#james's massive pyjamas

[lulublack90]

Prompt 13 - Free

@jegulus-microfic August 13, Word count 753

Previous part First Wolfstar part

Dinner was pleasant. Regulus enjoyed the novelty of a full dining service as opposed to the mismatched, somewhat tattered bowls and cups the wolves used and the battered pewter plate his food was served to him on in the dungeons when they’d remembered he needed feeding. It felt almost ridiculous just the two of them sitting at that huge dining table. He savoured every bite, it had been so long since he had food of this calibre. 

Regulus was struggling to keep his eyes open once the meal was over. He wanted nothing more than to curl up somewhere soft and warm.  

“We can stay here if you like, instead of going back to the camp,” James offered as if he'd read Regulus's mind. Regulus was honestly so full of good food he didn’t want to move, so he agreed. James led him up the stairs to the bedrooms. “Here you can have this one,” He said after poking his head around the door to make sure it was set up. “That’s mine over there. If you need anything, just come in and wake me up, or you can call for Flitsy, and she’ll help you. Oh, just a second,” James darted into his room and came back with a set of pyjamas that were definitely too big for Regulus. “You’ll drown in them, but the drawstring should help. We can get some in your size if you stay again.” He said as he pushed the clothes into Regulus’s hands. 

“I’m sure I’ll manage, thank you,” He stood there awkwardly, unsure what to do now. 

“Well, good night,” James darted in and kissed his cheek before hurrying into his room. Regulus sighed and went to check out his room. 

It was big, that was the first thing he noticed, big and open, with a huge four-poster bed, a wardrobe, a chest of drawers and a shelf dotted with a few books. He went over to the bed and put his pyjamas down. He noticed a door and hoped it was a bathroom as he’d neglected to ask where one was before James had gone into his room. He pushed the door open and found a full bathroom. He eyed up the shower and decided a quick wash before bed couldn’t hurt. He stripped off his clothes and got in. 

The water was deliciously warm. The lavender-scented soap helped wash away the grime he hadn’t been able to fully remove after being rescued from Lestrange Castle. He lathered his hair with the matching shampoo and watched the murky suds wash down the plughole. He finished with the conditioner, and he couldn’t help but run his fingers through the soft locks, free from the tangles that had plagued him for months. 

He grabbed the thick fluffy towel and wrapped it around himself. His clothes were gone. He wasn’t too concerned. He guessed that Flitsy had collected them to wash. He padded back into the bedroom and put the pyjamas on. They were huge on his slight body, but they were soft and smelled faintly of James, so he got under the covers and settled down to sleep. 

He woke suddenly in the dark, his heart was racing as flashes of images played behind his eyes of dark rooms and Voldemort’s wand pointed at his face outside that cursed cave. It felt so open here, there wasn’t anywhere to hide. A tree’s branches were creaking somewhere near his window and he couldn’t help but imagine that Voldemort’s forces had found him and come to take him back to his old master. The sound of a fox screaming from the edge of the garden was the final straw. He jumped up and raced into James’s room. 

“James?” He whispered nervously. He felt so stupid coming to him because of a damn nightmare, but James just rolled over and blinked at him with sleep-filled eyes before opening his arms wide to him. 

“Come on, love,” That was all he needed. Regulus launched himself at the bed, curling up into a tight ball against James. “Mmmm you smell good,” James yawned, burring his face in Regulus’s slightly damp hair and wrapping his arms tightly around him. Regulus felt his heartbeat steadying and snuggled further into James’s chest as sleep began to take over him again. “Don’t worry, love, you’re safe. I’ve got you.” James murmured as he too fell back to sleep. And Regulus believed him. For the first time in a very long time, he felt completely safe.  

Next part

[yasministration]

Twelve hours - platonic!marauders, james potter

summary: sometimes having observant friends is unfortunate, but now when they've been blind for so long... wc: 0.9k+

When James, Remus and Sirius trudged up to your, Lily and Marlene’s dorm to remind you of your Hogsmeade plans in an hour, they had every intention of knocking on the door. However, when Sirius heard your screeching laughs through the door, he pushed the door open without second thought.

The view the three boys were met with immediately confused them. You were sat on the floor at the floor of your bed, still in your pyjamas, legs bent on the floor, but you were knelt forward as you laughed, clutching your sides. Lily was leaning against her bed, crying tears of laughter whilst Marlene had her gaze stuck on you, pointing a finger at your figure while she laughed.

“It’s not funny,” You cried, though your words contradicted your actions. You reached your hands up towards Marlene, begging “Help me up!” Marlene reached out to help you before she burst into another fit of giggles, leaving you sat hopelessly on the ground.

Remus, ever the protective friend, pushed past his two friends to offer you his hands. Your eyes went wide as you noticed his and the other boys’ presence, but you gratefully took his hands nonetheless.

You winced as you pushed yourself off the ground, a pained noise escaping your chest as you finally balanced yourself on your feet. “Thanks.” You muttered, smiling awkwardly at the three boys now stood in your dorm, before happily sitting down on your bed again. “And we’re back to zero.” Lily wheezed, wiping her tears away.

You chucked a pillow at the red head, who easily dodged it and a silence settled on the three of you as you took in the male presence in the dormitory. “May I ask what’s going on?” Asked Sirius, a confused look on his face, eyebrows deeply furrowed.

“No.”

The simple response was all it took for Marlene and Lily to resume their fits of laughter, but this time you just rolled your eyes at them. “Oh, please tell them!” Pleaded Marlene as she sat down on the bed facing you. “It’s embarrassing!” “It’s a flex.” Retorted Lily. You huffed.

“It’s nothing. My legs just didn’t seem ready to carry me out of bed this morning.” “Morning?” Remus scoffed, glancing at the clock. “It’s barely morning.”

“It’s because the guy she slept with had a massive dick.” “Marlene!” James let out a loud gasp from where he stood in the doorway, previously silent. Your eyes trailed over to him, feeling your face flush hotly. The eye contact between you was intense, but you broke it, shying away from his intimidating gaze.

“I wasn’t prepared! I’m fine.” You huffed stubbornly, proving your point as you stood up. You swallowed thickly, grabbing the outfit you’d chosen from your bed and stiffly walking over to the bathroom. You heard Marlene cackle, mumbling something about ‘look at her’, and sharply turned to face the group of friends. “I said I’m fine — doesn’t mean I’m not sore!” You yelled at her, before your eyes flickered back to the boy in the doorway.

Unfortunately for you, Remus caught the movement. So did Lily. The girl hummed attentively, her face becoming solemn. Fuck, your friends were too observant. “Who did you say the guy was, again?” Asked Remus. Freezing in place, you felt your ears grow warm. “She didn’t. That’s what me and Marlene were trying to find out.”

“Guys, I feel like I’m missing something.” Sirius muttered. Lily and Remus both sharply turned to look at James, who gulped animatedly, taking a step back. You saw Remus’s eyes squint in suspicious, and the boy in front of him immediately got defensive, opening and closing his mouth before deciding not to stay anything.

Sirius gasped loudly. “James is the guy with the massive dick!?” Marlene screamed at Sirius’s remark in horror, a hand slapping over her mouth as she turned to look at James, whose hands came down to hide his crotch area, which was definitely drawing the attention of the friend group. “Well, you know, we already knew James had a massive cock, but we didn’t he was your-” Sirius cut himself off, pursing his lips.

“So how long has this been going on?” Lily asked, arms crossed over her chest as she looked at you accusingly. “Last night?”

An uncomfortable silence settled amongst you, in which your four friends stood with their mouths agape. Suddenly, Marlene burst out laughing again. “Shit, you shouldn’t even hide it for twelve hours!” “Get out, Marlene!” You screeched, pointing to the door. “Everyone get out!” The five of them stood all at once, making their way out of the door and you sighed, calling out “Not you, James!”

The boy slowly walked back into the room, slamming the door shut behind him before he trotted over to you quickly. “I’m sorry, I didn’t realise I went that-” “It’s fine. At least they bought the ‘last night’ thing, right?”

James chuckled, his nervous front falling apart as he regained comfort. He tugged at the large shirt of his you wore, nodding in agreement. “Imagine if they were told about the two months.” You shuddered theatrically, smiling at him. “Yeah, let’s save that for when we’re wasted.”

“I’m guessing you’re not coming to Hogsmeade? Mhm, I’ll stay with you then."

“Oh yeah, ‘cause that won’t be suspicious at all.”

“We’ll tell them we decided to talk things out.”

You nodded slowly, processing the information. “I’ll meet you in bed then?”

taglist: @ravisinghs-wife, @amatoanima, @starry-remus, @pain-in-the-ashe, @hiireadstuff, @superlegend216, @treefairy-28, @kitkatkl, @rory-cakes, @juliet-017, @boromoony

[chxrryhxrt]

Draw stars around my scars, part 1 - Remus Lupin x Female Reader

Read part 2 here!

Synopsis: Many weeks had passed since the most recent full moon, yet James and Sirius still won’t let you see Remus. What could they be hiding?

Warnings: angst, swearing, mentions of blood and injuries

It’s Sunday, four days since the full moon. Sirius and James were still adamant that you could not visit Remus, claiming various things such as, “They gave him the wrong medicine and now his head’s twice its usual size” or that “If you step even one foot into the hospital wing, you’ll catch the most recent strand of wizards’ flu – and that stuff is deadly!”

At first, you were sure that they had Remus’ best interests at heart when they were spouting this nonsense at you, but in all honesty, you were beginning to doubt it. You had always visited him after previous full moons – hell, you had even helped carry him to the hospital wing after some particularly bad nights, so why could you not see him now?

This line of thought is how you found yourself padding along the hallways under the thick cover of night, moonlight pouring through the vast windows that stretched from floor to ceiling, where chandeliers hung down. Paintings lined the walls too, and you could hear murmurs of their complaints behind you as you carried on walking, your wand serving to illuminate your path.

You rounded the final corner to the hospital wing, tentatively approaching the entrance as a shiver ran its way up your spine – you were beginning to wish you had worn a little more than just your pyjamas and cloak, a pair of shoes probably would have made the journey less chilling, but you left in such a rush to see Remus that you had not even considered that.

Lifting your wand up, you held it steadily in front of the lock and whispered, “Alohomora.”

After hearing the tell-tale clink of the door unlocking, you stepped forwards, wrapping your hand around the doorknob, but your thoughts stopped you for a moment. Normally, breaking into the infirmary would be something you frowned down upon and if Madame Pomfrey caught you, or if anyone caught you for that matter, there would undoubtedly be consequences, even if you were just trying to check that Remus was okay. You weighed out the pros and cons, fingers still gripping the handle, before making your decision. You missed Remus and seeing him was worth any punishment you could be given. And so, you twisted your wrist, wincing as the doorknob whined.

Following a slight struggle, you resorted to shoving the door open with the brute force of your shoulder, which you found made the entire ordeal a lot easier, but also a whole lot louder. You finally stumbled into the infirmary, the scraping sound ceasing as the door slowly clicked back shut behind you.

Your eyes flitted around, taking in the numerous empty beds and lit sconces that brightened the room, the shadows of the flames flickering and dancing across the walls. As you wove between the rows of beds you noticed that none of the students were first years, let alone suffering from the black plague, like Sirius had told you – though it was not as if you would believe him, he was an absolutely terrible liar.

Once you had finally reached the far end of the hospital wing, you located Remus’ bed, which was not a massive feat. The curtains were drawn around it, obscuring your view so that all you could see was his silhouette, curled into itself as he laid there.

You assumed that he was sleeping and turned to leave him alone to rest, but before you snuck back out again, you heard his sheets rustling and a particularly pained groan slipped out from his throat.

Concerned, you shuffled back towards the curtains, reaching forward and carefully pulling them back, trying to create as little noise as possible.

As you revealed him, even under the dim lighting, you took notice of the many bandages wrapped around his head; more than were usually there and you frowned, it must have been another bad full moon, the first one in a while.

“Remus?” you questioned, eyebrows knitting together in slight worry when he did not respond. “Remus, are you alright?”

“No.”

You wanted to kick yourself for that one – he had just been locked away in the Shrieking Shack to deal with a full moon alone, what sort of answer were you expecting?

“Well,” you replied cautiously, picking up the copy of The Daily Prophet that laid atop his bedside table and unfolding the pages to reveal today’s headline, “How would you feel if I read you the paper? It says there’s more information on the national goblin strikes – I remember you mentioned being interested in that, Rem.”

“Already read that one,” he grumbled, rolling over so that his back was facing you.

“Okay, how about,” you offered, wandering around to the foot of his bed, taking a seat on it, springs squeaking as you got comfortable, “once you get better and the strikes stop, we can go down to Gringotts, get some money out, and then we can buy some new books together.”

In response to this, Remus said nothing, but instead buried his head further into his pillow, hardly even acknowledging you.

“Remus please, just speak to me alright? I’m here for you,” you pleaded him, your eyes lighting up slightly as he began to sit up, looking at you for the first time since you had arrived. This close, you could really see how torn up he was, with fresh scratches across his face, crossing over the faded scars of older wounds, almost looking like reflections of each other. He still had some blood on his skin around his cuts, though it was dried now, and you assumed that the nurses had not been able to clean it off without worsening his pain.

He seemed to notice your eyes roving across his face and body because he began to pull down the sleeves of his sweater, covering his forearms as an almost ashamed look took over his features.

“Please just leave me alone,” he pleaded, his eyes shut, and brows knitted together – a melancholic sight, and you wished you knew how to help him.

“Rem…” you whispered, leaning in to him, your arm lifting up to cradle his face, “you don’t have to talk to me yet, okay?” Your palm was on his cheek now, you could feel the ridges of his scars under your fingers, the heat of his skin warming yours up, the left-over blood sticking you to him – like some sort of blood bond, you thought, a small smile raising the corners of your lips.

You stayed like this for a moment, a peaceful moment, before you brought your other hand up to rest against the column of his throat, atop the layer of bandages wrapped around his neck and you could feel the steady thrum of his heartbeat beneath your fingertips.

“I love you, Remus,” you mumbled, as if it were a promise, something to be shared between you two and no one else, a secret.

You found yourself tipping your head forward, foreheads kissing as your palms held his face, his skin feeling damp… with tears? You pulled back and his soft brown eyes stared into yours, unblinking, something changing behind them as he grabbed your wrists and yanked them away from his cheeks, holding them tightly in front of him.

“I told you-” he spat, roughly shoving your hands away- “just piss off.”

Read part 2 here!

[inkdrinkerworld]

Remmy and sensitive!reader who misheard him talking with James and Sirius about something/someone and mistakes it as them talking bad about them. Reader avoiding Remmy for days, avoiding his touch and barely talking to him until he has enough and confronts reader who just breaks down into tears instantly

“No I know mate! It’s so fucking annoying!” You hear the words tumble out of Remus’ mouth with full frustration and freeze in the doorway.

He could be talking about anyone. Right?

James pipes up next, “There’s no way they don’t know they’re fucking annoying.”

Maybe it is you.

“Doesn’t seem like it. They’re just always there. Sometimes some breathing room would be nice.”

You’re convinced now by Remus’ words that it’s you they’re talking about and the frog in your throat swells and tightens your vocal cords.

Silently, you wipe the tears running down your cheeks and make your way to the bathroom.

Remus knows you’re home ten minutes after his phone call when he smells your peach body wash wafting through the bedroom.

“Hi dovey,” his words saccharine as he holds his arms open to you.

“Hi,” you don’t walk into his arms, instead brushing the curve of his shoulder as you go to your closet for your pyjamas.

“Something wrong?” He leans back on his palms, worrying his bottom lip as he watches you change in the closet.

You wonder for a moment how he could’ve been so cruel and now pretend like he wasn’t just complaining to James about how much you’re around him.

“Uh uh,” Remus’ alarms are going off and he stands up, walking over to you now that you’re dressed.

“Dove,” he murmurs, hands holding your thighs. “Are you upset with me? Have I done something wrong?”

Has he done something wrong? The nerve of him- and still you can’t find it in yourself to do much else than tear up.

“No,” your breathing is quickly becoming labored and Remus worries that you might make yourself faint.

“Talk to me, baby.” It’s the baby that does you in, all soft and honeyed and sugary sweet when his words earlier had been so harsh and jagged.

“You told James that it was annoying that I’m always in your space.”

“What?” His heart stops, mind whirring at the impossibility of your words.

Sniffling you carry on, “I heard you when I came in-“

“Baby, no-“ you cut him off.

“It’s okay to want your own space, sorry for crowding you before.”

God Remus could cry at how small you sound.

“We weren’t talking about you baby, you have to believe that.” His massive hands are cupping your cheeks robe, keeping your eyes level with his.

“You don’t have to lie, Rem,” Your tears are still tumbling down, nose running while you hold your breath. You have a strange feeling this is going to head into, ‘we should break up’ territory.

“I’m not lying, sweet girl. You can call James now if you think so, but I swear we were talking about Frank and his newest fling’s inability to not be all up in each other’s space every five seconds.”

You blink, “So you don’t want us to break up? You aren’t annoyed with me? Because if you are,” you take a shuddering breath. “I can take it.”

Remus tuts, “There’s not a possible timeline where I’d be breaking up with you. Baby, I swear on everything holy and sacred that I wouldn’t ever think let alone speak about you that way. We really were talking about Frank.”

You sigh, tension releasing from your muscles. “M’sorry,” you whimper, shutting your eyes as Remus stamps soft, sticky kisses to your face.

“Nothing to be sorry for, my love.” Remus kisses your forehead and then your lips. “I love you more than life itself, dove. Not a fucking thing I wouldn’t do for you, yeah? Best thing I ever had.”

Remus spends the rest of the night kissing and holding you, he even calls James up to reassure you that he’d never speak about you like that.

James is aghast you even wonder and promise you that if Remus ever lost his mind like that he’d kick his ass.

[a-lilypad]

@jegulus-microfic | march 31: body hair | 876 words

regulus calls the fire station when a strange burn mark appears in his house and fireman james comes to investigate (cw: mentions of sex and someone nearly gets set on fire but doesn't get hurt)

Barty is laughing. Regulus is in the middle of a crisis and Barty has the nerve to laugh at him. He knows he must look ridiculous, pulling at his plaid pyjama bottoms, zipping and unzipping his ratty hoodie, and adjusting his hair using every reflective surface in his house, but how was he meant to know the local firemen had become hot? 

He’d called the fire station earlier in the day after finding a mysterious hole burned into his downstairs carpet. Stumbling downstairs in a desperate search for coffee at 7 am he’d spotted it from the corner of his eye. It was quite small and in an odd place, just in front of a cupboard he barely used, and it looked almost as if some acid had corroded his floor.

Regulus had hounded Barty, his best friend and current roommate, but Barty swore it wasn’t him. Though he didn’t quite believe him, it was too big to be a cigarette burn which did, annoyingly, put the blame on something else.

However, what that something is he still has no clue, and it’s been driving him a bit insane. He had sat in front of the hole cradling his massive mug of coffee with his chin resting on his knees just..glaring at it. For hours, until he’d been dragged away from it and forced onto the sofa instead.

The fire brigade had taken forever to get there, he’d thought they’d forgotten him and was about to phone them again (third time’s a charm) when the doorbell echoed and he jumped up, tripping over his feet in the rush to get to the door while flipping Barty off for laughing at his urgency. 

He’d yanked the door open, flushed and breathing heavier than normal and proceeded to immediately choke on his words because the man standing in his doorway was the fittest person he had ever had the pleasure of seeing.

Messy brown hair, big hazel eyes framed by gold wire, and soft rosy lips. His brain short-circuited and all he could think of was what those lips would look like wrapped around him. He was screwed.

Now the hot fireman (James, he’d learned), is on his hands and knees inspecting the floor, and Regulus is lost for words. He’s pretty sure he’s drooling actually. His arse….dear lord. You could end world hunger with it. Regulus wants nothing more than to dig his teeth into it. Maybe take a chunk out of it and bring it with him wherever he goes as a reminder that the world is a beautiful and wonderful place.

James chooses that exact moment to sit up and take off his jacket, revealing the sluttiest shirt he’s ever seen. This uniform should be fucking illegal. It’s so tight that Regulus can see every single curve, every dimple, every line of the man’s body, it barely fits him, he is bursting out of it, the material squeezing the top of his arms. He wonders how the seams haven't burst yet.

His arms. Wow.

They’re huge and covered in black ink, two full sleeves of intricate patterns and whenever he moves they flex, golden brown skin glinting in the light. He’s definitely drooling now. Barty has to lean over and shut his mouth for him. 

“So, James is it?” Barty says, smirking, and Regulus has never turned his head so fast, glaring at his soon-to-be ex-best friend, right eye twitching. He wouldn’t fucking dare…oh who was he kidding of course he would, he lives to make Regulus’ life a living hell. He should have kicked Barty out the minute James got here.

James hums in affirmation as he goes back to probing the hole in the carpet. Regulus wishes that was him. 

He can see Barty’s smug smile and his eyes twinkling and starts slowly approaching, moving into hitting distance. “You got a girlfriend? Or a boyfriend of course, there’s just no way a hot guy like you is singl-ow fuck!” he breaks off as Regulus elbows him sharply in the side while hissing at him to shut up.

James turns around with a cocked eyebrow, smiling, and lets out a chuckle, “Nope, no girlfriend,” then looks straight at Regulus, gazing deep into his soul as if he’s searching for something, “or boyfriend,” and he winks. HE WINKS. Regulus cannot handle this man he feels a bit faint.

As he flops down on the sofa he sees James stretching, his arms reaching above his head looking like some form of God, his shirt lifting and revealing a strip of soft skin and a line of thick black hair leading down and down and down…his eyes follow it, he’s unable to look away. Regulus loves a guy with body hair, but happy trails have always sent him crazy.

He picks up a pillow and holds it over his crotch hoping he’s being subtle, but by Barty’s sudden cackle, he guesses not so much. Although he doesn’t have to worry about it for long as James goes back to poking around, chuckling a bit under his breath until a huge fucking white spark bursts from his floor effectively stopping the laughter but also setting his carpet on fire.

Huh. That’s probably not a good sign.

[moons-and-mobility-aids]

Blood Blister

Pairings: Poly!marauders x disabled!reader Summary: A new mark on your body sparks quiet concern, but your boys are always ready to turn worry into care. Tags: fem!reader, disabled!reader, no use of y/n, depictions of chronic pain, mobility issues, reader cataloguing injuries, blood blister incident, hurt/comfort, fluff, soft!marauders, remus being observant and gentle, sirius being unexpectedly tender, james being steady and warm, established relationship, reader dealing with body betrayal, unconditional support from the boys, soft domestic intimacy, everyday disability realism, gentle caregiving, quiet moments of love and reassurance Word count: 1.1k words. Meant To Be Masterlist

You're perched on the edge of your bed, barely registering the low hum of conversation as the boys move about the room. Sirius and James are debating something heatedly—Quidditch tactics, no doubt—while Remus stands by the window, book in hand. The snowfall outside is deceptively gentle, but you know better than to join them later for a snowball fight. Winter here is a cruel mistress, her icy breath biting at exposed skin, leaving it red and raw.

Your eyes drift down to your feet, more out of habit than anything else, tracing over any new bruises or swelling that might have formed overnight. It's part of your routine now, cataloguing each fresh mark, each subtle change in your body's landscape. The usual suspects are there—the faint purple of sensitivity around your toes—but something else catches your attention.

"Huh," you murmur under your breath.

Half of your left foot's sole is taken up by a blood blister, dark and swollen. It's massive—bigger than any you've had before—and you tilt your foot this way and that, observing the oddity with a detached sense of curiosity. You didn't feel it forming, but then again, that's not entirely surprising. Your body has a way of springing surprises on you, new and unwelcome additions to an already long list of complaints. It's almost amusing how blasé you've become about these little revelations.

"Everything all right?" Remus's voice is soft, a balm to the sharp edges of your discomfort. He's been watching you, an observant shadow at the edge of your awareness. Now, his presence asserts itself as he moves closer, drawn by the shift in your focus.

"Just another souvenir," you say, grimacing slightly as you point to the blood blister forming on the sole of your foot. "This one's new though—a blood blister, and this size... it's a first."

The squabble between Sirius and James fades into the background; even they can't ignore the gravity tugging their attention your way. Sirius is there almost before you notice, crouching beside you, his grey eyes studying the blister as though it's a riddle written in flesh and blood. "Merlin, how did that happen?"

"Who knows?" You shrug, not overly concerned despite the strangeness of it. "Maybe from sitting too much, or my body just fancied a change."

James is next to join, folding himself onto the floor with a grace that belies his height. His brow furrows under messy black hair, concern etching lines around his mouth. "Does it hurt?"

"Not really." You lean back on your hands, considering the unwelcome addition to your collection of injuries. "It's just... there. Another thing to deal with."

Remus's hand rests gently on your knee, thumb moving in soothing circles over the fabric of your pyjama bottoms. "Do you want us to do anything about it?" His voice is smooth and steady, as though he's asking after a preference for tea rather than discussing the handling of an unsettling blood blister.

You shake your head slightly, eyes never leaving the discoloured patch of skin. "No, it's fine. I'll monitor it and see if it gets worse or goes away."

Sirius's fingers cradle your foot with unexpected delicacy, turning it this way and that as though a different angle might reveal some hidden truth. "Still, that's quite impressive," he murmurs, the corners of his mouth twitching towards a smirk. "You've managed to surprise us again."

A soft laugh escapes your lips, more from the absurdity of the situation than any real amusement. “My body’s good at keeping me on my toes. Well, if I could stand on them.”

James chuckles, his hand cradling your other foot, thumb tracing slow circles on the arch of your sole. His touch is warm, a balm that soothes even as it acknowledges the reality of your condition. "You always seem to find the humour in these situations, don't you? If I had to deal with something like this..."

"Trust me, freaking out lost its appeal a long time ago," you say, trying for nonchalance. "Besides, what good would it do?"

Remus's laughter is a soft exhale, a shared understanding passing between you. He presses a kiss to your temple, the gesture both comforting and familiar. "We'll take care of you, no matter what happens with your body. You know that, right?"

You nod, because of course you do. They've been here through it all—every unexpected flare-up, every new symptom, every moment of disappointment when your body betrays you again. Their support has never wavered, their care never conditional. If anything, each new hurdle only seems to strengthen their resolve.

James' hand shifts down to your ankle, his touch firm yet gentle. "Do you want me to fetch something from Madam Pomfrey for that? Or perhaps an ointment?"

"No." You shake your head, a bit too quickly. "I'll leave it be for now. If it worsens, I'll attend to it then."

Sirius presses a kiss to the top of your foot before setting it back onto the bed, his eyes never leaving yours. "You really need to stop having these peculiar health problems, love. It's hard keeping up." His words hold a teasing lilt, but the slight furrow between his brows betrays his genuine worry.

A small smile tugs at your lips as you tap the bracelet around your wrist, feeling the familiar warmth emanate from each charm. "I can't promise that, Sirius. My body has a mind of its own. But it does keep life interesting, doesn't it?"

As if on cue, James gives your ankle a reassuring squeeze and Remus' hand returns to your shoulder, a silent strength. Sirius grins, still kneeling by your side, his gaze softening with affection. The warmth in his eyes mirrors that of the charms against your skin—a tangible reminder of their unwavering support.

"And that's certainly one way to put it, sweetheart," James replies, the warmth in his eyes hinting at a smile beneath his serious exterior.

You settle back against Remus, feeling the steady rise and fall of his chest against your back. His arms tighten around you, a silent promise of protection. The blood blister, this strange new mystery, is just another puzzle piece in the grand scheme of things. Another challenge to face head-on.

But with each passing moment, you feel more certain that you can handle it—especially with them by your side.

[chxrryhxrtreplies]

I managed to lose the request for this fic so hopefully the person that requested it ends up seeing this! This will be a two part story and I’m going to get started on part two tomorrow <3

Draw stars around my scars - Remus Lupin x Female Reader 

Synopsis: It is a few days after a full moon, a bad one. You haven’t seen Remus since and you are beginning to get worried, so you sneak into the infirmary. How will Remus react to your surprise visit?

Warnings: Angst, swearing, mentions of blood and injuries.

1.2k words

It’s Sunday, four days since the full moon. Sirius and James were still adamant that you could not visit Remus, claiming various things such as, “They gave him the wrong medicine and now his head’s twice its usual size” or that “If you step even one foot into the hospital wing, you’ll catch the most recent strand of wizards’ flu – and that stuff is deadly!”

At first, you were sure that they had Remus’ best interests at heart when they were spouting this nonsense at you, but in all honesty, you were beginning to doubt it. You had always visited him after previous full moons – hell, you had even helped carry him to the hospital wing after some particularly bad nights, so why could you not see him now?

This line of thought is how you found yourself padding along the hallways under the thick cover of night, moonlight pouring through the vast windows that stretched from floor to ceiling, where chandeliers hung down. Paintings lined the walls too, and you could hear murmurs of their complaints behind you as you carried on walking, your wand serving to illuminate your path.

You rounded the final corner to the hospital wing, tentatively approaching the entrance as a shiver ran its way up your spine – you were beginning to wish you had worn a little more than just your pyjamas and cloak, a pair of shoes probably would have made the journey less chilling, but you left in such a rush to see Remus that you did not even consider that.

Lifting your wand up, you held it steadily in front of the lock and whispered, “Alohomora.”

After hearing the tell-tale clink of the door unlocking, you stepped forwards, wrapping your hand around the doorknob, but your thoughts stopped you for a moment. Normally, breaking into the infirmary would be something you frowned down upon and if Madame Pomfrey caught you, or if anyone caught you for that matter, there would undoubtedly be consequences, even if you were just trying to check that Remus was okay. You weighed out the pros and cons, fingers still gripping the handle, before making your decision. You missed Remus and seeing him was worth any punishment you could be given. And so, you twisted your wrist, wincing as the doorknob whined.

Following a slight struggle, you resorted to shoving the door open with the brute force of your shoulder, which you found made the entire ordeal a lot easier, but also a whole lot louder. You finally stumbled into the infirmary, the scraping sound ceasing as the door slowly clicked back shut behind you.

Your eyes flitted around, taking in the numerous empty beds and lit sconces that brightened the room, the shadows of the flames flickering and dancing across the walls. As you wove between the rows of beds you noticed that none of the students were first years, let alone suffering from the black plague, like Sirius had told you – though it was not as if you would believe him, he was an absolutely terrible liar.

Once you had finally reached the far end of the hospital wing, you located Remus’ bed, which was not a massive feat. The curtains were drawn around it, obscuring your view so that all you could see was his silhouette, curled into itself as he laid there.

You assumed that he was sleeping and turned to leave him alone to rest, but before you snuck back out again, you heard his sheets rustling and a particularly pained groan slipped out from his throat.

Concerned, you shuffled back towards the curtains, reaching forward and carefully pulling them back, trying to create as little noise as possible.

As you revealed him, even under the dim lighting, you took notice of the many bandages wrapped around his head; more than were usually there and you frowned, it must have been another bad full moon, the first one in a while.

“Remus?” you questioned, eyebrows knitting together in slight worry when he did not respond. “Remus, are you alright?”

“No.”

You wanted to kick yourself for that one – he had just been locked away in the Shrieking Shack to deal with a full moon alone, what sort of answer were you expecting?

“Well,” you replied cautiously, picking up the copy of The Daily Prophet that laid atop his bedside table and unfolding the pages to reveal today’s headline, “How would you feel if I read you the paper? It says there’s more information on the national goblin strikes – I remember you mentioned being interested in that, Rem.”

“Already read that one,” he grumbled, rolling over so that his back was facing you.

“Okay, how about,” you offered, wandering around to the foot of his bed, taking a seat on it, springs squeaking as you got comfortable, “once you get better and the strikes stop, we can go down to Gringotts, get some money out, and then we can buy some new books together.”

In response to this, Remus said nothing, but instead buried his head further into his pillow, hardly even acknowledging you.

“Remus please, just speak to me alright? I’m here for you,” you pleaded him, your eyes lighting up slightly as he began to sit up, looking at you for the first time since you had arrived. This close, you could really see how torn up he was, with fresh scratches across his face, crossing over the faded scars of older wounds, almost looking like reflections of each other. He still had some blood on his skin around his cuts, though it was dried now, and you assumed that the nurses had not been able to clean it off without worsening his pain.

He seemed to notice your eyes roving across his face and body because he began to pull down the sleeves of his sweater, covering his forearms as an almost ashamed look took over his features.

“Please just leave me alone,” he pleaded, his eyes shut, and brows knitted together – a melancholic sight, and you wished you knew how to help him.

“Rem…” you whispered, leaning in to him, your arm lifting up to cradle his face, “you don’t have to talk to me yet, okay?” Your palm was on his cheek now, you could feel the ridges of his scars under your fingers, the heat of his skin warming yours up, the left-over blood sticking you to him – like some sort of blood bond, you thought, a small smile raising the corners of your lips.

You stayed like this for a moment, a peaceful moment, before you brought your other hand up to rest against the column of his throat, atop the layer of bandages wrapped around his neck and you could feel the steady thrum of his heartbeat beneath your fingertips.

“I love you, Remus,” you mumbled, as if it were a promise, something to be shared between you two and no one else, a secret.

You found yourself tipping your head forward, foreheads kissing as your palms held his face, his skin feeling damp… with tears? You pulled back and his soft brown eyes stared into yours, unblinking, something changing behind them as he grabbed your wrists and yanked them away from his cheeks, holding them tightly in front of him.

“I told you-” he spat, roughly shoving your hands away- “just piss off.”

[ladylokilaufeyson5]

Beyond Rumours

Remus Lupin x Fem!Reader

Chapter Twenty-One

Summary: Y/n is a Malfoy. A Pureblood. A pretentious, blood-status-loving Slytherin. At least, those are the rumours, but since when has Remus Lupin ever really cared about rumours?

Warnings: swearing

Word Count: 1.8K

A/N: heyy. how y'all doing... sorry i left this so long lol. as u probably know i'm currently writing some things for my 1k celebration but i've nearly finished that so hopefully i'll be able to write more of this :))

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REMUS LUPIN

Saturday, 24th of December 1977

The fire crackled beside us as my group of six friends sat in the common room. It was well past eleven now – everyone else had gone to bed, but the rest of us just had so much to do and talk about, apparently.

The Yule Ball was a popular topic. None of the girls would tell us what they were wearing, which seemed to infuriate Sirius – he'd always been a lover of fashion. Whenever it was mentioned I'd always sneak a glance at Y/n – just to see her already looking at me. Maybe they were right. Maybe she did like me – maybe I could ask her...

No.

She wouldn't.

James and Lily sat together on the couch – and I mean together. At the beginning, Lily had just draped her legs across his, but now she was fully sat in his lap, arms circled around his neck and hands playing in his curls. His hands were around her waist respectfully. His hands never ventured lower, and he'd even asked her permission for it. He thought he'd been discreet, but I could hear everything – one of the few pros (or one of the many cons, depending on how you looked at it) of being a werewolf.

"We should probably be getting to bed soon," Lily yawned.

"C'mon, it's not like we're gonna miss Santa Claus," James grinned. "He's not real."

Sirius gasped, placing his hands over Peter's ears. "Shh! Don't spoil Pete's dreams!"

Peter batted his hands away with a scowl, causing the rest of us to laugh.

"Hey, what if we have a sleepover?" James suggested. "Y'know, all of us?"

Sirius sat upright and stared at James with adoration in his eyes. "James Fleamont Potter," he gushed, "That is completely and utterly the best idea you've ever come up with!"

"A sleepover is his best idea ever?" Y/n scoffed. "And here I was, thinking James may have had a bright future ahead of him."

James scowled and everyone laughed.

"A sleepover sounds fun," Lily said.

"Well, since us fellas can't get into the ladies' dorms, it seems you will be joining us," Sirius said, winking at Lily, and causing James's arms to tighten slightly.

Lily and Y/n got up to get changed into their pyjamas and get ready for bed, and the rest of us walked to the boys' dorms. Regulus disappeared into the bathroom, and James cast a silencing charm before turning on me.

"Have you asked her out yet?" he pressed.

"Who?"

"Y/n, you idiot!" Sirius cut in.

I felt myself blush a deep red, and I looked away, rubbing the back of my neck. "Er... no."

"Why not?" Sirius demanded.

"I don't think she likes me," I mumbled.

Sirius looked at me like I had said the stupidest thing ever, and it made me want to hit him. "C'mon, you asked her to the ball, and she said yes! That's gotta mean something!"

"Maybe she just didn't want to hurt my feelings," I protested. Even though my thoughts travelled back to how she'd reacted – how she'd seemed glad, excited, even. But maybe that was just wishful thinking.

Sirius scoffed and James rolled his eyes.

"All in favour that Y/n likes Remus back and he should ask her out?" Peter suggested, raising his hand.

I glared at my friends as their hands all rose in the air, and they all voiced their agreements.

"Wait, you like Y/n?" All of our heads whipped to the bathroom door, where Regulus stood, a massive grin on his face. "I gotta tell her."

I felt my stomach drop, and I was surprised it hadn't fallen out of my body and hit the floor.

"You aren't telling anyone anything," Sirius barked. "Can anyone perform a memory charm?"

"Hey! You stay away from my memories!" Regulus hissed, covering his head as if it would shield him from the magic.

James stepped towards Regulus, "You understand why Moony would want to keep this quiet, right?"

Regulus just looked at James, assessing him, and I felt my heart drop. Regulus would tell Y/n, and she would be weirded out and never speak to me again. I could already see it happening, see everything playing out in my head... until Regulus sighed.

"Fine," he muttered, "my lips are sealed."

It was silent for a moment, before Peter piped up, "Regulus would know if Y/n likes Remus too."

I saw a look of shock on Regulus's face before he quickly schooled his features into neutrality and shrugged. "I don't think I'm allowed to tell you that."

"Reg–" Sirius started, but Peter cut across.

"It's a yes!" he yelled.

Everyone turned to him, expressions of confusion clear on our faces.

"I dunno how you came to that conclusion, mate," James said.

"Well, if she didn't like Remus, Regulus would just tell us, wouldn't he?" Peter explained. "Y'know, so you don't get your hopes up. And if he's not allowed to tell us, it's obviously a secret, which means it's obviously a yes."

Everyone looked to Regulus, who muttered, "fuck."

"HA!" Sirius yelled, pointing at me. "Told you so!"

"Shut up," I grumbled, flopping down onto my bed.

Sirius whooped and jumped up on his bed, throwing his head back and singing, "Moony's in love! Our Moony's in love!"

"Shut up!"

"Never!"

"I will hang you from the Astronomy Tower," I threatened.

"That doesn't sound very Prefect-like of you."

I turned at the sound of Y/n's voice to see her grinning, standing beside Lily in the doorway. I quickly looked at the others, unsure as to how long they'd been there.

"How much of that did you catch?" I asked nervously.

Y/n cocked her head. "Er... just your violent threat. Also you telling Sirius to shut up, which, I'm sure, was for a valid reason."

Sirius gasped in outrage and lunged for Y/n, but she sidestepped, smiling as she did so. That little grin was enough to make me smile too, but it dropped as soon as I saw my friends giving me suggestive smirks.

Lily and Y/n conjured mattresses for themselves and made their beds, before they both sat cross-legged beside each other.

We'd never had a sleepover before – at least, not with the girls. I expected them to beg us to do our hair or make up, but that never happened. The closest thing to that was Y/n yanking on Regulus's hair because he was annoying her.

It took a while for everyone to fall asleep. We were all so excited and eager for Christmas and the ball that we were wide awake. But no one stayed up forever. Peter was the first to fall asleep. I could hear him snoring away, so I cast a sound-silencing charm over his bed so we wouldn't wake him up. Lily was next, in James's arms. And then James himself, and Sirius and Regulus, until it was just me and Y/n left.

The moon shone into the dorm – it had been full a week ago, and it still glowed brightly, the stars glinting beside it. Y/n studied it carefully and then looked over at me. I felt myself blush when I realised I'd been caught staring, but the girl just smiled at me.

"What are you thinking about?" I asked.

Y/n looked at me for a moment, chewing on her bottom lip. James let out a snort in his sleep, which caused Y/n to jump. I had to stifle a laugh, and she narrowed her eyes at me, and I hesitated for a moment before gesturing to her to come over. She looked at the bed beside her and slowly got up, tiptoeing across the room and to my bed. I cast a silencing charm and she raised an eyebrow, to which I shook my head furiously, embarrassment and mortification filling my body.

"That's not – I didn't cast the charm because – because I wanted–"

Y/n laughed. "I was just teasing."

Relief washed through me, and I was able to smile alongside her. It was silent, before–

"The – the stars," she whispered. "I was thinking about the stars. That one is Regulus."

She pointed to a star in the sky, but I couldn't make out which one it was.

"I – I look at it, sometimes, when I'm at – at that place. When I'm surrounded by them." It took me a moment to realise she was talking about Malfoy Manor, and her family members. "It – it feels like he's there with me, sometimes. Comforting me."

"You love him," I stated.

Y/n smiled slightly. "Tell him and I'll have to kill you."

I smiled back at her, feeling her words resonate slightly.

"I know what you mean," I confessed, looking at the sleeping figures of my friends. "I – without them, I... I wouldn't..."

I wouldn't be who I am. I would be shrouded in misery and self-hatred. My friends were everything to me. They were worth more than anything in the world. More than money, more than fame, and (although I'd never admit it to them) more than books and chocolate. They were my rock in a stormy sea, the thing that kept me afloat.

Y/n nodded softly in understanding. "I know," she murmured.

She was no longer smiling, but there was empathy in her features. Did she feel the same way about Regulus? Was he her rock? Her eyes bored into mine, and I was suddenly reminded of the saying, the eyes are the window to the soul. If she looked hard enough, would she see through? See inside, see what a monster I was?

"What are you thinking about?" she asked.

I couldn't tell her – not this, never this. I wanted to believe that she'd be understanding, that she'd be like James and Sirius and Peter and Lily – that she wouldn't care. But I couldn't take that risk.

"The Ball," I lied.

If she knew that I hadn't told the truth, she made no mention of it. In fact, she even smiled, looking down shyly and batting her eyelashes a bit.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah," I said. "I, um... I think it'll be good. Y'know, if I don't trample your feet."

Y/n chuckled and looked up at me, her smile brightening the room, washing out the glow of the moon. "You'll be fine, Remus. I believe in you."

And the way she said my name – fuck. I was falling hard, and I could tell there was no stopping. I was freefalling without a parachute, without anything to stop or catch me. This wasn't going away, the feelings weren't going away. I should stop it now, I should just let her go, but...

But you're scared. You want her.

I did want her. So badly. I wanted to be with her, to kiss her, to hold her hand and hold her and be the one she called hers.

"We should probably get some rest, huh?" she suggested, looking back at her own makeshift bed. "Y'know, so we don't miss Santa?"

I grinned at her, and she slid off my bed and into her own.

You'll be fine, Remus. I believe in you.

Fuck. It was really going to hurt when I hit the ground.

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[imaginedreamwrite]

Day 20: Decorating the Christmas tree with Curtis, mousey and the boys 🎄

Christmas Countdown day 20 — Do something together as a couple/family

The massive Christmas tree sat in the middle of the picture window, already decorated and decked out with lights that sparkled delicately among the green spindles. There were boxes upon boxes of ornaments yet to be taken out and set upon the tree, though Theo and James were steadily tearing into the cardboard to unleash the sparkly baubles.

“Did you get a big enough tree?” You questioned Curtis, squeaking as usual when he playfully swat your ass through your flannel pyjama bottoms. “I mean why stop at 9-“

“10,” Curtis corrected you, kissing into your hair, “its 10ft, Mousey.”

“10 feet? Curtis-” you furrowed your brows, turning into his hold on you, shivering against his wandering hand down your back and up again.

“Mama!” Theo bound toward you with a handful of dark blue pastel baubles, one of them slipping from his hand to bounce against the floor. “Do you want to help us? James chose red, I chose blue-“

“Daddy gets green!” James chimed in, unleashing a flurry of green decorations into the couch cushions. “And mama gets…”

“Everything.” You teased and stepped away from Curtis to chase the two back to the unopened boxes, snatching a handful from the cushions. “I like all the colours.”

“Mama!” James turned and held out a few red balls, his fingers dangling them in front of you to let Theo dive away. “Hang these?”

“How about,” you grabbed his hand in yours and moved with him to the tree, “we decorate it together? You put yours on first and then I’ll put mine on.”

James had hooked his chosen decoration near the bottom right, fingers slipping the tie on the artificial green branch. As he had finished, James had waited until you slipped yours on before he went for another. You hummed under your breath and placed your decoration where you wanted it, your hum turning to a happy sigh when Curtis stepped in behind you.

“I have an an ornament for you, Mousey.” Curtis whispered in your ear, reaching toward the tree with a hand decorated snowman, the colours bright and clearly painted by James and Theo.

“Its us. Its all of us.” You observed the ornament and the picture stuck inside the glass, the image of you, Theo, James and Curtis bringing a wide and brimming grin to your face.

“From the fair, mama. Daddy helped make it.” Theo drew himself toward you, with James behind, and wrapped his arms around your legs.

“I love it,” you crouched to hug Theo and James, tightly wrapping your arms around them, “I love all of you so much.”

[maraudersftw]

Blueberry + Black + Bliss

Many thanks for this lovely prompt, anon! I'm sorry I suck at stopping under 1000 words.

Sweet Blue

Lily barreled down the stairs, massive package in hand, grin rampant over lips as excitement buzzed like a second skin around her.

The Gryffindor Common Room, bereft of occupants save for a few stragglers who’d decided to forgo some precious Sunday lie-in, flew by her periphery without garnering so much as an acknowledging scan as she skipped towards the Boys’ staircase. A foot had barely fallen onto the first step when she was halted unceremoniously by an amused call of her name.

“Oi, Evans!” his voice rang out, and she whipped her head around to spot a shock of black hair, smiling hazel eyes, lazy smirk. The sight of him, burrowed inside an armchair, instantly sent the thrum beneath her ribcage stuttering. “Off to accost some poor bloke this early in the morning? At least wait for the sun to rise fully, would you? Some of us need more time to collect our wit.”

She narrowed her eyes, thoughts clattering as she debated her next course of action. Futile as the pretence that she’d been on a path to accost someone who was not the boy in front of her was, it only took Lily another half-second to make the decision, step away from the staircase, and towards him. James’s gaze brightened infinitesimally, evidently pleased by the deviation.

“Don’t club in everyone else with yourself, Potter,” she remarked happily, rounding the couch to plop down on its unbelievable cushiness. “Not everyone’s as slow as you.”

He reached out one of those unfairly long arms to bridge the space between them and flick her nose. Lily held back the widening grin. “And there’s that cheek. Even at six in the morning.”

Rather than blush tellingly at the fondness he directed at her, she nodded at the pile of Transfiguration notes and books around him. “What’s this? James Potter studying on a Sunday? Am I dreaming?”

“Afraid of a little competition?” he threw back, fire glinting off glasses. “Don’t worry, Evans, you’ll still beat me in Charms and Potions.”

For a second, the golden glaze of the sun hitting his hair from the window behind stole the words from her tongue, the breath from her lungs. Prompted by James’s prolonged stare, a warmth blossomed on her cheeks, bringing back some sense. “I’d beat you in DADA too.”

“Ha! You can dream.”

“I don’t make it a habit to dream about you, Potter.”

“That makes one of us,” he said, completely unabashed.

Lily fairly choked on that honesty, muscles tightening near her clavicle with strange breathlessness. “You dream about yourself? Takes the narcissism to new heights.”

James cocked a brow, but let her deliberate misunderstanding of the phrase slide. “Technically, everyone dreams about themselves.”

“Ugh, it’s too early for this,” she groaned, sliding her legs into a fold on the couch, fluffy warm pyjamas keeping the December chill at bay. “I was going to your dormitory for a purpose, you know?”

James instantly leaned forward, pleased and making no effort to hide it. “You were coming to see me?”

“To see all of you,” she mumbled like a coward. Perhaps there was also some lie interlaced in there, because he’d certainly been the reason she’d felt an extra jauntiness during her excursion. Not willing to impart that particular knowledge, Lily held out the package to him. “Open it.”

Curiosity creased his brows, smile never waning. “What’s this?”

“Open it, you impatient tosser.”

James grumbled something about ‘mean harpies posing as Head Girls’ and ‘no appreciation for those of curious minds’ while carefully unwrapping the package, all of which Lily soundly ignored in favour of vibrating with anticipation. When the last of the brown wrapping paper fell away, she squealed at the pink box that was revealed, full with a glossy sheen and pretty prints and designs; exactly the way she remembered it.

James looked at her, back at the box, then at her again. Eventually, amusement had his lips pinching together. “If I don’t find at least two dragon eggs inside this, I’ll be disappointed.”

“It’s something even better, I promise!” She wiggled her palms, urging him to open the box.

When he finally popped open the lid, Lily found herself under the very real threat of toppling to the floor, so far had she leaned forward. Eager green eyes spotted the dozen or so confectionaries that sat cheerily inside, miraculously undisturbed during their journey across England. “They’re blueberry muffins!” she informed giddily. “I requested mum to send across some from this bakery in my hometown.”

James’s smile softened as he looked inside the box, so much so that when he turned his eyes to her again, the gold in them had melted into a warm honey. “You do get blueberry muffins here too, you know,” he said kindly, voice fond.

“I know, but those are just imposters. These are the real deal. Take a bite, go on. I can bet you’ll be kissing my feet in thanks.”

“Do I have to kiss your feet? Can't it be something else?”

Her heart bloated dangerously. “James.”

“Only kidding,” he chuckled, reaching inside dutifully and picking out a muffin. At her incessantly exaggerated prompting, he made a show of rolling his eyes before finally biting into the spongey cake. It was bizarre, but Lily could swear she felt flavours blue and sweet burst on her own tongue when James moaned aloud, eyes scrunched in bliss as he chewed.

“It’s good, isn’t it?”

“What the fuck,” he whispered in disbelief after swallowing, staring down at the remaining muffin as if it had personally offended him by not being available before. “What the actual fuck?”

“I told you!” she crowed, smirking openly without a hint of modesty. “Isn’t it just the best thing you’ve ever tasted?”

“Merlin, I might cry.” He blinked, grinning at her. “Give me those feet, Evans.”

Lily’s smirk dimmed, veins strangely suffused with molten courage instead of blood as she reached forward and plucked the box from James’s lap, setting it aside on the table. The distressed cry he let out died abruptly when she looked at him again, face serious.

“Will my lips do?”

James froze, eyes wide, muffin forgotten in hand. “Lily,” he warned, voice low. “Don’t. Not if you’re still thinking—not if you’re not sure.”

Her fingers found his free hand, ran over the warm palm breezily. “I’m sure,” she confessed, lashes fluttering as she stared at his Quidditch-given calluses. “I’m sorry it’s taken me so long, but—I’m sure now.”

“Look at me.”

She did.

James’s eyes were aflame, even as his breath remained tempered. “Tell me what you want.”

“I want—” She bit her lip. “I want you to kiss me. I want to eat that muffin, and then I want you to take me to Hogsmeade next weekend.”

A beat passed. And then she found his hand snaking around her wrist, tugging her forward until she sloppily stumbled over to his armchair and right into his recently vacated lap. Distantly, she registered that they had an audience—however meagre—but she’d truly never cared less.

“Good plan,” James whispered, tossing the rest of the muffin into the box. Lily didn’t even feel inclined to chastise him for messing up the presentation, because he was gripping her waist the next second, pulling her closer until his nose brushed hers tenderly. “Always the perfect answer, Miss Evans.”

“Shut up,” Lily laughed, cradling his head, pulling him forward.

Their lips met, mouths opened, and blue and sweet burst on her tongue.

[hobis-hope94]

~ He Promised p4 ~

Characters: Y/N & Bucky

Warning: nightmares, Bucky accidentally hurts Y/N, food, swearing, crying & angst

You arrived at Bucky’s apartment in little over an hour. You were greeted by Bucky, he looked happy to see you.

As promised, you brought pizza and you two sat and watched the first Hobbit film, you giggled every so often at his reaction, knowing he’s a massive nerd when it comes to those books.

“How come you’ve not decorated, Buck?” You asked after your eyes were slowly scanning his seemingly empty apartment.

“Haven’t really wanted to,” Bucky shrugged, taking a sip of beer from his bottle.

You felt sad. Bucky wasn’t used to comfort, and it showed.

He wasn’t used to people being nice to him, you sadly remembered the first time you met Bucky, you were your normal cheery self, but he kept back and anytime you went to comfort him, he backed away or flinched and it broke your heart. It still does when you think about it.

You knew he thought he didn’t deserve all the peace that was gonna come his way.

Bucky’s face flustered as you cuddled into his side, linking your arm with his metal one, intertwining your fingers together.

“That’s gotta change, Buckaroo. This weekend, I can help you decorate if you’d like?” You said gently, your gaze not leaving the screen.

“I’d …. Sure,” Bucky said, coughing awkwardly.

You suddenly realised what you did and you untangled yourself from him, and moved away from him as much as you could.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to overstep any boundaries,” you said, making yourself as small as possible so you wouldn’t touch Bucky anymore.

“I don’t mind, doll,” Bucky said honestly, shooting you a smile, causing you to smile too.

The film finished and you stretched.

“I should probably hit the road,” you said, standing up.

“Y/N, it’s late and you’re tired and you’ve had something to drink. Don’t drive, it’s dangerous. Stay the night … you can stay in what should be my room,” Bucky said as he stood up too.

“Where will you sleep?” You asked slowly.

“I …. I sleep on the floor out here. I can’t sleep in a bedroom, it’s too small … well, to me anyway. I like being out in a big space ….it makes me feel … feel … feel like I’m not back in cryo …or in a cell about to be brainwashed,” Bucky said, sadness could be heard in his voice as he avoided your gaze.

You gave him a sad look, you felt horrible. You’ve been so caught up in your own feelings you hadn’t considered that Bucky is struggling, his struggles must be worse than yours.

Everyone from his past is gone, and you felt guilty and selfish for not thinking about his feelings.

“You’re not back there, James. You’re never going to be back there ever again. You’re safe. They can’t hurt you … I won’t let them even if they tried,” you said gently, wanting to go over to him but hanging back as to not to freak him out.

“Thank you, Y/N. I … I want you to know you mean more to me than anyone ever has,” Bucky said gently, making you smile slightly.

“You too, Buck. You mean so much to me, you don’t even know,” you said gently.

You two looked at each other, both completely unaware that you both wanted to kiss each other right there and then. Bucky coughed awkwardly.

“I … huh. Bathroom’s through there. I’ll clean up,” Bucky said gently, gathering the things from dinner.

You thanked him and went into the bathroom. Since you weren’t planning on staying the night, you didn’t have any pyjamas, and you felt a little embarrassed.

“I can’t sleep in my bra and pants,” you muttered quietly to yourself.

A knock at the bathroom door caused you to jump sky high. You opened it to see Bucky holding some clothing for you.

“I mean … this is all I have. One of my jumpers … I …. I figured since I’m twice your size, it’ll kind of work as a nightgown for you. I … huh … figured this one from when I was apparently … beefy …. might be a little bigger,” Bucky said turning bright red, avoiding your gaze yet again.

You laughed and turned red slightly. Yes, you did nickname Bucky beefy during the whole civil war situation, only to lighten the mood and make Bucky feel safer, you were worried you offended him, you had no idea he didn’t mind a single bit.

You remembered the first time you called Bucky “beefy”. It took you by surprise and it made Steve laugh, and Bucky blush really hard. You apologised profoundly and Bucky kept insisting that he didn’t mind but you weren’t sold.

You smile gratefully and took Bucky’s jumper.

“Thank you, Buck,” you said and Bucky nodded.

He left and you shut the door again. You undressed yourself, and smiled at the red Henley. You changed into it, it was sure very oversized for you, you smiled slightly.

You finished washing your face and brushing your hair, then you attempted to brush your teeth with your index finger.

“Wow they make it look so easy,” you thought to yourself as you remembered your friends before joining the Avengers.

They had told you about staying the night at a guys’ place and forgetting their toothbrushes, so they had to use their finger, but it wasn’t as easy or as pleasant as you thought.

You came out of the bathroom only to find Bucky’s apartment empty.

“Buck?” You called gently.

“In here,” Bucky’s voice came from his bedroom.

You went in and his bedroom was just as bare as his living room, and it broke your heart. His bed was neatly made from never using it.

“I don’t sleep in here, god knows I try. But I changed the bedding anyway,” Bucky said gently, going red, once again avoiding your gaze, he went even redder when you appeared in the doorway only in his Henley.

“Thank you, James. You didn’t need to do that,” you said, softly.

“…shout if you need anything,” Bucky said gently, still staring at the floor.

“Thank you,” you said.

“Huh … goodnight, Y/N,” Bucky said gently, then quickly leaving the room as you managed to say goodnight back.

You sank heavily into Bucky’s bed, you were worried you’d made things awkward between the both of you by coming here.

Bucky was in his bathroom, over the sink, splashing his face with cold water to try and cool himself down.

“Shit, Barnes. Shit,” Bucky hissed at himself. “She’s only just getting better, she’s starting to feel like herself again. Give her time … shit,” Bucky hissed, mentally beating himself.

He went into the living room, only to hear gentle sobs coming from his bedroom. He didn’t know that you still cried yourself to sleep. You found nights hard. Bucky’s heart broke, but things got too ….touchy at dinner so he hung back.

He laid on his hardwood flooring, switched the tv on quietly to a football game so he could try and sleep.

—

You were woken suddenly by a loud and deafening scream. You came to and realised it was Bucky. You jolted out of bed and ran to the living room.

The sight broke your heart, you knew he had nightmares since he always called you after waking up from one, but you never witnessed it head on. It made your heart shatter into a million pieces.

He was thrashing about in his sleep, muttering words in Russian, he had a horrible pained look on his face, you tried staying calm. Carefully, you went over to him.

You knelt beside him carefully.

“Buckaroo, baby. You’re okay. It’s just a dream,” you whispered, gently trying to shake him awake.

You shook him harder and called his name louder. Then, his eyes shot open. You didn’t expect what happened next, he struck you with his metal hand causing you to fall backwards. Then he shot up, fully aware of himself.

He saw you on the floor, clutching your cheek, giving him a worried expressiion. You weren’t worried for yourself or scared of him. Your only concerns were his mental well-being. His face fell when he realised what he did.

“Shit, Y/N,” he breathed, staring at you, as you gathered yourself and sat up to be on the same level as him.

“I’m okay,” you reassured him, carefully going over and rubbing his back.

His face fell when he saw the bruise he left on your face. He tried to move from your touch but you kept him grounded.

“Bucky, look at me,” you said firmly but gently.

Bucky looked at you, tears rolling down his cheeks. You wiped them away with your thumb.

“It’s okay, Bucky. I’m alright, see? It’s just a bruise. It’ll heal,” you comforted, running your hands up and down his back soothingly.

“I hurt you, Y/N. How are you so calm?” Bucky whimpered, his eyes trained on the big purple bruise that was already forming on your soft cheek.

“That wasn’t you, and it was probably my fault for startling you,” you said gently, your eyes shining with genuine love and adoration for the man sitting in front of you.

“I’m sorry,” Bucky whimpered, his shoulders hunched forward as he gave in and cried into his hands.

“Hey, hey. Don’t cry,” you said gently, your voice cracking. “Besides, it’s quite cool. I can tell people I got it in a fight and I can say the lines: “if you’re concerned about this you should see the other guy.” I’ve always wanted to use those words,” you tried to joke.

When Bucky didn’t respond to the joke, you gently wrapped your arms around his broad shoulders, kissing the part where metal met flesh on his left shoulder, every so often, shushing him when his sobs got louder.

Once Bucky was calm again, he looked at you, you smiled reassuringly at him, got up and went to the bathroom.

You came back with a damp cloth and gently sat back down and dabbed his cheeks, neck and forehead.

Bucky watched you carefully as you gently hummed a soft tune while you were cleaning the sweat from him.

How could someone so beautiful, gentle and loving be so kind to him after what he just did?

“What’s going on in that cyborg brain of yours?” You asked gently, your instincts of wanting to hear laughter kicked in with the last remark, you realised he had gone extremely quiet.

“Why are you so nice to me?” Bucky asked quietly, his voice cracking made your heart shatter into a million pieces. “I don’t deserve kindness, and after what I just did, I don’t deserve YOUR kindness. I just … I just hurt you.” He added tearfully.

“Hey! You look at me right now James Buchanan Barnes!” You said firmly but softly.

When he refused to meet your gaze, you gently grabbed his cheeks and made him look at you.

“You, of all people, deserve kindness. You deserve love. You deserve to be safe and happy. You deserve to be treated like a human more than the rest of us do. You are not a monster. You did not hurt me. Do you understand?” You said, staring into his ocean blue eyes.

Bucky didn’t respond, he kept his eyes fixated on your face, almost studying you.

Then, he launched forward and kissed you. At first you felt happy, then you remembered. You pulled away, Bucky looked just as guilty as you did.

“I’m sorry, James I -“ you said, standing up and backing away from him.

“No, doll. Don’t apologise. I came onto you. I’m sorry,” Bucky said, feeling terrible, standing up with you.

“I’m … I’m gonna go back … back to my apartment,” you said slowly, running to the bathroom.

You never got dressed quicker. You threw your night before clothes on, gently putting his red Henley in the laundry basket and exited the bathroom. Bucky looked extremely broken and guilty.

“Please, Y/N. You don’t have to go,” Bucky said gently as you headed towards his door.

“I think it’s best for the both of us, Buck. I’ll … I’ll let you know I’m home,” you said tearfully, reaching for the door knob.

“Drive safely,” Bucky said, almost defeatedly.

“Im sorry, Buck. This is for the best,” you said gently.

Bucky nodded as you said goodbye then left hurriedly. Once you got in the comfort of your car, you let out a heavy sigh, hid your face in your hands and cried, cried hard.

You wanted to kiss him. You wanted to be with Bucky. But some stupid part of you still couldn’t hurt Steve like that. Once you had calmed down, you drove back to your empty apartment.

You were greeted by Steve’s dog tags still on the table with his letter still opened. You sighed heavily again. You found one of your crafty little boxes, and sat down.

You gently put Steve’s letter in the box, along with his dog tags and The engagement ring. You shut the lid.

“I’m sorry, Steve. I’m sorry for everything,” you sobbed as you gently put the now Steve’s box on an empty shelf on your book shelf.

You got into your favourite pair of pyjamas, and fuzzy socks then climbed into bed. You texted Bucky to let him know you were okay, he didn’t reply, and it hurt.

You turned your phone off, rolled over to your side and let a few tears run down your cheeks. You were crying because you still missed Steve, you were crying because you wanted to kiss Bucky.

You love Bucky, almost more than you ever loved Steve. But you couldn’t do that to Steve. Even after he ripped your heart out, you still thought about his feelings.

People loved that about you, that you were selfless. You hated it.

You just wanted to do something for you for once, and it hurt that you couldn’t. So you cried yourself to an empty sleep, worrying about the way you left Bucky, worrying about how hurt he must have been after you being so kind to him. You had a dreamless sleep. It was horrible.

—-

Tag list:

@wxnter-sxldier-deactivated20210

@jackiehollanderr

@jessyballet

Thanks for reading everyone, I promise it’s gonna get fluffy soon!

[ohcoolnice]

Okay so some people (read: one person, and it may have been jokingly) asked me to continue so y'all Imma break down some of my favorite scenes that I'm thinking of off the top of my head:

Starting off with episode 1:

holy hell so many SO MANY scenes but i'm going to start with the scene where Pablo's men come to kill Vincenzo.

Right before this we have the shot with Vincenzo sitting alone on his couch. He's thinking. Close-up on the lighter and all that (SERATONIN). Then parallel to the dark, empty same room, it's nighttime.

Now we've seen so little of Vincenzo but we know he's clever, and we also know that if he was sleeping, we would get that shot. Camera isn't here to trick us (well, not yet anyways), the camera is here to trick them. They think he's sleeping. He's not.

And the shot when he's coming out of the bathroom: SO MANY THINGS HERE:

- first of all, stunning, gorgeous, brilliant.

- secondly, let's talk wardrobe, because this is what I live for rn. The costume design in this show good lord:

- He's in pyjama's. GOOD GOD HE IS IN PJ'S. Why is this such a big deal to me? Think of James Bond movies, or really any movie with a similar scene. The assailant would be dressed in a suit or at least daytime clothes. So they could leave after. But the SHEER AUDACITY of this man showing up in his silks, sweeping the robe wide around him when he spins, and then shooting his would-be killers without changing his expression, not even BLINKING when the gun goes off (idk how sjk does this time after time but that's massive testament to his acting as well).

- the pj's are so symbolic of his character. This shit is his life. He knew it was coming, he didn't give any shits. It wasn't hurried, he didn't at the last minute hide pillows under the blankets: no no no. BOY WAS WAITING UP FOR THESE DUDES and fully was ready to just go back to sleep after. Gives no shits. It's kill or be killed, so he's adapted and accepted it's his life. Later in the show when they're betrayed, Cha-young asks Vincenzo if this (them being betrayed) doesn't bother him.

"I'm used to it." is his expressionless answer. GOD. So genius.

Now i don't like talking about this because I don't want to spoil for anyone who hasn't seen the show so SPOILER WARNING for the early episodes IM SERIOUS LOOK AWAY.

k cool.

so Junwoo. What caught my eye in episode 4 was not only his shirts but the angle at which he is shot at. Now this might just be me reading into it but i don't think so. Everything (mostly) is deliberate in this show, and shots are so carefully chosen i refuse to believe it's a mistake.

Before filming, camera angles are measured in reference to actors and the scene, to get their "good side" or to capture the feel of the scene and whatnot etc. SO tell me I'm crazy when all of a sudden we're no longer getting these simple, leveled shots of junwoo, but all of a sudden the angle is lower, or higher, we see him from what I feel is close to cha-young's eye level, and the shadow and lighting in the scene gives him a sharper profile, highlights the fact that he's buff.

I remember saying out loud to myself while watching for the first time "why is this random intern dude so buff" and then putting it down initially to just the actor being buff. And then I was wondering why they wouldn't just cast someone whose body fit the personality a bit more.

And then the end of the episode came and i instantly got it. That simple change in shot forces you to focus more on that character, even if it's irrelevant or brief, that character is now in the back of my mind. and as the blur subsides at the end of the episode and he's revealed, IT"S A SLOW SHIFT IN BLUR, but you KNOW for a good part of it, who it is. And during the shift you have time to think about that scene, or any scene with him, but you look and you think "oh shit. I should have known."

phenmominal. I love that so much.

And (last one okay sorry i know these long posts are probably annoying) I mentioned in the last post about the camera being the narattor. Don't believe me just yet?

Let's look at the scene where we find out Mr. Nam has been listening to their plan the whole time (episode 4 i think?). You think nothing of it because the whole scene is shot like a normal scene, you genuinely believe that the characters you see are the only characters in the scene. And because that's what they also believe, and we're still getting to know them, that makes sense. We see what they see from episodes 1-4 because after that point, everything is revealed, and we know everything (basically) we need to know about these characters, and now the show can really begin.

So when Mr. Nam pops up, yes, it's comedic, but you're also kind of startled because it's been hidden from you too, and it's yet again another warning: Pay attention. There's more going on than what you see.

SO BRILLIANT. SO ASJDKHASLKJD.

I might be overanalysing okay but I've wanted a show this ingenious for my entire existence it's so goddamn perfect.

So much 🤌🤌🤌🤌🤌🤌🤌🤌🤌🤌🤌 when I think about this show. I literally watch and just 🤌🤌🤌🤌

[sometranssoup]

Stans who obsess over celebrities in a creepy way are terrible. Not the people who just have a crush on a celebrity or the celebrity makes them happy, similar to a comfort character. I mean the people who make nsfw edits and art of celebrities or crop their child out of pictures or say 'oh,I'm a boy with a crush on dream so he's gay!'. Look, I'm a trans man with a massive crush on David Thewlis,the dude who plays Remus Lupin in HP,Ralf in the boy in the striped pyjamas,voices the worm in James and the giant peach,you've probably seen him somewhere,I have a massive crush on him,he makes me incredibly happy,however,I'm not yelling 'oH i LiKe DaViD tHeWlIs So HeS gOtTa Be GaY' and I'm fine with that. The man's fifty eight and on a different continent,he's not gonna date me and I'm probably never gonna meet him,I'm fine with that. I can have my crush on a straight person. Plenty of queer people have crushes on straight people. Just like your straight person and leave it at that. This turned into a bit of a rant,but,eh

[balkanballad]

esc 2021 fashion review. category: introduction and 🥀

hello and welcome to my review of this year’s fashion from the eurovision song contest. I decided to put them into 4 categories:

🥀

everything that sparkles isn’t necessarily a great outfit

either basic or interesting

and 💐

and today I am starting with 🥀 which is the category with most of my least favourite outfits, so let’s take a look:

San Marino

the whole look in the beginning with the mask just left me wondering why? also, the dancers are probably wearing my least favourite look(s) in the whole performance and also probably out of all the looks we have seen this esc year, that is why I am starting this category of least favourite looks with San Marino. Senhit’s lace, feathers and leather combination is sadly also not a preferred combination of mine. I love the concept of a jumpsuit, like the one she is wearing, but I think it could have been done so much better, maybe even with colours and with less weird masks for the dancers. and yes, I am a bit disappointed that Flo Rida didn’t come in the EUR OPE outfit from the music video. I was really hoping to see that shirt again, sigh.

Croatia

I’ve never actually seen “Starlight Express”, but this reminds me of those tv ads for it. messy seems to be the theme for this category and not usually something I am a fan of when it comes to fashion on the stage. it’s too much and a lot of it also looks very cheap and, yes, messy. I think the saddest part is that I don’t think it would have been hard to find something for the whole team that doesn’t make them look like this but actually good. even if they wanted to go with this superhero theme, there would have been a lot of cooler options.

Germany

the problem here is not only that I don’t love the messy concept but also how confusing it is. it is, for example, ironic how he’s wearing that annoying necklace (the necklace literally says the word annoying. is he bullying himself? or is he proud of that?). it’s simply hard to tell, imo, whether this is really a deep-ish message or satire and the hand in the high knee socks does not help with that. his suit, or whole look actually, reminds me a bit of Milan Stanković and that is also not a compliment (my comment on Milan’s look can be found here, btw). I don’t think there is anything I like about the fashion here and I don’t see a sense or coherency in these looks.

Norway

too much. another title that I could have chosen for this category. I don’t mind a nice angel theme and I don’t even mind the glasses here, but with the glitter everywhere, the name on the headband, the massive wings and the jewellery, it’s too much for me and, as I could already start saying here, but I will mention it in the next category as well, not everything has to sparkle. in my BDA rating I also mentioned this look because he won the award this year.

Serbia

it looks cheap to me. the fishnet stuff with the shiny high boots, the messy dresses/bodysuit(?) with glitter and balls and random rips simply doesn’t do it for me. I mean it fits the theme of a ‘hurricane’ hitting and you simply have to throw stuff on and run through that hurricane and it happened to somehow be enough for the black and white theme for all three of them. bonus points for making a theme there, but I still don’t like any of these looks and I can’t even tell you which is my least favourite.

Italy

this made me think of Greece 2003 a bit mixed with the Twilight aesthetic Volturi style and maybe if I was still in that phase, I could appreciate it more, but like this the looks don’t do much for me personally. why are they wearing no shirts? but a tie? it makes not much sense to me and it’s a bit too, yes that word again, messy, but that’s alright because I am obviously not the target audience for this and it was loved by many obviously.

Iceland

I know it’s their deal and I think it’s not only cute how they wear their faces on the shirts, but it also makes cool fan merch stuff for anyone who likes them, which I have to say is a great idea. it still reminds me of pyjamas and I do not think the added patches on the arms or the yellow lines were necessary at all. I also can’t decide whether instead of those added details, it would have been better to make the whole outfit in that green colour like we have seen them do it before. if pyjama, then full pyjama.

UK

I don’t think this was the best choice of a jacket for him, especially not while also dancing around a lot. I’m not a massive fan of the zippers and even less a fan of the huge necklace and the rings. I think those give a strange image all together and this image also doesn’t really fit him. I don’t mind the dancers’ outfits, I think those are okay, I just wish they had a bit more of a theme with the dancers’ and James’ outfit because like this, together, they look not that terrible but a bit random to me.

Czech Republic

Benny :/ in my red turquoise carpet favourites I mentioned Benny as the coolest person of the evening, sadly the actual stage outfit was disappointing to me. I really wanted the carpet suit back when I saw this look. I guess the theme for the stage was sporty, and that can be done in a good way, but I don’t think this was the way. why was it gold and silver and red sparkly? I don’t hate glitter and sparkles, quite the opposite actually, but I don’t think they need to be forced into everything. not everything has to sparkle to be a good eurovision outfit! also, the dancers, just as with UK’s performance, had not that much of a connection to his outfit, except for maybe fitting the sporty theme a little bit better. I just wish there was more sense behind it. 

[johnkrrasinski]

Midnight, I’m Not Leaving

full masterlist

Pairings: Biker!Bucky Barnes x female!reader (AU)

Word count: 1,995

Warning: fluff!!!! just a lot of feelings tbh.

Summary: you had your whole life planned out; work hard, move to new york and pursue your dreams... but what happens when a coquettish biker gang leader crossed your path and relentlessly asked you for a date?

a/n: this one’s written for @captain-rogers-beard​‘s “Flex Your Writing Muscles” challenge. i was inspired by the prompt “a late night bike ride under the stars” and i’ve been actually thinking of writing about biker!bucky for awhile!! so yeah, it was a perfect coincidence. please leave a like & comment! enjoy!

The crisp breeze felt piercing on your skin, your hair was blowing through all over your face barricading your sight, the soft hum of the engine that you had grown fond of reverberated in your ears, like midnight jazz cruising through the streets of Sunset Boulevard.

Bucky’s sturdy material of leather felt nice against your palm as you inhaled his musky scent, the smell soothed your nerves. But again, Bucky Barnes always soothed your nerves.

You had been dating the town’s most infamous bad boy slash biker gang leader, Bucky Barnes for over two months now. You were a persevering small-town girl who valued your independence and was determined to get out of this mundane place.

You wanted to migrate to the big city, preferably the Empire State, where you can be whoever you want to be, and there’s a seat for you and your big ambitions on the dining table. Not like this small-minded, incommodious small town where everyone seems to have a thing of sticking their noses in places they don’t belong and the most “noble” job you can have is being a waitress.

You didn’t have any desire in fulfilling this small town’s dreams for you by being a waitress but you had to fill in your bank account if you really wanted to leave and run to the big city. So you took a part-time job at a local bakery store, owned by Mrs. Potts, called “Potts’ Boulangerie,” where you get paid quite generously for someone who only works as a part-time waitress.

Life in Islesbury was anything but exciting and extraordinary during most days.

But all that changed since, a rainy afternoon, when the fearsome, James Buchanan Barnes, the leader of the notorious biker gang, “The Howling Commandos.” The bell above the door dinged as Bucky with his two most trusted men, Steve Rogers and Sam Wilson tried to fit their massive figures into the moderate-sized door that would fit the average people.

Bucky set his foot first as Sam then Steve trailed along. They were soaked with the droplets of rain that were clouding over the tranquility of Iselsbury but they didn’t seem to mind one bit. There was only you at that moment since Wanda wasn’t feeling too well so she worked only for half-day. The shop was a little slow too since it was raining and most people preferred to stay inside, and Wednesdays aren’t exactly the most casual day to stop by at the bakery store.

To say you weren’t a tad intimidated by the sight of these menacing men would be a deceit. You had heard the rumours, the small crimes that they did, the various members that had gone in and out prison, and the bars that they owned and ruled over. But you put on your professional facade anyway, and you did your job.

They immediately sat at the last table in the corner, where Bucky leaned against the window, whilst Sam and Steve sat next to each other at the opposite of his direction. You heard one of them say, “damn, it’s really coming down.”

You carefully walked over to them with your notepad and pencil, and you raise your voice meekly, “can I get you guys anything?” Bucky instantly turned his head and took a good look at you, shamelessly eyed you up and down. “Well, hello there, gorgeous.” Bucky winked.

You were taken aback by his blunt move. The fuck did he just call you? You weren’t an escort who was prying on your next potential client and on your way to seduce him. “Excuse me?” All the civility in you dissolved, your offence was on palpable.

“Whoa, what’s the matter, doll face?”

“Don’t call me that. I’m here to take your order, not to escort you.”

“Calm down, doll. I ain’t saying that at all. I’m just stating the obvious.”

“Well, you better keep your mouth to yourself because I don’t like those nicknames and if you’re not going to make an order, then I suggest you leave.”

“Well, this is a public place, ain’t it? Anyone can be here whenever they want as long as the sign on the door says open.”

He was right. You shouldn’t be rude to a customer, but again, you weren’t going to let him or anyone walk over you. But you tried to regain your composure and tried to act decently again, “fine, what would you like to order, sir?”

“Sir… I like that. I’ll take one cup of espresso, please, darling.” He winked at you and grinned a Cheshire cat smile. “Be cool, he’s a customer. Be cool, he’s a customer. Be cool, he’s a customer.” You reminded yourself. “Just serve his orders and you won’t have to deal with him ever again… At least for today.”

“Alright. What about you?” You directed your attention to Steve and Sam.

“Americano, please.” You noted down Sam’s order. “And you?” You moved to Steve. “Just black ma’am. Thank you.” You noted that down also.

“I’ll be right back with your orders.” You immediately walked away and went back to the kitchen where you were going to make their coffees. Only after a few steps away from them, you heard the faint, yet bold voice of Bucky. “Feisty... Think I like this one.”

-

Since that fortunate day, Bucky never stopped bothering you, even though you persisted on rejecting him, but he wouldn’t take no for an answer. He kept on visiting you at the bakery store, annoying you whilst you were busy taking customers’ orders or helping Wanda out in the kitchen. He even went as far as insolently knocking on your door at night whilst you were having a movie night with your parents in the living room.

“What the hell? What are you doing here?!” You spoke in a hushed tone, but you glared at him. How the fuck did Bucky find your resident?

“Wanted to see you, doll. Thought you’d give me a different answer if I had visited you at your place rather than the shop.” He leaned into the frame of the door. Meanwhile, your mother in the background was not making the situation any easier, “who is that, honey?”

“Nobody…”

“What? Is it a false address?”

“Yeah…”

Amidst the turmoil of trying to get rid of Bucky and convincing your mother, you didn’t notice that Bucky was audaciously eyeing you up and down for you were clad in nothing but a white tank top and pyjama shorts with a thin cardigan cloaking you as an outer.

“Never seen you in something so scanty before, you look better like this.” There is that presumptuous smirk again.

You realized he wasn’t going to leave anytime soon for the persistent douche he was, so you shut the door behind you and stepped outside to your porch. “What the hell? You can not just come into my house uninvited! And most importantly, how did you even know where I live?!”

“I have eyes in the sky and ears all over town.”

You groaned and rolled your eyes.

“If you want me to leave, you gotta say yes to a date. Just one date, doll.”

“No.” You resolutely gritted.

“Fine, then I’ll just stand here all night, maybe even flaunt my singing skill and wake the entire neighbourhood, until you say yes.” He started singing a song that you didn’t know, like a drunken teenage boy at a bar. He didn’t even hesitate in turning up his volume and it immediately made you panic.

“Shh! Okay, fine. I’ll go on a date with you. Just please, stop causing a scene. My parents will call the cops on you if they saw you here.”

“Of course, still the uptight rich people, I see.”

“You gotta leave. Now.” You started pushing him, even though he barely moved an inch for he was stronger and bigger than you.

“7 PM, tomorrow. I’ll pick you up on my bike.”

“Okay, go!” You shoved him mildly to get him off your veranda.

He yielded then began moving to where he parked. He hopped on his bike and revived the engine as took one last glance at you, “can’t wait to see you all dressed up for me, doll.” He winked and geared on the asphalt road.

And the rest was history.

And now, here you were, two months later, sitting on the back of his bike, with your chest pressed against his broad back, as he cruised through the open road under the glow of the moon.

You hugged Bucky tighter as he sped up. The feel of his warmth against you relinquished all the burden and the mundanity of the small-town life were omitted.

“Where are we going?” You gritted.

“You’ll see. If I tell you now, it ain’t going to be a surprise.” His tone detonated, trying to overpower the din of the wind.

Typical Bucky. Even after you were his for two months, he was still coming up with inventive ways to impress you. It’s the little things and modest ways he did that pulled you into him like a magnet. The sugarcoated words he effortlessly spoke, the kisses his ingenious lips left on you and the iniquitous way he touched you when you were making passionate love… It captivated you like a firework show.

Bucky took you that night to a secluded hill, in the outskirts of town where there were barely any people passing by. You had snuck out earlier, cautiously not to jolt your parents up as Bucky noiselessly waited for you outside. You felt like recalcitrant teenagers recklessly in love. And maybe you were at that moment.

“Let’s go on a ride tonight, doll. I’ll be here by midnight. Be ready, princess.” He urged you on the phone earlier.

The midnight was besieged by stillness and nothing but the sonances of crickets. Bucky lifted the seat of his bike and retrieved the plaid picnic blanket from inside.

He placed it on the lawn and he laid down with you in his arms. You placed your head on his chest as you curled up to him and fitted your entire height in the blanket.

“Look at those stars…” Bucky pointed at the sprinkled constellation adorning the royal blue sky. “Beautiful, aren’t they?”

“Yeah, they are.” You paused. For a moment there was only the sound of you and Bucky’s slow breathing and steady heartbeat humming in your ear. Then you filled in the silence with the sentimentality of your childhood your mind recalled. It’s really difficult not to open up when you are this close to him.

“When I was a little girl, I used to pretend that those stars would follow me wherever I go like they were my little guardian angels. And whenever I’m sad or afraid, I’d look outside my window and feel safe.”

“You still do that?” He breathed into your hair as he played with some of the strands. He tenderly caressed the back of your head with his indurated fingers that you had memorized every inch of.

“Of course not.” You slightly chuckled in disbelief at his question.

“Good, cause as long as you got me, you don’t ever have to feel sad or afraid again, doll.”

“Is that a promise?”

“It’s an oath. And I’ve got a lifetime to prove my words to you.”

You thanked your lucky stars that night, as they watched over you and Bucky like the angels taking over the form of flickering stellar in the sky. You always thought you knew where your future was heading and had your plans laid out immaculately in front of you until Bucky came along like a whirlwind sweeping away all your scribbled notes and took your hand to walk through every second with him.

And for the first time in forever, you weren’t rushing to be in another place or calculating your next move. For the first time, you think you were content enough to stay.

[m-oana-archive]

A Love Too Heavy (For Just One To Hold)  pt. 1

Pairing: Sirius Black x Reader x Remus Lupin

Words: 2,461 

Summary: After pining after Y/N for years, Sirius finally gets the girl: the happy ending the story is supposed to end with.  The only problem is the fact Sirius' feelings for Remus still haven't seemed to go away.  But he isn't the only one starting to question their ability to love two people at the same time.

requested by @shinysilverunicorn-blog​  | read on AO3 | Masterlist 

Sirius’ POV 

Spring was full and bright all around Hogwarts. The chirp of birds rhythmically punctuated the soft breezes that tossed up ponytails and rustled seeds off of daffodils. While most of the students in the courtyard were staring at all of these beauties of early April, Sirius was busy studying the light breathing of his girlfriend’s breathing while she slept, head resting on his leg.

Y/N was undeniably beautiful, even without the fascinating contrast of light and shadow passing over her face from the evermoving clouds in the sky. Sirius noticed it the first moment he saw her. Despite the crowd of students at the Sorting Ceremony and the grandeur of the Great Hall, the thing Sirius couldn’t keep his eyes off of was a girl who was sorted into Slytherin. It was enough to make him upset to have been sorted into Gryffindor; luckily, his new friends were rewarded enough for being covered in gold and red.

Hogwarts was just large enough that Sirius’ path never truly crossed with Y/N’s during first year, but just small enough that he’d see her across courtyards or libraries: a rude reawakening of his crush. He pushed it off, learning about his roommates instead; Peter had never been out of the country, Remus had a big appetite for chocolate, James really did need his glasses, Remus always put his right shoe on before his left, Peter talked in his sleep and James tossed and turned in his, Remus had read every book known to man, James loved puns, Remus liked sly remarks (and was good at making them), Peter preferred biking places, and Remus drank most everything out of his assortment of mugs.

It wasn’t until second year that Remus had class with Y/N: herbology. Never did he think he’d enjoy plants so much, but he entered the greenhouse skipping. While he was slow to break the house pride divide, when it was first demanded that the students find partners from another house “to learn how to cooperate with people that have different strengths,” Sirius was quick to find an open spot by Y/N’s side.

“Finally,” she said. “I’ve caught you staring at me before. I’ve been wondering if I resemble some second cousin of yours that got kicked out of the family for something.”

“No. You’re far too pretty to be mistaken for poor old Wilbur.”

She brushed off the compliment: “That sounds like a pig’s name.” But she was blushing.

“Why do you think he got kicked out? He was a pig!”

The grin that formed during the exchange lasted for the rest of the day.

“Mate, you better be careful,” James warned at dinner, the chicken dangling out of his mouth wildly contradicting his tone. “You don’t want to seem too eager.”

Sirius’ eyes darted from Y/N to James. “Me? Too eager? What, have I turned into a mirror?”

Peter sniggered; Remus shot a secret smile Sirius’ way, the one that meant good job, you amused me. “What’s that supposed to mean,” James whined.

“Have you seen yourself around you-know-who?”

“I thought we agreed to call her she-who-must-not-be-named. It’s much more mysterious.”

“We could call her by her name if you had the guts to go after her,” Remus added nonchalantly. Sirius looked at him to give him the same smile of appreciation Sirius had gotten but moments earlier.

“It’s my safety feature,” James said. “If I had balls, I’d be irresistible.”

Peter almost choked on his potatoes. Which were mashed.

“Well I do have balls,” Sirius argued. “So I am irresistible.”

And irresistible he was. Sirius wasn’t sure what exactly it was: the “don’t give two fucks” demeanor, the fact he was an extremely amateur electric guitarist, his perpetually unlaced combat boots, or the fact he had a naturally flirtatious personality (he even flirted with James and Peter for fun), but people batted eyelashes and bit lips and blushed up their necks. By year four, Sirius realized he could almost get anything by calling someone “love” or “darling” in the right way. Essays were written and proofread, reading was skimmed then recapped, Butterbeer was sent to tables free of charge. By year five, Sirius found that some first-years were betting on which of them could get Sirius to ask them out. By year six, it seemed as though Sirius had all of Hogwarts under his finger.

Except, of course, Y/N. When Sirius would widen his eyes and part his lips in pleading, Y/N would just shove the parchment, quills, and ink back into his lap.

“I have my own work to do, Sirius,” Y/N scolded, burying her head back into her textbook. “If you do it with me, like Rem, I’ll help and discuss. But I’m not going to risk my grade for you.”

Sirius grinned, hiding the fact his stomach turned at Remus’ name. At Remus’ lack of acknowledgment of the compliment; he was sitting next to Y/N, also engrossed in reading, not nearly happy enough to be wanted by someone as amazing as her. He had to clear his throat to ask, “Am I really not worth the risk?”

Without taking a beat to pause, she responded, “Not really, considering I already have all of your attention, anyways.” Remus looked up at that comment, staring at Sirius with a smirk. Sirius gave him an obviously fake smile, teeth gritted and eyes dark, which automatically disintegrated when Remus threw a spare quill at him.

Sirius’ frustration wasn’t momentary; Y/N’s words were like a spell stuck in his head, floating around, never settling. It was true: although she was a constant presence in his daily life, Y/N quipped and quarreled with him like she was James or Peter. Was it because he would give her more of his hours than a day could provide? Because he’d so obviously drop anything to help her without any explanation needed? Because, even after so many years and so many beautiful people with lovely souls and smiles, Sirius would still choose her, each and every time?

Was his ardent desire the one thing pushing her away?

Sleep was futile after that comment, leaving Sirius tossing around his bed like a hurricane. His mattress creaked below him with every overexaggerated movement. After about half an hour of this, a shadow formed above his tired—but sleepless—eyes. Sirius opened them to Remus standing there, coat on over his pyjamas.

“Sneak out with me?” he grinned.

“But of course.”

They took the invisibility cloak and went to Black Lake, their usual spot. The cold air helped numb Sirius’ aching tiredness, beginning to match his energy level with his inability to sleep. Even when he sat down on dewy grass next to Remus, he felt endlessly more awake.

“You kept moving in your bed,” Remus said, looking straight out towards the lake. “Want to tell me what’s wrong?”

Yes, Sirius’ insides gasped. Yes, because you’re a good listener and my best friend.

Outwardly, Sirius matched Remus’ indifference. “You don’t want to know.”

Remus looked at him. But it felt more like through him, through his flesh and bones, to the heart pumping and beating and quaking. “What do you know about what I want?”

Remus’ eyes looked like the lake they were sitting in front of: deep, beautiful, dancing with the glittery reflection of starlight. Suddenly, Sirius was aware of how close they were sitting to one another. Suddenly, his heart wasn’t only beating and pumping and quaking, but skipping beats.

Because, if Sirius was being honest with himself, there wasn’t always only one person. Of course, Y/N caught his eye first, but seeing her was a rare phenomenon at first, only becoming a constant enough to be a reason for Sirius to wake up everyday during third year. But since the beginning there was Remus Lupin. Remus, who had a big appetite for chocolate, always put his right shoe on before his left, had read every book known to man, liked sly remarks and was good at making them, and drank most everything out of his assortment of mugs. Remus, who had a talent for making him feel happy, be it through a crude joke or a secret smile or a quill to the head.

Remus, who he had been this close to kissing before. At some party in fourth year, when everyone was too young to have alcohol but still acted drunk, and people were playing spin the bottle. On his turn, he spun, and the neck of the bottle missed Remus by something Sirius had naively labeled “luck.”

“It’s a pity,” Remus teased. “I’d be a good snog, you know.”

Now, almost three years later, Sirius was finally ready to believe him.

But, in fear of wanting too much, too many, two, Sirius turned away. “I know what I want,” he lied, stupidly, desperately, painfully.

Not wanting to have ruined his friendship for nothing, the next day, he found Y/N and asked her to Hogsmeade that weekend.

“With James and Peter and Rem—”

“No,” Sirius said, shaking his head. “Just the two of us.”

“Oh.”

“Listen, I don’t know what you think about how I’ve treated you for the past few years, but God, Y/N, I just… I’ve liked you so much since the moment we met. And I just didn’t know how to act around you except being my normal arsehole self—which is no excuse to have been an arse, I know— but you just always… you’ve never let me catch up to how I feel about you.”

Y/N was laughing. Was this just some sick joke to her? Sirius went to open his mouth again, but before he could, she was saying, “I guess that’s better than hiding it in a diary and pretending it's not real.”

Sirius narrowed his eyes. “Wait. You can’t… do you really feel the same?”

“Sirius, you are a massive—” Y/N said, while taking his hand in hers, “—absolute, oblivious, fool. Why would anyone hang out with you willingly if they weren’t totally weak for you?”

Sirius laughed. Part of it was joy that he got to squeeze Y/N’s hand in his, feel it, hold it, support it. But part of it was false; for, that statement could apply to Y/N as much as it could apply to Remus.

Now, a few months later, Sirius and Y/N had had their first date, first kiss, first night together, full of writhing and gasping and “I love you’s” mouthed directly onto skin. Every time he looked at her, he still saw her as the breathtaking girl across the dining hall at the Sorting Ceremony, as tough his eyes were time capsules incapable of encapsulating the beauty of what they held. Maybe he kept her at a distance subconsciously. Maybe it was because he knew he wasn’t ready for the kind of relationship he wanted to have with her. Or maybe, he knew having her love would feel too real to fathom, too large to hold, and he couldn’t manage to make himself do it until there were no other options than to get past the fear and learn to carry the love he used to secrete.

Even while looking at her now, he was in awe.

Even while looking at her now, he couldn’t help but wonder what would have happened if he had kissed Remus the night before.

Perhaps things would be less tense now; the dorm room would be wordless if it weren’t for James’ nonsensical but necessary blabber and Peter’s desire to talk whenever an awkward silence broke. Perhaps it would be as loud as it used to be (if not louder, for obvious reasons) if Sirius hadn’t so obviously turned himself away from something he wasn’t against as much as afraid of. Perhaps, more than the kiss itself, Sirius now longed for a bit of normalcy, wishing he could have both the girl of his dreams and his best friend. Be it in the same way, in different ways…

Sirius was so deep in thought he didn’t realize he was staring across the courtyard with narrowed eyes and that Y/N had wordlessly awoken from her slumber. Both of these realizations happened at once, when Sirius felt a touch to the bridge of his nose that didn’t come from his own fingers.

He looked down to a Y/N happy enough to be faking a pout. “What’s that for?” she asked, referencing the furrow between his brow she had helped calm.

Sirius sighed. His hand rose to lift Y/N’s finger off of his face, directing it to slip into the crooks between his fingers instead. Despite the apparent intimacy of the gesture, Sirius was removed; if he felt more comfortable, his eyes would meet Y/N’s, which they couldn’t do. “I just feel… I don’t know why, Y/N, but I really think, for some reason, Moony’s angry with me.”

“Oh.” Now the frown was real. “Do you really not know why, or is this one of those ‘I don’t want to admit I did something wrong’ moments?”

“Come again?”

Y/N sat up, making it more difficult to avoid her eyes. “I just feel like you both know one another awfully well for you to not know how you could make the other mad.”

“I guess,” Sirius blew out a breath, “We, um, argued… and both took it more seriously than we needed to. Now neither of us will crack first.” It wasn’t far from the truth: both of them had taken that moment with immense weight in the way it shifted the dynamic of their relationship, and now, neither of them wanted to bring it up to the other.

“You’re both mature enough to have that conversation,” Y/N complimented.

“Yeah. I just think he’s not done cooling down from it. I don’t want to push him again too soon.” Again, not far from the truth. But it was still a lie. A second lie, which worried Sirius in the ease of its formulation and distribution.

“Well, I’m headed to study with him now. So if you want, I can ask some not-very-sly-because-they’re-far-too-pointed questions.”

Sirius finally met Y/N’s eyes; now, it was she who was wearing a tense brow. Sirius echoed her previous movement to relax the spot before kissing it. “Would you do that for me?”

“But of course,” Y/N smiled, standing up. She collected a few things from the ground: her cardigan, her bookbag, a dandelion. She held it up to Sirius’ mouth. “Wish me luck?”

Sirius blew and watched the seeds dance around him. But, if he was being honest with himself, he wasn’t quite sure what he was wishing for.

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Pt. 2 NOW AVAILABLE! read here 

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Taglist (let me know if you want to be added): @siriuslyimmoony @astertist @who-cares-unknown @neewtmas @sjriusblck @boring-viola @moonlitdiggory @gryffndor @themarauderstheoutsidersandpeggy @the-apple-princess @sly-vixen-up2nogood @bluemadcnna @lonelyheart-jadedsoul @starlitfawkes @swellwriting @young7711 @fandomsxo @kar-loves-you @some-blondes-unicorn @bethanystan @starlitfawkes @jamcspotters @siriusoricns  @swellwriting