#moony wc

[clanslist]

[rafey-baby]

older!rafe can’t always be mean to his delicate flower, can he?

c/w: fluff with a little bit of angst in the beginning, rafe feeding sensitive!reader pasta, slight subspace, smut: oral (f receiving), overstimulation, use of daddy & dad, 18+ mdni!

wc: 2k

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

Sock-covered feet pad along the hardwood floors when she finally hears the lock of the front door turning. Rafe’s home later than usual— a fact she’s entirely too aware of since she’s been impatiently waiting for him to return ever since he left her this morning without so much as a goodbye.  

Usually, she’d stir awake to him smearing kisses all over her face and mumbling sweetened words about how much he’s going to miss her during his meetings— sometimes even wake her up with his cock prodding at her entrance before fucking her all sleepy and sloppy until she’s a sobbing mess.   

However, she assumes he was still mad at her because she forgot to let him know she was going out for drinks after her lecture before her battery had died. Therefore, she hadn’t received his several calls or the texts filled with concern and only a few hours later, did she remember that she’d never actually sent the message regarding her whereabouts.  

When he came to pick her up after she’d borrowed her friend’s phone in order to reach him, he was clearly displeased; merely muttering out a “ask you to do one thing and you can’t even do that. You know how fuckin’ worried I was?” and crudely telling her to go sleep in the guest room because “daddy doesn’t feel like dealing with your shit tonight”, which had resulted in wet droplets surfacing to her waterline while she kept apologizing over and over again, but to no avail.   

In the morning, she’d woken up to a tear-stained pillowcase and a headache. And when she tiptoed over to the bathroom, she realized that the entire house was desolate; he hadn’t even left a note.   

Therefore, she’s not exactly sure how to approach him, hesitant in her movements before she sees him in front of her in all his glory.   

“Hi,” her voice is quiet, but her forlorn face lights up nonetheless. 

Rafe is in the process of mindlessly kicking off his shoes when he looks up; a tired smile tugging at his lips when she practically tumbles into his arms in a greeting.  

“Missed you,” she mumbles against his crisp button up when he rests his big hands on her hips in an attempt to steady her.   

“Missed you too,” he murmurs into her hair. “Got you somethin’,” he reluctantly pulls away in order to present her with a bouquet of pink lilies; her favorites.  

“What’s this for?” her moony eyes stare up at him in bewilderment.  

“Drove past a flower shop…guess they made me think of you,” he admits, pressing a soft kiss to her cheek; confusing her to no end.  

“But I thought—” she utters out, hesitant to take the flowers she feels unworthy of.   

“That I was mad at you?”   

She nods, looking up at him with guilt swimming in her eyes.  

He lets out a sigh.  

“Listen, I was, uh, maybe a little too harsh on you last night, okay? I know how forgetful you can be. Was just worried when you weren’t home and didn’t answer your phone until hours later. Thought somethin’ happened, you know?” he explains with a calmness that placates her racing mind as she accepts his gift.   

“I know, m’sorry. Won’t happen again, promise. Texted you today the second I was home, right?”   

“You did,” he confirms as he peels off his suit jacket before sniffing the air. “Smells good, what’re you making?”   

“Oh, I made you dinner,” she says bashfully, almost as if waiting for his approval.  

“You did? All by yourself?” his brows climb his forehead in surprise.   

She nods, a soft smile on her lips before he’s ushering her towards the kitchen and plucking a glass vase from the top shelf for her. 

Usually, he’s the one cooking for them since she’s not greatest in the kitchen, always so tired after studying the whole day, she’d probably forget the stove on and cause some sort of a fire due to her absentminded nature. Therefore, he prefers to prepare his girl a nurturing meal whenever he doesn’t have to work late.   

“How was uni today?” he asks as she sets the now flower-filled vase on their dining table.  

“A lot. Was kinda stressed the whole day cause I have so much homework and reading to do, don’t know how I’m supposed to have time for all of it. And then have this group project and the deadline for this essay approaching and…I don’t think my brain works anymore,” she sighs out when she peers down at the steaming bowl of spaghetti Bolognese he places on the counter.   

“Good thing you don’t need to worry that head of yours over anythin’ with me. Let dad do the thinking for you, yeah?” Rafe’s voice is as smooth as honey, causing her to blink up at him— something cottony dusting over her mind in response to his sugary cadence.   

Strong arms lift her up and place her on the marble countertop before he settles right between her thighs, like a puzzle piece she’s been missing the entire day; tall frame hovering over her even as she’s practically perched on a pedestal.   

Then, he’s picking up the plate in the most casual manner and contently shoving a forkful of pasta into his mouth before groaning in satisfaction.   

“Shit, this is amazin’,” he praises around the mouthful.   

She mumbles out a flustered thank you, her thoughts all over the place since she thought he’d still be mad, but then suddenly he’s not. In fact, he’s seemingly in a great mood.   

“Did you eat yet?”  

“No, was, um…waiting for you. Didn’t wanna eat alone,” her volume is nearly inaudible. 

He stops chewing.   

“Waitin’ for me, huh?” he rasps out before he’s lifting the fork closer to her mouth.   

She looks up at him, puzzled.   

“Open,” he orders and she has no choice but to obey— let him feed her because truthfully, whenever she’s around him she gets a little dumb; can’t really focus on anything except his low drawl and gemstone eyes.   

“Good, right?”  

She hums her agreement around the bite, barely registering that some of the tomato sauce stains her chin in the process.   

“Always so messy, huh?” he tuts disapprovingly, even if he’s the one holding the fork.   

However, before her mushy brain has the time to even comprehend what he’s doing, he’s laving the flat of his tongue under her mouth; cleaning it up for her.   

“There we go,” he murmurs as he rubs a thumb over the spot for good measure.   

She swallows.   

“Want some water?” he asks and she nods, all of a sudden unable to utter out words.  

Then, he’s tipping a glass of ice-cold water to her lips, carefully watching her gulp down the liquid before he decides she’s had enough— withdrawing the cup in order to drink some of it himself.    

He continues feeding her every other bite and making casual conversation, all the while she feels herself softly slipping into a very specific headspace. And before she realizes, he’s placing the empty dish in the sink with a slight clatter; their bellies full and happy.    

She doesn’t think she wants to eat by herself ever again.  

Then, her foggy mind registers him in front of her again as he pulls her closer— warm palms slipping under her top and his thumbs idly smoothing over her tummy while she quietly stares at him with hearts for eyes.  

“You put this tiny thing on just for me, hm?” he questions as his eyes drop down to her cleavage; the pale pink lace doing a very poor job of concealing what’s underneath since she’s forgone a bra (and pants), as she usually does whenever she’s merely loitering around their home.  

“Look so pretty in this,” his dreamy voice rumbles as he swipes a thumb over a covered nipple, causing her to let out a faint gasp at the sudden contact.  

“Ray…” she hums out while he keeps rubbing over the squishy part of her body he knows gets her buzzing.  

“Hm? You feelin’ floaty already?” he asks with a gentle cadence. And she’s not sure how he always seems to know just the right words to say in order to turn her into clay.   

“Yeah, missed you so much,” her hazy eyes flicker over his face while he simply gazes at her, before he’s smearing his mouth on hers.   

There’s something hungry, primal in the way he groans against her lips— causing a whimper to escape her throat in response.  

Then, all of a sudden, he’s lifting her over his shoulder as if she weighs nothing more than a single paperclip; making her squeak out a sound of surprise when he jokingly smacks her ass while walking out of the room before throwing her on the bed.   

“Let daddy say hi to his favorite girl, yeah?” he coaxes her before he’s prying her thighs apart and nuzzling his face into her cunt through the material of her panties; nose bumping against her clit, making her shift closer to him.  

“Missed my pussy so much, you know? Wanted to fuck you nice ’n slow last night but you never came home.”   

“M’sorry, daddy,” she can’t help but whimper out when his warm tongue licks over the already dampening fabric of her underwear.   

“Yeah? You gon’ make it up to me? Let me eat you ’till I forgive you?”  

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever you want,” she blabbers, a whine leaving her vocal cords when he plucks the soaked through material to the side and blowson her sensitive cunt.   

“Shit, you’re so wet already,” he says in awe, letting spit drip down his tongue and onto her folds anyway. Then, he’s wrapping his lips around her clit, making her cry out because she can already feel her orgasm lingering underneath the surface.  

“Need to come, can I? Please m’gonna— ” she says, almost in a trance; already so wound up. And the way he’s practically torturing her achy button with his mouth isn’t really helping.  

After he’s hummed his agreement, she’s not able to hold it in any longer— his tongue poking at her opening when the knot in her belly unfolds. She’s shaking, thighs yearning to close, if not for his strong arms holding them open as he groans around her, seemingly lost in a daze with her taste and smell practically suffocating him.  

Since he knows how insatiable she tends to be, he refuses to pull away from between her thighs. And two more orgasms later, she’s a whimpering muddle; desperately trying to drag her hips away from his unrelenting hold. However, he’s entirely too strong and she doesn’t stand a chance. 

“Ray, s’too much, need a break—” she complains, eyes beginning to turn watery in response to the overwhelming pressure.  

However, despite her protests, he doesn’t stop. Instead, he begins to mess with her entirely too sensitive clit with his fingers now— pressing and pulling and making her whine as tears trickle down her cheeks and she tries to fruitlessly wiggle away from him once more.    

“Nah, you’re good, dad wants you to give him a few more, think you can do that?” he mumbles against her sticky folds, stuffing the tip of his tongue into her weepy hole as an effort to persuade her.  

“I don’t know if I can—”  

“Shh, jus’ wanna make you feel nice, you don’t want me to?” he feigns hurt when he lifts up his head, beginning to mouth over the soft skin of her inner thighs to pacify her; his slight stubble tickling her in the process and making her twitch.  

“No, I do, I do…”   

“Then quit whinin’ and let me take care of you, hm? Show you how much I love you,” he coaxes her to give in. And when he puts it like that, she thinks it does sound rather romantic. 

[rainydayathogwarts]

After curfew - harry potter

concussions and interruptions au summary: you and harry seem to forget his godfather is doing rounds when you sneak out after curfew (everyone is alive and well) wc: 0.7k+

You giggled as Harry’s hair tickled your cheeks, lips parting to let your boyfriend deepen the kiss. His kisses tasted of lemon drops and butterbeer, a spoiler of the day he had with his friends, but you were happy he was all yours for now. Away from the wandering eyes of talkative students and whispering portraits. The cold night's wind attacked you from every direction and you shuddered, but Harry pulled you closer to him and his warm touch.

Harry didn’t break the kiss as he unravelled his scarf from around his neck to wrap around yours, his gloved hands cupping your cold-to-the-touch cheeks. You snaked your arms around his waist from the front of his open jacket so they rested between the warm layers of clothes he wore. “Should come better prepared next time.” Harry mumbled, walking you a couple of steps backwards so your back rested against the bridge’s wooden railing. “Gives me an excuse to be clingy.” You replied against his lips with a bashful giggle. “You don’t need excuses to be clingy.” Harry insisted softly as he pressed a short kiss to your lips, pulling away to look at you with a look of adoration.

“I love you, Harry.” You said, tugging him back into the kiss before he could reply. Harry tried breaking the kiss to reply, but you wouldn’t let him make space between your lips, so he just mumbled into the kiss a wordless jumble of “I love you more.” You giggled happily, and Harry seized the opportunity to slide his tongue into your mouth, expelling a satisfied moan from your lips.

Harry couldn’t help but smile at the soft noise you made, one hand leaving your cheek to find home in the back pocket of your jeans and pulling you impossibly closer to him. You gasped in surprise, opening your eyes suddenly only to welcome the darkness of hogwarts’s nocturnal autumns. You closed your eyes again, letting yourself melt against your boyfriend’s chest, his gentle touch serenading you into a calm state that almost had you forgetting your worries of being caught outside after curfew.

Luckily for you, there was something else to remind you of your rule-breaking activities. A sharp cough had Harry breaking away from the kiss, his eyes snapping open as he spun around to face whoever had caught you, though his hands stayed in position on your body. You felt the blood drain from your face as you took in the sight of your Professor, pushing Harry’s hands off your body. “Uncle Moony!” Harry greeted, a nervous tone lacing his voice.

Harry’s godfather stood with his hands sassily placed on his hips, a mix between a disapproving and amused look on his face. “Harry.” Professor Lupin replied, barely glancing in your direction.

“I’m assuming you know what time it is.”

“Actually I’ve got no idea, I’ve been pretty busy.”

You gasped in horror, a hand coming up to sharply hit Harry’s bicep. Lupin didn’t try to hide the exasperated smile from coming onto his face, but it didn’t seem to be because of Harry’s comment. “Your parents are going to love this one.” He muttered, well aware that he had the upper hand in the situation.

At his godfather’s comment, Harry’s face turned into one of panic, shaking his head frantically as he pleaded “Don’t tell my parents!” “Professor Lupin, please don’t tell his parents!” As though just remembering you were there, Remus’s head snapped towards you, a surprised look on his face. “It’s going to make such a bad impression on them if they hear that story a week before I’m supposed to properly meet them! That first time was a complete disaster!”

Remus hummed in surprise “A week, eh? Didn’t think you’d do it so soon after the little hospital wing incident. So have you told your parents you’re dating my godson?” If you weren’t panicked before, you definitely were now, watching the man in front of you switch so easily from being your professor to your boyfriend’s godfather. You shook your head slowly, mumbling “You know how they are.” Remus nodded, “I do. Can’t say I had the pleasure of being their classmate, because it wasn’t a pleasure.” You threw your hands out “Exactly! You get it!”

Harry wrapped an arm around your waist, pressing a kiss to your cheek. “Doesn’t mean she can’t get to know mum and dad. Please don’t tell them, Remus.” The scarred man hummed, gesturing to the end of the bridge and towards the castle. “Get to bed, both of you. I won’t tell them.

Yet.”

[colouredbyd]

“Tell Me You Will Believe Me”

poly!marauders x fem!reader

summary: Your visions as a Seer used to be harmless—until they turned dark. Now, you find yourself caught between protecting the people you love and the terrifying truth only you can see.

wc: 3.6k

warnings: emotional abuse, graphic violence, dark themes, angst, betrayal, emotional withdrawal, mental health struggles (anxiety, depression), trauma, past trauma, death of a loved one, remus being a sweetheart, visions of future tragedy, so much hurt/comfort, LOTS of angst but then happy ending <3

authors note: i should be studying but this idea has been on my mind for weeks so i decided to just write it, enjoy the major angst with comfort. Im trying to test my skills, idk should i do part 2 or leave the ending like this?

part 2 masterlist

It started slowly. Almost imperceptibly.

At first, you skipped breakfast. Said you’d meet them later in class. You didn’t.

Then you stopped holding Sirius’s hand in the hallways. Your fingers used to seek his like a reflex—lacing together as naturally as breath. Until one day, his hand brushed yours and you flinched, pretending not to notice. He didn’t say anything, just shoved his hands into his pockets and looked away.

You stopped waiting for James after class too. Where once you leaned against the wall with a playful grin, teasing him about being late, now you left as soon as the bell rang. “Thought you’d already gone,” you’d lie, when he showed up confused and breathless, eyes searching the corridor for you.

You started skipping Hogsmeade weekends, claiming migraines, unfinished essays, fatigue. “I’ll just stay in and rest,” you’d say, brushing kisses onto their cheeks like goodbyes. “You go. Have fun my love.”

They noticed, of course. The boys weren’t blind.

But you were clever.

You still smiled when spoken to. Still said “love you” back. Still sat beside them at meals—even if you barely touched your food, barely looked up, barely breathed. You learned how to be present without being there. An echo. A ghost in your own skin.

The boys watched you like you were slipping underwater, helpless to stop it.

One evening, James sat beside you on the Gryffindor common room couch, his voice low and joking, “You’ve got this whole ‘mysterious tragic poet’ thing going on lately baby. Should we be worried?”

You forced a laugh. “I just haven’t been sleeping well.”

He smiled at you, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “We miss you.”

“I’m right here, Jamie,” you whispered.

-

The smell of fire, of burning flesh. Someone’s laugh twists into a scream that ends too fast.

-

But you weren’t. Not really.

“Take her and RUN, Sirius!” Remus roars, storming forward and grabbing him by the collar, shoving him back like the fire behind him hasn’t already started swallowing everything whole. “NOW!”

There’s blood in Remus’s mouth when he speaks, on his hands when he clutches Sirius, on his temple where something struck too hard, too fast. His lips are trembling but his eyes are terrifying—brighter than the firelight. They burn with something final.

“Moony—” Sirius chokes, voice hoarse with panic, tears already rising. “I can’t—”

“THERE’S NO TIME!” Remus howls, like it’s killing him to say it. “You don’t look back. You don’t come back. You take her and you fucking run, do you hear me? You keep her safe—Sirius, please—

-

-

“Hey hey hey pretty girl, look at me breathe for me come on.”

Sirius’s voice breaks through your fog. He’s kneeling in front of you now, his dark eyes wide with concern. “What’s wrong? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

Dorca and Peter are there too, hovering close by, their faces twisted in worry. They’re all looking at you, their concern thick in the air.

“Are you alright?” Remus asks, voice soft, but there’s something underlying—something urgent in his tone. He crouches beside you, his eyes searching for an answer you don’t have.

You open your mouth to speak, but no sound comes out. You feel pathetic having a panic attack infront of everyone. The vision’s weight is still on your chest, pressing down on you, suffocating you. It feels like the whole world is closing in.

Sirius looks like he might reach for you, but he hesitates, as if afraid to touch you. The intensity of the moment hangs heavy in the air. “You’re scaring me princess.” he says quietly, eyes softening.

And for the first time in days, you feel something like a tremor in your chest—like the weight of their love, their worry, is finally sinking in.

“please just hold me.” you hiccup through sobs, your voice sounding too small, too fragile. But the words feel hollow in your mouth.

And they do, they hold you until you feel safe enough. 

It was Remus who saw through it first.

He’d catch you staring into the fire too long. Flinching when the wind howled against the castle windows. He noticed your fingers trembling when you thought no one was looking. The way your hands hovered just above the boys’ shoulders when they leaned in—like you wanted to touch them, like you were afraid to.

“Are you alright, dove?” he whispered one night, his hand brushing your arm.

You blinked, startled. You hadn’t even noticed him sit beside you.

“Fine,” you said too quickly, too brightly. “Just tired.”

He didn’t believe you. He never did.

But he let you go.

After that, everything became quieter, not the visions though. They got worse, more clear, and more horrifying. 

You stopped calling Sirius by his stupid nicknames. No more “Padfoot,” no more “Starboy.” Just “Sirius,” plain and clipped.

You forgot James’s birthday. The guilt nearly ate you alive, even as you watched him pretend not to be disappointed.

You stopped reading with Remus at night. Once, you’d fall asleep curled against his chest while he read aloud, voice soft and warm against your temple. Now, you claimed headaches. Stayed in your bed. Doors locked.

They started whispering when they thought you couldn’t hear.

“She doesn’t laugh anymore,” James murmured one night.

“I think she’s scared,” Sirius replied. “Of what, I don’t know.”

“Us?” Remus said quietly.

-

-

“They know. They know, James—run!” and then footsteps and a crash and nothing.

A golden ring in a pool of blood. The sound of Sirius sobbing into Remus’s shirt. “They said she was dead. They said—”

Remus’s breath on your neck. “Run.”

 Smoke curling under a door you don’t recognize.

The sound of chains dragging across stone. Always the chains.

Blood on parchment.

Your name scrawled across it again and again and again.

-

-

You pretended you were asleep, but your pillow was wet.

Until one night, Sirius finally snapped.

You were halfway through dinner in the Great Hall when he slammed his goblet down and growled, “Alright, what the hell’s going on with you?”

You blinked, startled.

“You don’t look at us anymore,” he hissed. “You don’t touch us. You barely speak. If you want to leave, just say so, but stop pretending everything’s fine.”

“I don’t want to leave,” you said, voice breaking.

“You already have.”

And when you looked at him—really looked—you saw it: the shadow of his future, the one you’d dreamed a hundred times. Screaming behind bars. Eyes hollow.

You turned away. “Please. Just let it go.”

And he did. Because even angry, Sirius would always choose you. Always love you, even when it tore him apart.

Then weeks turned into a month.

Then a month turned into two. 

And you kept fading—slowly, quietly, like death by a thousand unspoken words.

Until Remus couldn’t take it anymore.

Until that night in the library when he found you curled into yourself like a broken star, and you shattered in his arms and told him everything.

You were in the library at nearly midnight—eyes hollow, curled in the farthest back corner like you were trying to vanish into the stone.

You didn’t hear Remus at first.

But suddenly, he was there—standing in front of you, pale and shaking, with something desperate in his eyes.

“You’re done hiding.”

His voice trembled. You looked up, startled.

“I tried to give you space,” he said quietly. “I tried to trust you. Its been two months and 4 days (Y/n). I can’t anymore. You’re fading right in front of me. And I don’t care how much you lie and pretend you’re okay—you’re not.”

You stood too fast, the chair scraping behind you. “Please, just let it go rem.”

“No, dammit!” he snapped. “You shut us out. You stopped letting us love you. You look at James like you’re already mourning him. You look at Sirius like he’s glass. And you haven’t looked at me like anything in weeks.”

Your hands were shaking. “I’m trying to protect you.”

“I don’t want protection, I want you!” he shouted.

The silence that followed was deafening.

His eyes were glistening. “Tell me what’s happening. Even if it hurts. Even if it ruins everything. Please.”

You stared at him, throat tightening, vision blurring. 

Remus’s hands trembled as they gently cupped your face, his eyes searching yours for answers. The weight of everything was pressing down on him now, and he could feel the tension in your body, the way you were holding yourself back.

“Please, just tell me,” he whispered, his voice barely audible, pleading. “I need to know, I need to understand what’s happening to you.”

You closed your eyes, tears brimming, throat tight with the truth you couldn’t bear to say. You’d been holding it in for so long, the fear, the guilt. It was all too much.

“Tell me you will believe me,” you whispered, barely able to get the words out. “Please. Tell me you will believe me.”

Remus’s breath hitched at your words, his grip on your face tightening slightly as if to pull you closer to him, as if to anchor himself to you. His heart was racing now, but his voice was steady. “I will,” he promised, his voice raw with desperation. “I believe you. I always will.”

You sank to the floor, legs giving out, and he followed, arms catching you before you could crumble completely. And then, for the first time in weeks, you told someone the truth.

“I’ve been having visions.”

He froze, but didn’t speak.

The words hung in the air between you like a spell. You couldn’t look at him. You couldn’t face his eyes yet. The silence stretched on, thick and suffocating, but then Remus exhaled like he had been holding his breath too, his hands moving to hold yours tightly.

“What do you mean? Visions?” His voice was filled with concern, but there was something else there—something dark, like he already knew this wasn’t just a simple problem. This wasn’t something you could brush off with a shrug and a laugh.

You pulled your hands away, holding them against your chest, as if protecting yourself from the storm you knew was about to break.

“It’s like—I see things. Fragments. Pieces. But they’re never in order, Remus.” Your voice broke, and you cursed yourself for sounding so weak, for not being able to keep it together just a little longer. “Sometimes, I’m in them. Sometimes, I’m not. But it’s always horrible. Always the same. It’s—it’s the end, Remus. The end of all of us.”

Remus’s eyes never left you. He didn’t interrupt. He didn’t say a word, but his face twisted with confusion and concern, his brow furrowed like he was trying to make sense of the puzzle you were handing him.

“The night we’re all going to die,” you continued, your throat raw. “I’ve seen it, over and over again. I—I see James… He’s screaming. I see Sirius… He’s… he’s not himself. And you’re—” You stopped yourself, unable to finish the sentence, the emotion too raw to put into words. “You’re not there. You’re gone, Remus. And it’s my fault.”

Remus’s face went pale as he absorbed what you were saying, his jaw tightening with the weight of your words. He reached out, his fingers grazing your arm, but you jerked back, your heart racing as you continued, desperate to say it all before it consumed you.

“I’m not always there, but when I am… It’s like I’m not even alive. I watch from some place far away. Sometimes, I see myself dead.” You let out a shaky breath, trying to hold it together. “I see James and Sirius, and I—God, I can’t breathe. I just… I can’t fix it, Remus. I can’t stop it. There’s a traitor, someone in our circle, someone close, and they’re going to betray us. James dies, Sirius gets blamed. They throw him in Azkaban… And I—I get taken, or worse.”

Remus’s hand reached out, but you flinched away, guilt and fear flooding your chest. You couldn’t look at him anymore. You couldn’t look at anyone, not with this knowledge hanging over you.

“I’ve been pushing you all away,” you whispered. “I’m scared, Remus. I’m terrified. I’ve been trying to protect you, to protect all of you. But I can’t stop what’s coming. I can’t stop it. And it’s eating me alive. I’m watching all of us die and I can’t do anything about it.”

Tears welled in your eyes, but you didn’t dare let them fall. You were already too weak. Too broken. You couldn’t bear to show him any more of your fragility.

“Please, Remus, you have to promise me—promise me you won’t tell them.” Your voice was barely a whisper now, a plea. “Not yet. Not until we know what to do. I don’t know how to stop it, but I have to try. I have to do something, and I can’t do it alone.”

His hand was trembling as he cupped your face, lifting it so that you had no choice but to meet his eyes. His gaze was filled with so much pain, but also an understanding that shattered you further.

“Don’t ever think you’re alone in this, dove,” he whispered. “I’m with you. Always. We’ll find a way to stop it.”

You collapsed into his arms then, the sobs you’d been holding in finally breaking free. He held you tight, letting you cry it all out, his hand rubbing your back in comforting circles.

When the tears subsided, he whispered into your head, “ I believe you, dove.”

And in that moment, you finally allowed yourself to believe it too—believe that together, you might still have a chance to rewrite the ending.

The days that followed were desperate, and the sense of dread hung thick in the air.

The Marauders—Sirius, James, and Remus—refused to leave your side. Remus spent hours with you, pushing you to strengthen your Occlumency, your focus unwavering as he guided you through each mental block. His presence was a steady reassurance, though the unspoken tension between you both never quite lifted. The weight of what you’d seen in that vision was suffocating, and you had to push yourself to stay strong for them. For him.

Every moment, every glance you exchanged with your boyfriends felt charged with the weight of a looming secret. You knew things were changing, but you couldn’t tell them yet. Not until you knew the truth.

And so, you turned to your studies, hoping that if you immersed yourself in magic, in spells that might give you a fighting chance, the gnawing fear would subside.

It was a normal evening. The fire crackled merrily in the common room, casting a warm, golden glow over the four of you. Sirius sprawled out on the couch, teasing James as he flicked through a Quidditch magazine, his signature grin pulling at the corners of his lips. James was laughing, leaning over to nudge Sirius, while you and Remus sat across from them, trying to hold onto a semblance of normalcy.

For a fleeting moment, everything felt right. Remus caught your eye from across the room, and his lips curved into a small, reassuring smile. You returned it, but deep inside, the unease never fully disappeared.

“So, how’s the study session going baby?” Sirius asked, turning his head lazily toward you.

“It’s… fine siri.” you replied, your voice betraying none of the storm inside you. “Just trying to get through all this Occlumency nonsense.”

Remus laughed softly, his gaze never straying from you. “You’re doing great. You’re stronger than you think.”

James grinned. “You’re both scary smart,” he said with a wink. “I’ve been trying to catch up, but it’s been a slow process.”

Sirius chuckled, his usual mischievous energy making it feel like everything was just as it should be.

But then, in the blink of an eye, the room seemed to shift.

The dizziness hit first, so sudden you barely had time to brace yourself. Your vision blurred, and a rush of cold air washed over you. You pressed a hand to your temple, trying to steady yourself, but it was no use.

It wasn’t just dizziness. It was like the world itself was slipping away, replaced by something darker. A vision.

-

-

The world is suffocating—darkness swallowing everything.

The air is thick with screams—raw, guttural, pleading.

James’s glasses fall, shattered into pools of red.

The earth is drenched, soaked with fear, with blood, with everything you never wanted to know.

“Run!” Sirius’s voice cracks as he yanks you forward

You hear Remus, pleading, begging—

“Please, don’t look back. Just go!”

The air is heavy with the crack of spells, the sickening sound of bones breaking.

Sirius’s grip is all you have left to hold on to. You feel the weight of everything pressing down on you, but his voice is a lifeline.

“We need to go NOW.” You don’t look back, but you hear it. That scream.

James.

It’s not just a scream. It’s the sound of everything breaking. The sound of life ending.

It rips through you, through all of you, tearing something deep inside that you can’t even name.

Remus’s eyes lock with yours for a brief second, and in them, you see everything: fear, love, regret. “Don’t look back,” Remus’s voice is barely a whisper, 

The screams keep coming, one after the other. A storm of death and pain. Then, the worst sound of all.

Remus.

You hear him cry out—no, not cry out—begging. His voice breaking, splintering as if his very soul is being torn apart.

The sound cuts through the air like a knife, a desperate plea for mercy that doesn’t come.

The trees are closing in, but you can’t outrun the screams. You can’t outrun what’s happening.

Sirius stumbles, dragging you with him, but you both know it’s too late.

The ground is shaking now, trembling with the weight of death.

Something moves in the distance. Something that’s always been there, lurking, watching.

It’s him.

You hear the soft whisper of a name in your mind, but you don’t believe it.

The world stops.

The truth crashes through you, breaking you wide open.

The traitor.

The one you trusted.

The one who sold them out.

Everything you thought you knew is shattered.

-

-

Gasping for air, chest heaving, you felt the pressure of hands on your shoulders, holding you steady.

“Hey—hey, stay with me. You’re okay.”

It was Remus. His voice was strained with worry. But it didn’t make sense. None of it did.

The world was still spinning, and the faces around you were all blurry—except for one. The one that you couldn’t pull your eyes away from.

Peter was standing by the door. His eyes were unreadable.

And in that moment, you knew.

“Peter.”

The word was barely a whisper, but it hit the room like thunder.

Remus’s grip tightened, his voice full of panic. “What are you saying? What do you mean?”

But you couldn’t answer. Your mind was reeling from the truth. The betrayal that had been right in front of you all along.

It was Peter.

[unconventional-lawnchair]

Jealousy, Jealousy

Where the boys get jealous... (Feat. Barty, Regulus, Sirius, Remus, and James)

WC: ~3.5k

CW: Fem!Reader, a few cusses, obsessive and possessive boys, Remus and Moony are written as different characters.

Barty gets asked if you're single…

Barty leaned against the stone wall of the corridor, arms crossed and a lazy smirk playing on his lips as the boy in front of him tried to find his footing in the conversation. It was late enough in the evening that most of the students had cleared out, leaving the space quiet except for the faint echo of distant footsteps. The boy- what was his name? Probably irrelevant- was shifting his weight nervously, though he tried to mask it with a forced bravado.

“So,” The boy began again, licking his lips as though trying to sound casual. “You’re close with her, right? I mean, you two are always together.”

Barty raised an eyebrow, his smirk widening just a touch as he tilted his head- pulling the smoke from between his lips. “We’re friends,” Barty replied easily, though the word friends came out slow and deliberate, almost like a challenge.

The boy took a deep breath, seemingly bolstered by Barty’s nonchalant tone. “Right, yeah. I figured.” He hesitated, then plunged forward, clearly emboldened by the silence. “I was just wondering, you know… do you think she’d go for someone like me?”

Barty blinked. For the briefest moment, his expression was unreadable- like he hadn’t quite heard the question correctly. Then, like a switch being flipped, he grinned widely, his whole face lighting up as though the very idea had amused him to no end.

“You?” He repeated, laughter edging his voice as he uncrossed his arms and pushed off the wall. He took a deep breath of his smoke and let the ash slip onto the boy's shoe, who quickly shook it off. Barty gestured at the boy vaguely, as though considering his entire existence. “You’re asking if you would have a shot?”

The boy’s bravado faltered slightly at Barty’s tone, but he straightened his shoulders, forcing a confident nod. “Yeah. I mean, she’s nice to everyone, right? So I thought- ”

“Oh, that’s precious,” Barty interrupted smoothly, his voice warm but condescending. He stepped closer, his free hand sliding into his pocket, his green eyes glinting as he looked the boy over. “She is nice to everyone, isn’t she? That’s what makes her so…” He paused, pretending to search for the right word. “Enchanting, I suppose.”

The boy relaxed just a fraction at Barty’s seemingly complimentary tone, but Barty’s smile sharpened as he took another step forward.

“Here’s the thing,” Barty continued, his voice softening into something dangerously close to friendly. “You’re not a bad bloke, are you?” He flicked his robes, letting the smoke from his cigarette fill the boys senses. “Clean enough robes, decent enough grades- probably someone your mum’s very proud of. Real cookie cutter, yeah?”

The boy blinked, caught off guard. “Uh… I guess?”

Barty grinned wider. “See? Nothing wrong with you at all. And yet…” He trailed off, taking another hit before he blatantly blew the smoke into his face. Even then he still found himself leaning in slightly, his voice dropping lower. “She’s not for you.”

The boy coughed, shooing away the smoke, confused. “What do you mean? She’s not- ”

“Let me save you some time, mate,” Barty cut in smoothly, stepping around him as though they were taking a casual stroll together. “Do you know what she wants to be after she graduates? How she wrinkles her nose when she laughs too hard- how much she hates when someone brings it up? Or how she’ll hum to herself when she thinks no one’s listening? How to make her smile on her worst days?” He glanced back over his shoulder, his smile full of sharp teeth. “You don’t, do you?”

The boy shifted uncomfortably under the weight of Barty’s words. “No, but- ”

Barty whirled back to face him, the sudden movement causing the boy to flinch. “That’s the problem though, innit?” He said softly, his voice dripping with false sympathy. “You don’t know her. Not really. And she deserves someone who does.”

The boy looked frustrated now, his confidence cracking under Barty’s pointed gaze. “You’re just saying that because you think you’re better for her!”

Barty’s smirk vanished. The shift was subtle but immediate, the playfulness draining from his face as his eyes turned icy, pinning the boy where he stood. “Better for her?” Barty echoed softly, his tone devoid of its earlier amusement. “I’d destroy myself for her. I’d burn the whole bloody world down if it so much as thought about hurting her. I've spent years of my life making sure she'd never know fear when I'm around.”

The boy opened his mouth to respond, but no words came. Barty stepped closer, forcing him to back up until his shoulders hit the cold stone wall. Flicking out his cig and tossing it at his chest.

“You don’t understand devotion, mate,” Barty continued, his voice low, almost a whisper. “Not the kind that keeps you awake at night, wondering if she’s happy. Not the kind that has you ready to rip apart anyone who so much as looks at her the wrong way. That kind of love… it’s not for people like you.”

The boy swallowed hard, his eyes darting away as though trying to escape Barty’s unrelenting stare.

Barty tilted his head, the hint of a smile returning to his lips, though it held none of its earlier warmth. “But don’t worry,” he said lightly, taking a small step back. “I’m not angry. You’re harmless, really. Like a moth buzzing too close to something far too bright for you to touch. Happens to everyone who meets her.”

The boy shifted uneasily, his face pale as he tried to muster some shred of dignity. “You’re crazy,” He muttered under his breath.

Barty grinned at that, his eyes glinting with something almost feral. “Probably,” He admitted cheerfully, shrugging. “Just trust me mate. You wouldn't survive the competition.”

~~~

Regulus sees a guy trying to ask you out…

You were standing just outside the courtyard, the stone archways sheltering you and a nervous-looking Gryffindor boy from the cool autumn breeze. He’d stopped you after class, clearly trying to build up the courage to ask something. You were being polite, as always, listening with a soft smile while he stumbled over his words.

Regulus hadn’t been far, of course. He never was, though you hadn’t noticed him watching you from across the courtyard, his keen gray eyes narrowing slightly at the boy’s sudden presence.

“So, um,” the Gryffindor started, shifting on his feet and running a hand through his hair. “I was wondering if- uh- well, maybe you’d like to go to Hogsmeade with me this weekend? Just us?”

You blinked, surprised by the question. “Oh- ”

Before you could finish, Regulus moved in like a shadow, silent and swift. Without a word, he appeared at your side and leaned down, resting his chin casually on your shoulder. The gesture startled you, your breath hitching as his weight settled comfortably there, familiar but intrusive all the same.

“Are you busy, ma moitié?” Regulus asked smoothly, his tone soft, casual, and laced with just a hint of amusement. He ignored the Gryffindor completely, acting as if he didn’t exist.

Your face turned slightly to the side, startled by his sudden proximity. “Regulus? What are you- ”

“We have that thing to do, remember?” Regulus murmured, his voice low but perfectly clear. He tilted his head, the movement brushing his hair softly against your cheek.

The Gryffindor frowned, his nerves quickly shifting to irritation. “What thing? I was just asking her something- ”

Regulus finally glanced at him, his gaze lazy and unbothered but chilling nonetheless. “How generous of you to interrupt,” he said coolly, his chin still perched on your shoulder as though he hadn’t a care in the world.

The boy bristled. “I didn’t interrupt- ”

Regulus cut him off with a small, sardonic smile, as though he were correcting a child. “You didn’t mean to, I’m sure,” he drawled. “But, you see, we have plans. So unless you’re particularly fond of wasting her time…”

You frowned slightly, your hand moving to nudge Regulus’s shoulder as if to make him move. “Reg, that’s not- ”

“Isn’t it?” Regulus replied smoothly, tilting his head ever so slightly, the hint of a smirk playing on his lips.

The Gryffindor’s face flushed, clearly caught off guard by Regulus’s presence and tone. He looked at you, frustration in his voice. “Look, I just wanted to- ”

“I think you should go,” Regulus said, his voice as light and polite as ever, though there was no mistaking the ice beneath it.

The Gryffindor hesitated, but Regulus’s unwavering stare pinned him in place. It wasn’t a glare- Regulus didn’t need to glare to be intimidating. His calm, unwavering confidence was sharp enough. After another awkward pause, the boy muttered, “Maybe another time.”

He turned and walked off, shoulders tense and ears red.

Regulus finally lifted his chin from your shoulder, straightening up with a look of faint satisfaction. You turned on him immediately, pouting a bit with your bottom lip jotted out- eyebrows furrowing and your arms crossed. “That wasn't very nice, Black.”

Regulus shrugged and wrapped his arm around your waist as he turned you away from the courtyard. “He’ll live.”

~~~

Sirius seeing someone flirt with you…

It was a lovely spring afternoon by the Black Lake. The sunlight filtered through the branches of the nearby trees, dancing over the rippling water. A cool breeze swept through the air, ruffling your hair as you sat cross-legged on a blanket, deep in conversation with a Slytherin boy.

The boy- someone vaguely familiar, you thought his name was Marcus- had approached you earlier in the day, something about needing help with Potions. He was pleasant enough, a bit shy, though you couldn’t help but notice how often he looked away or scratched the back of his neck when you smiled.

“…and, you know, it’s just the stirring,” Marcus was saying, his voice faltering slightly as his eyes darted to yours. “I keep- well, messing it up. Slughorn says I’m overthinking it.”

You offered a gentle smile, always patient. “It’s probably just nerves,” you reassured him kindly. “You’re better at it than you think, I’m sure. Do you want me to walk you through it?”

Marcus blinked, visibly perking up. “Oh- yeah, that’d be great, I mean- ”

“Ah, there you are,” Sirius Black’s unmistakable drawl cut through the serene afternoon like a thunderclap.

Both of you turned toward the voice, and there he was. Sirius stood at the edge of the blanket with his hands shoved lazily in the pockets of his trousers, the sunlight making his dark hair shine like ink. There was an unmistakable mischief in his gray eyes as he looked from you to Marcus and back again.

“Sirius,” You said with a mix of surprise and mild annoyance, straightening where you sat. “What are you doing here?”

“What, can’t a man visit his favorite girl?” He replied with a grin, though his gaze sharpened ever so slightly as it flicked toward Marcus. “You know, it’s dangerous out here by the lake. Giant squids, rouge bludgers, snakes- all that. Best you’re not left alone with someone… inexperienced.”

Marcus’s face flushed, clearly thrown off. “I think she’s doing fine, thanks,” he muttered, trying to sound confident but failing miserably.

Sirius smirked, as though that was the response he’d been hoping for. Without any preamble, he dropped onto the blanket beside you- practically on top of you- his long legs stretching out as he sprawled back against the grass like he owned the entire lakeshore.

“Merlin’s beard, it’s exhausting being me,” he said dramatically, folding his arms behind his head. “You don’t mind, do you, sweetheart? Just needed to rest my bones for a bit.”

You rolled your eyes. “Sirius, I’m kind of busy- ”

“Oh, don’t let me interrupt,” he said innocently, though the smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth was anything but. “Go on, Marcus. You were talking about… stirring, was it?”

Marcus shot Sirius a pointed glare. “We were in the middle of something.”

“Were you?” Sirius replied, eyes gleaming with barely contained amusement. “Could’ve fooled me.”

You frowned, nudging him with your elbow. “Sirius, stop being difficult.”

“I’m not being difficult.” He purred smoothly, shifting just enough to rest his head against your shoulder, his hair brushing your neck as though it was the most natural thing in the world. “Just keeping an eye on you. Someone has to.”

Your face burned at the unexpected affection, though you tried your best to seem unbothered. Marcus, however, looked positively livid, his fists clenching and unclenching by his sides.

“You’re doing this on purpose,” Marcus accused, glaring at Sirius.

Sirius blinked up at him, all mock innocence. “Me? What on earth would I be doing on purpose?”

“You know what- ”

“Marcus,” you interrupted, sighing as you tried to salvage the conversation. “Maybe we can pick this up later. It’s… getting a bit distracting.”

Marcus glanced at you, frustrated but resigned, his gaze lingering a moment longer before he nodded stiffly. “Sure. Later.”

He stalked off without another word, leaving you alone with Sirius, who was grinning like the Cheshire Cat.

“You’re an ass.” You huffed, finally shoving him off your shoulder.

Sirius sat up with a dramatic groan, smirking as he stretched out his arms. “Merlin, that was exhausting.”

You glared at him, exasperated. “What was that?”

“That, my dear,” Sirius said, grinning cheekily, “was me doing you a favor. You don’t honestly want to spend your afternoon discussing stirring, do you?”

“That’s not the point!” You argued, narrowing your eyes. “He was just being nice, and you scared him off!”

“Good,” Sirius replied smugly, lying back down with his hands behind his head. “Couldn’t risk losing you to someone boring.”

“You’re ridiculous.”

“I could be practical- real practical. We can talk about stirring.”

You huffed, trying to hide the small smile tugging at your lips.

Sirius turned his head to look at you, his grin softening ever so slightly as his stormy eyes held yours. “Besides,” he added, voice quieter now, “it’s much better when it’s just us, don’t you think?”

~~~

Remus finds you asleep on someone he doesn't know…

The Gryffindor common room was dimly lit, the fire burning low, its golden light casting lazy shadows across the walls. Most students had gone to bed, and silence blanketed the space, save for the occasional pop of burning wood.

Remus hadn’t been able to sleep. He’d lain awake for what felt like hours, restlessness gnawing at him as Moony clawed at the edges of his mind, pacing.

She’s not where she's supposed to be, Moony murmured, insistent and low, like a growl rumbling through his chest. Go to her. Find her.

It was nonsense, of course. You were probably curled up in your dormitory, safe and warm, and yet Moony’s unease bled into Remus, like an itch he couldn’t scratch. He sighed, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed and padding barefoot to the staircase. Just to be sure. Just to calm Moony.

When he reached the bottom of the stairs, the fire caught his eye first. Then he saw you.

You were curled up in a worn armchair by the fire, your head tilted to rest softly against the shoulder of a fifth-year boy Remus barely recognized. The boy sat stiffly, afraid to move, his expression somewhere between frozen panic and misplaced pride.

Moony stilled.

And then he snarled.

Get her up. She’s vulnerable.

Remus stopped in place, his breath catching as an instinct he couldn’t quite name surged through him. Moony’s anger wasn’t a loud roar this time- it was quiet, simmering like an ember. What’s he doing there? She’s asleep. He shouldn’t be near her. She's vulnerable.

Remus swallowed hard, his fingers twitching as he tried to steady himself. He didn’t want to startle you, and he didn’t want to scare the boy. He wasn’t angry- not really. But Moony… Moony didn’t understand manners.

Before he fully realized what he was doing, Remus moved forward. Quiet as a shadow, he stopped in front of the chair, his amber-tinged eyes fixed on the boy.

The younger Gryffindor glanced up nervously. “Oh. Uh- Lupin- she fell asleep. I didn’t want to wake her.”

Remus didn’t say anything at first, his gaze shifting to you. Your breathing was soft and steady, one arm curled loosely under your head. Moony quieted just a little at the sight, though the wolf’s presence still pressed against Remus’s ribs, heavy and protective.

“She’ll be more comfortable in her own bed,” Remus said finally, his voice low and calm. “I’ll take her.”

The boy blinked, confused. “I- what?”

Remus lifted his chin slightly, his tone firm despite the gentleness in it. “You can go. I’ll make sure she gets to her dorm.”

The boy hesitated, but something in Remus’s steady gaze seemed to settle the matter. “Right. Yeah. Sure,” he mumbled awkwardly, carefully shifting out from under you. He moved to stand, glancing one last time at you before hurrying up the stairs, his footsteps fading into the quiet.

Remus let out a slow breath, crouching down next to you. Moony settled just a little further, content now that the boy was gone, but still restless, still protective.

She’s too exposed, Moony murmured. Wake her. Take her where she’s safe.

Remus hesitated, watching the way your lashes fluttered faintly against your cheeks as you stirred, your lips parting slightly as though searching for the warmth that had left. His heart tugged in his chest, guilt biting at him.

“Dovie,” He called softly, his voice barely above a whisper. He reached out, his hand hovering over your arm for just a moment before gently brushing against your shoulder. “Up you get, lovely girl.”

You shifted with a quiet murmur, blinking blearily as your eyes fluttered open. “Mmm… Remus?”

“Hey.” He cooed, his lips curving into a small, careful smile. “You fell asleep down here.”

“Oh.” You blinked again, sitting up slowly and rubbing at your eyes. You looked around in confusion before your gaze landed back on him. “What time is it?”

“Late,” He chuckled, standing to his full height as he offered you a hand. “Come on. I’ll walk you to your dorm.”

You frowned sleepily, tilting your head. “You don’t have to do that.”

Remus’s jaw tightened faintly, and for a moment, he swore he could feel Moony’s growl rumbling deep inside him. She needs protecting. Don’t leave her here.

“I insist,” He said gently, his voice soft but brooking no argument. “You’ll sleep better in your own bed.”

You yawned, smiling at him as you took his hand. “If you say so.”

~~~

James steals the show from your newest admirer…

The Gryffindor common room was alive with its usual evening bustle- cards flying in midair from a game of Exploding Snap, the fire crackling merrily, and the low hum of chatter filling every corner. You were perched on the arm of one of the chairs, laughing softly as a chaser- Finn regaled you with a story from practice, his easy-going charm and dramatic hand gestures keeping you engaged.

Finn’s voice was lively, something about a Bludger mishap and the newest Beater, and you couldn’t help the bright smile it pulled from you.

James, sitting across the room with Sirius and Remus, had been halfway through a halfhearted game of Wizard’s Chess when he noticed.

“Prongs,” Sirius said, nudging him when his knight didn’t move. “Your move, mate.”

James didn’t hear him. His hazel eyes were fixed on the sight of you leaning just a little closer to Finn, laughing at something he’d said.

James sat up straighter, his jaw tightening.

“Earth to Prongs?” Sirius waved a hand in front of James’s face, earning himself a scowl.

“Do you lot know,” James said suddenly, his voice pitched loud enough to carry across the room, “about the time I stole Filch’s keys and locked him in his own office? Poor guy thought Peeves was after him.”

All at once, a ripple of laughter swept through the room. Students turned toward James with wide smiles and bright eyes, a chorus of, “No way!” and “You’ve got to tell us!” filling the air.

Finn faltered mid-sentence, glancing toward the growing crowd around James.

You shot Finn an apologetic smile, clearly torn between listening to the end of his story and the infectious energy that always followed your best friend. James’s grin was wide and charming as ever, his eyes twinkling mischievously- but when his gaze flicked to yours, something sharper lingered beneath the warmth.

He hadn’t stopped looking at Finn once.

“What happened?” One of the younger students urged eagerly, completely captivated by James’s easy charisma.

“Ah, you wouldn’t believe it,” James replied, leaning back in his seat as though he had all the time in the world. His voice was smooth, his confidence magnetic. “I’d hidden behind that big grandfather clock, you know the one? Filch swore up and down he’d heard a ghost- but he couldn’t figure out how the door locked from the outside. Poor bloke works at Hogwarts and still doesn't grasp magic!”

More laughter erupted, and James winked at you as if to say, See? Isn’t this better?

Finn glanced at you, clearly realizing he’d lost your attention entirely. “I, um… I guess I’ll finish the story later,” He muttered sheepishly.

“Oh, I’m sorry!” You said, genuinely apologetic, but Finn was already waving you off.

“It’s fine. James has a habit of stealing the spotlight anyway,” he joked, though his tone wasn’t without a hint of frustration. He wandered off toward his dorm room, leaving you to turn toward James and his growing group of admirers.

Later, Sirius confronted James about his little stunt. Calling him jealous, James scoffs dramatically. “Jealous? Me? Please. I’m just looking out for her.”

Sirius raises an eyebrow. “Looking out for her, or making sure no one else looks at her?”

James shrugs, a smug little grin tugging at his lips. “Same thing, really.”

[solsticehymns]

sweater weather: drabble

bsf!remus x f!reader / fluffff / light teasing / oblivious!reader

summary: Remus Lupin is usually calm, composed—until he sees you wearing his sweater. Suddenly, his world tilts, his thoughts scramble, and his heart betrays him. Sirius and James pick up on it immediately, but you? Completely oblivious. And when you try to give it back? Not a chance.

wc: 700

Remus prided himself on being level-headed. He wasn’t the type to make a scene, wasn’t the type to get flustered easily. But when you strolled into the Great Hall that morning, wrapped up in his sweater like it had always belonged to you—well.

It hit him like a full-body hex.

His breath caught, fingers tightening around his fork. His brain, usually sharp and composed, went utterly blank. Because there you were—wearing his sweater. The one he’d worn through winter after winter, the one that had been stretched to fit his long limbs and softened over time into something impossibly comfortable. And now, it was on you—swallowing your frame, hanging off your shoulders like it had found its rightful home.

The sleeves engulfed your hands, only your fingertips peeking out as you rubbed at your tired eyes. The neckline was just loose enough to slip slightly off one shoulder, exposing warm skin beneath, and Remus swore he felt his heartbeat stutter.

You slid into the seat beside him with a sleepy yawn, reaching for the pumpkin juice like it was just another morning, like you weren’t unknowingly rewiring his entire brain.

Remus swallowed hard. Looked down at his plate. Breathed. Be normal, for Merlin’s sake.

A slow grin spread across Sirius’ face from across the table. “Well, well, well,” he mused, eyes flicking between the two of you. “What do we have here?”

Remus shot him a warning glance. Don’t.

Sirius, naturally, ignored it. “Didn’t peg you for the sharing type, Moony,” he drawled. “But look at you. Giving away your favorite sweater.”

James hummed, catching on immediately. “It’s a good look on her,” he added, smirking. “Wouldn’t have guessed you were the possessive type, but I suppose we all learn something new every day.”

You blinked between them, confused. “What?”

Sirius smirked. “Oh, nothing.”

Remus clenched his jaw, willing himself not to react, but he could already feel the heat creeping up the back of his neck. His grip on his fork tightened. He was not going to entertain them.

Completely oblivious to his internal crisis, you tugged at the sleeves, frowning slightly. “Oh—right, sorry, Rem,” you said, already reaching to pull it off. “I didn’t even ask, I just kind of found it and—”

The second your fingers started pulling at the hem, panic shot through him like a lightning strike.

“No.”

It came out too fast. Too sharp. Almost desperate.

You froze. So did the other boys.

His heart was pounding. He forced himself to breathe, to not let it show, but his face betrayed him—the slight wideness in his eyes, the way his shoulders tensed like he’d just been hexed. He cleared his throat, trying to salvage what was left of his dignity.

“I mean—” He exhaled, rubbing the back of his neck, voice softer now, deliberate. “It’s fine. You can keep it.”

You blinked, still clearly confused. “Are you sure? I don’t mind—”

Remus shook his head immediately. Too quick. Again.

“It’s yours now.”

That was it. That was all Sirius needed. He let out a long, low whistle, nudging James. “Oh, he’s gone.”

James grinned. “Absolutely wrecked.”

Remus sighed, dragging a hand down his face. “Shut up.”

Sirius just smirked. “I mean, who knew? All this time, we thought Moony here was the responsible one. Turns out he’s just as much of a sucker as the rest of us.”

Remus refused to engage. Refused to give them the satisfaction. Instead, he glanced back at you, still swimming in his sweater, still looking at him with mild confusion and zero understanding of what had just happened.

He could not believe how utterly, completely oblivious you were.

But he just shook his head, reaching under the table to give your hand a quick squeeze. “It looks better on you anyway,” he murmured.

Sirius groaned dramatically. “Unbelievable. I think I might be sick.”

James laughed. “I give it a week before they’re sharing scarves, too.”

Remus ignored them. The teasing was inevitable. What mattered was that you were still wearing his sweater, still curled up beside him like you belonged there.

And, Merlin help him, he did not want it back.

☀️🌻 masterlist

[g1rld1ary]

the way i see you ; remus lupin x reader

synopsis: you're an artist, but you never let any of your friends see your work. they finally attend one of your exhibits and see your feelings on paper

wc: 4346

cw: swearing, allusions to sex, gryffindor reader but literally mentioned once, no pronouns but implied to be fem reader, kissing, no war AU!!

me: the remus brainrot is strong rn

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You were an artist, you had been the whole time the boys knew you. Even in first year as a shy eleven year old, you were always scribbling away in a little sketchbook that lived in the big pockets of your robes. The hobby only developed as you got older, expanding mediums and filling countless sketchbooks. When you weren’t studying (or even when you were supposed to be) it was almost a given that you’d be working on a piece somewhere, far from the prying eyes of others.

Your friends caught glances of your art sometimes, doodles on the corner of your essays or notes, maybe a stray page left out in your dorm which told them you were good, but you never ever willingly let them see it. They didn’t know why, truthfully, you didn’t know either, but it had always been that way and everyone had more or less accepted that.

“Have you ever drawn me?” Sirius asked one afternoon as you all sat out by the Black Lake, cocky grin on his face.

“’Course,” You answered simply, moving to turn back to your conversation with Remus.

“Wait, really?”

“Well you have to have drawn me then, right? Can’t just be Padfoot!” James cut in quickly, making you laugh, nodding.

“Before everyone starts asking, lets just establish that I’ve drawn all of you at some point, okay?” You thought that would calm them down, but it only riled them up further, much to your chagrin.

“And you haven’t shown us?” Marlene cried dramatically.

“I deserve to see you capture my beauty!” Sirius collapsed in an exaggerated performance and you couldn’t decide whether you were amused or embarrassed, giggling and hiding your face in Remus’ shoulder. He merely pat you on the shoulder, shooting you a fond gaze you couldn’t see. James caught it though, and smirked in a way that Remus knew he was about to be embarrassed.

“Have you drawn Moony?” He asked, and you both looked at him suddenly.

“Prongs, don’t,” Remus said sternly, then turning to you, “It’s okay, you don’t have to answer… I know they must ruin the picture.” He gestured down to his scars. You just looked at him for a moment, utterly baffled.

“As if some silly scars would stop me from drawing you,” You said, a sweet smile on your lips, “You’re my biggest inspiration, Moony.” He blushed at that but the rest of your friends tactfully ignored it, though the boys shot him some shit-eating looks.

It was probably true that you drew Remus the most, but it was only because you spent the most time with him! Or, that’s what you told yourself anyway. Remus Lupin was your best friend in the world, and you loved him more than anything. Since you were always together and hanging out, clearly you’d draw him more, it was perfectly natural!

Your study sessions together in the library often devolved quickly, essays abandoned to the side, both of you falling into chatter as you studied and sketched him.

“What’re you drawing, dove?” He’d always ask, knowing you’d never tell. You’d simply press your lips into a cheeky smile, shaking your head resolutely.

“Uh-uh,” You’d say, “An artist never reveals her secrets.”

“I’m pretty sure that’s magicians, stupid,” He laughed, running a hand through his curls.

“Oh,” You frowned, “Well I’m that too, aren’t I?”

“Hardly,” He snorted, “Your essays are more doodles than writing.”

“Hey, Slughorn gave me a whole extra mark for the portrait I drew last week, so none of that.”

Or you’d follow him out of the pub you were all in when Remus needed a smoke, sitting on the blacked out window ledge as he lit up. You thought he might have been the most beautiful person in the world when he smoked, the way the lighter brought out the gold flecks in his eyes and hair and the shadows of night emphasised his unreal bone structure. You’d probably drawn him in that exact scenario hundreds of times, but it wasn’t your fault he looked like a fallen angel. When he leaned over to give you a puff you took it gratefully, if only for the proximity. You weren’t much of a smoker, but for Remus you’d let your lungs rot.

It was moments like that where you’d wonder what it would be like to kiss him, lean past the cigarette and put your mouth on his. Sometimes you thought he wanted it too, the way he’d get slightly too close for best friends, his own hand being the one to stick the dart into your mouth, sometimes so close your lips brushed his fingers. Moments like that made you wonder if he loved you back. Then later, when everyone was drunker, you’d see him stick his tongue down some prettier girl’s throat and you’d remember your place as his best friend. If it stung you tried not to show it, letting some sleazy guy a few years older than you buy you drinks until Peter told you it was time to leave.

Still, you were mostly alright with just being friends with Remus. You still got most of the benefits; his conversation, his dry humour, the ability to look at his gorgeous face. Who needed everything else? Plus, you could draw him whenever you wanted, doing whatever you wanted — not in a weird way. Mostly. You still would never admit that you’d drawn him holding your hand, or kissing you, or other things you desired… The magic of art, right?

After years of bugging, you finally submitted to your friends constant nagging. The day that you officially graduated Hogwarts was an emotional one. Seven years of constant laughter and magic (both literal and the sentimental kind) were over, and the world seemed too large and intimidating compared to the familiar walls of your school. Yet there was no stopping it, and you were all Hogwarts graduates.

While all your parents cried and reminisced over coffee in the Great Hall, your friends had gone for one last deep conversation by the Black Lake. Discussions of the future were unavoidable, but were mostly positive. Talks of trips you’d take, apartments you’d live in and hell you’d raise. When you all quietened down slightly, struck by it being the last time you’d sit in front of the lake, you cleared your throat.

“Um, I have something for you guys, a graduation gift.” From your purse you pulled the envelopes, all filled with fancy cardstock from the art shop near your family home. You’d drawn a simple grey-lead portrait of each of your friends, framed with a little message of congratulations. You watched anxiously as they each opened the envelopes, nervous all the hype would make the art seem inconsequential. Your fear couldn’t be farther from the truth.

Sirius gasped dramatically as he saw what it was, but a genuine smile followed straight after. James burst straight into tears, hardly getting the picture all the way out. You could tell Lily was trying not to follow, but seeing her boyfriend cry set off the waterworks for her. Marlene and Mary were inspecting the others, pointing out the little details you’d put in, like Mary’s favourite daisy earrings or the slit Marlene had impulsively shaved into her eyebrow only a few weeks before. Peter was bright pink, flattered to the highest degree. Remus was hard to read, simply staring at you with the strangest look in his eye. You couldn’t ask him about it though, being ambushed with hugs from every direction.

“I can’t believe you’ve been hiding all this talent from us,” Peter said, the rest agreeing.

“Didn’t know we had our very own Da Vinci hiding behind a Gryffindor tie,” Marlene added, making you blush and grin.

You dreaded to imagine what it would look like from an outsider’s perspective, the eight of you teary, sweaty messes all piled on top of each other. Well, seven of you.

“Come on, Moony,” James called in a sing-song voice, “If you can’t submit to a hug at our graduation I am going to give you the biggest, slobberiest kiss and you won’t be able to do a thing about it.” Remus snorted, rolling his eyes.

“You look like absolute wankers,” Was all he said, but joined the pile nonetheless, and you were extra glad he was mainly holding on to you. When you all finally pulled away it was minutes later, but the whole thing was strangely cathartic.

“We all have to promise that we’ll always be friends, no matter what,” Mary said, putting her pinky finger out. The rest of you agreed, sticking your pinkies in for a very convoluted eight way promise. With that sorted your friends started heading back up the hill to the school building, ready to leave Hogwarts forever and prepare for a long night of heavy drinking. Remus held you back. James sent you a suggestive glance when he noticed but left it that, drawing Lily in for a bittersweet kiss.

You turned to Remus, only for his eyes to be locked on the portrait. You’d spent so much time trying to get it perfect for him, practising the stupid knot he insisted on tying every day despite the rest of the school going with a less convoluted method of wearing their ties.

“Do you like it?” You asked, subconsciously twisting your ring around your pointer finger. Remus let out a half laugh.

“I love it, honest. It’s insane, really. That you can make this just like that. It’s just…” You searched his eyes for the rest of the sentence. “You make me look…” He didn’t finish but you knew immediately what he meant. Remus hated looking at himself, training his eyes down in the bathroom and opting to always be the photographer so he didn’t have to see himself in the final product. You knew of course it was because of his scars, but you genuinely couldn’t believe he thought they were ugly, much less made him ugly.

���I wish you could see yourself the way I see you, just once,” You sighed, grabbing his free hand and interlocking your fingers, leading him back to where the others were waiting.

Four years out of Hogwarts and you’d all kept your promise. Of course you didn’t see each other quite as much as the boarding school schedule allowed, but the boys all had an apartment together which brought you together often enough — except James and Lily who were married and had moved down to Godric’s Hollow to raise baby Harry. That similarly brought you all to meet often, all determined to spoil Harry as his aunts and uncles.

You weren’t a full-time artist professionally, though you still did it just as much. You’d evolved to paints by then; living with a muggle because the rent was cheap had the added bonus of not having to worry about leaving your paintings on the easel since you didn’t really care what they thought about your art anyway.

Your friends were all huddled in the boys’ apartment living room, every seat taken as you all caught up. You were on the couch with Remus, absentmindedly running your hands through his hair as his head rested on your lap. You still weren’t dating, but Lily always said you might as well have been. You laughed her off every time — if he hadn’t said anything by now how could he feel the same way? You tried to pretend it didn’t still sting.

You’d tried dating, Remus too. He’d had countless partners since you’d finished school — even more one night stands. Nothing lasted more than a few months. You’d done slightly better, you made it about a year with some bloke that Remus hated before he revealed himself as a colossal dickhead, and you’d been mostly single since.

The group was trying to organise their next meeting.

“What about the movies next Friday? I wanna see that new muggle film, Knife Runner,” James suggested and you and Remus both snorted.

“Blade Runner, love,” Lily corrected with a giggle and James burst out laughing, making a quick joke at his own expense. You’d dug your planner out of your purse to check your availability and frowned, closing the book quickly.

“I can’t do next Friday, sorry, how about Saturday?”

“And what plans have you got on a Friday night, you minx?” Mary asked with wiggling eyebrows. Even Remus looked interested, which made your heart stutter.

“Just a work thing,” You answered quickly, not wanting to reveal the real reason.

“You lie like a rug!” Marlene yelled, sitting up from her spot on the floor. You winced, you shouldn’t have made an excuse that she could so easily disprove, being in the same department of the ministry. “What plans are you too embarrassed to tell us about, slag?” You laughed shortly, their assumptions were so completely off.

“It’s not what you think—”

“Not what you think my arse, who’s ‘Davis Show’ and why is he surrounded by hearts, you absolute tart!” Sirius cried, displaying the planner for everyone to see. You couldn’t help but burst out laughing, wheezing as you looked at your friends’ faux-scandalised expressions.

“Look you twats, Davis Show isn’t a man. I’ve been invited to put my art in a show at the Davis Gallery down on Welking Road next week. I can assure you I’m not shagging a man named Davis.”

The whiplash was immediate, the gossip sniffing exchanged for celebrations, you couldn’t tell whose yelling was whose. Peter immediately ran to the kitchen for a bottle of champagne, passing glasses around the room. When the initial excitement wore down you were subjected to a million questions, and tried to answer each of them patiently.

“I can’t believe you weren’t gonna tell us,” Mary pouted and you sighed.

“You know how I get about my art,” You explained, “It’s not that I don’t love you all, obviously, it just makes me so nervous thinking about you guys all seeing my stuff.”

“You know we’re all coming now, right?” James said, wiping his glasses where the champagne bubbles had created smudges.

“You really don’t have to,” You put in quickly, “It’s so embarrassing.”

“Why won’t you let us appreciate you?” Marlene whined.

“It’s just, my art is like an extension of my soul. I don’t think I’d be able to recover if you didn’t think it was good.” Your friends grew rowdy at that, offended you’d even think they wouldn’t adore your art no matter what. You felt Remus put a hand on your thigh and gave him a weak smile, knowing he’d shut down the conversation if you wanted him to. You didn’t want to make a big deal out of nothing though, especially when everyone was being so supportive. You figured everyone was so busy they’d forget it by the next week anyway.

Friday came, and you were a wreck of nerves. Although you’d sold pieces here and there throughout the years, this show would be the first time your art would be displayed as a collective, and you were terrified of rejection.

You’d figured your friends weren’t actually coming since none of them had really mentioned anything since. Apart from Lily, of course, who’d sent an owl to your desk that morning with a sweet good luck note and your favourite chocolate.

Even Remus hadn’t said anything when you went for coffee on your lunch break. That did puzzle you, you knew he would never go if he thought it would make you uncomfortable, but it wasn’t like him as your best friend to forget something so monumental in your life. You thought he was acting kind of weird though, more affectionate than he usually was. He kept looking at you longer than he should, and you wondered if you’d miscounted how far away the next full moon was. When you asked him about it he just brushed it off, looking down at his tea instead like he’d been caught.

“I love you,” He said and you laughed.

“I love you too, Lupin!” You cooed, patting him softly on the hand.

“You’re amazing, you know?” You arched a brow.

“What are you trying to make up for?” You asked suspiciously, giving him a once over to search for answers.

“Nothing, promise,” He smiled in a way that made your knees a little weak, “I just wanted to make sure you knew.”

“You’re gonna give me an ego,” You grumbled, packing up your things to get back to work. As you parted ways he pressed a kiss down to your cheek and you stumbled. Remus was never this affectionate as a person — a pat on the back, a hug if you needed one, yes, but he was never one for casual platonic kisses. You figured it must have been his way to apologise for not coming to the art show? But he knew you didn’t mind, so what was he apologising for? You tried to shake it off and get back to work, but you couldn’t get your closeness out of your head.

Evening fell and you were setting up your stall before the other patrons came in. Rearranging the paintings until you were pretty much perfectly happy, you looked around, still not fully believing you were really here. People were filtering in, well dressed and chattering softly as young waiters handed out flutes of champagne. You straightened out your silky black skirt in an effort to look more presentable, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

At first things were slow, and you almost regretted not inviting your friends, if only so they could make your area look more interesting. And once you let that thought in, you kind of regretted not inviting them anyway. After all, they were the dearest people in your life and this was such a meaningful event to you.

You couldn’t think about that for long though since people had begun to filter over to you, making polite small talk as they admired your paintings. You tried to be energetic, smiling widely if you ever locked eyes with someone. However, deep down, you just wanted your friends.

A little old woman approached you for a while, wanting to know the meaning behind basically every painting and you told her happily, sharing the memories that inspired each work.

“Seems like you’ve got some true friends,” She said, “I hope you keep them close.” You agreed, thanking her profusely as she bought a landscape of the Whomping Willow.

It was growing closer and closer to closing, and honestly, it had been a wonderful night. Seeing the way that people reacted and interacted with your art was a magical experience, and changed the way you thought about it entirely. You decided that if you ever got the opportunity again, you’d want to share it with everyone else.

You were just moving to start packing up when you heard a myriad of gasps.

“What the fuck, dude?” The unmistakeable voice of Marlene McKinnon said from behind you. You whipped around to meet them, breaking into a cheek splitting smile.

“What are you guys doing here?” You asked, rushing over to scoop them all up into a hug.

“Fuck that, why didn’t you tell us that we’re your exhibition?” Sirius cried, running up to examine the paintings more clearly.

“And that they’re literally professional?” Peter added, eyes wide in wonder. You flushed red under their praise. If your friends thought your pencil portraits were good, they were nothing compared to your paintings.

Plus, every one of them was of your friends, or something sentimental to you all. Landscapes of Hogwarts, portraits of your friends, captured memories of long summer days, or life sketches from when you were all together. You watched them observe the paintings with nervous excitement, loving as they gave specific, personal compliments that only people who truly knew you could give.

“This our apartment,” Sirius said, pointing to one of your biggest pieces, “That’s our couch, the pillow Prongs has permanently ruined with butterbeer, that’s Moony!”

“There are a lot of paintings of Moony, aren’t there?” James whispered to you, wiggling his eyebrows. You flushed again. Sirius continued on, seeming (or pretending) not to have heard.

“We have to have this in the flat. Right boys?” Your eyes widened.

“Really?”

“For sure,” Peter said, “I’m buying this one too.” He gestured to one of him and James playing chess in the Gryffindor common room.

“And this is taking pride of place at home.” James pointed to a portrait of his and Lily’s wedding, and Lily similarly chose one of her and baby Harry. Marlene took one of her and Mary on the beach and Mary took one of the group at a house party. Half your paintings ended up being sold by the end of the night, and you couldn’t feel luckier. The only one who hadn’t said anything was Remus, who couldn’t keep his eyes off the paintings.

You shooed your friends out of the gallery once it really was closing time, and got to work packing away your things. You were deep in thought, reflecting on the wild day when someone cleared their throat behind you. It was Remus, and he moved to help you put your things away, stacking the paintings between bubble wrap to protect them.

“These are really beautiful,” He said, “I mean, we knew you were talented but… these are seriously on another level.”

“Thanks, Remus.” You smiled, unable to make eye contact as you watched him handle all the paintings you’d done of him. Portraits like the others, but also studies of his hands — god you were obsessed with his hands — his profile, and one less than innocent picture of his back, scars resting over muscles. You probably shouldn’t have put that one out, but to be fair you didn’t know he’d see it.

There was a somewhat awkward silence between the two of you. Not uncomfortable, per se, but there were definitely things you both wanted to say that neither knew how to.

“Let me drive you home,” Remus settled on and you nodded, letting him help you load your work into the boot of his car. You sat in the passenger seat, absentmindedly tapping your fingers on the dashboard to whatever radio station Remus had turned on. Remus stared straight ahead, knuckles pulled tight around the steering wheel.

“I’m really proud of you, you know. This whole show was incredible.” You went to thank him again but he kept talking. “I just wanted to know, um, there were a lot of paintings of me. I was just wondering why, why me?” You hesitated, unsure of what was going to come out of your mouth.

“I wish you could see yourself the way I see you,” You decided on with a bit of a sigh.

“You’ve said that before, what does that mean?” Your breath hitched. You definitely didn’t intend for it all to come out tonight, but if you didn’t say it now you doubted you ever would.

“You are the most beautiful person I know, Remus. I mean, even aside from your personality — which we know I have to be at least somewhat a fan of after all these years — you’re totally fit. Your eyes, your hair, God, your fucking bone structure, you’re literally a walking renaissance painting. And I know you think your scars make you ugly, but you don’t know how turned on I get thinking about how they’d feel on my skin.” Shit, you probably should’ve stopped talking.

You hadn’t realised he’d parked while you were rambling, but now you were sitting outside his apartment and he was looking at you with eyes that looked more like the wolf than him.

“I turn you on?” He whispered, voice suddenly gravelly as he leaned closer in to you.

“More than anything,” You breathed, brain buffering at the feeling of his breath on your face. Suddenly his mouth was on yours, hot and electric and not at all gentle. It felt like years of pent up frustration being let out all at once, and if he was anything like you, it probably was.

“Up,” He mumbled between kisses and you heard him undoing his seatbelt, hurrying to do the same. You barely disconnected to get out of the car, attaching yourself to his arm as he led the way up to the boys’ flat.

You made it up the three flights of stairs, not without Remus pushing you up against the stairwell wall to stick his tongue in your mouth, and stumbled straight into his bedroom, shedding layers as soon as the door was safely shut.

The next morning you awoke first, initially convinced you were dreaming when you saw him lying peacefully beside you. Eventually you rolled onto your side, ready to get out of bed for a glass of water when his nightstand caught your eye. There, in pride of place, was your graduation portrait of him, with a polaroid of the two of you stuck to the corner. Maybe he really had liked you as long as you’d liked him.

[asraxfile]

Wicked haunting.

sypnosis What happens after you fall in love with a ghost that's been haunting your new home for the past few months? Was she really just lonely or just wicked? genre horror, fluff? warnings kissing, darker themes(su!cide, killing and dead mentions), obsessed, toxic and manipulative, yanderesih Winter wc 10.7k

A/n: had this idea and before I fail it, I HAD to write it. Please dont read if you dont take themes like this easily, ty and enjoy readingg ^^

3.40AM 

Dark was the night when you awoke from your dreams again. A loud thud of something made of glass falling to the ground filled the thunderous night. Rain roughly tapped on your bedroom window as you held the sheets tightly. Your cat Moonie, startled at such noise, also woke up and softly meowed at you. Exhaling deeply, you brush your hand over Moonie’s fluffy fur as she leaned in your touch. “What was that, Moonie, hm?” you whispered to her, uncovering yourself while sitting up. 

Moonie was practically your only company since you moved into the new house. It was like a historical villa but smaller than the ones nowadays. It had an attic, upstairs, ground floor and of course— a basement. 

The old fugly looking old man told you that the house made him go crazy— allegedly being haunted. Rumors like which spread ever since the first owner’s daughter committed suicide in these very walls. Hanging herself in the attic. Nobody knew why and nobody bothered to find out why. Her name—Kim Minjeong. 

The old man’s voice echoed through your ear when you stood up and took your lantern that was next to your bed on the bedside table as you lit a match. The soft and comforting light of the little match sparkled over your face as you inflamed the candle and gently placed it into the black, stylish looking lantern. 

“Never go to the attic at night, do you understand?” His raspy, barely understandable voice echoed through your head. You stood up and held the lantern high right in front of your head. It is the only light source for now. At times you flinched at the sudden thunder from the rough weather. 

Why didn’t he want you to go up there all alone, especially at night?— you didn’t know. You didn’t even know if you wanted to find out, until you saw pieces of your vase leading to a certain point of the long hallway. 

Before taking a deep breath, silence was too loud for situations like this. Feeling your heartbeat rushing continuously through your veins, rushing cold sweat through your forehead forming and Moonie was next to your bedroom door. Turning around you faced your fluffy russian blue gray cat. Her big green eyes and pupils being thin and elliptical. A meow echoed through the darkness once more as you smiled at her, “Be right back, Moonie, I’ll just check.” 

After saying so, you turn back again and stare at the broken glass on the floor. Something twitched inside you. An unspoken fear you couldn’t exactly name at the moment. The eager feeling in the back of your head was telling you something you didn’t want to accept just yet—you weren’t alone in this house. 

Slowly walking with your slippers, ankles naked and exposed, you slowly picked the glass up so nobody steps on it. Until, you hear a footstep. 

Where? How?— turning around, Moonie was still sitting in the same position, licking her paws and cleaning the back of her ears. It was then realization hit you—someone was walking in the attic, right over your head. 

Slowly, with your heart scaredly thumping in your ribs, you looked up at the small door that had to be pulled on the outside to have an entrance in the ceiling. On the outside meant it had to be pulled by you or anyone in the said hallway. Holding the risky sharp glass in your left hand and the lantern in your right you couldn’t speak, think or breathe for a second. 

But curiosity won’t just kill a cat. 

You rushed to the trash can and threw the glass away. On your way back you took a long stick with a twisted sharp hook on the end. It was time to delve deeper into the mystery of this house. 

Pictured paintings falling on a random pale day or your stuff being in different places than where you’ve put them. Or even your cat as if having inner demons stared at the places where nothing was—it wasn’t just a coincidence. 

Inhaling a brave breath, you lifted the hooked stick up and pulled the stairs for the attic down. So sudden but so twisted. A draft screamed through the halls from the wind blowing through the opened windows as your hair breezed away from your face. Nodding to yourself you took the first step of the stairs, then two, three, and so on. 

Placing the lantern on the attic floor to gain some balance you quietly groaned while making your way up. Peaking your head through, you were met by dust flying everywhere and something that made your blood run cold through your veins. A rope, tightly tied to the attic wooden ceiling right in front of the window. Your breath hitches, but it will also be taken away when somebody’s starts to speak, someone that isn’t you. 

“Took you long enough to come up here.” a soft spoken voice pierced through your ears as you flinched. Turning around you were also met by a female figure, she was leaning to your head in the entrance of the attic. Her face was as if made of porcelain and quartz and her eyes—as if they lived through death. 

Your eyes were wide open and you were speechless. The female figure was grinning at you gently as she moved out of the way to let you in. 

“Who are you?” you quietly ask, holding the lantern once again when you finally took a step on the wooden cold floor of the last floor. “me? oh sorry, I’m not much of an ‘effective intro’ person,” she started, brushing her brown short bangs out of her eyes. “Kim Minjeong, nice to meet you.” she held her hand out to shake it with you. 

Kim Minjeong—the girl who died in these very walls, you remembered. 

Your lips parted as your mouth started to dry. “but you…” you swiftly pointed your index finger at her. She playfully rolled her eyes as she wickedly eyed you. “Sorry if I bothered you these past days, I’m just…fascinated by you.” She said with honesty in her tone. Still a little confused, you scan her whole figure. 

She wore a white cotton long sleeved shirt with rolled up sleeves and worn out low waist jeans. Her hair was a darker shade of brown, short to her shoulders with bangs covering most of her forehead. You would think she wasn’t this talkative but she somehow was. 

Turning around, scanning the area, lighting through with your familiar lantern you felt twisted once again. Something was wrong but so far away to define it. 

“So you’re…” you start, wanting to face Minjeong again but she was nowhere in your sight. Eyebrows furrowing and head tilting you look around until she appears upside down, floating before your eyes. "A ghost? Let’s say I am." her hair whipped through the moving as she tilted her head. Flying downstairs to the hallway, leaving you speechless. “Hey!” you called out to her, stumbling across your way back down. 

“Hi Moonie, I finally met you for real.” she talked with your cat as you watched, confused and speechless. “Wait, so, if you’re a ghost, then it was you who has been messing with my head recently!” you knelt next to Moonie with Minjeong who was petting your cat insanely. 

“Sorry, I’m what they would’ve called a poltergeist.” she stated, smiling gently. Though there was something off about her aura and the way she moved. It was so…welcoming but something was telling you she was a stop sign. 

“How come I can see you?” you tried to touch her but only to be met by your finger going through her shoulder. Minjeong chuckled as she looked at you. “Well, I am only visible to those who believe in ghosts. That old man was surely over my head. God I’m glad he’s out of my house.” she confessed. 

Smiling gently back at her, in response you say as you shrug your shoulders. “Well, he told me not to go up there alone and at night, maybe he knew there is a ghost here.” 

Minjeong’s face relaxed, you two clicked together so fastly it was too much for both of your plates. “I figured by the fact he sold the house for such a cheap price.” she joked as you both laughed. 

Taking a breath to contain each other you pet Moonie who was laying on her back, showing her tummy to you. “I’m actually very surprised you can see me. nobody has ever…believed in me.” 

Minjeong’s tone shifted so suddenly it made you shiver, as if she was venting. “Well, It’s the kind of person I am.” nervously chuckling, you notice Moonie giving you a certain eye. 

“I’m glad you are.” Minjeong answers, looking at Moonie. 

As if she was uncomfortable, she grasped Minjeong's hand off when she petted her. As if the ghost girl was the start of a bad chapter of your life—or perhaps the last chapter. 

What are you telling me, Moonie? You asked yourself, talking to her through thoughts as she curled up in your lap. 

Yawning, you remind yourself of the time, “Oh, Minjeong, could you look at the clock and tell me what time it is?” your head peered at the clock above the desk, eyes struggling to define what time it is. Minjeong obeyed without a single word and flew towards the clock. She tilted her head while doing so before landing on her feet. “Quarter to 4Am”

Widening your eyes you brush your fingers through your hair. “I should sleep, promise me you wont break any more vases?” you pick up Moonie in your embrace, letting her claw her claws in the back of your shoulder as you slowly walk to the bed. “Yes ma’am” Minjeong said, straightening her palm as if getting a command. 

With one last chuckle you and Moonie curl up together on the bed. “Thank you and…good night.” 

Minjeong nodes as she flies away back into the attic, through the ceiling. 

2PM

For the next 2 or 3 months you and Minjeong grew closer together. 

She’d still mess with you but only to get your attention. As if she was getting to like you and know you more. And so did you. 

Something about Minjeong made your timbers shiver, your blood rushing and reflexes being more active due to some coldness. On the other hand, you felt a gentle presence with her, she was as gentle as honey but as sour as candy. 

Though your cat Moonie was getting even more suspicious. The more time you spent with Minjeong the more she started getting more aggressive when the ghost girl was around. 

Today she even hissed at Minjeong. Her gray fur ruffled in an instant when Minjeong tried to pet her. Of course she couldn’t scratch, but she could speak. “What’s up Moonie, hm?” You gently asked. 

While Minjeong stayed silent, still and listened to what you’re saying to the cat. 

The awkward silence fell between the 3 beings as you gently put the cat down off your lap, letting her drink her daily dose of milk. 

It was a weird morning for all of you, but for a second thought, you needed them as quiet as this. 

“I don’t know what’s up, do you think…I did something wrong?” Minjeong’s eyes held an unspoken secret she couldn’t tell just like that. Her presence and aura became twisted. Either being a mystery or a secret. “Maybe she's still just getting used to you since you’re���dead.”

She tilted her head, looking at your freshly made breakfast. Keeping a serious poker face while sitting on the chair on the right from you. 

She welcomed you in her original house so gently and she was so nice it made you feel a certain nostalgia from her. Though you knew she’s a living dead girl–moreover a ghost. 

But you couldn’t not develop small feelings for her. It bothered you that you couldn’t touch her, hug her—kiss her? 

It all wrapped in your head in a single thought.

You weren’t sure if she felt the same, but you were glad she was keeping you company for at least a little while. However, you have to admit—Minjeong said some disturbing things from time to time.

“You know…animals can sense things whether alive or not.” Minjeong mumbled while staring at you, who was taking a bite of your lunch. Right after you stopped in your trances and looked at her confusedly.

“Said what?” you waited through the chews. “Nothing,” she refused to say. “just saying she doesn’t quite like me.” your gaze fell on your lunch before looking back again. “Don’t say that, she’ll grow to like you I’m sure.” 

Minjeong chuckled nervously as she let you eat in silence—knowing that wasn’t gonna happen any soon.

If only you knew you should’ve thought more about what signs Moonie was giving to you. 

5.40PM

When evening fell upon the small town,a dazzling sight of sunfall colored the sky in pink colors and shades. With clouds making a peaceful delight. You stared outside the window while Minjeong slowly curled up next to you on your bed—watching the sunset together. 

“Say Minjeong,” you start, leaning your head closer to her trying not to make it fall through. “When did you become a ghost?” 

The question lingered through the air as well as your soft breathing. Minjeong peeked her head up from your shoulder as she stared at the sky—remembering. 

“I think it was right when they buried me,” she stated, grasping the memory. “In the cemetery nearby, you probably saw it already.”, you nodded in understanding. The cemetery wasn't far from here so you knew where it was just like she said. 

“And well I don't know how but ghosts lure the place where they died,” she fidgeted her fingers. “I hung myself in the attic.” 

“Why did you?” Curiosity filled your tone but with a pinch of empathy. Minjeong took a second to rethink and recall her emotions until she was ready to answer you. 

“Because my life was…horrible” she looked up at you—hatred filled her eyes, not sadness, hatred. “I hated them all, humans.” you felt your eyebrows twitch in reaction. “I wished them all suffering.” 

Though your eyes didn't widen, they were surprised but stayed calm. 

“I-I mean…” as if being caught she tried to explain, to get as much of your understanding. Her eyes looked away from yours for a brief second. “I was used to being…lonely even when I was alive. My parents would beat me up if I did something wrong and lock me in the attic.” her voice cracked.

“Just here, in this house, lonely. And they acted so innocent by…disappearing.” Minjeong looked down as you tapped her shoulder. She still felt the reassurance even if your hand could easily slip through her. “Disappearing?” you couldn’t help but to ask what she meant by her parents disappearing. 

“Pretty sure they killed themselves too when I attempted…” Harsh words fell so easily off her lips, her expression was sad but she spoke so well— as if reciting. “It's so ironic because they were the ones who brought me pain and they took advantage of it.” 

Both took a moment of silence to gather their thoughts. A draft breezed through the halls of the house. The sun was already down. It was just a question of time when the darkness of the night would fall onto the town too. 

“I’m really sorry you had to live like that.” you comforted, seeing the sun almost being fully down. “But, is it better being a ghost?” 

Your eyes reassured Minjeong’s state as you waited for an answer— letting your comforting aura swallow her despair.  

“It might be for some. But even though I have more freedom, I still wish I lived a little longer.” Minjeong confessed before continuing. 

“Maybe, if I lived longer I would’ve met…you, in person.” her eyes searched for yours as she finally got a reaction out of you. Your inner face muscles tensed up as your heart started to beat with a rhythm. 

You swore you saw Minjeong’s eyes stare at you with the same feeling you felt at the moment. Slowly, she was starting to get closer and closer to you. Your breath hitched at her cold presence right in front of your face. Until, you swallow and let her do what she wants. 

Minjeong kissed you—passionately and gently. Heartfelt, as if you're the only one for her no matter dead or alive. Her left hand intertwined with your right as her other hand cupped your cheek. Sliding her hand across the back of your head. 

You melted into her touch. It was surreal you weren't able to touch her back. But the kiss was the only thing you felt with her. 

Maybe it was the only thing you wanted to feel, but right now you wanted to enjoy it. Minjeong was getting even closer to you, making you fall on your bed. While laying on your back, Minjeong pulled you into a heated kiss once again, your body heating up as well. For a ghost, she was an excellent kisser. 

Her presence was as cold as ice but it was like the kiss of death. As both of you gasped for air, Minjeong slightly smirked upon your figure while you just eyed her. 

You chuckled against each other as Minjeong rested her forehead against yours, scrunching your nose against hers. Until your laughter was interrupted by your cat, Moonie. 

Flinching at the sudden meow you exhale a relieving breath. You called out to Moonie. “Hiya Moonie, what's uppp?” with a cutest smile ever. Moonie just stood in front of the room entrance, carefully eyeing Minjeong. Her head perked up as Minjeong sat up on the bed. 

As if the two were talking to each other through telepathy. Though you caught the glimpse of a constipated sharp look on Minjeong’s face. Her eyes were clearly focused on Moonie, losing its spark after kissing you. You swallowed thickly. Something about Minjeong felt… off. Like she was waiting for something— testing the waters.

Her eyebrows furrowed as you notice her tongue scrolling across her inner teeth and cheeks. It all felt so foggy. The change in the aura, it made you think, what was between these two?

“Minji?” The nickname fell easily off your lips. Minjeong’s head peered gently towards you, a small smile growing on her face. “Is everything alright?” sitting up you reassure her by the shoulder. 

Minjeong’s gaze smiles at you with a hideous smile. “Of course!” She started, until glaring back at Moonie again. “Moonie just…interrupted us.” her words lingered in the air as if on a tight string. You grasp out of her embrace and stand up from bed, 

“I'll go get her some milk,” you look back at her with a chill expression, not thinking much of their silent propaganda. 

“Imma be right back” Though as soon as you stepped into the cold hallway, an eager silence swallowed the air. Minjeong tried to grip your wrist back but you left already, leaving her alone.

The soft distant noise of your voice calling Moonie’s name, trying to get her to come downstairs filled the silence of the house

Moonie, still rooted in place, didn’t move or didn’t even look at you. Her figure remained sitting still in front of your room, her big green eyes staring right back at Minjeong—intensely. 

And Minjeong stared right back. As if Moonie knew what was on the ghost’s mind. Their gaze held something hidden and it wasn't such a good day to be just a cat. Until then, Moonie decided to walk away and hurry to drink her milk you prepared for her. 

Alone in the poorly lit room, the ghost girl tilted her head, her grin slowly fading into something else—something she didn't plan on showing you just yet. Her eyebrows twitched and she exhaled sharply, her jaw tightening with every thought.

“oh Moonie…” she whispered to herself, her voice barely untreatable. 

Then, with a sudden shift, her lips curved again—but this time, it wasn’t a smile. It was something strategic and darker.

“You’re in our way.”

The next day everything went very well. You woke up on the right leg and you were in a good mood. The sunlight wakes you up with a smile this time. But you needed to get out of the house to go to your college lessons. While packing your laptop and notebooks or anything you needed for today's lessons, you felt a pair of 2 ghost eyes on you right behind you. 

“Do you have to go?” Minjeong playfully grumbled across the room. Flying closer to you, upside down she crossed her arms. Chuckling you take your wallet, holding a pair of coins in your hand before sliding it in. “Don’t worry Minji,” you poke her nose. “I’ll be back before you know it.”

Minjeong pouted while following you to the front door. Before leaving, you notice Moonie laying still on the couch and so you went to pet her. Moonie purrs against your touch, melting into your gentle grazes against her gray fur. Minjeong just eyed your every move, crossed arms while resting on the wall right next to the door. 

When it is finally time to leave, you kiss Minjeong goodbye and close the door behind you, locking it and hiding the key in the boots on the terrace 

If only you knew leaving for college would be your biggest regret for today’s day. 

6.30PM

Lessons were pretty boring as usual and your professor was just babbling and yapping. Your head rested on the edge of your palm, looking at the blackboard and the chalk written notes on it. 

When they were finally over all of your lectures, you looked at the watch on your wrist. You walked down the quartz staircase and headed home. The fresh evening breeze washed over your hair, your muscles relaxed at the February coldness but tense up again right after you bumped into a familiar man. 

The old rusty man who sold you the house. “Oh! I’m sorry mister, are you alright?” you worried with a nice tone as he rubbed the top of his head with a chuckle. “Don’t worry I’m fine. Are you getting comfortable in your house?” he looks up at you with a curious look. 

With a tense smile you reply back, “Ah yes, I certainly am.” with the last said word, the old man becomes quietly furious. “I don’t believe you.” he started. Taking you by the wrist to whisper a secret in your ear. You tried to grasp away but you couldn’t shake the feeling of curiosity that fueled inside after he mentioned your beloved ghost girl—Minjeong. 

“I know you’re experiencing paranormal activities there.” how did he know?—you thought. 

“I forgot to mention you something, and that is that they girl who committed suicide didn’t just end herself–she also killed her parents.” 

The sour feeling at the back of your head formed when he told you those words. Your mouth began to dry out of realization as your eyes stayed still. Muscles tensing up as you looked at the old man’s serious expression—he was telling anything but lies. 

“But she isn’t doing much just…moving stuff… around.” you state while fishing for the words, the man gently pulled away from your wrist. “I’m telling you to be careful so she doesn’t do something…out of nature.”

The old man’s words repeated in your head as you walked home, each step feeling heavier than the last. The thought of Minjeong killing her parents compared with the soft-spoken, interesting girl you had grown so close to. Could she really have done something so horrifying? 

Or even better question to ask yourself—who was lying between the two, her or him?

Your house formed ahead, its windows glowing faintly in the dark. You swallowed the lump in your throat, pushing the doubt aside. No, you told yourself. She wouldn’t hurt me.

Unlocking the door, you stepped inside, greeted by the familiar chill in the air. “I’m home,” you called, slipping off your shoes. Silence. That was odd—Minjeong always greeted you, either by floating in front of you dramatically or making some sarcastic comment about how long you took.

Then, you noticed it.

The house felt odd—different. The air was heavier, almost suffocating. A strange silence fell upon the house. Your eyebrows furrowed as you stopped in your trances. “Minji?” you called out the mysterious ghost girl while looking around. Your eyes searched for your russian blue gray cat, maybe on the sofa sleeping or eating in the kitchen.

But Moonie was nowhere to be seen, especially not from her usual spot. 

It was hanging so weirdly off your mind that you tilted your head in confusion. Until you heard a familiar draft—an intro to Minjeong’s presence. The coldness surrounded the room as you looked up. Minjeong walked softly towards you and gave you a hug. “You’re back.” she exclaimed with a smile and kissed you on the cheek. A smile creeped on your cheeks as you melted into her touch, but like the salty feeling on a fresh wound you couldn’t shake off the feeling something was off. 

“Hi, Minji.” you replied back, walking to the kitchen. Before you could ask immediately, Minjeong bombarded you with unusual questions that weren’t as much in her nature. “How was college? I never asked you which one you are going to? Do you go everyday cause this is the first time you went?—”  Your lips parted at her expression. Minjeong was leaning on the kitchen counter with a smile on her face and eyes widened with curiosity—as if she wanted to keep you distracted. 

“O-oh well, I’ll answer everything but I have a question for you.” Minjeong straightened her back, tilting her head. “You didn’t happen to see where Moonie left? she’s not here how I see.” 

Distracted from what? 

“Oh…” Minjeong mumbled, looking at the direction you were darting your eyes at, Moonie’s small bed next to the couch. “Well…” she tries to form a sentence as you wait. “Did she go outside or?” a possible answer creeped through your words. “Yes! I think I saw her going outside, she didn’t come back yet though.”

Distracted from the fact you won’t be seeing Moonie ever again.

“Oh, I see.” you look down at your bag with your laptop and stuff you brought to today’s college lectures. “Well I hope she comes back till dinner, I brought her a little snack.” you take out Moonie’s favorite fish food she usually ate for dinner. In response Minjeong fakes a smile, “I’m sure she will.” 

9PM

As the evening stretched on, you couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling in your stomach. Moonie never stayed outside for this long—she hated the cold. Even refusing to go outside this late even if she was with you. A pit formed in your stomach as you moved toward the front door, slipping on your jacket.

“I’m going to look for her, I’ll be right ba—” you said, reaching for the handle.

Minjeong, who had been lingering unusually close, tensed. “I don’t think that’s a smart idea,” she murmured, her voice soft yet firm.

You paused, turning to face her. “Why not?”

She hesitated for just a second, tightening the grip on her crossed arms. “It’s late. You’re tired. You don’t have to—”

But you were already stepping outside, the crisp air hitting your face as you fast walked to the porch. Your heart pounded heavily as your eyes scanned the yard, searching for any sign of your green eyed cat. Then, something caught your attention near the side of the small garden. Since it was dark you turned on the backyard light.  

The harsh wind breezed, owls howling and brief silence of the night. Slowly walking through the garden something caught your eye. A group of flies, beetle ants and other corpse eating bugs gathered around a certain spot in the dirt. 

A long gray but thin bulge that looked like a cat's tail, surrounded by insects that were curiously digging deeper into the earth to eat as much rot as possible.

Your breath hitched, your hands crashing to your mouth. 

“Moonie?” Your voice cracked, barely a whisper. “Oh no, no—”

Rushing forward, you collapsed on your knees in front of her. Moonie’s body lifelessly laid in the sour dirt. Her fur is much darker from dirt and her once-bright green eyes were dull and empty. You tried to reach out with trembling hands, but you couldn’t. A choked tear escaped your throat and slipped off your eyes.

Behind you, Minjeong sighed. “I told you not to go look.”

Your head snapped up. The cold that had been lingering in the air thickened, suffocating. The same one like earlier after coming home.

Minjeong stood right behind you, looking down, her hands brushing over your hair, tangling small circles through. Her expression— unreadable. The usual warmth in her eyes had faded into something distant— something she expected. 

“You knew she was here?” Your voice cracked between sorrow and anger. Kneeling down in front of the scene. “I did,” Minjeong admits, her voice managing to be soft spoken even through a moment like this. You stood up, finding comfort in her embrace. “But I knew how much she meant to you,” she gripped your shoulders as you cried silently. 

“I didn't want to trouble you.” The thought of your cat, who has been by your side ever since you started living alone—your familiar, dead in front of you. All for what?, you weren’t sure how it happened. You clenched your fists. “Still, why didn’t you tell me?” you whispered, your voice calming down even under the grief.

Minjeong sighed, resting her chin on your head. “Because you would’ve looked at me differently.”

Your figure stiffened at those words. With a slow move, you pull away just enough to look at her face. “What do you mean?” eyes furrowed and eyebrows tightened. 

She gazed at you, a quiet disturbance in her eyes as they looked at yours. As if there was a thunderstorm forming in her eyes, meeting the sun. 

“You already suspect me, don’t you?”

Her words sent a cold chill down your spine and through your veins. It’s true—You had been doubting her ever since you met her, and the old man’s warnings just fueled the burning feeling in your heart

You wondered if she was truly who she claimed to be. But you never wanted to believe or admit it— you couldn’t.

Minjeong’s hands cupped your cheeks, forcing you to look at her. Her touch was freezing, but her eyes were warm, pleading. “You love me, don’t you?”

Your eyes fell down. “I… I do.”

“Then believe me.” Her thumbs brushed away your tears, her voice soft, hypnotic. “I never wanted to hurt you.”

“But Moonie—”

“She didn’t like me,” Minjeong interrupted gently, tilting her head. “She’s just a cat,” harsh words fell off her lips so easily. “She didn’t like us.”

Her voice wavered, breaking at the last word. You watched her, torn between the horror of her confession and the pain in her expression.

It was so easy to get lost in her—her presence, her voice, the way she made you feel like you were the only thing that mattered. But then again, the feeling only  you mattered terrified you more than anything.

“Minjeong I…” you slowly walked with her to the entrance of your house. “I don’t know what’s happening at the moment. Ever since I met you things have been really…out of nature.” your saddened gaze locking with Minjeong’s who was dead serious. 

After getting inside, silence occurred between the two of you. Your mind washed over the fact you have to bury your cat—since she deserved it the most without doubt.

Until, Minjeong asks you, 

“Is that what he said?” 

Your mind went blank, stopping in your walk to the upstairs as you swiftly moved to face her again. “The old man I mean, did he tell you that?” her presence was now—unwelcoming. 

It felt as unwelcoming as the times she was messing with the stuff in the house, acting like a real poltergeist. Your eyes, wide open, scanned her figure that was just waiting for your answer right down. 

You tried to form at least a yes or no answer, but stutters just left your mouth. 

“After all we’ve been through,” she takes a step closer to you on the stairs. “After all the things I’ve told you about myself,” another step. 

“You still doubted my love.” now she had you completely—hopeless. “I-I’m just not sure who to believe, not like I can do anything about it—”  you tried to explain, taking a step back, but Minjeong just stepped forward. Crushing your mind and soul. 

You’d lie if you said you didn’t grow to love the ghost girl—you really did, but right now,

“If you really love me, you’d believe…” 

you were feeling pretty sick. 

“me.” 

Minjeong was dangerous in ways that you desired, a desire for change and something eternal. “You love me, don’t you?” she whispered.

You whispered, “I do” with your breath hitching. 

She shushed you softly, her thumbs brushing away your tears. Her forehead against yours. “I love you, too,” she murmured, her voice hypnotic, intoxicating you, “But we can’t be together if you choose someone else.” A shiver crawled up your spine. “I don’t want to be alone anymore.”

“Minjeong you’re not alone, you have me—” “But you’ll leave, just like everyone else.”

You swallowed hard, feeling the weight of her words settle into your chest. “W-what are you saying, I would never—”

“Oh but you eventually will, dear.” 

she cut you off, her grip tightening just slightly. Her eyes dug into yours, deep and unreadable. “You’ll grow older,” she continued, "your life will change, and I’ll still be here. Alone, watching you slip away from me, just like everyone else.”

Her words wrapped around you and your feelings. Like a snake wrapping its body tightly to suffocate its prey to death. “Minjeong…” Your voice whispered.

She smiled, but this time it was gentle, almost reassuring. “You don’t have to go through that. We don’t have to go through that.”

The lights flickered, shadows creeping at the edges of your vision. The air felt too thick, pressing against your skin.

“We can be together forever,” she whispered, guiding your hands into a hug, her fingers ghosting over your figure. Hugging you while her fingers draped over your waist and upper back. “Just you and me.”

Her grip was ice cold, but the warmth in her voice made you weak to your knees. “You’d never have to wake up in a world where I don’t exist.”

Your heart pounded. “I really love you, Minji. I do.” you grip her cheeks. “But promise me…” starting your eyes held hesitation. “Anything, I’ll do anything for you to stay.” her eyes sparked a sense of glow and hope at your words. 

“Promise me Moonie is in good hands now.” Your words still full of tears at the change of events, Minjeong tenderized her expression—softening. “I’m sure if you’re happy, she’s happy too.” 

A smile formed on your face as you worriedly looked at her eyes, with tears of joy. “There we go.” she whispered, chuckling back as she moved a strand of hair from your face. “Now…do you trust me? be honest, love.” though before you could answer she gently took your hand and led you towards the familiar hallway—to the attic. 

As if hypnotized, your eyes followed her all the way. “I do, please believe me.” you begged, your words convincing Minjeong. Minjeong just smiled at you, offering her hand to climb on the attic. 

“I knew you’re the one.” Minjeong whispered as you gently grasped for her hands, going to the attic, the door unnoticeably closing with each step taken. 

“I’ll finally be able to hug you for real.” she mumbled, leading you to something she also had done, years years ago. “Or kiss for real,” you teased, chuckling at your words. 

Before the last action, Minjeong’s taller figure takes you in for a last kiss. 

A kiss of death. 

Feeling something rusty but clothed wrap around your neck, you gasped for air. “It might hurt, love, I apologize in advance.” Minjeong exclaimed as she pulled the rope tighter, lifting you higher as your reactions muffled your attempts for breathing the air. 

“But I know you can take it, my love, stay still.” she reassured as she watched your body losing its spark and just hung. 

Hanging from the same place Minjeong hung off when she committed.

Suddenly, after a minute or 2 of silence, Minjeong saw your soul fall to the ground. With an evil chuckle she lets go of the rope and walks over to you who was leaning on your arms. 

Your hands were— see-through, the same as Minjeong’s hands. You were no longer you.

Your body was now transparent and fragile as glass. The world before you had faded into a haze of muted colors and distant voices, none of them your own. 

Minjeong stood before you, her eyes gleaming like stars—sharp and cold. The cruel smile she wore was not the same one she had shown when she first touched you, when you were alive. No, this one was different. It was the smile of a victory— a lover who had won in the self twisted way.

"You thought you could escape," she whispered, her voice now a soft, haunting lullaby in the silence of the attic. "But you are mine now. I’ll take good care of you." Minjeong grasped over your cheeks as she kissed you, feeling the smoothness of your lips. Realizing what her plan was you didn’t know if you were impressed or perhaps, disappointed. There was no escape now, no light and no solutions. 

Your existence was completely committed to her, only her. “You wanted this moment to happen too, didn't you?” Her breath ghosted against your ear.

Your lips parted, the word forming, the final choice lingering between your heartbeat and the silence.

“I feel I did.” you nervously smiled,

Minjeong also smiled back, and the last thing you felt was her arms pulling you into a final, eternal embrace.

Eternal love with no escapes, no light and no solutions. 

A wicked love streamed by haunting—a wicked haunting.

[ma1dita]

written all over your face

'between certainties and doubts' installment  part of the mean!remus agenda, aka a moment from a terrifyingly convoluted teenage situationship between remus lupin and an unidentified Hogwarts student (x fem!reader)  wc: 2k  a/n: the stupid map is almost mocking him now that school’s back in session. since when were you so popular…with everyone?? jealousy trope, some self-deprecation from remus as usual, surprise at the end. feel free to send requests for them!

—

Messrs Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs

Purveyors of Aids to Magical Mischief-Makers

are proud to present…

THE MARAUDER'S MAP

“Come on mate, you’ve been staring at that thing for hours—it still says the same thing,” James drones from his spot on the floor, “Or at least it should, last I checked.”

Silence is his response, and a paper ball that suspiciously looks like Peter’s Transfiguration homework hits the bridge of his nose, effectively breaking his reverie. He takes a glance down at the crumpled scribbles, and tuts.

“P, you spelled Grindelwald wrong. Two Ls,” he squints harder, “same with McGonagall—how’d you miss that?” 

“Listen Moony, I’m good at actual Transfiguration,” the blond groans as Remus passes the poorly straightened parchment back down to him, a pale cheek resting on the wooden foot of the bed, “jus’ dunno why we have to write so much about it. Maybe Minnie hates me and wants me to die.” James snorts at the notion, “Don’t say that Wormy, we’d be much less entertaining without you!”

“And far less entertained as well,” Sirius scoffs against his pillow as he wordlessly turns James’ hair different colors with subtle swishes of his wand—green, then blue, then red, before the bespectacled boy looks up and shrieks. Contrary to popular belief, James Fleamont Potter is much more touchy about his hair than Sirius is—being the heir to the Sleakeazy’s empire does that to you; not a hair out of place growing up in more ways than one. The noise distracts Remus from his earlier task and the furrow in his brow deepens as he taps the bewitched parchment once more with his wand.

Messr Padfoot would like Messr Moony to know that the special missus is still on her way to the Great Hall with Kingsley Shacklebolt, as she was the last time he checked five minutes ago. 

Remus’s eyes flicker toward the actual Padfoot currently lazily flipping through his stack of records for something to play.

Sometimes their charmwork was more perceptive than they were. The guilt eats at Remus whenever he closes his eyes—hiding the secret of you from the boys that have accepted him body, soul, and wolf makes his head hurt when he thinks too much. Which he always does.

And now he’s thinking about how he’s more worried about what their reaction would be—would they think him to be foolish? Unkind, for stringing you along, a forever so forbidden to him that Remus can’t even fathom what a future with you would look like.

He won’t let himself get that far. To do that would be a death worse than the fate he’s been handed for this life. But he’s not alone—and for now, that works completely fine enough.

He hasn’t been listening to the conversation, their chatter going in one ear and out the other, and James notices.

“I dunno, red might be a good look on me,” he chortles, “Whatcha think, Moony?”

The words are almost branded into the back of his brain for how long he’s been staring at this stupid map. 

It’s like it’s mocking him. 

Messr Padfoot thinks Messr Moony should just grow a pair and ask the bird out. 

Messr Wormtail agrees, and thinks that maybe she’d like flowers. Not button mums though, save those for when you go crying to mummy about how you waited too long and missed your chance.

Perish the thought—the magic taking form in the personality of his three best friends—his brothers, if he were ever fortunate to have any, ribbing at Remus’ misfortune of being so protective over a girl he can’t even call his. He’s been hogging the blasted thing since they got back for the start of fall term, and is starting to run out of excuses for why it’s still in his possession whenever he sneaks around Hogwarts. Prefect duty is barely an excuse since James got promoted.

“Remmy boy, are you even listening to a word we’re saying, mate?”

He shakes his head of the reverie he’s put himself in, the sounds of you cooing his name in the dark of night echoing in the blood that rushes through his ears (and other things). But to the boys—that was as much of a response Remus has given them in the past two hours. 

He’s too busy following the trail of tiny footprints with your name floating above it. 

Messr Prongs thinks Messr Moony is a right idiot and can’t believe that he’s gonna let a numpty like Shacklebolt steal his girl?

All of them groan playfully, eyes flickering among the three until suddenly, they dogpile onto the brunet who feels the added weight in the creaking of his bones (and his bed—this thing is about to smash into pieces).

“Blimey. Siblings or dating is what it looks like, is that what you want me to say?” Remus huffs frustratedly, a tangle of dirty socks and elbows in his face as he pushes them off one by one—Sirius somehow still makes a spot for himself, denim-covered arse on Remus’ pillow (which he’ll need to remind himself to change the sheets later).

“Who pissed in your cereal this morning, Moony? There will be ginger Potters running around one day, I’ll make sure of it!”

“Godric forbid, Prongs. Sounds like a threat!” Peter grins.

“Why are you here again? And making so much unnecessary noise? Don’t you have a swanky dormitory that you could be snogging your girlfriend in, Mr. Head Boy?”

“If I had that privilege, I’d take advantage of the amenities—” Sirius waggles his eyebrows to all of them then interjecting, “WE KNOW!”

Sorry, not Messr Moony’s girl. Since he gets so touchy about the specifics.

The parchment is plucked out of Remus’ reach, and with it, his intentions of finding out what exactly your business is with Kingsley Shacklebolt. And Edgar Bones. And Dorcas Meadowes and Pandora Rosier too, for the hell of it. Those girls have been glaring at him since passing the Marauders’ train car on the Hogwarts Express and Remus thinks they know something they’re definitely not supposed to.

Fuck, he’s really got to get his head on straight about what to do with you. A few ideas come to mind, the visage of you swathed in summer so far away from his reach now, when the future was something he could meld with his fingertips and kiss into your skin.

“I just miss the old times,” James says amidst the laughter that fills the cramped dormitory, “This, all of us—when everything was so much easier. Can’t blame a guy for wanting it all back now that the real world is creeping in on us.”

The comment almost evaporates into thin air, a moment of contemplation before Sirius and Peter are whacking him so hard with pillows that the down feathers sprinkle down overhead like freshly fallen snow.

For a moment it feels like back then.

And Remus finds himself missing moments he’ll probably never get again.

With no time for excuses, he snatches the cloak slung across James’ bag and storms out of there as fast he can. 

“Can I borrow this? Thanksmatebebacklater—Got something important to do!”

—

Remus’ pops out from behind a column and you swear there was no possible way he could’ve been there as you walked past seconds prior. 

“Merli—Mmf!”

The cool concrete makes you flinch as you’re backed into it and Remus is kissing you senseless, almost as if he has something to prove.

And laughter bubbles up his throat, spilling into your smile when he realizes you’re kissing him back. You can taste it off his lips, raw from being gnawed on and a smidge of chocolate he nibbled on his sprint here to make himself feel better

Kissing you has done that and more—soothing the aching feeling he’s had in his chest all week. You’re not pushing him away and clearly not stumbling into shadowy corners with anyone else but him. Remus is pressing you against the wall so firmly that if you were a ghost you might phase through it. But it’s delicious to be devoured like this, much more so when he does it like a man starved. He’s propping one of his knees between yours when you break away in a daze, lips swollen and slick that they mirror the candlelight twinkling off your eyes.

“Not that I’m complaining, but what the hell has gotten into you?”

There’s a stupid smile on your face that has his name on it when he sighs so loudly it wracks through his whole body in a wave of desperation.

“Do you know how fucking hard it is to get you alone these days?”

Blinking slowly, your eyes flicker back down to his lips with a smirk, and his index finger pushes your chin up so you look at him again, “Lovely, eyes up here.”

“You’re jealous.”

“I…” Remus shakes his head slowly at first, then rapidly as the insinuation sets in, “Am not!”

“You do know I have a life outside of you right?” You say crossing your arms cooly. The way your eyelashes flutter at him reddens his cheeks, being so easily caught in a lie. He used to be better at that—now he’s letting your fist wrap around his tie and tug him down like a lovesick fool.

Which he is not.

“Of course you do. I’m not at all bothered that I don’t have you to myself anymore,” he mutters through a scrunched face, “Go hang out with Bones some more, bet he’s dying to give you his o—” You squeeze his face in your hands, lips coming into a disgruntled pucker as you grin.

“Dunno, you sound pretty bothered, baby.”

Evil, evil witch. 

The pet names come easier for him but from you they’re a special treat—only used when you’re ruffling some feathers or when you get what you want out of him. Remus glares at you now, knowing he’d eat out of the palm of your hand if he wasn’t careful.

“You could have whomever you want,” he grits, scratching the nape of his neck, “Even the boys think so. I’ve heard them say it.”

“And unfortunately,” you peck his lips, “I want you. Can I please go to dinner now?” You sidle out of his warm grasp, narrowly avoiding the fingers that chase your hips as you swivel towards the other end of the hallway with a playful glance. 

“Besides, I’ve already kissed James,” you reveal with a grin as if nothing of the sort.

“WHAT?”

You were third-years and paired up for a Potions project and a conversation about his crush on Lily led to him spilling his guts about his mortifying fear of being too inexperienced for her. You told him you had never kissed anyone before either. The shared giggles led to an awkward and then very pleasant first kiss and then tentative snog in the Potions cupboard, a vial of powdered unicorn horn raining down iridescent sparkles.

Quite magical, for a bunch of fourteen year olds, but the less Remus knows is better. His jaw is clenched and if you weren’t sure before, he is definitely bothered now. 

“Two down, two to go—HEY!”

—

James sneezes quite unglamorously, like a foghorn, or an avalanche with a landslide rolling off his shoulders as they shake. And then another time, one that echoes straight into his girlfriend’s eardrum and Lily grimaces.

“Blimey, James. Cover your mouth!”

“I dunno, sweetheart! Just came over me,” he sniffs, pushing his glasses back up. Sirius leans over the table, knocking over a goblet of pumpkin juice straight into Peter’s lap, “Pads!”

“This girl I used to see always said if you sneezed twice, someone was talking shit about you.”

“With the record you four have, you’d all be sent to St. Mungo’s,” Marlene drones, flicking a spoonful of peas into Sirius’ hair. 

There’s an empty spot next to Peter, James notices, even if the boy is eating for two. Excusing himself, he steps out into the hall and blows his nose into a napkin from his pocket, pulling out the map as well.

A simple tap of his wand reveals the truth, his hazel eyes widening at the sentence that writes itself with no preamble.

Messr Moony is up to no good with a lovely Miss…

The letters of your name spell themselves out slowly, along with two pairs of footprints sharing a space in the corner of the parchment, and he cannot believe his eyes—but then the distraction leads to Filch confiscating the blasted thing for good.

“Mischief managed!”

—

[navierae]

Because I Missed You

CHARACTERS: James Potter x Reader Summary: An unexpected reunion with your old friends from Hogwarts causes your once buried feelings for the spectacled boy to resurface unexpectedly. a/n: bye this is my first time writing this long and for James Potter no less BUT WHO WOULDNT AM I RIGHT. anyway i hope you guys enjoy! likes, comments, feedbacks and reblogs are highly appreciated !! wc: 2.3k

“It’s the same old feeling back again, it’s the one they had way back when they were too young to know when love is real.”

“That would be $23.45.”

“Hold on,” I open my wallet to take the exact amount out and hand it over to the cashier, making sure that nothing falls, “Here you go.”

“I received the exact amount.” The cashier says, counting how much I gave before putting it in the register and handing over my receipt, “Come again.”

“Thank you.” I take the paper bag containing my groceries, trying to hide how I was slightly struggling with carrying it, my arm strength was something that I was never proud of, makes me glad that I use a wand for self-defense instead of my fists when need be.

I step out of the grocery store and start my journey back to the small apartment I know a few blocks away. It's been a few years since I graduated from Hogwarts, and a few months since I decided to live amongst the muggles. After that incident during 7th year, I thought it was in my best interest to distance myself from anyone who knows me or could possibly recognize me. Though I still keep in touch with some of them, namely Lily Evans, and to be fair, she's really the only I still talk to that has any relation to the wizarding world.

I make it halfway to my apartment when I spot the cafe I frequent during my free time. I need a break, I think to myself as I feel the dull ache in my arms starting to form from carrying my grocery bags. I push the cafe doors open, the smell of coffee and pastries immediately greeting me, as well as the sound of customers talking. My eyes scan the menu, trying to find something I have yet to order, before settling on the Jasmine tea and blueberry muffin. Turns out I'm not in the mood to try something new today.

I go to stand in line behind a group of men who seem to be my age, they're a bit loud if you ask me. Okay, scratch that, they're loud. A guy with the black hair is laughing loudly, and the brunette is pushing him by the shoulder, and the last guy is just looking away. I sigh, looking to the side, trying not to pay attention to them. Just order, pay, wait for it, eat, and then go ho-

“Y/n?”

What. I look back at the front to see who called me, the black haired guy now facing me, I quickly glance at his whole being before focusing on his face. There's no mistaking it, even after all these years, how can I forget him?

“Sirius?” I ask, eyes wide in shock, I didn't expect to see him here. What was he doing here? Wait, if he's here, then the other two are-

“Prongs, Moony, I told you it's y/n!” Sirius taps both of them on the shoulder with a grin on his face, they both turn around with shocked faces mirroring mine. “It’s so good to see you again, y/n! It's been a while hasn't it?” 

I nod with an unsure smile on my face, “Yeah, it has.” I look over them one by one, to see what had changed since the last time I saw them, which was at least three or four years ago now. Remus, who's smiling at me, and Sirius both hadn't changed much, except for the fact that Sirius’ hair is much longer and Remus sporting some scars that weren't there the last time I saw him.

And James… I turn to James and see him wearing the same glasses he wore back then, and the same boyish grin he gave everyone he would come across. His face had a shocked expression on before our eyes met, it turned into one with an awkward smile as he tried to mask whatever he was feeling at the moment. Disgust and the urge to leave as quickly as possible I assume. 

He opens his mouth to say something when the girl at the counter calls out the next customer, making him turn around along with Remus and Sirius, to give their orders. I stare at their backs, their voices mixing into the background, who would've thought I would run into them here out of all places? 

I focus my attention on them as they finish ordering with James paying and leaving to find a seat first, Sirius and Remus face me with hopeful smiles on their faces. “Are you busy? We were hoping we could catch up for a bit, who knows when we would see each other after this?” Remus asks, nodding his head to the direction where James went, eager to hear my answer. 

…That shouldn't be too bad right? Just a quick catch up then we'll be in our separate ways after this. I nod at them, their smiles growing as they leave to follow James. I step forward and dictate my order while reaching for my wallet, the girl behind the register stops me as I hand over the amount needed. 

“Oh, no need to pay, one of the guys before you offered to pay for whatever you would order.” I furrow my eyebrows before thanking her and walking away to where the boys were seated. “You didn't need to pay for me.” I say as I approached their table, James looks up from their conversation and makes eye contact.

“I know, but I wanted to.” He says smiling, not breaking eye contact, as if daring me to go against him. I stayed silent and stared at him for a few seconds, before saying thanks and sat down at the unoccupied seat. Which was, unfortunately, next to James. The table goes quiet, a somewhat awkward silence falling on us. I busy myself by playing with my fingers under the table and staring at the pattern of the table, when Sirius speaks up.

“So… how have you been y/n? No one has really heard from you since we graduated a few years back.” I look up and see all of them staring at me, the sight taking me back to Hogwarts, where they would be looking at me while listening to me rambling about my day. The only difference was we had grown older, our faces slowly losing our teenage features, being replaced with signs of aging.

I tap my fingers on the tabletop, following the rhythm of the music played by the cafe, wondering where and what to start with. I take a deep breath and open my mouth, deciding to say whatever I think about first.

“I’ve been doing pretty well, you know, with adjusting to living amongst the muggles and living life the way they do.” Smiling, I waited for them to answer after I asked the same question. Sirius says he’s been the lead singer for one of the muggle bands he joined, and that the band had a gig nearby. That explains why they were here in the first place, what were the chances that they would be at this particular cafe out of the numerous other ones that are spread around this town? 

Remus talks about how he became a professor at Hogwarts for Defense Against the Dark Arts, and shared how he would see Severus Snape from time to time and exchange glaring glances at one another. Our conversation was interrupted by our orders getting called to be picked up at the counter. I was about to stand up when a hand was placed on my shoulder, stopping me in place, his hand searing. 

“I’ll get it.” 

He said, smiling at me as he stood up, before walking off. The warmth from his hand had gone cold too quickly, taking it with him, it had only been a few seconds but I was starting to miss it- 

Stop that. Stop that right now. 

My eyes widened as I realized the words that had gone through my mind, that was a highly inappropriate thought about someone, your ex-boyfriend no less. I shake my head and put my focus back on Sirius and Remus in front of me, about to tell Remus to continue his stories while waiting for James to come back, which shouldn’t take him too long. But their eyes were somewhere else, I followed their gaze and saw James talking to a girl our age, well more like the girl was talking to James as he was trying to get our order. We were too far from the counter to hear what it was they were talking about, but judging from how the girl was looking him up and down, I was certain it was flirty remarks disguised as a casual conversation. 

“Ohoho, seems like Prongs has another one trying to get his number, huh Moony? Isn’t she, like, the fifth one today?” Sirius laughs loudly as he swings an arm around Remus’ chair, leaning forward to get a better view of what was happening, the latter just sighs and shakes his head. “Don’t forget to mention that it's only our second day here, and she’s the fifteenth one since yesterday. And I’m pretty sure they all tried to ask him on a date as well.” 

“All tried to ask him on a date”? Did he accept any of those offers? I mean, he doesn’t have a reason to not give one of them a shot, especially if they’re extremely attractive like that girl he’s talking to right now. Makes me wonder how many people asked him out the past few years. Wait, is he even seeing someone right now-

“y/n, stop staring at him so hard, you might burn a hole through him.” I snap out of my train of thought as Sirius taps the space in front of my hand, catching my attention. “You look like how you did when other people asked him out to the yule ball back at hogwarts.” He continued while laughing, my face falling at his comment. Had I been actually…? 

Remus gets startled as he notices the change in my facial expression, he slaps Sirius at his arm while telling him to cut it out, the latter letting out a small yelp at the impact. Remus turns to face me again, slightly hesitating, the next words that came out of his mouth made me grab my things and stand up. 

“But… Do you still like him, y/n?” 

“I’m leaving, it was good to see you guys.” I say as I start heading towards the door, making Remus and Sirius stand up while calling after me. 

Did I actually still like him, even after having no-contact for years? The question remained in my mind as I walked out of the cafe, missing the way James’ expression turned into one of panic when he spotted me going out. Excusing himself from the (one-sided) conversation the girl was having with him and rushing after me, forgetting about the orders. I hear someone yelling out my name, but I pay it no mind, instead opting to yell back. “I have to go, sorry!” 

“y/n, wait a minute!” 

A hand wraps around my wrist, the one that wasn’t carrying anything but my purse, stopping me from going forwards. I turn back and see James panting a bit, his hair ruffled from running, small beads of sweat starting to drip down the sides of his forehead due to the heat of his jacket. We both stopped in the middle of the walkway, no one speaking, the only sounds that can be heard were from around us and his breaths, his hand still keeping me bound to where I stood. 

After catching his breath, he stands up straight, making eye contact with me. “Why’d you leave?” He asks, his eyes searching mine for an answer. I shift and look away, pursing my lips, unsure of what to answer.

“I have things to do.” 

“But your order?”

“I can live without it.” 

Silence falls on us again, my answers rendering him unable to keep the conversation going, and getting the answers that would satisfy his curiosity. I was about to pull my wrist out of his grip, and excuse myself to leave, when he spoke up again.

“I missed you.” I look back at him upon hearing his straight-forward statement. He had missed me? 

“...You did?” He nodded, not missing a beat. Everyday ever since you left he adds. I didn't speak after that,I wasn’t about to let him know that I was the same as him, that there was also never a day that I never thought about him. 

“Can I have your number? So that we can hang out again after this, if you want?” 

“...Alright.” I nod and recite my telephone number, watching as he mouthed the numbers to remember, repeating it two more times. Cute. 

“I can, um, help you with that if you want? It's quite a lot.” He offers to carry some of my groceries, his head gesturing to the paper bags in my other arm. I shake my head, refusing his offer. 

“It’s fine, I can handle it. But, I really have to go now.” I tell him, turning my body away from him, taking my wrist out of his grip in the process. He wants to say something, but ultimately decides against it as he nods his head in understanding. 

“Okay… can we meet each other at this cafe tomorrow then?” He asks.

“I… don’t see why not. Sirius and Remus are also going to be there right?” 

He shakes his head. “No, just the two of us tomorrow.”

I furrow my eyebrows at his answer. Don’t assume things, y/n, ask him why first before you get ahead of yourself.

“Why?”

“Because I missed you.”

[bradleysass]

Cloak - @into-the-jeggyverse - wc: 713

James Potter had never intended to use the cloak.

It had been passed down from his grandfather to his father and, eventually, to him with great ceremony and talk of responsibility and legacy. But, really, have you seen it? It was old and ragged-looking, the fabric tattered at the edges and dull with age. It wasn’t even a particularly good cloak—not lined, not warm, certainly not fashionable in any sense of the word. The only thing it had going for it was the whole invisibility thing.

Which, James had decided, was kind of cool. Not enough to actually wear the thing, mind you, because he was James Potter, and James Potter did not wear ugly cloaks, but cool enough to keep folded under his bed, just in case.

‘Just in case’ turned out to be ‘when he found himself in an empty corridor with his best friend’s younger brother pressed against a wall, hands tangled in his perfectly messy hair, breath stolen from his lungs.’

Regulus Black was a problem. A problem James had not intended to have. A problem that started with a single glance across the Quidditch pitch, followed by stolen insults exchanged in hushed tones, then a maddening realization that the boy had somehow crawled under his skin and made himself comfortable.

Now, here they were—hidden between two towering suits of armor, James pressed up against Regulus as if he could somehow pull them both into the stone itself and disappear. Which would have been great, actually, because footsteps were approaching, and James was fairly certain that was Sirius’ voice.

James pulled back, heart hammering. “Oh, shit.”

Regulus blinked up at him, lips still red and kiss-bitten. “What?”

“Sirius,” James whispered urgently. “Sirius is coming.”

Regulus stiffened immediately. “You have got to be kidding me.”

“Do I look like I’m joking?” James hissed. He wasn’t. He never joked about his impending death, which would be imminent if Sirius caught them.

Regulus exhaled sharply, already glancing around for an escape, but the corridor was a dead end, and they were trapped.

Which was when James had a thought. A horrible, brilliant, ridiculous thought.

“I have an idea,” he said. “Don’t kill me.”

Regulus’ eyes narrowed. “That depends.”

James dug into his bag, fingers closing around the smooth, familiar fabric of the cloak he had sworn he would never use. He yanked it out, draped it over them both, and grinned triumphantly as the world around them shimmered and disappeared.

Regulus inhaled sharply. “What the—”

“Invisibility cloak,” James murmured, tugging him close. “Family heirloom. Sirius has no idea I have it.”

Regulus was still staring at him, wide-eyed and incredulous, but there wasn’t time for questions. Just as James tightened his hold, Sirius rounded the corner with Remus at his side, still talking loudly about something completely irrelevant to the fact that James Potter and Regulus Black were currently pressed against each other under an invisibility cloak, sharing the same breath, and hoping for dear life that Sirius didn’t suddenly develop a sixth sense for secret snogging sessions.

“…so I told McGonagall, ‘Professor, you can’t prove it was me,’ and she said, ‘Sirius, you wrote your name on the wall,’ and honestly, Moony, I think she’s got it out for me.”

Remus sighed. “You did write your name on the wall.”

“Okay, but how do we know it was me? That’s all I’m saying.”

Regulus rolled his eyes, barely breathing, his hands clenched around James’ robes. James bit his lip to keep from laughing.

The moment Sirius and Remus disappeared around the next corner, Regulus shoved him off. “That was stupid.”

James, still grinning, let the cloak slide off his shoulders. “That was genius.”

Regulus scoffed, adjusting his rumpled collar. “That was reckless and ridiculous and—”

“—effective,” James finished for him, leaning in again. “And if you want to snog me again without getting caught, we might need to keep it handy.”

Regulus glared at him, but there was color high on his cheeks, and he didn’t pull away when James nudged their noses together.

“Fine,” he muttered. “But if Sirius does catch us, I’m telling him this was all your idea.”

James smirked. “Deal.”

And then, because James Potter was nothing if not an opportunist, he kissed him again.

[clanslist]

[inkdrinkerworld]

Terrified

Cw: idiots in love, remus being scared of fucking up, maybe some swear words, angst to fluff

Wc: 2.6k

You never want to see Remus again.

Your chest burns as you watch him dance in James’ back garden with a girl who looks nothing like you and all you can feel is bile climbing your throat.

Sure you hadn’t believed him when he’d first asked you out, but his persistence, his kind words and the way he would constantly flirt with you had gotten you to agree to one date.

You’d hoped he was being honest, that he had feelings for you too. Maybe not as strong as yours were, but at least enough.

Now you see you’d been a fool.

One Week Earlier:

Remus and you have been dancing around your feelings for each other for as long as you’ve been friends. You always flirt and tease each other, but nothing ever comes of it. Remus likes you- it sometimes feels a bit more than like, especially when he smells your chamomile conditioner, or when you offer him his favourite sea salt and caramel chocolates.

You feel the same. Remus always wants to buddy read with you, or hear you talk about your day and over the years, you’ve both gotten into a steady routine of either calling or messaging the other before you go to sleep.

It feels very much like the two of you are together already even though you’re not.

Your friends have become annoyed with you both for the amount of teasing banter that’s tossed back and forth that yields nothing.

“Just ask her out, Moony. Bloody fucking ‘ell, you’d swear you didn’t know the girl was tripping up about you.” Sirius moans, sipping his beer as Remus watches you talk with Lily and Mary at the other side of the long table.

You’re all at a pub to celebrate the end of the week, needing drinks after the way work has shafted you all in some way or the other.

You hair’s out tonight, a rare occurrence, and Remus swears that he can smell your shampoo from where he’s sat.

You’ve got on your work pants still, just with a different top- a softer looking top to your usual scrub tops. Even though you’re tired, and the lighting is shit in the pub, Remus’ breath is stolen by you.

“S’not like it would hurt anything.” James chimes in, Remus keeping his eyes on you as he tries to distract himself from acting on his friends’ goading. “C’mon Moony, you’d both be happy together.”

James would never root for you both if he thought there would be any major falling outs and a lack of chemistry, still Remus is hesitant.

It’s a bit different to liking you from the safe title of, ‘just friends,’ to liking you and doing something to turn the title into something else- something more.

You turn in his direction, a wide smile on your face when you find his hazel green eyes across the room.

“You’re far away tonight, Remus.” There’s no real sadness in your voice, but something about your eyes has Remus readying himself to change positions with Mary.

Sirius snickers, “He’s fighting your love, poppet. Doesn’t want to sit too near, lest he embarrass himself.” You frown, twisting a strand of hair around your finger as you examine Remus.

“You don’t actually have to come over.” you say, your mouth curving into a soft pout. Remus doesn’t hesitate in slamming the heel of his shoe into Sirius’ shin.

“Why don’t you come sit with me here, dove? Sirius can go sit with Mary.” you shake your head, turning back to Lily and Mary who glare at Sirius and shake their heads at Remus.

He sighs, sitting back into his chair. Remus’ mood doesn’t brighten till you’re all leaving. James and Sirius have gone to the till to settle up, Mary and Marlene have hitched a taxi, Lily is already in the car per James’ request with the doors locked and you’re standing at the door waiting for Sirius because he’s yours and Remus’ ride home.

“Sirius didn’t mean what he said earlier as anything more than a joke. You know that right dove?” Remus asks gently, scuffing his shoe against the pavement as he takes a drag of his cigarette.

“Mhm.” You pull your arms around you before letting them fall and then reach for the cigarette hanging from Remus’ lips. “Is this the strawberry menthol one?” You ask, looking up at Remus with eyes that seem to ensnare him like a siren ensnares its prey.

“Yeah,” it’s breathy and wispy, unlike Remus in all ways. It isn’t the first time you’ve shared a smoke- you don’t do it half as often as Remus, but every now and then, it’s a nice feeling between your teeth and fingers.

“You also don’t have to just do things to prove them wrong, which is why I gave you the out.” You turn your head to blow the smoke behind you, shoulders dropping just a little more as the smoke curls around your face.

Remus is enraptured. This close he can definitely smell the chamomile shampoo, though it also smells like sterility and sanitizer.

“I don’t need an out when it comes to you,” his hand reaches your lips, thumb dragging against your bottom lip just a second longer than it should before he plucks the cigarette from your mouth.

“You don’t have to keep the flirting up when it’s just Remus.” Your heart is pounding in your chest when Remus doesn’t look away. He tilts his head down towards you just as he takes a drag. It’s a little hypnotic to watch him inhale a little and then breathe out, blowing his smoke just over your shoulder.

Maybe it’s two pints he’d had, loosening his lips, but his words wash over you slowly. “I don’t flirt with you for their benefit, pretty girl. It’s not a farce.”

You feel your palms sweat against your thighs. “Oh really?”

He nods, a small grin spreading on his lips and making him look even hotter with the cigarette hanging from his mouth. “Yes really,” He throws the butt to the floor, stamping it out with the toe of his shoes. “I’ll prove it to you too. How abouts next Saturday, you and I go on a date.”

You shiver when his hand reaches for your elbow, drawing you a tad closer to him and out of the way of the opening door. “Just the two of us?”

Remus chuckles, “That’s how dates usually go, pretty girl.”

You hum, mulling it over in your head. You’re really only dragging it out like this so you don’t seem desperate, just in case this is a joke. “Sure, I’d love to go out with you Remus.”

You’d been excited about the date all week, not telling anyone about it lest you jinx the whole thing. When Friday rolled around you’d been practically bouncing off the walls.

Remus had texted you during the day, a little reminder of the date and the dress code for the fancy restaurant.

Your mind had been reeling with all the outfit options.

In the end, you’d chosen a pretty green dress with silver kitten heels. You’d curled your hair and told Remus you’d meet him at the restaurant.

You’d looked perfect and despite the trepidation over this all being one elaborate joke, you’d been hopeful. So, so hopeful.

Only when you got to the restaurant and texted Remus that you’d been there, he’d not responded.

Twenty minutes passed, then forty five, and you’d almost cried when the pretty waitress came in to ask if you were still waiting or if they could give the table away.

You’d at least ordered a slice of caramel cheesecake and then texted Sirius if you could come over to wallow.

That’s when you’d found out.

“Wallow? Poppet, I’m at a party.”He’s a little hard to hear, but you make him out fine and you frown.

“What party? Is everyone there?” you’re trying to be covert, but with Sirius there is anything but.

“Yeah, Moony’s here too. How come’s you’re not here, poppet?”

You won’t cry on the phone in the middle of the street.

“I’m coming over now.”

And that’s how you find Remus with his hand over your direct opposite’s bum, a flirty smile on his face and where you hear the splinter then shatter of your heart as you watch him kiss her neck.

“Hey poppet, you look like a stunner!” you blush a little, leaning into Sirius just a little. He shoves a red cup into your hand and you hardly even sniff it before knocking the entire thing back without flinching. Sirius laughs, fully impressed. “Okay, I assume you’ve had a rough night?”

“Yeah, but I just came to give this to Remus. When you find him will you give it to him?” Sirius nods, turning to find Remus but you’ve already shoved the box into his hands and making your way to the door.

You spend the entire night in your pyjamas eating the last of your caramel ice cream while you try to remind yourself that you and Remus aren’t a thing. You’re just friends, you just flirt with each other. It wasn’t that serious.

Nothing works, not even when Sirius messages you to tell you he’s never seen cheesecake make someone sad.

You feel a little numb, all through the weekend, avoiding your friends and their invites to bars and brunch.

You last a total of four days, then someone is banging on your door and you have to drag yourself out of bed with messy hair and stained Christmas pyjamas and open the door.

Sirius and James stand on the other side of the door. James is sympathetic, frowning when he spots your red rimmed eyes. Sirius opens his arms to you and the tears are back again.

“Oh poppet. He's a total idiot.” he mumbles, rubbing your back as you sniffle.

“We sent the girls on him,” James says soothingly, squeezing your shoulder.

“He won’t survive them.” you say wetly, stepping back to let the boys in.

Sirius smirks, “Moony’s a fucking twat, he shouldn’t survive them.”

You laugh and so does James. “Isn’t he your best friend?”

James nods, “Yeah, but he can still be a twat, angel girl.” You don’t feel comfortable telling them everything that had happened or everything you felt, but the boys use their tendency of imbuing you with confidence to get you to take a long hot shower, do your hair and find your sexiest outfit. Then, they drive you over to Remus’ apartment. .

Lily, Marlene and Mary are all leaving his apartment when you get there, smirks on their face when they see you.

“Make him work for it.” Mary whispers and you nod, letting Lily kiss your forehead just before sending you to Remus’ door.

“Open your door Remus.” The door opens almost immediately, Remus looks as horrible as you had been before your intervention.

Your friends don’t linger, they all pile into their cars and leave and you’re grateful that for once their nosiness hasn’t overridden their regular senses.

“Fuck,” he mutters, head hung low like he can’t stand to look at you. “Dove.”

“Can I come inside?” you ask and he nods, stepping out of the way so you could walk into his place.

Before you can say anything, Remus tugs your hand to pull you close to him. “Just for a minute.” he mumbles, his arms wrapping around you. Remus can’t stop the deep inhale, all he can smell is you and all he wants to smell is your chamomile shampoo. Maybe even some of your vanilla perfume.

You smell him too, his citrus and mint body wash. His clean cotton laundry detergent and something else that’s distinctly Remus. It feels good to hug him like this, but also you worry about the girl from the other night. You worry about your friendship and what’s going on.

When his hand cups the back of your head and his nose drags along your cheek you feel your breath hitch and your heart speed up. Your legs wobble, knees knocking slightly.

“I don’t know why you stood me up, or why you were dancing with that girl but I suspect she may not be happy to know you get this close to all the women in your life.”

You try for a joke, but it falls flat and Remus pulls away from you like you’ve burnt him.

He sighs, “I’ve been an idiot.” You nod, not wanting to lie.

“It would’ve been nicer if you just said you didn’t want to go anymore.” You’re trying hard not to let your voice crack, the last thing you want is Remus and you to make up just because you’re crying.

Remus bites his lip, the pretty scar slicing through it pulling tight as you watch his teeth sink into it.

“Dove,” you take a step back from him then. You don’t know what’s going to happen but you need a clearer head than the one you have right now.

“I did want to go.” He sounds sincere but you remember being at the restaurant for nearly an hour all alone.

“Then why didn’t you? I stayed for an hour waiting for you.”

Remus flinches. His chest burns with shame, guilt swirls his stomach. “I don’t have a good reason, other than I was scared it was just a joke. Just another thing we say and don’t do.”

You shake your head, “I texted you telling you I was there. Then I called Sirius and he said you were at a party with him and when I came you were dancing with a girl.” You take a deep breath to dispel the emotion clogging your throat. “This isn’t going to go anywhere if you’re not going to be honest Remus.”

His hand is rough against his face as he leans against his kitchen island.

“I wanted to get over you. I knew if I went on the date I’d just fall for you even more and I didn’t want to fuck up our friendship- I haven’t had the best track record when it comes to being in relationships. I’d have rather been friends than be your boyfriend and potentially lose everything.”

You shrug your shoulders, “I’d have rather you said that and cancelled the date. I’d have told you, you have nothing to be worried about and that we’d work through it together. Now, I don’t know if I can trust you anymore.”

Remus nods. “I’m sorry dove. If it’s worth anything, it didn’t help. I was thinking of you the entire night and when Sirius gave me the cheesecake I almost ran over to your place. He and James stopped me and made me tell them everything. They told me I was being rash and stupid, said I was going to lose you now for sure.”

You sigh, tears pooling in your eyes finally. “I wish you just told me.”

Remus reaches for you, not being able to stomach the way your chin wobbles. “Darling,” he pulls you to his chest again, letting you cry. “I’ve been such a fucking twat.” You laugh through your tears.

“Yeah,” you say quietly, Remus chuckles. “You have been.”

“You’re really making me work for your forgiveness, precious girl. I don’t mind,” he kisses the crown of your head. “Would it be too much if I asked if you still wanted to go out on a date?”

You pull away, teary eyes looking into his. “Why?”

“I’m still head over heels but I need to prove I’m not a complete and utter knobhead.”

Remus is putting the ball in your court, knows it’s the best thing he’s ever done.

Still, his nerves are on fire. His chest constricts like you’ve already rejected him.

“Now?” He nods.

“You’re already all dolled up, don’t see a point in wasting this outfit in my dusty apartment.”

You nibble on your lip, “Maybe in a few days, Remus. I think we need to let this all settle.”

His smile dims a little but he nods, “I understand, dove. Just let me know when you’re ready.”

You leave his apartment and for the next couple of weeks you and Remus take it slow, slow to hang out, slow in speaking to each other one on one.

When you end up going out, he picks you up at home flowers in hand and a small box of your favourite chocolates.

“Let me do it right this time.”

[rainydayathogwarts]

Sirius Scolds || Remus Lupin x Potter!Reader

wc: 700 ish Cute little marauders blurb, Sirius is the SLIGHTLY mature one here... weird right?

Remus can't help but just accept the kisses you press on his soft skin, his own lips chasing yours, trying to catch them in a kiss. He groans when he fails to do so, finally understanding that you were purposefully avoiding his lips. "Darling what's - oh sod off." He groans, his hands gripping your hips, straddling his own as you giggle, his head finding itself in the crook of your neck, where his lips immediately latch.

Your transfiguration textbook hits the ground with a loud 'thud' that almost has James waking up from his nap in the neighbouring bed. You separate from your boyfriend momentarily, looking at the textbook, a clear reminder that you failed to finish your homework without any distractions. The only thing worse than McGonagall finding out you didn't do her work was James finding out about one his best friends dating his sister.

You readjust yourself on Remus's laps, an arm wrapping around his neck to pull yourself impossibly closer to him, pushing his head deeper into the crook of your neck. His hands wander under your skirt and his big hands grope at your ass, his eyes closed in satisfaction. He detaches from your neck with a 'pop' , one of his hands coming up to the nape of your neck and pulling you close so he can finally get a kiss from you. He immediately takes control of the kiss, his tongue invading your mouth as he starts to grow hard underneath you.

You giggle when you feel his dick pressing up against you, teasingly pressing your hips down against his. You pull away from the kiss slightly, pressing kisses from the corner of his lips down to his jaw and neck, where you start building up hickeys. Remus's breath hitches and his nails dig into your hips, causing you to gasp against his skin.

It was so wrong. So wrong of Remus to have made a move on his best friend's sister in the first place, and even worse to be making out with her in a bed right next to where he slept, curtains wide open for him to see as soon as he woke up. It was only thanks to Sirius, who walked into the dormitory with a loud gasp and came running towards you, wrapping his arms around you and instantly pulling you away from your boyfriend's arms that James missed the view. He had just flipped over in his bed to face the three of you, and was beginning to mutter, his eyes fluttering open before he fell back asleep as though nothing had happened.

Sirius stood over you and a sheepish Remus, both red in the face, still processing what had happened, eyes switching back and forth to look at Sirius and your brother, who slept peacefully. "What were you thinking!?" Sirius whisper yelled. "You think you're hiding your relationship well by humping each other like horny teenagers right next to him!?" You bit back from telling him you basically were horny teenagers as he continued "You think he'll be okay with it if that's how he finds out instead of you guys just telling him?" You bit your bottom lip, hands tugging your skirt back down and looked towards Remus for help.

He shrugged, shuffling closer to you on the bed before grabbing your jaw with both hands and pulling you into a sloppy kiss, a message for Sirius to fuck off. Sirius sighed disappointedly, shaking his head, his hands on his hips while he just stared at the both of you. When Remus pulled away from you, he grinned, then turned to raise his eyebrows at his other best friend. "Well James doesn't seem to be awake now does he?"

But a loud whine of annoyance comes from the bed next to you, incoherently mumbling "Shut up Moony, wanna sleep." You both freeze on the bed, and upon seeing Sirius grin widely, shuffle away from each other, knowing James will be wide awake in mere seconds.

The loud slap against James' naked back echoes in the dormitory and the scream that follows is impossibly louder. You only see a flash of Sirius' curly hair and James' red sweatpants before the room is empty again, heavy footsteps scurrying away as James raced after Sirius.

[vinylfoxbooks]

October 11 - Touch | @into-the-jeggyverse | wc: 658

“Reggie’s dating someone.” Are the first words out of Sirius’ mouth upon him entering the flat, slamming the door behind him. 

“Hello my favourite people in the world,” James hums from the kitchen, “I’m home, how have your days been?”

“Hello my Moony,” Remus adds on, pausing to take a sip from his tea, “Lunch with my brother was lovely, how was your lazy day?”

Sirius scoffs at the two of them, “Yeah, yeah, keep on like that.” He sighs, settling on the barstool as a happy medium between the kitchen -- where James is making something that smells absolutely divine, as they tend to do -- and where Remus has closed his book, turning to look at Sirius but making no move to stand, “Reggie’s dating someone and he won’t tell me who it is?”

James makes something akin to a choking sound, “And how do you know this?” 

“Because he was all smiley today at lunch.” Sirius throws his arms up, “He’d check his phone and smile at it and text whoever he was smiling about. And the jumper that he was wearing? Not his jumper.”

“And how do you know that it wasn’t his jumper?” Remus pushes, “You don’t know his entire closet.”

“And even then, it could be one of his friends, I can see Barty, Evan, and him stealing each other’s clothes.” James adds, pulling a pan of bread out of the oven and setting it next to a cooling rack. 

“Yeah, but it was colourful and he doesn’t wear colourful clothes. Not even Barty or Evan do. And how can you explain how smiley he was?”

Remus hums, “So say that he is dating someone, why are you throwing such a fit about it?”

“I’m not throwing a fit about it,” Sirius huffs, crossing his arms as if to prove his boyfriend’s point, “I’m just… first of all, why wouldn’t he tell me, his big brother that he has lunch with every weekend, that he was seeing someone? Or even just talking to someone?”

“You don’t dictate his life, he doesn’t need to tell you.”

“You’re an only child, you have no room to speak. Anyways, but I’m also just… confused. I mean, Regulus hates touch and he gets annoyed with people really easily, especially clingy people, and I figure that this person is clingy when they’re texting him that often, and he doesn’t seem like a particularly romantic type.”

“Merlin, James,” Regulus laughs, pushing James away from him, “You’re rather clingy.”

James laughs, “You’re acting like you haven’t just cuddled up against me all day.” 

“I have no clue what you’re talking about.”

“That’s because you don’t listen to me ever.” James smiles, poking their boyfriend’s shoulder, “What was it you said the other day? Most of what comes out of my mouth is just nonsense prattle.”

“Oh but that doesn’t mean I don’t listen to it, I just don’t retain most of what you say.” Regulus smiles, curling into their shoulder when they outstretch their arm for him to go under, leaning his entire body weight against them. 

James smiles,  “You love me so much.”

“Unfortunately.” He sighs, though his words don’t have much punch to them when he leans up to kiss the taller.

James hums, pretending to be busy with their mixing the dough that they’re working on -- the same dough that has been mixed properly since Sirius sat down -- as a way to get out of talking for fear that they’re going caught in their lie. Oh if only Sirius knew just how much Regulus loves when James touches him, even something as light as resting their pinky on his own or brushing their hand through his hair to sort out the curls. And how he loves just how talkative James can be when he’s too tired to try talking and relies on James to fill the silence.If they’re being honest, they’re shocked that it took Sirius this long to realise that Regulus was going out with someone. The next question is how long it’ll take before he learns who it is that he’s seeing.

[unconventional-lawnchair]

Just Kiss Her

James Potter x BSF!Reader

Summary: You find a few unsent letters with your name on them- literally.

WC: 2.1k

CW: use of {Y/N} - typo and nonsense it's 4am and I can't sleep.

The Gryffindor boys' dormitory was unusually lively for a day when James was absent. You sat cross-legged on James’s bed, surrounded by the mess that only four teenage boys could call normal. The faint scent of James’s shampoo lingered on his pillow behind you, a small comfort as the chatter of the room swirled around you.

Sirius groaned dramatically from his own bed, his leg propped up on a stack of pillows. He had injured it during their last Quidditch practice and was now milking the situation for all it was worth.

“Darling,” Sirius called, drawing out the word as he tilted his head toward you. “I demand attention. Do you know how utterly dull it is, lying here with nothing but Moony’s dull bookishness and Wormtail’s horrible color sense for company?”

“I’m literally right here, Pads,” Remus replied flatly, not looking up from his book.

“And you love me,” Sirius shot back without skipping a beat, grinning lazily.

You rolled your eyes and turned your attention back to Peter, who stood in front of the mirror with a tie hanging awkwardly around his neck. “I think the green one is better,” you offered. “It brings out your eyes.”

Peter frowned, his hands fumbling with the knot. “But is green too Slytheriny?”

“Not unless you start hissing and cursing muggleborns,” you replied with a teasing smile. “Just pair it with a gray jumper. Neutralize it.”

Peter nodded, muttering something about giving it a try before swapping it for a blue tie. Meanwhile, Sirius groaned again, this time louder.

“I’m dying, and none of you care,” he complained, flopping back against his pillows like a tragic figure in a poorly acted play.

“You’re not dying,” you said, leaning back on your hands. “You’ve got a bruised leg.”

“Bruised? Bruised?” Sirius gasped as if you’d mortally wounded him. “That’s how they minimize war injuries, you know. Next you’ll say I’m malingering.”

“Which you are," Remus said, still not looking up from his book.

Sirius turned to you, ignoring Remus entirely. “Come on, love. Entertain me. Read me a story or sing me a song or- oh! Recite poetry! You’re good at that.”

“I’m not reciting poetry for you, Sirius.”

“Why not?” Sirius pouted. “You do it for James.”

“That’s because James actually asks nicely,” you quipped, smirking.

At that, Sirius clutched his chest as if you’d stabbed him, his grin betraying his dramatics. “Et tu, Brute? I thought you loved me.”

“Loved, past tense,” you teased. “You’re officially too high maintenance.”

“You wound me,” Sirius said, throwing an arm over his face. “Moony, tell her she’s being cruel.”

“Not getting involved,” Remus said quickly, still reading but now smiling faintly.

Sirius turned his face toward you again, his pout morphing into a cheeky grin. “Fine, if you won’t entertain me, at least come sit over here so I can lean on you while you’re ignoring me.”

You rolled your eyes but stood anyway, walking over to Sirius’s bed. “You’re unbearable.”

“I prefer entertaining,” he replied smugly as you perched beside him, letting him lean his head on your shoulder.

The room was quiet for a moment, save for the sound of Remus flipping another page in his book and Peter muttering to himself as he fiddled with another tie. Sirius, still leaning on your shoulder, let out a long, exaggerated sigh, clearly waiting for you to indulge him.

“Alright,” you finally relented. “I’ll read something to you. Happy now?”

Sirius grinned triumphantly. “Ecstatic. Now, find something good. None of that boring rubbish you usually bring in here.”

Rolling your eyes, you stood and glanced around the room. “Fine, but I’m not wasting my time reading some textbook or Quidditch manual. Let’s see if James has something decent for once.”

Sirius perked up, watching you make your way over to James’s trunk. “Careful, darling, you’re stepping into dangerous territory. Prongs’s secrets and all that.”

“Oh, he won’t mind,” you said, waving a hand dismissively. “Besides, if he didn’t want me snooping, he’d have locked it.”

Remus glanced up from his book. “I’m not sure that logic holds up, actually.”

You knelt beside the trunk, lifting the lid to find the usual James Potter mess: a tangled heap of robes, a few textbooks with worn edges, and a Gryffindor scarf stuffed haphazardly into the corner. But what caught your eye was a small, battered box tucked near the bottom, half-hidden beneath a crumpled cloak.

“What’s this?” you murmured, pulling it out and turning it over in your hands.

Sirius’s eyes gleamed with interest. “Oh, now that looks promising. Open it.”

Remus let out a quiet sigh. “I wouldn’t- ”

“Of course you would,” Sirius interrupted. “It’s Prongs. What’s his is practically hers anyway.”

Ignoring their back-and-forth, you pried open the lid. Inside was a disorganized stack of parchment, some neatly folded, others crumpled and torn. Some were even singed at the edges, as if they'd narrowly escaped being thrown into the fire. Every single one had your name scrawled across the top in James’s messy handwriting.

Your heart skipped a beat.

“What is it?” Peter asked, peeking over your shoulder.

“Letters,” you said softly. “They’re… they’re addressed to me.”

Sirius’s grin grew impossibly wider. “Oh, now this is good."

Remus closed his book, his brow furrowed. “Are you really going to read those? They’re personal.”

“They’re addressed to me," you replied, a mixture of curiosity and nerves stirring in your chest.

“You’re doing him a favor,” Sirius said breezily. “If he didn’t want you to read them, he’d have gotten rid of them properly.”

You hesitated for a moment before unfolding the first letter. The parchment was slightly wrinkled, and the ink looked rushed, as though James had written it in a moment of unfiltered emotion.

Dear {Y/N},

You probably think I’m an idiot. Honestly, you wouldn’t be wrong. I’ve tried to write this letter five times already, and I keep throwing them in the fire. But this one… I don’t know. Maybe I’ll keep it. Maybe one day I’ll find the courage to actually give it to you.

You laughed today. I can’t even remember what I said to make you laugh, but Merlin, it was the best sound I’ve ever heard. I keep playing it over in my head like an idiot, and it’s driving me mad.

I think I love you. No- scratch that. I *know* I love you. But I can’t tell you. What if you don’t feel the same? What if it ruins everything? Maybe it’s better this way. At least I can still be near you, even if it kills me to pretend.

Your voice caught, and you lowered the letter, your hands trembling slightly.

“Bloody hell,” Sirius said, looking genuinely impressed. “Prongs has it bad.”

Peter nodded mutely, wide-eyed.

“You really shouldn’t be reading those,” Remus muttered, though his tone lacked conviction.

But you couldn’t stop. You reached for another letter, this one more crumpled, as though James had balled it up in frustration before deciding to keep it.

I tried to burn this one too, but I couldn’t. I can’t seem to get rid of the things I write to you, even if they’re pointless. You’ll never read them anyway. But writing them feels like the only way to stop my chest from caving in whenever I see you with someone else. Merlin, I’m pathetic.

I wish I could just tell you. But then what? You’d laugh, or worse, pity me. I couldn’t stand that. So, I’ll keep pretending. Keep being your best friend. Keep loving you quietly.

“Wow,” Peter said softly.

You sat back on your heels, clutching the letters tightly. All this time, James had been carrying these feelings- for you- and he’d never said a word.

“See?” Sirius said, looking smug. “Told you this was worth it.”

Remus shot him a glare. “You’re not helping.”

You looked up, your heart pounding. “Why didn’t he tell me?”

Sirius leaned back against his pillows, crossing his arms behind his head. “Because he’s James bloody Potter. He’d face down a hundred Death Eaters without flinching, but one look at you and he’s a goner.”

The door to the dormitory burst open, and James Potter strolled in, looking thoroughly windswept from Quidditch practice. His broom was slung over his shoulder, and his Gryffindor scarf dangled loosely around his neck.

“Alright, lads, miss me?” he asked cheerfully, dropping his broom beside his bed. He glanced at Peter, who was still fiddling with his tie. “Wormy, mate, what’s that? A tie? You look like you’re about to slither off into the dungeons.”

Peter huffed, pulling at the tie. “It’s green with gray accents. She said it works.”

James’s laugh was loud and carefree, but then his gaze landed on you, sitting on the floor with a stack of letters clutched tightly in your hands. The open box on the floor beside you caught his eye, and his face immediately fell.

“What are you doing?” he asked, his voice suddenly sharp.

You froze for a moment but quickly regained your composure, hugging the letters closer to your chest.

“Reading,” Sirius said from his bed, his tone positively delighted. “Turns out, Prongs, you’re a regular Shakespeare. Real heartfelt stuff.”

James paled as he took a step toward you, his eyes wide with a mix of panic and embarrassment. “Put those down. Now. They’re mine.”

You stood quickly, holding the letters tight to your chest as if they were a treasure. “No, they’re mine. They’ve got my name on them.”

“{Y/N},” James groaned, his face turning a deep shade of red. He lunged for the letters, but you stepped back just in time.

“I don’t think so,” you said, grinning as you unfolded another letter. You held it up dramatically, clearing your throat. “Let’s see what this one says- ”

“Don’t you dare!” James exclaimed, his voice cracking slightly.

“Dear {Y/N},” you read aloud, dodging James as he tried to grab the letters again. “You’re going to kill me one day, and I’ll probably thank you for it. Today, you- ”

James groaned loudly, lunging for you again. “I mean it! Give them back!”

But you were faster, darting around Sirius’s bed and laughing as James scrambled to catch you. “Today, you laughed at my joke in Transfiguration, and I swear I forgot how to breathe- oh, that’s good, James! Real poetic!”

Sirius howled with laughter from his bed, clapping his hands. “Oh, this is gold. Absolute gold.”

Peter, wide-eyed, muttered, “Should we stop them?”

“No,” Sirius said quickly, waving a hand. “This is the most fun I’ve had all day.”

James was completely flustered now, his hair even messier than usual as he chased you around the room. “You’re impossible!” he said, his voice breathless.

“And you’re in love with me,” you teased, waving the letters in the air. Suddenly you paused, as if reality hit you. Your smile grew tenfold as you looked at the letters then to him with wide eyes. “Merlin, you're in love with me!”

That made him freeze for half a second, giving you just enough time to read aloud again. “You’ll never read this, but Merlin, I can’t stop thinking about you- ”

Before you could finish, James lunged and finally managed to catch you, his arms wrapping around you tightly. You squealed in surprise and delight as the two of you toppled backward into the open closet, the letters scattering around you.

James pinned you gently, his face mere inches from yours, his chest rising and falling rapidly. “You’re an absolute menace,” he said, though his tone was more fond than frustrated.

“And you’re a hopeless romantic,” you shot back, grinning up at him.

For a moment, he just stared at you, his hazel eyes filled with something intense and unspoken. Then, before you could say another word, he kissed you- soft and sweet at first, but quickly turning urgent and consuming.

You forgot about the letters entirely as his hands framed your face, his lips moving against yours like he’d been waiting for this moment forever. Your laughter melted into the kiss, your hands clutching the front of his Quidditch jumper as if to anchor yourself.

From outside the closet, Sirius’s voice rang out. “Bloody hell, Prongs, save some for later!”

James pulled back just enough to rest his forehead against yours, his face flushed and his smile wide. “Remind me to hex Sirius later,” he murmured, his breath warm against your lips.

“Deal,” you whispered, leaning up to kiss him again.

Sirius groaned loudly. “Merlin, they’re hopeless. Wormtail, fetch me a bucket; I’m going to be sick.”

Remus sighed, his tone amused. “I think we’ve just lost James for the rest of the day.”