#prongsfoot wednesday

[siriuslystarbucks]

I think that James and Sirius are always a team when they play games. If there’s more than just the 2 of them playing, they’re a team. “It’s us versus them” is their way of thinking.

And it doesn’t matter if the game makes sense to play as a team. Uno? Just watch them manage it. No one is surprised when they pick each other for, say, charades or pictionary, but when there’s only 4 people and they insist on being on a team for monopoly... people start to get aggravated. Sirius and James don’t care. They’re a team and no can stop them.

[padfootastic]

in a turn of events that doesn’t surprise anyone im sure, @impishtubist has caused yet another scene to be stuck in my head until i wrote it down. so, have some sexy, greying sirius; a deeply thirsty, appreciative james who won’t let him dye it; and a very-fed-up-of-his-parents-antics harry for prongsfoot wednesday!

x

Harry entered the house with ‘I’m home!’ on his lips that died an instant death as soon as he registered what he was seeing.

“Er,” he hesitated. Does he really want to—? One more look at the scene in front of him and he decided to bite the bullet. Better to clear the air now than keep stewing on it later.

“Um. Is this a—kink? A fetish? Should I leave and never come back?”

In any other scenario, the way both his parents froze and looked at him with wide eyes would’ve been comical.

If only Dad wasn’t straddling his Papa on the ground, one of his hands holding both of Papa’s above him with disturbing ease.

“Er—“

“It’s not what it looks like, Haz!” Dad yelped, cutting across Papa who’s face and neck were turning a steady pink. “I swear.”

“Then why are you still—like that?” Harry asked, deciding to play it safe and look at the boring grey couch in the living room instead. Nothing scandalous going on there.

He could hear the scrambling of feet, a few thumps, and a mini-yelp, absently wondering about the amount of noise the simple act of getting up could produce.

“Right.” Dad cleared his throat. “So, Harry, would you please tell your Papa that he is, under no circumstances, allowed to dye his hair?”

Harry blinks, turning to his other, exasperated, father in silent question.

“Harry, will you please tell your Dad that this is my hair and I can do with it as I please?”

“Not when you promised yourself to me!” Dad yelps and Harry is hit with an intense wave of regret at instigating this.

“Promised—?”

“Yes! Our wedding, you said, and I quote, ‘I give myself to you, James Potter, mind, body and soul’, don’t tell me you forgot.”

“Of course I didn’t forget,” Papa throws his hands up in the air. “But c’mon James—this is not what I meant when I said body!”

“What, you think I only wanted you for that ars—“

“Dad!” Harry, yelps, mortified. He can feel his cheeks heating in a violent blush. He can feel a similar flush creeping up Papa’s neck. Sadly, his words don’t have the deterring effect he’d intended.

“I mean, it is spectacular, don’t get me wrong, but you’re more than just a beautiful body, Si!”

“James, please, have some mercy for our child, if not me,” Papa says. Thankfully, this seems to register as Dad’s eye widened, part horror and part apology. Harry waves it away tiredly; though he’s no less embarrassed every time it happens, growing up in the Potter household with two extremely affectionate parents has exposed him to much worse. He’s accepted it as his lot in life.

“Er—yeah, anyway,” he coughs, ruffling his hair, “Bottom line—Sirius isn’t allowed to dye his hair.”

“I literally never agreed to that.”

“Too bad because you will,” Dad says, slowly moving towards Papa with a look on his face that Harry is loath to describe as predatory. If only it wasn’t so true.

“Oh?” Papa’s left eyebrow rises extraordinarily high, as it tends to do quite often. He crosses his arms over his chest in challenge. The motion makes his Dad smile.

“Mhm.” The two of them are chest-to-chest by this point, staring into each other’s eyes. Harry could probably conduct a whole rave party right here, right then, and they wouldn’t even notice. That is when he decides it’s high time he should step in—not literally, Merlin, no—before they end up doing something that makes him try to run away (again).

“So I was right—it is a kink,” Harry says dryly, once again regretting starting this entire conversation in the first place. He should’ve just turned back around and gone to the Weasleys instead.

“Harry, no—“

x

Three years later, Harry—who’s almost blissfully forgotten about the entire incident—walks into his parents’ house to an almost identical scene, just with his Papa on top this time. This time, he makes the sensible choice he still regrets not making all those years ago, and walks right back out the door.

Let those two sort it out on their own. Merlin knows his intervention hadn’t helped a bit the last time around.

[gracelesslady23]

The Gift

For as long as he remembers, whenever he is given a moment alone, James will sketch and scribble, quill flying over scraps of parchment or the margins of books. Anything to get the ideas out of his head onto paper, whether they are small or big, useful or merely amusing, game changing or tiny tweaks to existing items.

He never thought much of this ‘gift’ as his parents called it. After all, it wasn’t as if he had any clue how to bring his myriad ideas to fruition. And as he grew, he learns that his gift isn’t even particularly impressive, in fact mostly results in him being marked out as weird or silly by the neighbourhood children. Not like his humour or bravery or skill on broomstick, which never fails to make a good impression on his peers.

So, without much fanfare, James starts to hide away his drawings and notes, although the ideas never do stop coming even once he starts Hogwarts.

Overtime James becomes lax, he neglects to guard his scribbles as closely. Until one day in the middle of second year, he lends Sirius a book over the winter holidays forgetting to erase his scribbles in the margins before he does so.

James tries not to panic when he realises his mistake. Its too late to do anything about it, James is already at his parents’ house and Sirius already in London with his family. But he can’t help but chew his fingernails to the messy stumps with worry about it, regardless.

When Sirius enters their usual compartment for the train ride back to Hogwarts, James nervousness intensifies. Will he even still want to be friends with James after this. All James’s previous friends had found the behaviour odd and childish. The idea of Sirius feeling the same way hurts.

But Sirius greets him, Peter and Remus as usual and their conversation continues as it would on any other day. James begins to relax.

It is not until later that night, just before they turn in, Sirius takes the borrowed book out of his trunk to hand back to James. The nervous churning of James’ stomach returns.

“I hope you don’t mind,” Sirius says, tone unusually cautious, before his releases the book back into James’ hands.

He thinks perhaps Sirius had vanished his doodles and scribbles himself therefore saving James the embarrassment of having Sirius read them. It would make Sirius a better friend then the neighbourhood children James grew up with, which obviously James already knows, but… James doesn’t feel as happy about the prospect of Sirius simply ignoring James’ scribbles as he thought he should.

In the safety of his four poster bed, James opens it, heart thundering in his chest.

Sirius hadn’t erased anything.

But he had added to it.

Lines and lines of elegant script: complex spells in latin, mysterious potions and rare magical herbs, exclamation points and question marks, jokes and asides.  

James loses hours to the pursuit of Sirius’s additions. Laughing at Sirius’s remarks and gasping at his brilliance. It is as if a fire has been lit beneath his own mind, his thoughts running a mile a minute building and building off Sirius’ work.

When James emerges from his bed the next morning, Sirius is waiting for him. After his long night, James is up later than usual and Sirius is already dressed for the day, his hair impeccable, his uniform artfully dishevelled.

“So?” Sirius asks. He stands stiffly at the end of his own bed as if unsure of his welcome in James’s space.

Words fail him, but his muscle memory doesn’t. James strides forward capturing Sirius in one of their not uncommon embraces, only this time James holds him tighter and more warmly than ever.

“You are brilliant.”

Sirius scoffs into his hair.

“I’m not the one who came up with it all. If anyone is brilliant here, it’s you.”

James squeezes him even more tightly to his chest, burying his head into Sirius’ neck. His eyes growing misty behind his glasses.

James might have once thought his gift was useless, but with Sirius’s practicality layered in elegant script over his messy scrawl, James can’t help but think, his parents may be more right than they are wrong when they called it a gift.

[benjamin-ovich]

three times james and sirius make out with each other;

The first time it happens, it’s almost accidental. James and Sirius are buzzed on butterbeer, shoving and pushing at each other as they sprint up the stairs. To settle a heated debate they’d been having in the common room over who’s the faster runner, James had suggested they race to the furthest bathroom in the castle – the one in the Astronomy Tower, out of bounds except for classes. So furious was their discussion that it was agreed that the winner, the first to arrive at the bathroom, would earn the privilege of not having to do his homework for two weeks, because the loser would have to do it for him. 

With such high stakes, neither could imagine losing. And so, flushed with breathless laughter and vibrant delight, they tumble through the doors of the bathroom at each other’s heels. James, caught up in the moment, isn’t watching his step. On the smooth tile, he slips – and reaches out to grab Sirius’ sleeve, as a reflex, while falling. 

Sirius is yanked down with him, and he lands with a hard thump on James’ chest.

“Ouf –”

Bright, bursting pain reverberates through his whole body at the impact. Below him, James is making bizarre noises, caught somewhere between groaning miserably and hysterical laughter. He sounds like a moose in severe distress, and Sirius finds himself cracking up, until his stomach hurts and tears seep from the corners of his eyes. 

And then their feverish, elated faces turn toward each other, and their mouths are too close together. James is looking at him, glossy-eyed, and Sirius is startled by the powerful, dizzying tug in his own gut. The kiss is sudden, rushed. Sirius pulls back to stare at James, but before he can say anything James is kissing him again, and all his thoughts run out of him like rainwater. 

The second time it happens is not long after. James leads the Gryffindor Quidditch team to a glorious victory against Slytherin – the biggest and most intense match of the entire year. He descends onto the pitch, glowing with ecstasy, and is lifted on the shoulders of his teammates back to the changing room. There, he jumps down and steps into Sirius’ waiting arms, laughing vividly. 

Sirius takes a deep breath as he holds James, inhaling the warm, woodsy scent of his skin. “Told you you’d be brilliant.”

James grins, eyes gleaming with euphoric pride. Winning the match has left him feeling bold, invincible. He takes Sirius’ face in his hands, doesn’t stop to think or hesitate, just kisses him.

Sirius can feel James’ chest heaving against his own, heartbeat accelerating as their mouths clash against each other clumsily. It’s effervescent, intoxicating. They don’t hear the rising sound of whistles and cheers from everybody around, they don’t see the mixed faces of surprise and curiosity in the crowd. For several moments, everything else ceases to exist. 

For several sublime moments, they’re completely alone. 

The third time, both of them must’ve seen coming. They feel it, the moment they find themselves alone with each other in the dormitory that night. They realize they’ve stumbled into something new, some previously unexplored territory that now lays open before them, inviting them in. The mutual terror and thrill of it makes the air crackle like electricity between them.

James pushes Sirius up against the wall, kissing him with a kind of wild, hungry urgency. His hands are moving so fast, and they’re everywhere on Sirius’ body at once. Sirius pulls him in, tearing at his shirt, dazedly aware that he wants everything from James, absolutely everything. James is laughing into his mouth, his skin hot and buzzing under Sirius’ fingers. 

Pausing to catch their breaths seems a terrible waste of time; they can’t get enough of each other. James drags his lips under Sirius’ ear, down his neck, along his collarbone, and Sirius’ body shivers almost violently in response. He never wants James to stop, never wants this to end. They sink into the bed, a dazzling, tangled blur of flesh and desire. Drinking one another in with excited wonder and amazement. 

Low, shuddering moans, their bodies incandescent with candlelight. This feels like easiest, most natural thing in the world, as if they’ve done it a thousand times before, across a thousand lifetimes.

Afterwards, they help each other get dressed and curl up together beside the fireplace. James’ fingers slip soundlessly between Sirius’, and there’s a soft, fond smile on his face. They look at each other in the silence and warmth, and something unspoken passes between them. They both realize, at the very same instant, that this is it – the start of something rare, something beautiful. Something they will get to keep for the rest of their lives.

[prongsfootandco]

Dance with Me

Written for Day 2 of @prongsfoot-microfic March prompts

On AO3

_

 “Mr Potter, Mr Black!” McGonagall’s sharp voice echoes around the Great Hall. “Would you stop messing about?”

The two boys cackle as Sirius swoops up his boyfriend from the dip he was in. A pretty waltz is crackling through the speakers, a brand new record player standing proudly on the hat stall, and the hall is filled with students from all the houses, fourth year and up. It’s easy to tell the fourth years apart from the older students, and even easier to tell the muggle-borns and half-bloods from the purebloods. Most of the older Slytherins are gliding around the makeshift dancefloor with ease. There’s an elegance to their steps that’s been bullied into them by overzealous parents - obsessed with tradition and legacy. Sirius knows that all too well. 

The annual dance began in their second year, following an exchange programme with other European wizarding schools. It’s attended by visiting students and any Hogwarts students from fourth year and above. Dumbledore announced the dance as a way to encourage interhouse and interschool mingling before everyone returned to their own countries for the Christmas holidays. The Great Hall is always brilliantly decorated, and one of the older students always manages to spike the punch, ensuring a fantastic night and many hangovers by morning. 

It’s also Sirius’ favourite night of the year. 

Who can forget their anniversary?

Although, he has to admit the mandatory dance lessons leading up to the event are always a blast. Poor Minnie does her best to wrangle the students, but it never works out. The fourth years are too shy, the seventh years are too cocky, and everyone in between doesn’t want to be there. 

Sirius beams as he spins James under his arm and pulls him back into his chest. They sway together to the slow beat of the music, holding each other close until James inevitably gets bored again. He shifts in Sirius’ arms, adjusting their position until he’s the one leading, his hand on the small of Sirius’ back. 

“One, two, three! One, two, three!” he counts loudly, nodding to Minnie as they sweep past her. 

For once their posture is absolutely perfect, a testament to their upbringings more than the classes, but Minnie seems pleased regardless. 

“I want to lead!” Sirius whines after one song ends and another begins, pouting at his boyfriend. 

A well-placed pout is normally all it takes for James to break. Sure enough, he rolls his eyes and without missing a step, moves his hand to Sirius’ shoulder. Sirius winks, leading them through the waltz steps for a couple of turns whilst he gets used to the feel of the music, and then, without warning, he changes the dance. 

James follows him with ease as they force tango choreography into the three/four time the music that’s playing. The movements become sharper, the hold shifts and they march across the hall, cutting straight through the twirling waltzers that are in their way. 

“Boys!” McGonagall yells from across the hall. 

[jmagnabo92]

PM - 99 - June 7 - Legend

@prongsfoot-microfic

Harry is happy that his legendary dads will be his new professors, even if he has to deal their nauseating presence.

AO3

***

There were whispers about the next DADA teacher being a legend, one of the best, but no one knew who it could possibly be – except Harry James Potter that is.  For he knew that the new professor was one of his dads – Sirius Potter, notorious auror and hit wizard.  He was well known for being the best auror of his generation.  Something about how he didn’t like that his son was being targeted in the war and became determined to protect his son.  

The story goes that it had taken years, even after Voldemort had initially disappeared, but by the time that Harry was ready for Hogwarts, his dads had taken down every high-level death eater and solved the Voldemort problem.  They were well-known and famous, and Harry counted himself lucky that he had such amazing dads.  

That is until he found out that they would be living at Hogwarts – with Sirius as DADA professor and James as the COMC professor.  Personally, Harry thought that they might put a damper on his dating life, but when you’ve got legends like them around, you’ll know that you’re learning from the best.

“Alright class, I’m your new Professor, Professor Potter,” Sirius says as he waltzes into his new classroom.  “As you may have noticed at breakfast this morning, there are two Professor Potters.  Try not to get me confused with my gorgeous husband.”

James laughs, jarring their attention to the doorway, where he’s leaning.  “I thought we agreed that no one could ever get us confused?”

“Well, we have the same name, are both gorgeous and both legends – it could be easy to get us confused,” Sirius says, walking over to his husband.

James smiles and pulls him close by his tie to give him a kiss.  Knowing that his dads can sometimes forget that they’re not alone, Harry yells, “Gross, Dad.”

They break apart and give him a look.  

“And that’s our son, about to get detention on the first day of classes,” James teases.

Sirius laughs.  “You can’t give him detention; you’re not even supposed to be here.  Shouldn’t you be preparing for your classes?”

James pouts.  “Is it so wrong to want to give my husband some good luck?”

“Never, but I’ve got a class to teach and you’re interrupting.”

“Fine, I’ll see you later.”

“Good.”

James leaves with a quick kiss and Sirius turns to the class.

“Now, as you know, the story of my time as an auror is legendary… here’s the full scoop…”

[roalinda]

Another microfic which I tagged as prongsfoot wednesday as well ❤ @prongsfoot-microfic

25. Braid

Sirius Black was Pandora's box.

He was wrathful and chaotic. He was pure ardour and inferno. He was a disease, acute and infectious. He was a decayed grim, filled with rotten blood and a vile core. 

He was beautiful and radiant. He had elegance and ego. He was a siren song, alluring and sublime. He was an exotic deity, magnificent and bloodthirsty.

James Potter? 

He was just a fool. A fool who had dared to open the box, letting catastrophe and havoc out. He was a simple man, naive enough to release the double curse of elegance and arrogance. 

…and yet, he was the most skilled weaver.

Golden threads of magic danced between his hands, raw warmth bleeding into shiny red strings for he was the most willing sacrifice on Sirius' altar, ready to yield.

He had catastrophe and calm, glamour and ugliness in each hand, entwining them with deft fingers, creating a masterpiece out of pure havoc with his bare hands.

James Potter was in love, like a lost traveller in a dark night with nothing to hold on to but black void. James Potter was in love with the stars, a dazed stargazer searching for the brightest of them all. 

…and so was Sirius Black.

[in-flvx]

Oh, deer!

Prompt 54: After a night of drinking, Sirius talks to a deer that is DEFINITELY James.

"You could try to turn back, you know?" Sirius whispers. It's still sometimes weird to talk to James in his animal form. He is wild and majestic. Much like his human form, but where James is overwhelmingly inviting, Prongs can be intimidating.

"I think this is how some of the other people see you. Wild and unattainable. Beautiful," Sirius is still talking in a low voice. James is done with smelling Sirius' hair, and starts to nudge at Sirius' shoulder. His antlers bump into Sirius' face.

"Ouch! Careful there, Prongs," Sirius reaches up to gently pet James' elongated jaw. "I'm way more fragile like this than you are."

James huffs, as if laughing at Sirius.

[mycupofrum]

A drabble for Prongsfoot Wednesday. Written for a challenge: shuffle a playlist and write a drabble during whatever song happens to play. One song, one drabble.

**

Jeepster – T. Rex

Sirius looked at James, whose eyes were burning with determination. They had been sharing secrets that night, slowly moving from smaller to bigger ones. Finally, it was Sirius' turn to reveal his biggest secret, something he'd never been able to tell James before. He took a sip of his drink and felt the burning sensation give him some courage.

“I’d like to kiss you. Only you. Nobody else.”  

He was trembling, probably would have felt weak in the knees, had he been standing. James looked at him, puzzled, surprised, and then his expression changed.

“Come here,” he said, pulling Sirius closer. The last thing Sirius saw before James covered his mouth with his own was the desire in his eyes.

[siriuslyasorceress]

As I finished my first ever prongsfoot fic, what better timing to upload than prongsfoot Wednesday!

Pairing: Sirius/James, Regulus/Remus (side)

Slytherin Sirius - rivals to lovers 🎉

[siriuslystarbucks]

A snippet from a WIP about Sirius wearing James’s quidditch jersey (idea was originally @padfootastic‘s iirc)

The thing was, quidditch jerseys were huge. They had to fit on top of the pads and still leave room to move, so Sirius was swimming in it. And Sirius wasn't a small bloke.

For whatever reason, Sirius didn't have a shirt on underneath it, leaving a large v of his chest visible, along with a sizeable chunk of his shoulder. To make matters worse, he'd tied back his hair. He did it because he'd been cleaning, and James knew that, but it was haphazard at best, leaving several strands hanging around his neck in a way that made James's mouth water.

He wasn't wearing a shirt under it. James would be able to feel every hint of warmth coming from his skin if he hugged him.

The jersey said Potter in large, unmistakable letters, along with James's number-- the same one he'd had since his second year of Hogwarts when he joined the Gryffindor team. It was like a brand. A sign proclaiming 'This belongs to James'. He thought of Sirius as being his, always had, but this was more obvious than what existed in his mind.

Right now, Sirius was wrapped up in a little bow that decreed he was James's. He might as well have been pulled directly from a wet dream. James hadn't had this particular fantasy before, but after seeing him like this, it would be inescapable.

[lilyflxwers]

james and sirius platonically fuck

[redroomwidows]

notes: Sirius x James my love. Sirius and James sweaty and shirtless my love. Sirius and the reader are just as in love with James as he is with them in this. not a lot of quidditch content I'm sorry.

warnings: I can't write flirting, second person, I guess like sexual flirting?? I feel like i've written this wrong idk. reader is referred to as ‘gorgeous’

Poly! Prongsfoot × gn!reader

——-&——-

Dating Sirius Black came with many perks, he was all over you, all the time, and had no problems with PDA, or ‘defending your honour’. A perk you didn’t expect though, was bonding over your crush on James Potter.

James was tall, buff and had dark brown curls you wanted to run your hands through. He was also kind and passionate -

“You two are staring again,” Remus mutters from his spot next to you and Sirius. James had appeared after a nap, his hair a mess and his lips pouted and your eyes had not left him.

When you’d first started dating Sirius, Peter had joked how you’d also be dating James, oh how you both wished that was true. Sirius had been best friends with Jamed since first year, and he’d probably been in love since fourth. You could love two people at the same time, you both knew this.

What you didn’t know however, was that James felt the same way. Well, until he became terrible at hiding it.

You’d first noticed after a Summer Quiditch match, when the entire team had celebrated their victory by lying on the floor and begging McGonagall to pour water on them - she’d refused. Thus after the match, as little clothes as possible were on and Sirius had insisted you stay in his dorm while he showered. When he exited, a towel draped over his waist, two pairs of eyes were on him.

“Both of you see something you like?” he’d joked and while you merely laughed, James blushed and looked down “Prongs?”

“Huh?” he looks up, and then down again

“Are you checking my boyfriend out?”

“What! No-”

“You weren’t? I’m offended, I thought I looked hot,”

“No I mean, you do!” an eyebrow is raised and James scrunches up his face “I’m going to shower!” when he leaves the room, you smirk at Sirius.

Around a month later, after lots of flirting (mainly on Sirius’ end), the Gryffinfdors were throwing a party, And a lot of firewhiskey was involved. James ended up on the sofa with you, his head in your lap, looking at your boyfriend dancing .

James sighs, almost lovesick “You alright there Jamie?”

“He’s pretty,” you smirk and run your hands through his hair

“Yeah, he is,”

“You know he’s finally dating someone?” Oh, he’d got to that stage where he didnt know who you were “And they’re great, they’re really great, as great as Padfoot, and I love him, so they must be really great,” you stay very still, letting him continue “But I still feel jealous y’know, and I don’t actually know who of,”

“Maybe its both of them?” You suggest softly and he nods

“Both,”

Once you’d told a sober Sirius, that had opened up a rabbit hole, a huge one, one which included dates, that weren't really dates, and flirting that definitely was flirting. Sirius liked to make James - and you - blush, and laugh, and very flustered.

As the weather gets colder, you find yourselves in the common room more often, and on Wednesday, you enter and find James and Sirius cuddling on the sofa, this wasn’t new, it was something they’d always done, but today you needed a hug, and it made you slightly upset to see them so content.

“Hey Gorgeous,” Sirius greats and you smile, James waves “You alright?” you shake your head

“Need a hug,” you mumble, James goes to get up but you stop him “Want a James hug,” and so you sit next to him, and climb into his arms, sighing comfortably, Sirius’ hand’s find your hair, and James arms are around your waist. You were tired, tired of pretending that you didn’t like James, that you didn’t know he liked you, that he and Sirius haden’t loved eachother for years.

“James,” You start quietly “Do you remember getting incredibly drunk and forgettting who I was?”

“Uh- No?” you sigh and turn around, your elbows either side of him, you look up at Sirius and wink.

“I do,” and then you kiss him.

[prongsfootandco]

Satisfied

Written for Day 4 of @prongsfoot-microfic March Prompts

CW: Smut (sort of, definitely nsfw), omegaverse (Omega!James/Alpha!Sirius)

On AO3 _

When Sirius wakes up, it’s not to the sunlight streaming through the windows of Gryffindor Tower, although it certainly is bright, nor is it to the sound of Remus and Peter bickering as they get ready for breakfast, the pair of them are still snoring behind the scarlet curtains of their four-poster beds. He wakes up to the sound of an omega purring against his chest. James is curled up on top of him, his arm draped possessively across Sirius’ torso, holding him down. There’s a soft smile on his lips, even in sleep, and his dark hair has fallen into his eyes, brushing against his cheeks. 

He’s beautiful. 

Sirius has always known James is beautiful, ever since they met six years ago, but it feels different this morning. 

Today, Sirius knows that pumpkin juice tastes sweeter when it’s on James’ tongue. He knows what it’s like to run his fingers over the strong muscles in James’ forearms, lacing their fingers together as he pushes inside him. He knows the feel of James clenching around his cock, the warmth, the heat, tight around him, squeezing untold pleasure from his body. He’s become intimately acquainted with the quiet gasps that fall from James’ lips, a whisper, a prayer in Sirius’ ears, pleading for more as gasps become moans, tearing through the night. 

How can it possibly feel the same after that?

Sirius’ heart flutters in his chest as he stares down at his sleeping lover. He feels unbelievably lucky, knowing that he’s found his mate already. Some people wait years before committing to another, but Sirius knows that James is it for him - he always has been. 

It came as a shock when James presented as omega, but James took it in his stride, flaunting his sweet scent, flirting outrageously with every alpha. He particularly enjoyed teasing the alphas that were smaller than him. As Gryffindor quidditch captain, James is not a typical meek omega, which is probably why Sirius is so attracted to him. He’s never been one for following stereotypes and expectations. 

Sirius’ jealousy was his undoing in the end. After weeks of watching James’ antics, Sirius all but threw himself at his best friend. 

He should have known that was James’ plan all along. 

And now James is in his arms, in his bed, tucked safely away from the other alphas who want to steal him away. 

Sirius bites back a growl. There’s no need for it. James is here with him, and the omega is having a good dream by the sounds of it. The purrs rumble low in his chest as he sleepily nuzzles against Sirius, scenting him unconsciously. 

“G’morning,” James slurs, the words catching on the satisfied noises thrumming through his body. “T’wasn’t a dream?”

Sirius laughs, brushing James’ hair from his eyes. It knows what James means, the night before was blissful. “Not a dream, love. I promise.”

There’s a hum and James flops back onto Sirius’ chest, hair falling back into place. “Good.”

[jmagnabo92]

Prongsfoot Wednesday!

It’s Prongsfoot Wednesday and I totally forgot again.

So - here’s some thoughts on Prongsfoot.  I love the idea that James and Sirius are just like the *best* parents.  James wants a whole quidditch team of kids, and in order to get that - he decides to be a stay-at-home dad - and he thrives at it.

Sirius loves coming home and seeing the delighted James cooking up a storm for the kids and his husband as the kids play or do homework in the sitting room, and he loves being regaled with the stories of the day - there’s always something exciting to happen (they are the Potters after all).  

And he loves helping James tuck in their kids at the end of the way and then worshiping James for being such an amazing dad (of course, James counters by saying Sirius is the best dad - who helps with homework, reads them stories, and brings them ‘just because’ little treats).  Ultimately, they decide they’re even and celebrate alone together in their bedroom.  

[roalinda]

A small piece for #prongsfoot wednesday. Some of my HCs here are: 1. James is very insecure about his eyesight and glasses. Ironically he has the most beautiful eyes. ( this HC is mostly because I am tired of how much focus is on Lily's eyes) 2. Sirius calling him by pet names calms him when in doubt.

🌷Honey and hazel 🌷

James Potter had beautiful eyes. 

They were almond-shaped and beguiling, deep hazel shining with amber hues, surrounded by long lashes. There was the strangest tinge of gold in his eyes at dusk in the quidditch pitch, the sparkle of excitement reflecting in them like the most shiny mirror. His eyes held his soul.

His eyes were the finest yet his sight was as bad as a blind man walking through a misty night without his glasses and he hated it wholeheartedly. God had blessed him with nice eyes which lacked enough sight. The irony.

It made him feel insecure and unconfident despite the fact that he tried to appear otherwise. He tried to hide it but naturally, it was Sirius who found out because who else? There were no secrets between them, something that they both found wonderful and frustrating at times.

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"Babe, are you ok?" Sirius asked a frustrated James who had fallen face flat on the ground in one of the deserted corridors, courtesy of a cheap prank of Slytherins. They had charmed his optics into normal glasses it seemed and Sirius was already planning revenge, his Black blood boiling.

"Mhmm..." James murmured distractedly, letting Sirius to manoeuvre him into a sitting position with deft yet careful hands.

"I thought your Head Boy duties had kept you from joining us in the common room...but those Slytherins...this was the dirtiest trick they had come up with since Salazar's time, I swear." Sirius grunted, not much different from padfoot when he was provoked.

He softly examined James' face and pursed his lips. "A bruise is forming on your left cheek. No matter, we have a perfect ointment in the dorm. I have sneaked out some from the infirmary for the next moon."

He charmed James' glasses back to the usual and handed them to him, ruffling his already messy hair. "Stop pouting. They should be alright now."

James' usual response would have been something between I've expected nothing less from you or that's my Mr.padfoot or something equally adorable to coo his boyfriend but not this time. He cut Sirius off with a frown, nipping at his lower lip. "What is it like?" He asked.

Sirius blinked at him owlishly. "What is what like?" The bruise? I don't think it will remain..."

James cut him off again. "No, what is it like to have a perfect vision?" He asked, his voice barely audible.

Sirius couldn't help but to be taken aback. James' voice was timorous. It was not every day that one could see a doubtful James Potter and it hurt Sirius greatly.

"I...I know it's ridiculous to be concerned about something as insignificant as wearing glasses...but... Merlin's sake I don't know..." James babbled, biting his nails. It was a childhood habit that always came back full force whenever he was nervous.

Sirius' smile was soft. "Oh, my foolish little love..." He murmured fondly and sat on the floor beside James, pulling him into a cuddle against the wall. It was nothing strange for them to happen in the corridors, everyone in Hogwarts knew how touchy feely they were, even in public.

"You know what's like to have a perfect vision, love?" Sirius said as he removed James' glasses gingerly, letting the hazel eyes shine in the half-dark corridor.

"To have a perfect vision is to be able to see your pretty eyes up close, naked and raw." He said and put a tender kiss on top of James' head.

"To have a perfect vision is to be able to see how your eyelashes flutter against your cheeks when you're half-asleep." He grabbed James' hand softly to stop him from biting his nails, kissing his palm tenderly.

"To have a perfect vision is you in my arms with those sweet doe eyes of yours solely focused on me."

James' cheeks were dusted pink. He could be adorably coy at times and Sirius always found it endearing.

"Don't be so mushy." He whispered as if he was not the one with a burning face and wet eyes.

"Only for you deer, only for you." Replied Sirius before kissing his boyfriend's cheek.

James smiled like the sun, bright and mischievous and Sirius' heart skipped a beat. "Now, let us plan something exclusive for those Slytherins. I'm already itching for it."