#Merlin will warm up to him though

[rainbowsmagicandshit]

Fanfic prompt/idea:

Mordred is Emrys (not really tho)

(Super long. TL;DR at bottom)

Someway, somehow, Arthur and his knights (Leon, Elyan, Percy, Gwaine, mordred) + Merlin meet someone while they’re away from the citadel who tells them about Emrys. Might be someone trying to kill them and boasting about the all mighty Emrys or might be a friendly, peaceful magical person who stopped for a chat or something else, choice is yours. Anyway, that night as they eat dinner around the campfire, they start talking about this Emrys. At first they’re like “that’s kooky” and laughing but then Percival speaks up quietly and a bit nervously. He says that while he’s sought sanctuary for the night or a few days in Druid camps before he became a knight, he’s heard about Emrys. Now, everyone is actually interested instead of just laughing it off.

Arthur: tell me more.

Percy: well.. the druids highly respect this man almost as if he’s a deity. I don’t know too much, and it’s been a while. I do remember that everyone knew about him no matter which Druid camp it was, even the children. It seems they tell a lot of stories about him to their young’uns.

Arthur: anything else?

Percy: sorry, sire, that’s all I remember. But if you really want to know more you could try to ask the druids.

They all became quiet and continued to eat, Merlin and Mordred relieved this conversation is over. …Until,

Arthur, remembering Mordred is a Druid: Mordred, you’re a Druid. Do anything about this?

Mordred and Merlin: *sweating bullets just wanting this dangerous topic over with* *glances at each other nervously*

Gwaine: WHA? Mordred, you’re a Druid?! You’ve been hold holdin’ out on us, mate!

Arthur realizes that Mordred’s heritage had not, in fact been a known thing, but they’ve made peace with the druids, it’ll be fine.

Mordred, nervously: oh, um, yes, I am…

The knight all take a few moments to be like “wow… never would’ve guessed” and “aren’t druids normally peaceful people? How you become a knight?”

Arthur, wanting to get things back on track: so, Mordred, do you know anything?

Mordred, nervousness increasing, knowing Merlin doesn’t want Arthur to know who he is, but not wanting to lie to his king, eyes darting between the two and all over the camp: uh…um… I… uh, I..I… I guess, yes. *Merlin’s glare intensifies*

Arthur, not noticing Merlin’s death glare at Mordred: tell me more.

Mordred, trying to figure out what to say to satisfy his king’s curiosity but not incur Emrys’ wrath (Emrys already hates him enough for some reason, he doesn’t want to make it worse): well… um, there’s… well there’s Emrys… and there’s this prophecy involving him. Most druids know of it; it’s centuries old.

Percival: oh, that’s right… Something about a magical king, right?

Mordred: the Once And Future King.

Gwaine: hold on a minute.. that sounds familiar… Ah! That’s right! I heard about it from a storyteller at a tavern once. I thought it was an odd name so it stuck. It’s a love story, right?

Mordred, nervously glancing between Merlin and Arthur (Merlin now looking at Gwaine with exasperation): um… I don’t know if that’s what it is.. but there definitely is a deep bond between Emrys and the Once And Future King.

Arthur: continue.

Mordred, trying to stay focused on Arthur instead of the once again glaring warlock beside him: so the prophecy says that the Once And Future King will unite the land of Albion, return magic to the land, and bring about a golden age of peace and prosperity for all. And Emrys is foretold to help him. * internally: please let be enough to satisfy him🥺😣😖*

Elyan: so the stories are about this king and Emrys is just there to help?

Mordred, sweating: um…

Gwaine: if that’s the case shouldn’t you druids be worshiping the king instead?

Sounds of agreement around the fire.

Leon to Mordred: is there more to us than that?

Mordred, under curious and intense gazes again: uh, yes… Emrys is a very powerful, immoral warlock said to—

“IMMORTAL??!!!” Merlin squawked, surprised.

Mordred, very nervous, whispers: ….um…yes………. *telepathically: did you not know?*

Merlin, telepathically: I am not immoral.

Mordred, telepathically: it’s what the prophecies say

Merlin, telepathically: they’re wrong

Mordred, telepathically: …um,, there’s a lot who say you are.

Merlin, telepathically: No. I’m NOT. I can’t be immortal. That’s ridiculous.

Mordred, telepathically: they say you are. That’s why the call you Emrys.

Merlin and Mordred continue to glare and the knights and Arthur look on wondering when those two got close enough to communicate only looks and without talking. Arthur is not jealous. Not. At. All. That would be ridiculous.(Yes he is, he’s the only one who’s supposed to communicate with Merlin silently. How dare Mordred)

Suddenly Merlin stands up: I’m going to wash the dishes *aggressively goes around the camp and grabs everyone’s dishes, then stomps into the woods to a nearby stream*

Arthur: you were saying Mordred?

Mordred: oh, right! Yes, so Emrys is said to be the most powerful warlock to ever live. He and the Once And Future King are said to be equals and without him the Golden Age can’t happen. While the Once And Future King is the king, Emrys is said to be his advisor and teacher of sorts. He also protects the Once And Future King and supports him any way he can.

The knights and king look thoughtful taking in this information. They ask Mordred more questions, just little stuff and clarifications, and Mordred, relaxing that he’s getting through this without blowing Emrys’ identity let it slip that “the time of the prophecy is upon us” and that Arthur is said to be the Once And Future King. Whoops.

Everyone around the campfire is now totally interested in this and wanting to know if it’s true and Mordred’s like “um… yeah, that’s what everyone is saying…” and REALLY wanting this conversation to be over with before he slips up about Merlin. He’s also really glad Merlin is still washing their dishes far enough away that he can’t hear the conversation.

Of course, just as Gwaine asks “if Arthur’s this Once And Future King, the where’s this Emrys guy?” Merlin returns in time to hear it.

Merlin, glaring at Mordred: what?

Mordred, telepathically: I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I’m sorry! 🥺

The group fills Merlin in on what he missed while Mordred continues to apologize endlessly. The knights then go back to asking Mordred about Emrys and he tries to navigate the questions without giving anything away while also dealing with a furious Merlin in his head telling him to “FIX THIS NOW!! And don’t you tell Arthur who I am!!” The poor boy!

Mordred continues to navigate the conversation mostly emphasizing how loyal Emrys is and how he and the Once And Future King are said to have a strong bond and there’s nothing to worry about when they start to question if Emrys is a threat. Eventually someone (probably Gwaine) brings up that Emrys doesn’t seem to be doing a very good job of protecting Arthur considering how other he’s encountered by magical thing. And Mordred, who knows how busy Merlin is and how hard he’s been working to protect Arthur (and that’s just since he’s become a knight! He knows there’s so much more he doesn’t know and is in even more awe of Emrys for handling it all) sees Merlin look over at Gwaine like he’s actually concerning strangling the man, says, “he’s very busy! And, he’s just one man! He’s really trying his best!!”

Mordred doesn’t realize what he said wrong and why everyone is quietly looking at him like that until Arthur asks, “You know him?”

Mordred, who just realized that he did kinda just admit to knowing a very powerful, immoral warlock to a king and his knights that are of a kingdom where magic is punishable by death: ……………uh

Arthur, realizing why Mordred looks so terrified: Mordred I understand you are a Druid and have grown up on stories of this man. I will not punish you for knowing him. I’m sure you’ve met many sorcerers.

Mordred, letting out a big breath of relief: thank you, sire. And yes, I have met him.

Arthur, nodding: I see. And he is in Camelot?

Mordred: yes, sire. He’s been working very hard to keep you and Camelot safe.

Arthur, looking at his other knights: I’ve never heard of anyone in the kingdom by that name, any of you?

Leon: he’s likely using a fake name.

Arthur: hmm. Yes that makes sense.

Mordred, wondering if he messed up again: uh, sire? Is something wrong?

Arthur, looking back at Mordred, and trying to reassure him: I wouldn’t really say something is wrong, per say, but the fact that there is an unknown and powerful sorcerer hiding in Camelot is something I need to be aware of. Since you’ve met him, do you know who he’s hiding out as?

Mordred, glancing subtly at Merlin who’s glaring at him threatening again, realizing he really f’ed up: ……

Arthur, realizing Mordred does know who Emrys is: who is he, Mordred?

Mordred: ……

Arthur, starting to lose his patience: Mordred. Who is he? Or does your loyalty lie with him first and me, your king, second?

Mordred, startled: No! That’s not it at all, sire! I’m very loyal to you! I swear it!

Arthur: then…

Mordred, sheepishly: well… in the prophecy you two are equals, so I’ve always weighed your words and orders as equal as well. And Emrys asked me not to reveal him, so…

Arthur: ……

The knights: ……

Merlin, telepathically: you’re not done yet, keep going. The prat’s not going to leave it at that.

Arthur, trying to figure out how to word it: Mordred… you do realize that that is…. worse, right?

Mordred: ????

Arthur: there is someone who one of my knights has valued their words as equal to my own who I have never met and know next to nothing about and who is a sorcerer. I have not appointed this man and if he were to contradict one of my orders… Do see how I really need to know who this man is?

Mordred: …but he’s loyal to you…🥺

Arthur, wondering if he’s actually going to have to turn this into an official interrogation: Mordred.

Tension rises again as Arthur keeps pushing and Merlin starts yelling in his head again and Mordred just Doesn’t Know What To Do. Please make this stop! Until he can’t take it anymore and just blurts out, “I’M EMRYS!!”

Silence.

Mordred can’t believe he just said that. Did he actually just claim to be THE Emrys? It feels sacrilegious. He peeks over at Merlin, but the man seems just as shocked as the rest of them at this development and raises an eyebrow in question.

Mordred, telepathically: …sorry? I didn’t know what to say…

Merlin, telepathically: ..no, im not mad at that. I am a bit curious about where you’ll go with this though…

Arthur: you’re Emrys?

Mordred, with Merlin’s permission to continue: yes. I’m Emrys.

Gwaine, whistles: damn mate, you’ve really been holding out on us!

Everyone looks at Mordred in a new light, trying to reconcile what they already knew about him with this new information.

Arthur: so you have magic then?

Mordred, nervously: yes.

More silence.

Gwaine, very interested and not at all wary: lots of it too being the most powerful and thought of as a deity.

Mordred, who is quite powerful, but not on Emrys’ level, obviously: yeah, I suppose.

After a bit more of an awkward and tense conversation of stilted sentences, and some debate about magic, Mordred and Merlin finally relax at the fact they’re both keeping their heads and the true identity of Emrys is secret. It was pretty much decided that Mordred had already sworn fealty to Arthur when he became a knight and even saved the king’s life in the Northern Plains, so he was most likely still trustworthy even though he was a sorcerer. Arthur and the knights are surprisingly okay with this turn of events; they’re still tense, but no one’s drawn their sword. Gwaine even asks Mordred to do some magic, and with Arthur’s very tense go ahead, Mordred levitates a water skin for a bit much to Gwaine’s delight. Gwaine keeps asking Mordred to do more magic as they head back to the castle like make things float and light some campfires.

I was thinking that it will mostly be about the antics from this point and how it would change things for the better. Like, now Merlin needs to enlist Mordred in his secret magical adventures and work together to keep Arthur and Camelot safe. The two would make such a funny dynamic. Merlin being all huffy and suspicious but begrudgingly including him while Mordred is so happy at being able to help his idol out, a dream come true for him.

The group ABSOLUTELY keeps Mordred’s magic and him being Emrys thing a secret at first, not sure when that’ll change but it definitely will. Gwaine probably spills about the prophecy and Arthur being the once and future king while he’s drunk in the tavern one night, but not about Mordred. The group eventually start warming up about magic and not being so wary of sorcerers since they’re now seeing Mordred using it to protect them so much. When the knights ask about what he’s done so far he tells them about Merlin’s achievements (with his permission, of course) and gets some more stories from him.

When the actual reveal comes it will be after word has already spread that Mordred is Emrys, so then Arthur and everyone will have to be like “no, that was a lie/misunderstanding, it’s actually Merlin” but people will still mistake Mordred for Emrys even years in the future. They’re never living this down.

Also there is DEFINITELY at least one scene where they go to a Druid camp and Arthur’s all like “yep, this is Mordred. Emrys” and the druids, telepathically, are like “boy, what are you doing? Mordred, you know you’re not Emrys.” And Mordred’s like “I have permission…” so the Druids subtly look at Merlin and he’s like “yeah, he’s got permission, just go with it” So, they do.

There’s also going to be scenes where Arthur is trying to get to know Mordred better because they apparently are supposed to have a super strong bond or whatever and yes, he and Mordred do have a bond, but he wouldn’t say it was any different than his bonds with his other knights and is all confused by it. And when he’s confiding in Merlin about it, he advises to not try and force it.

I know this is season 5 and Arthur and Gwen are married, BUT if you decide to go the merthur route, there can even be some prophecies about Emrys and the once and future king being soulmates and destined to be together or something. That would make Arthur even more confused/troubled because while Mordred is only a little over a decade younger than him (I headcanon that Arthur was 20-21 in 1st season and Mordred ~7-10) and age gaps that big weren’t unheard of, he just can’t look at Mordred that way. He’s too much like an innocent little puppy or something. Merlin is probably mortified because he can’t believe they have prophecies about his love life and why was he only finding out about this NOW?

Also, LANCELOT!!! Maybe there’s some way to actually bring him back from the dead. Or, there could be some scenes of him in Avalon watching this comedy unfold and talking and laughing about it with Will and Fraya and whoever else has died. And they’re all shaking their heads at the crazy situations Merlin gets himself into.

TL;DR: It’s basically crack about Merlin and Mordred working together to pass Mordred off as Emrys with a side of fix-it.

In the future I might decide to write this myself, but I’m in the middle of reading TGCF and want to finish that and a couple other things before I rewatch Merlin. It’s been a couple years since my last rewatch so things are a little fuzzy and I don’t want to completely mischaracterize someone. So, here, take it. Do with this what you want, but let me know if you write this or something, cause it would be supper fun to read.

[mrsmikaelsxn]

Tired

masterlist

pairing: theodore nott x female reader

warning: somewhat angst to fluff, kissing, cursing, jealousy, best friends to lovers, protectiveness, c*rmac mcl*ggen

summary: you were theo's childhood best friend and he waits for a time when you will love him back

a/n: hello lovely people! i am alive and well! i sincerely apologize for not writing in awhile, i just haven't had any motivation to write lmao (this isn't proof read because its really late and i'm tired, so i apologize for any mistakes) (i chose the song below because i've been singing it for weeks and it somewhat relates to theo in this)

song: i'm just ken - ryan gosling

Theodore Nott was tired.

And in love.

With his best friend, nonetheless.

You may be wondering why he was tired. Well, he was tired of feeling upset whenever you called him your best friend. He was tired of hiding how he felt towards you since he was a thirteen-year-old. He was tired of the jealousy that took over him whenever someone flirted or went out with you.

Theodore was tired of many things.

At the moment, he was sat in the Great Hall as Draco complained about his classes. He wasn't listening, though, no he was staring at you as you happily talked with your friends in Hufflepuff.

Someone then sits in the empty spot next to him and pats his shoulder. He tenses slightly and Draco stops talking. They both turn and look at Cormac Mclaggen.

The two Slytherins practically have to hold in their vomit at the mere sight of the Gryffindor.

"Can I help you, Gryffindor?" Theo's eyes narrowed at the hand on his shoulder.

Cormac awkwardly removes his hand and sucks in a breath, a smirk making its way to his face. "You can't, but she can." He tilts his head and his eyes land on you.

Draco and Theo's eyes follow his line of vision and Theo clenches his jaw. "What do you want?"

"I want that friend of yours. And for you to set us up," he shrugs.

Draco glances back and forth between the two boys. He knows how protective Theo is of you, and that this isn't likely going to end well.

"Let me get this straight... you want me to set you up with y/n?" Theodore says with disdain.

"Exactly. Something about her just has me wishing to be in her bed, you know?"

Theo slams his hands on the table, causing some people nearby to look over. He glares at the boy and speaks lowly, "The fuck did you just say?"

"Don't tell me you aren't friends with her to get in her-"

Draco cuts him off before his could finish. "I suggest you don't finish that fucking sentence, Mclaggen."

"I'll take that as my sign to leave. Just let me know whenever you're done with her, I'll be waiting with open arms... and legs," he laughs as he walks out of the Hall.

"Fucking disgusting asshole," Theodore mumbles.

"I can hex him if you want," Draco says. "Maybe get Snape to take points from Gryffindor."

"Both sound good to me."

His eyes make their way back to you and he sees your eyes already on him. You smile brightly at him and he grins back. You turn around so he doesn't see your face warm.

One of your friends, Hannah Abbot, giggles and pokes your cheek. "Someone's blushing."

"Am not!"

"Yes you are. Don't lie," she leans in, "you have feelings for Nott."

"I don't know what you are talking about. We're just friends."

"Mhm." Hannah looks at you with an incredulous face, "I'm pretty sure that friends don't make heart eyes at one another."

You gasp, "Theo and I do not make heart eyes at each other."

Hannah whispers, "I know that you know that you like him. I hope that you believe me when I tell you that he looks at you like he's about to get down on one knee-"

You gently place your hand on her mouth and look at her with wide eyes. "That's enough." You remove your hand but chew on your lip for a second. "Does he look at me like that?"

"Yes! And for the record, I think your children-"

"Merlin! I can't do this today," you drop your head into your hands as Hannah rants about how beautiful your family would be.

It's been two weeks since then and whenever you hung out with Theo, you tried to decipher if he was looking at you the way Hannah has claimed he was.

Theo, however, noticed how you seemed more bright than usual. What had happened that made you more smiley and happy? Did you find someone?

He runs his hands over his face and sighs.

"Theo? Are you alright?"

He sits straighter at the sound of your warm voice. "Yes, love. I was just lost in thought."

"Oh? And what thought has you frowning like a kicked puppy?"

You lean back against the tree behind you and put your legs out straight, crossing your ankles. You pat your lap and Theo places his head down. Your hands start to play with his hair, like muscle memory.

"Nothing your pretty head should worry about," he says quietly as he stares up at the stars. It was past curfew, and you weren't one to break any rules, but how could you say no to your favorite person? Especially when the note was attached to your favorite flower.

"Hm, well I don't like it when you frown. I much prefer to look at your gorgeous smile," you chew the inside of your cheek and start to braid some strands of his hair.

His cheeks turn a light pink and his eyes meet yours. "Gorgeous smile?" He feels a flicker of hope that there's a slight chance you reciprocate his feelings.

"Yeah," you mumble with a light laugh.

He smiles and before he could say anything else, something clicks above him.

You grin as you hold your polaroid camera above his head. "Gotcha."

He fake pouts and tickles your stomach. You burst out laughing and the camera falls to your side, "Theo! Stop, please!" You beg and squirm.

"Okay, since you asked nicely."

"You know, I think I can be tickled to death. I don't know about you, but personally I can't really breathe when I'm being tickled."

He lets out a breath, "I don't know if I can, I haven't been tickled before." He sits up a tiny bit and leans on his elbows.

You huff, "I suppose we'll just have to find out, won't we." You quickly move so that you're next to him and tickling his stomach. His head falls back as he laughs. You smile and he grabs your waist and rolls the two of you over so that he's now on top of you.

Theo gazes down at you. He sucked in a breath at your closeness and couldn't stop his eyes from dropping down to your smiling lips. 'So pretty,' he thinks to himself.

His arms are on both sides of your head and he leans down a bit so that if either of you were to move just an inch, your lips would touch.

"Theo," you whisper breathlessly.

"I really fucking want to kiss you right now," he says quietly.

You look at his lips, "So do it."

Without another word, he connects his lips to yours and both of your eyes flutter shut.

He feels a burst of butterflies fill his stomach. As childish as that may sound, he's had countless scenarios of kissing you. But never would he have expected it to be so perfect as it was.

Your lips were soft and warm. His were too. He slides his tongue across your bottom lip, and you open your mouth happily.

His tongue wanders your mouth and your hands go up and comb through his hair. He lets out a content sigh against your mouth and pulls away the tiniest bit. He gives a shorter and sweet kiss before his tongue is against yours again.

You taste of strawberries and cherries. That was because you ate the two fruits almost every night for dessert.

He tastes like slight cigarette smoke and vanilla, as odd as that may seem.

The two of you could drown in the taste of each other.

Theo pulls away places a gentle kiss on your forehead as he sits up and pulls you against his chest.

He rests his head on your shoulder and kisses your neck. "I love you," he whispers.

You furrow your eyebrows. You've said the three words to one another before, but you hoped he meant it another way. Which you were almost sure of after the kiss. "I love you more."

"No," he shakes his head against your neck. "I'm in love with you."

You feel your heart rate increase and the largest smile is now on your face. "You are?"

"Of course I am. I've been in love with you for years. You don't have to say-"

You turn and face him. "I'm," you kiss his cheek, "in," you kiss the other, "love," you kiss his forehead, "with," you kiss his nose, "you," you finally kiss his lips and Theo melts.

You pull back and look at his blushing face. "Oh!" You just remember your camera and reach over to grab it.

You pull the printed picture from the top and look at the developed photograph. "Look how beautiful you are," you turn the picture to him.

He takes it from your hands and brings it closer to his face. Even he could see the lovestruck look on his face as he admires you from your lap.

"Lets caption it," you say.

"I think you should write, 'first kiss and love confessions'," Theo tilts his head.

"That's perfect," you smile.

"Not as perfect as you, darling," he winks.

You playfully push his shoulder, "I never took you as a sappy one."

He dramatically places a hand over his heart, "Oh how you wound me."

"Will a kiss make you better?" you ask with a glint in your eyes.

"I believe it will, sweetheart."

[moonstruckme]

the boys w a reader who's very physically affectionate? pre-relationship >:)

like none of them are dating yet, and she'd hug and kiss them on the cheeks, hold their hands on the way to class, carry their books/bags for them and lean on them in the common room and all three of them are flustered by it. bonus points if reader doesn't even know she does it, it's just how she is, and when they point it out she's like "oh.. i'll stop, sorry" and they're like "NONONONO" THEY'D BE SO CUTE

Yesssss thanks for requesting my love!

poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 1k words

You insist on carrying Remus’ book bag to Hogsmeade for him, and he glares at James the whole way for letting slip that his shoulders have been aching all day. 

“Let me take that,” James offers for the upteenth time, ignoring Remus’ muttered “Yeah, let ‘im.” 

“I’ve got it, Jamie,” you say again, wobbling a bit under the weight of Remus’ books, far more plentiful than what you’d packed for the study session. “We’re here anyway.”

“C’mon, doll, let’s get you a butterbeer to warm up, yeah?” Sirius opens the door to The Three Broomsticks. “I’m sure Remus will buy.” 

Remus rolls his eyes. “I’ll buy Y/N one, not either of you.” 

“Spoilsport.” Sirius slides into an empty booth, and you set your load down beside him, turning around and pushing up on your tiptoes to give Remus a kiss on the cheek. 

“Thanks,” you say sweetly, and Remus isn’t a very affectionate person, but he’s hardly easily flustered either. So when his cheeks turn bright pink as soon as you’re not looking anymore, James can’t help but grin. 

“Sit by me, sweetheart,” Sirius says, setting his arm atop the booth. James thinks he views your flirting as a sort of contest, seeing who will go the farthest before someone needs to tap out. But if it’s a competition, it’s one Sirius is destined to lose. 

You slide agreeably in beside him, slipping under Sirius’ arm so readily that it drops from the booth in surprise, landing with a dull thump at your side. “Merlin, it’s cold in here,” you say, nestling close. “You think they keep it that way so you’ll buy more butterbeer?”

Sirius’ voice is pitchy and breathless. “Mm—probably.” 

James smirks at him, sliding into the safe zone across from the two of you. 

You take Sirius’ hand in both of yours, frowning and rubbing at it. “See, your hand is freezing! This is ridiculous.” 

Remus reappears with four pitchers, grinning knowingly at the shell-shocked look on Sirius’ face. “I’ll be expecting the two of you to pay me back,” he says to James and Sirius, setting them down and beginning to dig through his book bag. “Merlin, if I can finish Slughorn’s essay while we're here it’ll be a miracle.”

James blows gently on his butterbeer, trying not to watch too closely as you purse your lips to do the same. “Have you started on that already?” he asks.

Remus shakes his head, exasperated but familiar with James’ ways. “It’s due tomorrow, Prongs. You won’t be able to do it in the hour before class, trust me.” 

“Wait, the one on boggarts?” you ask, opening your own bag. Remus nods, and you hold up a small stack of parchment, beaming. “I finished this morning. Wanna see?”

“That'd be great,” Remus says. “What I really can’t figure out is the part…about…” he appears to lose his train of thought as, instead of passing the papers across the table, you disappear under it, re-emerging a second later to squeeze between James and Remus in their seat. 

“I know what you mean,” you say, as though this is all very commonplace, pressed shoulder-to-shoulder and hip-to-hip with the both of them. “The second part of the question is near impossible to understand, but I think I may have figured it out. Here, see…” James stops hearing the conversation as you duck down towards your work, your hair tickling his arm and your jumper riding up to reveal the small of your back. James’ eyes follow the curve of your spine, down, down, until—he feels like a total perv, and looks away. 

Across the booth, Sirius is looking simultaneously relieved to have a break from your brazen affection and regretful that you’re not still there with him. He watches you as you speak in low tones with Remus, his eyes flicking upwards to James as if to say this is insane, right?. James nods back dazedly. 

You finish whatever you’ve been explaining to Remus, hauling your butterbeer across the table to sip at it. “Jamie, do you want my jumper?”

He nearly chokes. “Hm?”

You look up at him with concerned eyes. “I can feel you shivering. It might be a bit small on you, but it could help.” 

James is cold, but watching you take off that jumper, smelling you on it, would be too much. He forces a smile, taking a sip of his warm butterbeer instead. “Thanks, but I’m alright.” 

You frown at him, setting your hand atop his on the table. “You sure, honey? I don’t mind. I’m feeling a bit hot, actually.” 

Whatever the look on James' face, it’s enough to make Sirius guffaw. Loudly. Even Remus snickers, tucking his tongue into his cheek. 

“What?” You look at them. “What’s funny?”

“Doll, you’ve killed him,” Sirius laughs, and James doesn’t feel so chilly anymore, all his blood rushing to his face. 

Your brows scrunch together worriedly. “What do you mean?” 

Remus chuckles, the only one of them kind enough to give you an explanation. “I think what he’s saying is, even James has a threshold for flirting. You’ve just flustered him. Don’t worry, he’ll recover.” 

“I…what?”

“C’mon,” Sirius says, rolling his eyes good-naturedly, “all the touching, the hugs, the pet names? A man can only take so much.”

“Oh, Merlin, I’m so sorry!” You clap a hand over your mouth, eyes wide with horror. “I didn’t realize—I’m just a naturally affectionate person, but I didn’t mean to flirt—well, I don’t not want to flirt with you all, but I wasn’t doing it on purpose. I’ll stop, I’m sorry.” 

Sirius blinks. “Don’t stop,” he protests. “That’s not what I meant.” 

Your confusion returns. “No?”

“No,” Remus says, some of the color from earlier returning to his cheeks. “I mean, it’s nice.” 

James nods, finding his voice again. “Flirt with us all you like, but, um…would it be alright if we flirted back?”

Your smile comes like a sunrise, slow and brilliant and beautiful. “Yeah, I’d like that.” 

Sirius grins at you, bravado restored. “Good, because we need to even the playing field, dollface. Come back over here, I’m cold.”

[hephaestiions]

“What the fuck is this?”

Potter, in a fit of rage, is quite the sight to behold. Magic sizzles around him, errant curls escape his lazy bun, spectacles sit a touch too crooked on his nose.

Draco sips his tea. “A transfer request.”

“For Merlin’s sake—“ Potter rubs the bridge of his nose, a tell Draco’s learnt to mean he’s confused and scattered, and entirely unwilling to admit it. “I can read, Malfoy. Why?”

“Article 9, Section 3 of the Auror Code of Conduct—“

“No,” Potter cuts him off. “Absolutely not.”

Draco puts his tea down.

“I wouldn’t have thought,” he begins, slow and careful, “that you’d have already forgotten— what we did. Right in this office, in fact.”

“I haven’t forgotten anything,” Potter says. The transfer request is crumpling in his fist.

“Then you also remember it’s against the rules for us to remain partners—“

Potter stalks closer, until he’s towering over Draco’s desk. Draco’s mouth is desert-dry.

“Fuck the rules,” he says. This close, his scar always takes Draco by surprise, stark and ridged and white, cutting across his forehead and the top of his cheekbone. This close, now and every other time, he’s a riot of messy intensity. Draco can’t look away. “Merlin, Draco, when have I given a fuck about the rules? You leave me, I leave the MLE, there’s no point—”

“Potter,” Draco says. He’s weak and has never resisted temptation well. It’s no surprise this is all it takes for him to reach and cup Harry’s jaw, jittery thumb catching on the stubble shadowing his cheek. “Harry, I’m not that special.”

“Tell me you’re doing this because you think you have to,” Harry says, quiet and low. “Tell me you felt like you must, and not because you— because you want to get away from me. If it’s that, then I won’t stand in—“

“Don’t be silly.” It comes out sharp and affectionate, and Harry’s shoulders relax a little. “Nobody—“ he swallows, “—nobody else I’d trust to get my coffee order right, is there?” A flicker of a smile. Draco’s spirit sings. “Or—“ he says, huge and irrevocable and far too honest, “have my back in a fight. Only. It’s only you, isn’t it?”

Harry’s hand comes up, covers Draco’s where it still rests, trembling and uncertain on his cheek. He pulls it away, and for a split second Draco almost panics, until he realises Harry is lacing their fingers together, grip tight.

“It wasn’t a mistake,” Harry says. “The— us.” His mouth ghosts over Draco’s knuckles, warm and soft and plaintive. “I wanted it so long, Draco.”

“It wasn’t a mistake,” Draco acquiesces.

They stare at each other, long, silent moments, breaths heavy.

“I’ll stay,” Draco nods eventually. “Of course I’ll stay, all you had to do was ask, just, say something Potter. Don’t you know that?”

Harry lights up with a grin so broad Draco wants to taste it, dip his tongue into it, merge his mouth with—

But Harry’s stepping back, towards the dustbin in the corner. Draco has a moment of confusion before Harry straightens out the transfer request still bunched in his grip and rips it to pieces. The parchment flutters, confetti-like, to the floor.

“You’re stuck with me,” Harry says, serious and determined, even though the smile hasn’t quite left his mouth. “Right here.”

“Where else—“ Draco clears his throat when the words come out raspy and tangled, “Harry. Where else would I possibly want to be?”

for the @drarrymicrofic prompt “pieces”. dipping my toes back in here after years and i could not stop thinking about messy auror partners!

[siriuslovebot]

˖ ࣪⭑˖ ࣪𝒔𝒎𝒐𝒌𝒆 𝒔𝒉𝒐𝒘 ➸ 𝒋𝒂𝒎𝒆𝒔 𝒑𝒐𝒕𝒕𝒆𝒓˖ ࣪⭑ ˖ ࣪

𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃 𝑨𝑵𝑶𝑵𝒀𝑴𝑶𝑼𝑺 𝑨𝑺𝑲𝑬𝑫: hiya i was wondering if you could do a rough smut with james potter where reader gets turned on by him blowing cig smoke into her mouth at a party or something, and he’s all like cocky about it??? thank you for considering this. 

𝑾𝑨𝑹𝑵𝑰𝑵𝑮𝑺: smut (18+, minors dni!), smoking, mentions of alcohol, oral (f!receiving), slight oral fixation, unprotected sex, rough sex, semi-public sex, cocky!james, some condescending dialogue, teasing, dirty talk. 

𝑺𝑼𝑴𝑴𝑨𝑹𝒀: the reader is infatuated with her boyfriend, james potter. she can’t help but get distracted when admiring him at a party. 

𝑨/𝑵: hi, anon! thank you for your request! i hope i’ve done it justice here. i don’t have a ton of experience writing rough smut, but i tried my best here. james is such a big softie to me but it was fun writing him a little differently. this is unedited so apologies for any mistakes, and i hope you enjoy! 

𝑾𝑶𝑹𝑫 𝑪𝑶𝑼𝑵𝑻: 3.4k 𓂃♡₊⭑

·͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺

        james potter is going to be the death of you. 

        he’s been bad enough these last few weeks since you’ve become “official,” strutting around bragging about how he’s somehow snagged the fittest girl around. the disgusted looks on remus and sirius’s faces are enough to send a flush blooming across your features, not to mention the endless teasing from sirius as he does his dramatic impression of james fawning over you. worse, though, is the fact that you’re equally as obsessed with him. you had a bumbling crush on him throughout all of your years at hogwarts; his confidence and extroverted personality always attracted you to him, and despite his vaguely arrogant air, he was quite kind to you. 

        thus, when he asked you on a date after running into you at the leaky cauldron on order business, you reluctantly said yes. the result was quickly turning into the marauder’s worst nightmare: remus and sirius were getting fed up with your constant pda, baby-talking each other when you’re sure you won’t be overheard and snogging at the most inconvenient of times. it wasn’t uncommon to get an exasperated comment from sirius along the lines of, “we’re at war for merlin’s sake, can’t you two give it a rest for five minutes?” to which you would flush and james would make an obscene gesture. 

        currently, you’re curled up on a couch in lily’s flat, listening half-heartedly as she recounts the story of an awful date she recently went on. there’s a drink clasped in your hand, all but forgotten as you divide your attention between lily and the distracting sight of your boyfriend standing with frank and remus in the kitchen. he’s got a cigarette perched between his lips, soft smile decorating his features as he listens attentively to the story that remus is telling. your mouth goes dry as you watch him take a long drag of the cigarette, smoke puffing through his pillowy lips as he exhales. he’s got something of an oral fixation, you’ve discovered; he’s always got something occupying that pretty mouth, whether it be words, a cigarette, chewing gum, your fingers, your mouth... he keeps himself entertained, and you get the added benefits of admiring him as he does just that. 

        on nights like these, however, it can be a real inconvenience. you shift in your seat, legs pressing together as you force yourself to wrench your needy gaze away from the sight of him. you can’t help the want warming your lower body, your stomach fluttering at the thought of getting him alone to let him indulge his fixation. 

        “....so i told him i’d rather drink bubotuber pus than go on another bleeding date with him, and now he’s run around telling everyone how horrible i am.” you catch the tail-end of lily’s rant, laughing along with alice and marlene. you take a sip of your drink, still unable to control your wandering eyes.

        sirius slinks back into the kitchen, returning from the washroom to grab himself another drink. he noticed you staring at james like a puppy in heat as he returned, feeling a smidge squeamish at the look in your eyes. he nudges james as he settles back into the conversation, a fresh drink in his hand.

        “bit oblivious, are you, mate?” sirius wonders, making a questioning face. he nods towards you on the couch, where you swallow the lump in your throat as you force yourself to look back at lily. “your girl’s staring a fuckin’ hole through you.”

        james turns, his tall frame blocking some of the light spilling in from the kitchen. he notices the hot-and-bothered look on your face as you force yourself to listen to lily. you shift, hips moving of their own accord as you attempt to get comfortable and ignore the aching between your legs. your features are flushed with color. you push the hair off of your neck, suddenly feeling as if you need to get some air before you burn up. 

        you finish your drink, and absentmindedly place the glass on the coffee table in front of you. you manage a response to lily’s question, before your eyes are flicking back over to the kitchen. you blink as you realize james is now returning the attention, and your stomach drops. there’s a questioning glint in his eyes and he nods towards the balcony just behind you through the door in the sitting room. 

        you stand, legs feeling insecure. 

        “excuse me,” you mutter, brushing a hand down over your dress. “gonna have a smoke with james.”

        “didn’t know you smoked,” alice’s soft voice trails as you exit the room.

        you take a deep breath as you step outside. the cool evening air does wonders in calming your heart rate, although the heat between your legs is only worsening as you wait for james to join you. there’s a sickening moment where you wonder if you’d misread his intentions, before the glass door opens and he’s standing before you.

        “hi, baby,” he says simply, voice soft as the door shuts behind him. you take him in, finally free to stare unabashedly. his dark curls are mussed, warm eyes obscured by smudged glasses, his lips chapped from puffing on his cigarette. 

        “hi,” you manage, a bit breathless. now that you’ve got him out here, all to yourself, you feel a bit in-over-your-head. he’s got a way of making you nervous, especially when he’s got this familiar smug look plastered on his handsome face.

        “you okay?” he’s lighting another cigarette. his hand cups around the flame of his lighter, long fingers shielding it from the light breeze. you chew on your bottom lip, your mind conjuring up the image of his hands exactly where you’d like them. making you squirm and writhe and cry for him. you’re distracted still, the sight of his fingers bringing the cigarette to his lips. his mouth curling around it, sucking in the smoke. 

        “y/n, baby,” he breathes out, his head dipping down as his free hand reaches for you. his fingers cup your chin, lifting your eyes to his. his thumb ghosts over the corner of your lips. you meet his gaze, your eyes glassy as you daydream about him touching you all over. it’s almost frightening, this love-drunk effect he causes. even his grasp on your face is not enough to pull you away from your little fantasy.

        “hmmm?” you hum, unable to find your words.

        his narrows his eyes at you, tilting your face to either side as he examines you. “have you had too much to drink?” he wonders.

        “no,” you shake your head, conscious enough to offer the one syllable response. he follows your gaze to the cigarette, flicking ash off of the end.

         “y’want a smoke?” he offers it to you.

         “want you,�� you breathe. you lift your hand, grasping him around the wrist that’s holding your face in place. the desperation you feel is more extreme than it ever has been in the past; something about the clueless look on his face, the smoke, his wild hair haloed around his head, the atmosphere of the party. his presence is torturing you. 

        he laughs softly, taking another drag of the cigarette. there’s a fluttering sensation between your legs as his tongue darts out to wet his lips.

        “kiss me,” you request, nuzzling into his hand. there’s a satisfied smile on his face as he leans down into you, slotting your mouths together. he tastes like cigarette smoke and an undertone of cinnamon gum. you latch onto him, fingers twisting into the tight curls at the nape of his neck. he breathes the smoke out into your mouth, the nicotine buzz worsening the dizziness from having his hands on you. 

        he flicks the cigarette nub away. now freed, his arm encircles your waist, his palm sliding down to your lower back. his grip tightens, holding you against his body as he tucks his knee between your legs. you whine at the contact, the fabric of his trousers grazing your thinly clothed center. this sends your core throbbing, though it does little to distract you from his tongue licking into your mouth. 

         an obscene noise breaks the quiet air as he pulls away from you. your lips are swollen, glistening with saliva as you stare up at him with your biggest eyes. he looks more than smug, he looks cockier than you’ve ever seen him. even after his quidditch victories back in school, he never had the proud gleam in his eyes that you’re witnessing now. 

        “poor baby,” he says, the almost-mocking tone to his voice sending a renewed throb down to your center. “so eager just for my mouth on you, aren’t you?”

        you whine, hands fisting the fabric of his sleeves as you hold onto him. you’re too turned on to be embarrassed, even as he coos at you in his condescending tone. “jamie…”

        “so needy you couldn’t keep your eyes off me. poor pads had to watch you eye-fucking me from across the room.” his head dips down, nose grazing the sensitive skin of your neck. he drags his lips against the skin softly, tongue darting out periodically to taste your skin. he breathes you in, relishing in the smell of your perfume and the tang of your sweat. 

        “stop teasing,” you complain. he just barely presses his thigh closer to you, notched between your legs. a hiss tumbles from your lips.

        “why would i stop when you’re enjoying it so much?” he wonders. you feel the smirk against your neck, and you curse him in your mind. “so wet you’re soaking me through my trousers. you’d like me to take you right here, wouldn’t you, sweets?”

        “yes,” you breathe. you’re practically clawing at him, rolling your hips for the slightest bit of friction on your clit. you think you could likely come just from the sight of him kneeling in front of you, not even touching you.

        “oh, but we mustn’t…” he continues. “see, you’ve already been rude to lily all night, ignoring her whilst you’re thinking of my mouth doing dirty things to you. it’d be criminal to defile her balcony, don’t you agree?” 

        “i–” you gasp at the feeling of his thigh flexing, the toned muscle rutting into your clit as he uses his hands to drag you along his leg. “i–fuck, james, i don’t care.”

        he chuckles darkly at this, then stops for a second to suck a dark mark into your skin. your head is thrown back, your eyes catching sight of the stars floating in the sky. they’re swimming, your gaze glassy with need for your boyfriend. it’s a wonder no one’s spotted you through the door. luckily it’s very dark outside, and the light spilling out onto the balcony from inside is too faint to illuminate the vulgar sight of you grinding against james. 

        “come,” he directs you away from the door, pressing you against a shadowed wall on the other end of the balcony. you never realize just how tall he is until he has you cornered, his body holding yours in place. his fingers play with the ends of your hair as he looks down at you, admiring your hazy expression. “gonna be good f’me, right, baby?”

         “yes,” you nod eagerly. “anything y’want, jamie.”

         “good,” he brushes the back of his hand over your cheek. then he’s dragging the fabric of your dress up your hips, hooking his fingers through the waistline of your panties. “gotta be quiet, hmmm? don’t want anyone hearing, do we?”

        you nod in agreement. your lip is tucked between your teeth, your eyes frenzied as you anticipate his next movements. james wastes no time, dropping to his knees. he’s eye-level with your dripping cunt, using one hand to spread your lips apart as the other comes up to touch you.

        a mewl spills from your mouth, one of your hands falling down to card through his curls. he smirks, placing a sweet kiss against your inner thigh. he spreads your slick around with two fingers, the dirty squelching noise like music to his ears. 

        “what did i say?” he asks you, peering up at you through thick lashes. he massages your clit softly, waiting for an answer.

          “gotta be quiet,” you respond. your voice is choked up at the sight of him looking so devilishly handsome between your legs.

          “that’s right,” there’s a split second of lost contact before his hand comes back with a sharp slap against your clit. it’s unexpected, and you bite down on your tongue as a muffled squeal leaves your mouth. “don’t want me to have to use a silencing charm on you, baby.”

          “‘m sorry, james,” you say. you bring a hand to your mouth, hoping to use it to muffle your noises. “please, i’ll be quiet.”

        without warning, he plunges two of his fingers into your sopping hole. your entire body tenses, your back lifting away from the brick wall as you arch into his touch. his teeth drag up your thigh, nipping softly before he turns his full attention to your pussy. he flattens his tongue and drags it from just above his fingers to your clit, swirling around the sensitive nub. 

        tears prick your eyes, the feeling overwhelming after not being touched all night. you bite onto your fist, swallowing down the vulgar noises that desperately need to escape your body. you have a tight grip in his curls, pulling the hairs more aggressively than intended. this eggs him on, soliciting a powerful curl of his fingers inside of you. they rut into your g-spot, exacerbating the pressure that builds in your lower stomach. 

         you want to scream, need to scream so bad that you’re crying over him. silent tears roll down your cheeks, ruining your makeup as james continues his merciless attack on your cunt. his full lips are attached to your clit, sucking and licking and humming against the bud. you tremble, the muscles in your abdomen and thighs clenching from the effort of holding yourself up while trying not to cum too fast. 

         a miniscule cry manages to break through despite your best efforts. james’s mouth releases from your clit with a slick pop, and he eyes you carefully. his warm eyes are considerably darker, clouded with lust. “thought you were gonna come like this, did you?” he says, his voice almost mean. you’ve never had him like this, teasing and condescending and demanding. it’s driving you crazy, this new, rougher side of him.

        “please, james,” you whisper, trying your hardest not to make another noise. “i–i’m sorry i made noise. just want your mouth, please…”

        he grins, his parted lips finding your clit again. his teeth graze the nub, and a jolt of electricity goes through your entire body. “like this?” he muses, nibbling gently on the collection of nerves. it takes everything inside of you not to scream like a banshee, the new sensation sending fluids dripping down over his hand and wrist. 

        “gonna come, then?” he asks, raising an eyebrow. his lips are no longer attached to your clit, but his fingers thrust roughly into your weeping hole. “can you come like this? come just for my fingers, baby?”

         “james i–please, i can’t,” you whine, eyes rolling back in your head.

        “oh, but you’re feeling so good for me,” he says, dragging his fingers along your walls deliciously. the pressure is building, slower inside your stomach. but you need his mouth on you, need him sucking your clit in order to come. you need the fireworks that his experienced tongue coaxes out of your body. you need the full body, cloud nine sensation of him eating you out. 

        “fuck can you just eat me out, please?” you plead, voice more demanding this time.

        this takes him off guard, the rhythm of his fingers stuttering for half a second before he’s drilling them into you with more aggression. he gives you no warning before his mouth is on you again, devouring you with every ounce of energy he has. your vision begins to blank, mouth hanging open in a silent scream as he wrecks your pussy with his fingers and tongue. you can’t make a single sound, can’t even think of anything except the overwhelming bliss between your legs. he eats you through your orgasm, overstimulating your clit as he removes his fingers from inside of you.

         “james–”

        “shut up,” he hisses, standing once the waves of your orgasm have diminished. he grabs you by the hips, spinning you around so you’re pressed against the wall. the brick digs into your skin slightly, your hands splayed on the wall as he pushes you into it. his hands fall from your hips to between your legs, spreading you for his access.

        “‘m sorry, i–i didn’t mean to–”

        but he’s not listening. you feel the tip of his cock prod your hole for half a second before he’s buried to the hilt in your slick. there’s a split second where he’s still inside of you, fumbling with his wand as he easily cast an imperturbable charm on the glass door leading inside. 

        “‘m gonna make you scream,” he promises, grasping your hips and hitching them back towards him. the position deepens the angle of his cock inside of you, and you cry out as he begins pistoning in and out of you.

        still sensitive from your previous orgasm, your mind goes foggy from the feeling of him abusing your cunt. his pace is relentless, the head of his cock barreling into your g-spot with enough force that you’re struggling to even hold yourself up. his fingertips dig into the flesh of your hips, bruising the soft skin. there are tiny crescent moon fingernail marks, possibly a prick of blood from the harsh grip he has on you.

        “fuck, it hurts so good,” you cry, lacing your fingers with his and holding on for dear life. 

        “you like when i hurt your little pussy, huh baby? like my cock tearing you apart?” he presses his lips to the soft spot where your shoulder and your neck meet. he’s panting in your ear, groaning as your walls clench tight around him. you’re getting close to your second orgasm already, your thighs quivering and arousal soaking down your legs. 

        “i love it, love you inside of me,” you respond, unable to think. your voice is barely audible over the wet slapping noises of his hips slamming into your bare ass. the sound of skin on skin coupled with his throaty noises is driving you closer to the edge. 

        this new, rougher side of james has your insides fluttering around him. you squeal in delight as one of his hands brings your wrists together behind you, holding you in place. the brick wall bites into the skin of your cheek, but you hardly notice as his other hand aims a sharp slap against your ass. he grunts at the sight of his handprint appearing on your skin, making his cock throb inside of you. another slap rings through the air, and you cry out. you tighten around him, closer and closer to orgasming by the second.

        “james–” you breath, chest heaving, “‘m gonna come. i can’t hold it any longer.”

        “come on, baby,” he encourages, maintaining his pace inside of you. “cry for me while you come, baby. wan’ the whole world to know i’m fucking you.”

        you do just that, your entire body collapsing between him and the wall as your second orgasm washes over you. you’re mewling his name into the night, begging him not to stop. you hear his cocky chuckle over your shoulder, followed by a low groan from his chest. his hips slow, hot spurts of release spraying your insides as he reaches his own orgasm. 

        “fuck, y/n,” he breathes, feeling you clench around him as he fills you up. “m’good girl, aren’t you?” he praises. he rocks into you a few final times, fucking his cum deeper as he sweeps your hair off of your neck.

        you sigh as he pulls out of you, helping you back into your panties. you hope they’re enough to keep the cum contained inside of you until you’re able to clean up. james helps you straighten your dress out, pecking you on the lips. with a wave of his wand, the smeared makeup all over your face is put right, and there’s very little evidence of your relations. 

         “thank you,” you breathe, leaning into him as you try and catch your bearings. “i love you,” you mutter, closing your eyes.

         “i love you, sweets,” he kisses your temple, wrapping an arm around your shoulders as he leads you back inside, having lifted his imperturbable charm. 

        your return goes virtually unnoticed, as lily and marlene are refilling drinks in the kitchen while sirius recounts a story from his childhood. you return to the sitting room, sinking onto the sofa beside alice. she eyes you for a second, then says, “smoked the whole pack, did you?”

[ellecdc]

Hi! I’m back 😬. I’m still extremely new to requesting so feel no pressure to write this soon. I was thinking of quiet!reader, who gets nervous when she is around Regulus and instantly starts saying the most out of pocket things and being chatty to fill in the silence. Regulus finds this amusing and usually keeps a serious, quiet demeanor to hear the weird things that come out of her mouth. 😊

looolllll the second I got this request it made me think of that Philomena Cunk meme on TikTok where people were like 'me whenever the conversation lulls' - so I had to borrow that quote!!! (let me know if you find it). Thanks so much for requesting babes - hope you love it 🫶

Regulus Black x quiet!fem reader (who can't shut up around him)

The world was out to get you, that much you were certain of. You were certain of this fact because this was the third time this week that your table in the library had somehow attracted the elusive Regulus Arcturus Black. 

Usually, this would not be an issue. In fact, one could argue this was a rather nonissue, seeing as you were sort of embarrassingly completely infatuated with the aggravatingly quiet boy in your year.

However, it appeared that the company of one Regulus Arcturus Black short-circuited some fundamental part of your brain which caused you to blurt out the most asinine comments known to all of wizardingkind – neigh – humankind. The universe has never seen the likes of such horrible conversation. 

It went a little like this: 

Earlier in the week you had set up your arithmancy homework out in front of you at your favourite table in the library. It was your favourite table because it had a window view, but that window view was the least distracting window view in the whole library. It also was the perfect distance to a fireplace, meaning you could manage to stay warm in the stone castle during the cold Scottish winters. 

Unfortunately, it seemed, the table didn’t give you a good vantage point to alert you when one Regulus Arcturus Black made an appearance.

“Mind if I sit here?” A quiet voice startled you out of your calculations, causing you to overturn a pot of ink in front of you.

“Fucking Merlin and Morgana! I- oh, erm, uh, no I uhm, fuck.” You sputtered as you split your attention between the boy standing across from you and the pool of ink quickly making its way towards your skirt. 

With a non-descript flick of Regulus’ wand, the mess was gone – though the damage to your parchment was unsalvageable.

“Oh, uhm, thanks. Sorry I – erm, have a seat. Although, you might not be safe!” You tried to joke but your voice came out disturbingly high, and the (failed) ‘joke’ made you flush hot with shame.

“I’m usually way cooler than this.” You tried to argue, before you realized that someone way cooler definitely wouldn’t have just said that.

Regulus was either unbothered by your horrifying actions or chose to ignore them. He opened his textbooks and began taking notes like you weren’t even there, while you sat in the most awkward and uncomfortable silence of your entire life.

It wasn’t long before you decided you couldn’t take it anymore, standing abruptly – so abruptly, in fact, that you had to quickly save another pot of ink from spilling – and began hastily gathering your things. Regulus did look up at this, and his eyes on you seemed to cause another malfunction to your central nervous system.

“Well, I must be off. I have other homework to dump ink on.” You said, except you didn’t deliver the sentence as a joke and it sounded all too believable – paired with your actions today, and you were certain he believed that’s exactly what you were off to do.

“Toodaloo.” You called and ran from the library.

Toodaloo!?!?! Are you fucking serious!?!! TOODALOO. Oh gods.

You didn’t dare return to the library the following day.

The day after that, though? It was fair game.

You were once again sitting at your favourite table and had ensured you placed a sticking charm on the bottom of your ink pots to avoid any more unfortunate accidents, when the clearing of a throat interrupted your studies.

“Mind if I sit here?” Regulus asked quietly, motioning to the seat across from you.

He’s kidding, right? After what happened two days ago, he can’t possibly want to sit with you?

Nonsense, perhaps this is just his favourite table in the library too.

You were determined this time not to make a fool of yourself.

“Have you finished the rune translations for Professor Babbling, yet?” Regulus asked.

No, the world was definitely out to get you.

“I, erm, I’ve started it. I believe it references the magic practiced by the Egyptians during the Predynastic period. Quite interesting stuff, Ancient Egypt. Did you know that Egyptians believed the most significant thing you could do in your life was die?” 

You were talking a mile a minute. You knew this to be true due to the fact that your tongue was actually tripping over your words, but while your brain was shouting shut up shut up shut up shut up, your mouth just kept moving.

“Is that so?” Regulus asked, his eyes squinting ever so slightly as he scrutinized you.

“I don’t know actually.” You admitted, realizing you may have just lied to Regulus Black about Ancient Egypt. “I, I suppose I meant that they put way more emphasis on death than life.” You cringed again. “I don’t know if that’s true either – it’s just, it’s... it's the pyramids!” You shouted desperately, earning you a shush from the librarian. 

“The pyramids?” He asked incredulously, a smile playing on his lips.

He was making fun of you, surely.

“Yup. Pyramids.” You squeaked, turning your face back towards your textbook.

“And you got all of that from the runes translation?”

Your face burned in shame.

“Uhm, no. The runes said no such thing. I just…know things.”

“You know things?”

“Right like, uhm, oh apparently Shakespeare didn’t actually write any of the works attributed to his name. Did you know that? William Shakespeare’s parents were illiterate - which doesn’t necessarily mean much because, perhaps he became learned later in life, right? However, William Shakespeare’s own children were also illiterate. I mean, what famous playwright wouldn’t teach their children to read? It’s all bollocks.” 

You had to catch your breath at the end of your tangent.

“That’s a bold claim.” Regulus said plainly. 

Fucking hells, was it hot in here?

“Right, well, erm. I have to go.” You said as you gathered your things and rushed towards the door.

“Uhm, Y/N?” Regulus called.

“Yes?”

“Your wand?”

You looked back at the table and, sure enough, your wand sat forgotten in your place. 

“Right, thanks. Uhm, best of luck on the rune’s translation. Let me know if you need help and erm, uhm, I - bye!”

You stayed out of the library for two days after that.

Which brought you to today. You decided to try to save yourself the humiliation and Regulus the hassle of having to sit with you by finding a different table. You would leave your favourite table to Regulus if it meant saving yourself the embarrassment of uttering absolute nonsense to your schoolgirl crush.

What you had forgotten, however, was how the world was absolutely 100% without a doubt out to get you.

“Mind if I sit here?” Regulus asked quietly, causing you to look up so quickly and, not being used to this table and unaware of the fact that you were sitting under a light sconce, you smacked your head rather painfully in the action.

“Son of a fucking dugbog.” You spat miserably as you rubbed at the sore spot already producing a lump on your head.

“Why?” You all but screeched.

Regulus tilted his head at you as one of his eyebrows raised. “Why?”

“Yes, why.”

“Why what?”

“Oh for – why do you want to sit with me?!”

He looked close to smiling as he scrutinized your form. “Do you not want to sit with me?”

“Of course I want to sit with you!” You admitted embarrassingly - and loudly - earning you a shush from the librarian.

“So, I can sit here then?”

You groaned and let your head thump onto the table in front of you – at least now you’d have a matching lump on the front of your head too.

“At the risk of me making a total and utter fool of myself? Sure, be my guest.”

You swore you heard him chuckle under his breath as he pulled the chair out across from you. You didn’t dare lift your head, however. Perhaps if you couldn’t see his piercing silver gaze, or his adorable black curls, or his stupid smirk, then maybe you wouldn’t be forced to say something ridiculous. 

“What? No fun facts for me today?” Regulus – the arse – asked from across from you.

You raised your head slightly, though left your shoulders at table level as you levelled him with a glare.

“You’re doing this to me on purpose, aren’t you? What, you get off on me making a fool of myself?”

Regulus smirked, though something in his eyes turned a little soft as he spoke. “I don’t think you make a fool of yourself.”

You scoffed and let your head fall back to its previous spot with a thud. “You’re an arse and a liar, Regulus Black.”

“Okay, perhaps you’ve been a little foolish.” He conceded, causing you to groan into the woodgrain of the table. “But I’ve enjoyed every second of it.”

Your head snapped up at that, and even Regulus grimaced as he watched you just barely miss the light sconce behind you.

“You’ve…enjoyed me making a fool of myself?” You asked incredulously.

Regulus moved his head back and forth in a sort of ‘so-so’ gesture. “I’ve enjoyed getting to listen to you. Why do you think I’ve been asking to sit with you all week?”

Apparently, your table wasn’t Regulus’ favourite table. Or at least, that wasn’t what made it his favourite – it was the fact that you had been sitting there that had made it so.

And ever since then, whatever table you were sitting at in the library – one would likely find Regulus Black there too.

[hopelessromantic5]

Merlin loses his memory.

Well, most of it.

“Merlin, what day of the week is it?”

The dazed look came back over Merlin’s face.

“Haven’t the foggiest.”

Arthur’s stomach plummeted into the Earth.

“Do you remember my name?” The mighty King of Camelot was nowhere to be found when these words were whispered in the depths of the Darkling Wood.

At some point, without his permission, Arthur had grabbed Merlin by the biceps, holding him there, as if he would run away.

The other man scanned Arthur’s face, starting with his jaw, his lips, moving up over the slope of his nose. He reaches the top, a mop of golden blonde hair, but then drops his eyes back down again. Freezing there. Their gazes locked.

Merlin‘s face shifts to an odd expression. One Arthur doesn’t think he’s ever seen, at least not without all the Merlin barriers over top.

This was something pure, yet Arthur still did not have a name for it. This disconcerted him even farther because Arthur knew every look on that beautiful face. A frustrated scowl before it’s fully formed, a quick retort on the tip of his tongue that must be held back due to present company (to which Arthur usually throws him a self-satisfied smirk and a quirked eyebrow, as if daring Merlin to say it anyway).

“No, I don’t know your name.” Merlin whispered softly, warm breaths carrying on the wind in the short space between them, and caressing Arthur’s face like a summer breeze.

The King could hear his own heart cracking, echoing through his rib cage. The first crack of a lake after an unforgiving winter.

Merlin did not allow it to take hold entirely, though.

“But I remember your eyes.” Came the second half of Merlin’s reply.

Arthur Pendragon almost collapsed out of pure affection right then and there.

Merlin would surely be his downfall.

[oncasette]

𝐂𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐂. send in a character + a scenario for a blurb + 𝗨𝗠𝗕𝗥𝗘𝗟𝗟𝗔

ok theseus request!!!!! what about some hurt/comfort, maybe him reacting to you crying? + [ CUP ]:  bringing both hands up to cup the receiver’s face, the sender draws them in closer to them in order to get a better look at their face. (I feel like this prompt fits the scenario perfectly so yeah <3)

𝗦𝗪𝗘𝗘𝗧 𝗟𝗢𝗩𝗘𝗥, 𝗬𝗢𝗨 𝗦𝗛𝗢𝗨𝗟𝗗’𝗩𝗘 𝗖𝗢𝗠𝗘 𝗢𝗩𝗘𝗥

summary: 1.7k

It’d been all his stupid idea, one you vehemently wanted to run away from. One that struck fear up your spine like lightning and sent fire licking at the base of your skull. An idea that, now, led you to be standing outside his old flat’s front door with ice-cold rain sticking your clothes to your skin and hot tears streaming down your cheeks hours after he’d left you reeling in your own flat. 

or the three times theseus asked you to move in with him and the one time you asked.

warnings: implied smut

masterlist | taglist

Moving in with Theseus hadn’t been your idea. It’d been his. Totally, completely, and unarguably his idea. One he’d spent weeks, at this point, convincing you to go through with. An idea you’d initially been so adamant about turning down. But he was nothing if not persistent. 

He’d presented you with a key the first night he’d asked. Just a key, warm from where he’d kept it in his coat pocket pressed tight against his chest over the course of his work day. He’d dug it out of the jacket that had been hastily tossed off to the floor near the side of the bed when you’d nearly jumped his bones after he’d apparated back to his flat. You’d already been home–his home, that is–snuggled up in his bed with a cup of tea and a sleep shirt he’d had since his seventh year. 

“What’s this?” you asked as he’d handed it to you. His hands shook, and he’d been grateful you failed to make a comment on it. 

“A key,” he hummed as you took it. 

“But… Thes, I already have a key to your place?” Your eyebrows knitted across your forehead as your statement quirked into a question. 

“I know,” he said. “My lease comes up in a month and I…”

You brought a hand up to the side of his jaw, urging him to continue as his lips pressed kisses to your palm. 

“I know yours does, too. A week after mine, but I was hoping you’d think about letting it.”

It’s a wonder it hadn’t clicked for you yet. His beautiful, bright girl that amazed him every day, who was making him spell out this question for her, letter by letter, while his heart threatened to give out in his chest. 

“Letting it do what?” you asked. 

“Run out,” he exhaled. Merlin, his lungs felt heavy. 

“Are you asking me to move in with you?” you asked, hand dropping to your side as you sat up fully. You brought the top sheet with you, covering the skin Theseus had spent the last hour and a half marking with his teeth. His eyes burned as he followed your movement and leaned his back against the headboard. 

“I’d been trying to, yes,” he said. 

“Don’t you think it’s a little… I don’t know,” you swallowed, throat dry with a lack of an answer. “Fast?”

“Love, we’ve been together for nearly two years. I thought–”

He’d been cut off with your legs being thrown over the edge of the bed, feet scrambling to hold your body up as your hands reached for the clothes you’d been wearing earlier in the evening. 

“I can’t.” With your eyes screwed shut, you tugged your slip back up over your body and crossed the room to grab the shirt you’d come to his flat in–not the one of his you’d been wearing when he’d come home, a sight that has his jaw aching. It’d taken you a minute longer to find your wand, white knuckling it as you pressed a kiss to your boyfriend’s hairline. You were gone within the minute, with the key left at the foot of the bed.

He hadn’t even had the chance to move from the spot you’d left him in. 

He’d left it alone enough after that, though his heart had ached each time his hand passed over the weight of the key he still kept in his pocket. 

The second time he’d asked–more insinuated, this time–had been at breakfast two weeks later, thankfully, in a less vulnerable state of dress. 

“I saw the flat yesterday,” he said, though his eyebrows were raised with the hint that there was more lingering under that statement than you’d wanted. “Unfurnished, that is. I saw it a couple weeks ago when I bought it and everything, but I saw it for the first time since I’d signed the lease on it yesterday.”

“Theseus.”

“Look, I know. I know.” He drew his fist tight as he inhaled. “I know you think it’s too fast, darling.”

“Then why are you doing this?” you asked. 

You weren’t even sure why you were fighting it this hard at this point anymore. It was all you’d thought about since he’d asked the first time. And you weren’t going to lie, you’d warmed to the idea. Not that you were ready to admit that, apparently.

He brought your hand up to gently lay kisses on your knuckles. “Just come see it with me, yeah?”

You offered him a pointed look. “Don’t have to make any snap decisions,” he assured you. “Even though I’m desperately hoping that you will.”

“Okay,” you whispered.

“Okay?”

“I’ll go look at the flat with you,” you said. 

He’d been so eager, the smile he’d given you had been enough to allow him to convince you to stop by the next morning. 

It was a lovely flat, honestly. It had a kitchen large enough to house an island, a bedroom much bigger than you’d been anticipating, and a view that had you fully leaning out the window to get a better look at. And, it was a five minute walk away from your office. A fact Theseus had mentioned thirty seconds into your initial walkthrough. A walkthrough that had unsurprisingly consisted of all the reasons Theseus had picked the place. Or, better worded, all the reasons Theseus thought the place would be a perfect fit for you. For the both of you. 

“The living room’s the perfect size for your couch, you know. I was thinking you’d want to bring it along if you ever ended up here since you spent so long picking it out and everything…”

“Thes, it’s beautiful. It really is,” you said, stepping closer to him as you watched the corners of his lips twitch into a grin. 

He fully bridged the gap then, hands falling to your hips to tug you into his chest. “So?”

“I’ll think about it,” you hummed and he leaned down to kiss you fully. 

“Improvement,” he said. “I’ll take it.”

The next couple days had been a constant barrage of dropped hints. It felt like you’d been suffocated beneath the weight of the question, one that hadn’t been asked in its entirety since that first night. 

He’d been halfway through one of his… less subtle hints when you snapped. All you’d wanted was time. A bit of time. A tiny, miniature, speck of time to organize your thoughts, and he’d given you just short of what you’d needed. 

The key had been dangling from his fingers, for Merlin’s sake, and it took all the strength in your body not to snatch it out of his hands and throw it out the window of your own flat, the one the two of you were currently curled up in. 

“Stop it!” you spat. “I said I would think about it, right. I can’t think about anything with the way you’re keeping this up.”

He stalled, fingers wrapping around the gold key to hide it from view. His jaw snapped closed as your own clenched. 

“I’m sorry, I just…” you sighed. 

“No, I get it. I’ll give you some more time,” he said, a crack of thunder in the distance rumbling overhead as you watched him pull away from you to gather the few belongings he’d brought with him. 

He left with little more than a muttered goodbye as he slipped out the door. Not even a kiss, one you’d been hopeful enough to think would come despite your current situation. 

It’d been all his stupid idea, one you vehemently wanted to run away from. One that struck fear up your spine like lightning and sent fire licking at the base of your skull. An idea that, now, led you to be standing outside his old flat’s front door with ice-cold rain sticking your clothes to your skin and hot tears streaming down your cheeks hours after he’d left you reeling in your own flat. 

You knock on the door with feeble fingers, toes curling in your shoes as your socks meld to the skin of your feet. You wait a minute. Two minutes, nearly three before he throws open the door with only a pair of trousers on. 

“What are you-” he cuts himself off. “My love, are you crying?”

You barely manage out a shake of your head, a piss poor attempt at a lie, as a shiver rumbles through your torso. 

“Come here, come inside,” he steps aside enough to let you in. He shuts the door once you’re inside, immediately tugging you into his chest where the warmth of his skin does wonders to calm the tremors wracking through you. Both of his hands come up to cup your cheeks, drawing your face into his direct gaze no matter how much you want to shove your nose into his neck and hide from his worrying eyes. 

“What is it, darling?” His eyes scan your face as his hands hold the weight of your head up under your jaw. His thumb clears a tear off your cheek before it has the chance to fall. “C’mon, love. I can’t help you if you don’t tell me what’s wrong.”

“Please let me live with you,” you sniffle, hands coming up to grasp at the waistband of his pants. The way you’re clinging to him feels desperate, like he’d slip away if you managed to let go. 

“What?”

“I’m so sorry I let it go on this long. I’m sorry I ever made you think I don’t want this, want you. It’s all I’ve ever wanted,” you sob. “Please let me live with you.”

“I thought you wanted-”

“I thought I did, too,” you hiccup, and Theseus has to fight to hide the smile that’s working its way up his face. “But, then I realized what I really wanted was you. This. All of you.”

“You have me. You’ve always had me darling, promise,” he says. “And obviously I want you to live with me… but are you sure?”

You nod. 

“I need to hear you say it, lovely. You’ve kind of been fighting me on this since day one,” he says. “I’m sure,” you say. 

[theemporium]

sirius black is the kind of man to let you do anything to him. you can touch his hair (only you). you can pint his face with kisses, you can even do his makeup. paint his nails. sirius black is a quality time man. "want to paint my nails baby?" "mhmm, let me get the paint."

thank you for requesting!🖤

.

Sirius Black was absolutely and positively whipped for you.

And everybody but you knew that.

By some power that was beyond anybody’s understanding, you didn’t seem to understand the deeper meaning behind his actions. You didn’t bat an eye at the adoring looks he gave you, nor the compliments he was constantly showering you in. You didn’t question the way he would make up any excuse to be the one sitting next to you in class or at dinner, or even the amount of times he joined you in the library to study despite the fact he hardly got any work done.

But the biggest mystery was how you never seemed to understand Sirius’ feelings for you despite the fact you were the single person in that castle that was allowed to touch his hair. 

It was a well-known fact that Sirius loved his hair, and he prided himself in the fact it was known around the castle, no matter what year the students were in or if it was by the professors themselves. Everyone knew the care he put into his hair, and they knew he didn’t like anybody touching it—no matter what. 

There had been cases where Sirius found himself in detention because someone tried to mess with his hair and he hexed him. 

There had been dates quickly cut short when they had tried tangling their fingers in his hair. 

There had been threats made whenever the boys pushed too far with the jokes about his hair. 

But with you—he didn’t have a single care in the world, but that just seemed to be a fact that went over your head constantly.

“That feels delightful, darling,” he hummed in delight, his eyes falling shut as he rested his head against your lap, enjoying the way your nails lightly scratched against his scalp. 

He had practically barged into the library, packing your books away despite your insistence not too. But Sirius started bragging about what a great day it was—a rarity with Scottish weather—and insisted you take a small break with him in the courtyard. 

He had charmed a blanket out for both of you, and when you took a seat, Sirius was quick to place his head on your lap and give you an innocent grin that you knew the meaning of all too well. 

“I feel like you dragged me out here just to scratch your head like a dog rather than take a break from studying,” you mused, taking in the sharp lines of his face and how they contrasted when he looked as though he was in a peaceful sleep. 

“I just like your hands on me,” the boy remarked with a boyish grin, catching the hand you raised to smack his chest with before it even hit him. However, instead of letting it go, he intertwined your fingers together. “I just feel relaxed around you. I want to return the favour.” 

Your cheeks warmed. “That is the best compliment you’ve ever given me.” 

His lips twitched. “Does this mean you’re finally catching the hint that I’m flirting with you?” 

Your hand paused. “What?” 

Sirius let out a small whine when you stopped scratching his head but when he cracked his eyes open, he couldn’t help but grin a little at the confused expression on your face. “You really never noticed?” 

“I was supposed to?” you retorted. 

“Well yeah,” he said with a heavy sigh. “You get extra privileges.” 

“Like what?” 

“The fact your hand is anywhere near my hair right now is the biggest,” he said before he opened his eyes to properly look at you. “Like I said, I feel safe around you.” 

“So you trust me in touching your hair?” you asked in a slightly softer voice.

“Yeah, love,” he confirmed with a nod of his head. 

“You’re a secret softie, Sirius Black,” you murmured and delighted in the way his cheeks burned pink, but his grin mirrored your own. “I quite like you too.” 

“Thank Merlin for that, otherwise these head scratching breaks would’ve gotten really awkward,” he remarked, causing you to snort.

.

[imiwrites]

Drunken Confessions

Remus Lupin x Fem!Reader

Sypnosis: Y/N wasn't a party girl, always choosing to look after her friends instead of getting drunk herself. However, when the Gryffindors get their first win of the year, she can't help but celebrate.

Word Count: 1.4k

Warnings: drinking, kissing, crying, absolute fluff, sirius being a bit dumb but we love him anyway

masterlist

It was Gryffindor's first Quidditch win so far this year, and it was the first one with James as the captain. So, obviously, him and Sirius planned a big party in the common room the night of the win. 

Typically, Y/N didn’t drink at these parties, opting to watch out and care for her friends. However, tonight was different. She needed to relax, getting back into the school spirit was tough, and she needed a night off. Besides, she knew Remus wasn’t going to drink, so it’s not like her friends would need two people watching over them. Taking her mind off of everything would be nice, it was something she needed.

»↠ ≈☆≈ ↞«

The music was loud, blasting throughout the Gryffindor common room. Y/N didn’t know how Sirius and James had gotten enough alcohol to supply the whole Gryffindor house on such short notice, but she chose not to think too hard about it, instead grabbing a shot, letting the burning sensation linger in her throat.  Almost instantly, the alcohol calmed her, and she let out a relaxed breath, grabbing another and shooting it down.

“Enjoying it?” Sirius grinned, glad the girl was relaxing more. 

“Yeah,” Y/N mirrored Sirius’ grin. “Where’s Remus?” 

Sirius was the only one Y/N had told about her infatuation with Remus Lupin, and she could’ve sworn his grin grew wider when she asked. 

“He’s with James, over on the couch.” Sirius said, pointing towards a couch a few feet away from them, “Don’t do anything stupid, though.” 

Y/N frowned at that, “I’m practically sober, Pads. Only had two shots, I’m fine.” 

Sirius shrugged, “Just sayin’.” 

Y/N waved him off, walking towards the couch that Remus and James were sitting at, taking the spare space next to Remus. 

“Hey Y/N.” Remus smiled, tearing his eyes away from his book to meet hers. 

“Hi Remus.” Y/N grinned back, “Enjoying the night?” she asked, watching Remus’ head bop up and down as he nodded. 

“Yeah, not bad.” he leaned in closer to her ear, whispering so only she could hear, “James has been drunk-rambling to me about Lily this whole time, could barely concentrate. Thanks for saving me.” 

Y/N shivered at his warm breath on her ear, soaking in the feeling of being so close to him. “Of course, glad I could help.” she grinned back at him. “Want me to take James off your hands?” 

Remus smiled gratefully. “That would be amazing, Y/N, thank you, you're a life saver.” he said, hugging her side. Y/N turned her face away, making sure he didn’t see the redness in her cheeks. She stood up, walking over to James and grabbing his hand to pull him up.

“C’mon, get a drink with me, Prongs.” Y/N smiled, and noticed James’ face light up as she mentioned drinks. 

“Count me in!” James grinned, and the two walked over to the table holding the drinks.

»↠ ≈☆≈ ↞«

An hour or so had passed, and Y/N had more to drink. A lot more. 

Remus’ positioned hadn’t changed, but the book he was once reading, now sat upside down on his knee as he talked to a girl. 

Y/N had spotted this a while ago, but refused to look back over there, instead she sat on the floor next to Sirius, another drink sitting beside her. 

“It’s not fair,” she groaned to him, gesturing to the girl sitting with Remus. “How come she can so easily talk to him but I can’t.”

“I wouldn’t worry about it, Y/N,” Sirius tried to comfort, but the girl beside him cut him off. 

“He put his book down, Sirius! He never puts his book down.” she said, tears starting to well in her eyes. 

Sirius puts his arm around the girl, pulling her in to comfort her. “Hey, don’t worry. Remus is one of my best friends, and I swear to Merlin, that man has heart eyes for you.”

“Then why isn’t he talking to me like that?” she asked, leaning into the hug, the tears threatening to fall.

“This is Remus we’re talking about, Y/N. He’s too dense for his own good. I swear, he’s as infatuated with you as you are with him, he just needs to realise it.” Sirius encouraged, rubbing his hand up and down her arm. 

“But how?” Y/N groaned as she messily wiped her eyes.

“By making him jealous, of course!” Sirius grinned as the idea popped into his head, “That guy’s been watching you all night, and he’s standing right near Remus! He’s gonna get so super jealous.” 

Now, if she was sober, Y/N would know that this was an awful idea, and making Remus jealous would not be the way to his heart. But to her drunken mind, Sirius was an absolute genius, and she just had to give his idea a try.

»↠ ≈☆≈ ↞«

If Remus was to be completely honest, he would much rather be reading his book than talking to Rebekah.

Sure, she was nice, and she was funny, but there was only one girl he wanted to talk to at the moment, and she was nowhere in sight. So he continued listening to the girl in front of him, smiling and occasionally voicing his opinion on her discussions. 

Then, he spotted her. 

Y/N was walking alone, but she has the determined look on her face that Remus knew all too well. He watched her, smiling as she walked past, hoping she would stop and talk with him instead, or at least smile back, but she sauntered past, not sparing a single look.

“And then she muttered something under her breath, and clearly he heard her but I didn’t, and he just stared right at her, and he looked like he was going to hex her!... Remus, are you listening?” He wasn’t. He’d completely forgotten about Rebekah, as he watched you walk up to him. Remus didn’t know his name, but he’d seen him before. He was on the Quidditch team, and he was always making out with another girl every week. So he didn’t exactly understand why you completely ignored him, but wanted to talk to him.

“Sorry, go on, I’m listening.” 

He glanced back at the girl, then looked back at Y/N. Her hands were all over him, and she was giggling. Was she out of her mind? He couldn’t bear looking at them anymore, turning his full attention back to Rebekah, trying to get that awful image out of his head.

“Turns out, she kissed his best mate! I wouldn’t have even known she was capable of doing that, if I’m being honest with you.”

Remus tried his best to react accordingly, trying to get you out of his mind.

One glance shouldn’t hurt. He thought, turning his head, just in time to see Y/N kissing him. Not even a small peck, full, heavy making out. 

“Ooh, looks like Matthew’s found a new girl.” Rebekah pointed out, her eyes also watching them. 

“Would you excuse me?” Remus murmured, getting up without waiting for a response. He walked straight over to Y/N and Matthew.

“Oh, hi there, Rem.” she pulled away, giving him a shit-eating grin. 

“You don’t get to ‘Rem’ me, now come off him.” he huffed in annoyance, grabbing her by the arm and pulling her away. “You’re drunk Y/N, and you shouldn’t be making out with random boys.”

“Why, would you rather me kiss you instead?” Y/N sassed, and Remus flushed. 

“N-no! That’s not what I’m saying at all! I’m just telling you that… God, forget about it. Make out with him if you really want to. It’s not like I care.” He turned away, getting ready to leave.

“Can I tell you a secret, Remus?” she whispered, leaning in a bit closer, despite the fact that his frame was turned away from him. “I only made out with him because I wanted to make you jealous. You are the one I wanna kiss.”

Remus had never turned around so quickly. “What?” he whispered. 

“Mhmm. It was Sirius’ idea. He told me that you like me, but you don’t know and that I just needed to make you jealous.” “God, have you ever stopped to think about what Sirius says? He… doesn’t always have the best ideas.” he paused, taking in a breath. “He’s right though. I… I do like you.” Y/N grinned at that, her eyes sparkling. “You do? Does that mean I can actually kiss you?” 

“Maybe sober up first, love.”

[entitled-fangirl]

Feeling unwell.

James Potter x reader

Summary: the reader finds herself with a fever, and the boys help her feel better

A/N: this is such a little blurb but it was stuck in my head and I had to share it.

Masterlist

.......................................................

James creaked open his eyes, breaking the line of sleep that sealed them shut. He immediately moved to stretch but paused when he remembered the girl in his arms.

James' parents had been kind enough to let not only his girlfriend stay over the holiday, but Sirius as well. Peter and Remus made sure to visit once or twice throughout the month.

But James' girl was tucked against him, still fast asleep.

He reached up and brushed a piece of hair out of her face. 

His voice was soft and kind, "C'mon, love. It's time to wake."

Her body shifted barely before her eyes opened. They were glazed over still from sleep, and her face held an uneasy look to it. 

It was then that James really realized how warm the two had gotten.

"Merlin," he groaned as he put a hand on her forehead. "You're burning up, lovely."

She let out a small whine, too ill to say anything. 

He laughed lightly and pushed himself up on an elbow to really study her, "Feeling unwell?"

The girl groaned and stretched out, but immediately curled back up at the cold air of the bedroom.

James sat up completely now, "You stay. I'll get you something, alright?"

Like she was even able to argue. 

She still tried to, though. "N..I… 'M fine."

He laughed at her attempt. "Stay, love. I'll be back."

About that time, Sirius knocked on the door, "Is everyone dressed in there?"

James rolled his eyes. "Yes, Pads. Merlin."

Sirius threw the door open, "Morning, love birds. The sun is shining, the birds are ch-" he paused. "You sick, hun?"

The girl sat up on shaky arms and nodded, rubbing at her sleepy eyes. 

"Got herself a fever." James informs him. "Pretty nasty."

Sirius huffed, "And here I thought we would go out today."

"N..you still can… I… I'll stay here." She tried to reason.

"Hell no," Sirius immediately says. "We're not going without you."

"But Remus is.. he's on his way today… and I don't want him… to.."

"No, love." James said. "Remus won't mind. I promise."

"He'd rather stay in and read anyway, honestly." Sirius chirped in. 

She sighed and ran a hand through her unruly hair, "Promise?"

The two nodded. "Promise," James said.

Her boyfriend patted Sirius on the back and left to go get her some water.

Sirius watched him leave and then turned back to her, "You've got him whipped, you know?"

"W…whipped?"

"Merlin's beard, yes. Absolutely. Never seen him care for anyone this much."

She hummed, "I could say that about Remus to you."

Sirius blushed, "what?"

"C'mon, Pads. He likes you so much."

Sirius smiles, "I'm gonna blame this all on your fever."

"No, I swear!" She tries to reason.

He laughs and shakes his head, "We'll talk more about it when you feel better."

James returned with a small tray of muggle medicine, a glass of water, a wet cloth, and a bit of food for her to try. "I have all the remedies."

She falls back on the bed, "Thank Merlin."

James immediately puts the wet cloth to her head and she flinches at the coolness. After a while, she relaxes as she feels her temperature go down.

James and Sirius make conversation, James sitting next to her and Sirius sitting at the edge of the bed. 

"When's Moony coming along?" James asked.

"I think he said at 1. Can't remember." Sirius shrugs.

She tugs at James' sleeve.

He bends down, their faces inches from each other. She turns her head away from him.

"What's wrong?" He asked.

"Don't want you to get sick, Jamie."

He scoffs, "It's too late for that, lovely."

A very gentle kiss is left on her lips.

…

Remus was indeed on time. Actually, he was 3 minutes early, which to him was late.

"JAMES!" He yelled from the fireplace.

"Shhhh…" Sirius immediately shushed him as he rounded the corner.

"W… What's going on?" Remus asked worriedly. 

"Just," Sirius sighed. "Come see for yourself."

He grabbed the lycanthrope by the hand and pulled him to James' bedroom, ignoring the blush that spread across his cheeks.

Remus peaked his head into the room, his eyes finding James and his girlfriend fast asleep and cuddling, a mess of limps.

He smiled fondly and turned to Sirius who was also in the doorway. The proximity made him jump, then feel slightly flushed. "How long have they been asleep?" He whispered.

Sirius shrugged, "'bout an hour, I think."

Remus nodded, "I suppose it wouldn't be a shame if it was just the two of us spending time together."

Sirius felt like he couldn't even form words.

........................................................

[moonstruckme]

ur james roommate fic (amazing btw) just gave me an idea

what about pre relationship marauders and there all roommates or something or maybe just one of them a roommates with reader but they all like her and they are all watching a movie like “hey were is she” and one of them answers oh she’s just gone round her mates for a film night or something

then a few hours later she comes stumbling in drunk in a tight as hell dress and heels and they get shocked cause she’s normally so quiet and now here she is giggling and making all these jokes and she was out at a club and who is the lady???

if not that’s totally fine bae 🫶🏻🫶🏻

Thanks for requesting lovely!

cw: intoxication

roommate!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 967 words

“Think we ought to check up on her?” James asks halfway through the film. 

Remus doesn’t need to ask who he’s talking about. “Why?”

“It’s getting late.” James frowns out the window, where darkness has well and truly settled. “She’s never out this late. Wouldn’t we be pretty shit roommates if she was dead in a ditch somewhere and we didn’t even know?”

“What the hell do you plan to do, Prongs,” Sirius drawls, “send out a search party? It’s hardly eleven.” 

James looks like he’s thinking a search party’s not such a bad idea. “She said she was going to her mate’s place, and I’m pretty sure it’s book club night. Maybe they’re just going late.” 

Sirius scoffs. “You mean to say that on a Saturday night, she got so caught up talking about books that her meeting ran long?” He shakes his head, but his smile is fond. “What a fuckin’ nerd.” 

Remus cocks an eyebrow, jutting his chin toward the television. “We’re in on a Saturday night. What does that make us?”

James laughs as Sirius huffs, crossing his arms as he leans back against the couch. “Least we’re not talking about books.” 

By the time they finish their film, each of the boys is dead tired. Still, no one argues when James proposes starting another, an unspoken current of worry keeping them in the living room as the night wears on with no sign of your return. 

A couple hours later, James and Sirius have both fallen asleep, James drooling slightly on the top of Sirius’ head, when Remus hears keys in the door. Sirius stirs as your keys twist this way and that. There’s a stream of muffled curse words before you finally get it, the lock sliding free and the door swinging open. 

“Merlin,” Sirius breathes at the sight of you, rousing James. Remus is inclined to agree. 

You’re in a tiny little dress that Remus would have never been able to picture in your closet, the bodice tight and the hem barely skimming past your buttcheeks. You teeter in the door on high heels like a newborn fawn, unphased as if that’s the way you’ve been getting around all evening. You curse quietly when your shoes make a clacking sound against the floor, reaching down to slide them off. Remus can tell from the way you flex your feet that they’ve been hurting you. You start toward your bedroom cautiously, on tiptoe, and it’s a testament to your unusual state that you don’t notice the boys until you’ve nearly passed them on the couch. 

“Oh,” you say, still quiet as though you’re afraid to disturb some unseen sleeper. “You’re up. Hi!”

A laugh bubbles up out of Sirius. “Hi, gorgeous,” he says. “How was your night?”

“Ugh.” You grin, shoulders drooping as your eyes go wistful. “It was amazing. How was yours?”

“Not bad.” Sirius can’t seem to stop smiling, and James is the next of them to find his voice. 

“Angel,” he says, blinking as though he’s not quite sure he’s actually woken up, “are you drunk?”

You go shy, and Remus’ heart warms with incandescent, aching fondness at the sweet sheepishness that touches your smile. “Just like, a tiny little bit,” you giggle, like you think you might get in trouble and are thrilled with your rebellion. 

James shakes his head at you, mystified, and Remus scoots over, patting the spot next to him on the couch. “C’mere, love, talk to us for a bit.” 

You’re happy to comply, though not quite as happy as Sirius when you stumble on your way over and he gets to put his hands on your hips, guiding you to a sitting position. You cross your legs under you, and James flushes as each of the boys try to look anywhere other than your exposed underwear. You lean your shoulder into Remus slightly; he leans back. 

“What’d you get up to tonight?” He raises his eyebrows, delighting when you blush. Your lipstick has worn down to the liner, and you’ve got some sort of dark makeup smudged beneath your eyes. It takes everything in him not to brush his finger under your lashes and fix it. “We thought it was book club night.” 

“No, we pushed that ‘til tomorrow,” you say. “Tonight was real club night.” You let out a little laugh, and Remus grins more because of that than the joke itself. 

“I didn’t know you liked going out,” James says. “You haven’t done it in all the time we’ve lived here.” 

You make an incredulous sound. “Sure I have.” 

James’ eyebrows shoot straight up to his hairline. “When?”

You shrug. “I mean, not all the time. Once a month, maybe.” Your lips curve upward in a look Remus has never seen on your face before. It’s making it difficult to breathe. “What, you just always assume I’m in my room if you don’t see me leave? S’that it?”

“Sorta,” James mumbles, and Sirius grins at you, wrapping an arm around your shoulder and stealing you from Remus. 

“We’ll be more careful not to underestimate you in the future, sweet thing,” he promises, eyes half-lidded in that way that always reduces you to a blushing, stuttering mess. 

You don’t seem affected this time. “Good,” you reply, batting your lashes at him. Sirius blanches. 

James laughs at him. “Alright, I’ve got to see you in action,” he declares. “If we go out next weekend, will you come with us?” 

You tilt your head consideringly. “Sure,” you say, “but I don’t think many guys are going to come up to me if I’m with you lot. You’ll scare them all away.” 

Sirius scoffs. “Yeah, I’d fucking hope so.”  

“That’s alright, love,” Remus says. “We’ll find some way to make it up to you.” 

(cont)

[violetelegances-blog]

Hey, these are my Slytherin Boys React Scenarios, including Tom Riddle, Mattheo Riddle, Theo Nott, Enzo Berkshire and Draco Malfoy. There is a vast of different scenarios. These scenarios could also be found on my Wattpad profile -violetelegance- . I would be glad do receive feedback and requests. I hope you will like this. Have fun reading it.

Scenario: you walking in on them, while they’re changing

★ ᴛᴏᴍ ʀɪᴅᴅʟᴇ ★ As you timidly push open the door to the dimly lit chamber, you freeze, eyes widening. Tom Riddle stands before you, in the midst of changing. His gaze flickers up, meeting yours, a mixture of surprise and slight irritation. "You really should learn to knock, you know." You stammer, cheeks aflame, struggling to tear your gaze away. "I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to intrude. I'll... I'll leave." Tom's expression softens, observing your embarrassment. He swiftly finishes changing, his movements graceful yet deliberate. "No need to be overly flustered. It was an accident." You nod, still unable to look directly at him. The air feels charged, a palpable tension enveloping the room. Tom clears his throat, breaking the silence. "Well, since you're here, was there something you needed?" You muster up the courage to meet his gaze, your voice steadier now. "I... I wanted to discuss the latest Potions assignment." Tom inclines his head, a faint smile playing on his lips. "Very well, let's go over it then." As you both delve into the intricacies of the assignment, a newfound sense of camaraderie blossoms, the awkwardness of the moment fading into the background. This unexpected encounter, though mortifying, serves as the catalyst for a deeper connection between you and Tom Riddle.

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☆ ᴍᴀᴛᴛʜᴇᴏ ʀɪᴅᴅʟᴇ ☆ As you gently pushed open the door to Mattheo Riddle's chamber, your intention was merely to inquire about a book. However, the sight that met your eyes was unexpected. Mattheo, in the midst of changing, turned to face you with a surprised expression. His usually composed demeanor wavered for a moment, his stormy eyes widening slightly. "Oh, I... I apologize, I didn't hear you come in," he stammered, quickly reaching for his robes to cover himself. You felt a blush rise to your cheeks, averting your gaze. "I'm so sorry, Mattheo, I didn't mean to intrude," you stammered, cheeks aflame. He cleared his throat, his voice regaining its usual calmness. "No need to apologize. It was my oversight," he assured, though you could still detect a faint trace of embarrassment. After a brief moment, you mustered the courage to meet his gaze again. "I'll... I'll wait outside until you're ready," you managed, turning to leave. As you closed the door behind you, you couldn't help but replay the scene in your mind. The unexpected vulnerability of Mattheo had left an indelible mark, and you couldn't deny the fluttering in your chest at the thought of that shared moment.

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✡︎ ᴛʜᴇᴏᴅᴏʀᴇ ɴᴏᴛᴛ ✡︎ As you opened the door, you were met with an unexpected sight. Theo Nott, in the midst of changing, froze in surprise, his eyes widening. You quickly averted your gaze, cheeks flushing with embarrassment. "Oh Merlin, I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to intrude." Theo's voice, tinged with a mix of surprise and amusement, broke the brief silence. "No worries, it's my fault for not locking the door." He moved to shield himself with a nearby robe, still chuckling softly. "You're safe to look now." Turning back, you met his eyes, finding them warm and reassuring. The awkwardness melted away, replaced by a shared moment of laughter and understanding. "It's just... not exactly how I pictured our first encounter," you admitted, a small smile playing on your lips. Theo grinned, his charm putting you at ease. "Well, it's certainly memorable." As you left the room, a smile tugged at the corners of your mouth. This unexpected encounter had forged a connection, a shared moment that would be remembered fondly.

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✦ ʟᴏʀᴇɴᴢᴏ ʙᴇʀᴋsʜɪʀᴇ ✦ As you quietly pushed open the door to Enzo Berkshire's room, you hadn't expected to find him in the midst of changing. Time seemed to slow as your eyes met his, wide with surprise, and his cheeks flushed a deep shade of crimson. Enzo quickly averted his gaze, his voice stumbling over an apology. "I-I'm so sorry! I didn't realize anyone was coming in." You could feel the heat rising to your own cheeks, and you turned away, trying to give him some privacy. "I'm sorry, Enzo, I didn't mean to intrude." He hurriedly finished dressing, his tone slightly flustered. "No, it's alright. I should have locked the door. My fault entirely." Once he was decent, Enzo turned back to you, a sheepish smile on his face. "Let's just pretend this never happened, alright?" You nodded, a small laugh escaping your lips, diffusing the tension. "Agreed. I'll be sure to knock next time." As he chuckled in response, you both shared a moment of mutual understanding. From that point on, the incident became a humorous memory, a testament to the comfort and camaraderie that defined your relationship with Enzo.

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✧ ᴅʀᴀᴄᴏ ᴍᴀʟғᴏʏ ✧ As you opened the door, you were met with an unexpected sight. Draco Malfoy, usually the epitome of composure, stood frozen mid-motion, shirt halfway off, his grey eyes wide with surprise. You quickly averted your gaze, cheeks flushing crimson. "Oh Merlin, I'm so sorry, Draco!" you stammered, trying not to let your embarrassment show. Draco's voice was laced with a mixture of astonishment and amusement. "Well, this is certainly a new way to make an entrance." You could hear the smirk in his tone, which only made you feel more mortified. "I-I didn't mean to intrude. I'll just... I'll wait outside," you managed to stutter, backing away slowly. As you closed the door, you could hear Draco chuckle softly from the other side. "No need to be so flustered, Y/N. It's not like I haven't been seen shirtless before." You couldn't help but let out a nervous laugh. "Still, it's a matter of privacy, you know." "Fair point," Draco replied, his voice warm. "Next time, I'll make sure to lock the door."

[theonotti]

Pairing: Theodore Nott x fem!reader

Word Count: 3.8k

Summary: Years have past since the Battle of Hogwarts, and through his grief and desperation, Theo fights to get back every second lost since then.

Warnings: Major Character Death (Not Theo), it's just angst lads

Notes: Been a while! But I'm back with some writing! This fic will be 3 parts in total. Shoutout to @classyartisanpizza for letting me write this idea! <3

Masterlist

~

The nightmares are the worst part.

It's always the nightmares.

Theo wakes with a start, his chest heaving as he abruptly sits up. It takes a moment of his eyes darting around in fear for him to realise he's simply in bed. No battle. No green bursts of light flying inches from his head. No bodies dropping around him.

He closes his eyes, running his hand down his face to rid the beads of sweat rolling down his skin. Though he forces himself to take deep breaths, his heart continues to race. The room feels so warm. Why does the room feel so warm? His chestnut curls fall over his eyes, slightly matted to his forehead, and for the briefest of moments, he considers shaving his head.

The vivid technicolor of the nightmares always gets him. Blaring realism and exaggerated memories have him waking in a panic without fail.

A hand runs up Theo's lower back, followed by a soft voice speaking in tongues and distortion. A chill runs up his spine as his fight or flight kicks into high gear, causing him to jump off the bed and point his wand directly at the perpetrator.

Daphne Greengrass stares back at him, looking mainly annoyed yet mildly confused as she wraps the sheet around her naked form. There's a long, tense silence as the two of them stare at each other, and despite knowing there's no threat, Theo doesn't bother to lower his wand.

"I thought I said no sleeping over."

His voice is clipped, a stark contrast from the sultry tone he had taken with her the night before. Then again, he doesn't ever have to work in order for Daphne to become putty in his hands. Not really. Him putting on the show just makes him feel better about using her.

She sits up slightly, brushing a few strands of hair out of her face. Even in the dark, the blush that fills her cheeks is unmissable.

"You fell asleep and I-"

"That's not an invitation."

You're such an asshole, He tells himself. But he can't help it. The point of the rule was so that he'd never have to wake up to Daphne. She's not ugly, or entirely terrible to be around. But his care for her only extends to the point of what she does for him. A means to an end. And the end is to distract him from the never ending abyss of his mind and the standing void in his chest.

Besides, that spot in the bed belongs to someone else.

Belonged-

No. Belongs.

Another beat passes before Theo realises that his wand is still raised, and he finally lowers it to his side. Although he should feel worse about his overreaction, he's only a slight tinged embarrassed. It's being overshadowed by his annoyance.

Daphne takes a moment to stare at him, her eyes searching his face for the humour that never comes. A quiet sigh of relief escapes his mouth when she finally climbs out of his bed and starts to get dressed.

"What are you doing later?" She asks while pulling her shirt over her head.

The clock on the wall reads quarter till three in the morning.

Theo tries to hide his smug irritation at the fact that she's already trying to plan when she sees him again, despite his complete disregard for her only moments ago.

When he doesn't respond right away, Daphne looks over at him, throwing a sock off his floor right at his face. In another life, with another person, Theo would've found this gesture amusing, but right now, he just stares at her in exasperation.

"I'm busy."

Merlin, you're a fucking asshole.

But Daphne remains unfazed as she pulls her jeans up her legs and fastens them.

"Maybe next week then? I'm working all weekend."

And despite his self awareness, Theo just can't fucking help himself.

"I'll call you."

Now he's done it. The sting ripples through her face as she pauses all movement, her eyes falling back on him. Under her confused gaze, the temperature in the room falls, but Theo keeps his expression neutral. For a long moment, they just stare at each other in tense silence, before finally Daphne breaks the prolonged eye contact to finish putting her trainers on.

"I don't understand why we keep doing this, Theo," She says in a low voice as she ties her right shoe. It's clear she's trying to be more confident in her words than hurt, but she's failing. "You clearly don't want to commit to me or even care about me. Why do you keep phoning if you can't be bothered?"

Theo leans his back against the wall, his shoulder brushing the door frame of his bedroom. The words leave his mouth before he's able to process them, or to consider not saying them.

"Because you always come running."

Twenty years on this planet and you still don't know when to shut your bloody mouth.

Daphne looks appalled as the words hang in the air. Despite the fact that Theo's guilt is radiating off of him and filling the room at a suffocating rate, he continues to say nothing else. An eternity later, she snatches her coat off the floor and storms out of the room, slamming Theo's bedroom door so loudly that he flinches, followed by the slamming of the front door of his flat.

Silence.

Silence.

Silence.

Theo pushes off the wall, walking over to his bed and collapsing on top of the covers.

Silence.

Silence.

Silence.

As he buries his face in the pillow, desperate to go back to sleep, his mind starts to drift back to the nightmare that started the domino effect events of the evening. A chill runs up his spine for a second time as he dives head first into the dreams that haunt his subconscious damn near every time he closes his eyes.

The falling bodies.

The walls crumbling down.

The flashes of bright green flying passed his head.

The set of eyes. His favourites. Watching as the life drains out of them.

Theo abruptly jumps out of his bed, his hands trembling slightly as he walks briskly to the door and throws it open. His flat is dead silent, save the sound of his footsteps across the hardwood floor. Through the darkness, he can make out the faint outline of his black cat moving quickly across the floor towards him.

"Piss off, Shadow," He mutters to the cat. She doesn't seem to notice his hostility as she continues to move between his legs. But he's quite rehearsed in this dance at this point, and manages to cross the pitch black living room without tripping over her and falling on his face. He makes his way to the spare bedroom, the room that used to be where he worked on his potions.

That is, until more important projects grabbed Theo in a chokehold.

Unlocking the door with his wand, he quickly goes inside quickly, making sure the cat didn't follow him through before shutting the door behind him.

~

"Mattheo, I'm fine."

"Is the kidnapper in the room with you and forcing you to say that?"

Theo rolls his eyes, rubbing his right eyelid with his free hand as his other one stirs the brewing potion in the cauldron in front of him. His phone rests on the desk next to him with his best friend's display name taking over the screen, the call on speaker.

"You think a kidnapper would willingly keep me?" He asks as he lets his free hand drop back to his wooden desk, accidentally into a puddle of spilled potion that had toppled from the cauldron. Making a face, Theo instinctively wipes his fingers off on his jeans. "They'd return me before you'd even realised I'm gone."

Mattheo lets out a quiet laugh before saying, "You're right. I'd say we could use the break, but no one's seen you in weeks."

Theo lets his other hand drop to the desk, sighing exasperatedly.

"Mate. We've just hung out. At the Leaky Cauldron, yeah? When Malfoy got so piss drunk, he fell in the toilets and smacked his face on a sink."

The memory causes a ghost of a smile to form on Theo's face, but the silence on the other end of the phone causes it to fade just as quickly.

"Hello? Did I lose you, Riddle?"

When Mattheo speaks, his voice is uncharacteristically quiet.

"That was two months ago."

Every single muscle in Theo's face slackens.

"What? No. That can't be right. It was just two weeks ago, yeah?"

"No, Theo. It was two months ago."

Shaking his head, Theo grabs his phone, switching to check the date as he stammers whispered denials, more to himself than anything. But Mattheo is right. Two months have passed since that last hangout, and besides the occasional mess around with Daphne, which he assumes are now over since the debacle a few nights prior, Theo hasn't seen anyone else since.

Where did the time go?

You know where the time went.

"We're really worried, mate," Mattheo says in a soft voice. "I know it's been hard, but-"

"Don't," Theo barks, almost instinctively as he sets his phone back on the desk. He knows where this conversation is going, because this is where the conversation always goes.

"It's been almost three years, Theo."

Theo shakes his head, his eyes closing as the air slowly starts to syphon from the room.

"It's not- Surely I can't be expected to just forget."

A quiet sigh rings out from the other side of the phone, as Theo fights to keep his rising emotions in check.

"Of course you wouldn't forget. We just-"

Theo quickly shakes his head, not wanting to hear the same things he always here's when one of his friends decides to play therapist for him.

"Oh shit, I've just remembered I have better things to do than have this conversation."

Theo lifts his hand towards his phone, with the intent to hang up, when he heard Mattheo's desperate voice quickly calling to him.

"Meet in the Three Broomsticks tonight!"

Theo pauses, staring at his phone as his brain starts its usual war on itself whenever someone wants him to do anything that isn't rotting at home. On one hand, going out with his friends would placate them for long enough that they won't have yet another conversation like this one. But on the other hand…

He's close. He's so close to figuring it out. And any time that isn't dedicated to figuring it out is, in his eyes, a complete waste.

But as he stares down at his best friend's name on his phone, he lets out a heavy sigh.

"Piss off."

He can practically hear Mattheo's smug grin in his voice.

"See you there," He says, before promptly hanging up the phone.

A heavy sigh forcing its way out of his mouth, Theo turns back to the cauldron in front of him.

You need a break.

Maybe stepping back for a night and coming back will trigger an epiphany.

Theo lets out a resigned sigh. The last thing he wants to do is step away. When he's away from the work room, he feels like he can't breathe. When he's not working or researching or planning or even contemplating, he feels like he's drowning.

In his head, he's running out of time. But with every centimetre closer he gets to the finish line, he gets another centimetre closer to getting every lost moment back.

~

The remaining butterbeer swishes circles at the bottom of the glass as Theo twists it with his wrist. A quiet yet fake laugh comes out of his mouth, if only to mix in with the loud, howl-like laughter surrounding him from whatever funny thing Blaise just said.

Merlin, I should've gotten a firewhiskey.

Though, he knows it would've been a bad idea. His tolerance for alcohol has grown concerningly high over the last few years, and he doesn't want to explain why he would've been fully functional after seven hard drinks while his friends would be well beyond wasted.

So he sips his butterbeer under the guise that he has an early morning the next day. If he had more observant friends, they would see through this excuse, but fortunately for him, they tend to miss a lot when it comes down to the quiet, chestnut haired lad whose mind is rarely on planet Earth.

"Oi. Space Cadet. Can you join us for a moment?"

Theo takes a casual drink from his glass as his eyes land on Malfoy.

"Give me something worth joining in on," He quips as he gently sets the glass back down on the table. The blond rolls his eyes as Mattheo and Blaise both let out a chuckle.

"We were just talking about the Harpies. Whether they'll make the cup," Mattheo explains just as the barmaid approaches with their refills. The fresh butterbeer is set down in front of Theo at the same time as he lets out his own laugh. A genuine one, this time.

"The Harpies will make the Cup the same day Malfoy stops bleaching his hair."

Now it's howling laughter from the two other lads as Malfoy slams his mug down on the table, pointing at Theo maliciously.

"Don't start your bullshit, Nott."

"I saw the bottle in your trunk, Malfoy. Third year. One never forgets."

"I don't bleach my fucking hair, and if you say it again, I'll make sure you can't see it ever again."

Theo doesn't miss a beat.

"Is that a promise?"

As Riddle and Zabini keep giggling, the alcohol already to their heads, Theo keeps his wits about him as he stares at the tip of Draco's finger that's still only inches from his face.

"Stand down, Malfoy," Blaise finally interjects. "You've become entirely too serious since getting hitched."

The silver band on that left fourth finger glints in the dim lighting as Draco pulls his arm back down towards his lap. Despite his recoil at the scolding, his eyes don't quite stop glaring their daggers towards Theo, who takes another unbothered sip of his drink.

"Maybe it helped me grow up. Someone should take a page out of that book."

Theo feels his fingers tense around the glass, the heat rushing to his cheeks.

Prick.

Prick.

Absolute wanker.

Dead man walking.

If my life hadn't fallen apart, I would've been married by now. Maybe I'd even have kids.

A wave of nausea hits him at the thought. Instinctively, his eyes shift to look at the door, as his mind searches for his excuse to leave. If his shift in demeanour isn't obvious to every person at the table, it definitely is to Mattheo, who quickly clears his throat.

"Anyone hear about the hunt for whoever's trying to replicate the time turners?"

Theo's entire body ceases, his throat trapping any sound or breath from escaping, meanwhile his brain starts to race at speeds he has never experienced before. The conversation shifts to this topic as Theo desperately tries to remember how to breathe.

"What's the hold up?" Blaise questions before he empties his glass. Mattheo does the same while lifting his shoulders into a shrug.

"Whoever is doing it, they've covered their tracks quite well. But the Ministry has their best people trying to find them before they're able to muck up anything."

A quiet murmur fills the silence of the table. Sweat beads Theo's forehead as he accidentally chugs his entire glass. No one appears to notice, to his relief.

"How are they able to track that?" Malfoy asks curiously as he drums his fingers against the wood top table.

"A time turner has an Hour Reversal charm encased in the centre," Mattheo explains. "The Ministry is alerted every time one is cast, but whoever is doing it has protected themselves so much that their location is damn near impossible to track." Mattheo pauses to take a drink before he continues. "If it wasn't so infuriating, I'd be impressed."

A slight smirk crosses Malfoy's face before he says, "I take it the 'Ministry's best people' includes your team?"

Mattheo rolls his eyes, though the slight pink hue that covers his cheeks is unmissable. Despite him being nothing like his father, Mattheo has always been slightly embarrassed by his position in the Ministry. While Zabini, Malfoy and Theo all view it as a growth and a middle finger to Voldemort and the Death Eaters, Mattheo sometimes views it as a betrayal, though he only mentions it after he's hit a certain point of inebriation.

"It is a job for the Misuse of Magic department, in my opinion. So yeah, the best people include my team."

Silence fills the table as everyone takes a sip of their drinks. Theo swallows the lump in his throat.

And then he speaks.

"Any evidence that they've been successful?"

The table turns to look at him, and he does his best to appear casual when he shrugs.

"Just curious."

Mattheo shakes his head.

"We'll be alerted if they actually go back," He explains. "Which will lead to their arrest, if they continue to use the Hour Reversal charm."

"Doesn't that only go back five hours?" Blaise asks, receiving a nod from the curly haired man to his right. Theo can feel the impending panic rising in his chest, but he swallows it down.

In theory, it's only five hours.

But with a little tampering, it's longer.

Not that I would know.

No sir.

"Not unless they do something to strengthen the spell," Mattheo says casually. "Like some sort of potion. Or enchanting the sand in the Hourglass."

Theo's face goes slack, and it feels like his entire body grows hot.

There it is.

That epiphany.

His eyes fall back onto Mattheo, the room glowing in a new light as a chill slowly trails down through his extremities and his fingers and toes.

Instinctively, Theo tries to stand before he realises he's in the corner seat of the booth. The rest of the table looks at him in surprise.

"Nott?" Malfoy asks as Theo uses the table and the ledge behind the seat to launch himself over Mattheo and the booth, out into the aisle, only making their shock grow further.

"Fuck, sorry I forgot. I need to- I have-" He stammers, knowing full well nothing he says will be able to explain his sudden change in demeanour. The looks on their faces are the same sort of looks they'd have if he had stripped down in front of them and started screaming like a banshee. He closes his eyes, putting his hands out in front of him as he takes a second to calm down. When he speaks again, it's with less urgency. "I need to go."

And with that, Theo turns and sprints out of the Three Broomsticks.

Before the door swings shut behind him, he can make out Mattheo's distant voice shouting his name. But if any of the lads make any attempt to follow, Theo moves too fast for them to have any sort of success. Once out of the village, Theo apparates back home.

Where he stays for almost ninety six straight hours.

He doesn't sleep. He doesn't eat. He barely leaves his office to use the bathroom. And he definitely doesn't shower.

Theo's marathon is filled with work. The spell strengthening potion alone takes sixteen hours to brew, needing close management. And that was after all of the work he needed to put in in order to put the potion together. Meanwhile, he does an appalling amount of research, scouring text upon text about how one would enchant the sand. When he comes up with next to nothing after twelve hours worth of reading, he moves on to Plan B.

He starts to create his own spells.

It's not the first time Theo's dabbled in spell creation, but it is the first time it's something that's more serious than trying to make Malfoy's farts come out as actual bubbles. (A failed experiment, much to his thirteen year old self's detriment.) But this time is different. Hanging over the desk where he works is the picture of his motivation. And every time he starts to feel like he's failing, he looks up at the picture and a new resolve fills him.

Because he can't fail.

Failing isn't and never will be an option.

Every botched attempt leads to more research. Every new piece of information brings him that much closer.

Until, after almost ninety six hours of what he thought was going to lead to nothing, the moment is here.

He pulls the time turner out of the cauldron, and he can feel it. Despite having used the tongs to pull it out from the potion, Theo can feel the silver metals vibrating with magic, and that's how he knew.

It worked.

His hands tremble in the same manner as he reaches to touch it, almost hesitant from the anxiety that is running rampant in his head. But when his fingertips graze the warmth of the metal, nothing happens. Nothing changes. He looks around the room for a brief moment before looking back down at the makeshift Time Turner in his hands.

Spinning his chair around and leaning back, he examines the creation. His mind is quick to resume his doubts that it didn't work, despite the pure confidence he had just a moment before. Couldn't have worked. Because nothing he's done in the last few years has.

And yet.

There's only one way to find out.

Grabbing his phone from his pocket, he props it up on his knee before he turns the screen on.

And then, he gives the spindle in his hand a turn to the right.

Theo can feel his heart stop as he watches the minutes on his phone go down with every tick of the Time Turner.

It worked.

It actually fucking worked.

A tsunami of emotions runs through Theo, overwhelming him so strongly that he has to turn back around to lean on his desk. For a moment, he lays his head on the desk, in the cradle that is his arms, basking in the darkness as he takes three long, deep breaths.

And then he looks up to the picture on the wall.

To his motivation. To the one he's been working for.

To the picture of you.

"Did you see that, pretty girl?" He asks in a gentle voice.

The spell hits your chest.

And the life leaves your eyes.

His voice is a little choked as he raises the Time Turner to the picture on the wall, wishing once again it was actually you and not just a moving idea behind a piece of paper.

"I'm coming for you."

[ellecdc]

Come Back, Be Here (part 5)

Sirius Black x fem!reader - First Wizarding War Order of the Phoenix - 3.5k p1 // p2 // p3 // p4 // p5 // p6 // p7 // p8

⚠️CW: graphic descriptions of injury, blood & gore, combat (people die), painful goodbyes, swearing (I wrote it so there's swearing, but I think you all know that by now)

Synopsis: The story of how you sacrificed yourself to save your friend and Order partner James months before. And what the fuck is Kreacher up to?

👋AN: I have never written (well anything TBF) combat/action before and I was very uncomfortable the entire time so I'm 1) glad it's over (for now) and 2) very sorry if it's awkward or painful to read. I'd love feedback or suggestions as I believe this story may involve more. xx

The spring-time sun meant you had an easier time staying comfortable during the day, but as the sun dipped below the top of the building across from you, it was becoming increasingly harder to stay warm. You sat on an overturned crate in an abandoned building watching the alleyway below you as you nibbled on a granola bar. It tasted like ash.

“Should we check in again?” James asked, leaning in front of you to peek out the partially broken window.

You fought the urge to roll your eyes. “We checked in only minutes ago, Prongs.”

He hummed in disgruntled acknowledgment. 

“Do you ever think about just like jumping when you look out a window?” James asked as he leaned a little too close to the jagged edge of the window for your liking.

“Pardon me?”

“You know, like when you’re on a bridge and you think ‘I could totally just launch myself off of this right now’, or when you’re holding something really expensive or delicate and you just want to throw it at a wall.”

You stared at your friend for a moment.

“Those are called intrusive thoughts, Jamie.”

“Are they bad?”

“Only when they stop being thoughts and turn into actions.”

“Got it.” He said with a nod.

“Hey, James?”

“Yeah.”

“Step away from the window please.”

He sighed and plopped down unceremoniously beside you. You offered him the rest of your granola bar which he only accepted once you assured him you were finished. 

You moved to sit on the floor so the two of you could play tic-tac-toe in the dust. James complained about breaking a nail and you agreed to check in with Emmeline and Benjy twice more over the following few hours.

“Okay; fuck, marry, avada: Helga Hufflepuff, the Minister of Magic, Merlin.” James asked.

You blew out a breath and leaned back onto your hands. “Hmmmm, how many times do I have to fuck them?”

“Just once.”

“Okay, and do I have to stay married forever and ever?”

“Uh, duh. Till death do you part.” He answered incredulously. 

“Will I die soon?”

James gave you an unimpressed look.

“Okay, uhm, ugh, I hate politicians, James.”

“I don’t want your life story, just answer the question.” 

“Fine. Fuck Merlin, marry Helga, avada the Minister.” You said, though you couldn’t help but cautiously look over your shoulder lest the Minister himself hear your treasonous answer. 

“Explain.”

“I just think Helga would treat me right.”

James nodded solemnly. “And the others?”

“You just said you didn’t want my life story.” 

“You’re right. Do me next.”

“In your dreams, Potter.”

James rolled his eyes. “Get your mind out of the gutter.” 

You chuckled and looked down at the street again.

“I don’t know James; it’s been pretty quiet. How long have we been here?” 

James shifted his weight to one hand in order to check his watch. “Well, we got here at, what, eight this morning? It’s been about twelve hours of nothing.”

You hummed in acknowledgement. “What do you think? Do you want to get home to Lily and Haz, or keep watch?” 

James groaned. “I always want to go home to Lily and Haz, but Benjy and Em were on this stake out yesterday too.”

You nodded and stood. You conjured your patronus and told Benjy and Emmeline that it was quiet enough for them to leave, and that James and you would stay for a little bit longer just in case. The silvery fox jumped once before it disappeared through the walls of the building, sending your message to the other team.

James chuckled. “Do you remember how pissed off Sirius was when he found out you had become an animagus?”

You smirked at the memory. “That was back when he hated me.”

James guffawed. “He never hated you.”

“Yes, he did!”

“Nuh uh, he thought he was playing it cool, but he fell just as hard for you as I did with my Lily flower.”

You shook your head. “No one fell as hard as you did, Jamie.”

“Too true.” He agreed. “I’m the best at everything I do.”

“I think he was mostly mad that I’d managed to do it by myself, whilst the three of you bumbled your way through it together.”

“Yeah. You started after us and managed to finish before Pete did.”

You chuckled at the memory.

(Hogwarts boat-house, 4th year)

“I don’t understand why you’re getting so worked up about this.”

Sirius looked at you incredulously. “Uhm, how about because it’s dangerous? What even compelled you to do something like this?”

“Uhm, you guys were doing it?”

“So?”

“So? If you can do it, why can’t I?” 

“Do you know how much trouble you could get into for this?” He asked while pinching the space between his brows.

“Why? Are you going to rat me out?”

Sirius guffawed. “I’m not a snitch, Dollface.”

You smiled wickedly at him. “Good, then shut up about it.”

You stood and stretched your limbs, stiff from the day of waiting for nothing to happen.

“I’m confused, James.” You said, poking your head into the window again. “Didn’t the tip suggest that this was a major meeting spot for Death Eaters and allies?”

James hummed in acknowledgement. 

“Then why haven’t we seen anything all day?”

He looked at you curiously. “I don’t know...isn’t no news good news?”

You groaned. “I don’t know. Not if we’re to believe the tip.”

“You think it was false?” 

You made a non-committal sound as you started to pace the room. 

“I mean, I guess it is weird for nothing to happen two days in a row.”

You stopped dead in your tracks. “Two days?”

James nodded at you. “Yeah, Emmeline and Benjy were here yesterday.”

“They were here yesterday?”

“Are you feeling okay? I literally just said that.” 

“Fuck, James, where did this tip come from?”

James scrunched his eyebrows. “I don’t know, Vix.”

You both stared at each other for a few moments. “I think we should leave.” You said.

“Apparate to location seven?” James asked as you helped him stand.

“Yep.”

You both pulled your wands and spun to apparate.

You looked at each other in confusion. 

After a quick nod, you both spun again.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” You muttered before moving back to the window; neither teams had any problems apparating in or out earlier today.

“Vix, this isn’t good.” 

“Alright,” you breathed out, squaring your shoulders, “alright. Let’s scout the area. We’ll find out where this anti-apparition ward ends and get the hell out of here.”

James, looking far paler than he had moments ago, offered you one nod before getting into stance and following you to the door. 

You grabbed the handle and heard an awful searing sound before you realized it was the sound of your hand against the metal doorknob. 

“FUCK!” You shouted as you pulled your hand away, blisters already littering the palm of your hand. James quickly cast an auguamenti over your hand followed by a glacius. The stinging slowly subsided but you could still feel your heartbeat in your palm, and tears threatened to spill from your eyes. 

James leaned his ear closer to the door. “I...I feel like I hear a dragon?”

You paled. 

“Fiendfyre.”

You moved over to the window and cast a despulso, shattering the remaining glass and leaning out of it. 

“This way.” You said to James over your shoulder before changing into Vixen and jumping down two storeys. Your paws stumbled beneath you as you landed awkwardly, but you fared better than you would have in your human form.

James looked down at you from the window as you changed back to your human form before giving him a quick nod. He jumped and you cast an arresto momentum, slowly lowering him to the ground. 

You both tried to apparate again to no prevail. James cast a revelio which illuminated the shimmery grid lock of the ward around you. 

“It doesn’t look like it goes far. We just need to make it to the street.” James said as he nodded his head down the alleyway. 

You began in that direction when two shadowy, masked figures stepped into the alley from the street. You huffed and figured you’d fare better on the other end, save having to climb over the barbed wire. When you turned again to run, another set of masked figures stepped out on that end too.

“I wouldn’t do that, if I were you.” One of them sing-songed. 

“Through the building.” James commanded and the two of you moved to the door of the building across the alleyway.

James cast a despulso to open the door as you threw a bombarda at the second set of Death Eaters. You narrowly dodged a confringo as more bolts of light shot your way.

You ran down the hall, looking around corners for signs of an exit. You passed a hallway and felt a hand grab your arm before you were slammed into the wall.

A wand was pressed to your throat when you heard James cast a flipendo. The wizard pinning you was sent flying, so you righted yourself and grabbed James’s hand before sprinting down the hallway again. 

You shot a hex at a fire extinguisher as you passed it which fogged up the hallway behind you. 

“Confringo!” A voice suddenly shouted from ahead. A ball of fire hit James’s square in the chest as he moved to block you from it. He fell to the ground with a thud as you cast a protego around the two of you. 

Three more casts bounced off of your shield before you shot an incendio at them, watching the robes and masks melt away before the wizards turned to ash. 

“You idiot!” You gritted through your teeth as you cast healing charms over James’ burn. 

“Wake up James, get your arse up.” You insisted, gripping his chin and shaking his head back and forth. 

You looked up at the sound of running and shot another bombarda behind you. The sickening sound of a body hitting a wall and sliding to the ground let you know you hit your mark as you continued to rouse James.

“You need to get up James. Come on, let’s go.” You said as you hauled him into a sitting position. You mentally cursed him and his dedication to the gym as you tried to manhandle his 183cm (six-foot) pure muscle figure. The movement caused him to groan.

“Yes, come on Prongs, get up, we need to go.” You insisted, giving him another shake. The burning in your hand was starting to return and you felt the beginnings of a wicked headache coming on. You could hear shouting from the floor above you – you had company. 

The wall behind you exploded suddenly and threw you both across the hall. Your head made a sickening crack as it met the brick wall and James was covered with rubble.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” You moaned as you felt heat spread down your neck. You ripped a large piece of glass from your right thigh as you stood, which began to bleed far too quickly for your liking. Wobbly as all hell, you moved over to James and pulled the cinderblocks from his body.

“Come on Potter,” you muttered. “You’ve got a wife and kid at home.”

He groaned in agony as you pulled him into a crouch.

“And you’ve got a Sirius.” He slurred.

“Exactly,” you grunted as you used your wand to throw a piece of wall at some assailants to your left. “And if I go home to my boyfriend without his boyfriend, he will have my head.”

Both of you hissed in pain as you stood, but you trudged through the rubble and moved to the end of the hall. You pushed through a door which brought you out into an alleyway parallel to the one you guys had just been in. You cast a revelioand saw that the anti-apparition ward ended at the sidewalk about ten yards away. 

The sound of an explosion followed by screaming made you turn. The building you and James had been in for your stake out had been completely consumed by the fiendfyre and was spreading to the building you just exited. 

“The fiendfyre caused friendly fire.” James muttered. 

You pushed at his shoulder and directed him toward the street. “James, this way, we’re almost-” 

“BOMBARDA.”

“No!”

The wind was knocked clean out of you and your senses vanished. You saw bright white and couldn’t hear anything past the ringing in your ears. You tried to stay calm as you willed your lungs to take in more air. 

You were aware of someone standing above you, or in front of you, but you couldn’t see or hear them. There were hands, warm hands, you were being shaken. 

“No, no, no, no, no, no, no.” 

Choking.

You could hear choking.

You could hear!

You hear yourself choking. 

You sucked in a deep breath that caused an unbelievable amount of pain in your stomach; the breath shuddered as it left your body. 

“No, no, no. Vix please.”

You opened your eyes. Though your eyesight was still white around the edges you could see James’ face in front of yours.

“Y/N, we’re almost there.” James whimpered, tilting his head toward the sidewalk where the ward line ended. You lifted your hand to your head even though it felt like it weighed a thousand pounds and when you pulled your hand back it was red. 

“James.” You choked out. “Go, I’ll find you.”

“Y/N.”

You attempted to sit up straighter, but it elicited a strangled sob from you. You felt a strange pressure in the left of your stomach, and when you looked down you could see why.

Your head, also feeling like it weighed a thousand pounds, lolled as you lifted your shirt to expose a metal rod that had impaled you from behind. Your view of the injury quickly became obscured as blood flowed from the wound. Between the wound to your thigh, and now your stomach, the gravel below you was quickly becoming drenched in your blood. You knew then. This injury was well beyond either of your wheelhouse.

“Jamie.”

“No.”

“James.” You whined quietly, lolling your head back against the fence behind you. “You have to go.” 

“Y/N, I won’t. I cannot leave without you.” 

“You have to.” 

“No.” He cried miserably. 

You took a few breaths, heart hurting both from blood loss and for your partner.

“What about Sirius? Hm?” He shot at you.

You smiled at the thought of your sweet boy. You felt like you could smell him now; worn leather, caramel, and his cigarettes. You knew he tried to spell the smell away, but it never really worked; you’d learned to associate the scent with him though, so you mostly didn’t mind. 

“You’ll take care of him for me, won’t you?” You asked your friend, offering him a tired smile. Tears fell from his eyes; he was too pretty to cry, you thought. 

“Vix, please, he needs you.”

“Thank him for me?”

James sobbed.

“I’m so-” you grunted and fought the urge to gag. “I’m so thankful for him. For all of you.”

“Y/N.”

“Tell him I’d do it all again. Every moment of it. If it meant I got to love him.” You breathed in deeply. “It was worth every minute of it.” 

A portion of the building behind James collapsed in on itself under the flames, but neither of you moved your gaze from the other. 

“Tell him for me?” You asked again.

James’s face was scrunched in pain as he nodded.

“I’m sorry, Y/N.” He cried.

“I’m not.” You said as you shook your head. “I don’t re-I don’t-” You tried to take a deep breath but found yourself unable to.

“I don’t regret anything.” You finished on an exhale. 

The building behind James continued to fall as smoke and debris fell around the two of you. You shakily lifted one of your hands to his face and wiped at the tear tracks lining his cheeks. You lifted your wand in the other and cast a diffindo at the death eaters approaching behind him. You were thankful your vision was going, knowing the sight behind James would be unbelievably gruesome. 

“I-” you started, your breathing becoming erratic. “I love you. All of you.”

James nodded as he leaned down to kiss your forehead. 

“I am so lucky to have known you, Vix.”

“Go now.” You said quietly.

James held your head to his shoulder.

“You - you have to go.” 

James kissed your head again.

“Go.”

You rested your head against your own shoulder as you watched James hobble to the end of the alleyway. You did it, you thought to yourself, you saved him.

James made it to the sidewalk when he turned to face you. You tried to offer him one last smile as he spun and apparated away.

A sob tore through you, and it felt as though it emptied your lungs of any remaining air. 

No matter, you wouldn’t need air anymore anyway.

“I’m sorry I didn’t make it home, Siri.” You thought. “I’ll find you in our next life, and I’ll love you there too.” 

With a shuddering sigh, you fell asleep. 

It was dark. It made sense. Death would be dark. Should it be cold? Perhaps. You only wished it wasn’t also painful. It was quiet, but you could hear.

“Why waste your energy on a pathetic mudblood?”

“Information. Knowledge is power, after all.”

“Couldn’t you have found a mudblood that wasn’t so close to death then?”

“We would’ve had more to choose from had someone not thought to fight with fiendfyre instead of a good old incendio.”

“Incendio was boring, I wanted to spice things up a little.”

“Your penchant for spice lost us numbers, Junior. The Dark Lord will not be pleased.”

“Then we’ll get the mudblood talking. Once we get information, the numbers won’t matter.” 

“You ignorant-”

“Enough! What’s done is done. Someone will have to take responsibility for the repercussions when the time comes.”

“Severus is right. For now, the mudblood comes with me.”

“Absolutely not.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“The last prisoner did not even survive the night under your watch.”

“Pfft. You should have heard the mouth on that nasty witch. I did the world a favour.”

“Foulness tends to be a common trait of the Order. Please do keep up, Goyle.”

“I do not see how you are in any position to be barking orders around here. You are barely out of Hogwarts yourself, child.”

“Yes, and this child received their dark mark before they even graduated. In fact, Mulciber, I have had my mark longer than you.”

“What do you even want with the mudblood anyway?”

“Trying to keep it in the family, baby Black?”

“Yes, Purebloods tend to do that. I can see that your ancestors kept it a little too close to home, however.”

“You don’t know what to do with a prisoner; let the rest of us enjoy her a little.”

“I am not concerned about enjoying, you imbecile. I work for the Dark Lord, that is my only concern. I am one of the most skilled legillimens and occlumens here, I will not let my dick get in the way of getting information for the Dark Lord, unlike the rest of you, so I will take the mudblood.” 

“Hmph, well, we’ll see how long this lasts.”

You listen: Doors. Floorboards. Parchment. Fireplace.

...

...

“You’re awake.”

...

...

...

“Squeezing your eyes shut will not change the fact that I know you are awake.”

Are they talking to me?

“Yes, I am talking to you.”

Shit.

“Very elegant.”

I’m fucking alive?!

“Indeed, you are.”

You peeled your eyes open and blinked against the light above you. The room was dark, with dark-grained wood on the ceiling and walls, and little light save from the gaudy chandelier above you and a tiny window letting in a minuscule amount of light which seemed to dissipate by the time it reached one foot from the source.  

Your neck cracked loudly as you turned your head to the voice, and you swore you felt your heart fall out of your feet.

“You can’t be serious?” You rasped disbelievingly. 

“Close, but no.” The man smirked as he stood and moved toward the table you were lying on. “The name is Regulus. Regulus Arcturus Black.”

You felt your heart rate pick up as you stared at the face of a man who held an uncanny similarity to your boyfriend. 

“I don’t suppose you happen to know occlumency, do you?”

You shook your head; unsure you could voice anything more than a horrified whimper.

“Shame. Well, for your sake, I hope you are a quick learner.” 

And he stupefied you. 

(Present)

“Kreacher, what have you done?” You spat angrily, twisting your arm in his grasp. He appeared wholly unimpressed with the situation and less than inclined to respond to you.

“Let go.” You muttered as you tried to tear your arm from the house-elf. For looking so small, thin, and well, decrepit, he was surprisingly strong. You considered pulling your wand when someone spoke.

“Release her.”

Your head shot up at the sound. You were met with a scarily familiar smirk that left you feeling weightless.

The elf obeyed, though you wish he hadn’t as you suddenly felt weak in the knees. 

“Welcome back, Y/N.” He smirked as he stood from his perch on the edge of an ornate desk. “Ready to finish this?” 

Continue to part six here.

[in-my-feels-probably]

Getting drunk with sirius and seeing who can go the longest without touching the other

Feeling

Request: Getting drunk with sirius and seeing who can go the longest without touching the other

Hi! I love this request, it’s such a cute idea. Thank you for sending it in. Sorry it’s a little short. I hope you enjoy it!

(Warnings: swearing, underage drinking, let me know if i missed anything)

—

“Merlin, get a room, you two!” James groaned, scrunching his nose up at the sight of you and Sirius. 

His voice was drowned out by the sound of your friends laughing as you covered your face. Your cheeks were burning, although that probably had more to do with the firewhiskey in your cup than the embarrassment from having all your friends snicker at you. Your friends were starting to feel the effects of the firewhiskey too, in a giggly haze. You were sitting on top of Sirius’s lap, his cheeks pink and his eyes glazed. His arms were secure tight around your waist, his cheek leaning against your arm. 

“Piss off,” Sirius laughed, looking up at you with a smile as he ran his finger under the hem of your shirt to trace his fingers along the base of your spine. “You’re just jealous. I’ve got the prettiest girl in the room.”

Lily, Marlene, and Mary feigned offense, though they didn’t take it personally. You did, however, slapping his shoulder. 

“Be nice! Don't say things that aren’t true so loudly.”

Sirius nuzzled into your side, gazing up at you with genuine adoration. “It’s true to me, my dear.”

Your eyes softened at his words, bringing a hand up to cup his cheek. The girls cooed, making a fuss over the pair of you. The boys weren’t as easily impressed, however, groaning at the sight of their friend so love struck. 

“You’re ruining the game,” James whined, gesturing to your friends. “Pay attention, Pads. It’s your turn next.”

Remus chuckled, shaking his head. “Good luck getting him to pay attention long enough to take it.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Sirius challenged, raising a brow. 

“It means,” Remus said, leaning in with a smirk on his face. “That you two can’t keep your hands off each other for longer than a minute, let alone long enough to sit through the entire game.”

“That’s not true!”

“Isn’t it?” Lily grinned, gesturing to his arms secured around your waist. 

Sirius looked down at his hands, before looking up at you apprehensively. You smiled down at him, pressing a quick kiss to the top of his head. He groaned, lessening his hold. 

“You do make it hard, darling,” he said, releasing you. “But I will not be accosted by these two dickheads. What do you say? Can we make it the whole game?”

You grinned, promptly standing up from his lap. You placed yourself snug in between James and Remus, cooing when Sirius’s face turned into a pout.

“Don’t sulk, love. It is only temporary,” you said, smirking when your friends watched you with curious eyes. “I’ve got a game of my own.”

“Go on,” Sirius mused, already feeling himself wanting to reach for you. 

“We’ll beat their little game, that’s for sure. You lot can piss off if you think we’ll break that quickly.”

“We’ll see,” Remus said into his cup, taking a swig of his firewhiskey. “Five galleons on you losing, though. What’s your game, then?”

You set your hazy eyes on Sirius, feeling yourself warm as he looked back at you. It should be illegal for a man to look that pretty. It almost made you want to take back your proposition. But if there was going to be a game, it would be a game of your design. 

And you’d win.

“We’ll refrain from touching each other for the rest of the game. And after, we’ll see which of the two of us cracks first. Whoever caves and touches the other first is the loser.”

“Is there a consequence for losing? Anything at risk?” Sirius asked with eyes full of curiosity.

“Only your pride.” 

Your words made his grin widen, and he nodded, accepting your challenge. “You’re on, darling. I hope you’re prepared to lose.”

“In your dreams, Black.”

Mary grinned, clapping her hands together. “Alright! Let’s keep playing.”

—

You and Sirius worked together, successfully winning the bet your friends held against each other, much to their displeasure.

Amongst the sour faces, James was still grinning. “We may have lost our game, but one of them will lose theirs. I say Sirius caves first.”

“What? Why?” Sirius asked, whining. 

You laughed, patting James on the shoulder. “Thank you, James. It’s good to know someone believes in me.”

Marlene and Mary nodded, agreeing with James. But Lily shook her head, looking at you with uncertainty. Remus had the same look on his face. 

“You don’t think I can do it?” You asked, your question directed at Lily.

“I don’t think either of you can do it, but especially not you. You’re both ridiculously stubborn, but I think it’ll be you who caves first. You subconsciously reach for him after a while, it probably won’t even be an outright decision. You love him too much to hold out.” 

Remus nodded, agreeing. “All you gotta do is pay attention, Sirius. And do pay attention. I’m putting five galleons on you.” 

“I’ll take that bet. Five galleons on Y/N,” James grinned, holding his hand out for Remus to shake. 

They shook on it, and you rolled your eyes. Your friends had little faith in you. If they were getting money out of this, then you had to get something out of it, too. It’s not as if it would negatively affect Sirius. He had enough money that it wouldn’t matter how much he gave up. The only thing he’d be losing is his pride. And that seemed like a very fair price. 

“I think we should put money on it, Sirius. Whoever loses owes the other something from Hogsmeade the next time we go.”

Sirius had already begun wanting to give up the game entirely. He wanted you back in his lap, with his arms around your waist. But your friends were watching, and he wouldn’t give them the satisfaction of seeing him break. 

He nodded, leaning back into the couch cushions. “You’re on, darling. Prepare to lose.”

Marlene looked between the two of you, nearly rolling her eyes. “You both talk a big game. Let’s play another round and see how it goes, yeah?”

You nodded, and everyone continued on, getting progressively tipsier. 

—

You had all had your fill, and by end of the second round, the girls were beginning to yawn. Lily rubbed her eyes, standing up from where she was sitting. 

“Alright, I’m off to bed. You’ll have to let me know who won tomorrow. Goodnight,” she said, waving to everyone as she began climbing the stairs to her dorm. 

Mary nodded, reaching for Marlene as she stood. “Us too, darling. I don’t fancy falling asleep on this couch for all the first years to see us in the morning.”

“Me either,” Remus said, clapping Sirius on the shoulder before standing up too. “Good luck, mate.”

James scoffed, standing up and clapping you on the shoulder as well. “You all have no faith. Good luck, Y/N. I better be five galleons richer in the morning.”

You saluted him, letting him pass you to go up the stairs. “Yes sir. I’ll do my best.”

“Attagirl,” he called down the steps, before you heard the sound of a door closing. 

When they were all gone, you turned to Sirius. He was looking at you with hazy eyes, a grin plastered on his face. Like it was second nature, you scooted closer to him, wanting to be as close as you could be without actually touching him.

He groaned when he noticed, dramatically scooting away. “Stop it! You’re not going to win.”

“Might as well give it up now. You know you’re going to cave first.”

Sirius pouted, and you smiled, watching him intently. He looked tired. You grabbed the pillow next to you, tossing it into his lap. You laid back, letting your head rest against it.

He tensed up, raising his hands. “Is this not cheating?”

“It may be,” you smiled up at him. “But I’m not touching you, and you’re not touching me.”

“Feels like cheating.”

You groaned, sitting up. “It was a joke, darling. The pillow is for you, you look tired. Lay down.”

He grinned, tossing the pillow into your lap and laying his head down. You tried to hide your smile, letting him settle himself. Once he stilled, he looked up at you with unsure eyes. 

“What is it, love?” You asked, making him sigh. 

“This is remarkably less fun without your hand in my hair.”

You let out a laugh, nodding. “I agree. Should we do something about that?”

He said nothing, only gazing up at you. You took this time to look at him, really look at him. He was fucking stunning. So pretty, it actually hurt to look at him. And he was looking up at you with hazy eyes and pink cheeks, so adorable that you felt like you could burst into tears just looking at him. You were seconds away from caving, when he drew you from your thoughts.

It was his turn to ask now. “What is it?”

You sighed, hovering a finger just over the tip of his nose. “You’re beautiful, do you know that? So beautiful.” 

Sirius flushed a deeper pink, stilling as you ran your finger mere centimeters above his features. You traced them in the air, starting with his nose before moving to his eyes. Then over his cheekbones, and down to his chin. As you skimmed over his lips, Sirius let out a breath you didn’t know he was holding. 

“Don’t make a fuss,” he said, raising a hand. “Just let me do this.”

Gently, he took hold of your hand, pressing your finger down to meet his cheek. He sighed in relief, and you smiled, beginning to caress his face in the way you were desperate to just moments ago. You ran your thumb along his cheek, feeling his skin under your touch. Sirius reached for your free hand with his, intertwining your fingers.

“I’m so glad you did that,” you muttered as he held your hand.

“Why?”

“Because if you hadn’t broken first, I was seconds away from doing it myself,” you mused, moving your fingers from his face into his hair. “It’s a bit pathetic that we can't go more than a few hours without touching each other.”

“I don’t think so,” he said, closing his eyes as you began running your fingers through his hair. 

“No?”

“No. I love you, why shouldn’t I show it?”

You smiled, bending down to press a kiss into his hair. “I love you…even though you lost.”

“Fuck off,” Sirius laughed, reaching up to grab you by the shoulders, pulling you down into him. 

You laughed along with him, shifting down so that you were both laying down on the couch. You wrapped your arms tightly around his waist, pressing your face into his chest. He wrapped his arms around your shoulders, laying his cheek on top of your head. You relished in his touch, pressing yourself closer to him. 

“I vote we don’t fess up in the morning. I don’t want to give any of them the satisfaction. When they ask, we’ll call it a tie. Agreed?”

“You’d give up your bragging rights?” He asked, laughing when you slapped his arm. “Agreed, darling. Agreed.”

You leaned up to press a kiss into his shoulder, before settling back into his chest. “But I won…you’ll remember that, won’t you? You owe me something from Hogsmeade.”

You couldn’t see his smile, but you could hear it as he clutched you tighter to him. He stifled a laugh, feeling himself ease with you back in his arms. 

“Yes, my love. I’ll remember it.”

—

A/N - Hi! I hope you enjoyed it. Let me know what you think!