#James alley x reader

[bellewintersroe]

Hi i wanted to Ask if you could do a morning after with the BoB guys,like after the first time that they and the nurse reader have had sex and if you could include moore,grant and shifty that would be great,either way thanks xx

thank you for your request!! I absolutely love writing these headcannons omfg <3 <;3 <3 there will be mentions of sex but I won’t go into detail so there’s nothing graphic in this ! Mainly just band of brothers fluff and a bit of flirting too. Let me know if you guys want part 2 with any other guys, or if you have any other requests for the nurse reader! It’s my fav to write about xxx

Easy boys the morning after…

Babe Heffron:

I fucking love this cutie.

you’d probably wake up still wrapped up in his arms, your chest are both bare and the warmth of his skin keeping you close is so cosy.

babe would I think loves his sleep, so he wouldn’t wake up until he felt you stirring.

probably would smile immediately and pull you in for a gentle kiss and a cuddle. Ugh he’s so soft and cuddly in a morning.

“you ok?” He’d ask, running his hands over the bare of your back.

genuinely cares for you so much, and he’s superrrrrr happy you guys slept together, inside he’s proud of himself which occasionally shows with the occasional smirk he gives you.

Wouldn’t mention the night before to you, but the thought of it probably makes him wanna do it all over again, grabs your boobs and probably uses them as stress relief/ something to squeeze and fidget with lmfaooo.

still in awe that ur actually naked in bed with him woah.

Alton More:

Probably would happen during Eindhoven?

like the night they spend there, he’s grab your hand and you’d both run off to some barn seeing as fraternising is banned in the army.

anyway, you’d spend the night together and I don’t think Alton can cuddle when he’s sleeping. When he wakes up however, and sees you laid next to him, your hair sprawled across your bare back, a smile grows on his face immediately.

he’d roll over and pull the blanket further up over your back, pressing a kiss to your skin to give you the most gently wake up.

pulls you into his chest for a cuddle even if you’re asleep, he just wants to have you close again.

sooooo up for round 2 omg, he’d be smirking and flirting away, but you can still see the blush glowing on his cheeks.

he’d really be glowing the morning after, now he’s had you he can’t get enough of you.

hands would roam fr. I think they’d continue to forever after this, he just loves touching you omg.

Shifty Powers:

Idk why I used this gif lollllllll.

but I think your first time together would be somewhere in Austria? Maybe after the war has ended and things aren’t as strict. Training for redeployment into the Pacific hasn’t started and Shifty has yet to win the ticket to go home.

it’s quite peaceful, the morning after definitely is, I think he’s an early bird so would probably wake up first to go to the toilet and brush his teeth.

when he see’s you half naked resting gently he swears to god he’s seen an Angel. The thoughts from the night before would swirl through his mind and Shifty is smirking to himself, but comes to sit back down in bed, and placed a hand on your back.

when you wake up, he’s asking if you want a drink or anything, but literally he can’t do enough for you. All you’d want is a cuddle and Shifty would be more than happy to comply.

he’d play with your hair, as gentle as he was the night before, pressing kisses to your temple.

tries not to stare too much at your half naked body but low key he’s wandered about it for a little while longer than he’d liked to have admitted.

accidentally gets a boner idk?

Chuck Grant:

He’s a big cutie but I think he has the potential to be cheeky, especially in the early days.

let me set the scene, it’s England, the morning after you two have first slept together in secret.

I think there would’ve been drinks involved but the two of you had enough of the tension and snuck off to somewhere like the back of a broken down truck, or inside somebody’s treehouse. It would be random.

it’s kinda nippy that morning so Chuck would pull you into his chest, rubbing his hands up and down your arm.

both a little hungover so I can imagine you both being delirious and everything is funny for absolutely no reason.

He’s probably be so amused that he finally made a move on you, like without alcohol he’s kinda shy, but it had been a longgggg time coming so Chuck feels a relief like no other.

now he’s had you once he wants you again, so you’d probably have sex again the morning after, but I think he’d be super gentle with you and it would just be super fun.

Ron Speirs:

The morning after you’re probably like ‘omfg did I really just have sex with my commanding officer? Fuck, fuck!’ It might’ve been on such a whim and long story short, you’re still somehow half in your uniform from last night.

I think Ron would be super chilled when he’s not working, so although you’d both probably face the consequences later, for now he’s smirking, probably chuckling a little as he wraps an arm around you.

“Oops.” He’d huskily say, but he has no intentions of actually meaning that. He’s super proud, and he fucking adores you, so shares lots of smirks with you the morning after.

Lewis Nixon:

Oooooof, again, like Chuck it would happen after a long night of drinking- probably in the Eagle’s nest when you’re all celebrating.

The only difference is, the two of you have been friends the whole many years of knowing each other and now omfg it happens and it’s so fun but like- what?!

I think you’d probably wake up first with Lewis’s arm wrapped over your body and for a second you jump- then he jumps- then you both realise you’re naked and omfg it’s kinda embarrassing but hilarious.

“I don’t even wanna know…” Lewis cut himself off when he’s eyes accidentally flashed down to your chest. “Don’t look at me!” “don’t look at me either!” “I’ve already seen you!” “yeah well I’ve already seen you too!”

omfg I could expand on this so much, whether it’s a one night stand or turns into something more, I’ll leave it to your interpretations.

James ‘Moe’ Alley:

Aghhhh he’s so sweet.

I think it happens after you two reunite when he’s back from the hospital when he’s injured. You hadn’t seen each other for a couple months and he wants to show you his love in more way than one.

he’d wake up with the biggest smile on his face, he’d be so soft, kissing over your cheeks and nuzzling his face against yours omfg. He missed you so much, and now he truly feels like he’s made up for lost time.

draws on your back without you even asking.

His eyes would be so hazy, his eyelids would be heavy due to it being early morning and he’d have the huskiest voice- omg he’d be so sexy.

he’d be all comfy and the two of you would probably fall back asleep, wrapped up all warm for a change, and his hand would rest on your bum, Moe would feel so accomplished in life hahahahahha.

a little self conscious of his scars as they’re fairly visible but can’t stop smiling and blushing when you’d give him the smallest bit of reassurance about them.

after all, scars on a man look so rugged and give character, am I right?

Floyd Talbert:

Controversial, but I think it happens the night when Chuck is shot.

you both need comfort and lean on each other for support, and one thing leads to another and your close friendship blossoms into a secret love story kinda thing. But anyway I’m getting carried away.

Floyd would be soooo grateful that you’re still there when he wakes up, he’s missed company all throughout the war and now he finds an empty bed a lonely place, especially when it’s dark.

Usually he can’t get back to sleep, but when you let out a soft whine and cuddle further up to him he just melts.

the two of you would hold each other so close, still haunted by the pain of yesterdays events.

he’d be asking if you’re alright, and I think he’d want to bathe in the comfort you provide him for as long as possible before the two of you are rushing off to make sure Chuck is ok.

[ellecdc]

hello loveeee 🩷

can i request cbbh universe jily take harry to diagon alley and shop for school supplies before he goes off to hogwarts for the first time 🥹 i cant stop thinking of their reactions when harry gets matched with a wand (+ jily getting emo remembering their first time at ollivanders too 🥲) and james hyping his boy up as they get him his broom 🥹

this is totally not me tryna heal from canon trauma ha ha…

I fucking loved this - thank you for requesting! May we all heal from the trauma that was the canon HP universe.

CBBH James Potter x Lily Evans Potter // Sirius black x Vixen

The boys were practically vibrating with excitement as the group of six made their way to Diagon Alley. And by boys, Lily meant Draco, Harry, Sirius, and James.

“Okay, so we’ve got to go to Ollivander’s for your wands, Flourish and Blott’s for your books, Madame Malkin’s for your robes, and the Apothecary for potions ingredients. We’ll also stop to get you your own cauldrons...” Lily read from her list methodically.

“And we’ll go to the Pet Emporium and then we’ll get you brooms!” James cheered like a kid at Christmas. Lily wanted to chide him, but she was (nearly) just as excited as her husband and son.

“Okay,” Y/N said as she patiently patted her husband’s shoulder, urging him away from his best friend (and thus, a source of trouble). “why don’t you go with your mum and dad Harry, and Sirius and I will take Draco.”

“Wait.” Sirius barked dramatically. “Can we do the fun parts together?” 

“It’s all fun, Pad’s.” She chided.

Sirius grumbled but continued. “I mean the brooms and the pets. I bought my godson’s first broom – I’d like to buy him his first school broom too.” He stated with pride.

“And I’ve always wanted to carry on the tradition with my godson!” James said excitedly.

Draco laughed. “Aren’t mum and dad technically my godparents already?”

This earned him a gentle pat up the back of the head from Sirius. “Don’t talk back to your godfather.”

“Yes sir.” Draco said good humouredly and shared a fond eyeroll with Harry. 

“Okay. Why don’t we complete our checklists and then meet at Florean’s for ice cream before we do the fun stuff.” Lily relented.

Sirius and James cheered while Draco and Harry shared a high-five. 

“Onwards!” James declared. 

It was very important to Lily to get this experience with Harry, as well as for Draco to get this experience with Sirius and Y/N. 

Draco already lost the opportunity to experience this with his birth parents; he deserved this chance to make happy memories with his parents like Lily and James did at his age.

And she couldn’t help but marvel at the fact that had the war gone differently, she may have never gotten the chance to do this with her son. 

Remus and Regulus agreed to spend the day with Jasmine (Potter), Aurora (Black), Posie (Potter), Lyra (Black), and Leo & Stella (Black) at home for both sets of parents while they were off with the boys. Regulus grumbled and complained but also showed up to the playroom with an astronomical amount of craft supplies, while Remus was out-and-out giddy at the prospect of spending the day with his nieces and youngest nephew. 

Lily and James decided to let Harry choose which order they did their shopping in.

They began by getting him a cauldron and his potions supplies. James moaned and groaned the entire time, muttering about “Slytherin’s this” and “Snivellus that”, but Harry (the good lad he is) just assured his dad he wanted to get the boring bits out of the way first.

Then they went to get his books, which Lily was most excited about though James continued to whine. 

“Next year we should let Uncle Moony bring you to get your books, he’d be in heaven.” James said.

“Okay but only if mum can come too!” Lily called from somewhere else deep within the store. 

After they left the shop, Lily started trying to redistribute the bags so that they weighed roughly an even amount as they got heavy. She suddenly realised her son and husband were laughing at her. 

“What?” She spat in faux irritation.

“It’s like you forget you’re a witch.” James said as he looked at his wife’s confused face with unconditional love. 

James quickly cast a weightless charm on the shopping bags and shrunk them down to fit inside Lily’s tote bag.

“There ya go, love.” He said with a smack of a kiss on her cheek.

She rolled her eyes but couldn’t help the heat moving to her cheeks. Some habits were hard to break, she supposed. 

They then continued to Madame Malkin’s to purchase Harry some uniform robes. They bumped into Sirius, Y/N, and Draco whilst they were there, and James and Sirius spent the entire time pretending to be strangers to one another exchanging pleasantries.

“Ah, nice to meet you, good sir. First time?” Sirius asked in a deep register.

“Yes, yes. This is my first born, Harold Jameson Potter the Seventh. And you?” James responded in like.

“Naw, this ain’t ma first rodeo.” Sirius said, transitioning to a (terrible) Southern American accent. 

“Yippee ki-yay.” James returned.

The boys were giggling from their platforms as they were being fitted, causing Mrs. Malkin to shush them as Harry received a stray pin to the shoulder. 

Finally, the part everyone had been most excited about, was Ollivander’s. Lily couldn’t help but remember her poor muggle parent’s – dragging a petulant Petunia behind them – trying to be supportive of Lily even though they had no idea what anything meant.

When a witch or wizard get their wand – the hope is that the wand will remain with them throughout their life. The wand chooses it’s wix, and throughout the user’s life, they learn from the wand and the wand learns from them. 

A wand is nearly synonymous with a marriage: perhaps more. 

Lily chose James and James chose Lily – but both could function without the other. If they fell out of love tomorrow, they’d both find ways to move on.

But Lily’s relationship with her wand is her longest relationship of her entire life, and without it – she would feel naked. The wand provides her with protection, strength, knowledge, and power. Without it, she’s just a girl.

And today, she gets to watch her son as he finds the wand that will provide him protection, strength, knowledge, and power throughout his whole life. She felt her sinuses sting as the bell rung above the door.

“You okay, love?” James whispered into her ear as Harry eyed the rows and rows of boxes lining every wall.

Lily didn’t trust herself to speak, so she simply nodded and offered him a watery smile.

“Oh, my flower.” James said as he rubbed his wife’s back, but Lily didn’t miss the wetness of his own voice. She knew he was probably thinking about coming here with Effie and Monty at Harry’s age (and his near doppelgänger) to choose his own wand. His parents would have understood the significance of finding his first wand - how momentous this moment would be – just as Lily and James did now. 

“My, my, do we have another firs- oh!” Mr. Ollivander started as he poked his head out from the back room, interrupted by the scene in front him.

“Why...it can’t be...but, wow!” He cheered as he came around the register. 

“Introduce yourself, Haz.” Lily encouraged her son.

“I’m Harry P-”

“Potter, yes." Ollivander completed for Harry. "Of James Fleamont Potter who was matched with an 11-inch mahogany wand with a dragon heartstring around this time about twenty years ago. And Fleamont Hari Potter some thirty-eight years before that. My...”

“I never forget a customer, you see.” He clarified when Harry turned to his parents somewhat concernedly at this stranger’s familiarity.

“It’s nice to see you again, Mr. Ollivander.” Lily said with a smile.

“Ah, and you, Miss Evan’s, or, Mrs. Potter, I suppose.” 

Without further ado, Ollivander started pulling boxes from the stacks, trying Harry on for size.

The first one nearly singed everyone’s eyebrows off and was quickly returned to its box.

“Temperamental, that was is. Hm,” Ollivander said mostly to himself as he carried on.

The second set off the sprinkler system above them and got sent back to its home as well.

Finally, a wand was handed to Harry (the wand) from the stack. An 11-inch holly wand with a phoenix feather core. Harry picked it up, and (quite beautiful, in Lily’s opinion) fireworks sprouted from its tip.

“An odd combination of wood and core – I’ve not seen many like it myself.” Ollivander admitted.

“Well, Haz is a bit of an odd guy.” James said as he ruffled his son’s hair.

“Dad!” Harry screeched as the two began to roughhouse.

“Okay, oi, this store is not big enough. Boys!” Lily reprimanded.

The trio finished up their shopping and headed towards Florean Fortescue’s Ice Cream parlour. Sirius, Y/N, and Draco were already seated, which Sirius was very smug about.

“Must be hard being second best at everything, Potter.” He called out to James. This resulted in James leaping over the barrier of the parlour’s patio seating area and landing on Sirius. Y/N had her face in her hands and Draco was (unsuccessfully) trying to smother his laughter. 

“Oh, for Merlin’s sake.” Lily grumbled as she shot an auguamenti at the two boys men.

The two men shot apart like cats in an alleyway after someone threw something at them for howling in the middle of the night. 

“Go get your wives and sons ice cream.” Lily barked at them.

“Yes ma’am.” Sirius and James responded, each bringing their first two finger to their forehead and offering a salute before walking marching inside. 

After their quick treat, where Draco and Harry compared their wands and showed each other all that they had bought, they carried on to the ‘fun stuff’. 

“Have you thought at all about what kind of pet you’d like, Draco?” Y/N asked the boy.

Draco appeared to consider something before a blush permeated his cheekbones. 

“I think...I think I’d like a cat; like my mum had.” He admitted quietly.

Sirius offered a sad but delighted sigh at his son and Y/N pulled him into an embrace.

Narcissa Malfoy attended her first year with the company of a regal white long-haired half kneazle. That cat (monstrosity, if you asked Sirius) was her most prized possession for years to come after that. 

“That sounds like a beautiful choice, my love.” Y/N offered as they made their way to Magical Menagerie. 

There was a pure white long-haired kneazle cross available that Sirius was positive Draco would beeline for. 

However, surprising everyone, Draco found a small tortoiseshell kitten with a missing eye. “This one!” He proclaimed.

And so, it was.

He named her Larissa – after one of Neptune’s moons, and in the same vein as his mum’s name Narcissa.

Harry insisted on getting an owl so he could “race them with his new broom.” He landed on a beautiful snowy owl with piercing yellow eyes. Lily found her a little off-putting; “no owl should look like they know so much” she had said.

To name her, Harry decided to flip open to a random page of one of his textbooks. Harry named her Hedwig, which he found on page 158 in Bathilda Bagshot’s book “A History of Magic”.

Y/N and Lily found a bench near Broomstix and watched as the four boys walked (skipped) into the store, speaking over top of one another in their excitement. 

“God we’re so lucky.” Y/N said quietly.

Lily felt like her heart was a well that was just overflowing with love.

“We really are.” She agreed. 

@ttulipwritezz

[cryptidcasanova]

Lover Boy

Mob!Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

Summary: It's the Bridgerton carriage scene, but make it mob!Bucky.

Warnings: Angst, light Smut, Language, Possessive Bucky.

3.5k

The poll results are in, and I couldn't help but think this might be a good way to remedy both sides.

You were mortified.

One hand fisted against quivering lips, and the other gripped at your clutch. As if anything else could go wrong tonight. Shaky steps guided you down the carpeted stairs.

There was another gala, another meeting of the power players in town. And it was another night wasted at the hands of James Barnes.

You hated how much you cared for him. You still cared for him even after all the stunts he pulled to pull you away from the Maximoff heir. Always had.

Ever since you were kids, you remembered having that love-sick look in your eyes. You grew up with inner-circle families and were friends with Rebecca, Sarah, and their brothers. And Bucky? Well, shit, he was always there with his dark hair and curious eyes. It was hard not to fall for him.

Even as you grew up, numbing yourself to the reality of the business and the choices that came with it, you couldn't ignore him forever. You knew that Bucky was raised to be powerful, honorable, and frightening. You knew the stories – of all the beautiful women who couldn't tie him down longer than a night or two. You knew how he flaunted some new girl at every event. It was hard not to overhear them whispering among the men.

'What about her?' and the laugh on his hips saying, 'She's just a family friend. Don't worry about her; I'd never be with her like that.'

You knew he would break your heart, and still. You loved him.

Again, mortified.

He was your first kiss on some lonely night when you couldn't help but ask him. But that had been ages ago. He was grown now, the head of the family and the king of his empire.

But there was something different about tonight, something predestined that started long before you stepped outside your door. It started out as Sam's idea weeks before, in the same bar where you ended up every weekend.

He wanted to try and get you to mingle among the local 'rabble-rousers' as if he pretended not to be one of them. Your laugh at his suggestion pulled Steve and Bucky's attention from across the bar.

"You want me to do what, exactly?" You teased. "Throw myself in the way of wealthy investors and scout out the competition? That's much more up Nat's alley; there's a reason why they call her the Black Widow, you know –"

"No, nothing like that," he shook his head, that charming grin on his lips. Once Sam got an idea, it took a lot of work to dissuade him. "Look, there's more to this life than watching shipments and making small talk with the hens in town." He paused, knowing all the time you spent logging backorders and saving face with the mercs' wives. "I want you to be happy. We all do."

You leaned against the bar, pressing your palms against the hardwood.

"So you think it's time for me to settle down?" You challenged with a smirk. "Get married to some silver-spoon jerk upstate?" Sam's smile turned close-lipped as he noticed the other's approach.

"We could help you find a good one." At least he sounded hopeful.

"In this town?" Steve overheard, tapping his beer on the hardtop. "You're gonna need all the help you can get."

Your sneaking suspicion grew as they hounded like vultures. You looked from Sam to Steve with weary eyes. The only one with less enthusiasm was Bucky. Bucky, who usually was primmed with pressed shirts, was tired. His hair fell into his face, his shirt wrinkled, and his tie long discarded at one of the tables.

"You want to help me find a man?"

Bucky looked to his friends with a hooded expression, letting his hand reach out before him. With the click of his tongue, he softly smirked.

"We'll help you find a man. Have we got a deal, doll?"

It was a business handshake, one full of promise. And as soon as you grasped Bucky's hand, one you'd come to regret.

You didn't expect their advice to work so well…or so quickly.  

At the gala, Bucky strolled over with that sly walk and pressed navy suit, conveniently carrying your favorite drink in hand after Pietro ordered you both dirty martinis. You never cared for the drink, but you weren't about to tell him that. But trouble started when Bucky slid between you with that close-lipped smirk.

"They must have made a mistake at the bar," He explained with a shrug. "I remember you liked these. Here, doll." Bucky said, swapping out the drink in your hand before sliding away. No one could fault you for your eyes lingering on him as he walked back to Sam and Steve.

Later in the night, when you were dancing along and finally falling into a rhythm with Pietro, Bucky interrupted again. It was the turn of the tides, the slow pace of the music building, until it felt like one of the underground clubs.

All the weeks spent flirting and learning more about the Maximoff family were crumbling before you. You were a fool to think it would last.

The music built to the familiar strum of old songs you used to listen to, and before you knew it, Sam, Natasha, and half the crew surrounded you on the dancefloor, pulling you away from your date. And it was all orchestrated by Bucky, leading them like a pack of wolves. You knew that look, the suave pull of his hand through slicked-back hair. And then, before you knew it, you were dragged away from the dancefloor.

"Hey," Pietro called over the music, pulling you to the side. "I like you. I do, but this isn't working."

"Wait –" You tried, reaching for his arm. But he was quick to deflect, and embarrassment warmed your cheeks.

"Whatever you're looking for," his eyes moved from Bucky and dropped when you noticed. He looked down with a sad smile. "Whoever you're looking for, I hope you find it."

It felt like a knife twisting in your chest.

"Please don't go."

But it was too late. Your plea was lost as he pushed himself away. Everyone saw it. All your friends' efforts and your attempts to find the one were wasted. Your feet carried you away too fast to notice the somber look Steve gave Bucky.

"You're running out of time, punk."

The city lights passed in a blur as a taxi drove you farther from the gala. The searing ache in your chest left you confused.

For years, you dreamed of Bucky Barnes, hope a dangerous feeling companion of yours. But you knew how he felt. You were nothing more than a friend; he had made that abundantly clear. But you couldn't cut the tether, even while someone else caught your interest. Pietro Maximoff was handsome and kind and loved his sister more than the world. But with Bucky's interruptions, it was no wonder why he didn't want to get involved.

But it still hurt.

A sob was swallowed back, but you couldn't stop the tears from rising. You were pitiful. It was the last time you'd ever ask the guys for help.

But the thought was gone with the sudden screeching of brakes. It made you hold on to the headrest in front of you. Trying to peer around at the commotion, you didn't expect to be cut off by two black SUVs. A moment later, a ringed hand banged on the taxi's hood.

"Get out of the car."

You knew that voice. And as you looked through the windshield, you could see Bucky Barnes peering back.

He was as poised as he was at the party, and the sharp look had you bracing the seat. The bitter spark of rejection caught the light, burning into brutal frustration. You didn't want to talk to him. You didn't want to see him. Not now.

"No."

He tilted his head to the side at the challenge.

"Get out of the fucking car." Bucky gritted. "I need to talk to you."

His voice was teetering dangerously into territory you had only heard about. It was his back rooms, no nonsense voice that snapped you back into the moment. Like hell it would work on you. So it was to be a standoff, one that that you weren't ready to back down from.

Once Bucky realized your position, he took a new approach. You could hear his intentional steps against the pavement as he reached the driver. He didn't say anything but dug into his pants pocket, his fingers flicking through his wallet smoothly.

"Unlock the car," Bucky ordered, pressing cash bills against the window.

The immediate click of the locks didn't help your bellyache, nor did the split second of peace you had before Bucky forced the door open and pulled you out of the cab.

"Are you crazy?" You barked, forcing him to release you as the cab sped off in the other direction.

But you were left in the middle of the road in Barnes territory, the sweep of their dark SUVs cutting off any chance to get out of this conversation.

"What's gotten into you?"

"I didn't want you to leave the party." He explained, his words softer now. "Not like that."

You couldn't believe him. You followed their advice to try and bag a good guy, but to what end?

"What?" You dared to challenge. "I don't know what you want from me. I'm not in the mood, James."

The curl of his name lingered, making your intentions clear. You never called him by his first name. And Bucky didn't like it one bit.

"Let me take you home."

As if you had a choice.

You choked on a frustrated snarl, wanting to hide and cry away your worries and wanting to claw at him like a villain. You hated it. You hated the pressure of his eyes, blue and dark against the night, to get in the car.

So you lifted your head high, took a steeling breath, and walked ahead of him. You were separated from the rest of the world in the backseat of his company car. The divider was a saving grace. You didn't want one of the drivers to see you like this.

But Bucky followed behind so quickly, getting in and closing the door before you could protest for space. You chose to stare out the window instead of looking back at him. The car lurched forward, and you took a moment to find balance.

"You're unhappy."

"No shit."

"Please," He started, turning his shoulders in toward you. Even out of the corner of your eye, you knew he wouldn't let this go. "Please talk to me. Don't close me out. I hated seeing you leave like that. Whatever Maximoff did, I'll fix it."

"You can't fix it!" You finally said, turning to him and gripping his shoulder in frustration. "You say you want me to be happy, to find someone, and then manage to scare off anyone that has the potential to do it." As your voice raised, heat radiated from your cheeks down your neck. His eyes were wide, listening to your grief. "He left because of you. It's not like you have feelings for me. What's the matter with you?"

You couldn't stand to look at him, not when he was so close. His cologne burned your nose, and you desperately needed him to get out of your system.

"Doll," Bucky breathed. He inched his way closer, not letting the anger of your words settle over him. "What if I did have feelings for you?" You would almost call his stare desperate. And then you confirmed it as his shoulders dropped, turning toward you. "It's all that I've wanted to tell you. And I can't see you with him." He admitted.

He moved with purpose all night, not intending to ruin your time with Pietro but to show you that he was the one who needed you. He should have been the one to hold you between dances and order you fine drinks. He should have picked you up so that you would never dare to get in a yellow cab.

But you weren't some wilting flower. You knew the risks of your following words.

"We're friends, Buck."

You held yourself together. You were strong and brave and gripping your heartstrings.

"Yes," He agreed. "But we…"

And for once, he was at a loss of words. The years wasted pining after him would finally be out in the open. You could finally be free of his torment. His eye contact was overwhelming; if he looked away, you would disappear.

"Look, We've been friends for a long time." And with an ounce more of bravery, you sighed. "But I'd like to be more than friends." You admitted. "I want to be so much more than that."

You were waiting for the other shoe to drop. But Bucky leaned closer in earnest, over the seat and bringing his face close. There was no teasing, no torment in his expression.

And with the tip of his chin, you were lost, pulled tight into a kiss and letting it blossom as cold metal snaked around your waist. You dreamed of his touch, and it burned down your throat like honey whiskey.

When you opened your eyes, Bucky had moved. He was no longer in the seat, now chest to chest with you. He was kneeling in the cramped space, the divider shielding you from the driver and the outside world.

"Do you know why Sam offered to help in the first place?" His words were slow as he pulled away, loud enough to hear. "Do you know why Steve jumped on board and corralled us to join? It's because he is tired of me dragging my fucking feet."  

"Bucky-"

But he closed the space for another set of slow kisses, deep and intentional.

"I've been an idiot." He admitted. "The guys know how I feel about you. I think they've always known." Another kiss as you pulled back, gripping the shoulders of his jacket. Expensive fabric under your fingertips, hot breath against yours. You were dizzy.

"And you agreed to help with this idea." You noted.

It wasn't a question, no challenge in your words. He agreed to help find you a man. Bucky took a hefty exhale.

"You know the business. It's not safe –" but you raised your hand with a groan, not buying his excuse.

Your fingers brushed over the curve of his chin, the sharp line of his beard a welcome sensation. God, you only ever dreamed of this. You savored the feel of him, your hand moving up his ear and combing your fingers through his air. Buck's eyes were darker than you've ever seen, his open mouth curving up in awe.

"'s not safe." He whispered. "I'm not gonna put you through that."

It was a weak defense. You knew the coterie of mercs, the warehouses, the shipments. You knew all of it and were aware of the danger. But it wasn't like you could cut ties and leave your life behind. You weren't sure you even wanted to.

"You wanted me to find someone else?" You dared to ask. The whisper died as he shook his head.

"All this deal did was make me jealous." He affirmed. "And tonight," His eyes raked down your frame. He never did finish his thought as lust washed over him. A breath passed between you two. "I never meant for you to hurt over it."

The limited space lets you mimic his actions, noting his heaving chest, blue eyes, and the pout of his kissed lips. How he kneeled down in front of you, crowding your space, made you dizzy. While your mouth curved up into a wanton grin, you couldn't help but chase another kiss.

Each touch melted the last of your anguish. The night was long forgotten as soon as he pressed forward, flattening you against the back of the seat. While you pulled up for air, his other hand moved to cup your chin. And then, with your eyes locked on his, he tilted your chin, eyes staring into the roof of the sedan as you felt lips against your jaw.

Hot, languid kisses burned against your pulse. The scrape of his teeth and burn of his beard drove you wild. And as he pulled back, his hand released your chin, following a mesmerized pattern down your skin.

The palm of his hand cupped your neck, down your shoulder, pulling down the thin strap of your dress. Your soft skin was on display, and Bucky's expression was wonderous. But his hand continued mapping, cupping the curve of your breast. A tactful squeeze left your head falling against the seat, a soft gasp on your lips, and your hand blindly reaching up to cover his. With a sharp breath, you found his eyes again. His pink lips were parted, eyes pleading with you.

You knew Bucky was a man of action, but this was uncharted territory. Your nod and an affectionate squeeze of his hand pulled him from his reverie.

He needed more, craving your skin. And as his hand fell from your chest to a solid grip on your ankle, you craved his exploration.

Shallow breaths were traded for deep, hungry kisses. Years of longing, of yearning for his touch and affection, finally were coming to a head. The brush of his tongue left your mind reeling, and regardless of the heat, a trail of goosebumps followed the path of his hand. Under your dress, he lingered over the smooth skin of your calf, over your knee, up your thigh, and to the meat of your hip. Rough, dexterous fingers carved prints into your skin hot enough to burn.

You refuse to miss a moment, eyes fixed on Bucky's as his palm covers the top of your thigh, the intention sitting heavy in your stomach. A live wire of nerves, you can feel him from the heat of your cheeks buzzing down to your toes.

And then, palming where you needed him most, your mouth dropped open with the softest of moans.

Bucky's eyes are wide, but it doesn't last as he finally lets himself get lost. As his eyes close, you admire the curve of his nose and his soft, dark eyelashes. But Buck is greedy, and as he peels his way under the cloth of your panties, you, too, close your eyes. Fingers are nimble, caressing your dripping seam under the dress.

You're a vision.

Convulsing under his touch, rogue pulls off his fingers drip honey down your thighs. Your breath is heaving, and your chest is dangerously close to falling out of the dress. Bucky finds refuge by rubbing slow, devastating circles against your clit. Every hitch of your breath and moan spur him on until you are staring at him with such reverence he thinks he'll collapse.

There's a magnetism, the long-lasting chemistry drawing you nearer to him. He swallows your moan as he slides a finger inside. You're in a desperate frenzy, pulling him close and arching into his body. He spurs on a need you've never had, demanding his smoldering kiss as you shake in his arms.

He's all you've ever wanted. You're crazy to think it could have ever been anyone else.

And then the car jerked to a stop.

There's a breathless laugh as he pulls away, Bucky's forehead resting on yours. You kept a hand on his cheek, thumb brushing his chin. Maybe, if you just ignored it, the outside world would go away.

That is, until you see a porch light turn on from your periphery. You try not to let embarrassment flood your system as you realize your situation, with one of your closest friends knuckle deep in the back seat.

Bucky doesn't share your distress.

He pressed a kiss to your cheek, finally pulling his head back. Bucky smiled. His fingers lingered longer before pulling away, leaving you empty and wanting.

You must have looked as desperate as him, finally looking down at the brutal strain in his pants. But you had no time to overthink as his fingers carefully plucked at your dress strap. He was putting you back together, smoothing out the burn of his touch as he sat up.

If you begged, you were sure that he'd ravage you right there in the seat. But you tilted your head to look outside. You needed a distraction, anything to regain your good sense.

As you focused on the brownstone, you knew where he took you. You were in front of his house – the Barnes family house. He said he was taking you home.

"This isn't my place."

His smirk reached his eyes, and as he pulled open the door and jumped out, his gaze was fixed on you.

"For fucks sake, doll," Bucky's eyes were soft, still blown out. He held a hand out. "We've known each other our whole lives. I'm crazy about you. Are you gonna come up with me or not?"

And with an ardent stare, as if he hung the stars himself, you reached for his hand.

[pretentious-blonde]

after the storm

pairing: remus x reader

summary: the full moon is looming and remus takes it out on the one person he promised not to.

warnings: smoking, arguments

a/n: this is my first fic ever so please be nice!! if people like it, there might be more <3

The moonlight shone through the thin curtains of your shared flat, the beams from the sky cast pale, silver lines across the dark wooden floor of the apartment. It was a modest space the two of you had saved up for, tucked away behind an alley, just off the main road to quiet the bustling sounds of the city outside. The flat, which was on the smaller side, was home to you both. The original ornate fireplace crackled quietly in the corner, the warm orange glow from the flames it emitted danced across the pale walls. Books that the two of you have collected over the years filled not only the bookcase, but a few had migrated to the shared desk in the corner and coffee table. Their spines old from years of use. The familiar scent of parchment and tea permeated the air, and the smell of herbs drying near the windowsill felt comforting. It all reminded you of him. 

The evening outside was unusually quiet for a night in the city. Cars and passers-by were not as loud as they normally were, instead, there was a silence that felt almost oppressive. Spreading across the shared space. The full moon was due in just a few short days, the weight of that fact hung in the air you both shared. 

Remus sat by the slightly open window, back hunched with a cigarette in hand, staring out at the dark sky above him. The warmth of the fire didn’t quite reach his body, leaving him partially veiled in the shadows surrounding him. His whole posture was tense, his shoulders had turned in on themselves as if he was trying to make himself smaller, as if he could somehow disappear. His brown hair, messy from how many times he had raked his fingers through it, fell into his sunken eyes. 

He has always been on the leaner side, however, the days that lead up to the full moon only helped accentuate his lanky figure. His stress usually makes food seem irrelevant around this time. The faint lines around his mouth and eyes, formed from laughing with you or James or Sirius, were more pronounced. His deep amber eyes looked empty and fatigued, lips dragging once more on the cigarette in his hand, jaw clenching as he exhaled. Holding back words he dare not say. 

You were snuggled into the couch just across the room, your gaze unable to focus on the book in your lap as concern gnawed away inside of you. You were more than familiar with nights like these. The shift in his mood, shutting you out. He became distant as the moon loomed over him, more irritable than usual. The weight of his condition becoming more burdensome, even with you there. Tonight, however, felt different. He felt darker in the way he held himself. His movements were sharper, tighter, you could feel the tension radiating off him much like the fire that was warming your tired body. 

Placing your book down on the coffee table in front of you, standing as you began to approach the boy in the corner, the floor creaked gently as you came closer. He had smoked half a pack just this evening and you wanted nothing more than for him to hold you in his arms. 

“Remus?” You used his full name to get his attention, your voice was filled with a soft tenderness that always seemed to calm him. “Are you alright?”

There was a brief pause as he didn’t respond to you. His eyes were glazed over as he continued to focus on the dark sky outside, his long fingers tapping on the windowsill, a small sign of the restless energy that was threatening to burst through him. When he did finally respond, his voice was low—lower than usual. 

“I’m fine,” he muttered under his breath, though the words felt hollow. He stubbed out his cigarette and formed a fist with his hand, the knuckles turning white as he tried to ground himself. “I’m just tired.”

Your eyes softened as you understood, but you knew better than to leave the conversation there. You could see the cloud surrounding him and couldn’t just sit there and pretend that nothing was wrong. Taking a tentative step further, glancing down at your sock-clad feet, feeling the warmth of the fire on your back as you moved closer. “Rem,” you began gently, “I know the full moon is in a few days, do you want to talk?”

Remus’s gaze finally tore away from beyond the window, his dark eyes now locking on yours. You could fully see the damage the stress had done to him. The shadows under his eyes made him look older, more worn than a boy in their twenties should be. His lips parted as if he wanted to respond to you, but they soon shut as he shook his head from frustration. 

“No,” he said sharply. His eyes flickered with irritation that you knew he wasn’t trying to direct at you. “There’s nothing to talk about.”

The silence that followed was more unbearable than the previous one, his sharp words pressed down on the both of you. Your heart clenched in your chest, but you, being ever stubborn, refused to back down when he looked like this. You knew it was not in his nature to be cruel, the sweet boy that captured your heart all those years ago, but his tone hurt all the same. Ever the martyr, he tended to shut people out, even those who cared for him. He had built walls around himself for protection, rightfully so, but the isolation you felt was becoming too much to bear. 

Taking a deep breath as you nervously clenched your hands at your sides. “Remus, you can’t keep treating yourself this way,” you tell him, keeping your voice firm but caring, but Remus could hear the tremor of hurt beneath your facade. “I know what you’re going through and that you’re hurting, but I’m trying to help. Please, don’t push me away.”

He scoffed and the sound felt cold and bitter, he finally stood up. He towered over you as he shut the window, his tall frame pulling away from yours as he paced over to the living room, running his hand once again through his hair in frustration. “Push you away?” He repeated your question sarcastically. “I should have done that years ago.”

He spun his body around to fully face you, his eyes blazing with so many emotions it was hard to pin one down. It was frightening. He had never frightened you before, not like this. 

“You really don’t get it,” his voice lacking all the usual tenderness it had when talking to you. “Living like this, every month, turning into this—this monster. I can’t—I shouldn’t—have to put you in danger because of me.”

His words stung deep as you try not to flinch backwards. “I’m not scared of you,” you insist, keeping your voice level so as to not match his rising tone. “We have been over this. I know you—the real you—you should know better than anyone that I’m not going anywhere.”

“Have you ever thought that you should be scared?” He snapped back at you, his voice filled with panic and self-loathing. “You think you know what it’s like, and that’s the problem. You think you do but you don’t. You’ve never seen me—what I become—you haven’t seen what I am capable of.”

Your features softened as your frustration turned into sympathy, but you refused to allow him to shut you out more. “I know you’re not a monster,” you say truthfully, voice firm. “You are kind, kinder than anyone I have met before, strong too. This part of you doesn’t change that.”

He barked out a sharp laugh, one filled with no humour as he shook his head back and forth. “Of course, you say that now,” he muttered under his breath. “You wouldn’t be saying that if you saw what I turn into. One day, I will lose control, and you will despise everything you think you know about me.”

The words hit you like a blow to the stomach, you knew he was spiralling and your demeanour faltered slightly. You could feel the raw pain behind his outburst, the fear that had been eating this boy alive for years at this point. You refused to join him in being afraid, not allowing him to shove you aside. 

“Rem,” you said lowly, voice determined. “I know you’re scared. I know you think you are protecting me by lashing out like this, but ultimately, this is my decision. I am here because I love you. Every part of you.”

His expression twisted painfully into one of disbelief. “Love me huh?” He asked. “You don’t even know every part of me. Not really. All you see if the version of me that I let you see. The one who tries to act normal, to convince everyone that everything is fine when really that is the furthest from the truth.

“Do you understand what is it like to live in fear of hurting someone you love? To be terrified of yourself? I know you can just pretend that everything is fine, but—fuck—I can’t” His voice rang out through the room, now still with the implication of his words. 

You stood frozen in place, the weight of his confession hitting you with the intensity of a steam train. You both didn’t speak for a while and you felt your throat tighten, your waterline burned with tears that threatened to spill. The warmth from the fire did nothing to alleviate the coldness you felt from him now, the distance between you felt greater than just a few feet. 

How many times have you held him whilst he struggled with his condition, picking up the pieces it left when it tore at him from the inside? This uncensored anger, brutal honesty, was new. The more you stared at him, the more you saw the scared boy that you fell for back in school. You couldn’t bear it any longer. 

“I…” you began to say, unwilling to raise your voice above a whisper, in fear you would break down in tears. “I can’t be around you right now.”

Remus’ eyes widened slightly at the words that left your mouth, as if that response was unwarranted after his outburst. He wanted nothing more than to take it all back, but something held him back from speaking anything else. 

You shook your head as the ache in your chest continued to grow. You wanted nothing more than to be there for him and expected nothing in return, but the pain of his words was too fresh to do any of that now, too overwhelming. You still loved him, but you couldn’t show it well right now. Not when every fibre of your being was screaming with hurt. 

“I just… I need some time alone,” you turn away swiftly, not allowing him to see the tears fall. 

You quickly retreated to your shared bedroom and softly shut the door behind you. The click of the handle sounded so much heavier than usual, the catalyst that broke the dam. Silent tears slipped down your face as you leaned on the frame for support, Your hand covered your mouth so as to not allow him to hear the effect his words had on you. Trying to catch your breath and calm down.  

In the room just across from you, the soft crackle of the fire was the only sound that remained. Remus stood in the centre of the living room, aching as he looked at the door you had just shut. Locking him out. The realisation began to sink in, slowly, painfully. More painful than any transformation he had felt before. His body was cold, he felt hollow. 

His fingers trembled as he combed them through his hair for the hundredth time that evening, guilt shattering through his frame and completely drowning out the last of his anger. He pushed you too far. Way too far. He didn’t mean anything he said, none of it. The one person who had always stood by him though everything was now hiding from him. The thought of it made his stomach churn. 

He allowed his eyes to wander to the couch where you once sat, the soft cushions piled up to hold you comfortably, something he should have been doing. He glanced over to the bedroom. There was no way you would want to see him after tonight, let alone share the bed with him. 

With a defeated sigh, he sunk down onto the couch, catching his head in his hands as he rested his elbows on his knees. The shadows from the fire danced around his vision as he stared at the floor, mocking him as his mind reeled. 

•••

The morning light shone through the curtains he forgot to close last night. The sky was dim and muted, stereotypical of the English weather, making the apartment feel even more depressing than he felt. The dying embers of the fire drowned out the sounds of the city waking up outside, he tried to get his mind to focus on something—anything—that wasn’t the previous evening. 

He groaned as he shifted uncomfortably, his tall frame stiff from the hours of not sleeping on the couch. He welcomed the ache, a self-inflicted punishment of sorts, one he deserved. His mind continued to race, he didn’t need to look at his watch to know that it was early, way too early. But he couldn’t bear to lie there any longer. 

Eyes looking over to the bedroom door that was still shut. The urge to simply go over there and open it, to fix things, was overwhelming, but how could he just barge in? Especially after what transpired. The hurt look on your face was burned on the back of his eyelids, something he never wanted to see again. Ever. 

He sighed and decided to stand, making his way to the kitchen fully on autopilot. His fingers shook slightly as he picked up the kettle, holding it under the tap to fill it up, the sound of it bubbling to life filling the silence. His mind flicking through everything he could say to you. 

He shouldn’t have spoken to you like that, like you were a burden to him. 

The kettle began to whistle as he opened the cupboard for the tea bags, the familiarity of his actions helped him ground himself as he prepared the tea, just the way you liked it. It was a small gesture, nowhere near as big as it should have been, but it was all he could think to do. It wouldn’t fix everything, but it could be a start. A pathetic attempt at an apology, but hopefully, it would show he wasn’t trying to run away again. 

He poured the tea into two cups, he selected your favourite one too. One he picked up for you in one of the old antique shops in Diagon Alley, you refused to drink out of anything else for a week. For a brief moment, he paused, staring down at the steam as it slowly rose from the mugs. The anxiety shot through him and everything inside was telling him to leave the tea on the counter and walk away. But he couldn’t. Not to you. You needed him as much as he needed you and even his fear couldn’t keep him away. 

His breath shook as he inhaled, picking up both mugs as he made his way to the shared bedroom. He pushed down on the handle with his elbow and winced at the creak of the door as it opened, stepping inside as quietly as he could manage. 

The room was perfectly still, the same soft light from the morning cast gentle shadows across the bed you were huddled up in. His eyes fell to your sleeping figure and his chest clenched. You were fast asleep still, engulfed in the large blanket, but even as you slept, he could see the clear evidence of the night before—the faint tear stains that marked your cheeks, brow still visibly tense. 

Remus almost dropped the cups in his hands, breath catching in his throat. He caused this. Made you cry. The guilt was overwhelming, suffocating him, it wrapped around his chest as breathing became more strenuous. If he hated himself yesterday, he loathed himself now, forced to face the consequences of his own fear. Drove away the one person, who only ever asked him to love them. 

Carefully and quietly, he set the two cups down on the cluttered bedside table, hand trembling slightly as he knelt down next to the bed. His eyes were fixed on your face, the tear tracks were a painful reminder of everything he wished he could take back. 

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered from beside you, voice barely audible as you slept so close to where he was kneeling. He didn’t know if you could hear him, he didn’t know if it would make a difference, but he needed to say it anyway. Even just for himself. 

His eyes began to burn with the tears that didn’t fall last night as he sat back on his heels, staring at the floor as regret washed over him in waves. In truth, he knew he didn’t deserve forgiveness, but he wanted—needed to try. Maybe when you woke up, you could talk. Maybe he could try to explain. Maybe you would yell at him. Anything would do, as long as you didn’t walk out that door. 

He remained there, kneeling by your side, watching over you as you slept. Praying for any sign that you might forgive him. He didn’t want to wake you, if you had slept as badly as he did last night, you needed all the rest you could get. He would wait. It was the least he could do. 

You felt yourself drift back to consciousness as the light continued to pour into the room. For a brief moment, everything was still, quiet—until the events of last night came rushing back to you. Unease filled your body and the argument flashed through your mind. How he pushed you away. How he looked at you. 

You blinked slowly, eyes still heavy from the lack of sleep and last night’s tears. You turn your body slightly, and you are face to face with the sight of your boyfriend kneeling by the side of your bed, eyes wide with worry and regret. He looked even worse than yesterday, like he hadn’t slept at all. His dark circles were more prominent and his posture slumped over, like he didn’t have the energy to hold himself up. You felt your throat tighten. 

Brown eyes met yours as he shifted uncomfortably on the floor, body thrumming with nervous energy once again. 

“Hey,” he said softly, testing the waters with a tentative tone, almost breaking. He attempted to give you a weak smile but it fell before it could reach his eyes. “I—I made you some tea.”

You pushed yourself up into a seated position and glanced over at the bedside table, the anxiety increasing as you sat up, pulling the blanket closer to you for comfort. You glance between the tea and Remus, not knowing how to start this conversation just yet, scared of what he might say. 

He seemed to sense the distance between you both. “I…I’m sorry,” he began, his words rushed, as if he was scared you would leave before he had the chance to fully explain himself. “Last night—I didn’t mean any of it. I was out of line, and I—” He took a breath and fiddled with the fabric of his sleeve. “I’m an idiot.”

As he looked at you, you could see the same raw fear that filled his being. “I was angry at myself, not at you. Never at you, darling.” He spilled out, stumbling over his own words. “I shouldn’t have let it come out like that. I’m so so sorry.”

Your heart softened at the familiar pet name that fell from his lips, the usual warmth of his voice was present as he fought through his panic. You wanted to tell him to stop. To slow down. Tell him you weren’t angry. But the nerves that lingered from that evening held you back. You had seen him unsteady before, but not like this. It was jarring to you, to see someone who was usually so composed, so calm, completely unravelling before you. 

Remus reached forward but stopped himself, scared to touch you without permission. His slender hand retreated backwards as your heart broke for him. “Please, dove… don’t—don’t go. I don’t know what I’d do if I lost you.”

His voice cracked as he finished his sentence, his whole body rigid as if to prepare himself for the final blow. He wasn't just sorry—he was terrified. Terrified that he allowed himself to ruin everything, that you won’t forgive him, maybe he had pushed you too hard this time. Too hard to bring you back. 

The tension in your chest eased slightly, the pain from last night was now beginning to soften as you saw your sweet boy crumbling just below where you sat. You had always known he carried so much on his shoulders, so much uncertainty, but seeing it so raw—laid bare in front of you—was a different experience entirely. His words no longer hurt you, what did was knowing how much he hated himself for using them. 

“Remus…” you began to speak, voice a little hoarse from the tears last night. 

“I love you,” he blurted out suddenly, desperate to let you know. “I love you so much, sweetheart. I was scared—I was so bloody scared of hurting you I couldn’t realise I was doing it myself. I need you to understand I’m sorry. I don’t deserve you but—Merlin—I can’t bear to lose you.”

He leaned forward, his soft eyes searching your own for any sign you still want him. “Please, darling. Forgive me.”

Your heart constricted tightly in your chest at the sight of the broken boy on your floor, his vulnerability broke the last of your resistance. He was horrified by the thought of you leaving, it was clear it was tearing him apart. 

You sighed gently and took his unstable hand in your own, heartbreaking as you felt his fingers curl desperately around yours. “I forgive you,” you reassure him, giving his hand a reassuring squeeze. “I know you didn’t mean it. You were just scared.”

The relief that washed over Remus’ face was immediate, his body relaxing as he let out a shaky breath. He smiled as he looked over at your two hands intertwined, running his thumb gently over your soft skin. “Thank you,” his voice was still filled with emotion. “I’ll do better, I promise.”

He leaned in closer to you, cupping your face with the same tenderness you were so used to. “I love you, dove,” he tells you honestly, his eyes shining with adoration. “More than anything.”

You both stayed like that for a moment as you let all of the negative emotions leave the room, allowing it to be replaced with a now comforting silence. He made mistakes in the past, far too many to count probably, but he owned them. He was willing to make things right, and that was all you could ask for. 

You allowed yourself to lean back into the pillows behind you, muscles relaxing for the first time today. You glanced down at Remus, his face still a little bit pale, but the nervous energy had seemingly disappeared, now replaced by relief. 

“You know, I expected you to come in here last night, it was terrible. Sulking on the couch might be a new low for you.” You say teasingly, a playful smile now playing on your lips as you test the waters with humour. 

He blicked up at you, caught off guard slightly, but allowed a small smile to grace his features. “Oh, is that right?” He asked with a tired but amused expression. “And what else am I so terrible at, darling?”

You pulled your shoulders up and shrugged, pretending to think deeply for a moment. “Let’s see..brooding? You are certainly a natural at that. And it was a relief that you weren’t there to steal the blanket last night too.”

He lets out a small chuckle, tilting his head to admire your happier expression, something he was unaware that he missed so much. “I’ll have to work on that I suppose,” he replied, although his voice was still laced with concern.

“Are you really alright?” You ask once more, still wanting to help like you did last night. “The moon is full in a few days.”

The brunette’s smile faded ever so slightly as he nodded slowly. “Yeah,” he admitted, now feeling better about having this conversation. “I’ve been worried. More than usual, I think.”

You frowned and squeezed his hands once more, silently communicating that you were there for him. “Why don’t you get in, lie here for a while with me? It might help calm you down a bit.” You ask, hoping beyond anything he would say yes. “And since it’s the weekend, we can do whatever you want. Sleep, read, watch a movie…or just stay here, as long as you want.”

“Whatever I want?” He asked as he looked at you with a silent gratitude, followed by a light chuckle. “That sounds dangerous.”

He quickly clambered into the bed beside you, pulling you into his aching arms and placing a soft kiss on your temple. “Thank you, darling,” he hummed with satisfaction as you snuggled deeper into his chest.  “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

He pulled you even closer as if you might disappear in a moment. You allowed his body heat to soothe all of the residual emotions you felt last night, melting into his embrace. Leaving only the quiet sounds of your breathing getting heavier as Remus heard you drifting back to sleep, in his arms. Right where you are supposed to be. 

[super-clearlysaltybouquet]

The One With the Blouse (1/2)

Part 1/2

Wolfstar x reader      Sirius Black x reader      Remus Lupin x reader      Sirius Black x Remus Lupin      Sirius Black x reader x Remus Lupin 

Established couple (throuple)

Summary: Reader cares about how people see her, tensions boil over when the group get ready for a Gryffindor party

Warnings:

Angst (argument)

Hurt (and minimal comfort…)

Lots of insecurity, feeling disposable in a relationship

my first fic ever so please be kind…will potentially write a part 2 if people like this one (feedback is welcomed)

word count: 1.8k

Sirius looks so pretty in his white blouse. The silk brings out his dark hair perfectly, and the fabrics warm undertones complimented his pale skin. “Is all the fuss really necessary?” Sirius asked, bothering with the bow neckline of the blouse.

“You want to look good, don’t you?” You respond stiffly, tying, and re-tying the bow, unsatisfied with how it sits around his neck. 

“You forgot to Iron it.”, you say, Tying, untying, re-tying. Completely zeroed in.

“Does it really matter?” Sirius responds, completely exasperated.

Remus watches on from the armchair by his bed. It’s standard routine at this point. Before every common room party, Remus is ready by dinner - always a plain top and trousers, today a white T-shirt with blue jeans. “Very James Dean”, Sirius had said. He's been sitting there entirely patient on the same armchair for the past two hours, reading only half attentively as you and Sirius get ready.

“Sweetheart, the bow is fine”, Remus advises gently. He’s not in a rush, but he can tell that as much as you usually enjoy it, today the up-doing process is stressing you out. 

“No..no, not yet”, you respond absentmindedly, still fixated on Sirius’s blouse. 

Tying, untying, re-tying the bow. Sirius huffs out a humourless laugh and takes a quick step back turning completely away from you. Your hands are still held up, frozen where his neck would be. Your eyebrows furrow, and Remus looks up from his book.

“It’s the same every bloody time!”, Sirius suddenly cries out, you’re completely taken aback. 

“Sirius”, Remus warns.

“Godric, Forgive me! I didn’t iron my fucking blouse!”, he feigns, “You’re suffocated me” he finishes, coldly, glaring daggers straight through you. He’s still so beautiful, with his ebony hair hanging long and dark over his face, but the pit in your stomach is somehow darker. 

Remus is stood to his full height now, book abandoned. “You’re out of line”, his anger still somehow contained. And Sirius has the gall to let out a laugh. The party in the common room seems to have started. You can hear music and laughing below the bluestone floors. You try and divert your focus to that lively sound and take it off the painful bob in your throat. 

“I’m out of line? You’re kidding Moony”, Sirius laughs. his lack of sincerity is incredibly unnerving. “The bitch is vapid”, and your heart nearly stops, you can feel the sick climbing up your throat. Remus is seething, but you’re not sure he knows exactly what to say anyway. 

“What?”, is all you can muster hopelessly. 

Sirius takes a step towards you, and you all seem to move at once. You take one step back at the same time Remus steps between you and the shorter boy.

“Cut it out Sirius”, Remus warns, towering above the both of you with his height, and his domineering demeanour. But Sirius is undeterred.

“You. are. entirely. vapid”, he repeats, now looking over at you past Remus’s shoulder. “you’re just like my mother” he whispers to himself, like some sort of secret revelation, and you just want it all to end. “Completely superficial, shallow, and entirely vapid” he seethes, before turning back away from you again, taking in a slow deep breath. You think you can hear his heart beating nearly just as quick as yours.

Sirius’s accusation sits inside you. You can’t deny that you do like nice things. Your jewellery was all made custom, you shopped at the best boutiques on Diagon Alley, and you kept up appearances. 

Your parents have always been devastatingly high-achieving. You were no stranger to the odd charity gala, or pureblood ball. So, for you that meant endless expectations to live up to. Making sure clothes were ironed, hair was done right and shoes were all polished was just second nature. You pay attention to these things because you have to. Your label as a “washed-up-witch” in Witch Weekly’s coverage of the Macmillan ball in 72 serves as a reminder. Filtered through pre-teen public humiliation, these things stick. As deflated as you felt regarding Sirius’s outburst, you could feel an equal anger bubbling just below the surface. 

“You did not just compare me to your draconian fanatic of a mother”, is the first thing that leaves your lips. Your eyes are wide, and that anger is bubbling over. Yet, your voice is so level that you think you just might have the upper hand. You can tell that Sirius was expecting you to respond with equal fervour, he wanted a fight, and your composure has caught him off guard. You think for a second, maybe he didn’t even mean to hurt you. 

Remus would back you up if you needed him to, but he knows you really don’t need him to. You’d like to say your piece, and he gives your hand a gentle squeeze in support.

“Just because you can afford to reject tradition and expectation doesn’t mean we all have that luxury” you seethe.

Sirius has always had the reputation of a Black Sheep, but it made him shine nevertheless. Every act of rebellion on his part was praised and admired by your peers. But as a woman in the 70s, and the only child in a pureblood family - you were often subject to incomparable scrutiny.

“Maybe I’m too much sometimes” your voice breaks, and the tears have started to flow of their own accord now. Rushing like silent broken faucets, or shower heads. Sirius’s eyes flash with regret. You look up at the ceiling to blink them back, and Remus gives your hand another squeeze, silently shaking his head and biting his tongue. He’s glaring at Sirius with a healthy mixture of disappointment, and something akin to fury.

“I can’t help but care about how I look”, you whisper to no one in particular, “This is usually fun, getting dressed up together”, and Sirius looks completely in despair. That almost cocky, goading aura that surrounded him has been evaporated by your undeniable heartbreak. He’s fidgeting with the hem of the blouse now, and his fingers move hesitantly up to his neckline, where your hands sat only moments ago. He’s palming at the skin there, as it slowly turns pink from the pressure.

“I’m only fussy because I care, Sirius”, you say wavering, lip quivering as your crying takes both your eyes, and your voice. He can’t look you in the eye.

The subtext isn’t missed by either of the boys, you care because you love them. You enjoy dressing them up because you want them to look good and enjoy themselves. To protect them from any anxiety associated with landing on a worst dressed list, even informally among the Gryffindor party-goers three flood below.

You look down at your disco boots, perfect stockings and shift dress. It all feels so silly now, wearing the outfit you picked out three days in advance. You want to crawl out of your skin, and you really don’t feel like dancing. Sirius is still palming at his collarbones, staring with dazed and shallow eyes at his feet and the floor below them. You can’t see his face properly behind his hair, but you know him well enough to think he might be crying too. “I hope you’re proud of yourself Black” Remus chimes in, and you wince at the use of that last name. Remus’s hand rubs small circles around the back of your neck, you can't help but want his hot skin off you.

“I-I didn’t-”, Sirius starts, but you walk from the room with Remus quick at your heels before he can finish. 

The stairway down to the common room is empty, with the party building up below. It’s just you and Remus standing still on the stairs. “You know he didn’t mean that”, Remus says kindly, more for your sake than Sirius’s. He’s brushing the tears from your cheeks with his thumbs, and gently pushing the hair back from around your face. “He gets like this when he’s stressed, it’s not your fault”, he reassures, kissing the top of your head. 

“I stressed him, I should have just let him be”, you whisper, and Remus is silent. This is the first big fight you've had as a couple. You’re a slightly more recent addition to their pairing. Quips and little disagreements have never been an issue. Even when you were all just friends these things were always resolved in a matter of minutes - or a few hours at most, but this is the first time a spat has ended in tears. 

You wonder if this was a mistake. You hope to Godric that Remus isn’t thinking it too. “I think I’ll go to bed”, you say finally, and you can feel him frown. 

“But you were so excited for tonight” he says sadly, more of an acknowledgment, you know he doesn’t mean to change your mind. You’re all hardly in the mood for a party.

“Maybe you and Sirius can still have some fun”, and you hope it doesn’t come across as bitter, but Remus’s solemn expression suggests otherwise, he lets it go.

“I’ll talk to him”, Remus assures, as he molds his body around yours in a much-needed embrace. Having him so close stirs a vulnerability within you, and you’re sure that if you could see his face, you wouldn't have the courage to open your mouth. 

“Maybe we were wrong”, you whisper into his chest, scared. 

Remus is burning 20 degrees hotter.

“What makes you say that?”, he responds measured, but the unease in his voice is palpable. He’s pulled back to look at your face now, and you fidget under his gaze. You give him a look to say without words, ‘are you kidding?’.

“But you know we love you”, Remus says desperately, more of a question than a statement, gripping the sides of your head firmly, so as to say, ‘please believe me’. You just shake your head between his hands. “You heard him, didn’t you?”, you start, “Completely superficial, shallow, and entirely vapid” you quote, and Remus cringes. 

“I’ll talk to him”, he repeats.

“No, no its okay, I’m going to bed”, you say, almost completely defeated by the tidal wave of self-doubt flooding through you.

“Dove-”

“How about you talk to him, and you two can decide what we do from here”, Remus looks heartbroken at the implication.

“Surely you don’t think we don’t want to see you anymore?”, There seems to be something sparkly welling in his eyes too, Godric, what a horrible evening.

You’re so in your head you hardly register Remus’s question. When he goes to pull you close again you take a small step back, your fingers still interlinked. The moonlight shines in through the stained glass, and the sparkle of salt in Remus’s eyes begins to fall. You can hear Diana Ross’s smooth voice echoing off the stone from downstairs, tonight could have gone so differently. You can’t help but feel you’ve caused all this. Whatever animosity Sirius seems to have been harbouring towards you, you’re sure it lives inside Remus too, even if you can’t see it yet. You turn around before you have the chance to look back.

“I’m going to bed”.

[unconventional-lawnchair]

Like my father pt 2 {burb}

Sirius x Potter!Reader

An: Already writing part 3. This can also be read as a solo.

CW: Amos Diggory slander, not proof read, use of y/n, bad dates, just cheesy fluff,

Summary: Reader has a bad date and Sirius comes to the rescue

Wc: 2451

Part one Part three

“I genuinely can't believe you let her walk out that door with him.” James groaned from the love seat where Lily had found a perch in his lap.

It was just a few months after your graduation when you informed your family and co. that you were seeing someone. Someone four years older, Amos Diggory. James protested, Sirius protested, even your mother did. Didn't stop you from accepting his date invitation. Nor did it stop you from leaving to go out to eat with him either.

Lily rolled her eyes, gently nudging James with her elbow. “Oh, come off it, James. She’s not a child anymore. She can handle herself.”

Sirius ran a hand through his hair, every part of him was tense, despite how he played it cool. “Drop it, mate.”

James sat up straighter, glaring at Sirius with indignation. “Drop it? Are you serious? She’s going out with a guy who’s practically an adult! What if he tries something? You know how boys are at that age!”

“Yeah, he's one of them.” Remus muttered and took a sip of his tea, earning a smack from Sirius.

“Stop talking like she isn't old enough to make her own choices.” Sirius huffed, crossing his arms defensively. “She was bound to start dating eventually.”

“Sure, but that doesn’t mean I can’t worry! I mean.” James pointed at Sirius and then back at himself. “He's older than us. I don't like it.”

“Maybe he is, but she’s not going to be alone with him in a dark alley, James. They’re going to a restaurant,” Remus chimed in, giving an amused sigh. “Let her live a bit.”

“This conversation isn't happening again.” Lily groaned as she stood up, grabbing James by his hand. “We're going to bed.”

James looked up at Lily and squeezed her hand with an affectionate, hell, lovesick look. “Yes ma'am.”

“Whipped.” Sirius huffed and Remus gave him a look.

“Goodnight all.” James waved before he pointed at Sirius with a glare. “You're gonna lose her, mate. Get your shit together.”

Sirius flipped him off before he sunk back into his bed. Sighing threw his nose and sank into the couch.

“You can't ignore it forever, Sirius.” Remus muttered and Sirius gave a scoff.

“Oh, but I can. And I will. She trusts me, she likes me, she thinks I'm just the greatest. I'm okay with that.” Sirius sighed and Remus gave a huff.

“Sirius, if she likes this guy-”

“Then I'll be happy for her.” He interrupted and ran his fingers a bit more purposefully through his hair. “She'll find someone worth her time.”

“Ugh. Is this how it felt talking to me?” Remus mumbled and Sirius rolled his eyes.

“I'm nothing, Remus. I don't have a damn thing to offer her. Not even my name means more than hers.”

Remus frowned. “That’s not true, and you know it. You’re a good guy, and you care about her. That counts for something. She wouldn't care about anything else.”

“Yeah, but it’s not enough,” Sirius grumbled, his voice laced with frustration. “I’m just her brother’s best friend. Some couch surfer her parents pitied. I’m not what she needs. Not when she could have someone like Amos. He’s got it all; looks, charm, and a future ahead of him. What do I have? A knack for getting into trouble and a penchant for living on the edge?”

“Sirius,” Remus interjected firmly, leaning forward. “You know she doesn't think like that. You haven't even given her the choice.”

“But she so often picks the wrong one.” He groaned and Remus shook his head.

“Just think about it, mate. I'm going to bed, you coming?”

“No I uhm…” Sirius glanced at the window and bit his cheek. “Think ima stay up for her. You know, to lock up after her.”

Remus slowly smiled and nodded, dismissing himself.

~~~

Sirius was shocked awake by the sound of the house phone ringing. He hissed and rubbed his eyes, having fallen asleep on the couch.

He groaned, the muffled ringing echoing through the house as he squinted at the clock on the wall. It was well past nine, when you should have been home. Who in their right mind was calling this late? He internally nagged himself for not being awake to welcome you home.

Reluctantly, he pushed himself up from the couch, his body stiff from the awkward position he had been in. As he shuffled toward the kitchen, he could hear the phone ringing again, the sound almost piercing his ears. He reached the phone just as it stopped, but before he could breathe a sigh of relief, it started ringing again.

“Ugh, bloody hell.” He muttered, picking up the receiver a bit more aggressively then needed. “Potter residence, what-”

“Sirius? Is that you?”

At the sound of your voice he almost toppled over. “Bambi? The hell? What are you still doing out?”

“Uhm.. dinner ran a bit later than I thought.” You whispered and you began to ring your fingers through the cord. “Would it.. would it be too much to ask you to come pick me up?”

Sirius thought about what you were asking for a moment, you didn't exactly sound thrilled to be there.

Not that he had to think about his answer for too long.

“Of course, bambi. Just stay put, yeah?”

“Okay, I’ll be here.” You sounded relieved, and Sirius could picture you visibly relaxing on the other end of the line.

He hung up the phone and quickly grabbed his jacket from the back of the couch, his mind racing with questions.

Sirius slipped on his shoes and headed for the door, he paused and quickly grabbed a pair of your sneakers before hurrying out.

It wasn't long before he got to the restaurant. Walking at night wasn't Sirius’s idea of fun, but the idea of you sounding so nervous and scared, he didn't even realize how fast he was moving. Some fancy place he was sure you'd never be found dead in. Even with your family’s status, you'd more often than not be found in diners.

He walked in, standing awkwardly at the waiting area. He peeked over the hostess stand, looking around the restraint curiously, only able to spot Amos sitting at a table alone. He furrowed his brow, before he felt a tug at his sleeve.

Turning around to see you, smiling up at him. The same smile you shot him when you headed out earlier tonight.

“Hey, little bug, what's going on?” His entire demeanor turned soft, and your smile faltered just a moment.

“I just wanna go home.” You whispered softly and Sirius took a glance back at the table, able to see Diggory looking around curiously.

He nodded and wrapped his arm around your waist, escorting you out of the restaurant to the grand stairs that lead to the sidewalk. He pointed down to the last few steps. “Sit.”

You huffed but did as you were told. Watching as he kneeled in front of you and took off your heels, replacing them with your sneakers.

You hugged yourself, the noodle strap dress doing very little to cut the cold. “Thank you, Siri…”

He sighed a bit at the nickname, standing up and taking your hand to help you up. “Did you call me all the way out here to ditch some boy?”

“Merlin, Siri, he's such a git.” You hissed and looped your arm around his. Clinging to what little warmth he gave off, as he began to lead you home.

Sirius raised an eyebrow, a mix of concern and curiosity flooding his thoughts. “What do you mean? What happened?”

You leaned into him a bit more, seeking comfort from the chill in the air and the whirlwind of emotions from the evening. Not used to the more casual treatment from men. Usually, being James Potter’s sister was a reminder enough for men to go above and beyond for your attention.

Given your brother was the boy who would dedicate his Quidditch Cup wins to his girlfriend or declare his love with obnoxious displays. Of course, {Y/N} Potter wouldn't entertain anything less. Seems Amos figured a pretty face was enough. “It started off fine, but then he just… I don’t know, he got too flirty and it felt really off. I thought I could handle it, but he just kept pushing. I felt uncomfortable, and I didn't want to make a scene.”

“Flirty how?” Sirius asked, keeping his voice low and steady, trying to gauge how serious the situation was. Debating on if it was worth running back in.

“He kept talking about how pretty I looked and how lucky he was to be with me.” You explained, your voice barely above a whisper. “At first, it was nice. I mean, you know I like being flattered.”

“What? No. I would have never guessed.” Sirius mocked and you hit his side with a huff.

“Shut up!” You laughed lightly, but the tension in your voice betrayed your discomfort. “But then he started getting too personal, asking if I was a good kisser and if I wanted to go back to his place after dinner. It just felt… wrong.”

Sirius felt a surge of anger course through him, and he tightened his grip on your arm as you walked together. “Did you tell him to back off?”

You nodded, looking down at your feet. “I did, but he just brushed it off and laughed. I didn’t want to cause a scene, so I just made up an excuse about needing to call you. It was the only way I could get out of there.”

“Good thinking.” He praised, his voice softening. “You did the right thing. You don’t have to put up with that kind of behavior from anyone, no matter how charming they might seem.”

You looked up at him, slowly your bottom lip began to quiver and he gave a surprised and panicked look. Before his expression slowly turned soft. “Oh, bambi.”

“I didn't like it.” You whispered, quickly lifting your free hand to dry your gathering tears. “It was my first date and I hated it.”

“Hey, hey.” He whispered and stopped walking. Lifting his hand to shoo away your own, using his thumb to dry your tears. “Hey, none of that, it wasn't your fault.”

“He was so gross.” You whined out and he tutted, pulling away as you took a shaky breath. “And his cologne smells awful.”

Sirius gave a startled chuckle and you slowly smiled up at him. “Smelt like a mix of cheap aftershave and desperation.” You added, a hint of laughter breaking through your earlier distress. He gave a louder laugh as he began to lead you back down the street.

“How cruel of you.” He chuckled and you shook your head, giving a small sniff. “How cruel of me? How cruel of him! I had to smell it all night, I'm the victim here.”

Sirius couldn’t help but smile at your determination to find humor in the situation despite how upset you had been moments earlier. “You’re absolutely right.”

You giggled, the sound warming Sirius’s heart. It was nice to see you lightening up, even if just a little. “I mean, really, if you’re going to wear something that strong, at least make sure it doesn’t smell like it came from the bargain bin. My dad has better smelling cologne and he actually gets it from the bargain bin.”

He shook his head. “Do you even know cologne? Is that even on your radar?”

“Well, no but.. I like my dads. And yours.” You hummed and leaned in closer, taking a small whiff of him before you scrunched up your nose. “Not this one. The green bottle.”

Sirius raised an eyebrow, a playful smirk creeping onto his face. “The one I wore at Hogwarts?”

You laughed, your tension easing. “Definitely. It smells way better than what that git was wearing. You’d have all the ladies swooning.”

“Ah, but I’m not trying to swoon anyone tonight.” He hummed, his tone suddenly more serious as he looked down at you. “I’m just focused on getting you home safe.”

You met his gaze, a mix of gratitude and warmth filling your chest. “I appreciate that, Sirius. It means a lot to me.”

“Course. Next time you need a date, you just let me know, and I’ll screen them first,” Sirius offered, half-joking but also completely serious. “I’ll make sure they meet the ‘Sirius Standard.’”

You laughed. “The Sirius Standard? Oh please, I know how you treat your girls.”

“Not my girls. They aren't my girls.” He chuckled and you rolled your eyes.

“You don't have girls anymore? You've changed, Black.”

“Who needs girls when I got you to look after? Too much work if you ask me.” He huffed and you slowly smiled, fiddling with the threads of his warn jacket.

You guys eased into a calm silence. It wasn't long until you were home, and he was lifting up his keys and kneeling down to take off your shoe. You gave a sleepy yawn, looking down as he stood infront of you.

He did a double take, noticing how you chewed your lip.

“What's on your mind, bambi?”

“Just.. boys. Is it weird, Siri? That I haven't dated yet?”

“What? Doll, is that why you went out with him?”

“... maybe. Just.. James got to me the other day. I haven't dated anyone, that can't be normal.”

He cooed and walked over to you, “It's not, but it's special. You know what you want. That's a good thing.”

You looked up at him, your expression thoughtful. “You really think so?”

“Absolutely.” He affirmed confidently. “You’re not going to settle for just anyone. You’ll wait for someone who makes you feel safe and happy. That’s way more important than just dating for the sake of it.”

You smiled softly. “Thanks, Sirius. You always know how to make me feel better.”

“That's my job, isn't it?” He grinned back at you, before lifting up his arms. “Come ‘er.”

You giggled and hurried over to him, slipping your arms around his waist and nuzzling your face into his chest. He wrapped his arms around you and held you close, giving you a tender kiss on your forehead.

“Don't go rushing into things, bams. You've got a lot of years to find someone.” He whispered against your hair and you absolutely melted into him. Not noticing as the stairs from the second floor creaked and James peaked down to look at Sirius. Giving him a smile and hurrying back upstairs.

“Siri?”

“Yeah?”

“Can we watch a movie tonight?”

“Is it Grease?”

“... maybe.”

[aliidarling]

i’ve been playing the og silent hill 2 and it’s SO fun guys. i’m almost done w/the apartment complex part, i’m so excited to meet maria :3

JAMES SUNDERLAND x fem!reader

— nsfw content

summary; after your car breaks down, you find yourself in need of help and shelter. a town near by, silent hill, catches your attention and you end up running into an older man who’s name is james.

warnings: smut, p in v, soft sex, pathetic james, mary is mentioned a bit, he’s a bad person, unprotected sex, praise, fingering, slightly dub-con because he’s kinda imagining mary but it’s completely consensual, low-key up to you wether he imagined mary or you

the streets were foggy, a thick cloud of mystery blocking your view. your steps echoed throughout the empty town, sending goosebumps down your spine, a frown tugging at your lips. you couldn’t even remember why you were here—

ah, that’s right, your car had run down while you were driving near by and now you were on a search for a hotel or motel, desperate for a place to crash. normally, you’d sleep in your car, but it was far too cold for that. the snow was coming down without any warning, coating your surroundings in a thick coat of white.

so far you hadn’t seen or heard anything from this small town. you had seen the signs, the title itself giving you an eerie feeling. silent hill, you thought, sounds like something out of a horror movie.

a small thud comes from behind you and you whip around, looking towards the source. you manage to spot a young girl quickly running behind one of the buildings into a dark alley way, sending a wave of uneasiness over you. a young girl in a town like this, by herself? that couldn’t be good.

“hey!” you called out, running after her the best you could. wasn’t the best day to wear a skirt, you quickly realized. you struggled to catch up with her, quickly loosing her due to the fog. but her footsteps stayed, a clear print in the snow following her figure. you sighed tiredly and patted your chest, regaining your breath. the temperature was gaining an advantage on you.

right as you finally regained your energy and was gonna continue your search for the little girl, a male voice from behind you had you jumping in shock and turning around quickly. the mysterious man wasn’t too tall, with a lean physique and a dark green jacket. he didn’t have a menacing aura, if anything, he seemed like a soaked cat.

“hello?” he says hesitantly, keeping a distance from you. his brows furrow as he scans you, an unsure glint in his eyes that you can’t quite read. he seemed troubled, stressed more then the average person.

“..hello?” you say back, almost hesitantly. you step back, hugging yourself as the snow falls onto your hair. you gently blow a few snowflakes out of your breath. he fiddled with his fingers as he frowned, giving you a small nod.

“i’m james.. i’m looking for my wife, mary.” he says quietly, his voice soft. your posture relaxes slightly at his words, looking him up and down. he seemed the opposite of a potential threat, if anything, he’d need saving from any dangers.

“uhm. sorry, i haven’t seen any women.” you mumble, looking around. it was complete silence, giving you a feeling of discomfort. you wanted out of this town as fast as possible.

“uhm, yeah —well, she has brown hair, brown eyes, pretty—“ he rambled nervously, stepping forward. your lips press together as he displays his obvious distress.

“what’s your wife doing in a town like this?” you tilt your head in question, glancing at his features. gentle stubble, tired eyes, dirty blonde hair and firm brows. handsome. a little pathetic looking. like he’d cry easily.

“she.. don’t worry about that.” he sighs, preparing to turn away. you panic momentarily and step forward hurriedly, tugging at his sleeve with a tugged scowl. “my car broke down near by and i have no where to go. can i stay with you, please? this place gives me the heebie jeebies.”

he stares down at you in confusion, glancing at the way your hand tugs at his sleeve and how hopeful you look. he’s not a horrible person, he reminds himself, he should at least help this young girl out.

“yeah, sure.” he sighs.

a few hours had passed and you find yourself growing some sort of attachment to this older man. he’s attractive, kind, sweet and gentle— what more could you want? he’s blissfully unaware of the way you’ve devoted yourself to him, the way you give him the same look a puppy would give its owner when you’re walking behind him.

your hand is always holding his cuff, too scared to let go. the fog was too thick, you feared if you let your gaze drift for a mere second you’d never see the man again. the wind was starting to pick up now. you both were walking inside the abandoned apartments when he spoke up.

“you look like her, you know.” he says quietly, looking towards you. there was a permanent sad expression on his face that ached your heart. such a pretty face, always frowning.

“your wife?” you say softly, looking up at him. he nods silently and you look back down at yourself, wondering if that meant you were his type. did he think you were pretty? you hoped he did.

“same face and smile, same voice.” he mutters, lifting a hand to gently pet your hair. you smile softly as he runs his fingers through your locks, his eyes glued to the way your hair glistened.

“she seemed lovely.” you attempt.

he offers a weak smile of gratitude.

the town was slowly trapping you two. the fog was getting worse and more thick, the wind singing a lullaby to drift you towards the darkness. you didn’t like it one bit, you didn’t like how the sun started to set and how the noises of the undead increased.

your hands clutched james sleeve cautiously. he frowns and turns to you slightly as you two walk down the street, a bat in his hand with a thick log in yours, you both had found the makeshift weapons in the apartment complex from a few hours back.

“you okay?” he rasps, giving you a worried look. your brows were furrowed with fear as you shook your head, glancing around you at the over-grown trees and the broken windows of shops.

“can we find somewhere to stay for the night? i don’t want to be here when, you know.. it’s dark.” you gulp hard.

he opens his mouth to protest for just a second before his thoughts flick back to the apartment complex, to the large pyrmaid-headed man who attacked you both, who disappeared mysteriously— who wielded a huge execution blade. a vivid image of you being slaughtered by said blade flash through his mind and he shudders, turning to you with a small nod.

“we passed a motel earlier.” he suggests, gently placing his hand on your back to lead you in the direction. you happily follow, resisting the urge to curl into his warmth. days of being by yourself without any warm bodies has you craving this old man you’ve never met before.

“sounds good.” you smiled.

the motels were run down and the rooms were cold. the bed was full of dust, the corners of the room filled with insects and the bulbs flickering. it wasn’t the most comforting place you could be in but it wasn’t the worst, you were grateful you had at least a place to stay.

the mattress creaks underneath your weight as you shift, looking at the brown walls. james shakes the blanket roughly, the dust flying off and into your nose. you cough and he looks at you with an awkward expression, feeling stupid. he mutters a small apology and you give him a little nod, coughing lowly.

he sets the blanket back down and pats the pillows, brushing off the crumbs of who knows. the sound of the fabric wrinkling fills the dark room. you glance at the window and the foggy streets outside of your small room, the dark clouds and the empty parking lot for the motel. you wondered if this place was ever a popular town where people visited often.

he exhales. “you want left side or right?”

you peer over at the bed, blinking slowly.

“ermm, i don’t mind. right?” you say hesitantly. he nods and sits down on his side, stretching his arms momentarily before pulling off his shoes. you keep your staring subtle as he straightens his legs and lays on top of the blanket, arms crossed over his chest. his eyes are glued to the crumbling ceiling, his breath slow.

another creak comes from the mattress as you settle down next to him, keeping a respectable distance. you decide against crawling under the sheets, not wanting to know what lays underneath. a quick glance towards him makes you squirm uncomfortably, your body shiver at the cold. your shoes are kicked off by the edge of the bed frame, thankfully your hoodie is warm enough to give you a small sense of warmth.

silence fills the air. it’s quiet, but if you listen closely you can hear both of your breaths and sound of the harsh winds outside. the snow is getting worse and it’s only growing colder and colder. you shiver.

“james?” you whisper.

“yeah?” he responds breathlessly, surprised you’re speaking to him. his voice is rushed, almost like he’s scared he’ll forget what to say. he’s nervous around you, anxious.

“uhm,” you start hesitantly, “mary.. what happened to her?”

he struggles to answer for a moment, feeling his stomach churn at the reminder of his late wife. he missed mary, he missed her warmth and how she used to hold him at night. her soft voice still echoes in his head at night, haunting him for the unforgivable act he had committed to her.

“she got sick.” he forces out, his own words feeling bitter in his tongue. he tells himself in his head that she passed away in her sleep, that he awoke one day from deep slumber and got a call from the hospital, that he had nothing to do with it—. but the small voice in the back of his head knows better.

“she had skin cancer. fatal. only had a few months to live.” his eyes drift towards you and takes in your facial expression. how it softens and you gaze at him in sympathy, sympathy he doesn’t deserve. you were too sweet, too gullible. why were you even sleeping in the same bed with a man you just met?

“i’m so sorry.” you say under your breath, offering a look of sorrow. the thought of this gentle man losing his wife sounded horrible to you. he seemed loving, the type of husband who wouldn’t think twice about walking the seven seas for his wife. in a way, he was. here he was, in silent hill, looking for his wife. you respected that.

“it’s okay. she died three years ago.” he sighed heavily, turning to face you fully. your eyes widen in shock as he states the loss of his wife. why was he here then? looking for a dead woman? his lips tug up into a dry smile at the sight of your confused face and huffs quietly.

“i’m not crazy. i swear.” he hums, lifting a hand to gently lift a hair strand off your face. your heart flutters at the touch, watching as he gently twirls your lock with his finger before letting it lay back on your head by your ear. your big eyes blink at him, he blinks back.

“i don’t think you’re crazy.” you state softly.

he raises a brow in question.

“you’re just hopeful.”

his breath hitches at your statement. he can’t help but realize how young and bright you really are, you still have that light in your eyes he lost three years ago. what he would do for a night of happiness.

he slowly inches closer, eyes drifting down to your soft lips. they look just like hers. soft and plump, bottom lip slightly bigger then upper lip, a baby pink. he can’t help but imagine if you’d taste like her too. she tasted like peaches.

his movement doesn’t go unnoticed by you, and neither does his lingering gaze on your lips. your breath slows as he slowly leans in, one hand going to gently cup your soft cheek. he holds you carefully, scared he would break you if he squeezed too hard. like a fragile vase. you were so fragile in his arms.

“are you gonna kiss me?” you exhale shakily, looking as the man props himself on top of you with lust-filled stare.

“i don’t wanna hurt you.” he mumbles softly, running his finger down your cheek before letting it brush against your bottom lip, letting it tug slightly before he resumes his spit on your cheek.

“you could never hurt me, james.”

if only he could tell you how wrong you were.

as his lips press against yours, he concludes that you don’t taste like peaches, but more like blueberries. a deep midnight blue that exploded over him, tainting his clothes as you weakly tug him closer. your soft moan sends a shiver down his spine as he whines against your lips, pressing his body against yours.

you moan his name as he parts his lips from you, making him groan lowly at the sound of your voice. he wasted no time and smashes his lips back against yours, swallowing your erotic noises and letting them fall down into his crotch. he pressed his hips against yours and shuddered instantly, almost jolting at the friction.

he hadn’t feel the touch of another woman in years. now don’t get him wrong, he fisted his cock almost every day, he had a high sexual drive but with no one to help him(anymore.) he tries not to feel embarrassed as he rocks his clothed dick against you, whimpering into your neck like horny teenager.

“i’m sorry, i’m sorry, i’m sorry,” he rambled with eyes squeezed shut, hissing as your warm thighs wrap around his waist to tug him closer. he could probably finish in his boxers if he continued, he knew he was pathetic enough to be capable. but he wanted to feel you, and that made him feel so guilty. did he even deserve you? after comparing you to mary countless times and exploiting your innocence?

“i-it’s okay, please— james,” you moan. his hands dig into your waist before they start wandering your smaller body, placing themselves around the waistband of your shirt. he gives you a pleading look, bottom lip quivering pathetically.

“please, i need you so bad. i’m so sorry.” he whines, his voice shaky. you gasp at his words, a small yelp leaving you as he tugs your skirt down roughly and reveals your panties to the motel rooms dusty air. you were glad you had put on one of your newer pairs instead of those older ones in the back of your closet.

your eyes widen in shock as he wastes no time to pull your panties to the side, the cold air brushing against your pussy shamelessly. your nipples harden underneath your hoodie and you whine weakly, lips squirming. you needed friction.

“you’re so wet.” he mutters to himself in amazement, running his finger across your lower lips and circling your hole lightly, admiring the slickness and how you clench around nothing, eagerly waiting to suck him in. his eyes are glued to your body as he slowly sinks his finger into you till his knuckle, relishing in your soft sigh.

“s’for you.” you coo softly, fluttering your lashes at him. he inhales deeply and nods, mumbling something under his breath as he wiggles his finger. he feels a particular gummy spot inside your warm insides towards the back that has you immediately clenching down and he groans, remembering how mary used to reacted to his touch. you both were so similar that it was killing him inside.

he pushes his finger pad against you harshly as he connects his lips with your clit, gently sucking your bundle and nerves and making you feel like you’re on fire. you whine needingly at the pleasure shooting through your body as your feet dig into the creaky mattress, small moans leaving your throat. he hums into your pussy, not separating, set on making you orgasm on his face. he wants to taste you.

a few more sucks and slow rubs against your inner walls has you clamping down and jolting underneath him, feeling the knot in your tummy snap and release all over his mouth and fingers. a thin sticky coat of cum covers his fingers, little drops falling from his chin. he pulls away with a low sigh, licking your juices from his fingers, all while maintaining eye contact with you. your breath hitches at the movement of his tongue around his slender fingers, watching how he lapped your cum and swallowed it down. you whimpered softly for him.

a shaky exhale leaves you as you take in the sight of him kneeling over you, unzipping his jeans and shrugging off his dark jacket, letting it drop to the corner of the mattress. he positions himself above you, caging you in. for a man with such a soft and comforting presence, his body caging you in made you feel so small and vulnerable. his breath gently brushed against your face as he leans into your neck, humming to himself as his cock springs free.

you gulp nervously at the sight of him. he wasn’t too big, but he definitely wasn’t small. slightly above average with a pink tip, nice girth and a soft curve. he was so pretty, his pubic hair rough and growing into his v-line. you held onto him hungrily as he pushed his tip against you slightly, watching your expression and how you react to him slowly pushing inside you.

“easyyyy.” he hushed, pressing his forehead against yours to be able to watch your face morph into a blissful expression first hand, to be able to watch as you moaned at the feeling of him slowly sinking inside you. your legs subconsciously bend at the knee, curving and wrapping around his waist in a poor attempt to push him deeper.

good thing he can read your body language. his hands go to wrap around your wrists, holding you down as he presses his body more into yours, whimpering under his breath as your tight walls surrounds him. it felt like a warm hug to him, something he had missed.

small thrusts turn into deep strokes, sliding in and out of your pussy at a smooth rate. his noises are hot, guttural and raw from the depths of his throat, his face scrunched up in concentration as he hovers above you. his hips keep up its pace, a small squelching sound filling the cheap motel room. your noises are music to his ears as he groans lowly, watching his your tight pussy engulfs him so snuggly, how your breasts gently bounce as he moves his cock deeper into you— he was already addicted.

both your noises grow more consistent the longer you two go at it for, the heavy panting and the mattress creaking, the soft plap plap plap, the whispers and praises. his body stiffened as he felt his orgasm near, cock only hardening as he focused on chasing the sweet release he missed so much.

“you’re so good.” he whispers into your ear, tugging you as close as possible. you nod weakly and rake your hands through his ashy hair, tugging at the strands weakly. his tip smushes against your cervix and you whine into his ear, pleading for him to make you cum. he listens, reaching a down down for your clit, rubbing tight circles as you clamp down on him and cum all over his cock. he gasps meekly at the sensation of getting his dick even more wet, cumming himself.

his load is warm as he shoots it into you, his head immediately ducking for shelter in the crook of your neck. he clings onto you as he slowly comes down from the high of his orgasm, his body subtly trembling in your arms. you gently shush him, muttering small praises into his ear, rubbing your palm up and down his toned arms. your body is warm enough for him to fall sleepy. he nuzzled into you as he falls asleep, his thoughts drifting to mary. he snores softly.

[dreamingofmarauders]

𝐘𝐨𝐮!

𝘾𝙝𝙖𝙥𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝙊𝙣𝙚

James Potter x Fem!Slytherin!Reader

Next Part Series Masterlist

Summary: In which James Potter is beyond shocked to see you introduced as the newest Order member. After all, to him, you’re nothing but a cruel, cold, pureblooded Slytherin

Word Count: 1.2K

Warnings: House stereotyping/prejudice (I think that's it, if not, let me know please!)

A/N: The inspiration for this came while I was reading @ellecdc's Sirius Black x Reader series called Come Back, Be Here and it was such an amazing read! Go read it if you haven't already! <33

───※ ·❆· ※───

The Order of the Phoenix, a secret society founded by the Headmaster of Hogwarts, Albus Dumbledore, was gathered once again in another secret location. All the members were seated in their respective seats, looking at the Headmaster to begin speaking.

“Thank you all for coming on such short notice.” Dumbledore said, his voice bouncing off the walls, “I received a tip that revealed a death eater meeting is to take place tonight, not too far from Diagon Alley.” He said. “I will have to arrange a few members to be sent to scout out the meeting, but before that, I have an important announcement.”

Everyone in the room exchanged glances, a nervousness settling for what could be bad news to be revealed.

“I have recruited a new member, who has already proven what a great asset she will be to our team.”

“Who?” Sirius asked.

Albus Dumbledore gestured towards the door, “Come in.”

You strutted in, dressed in dark clothes with your wand twirling between your fingers as a smile sat upon your lips.

“You!”

And two sets of chairs screeched as two individual wands were directed at you.

“What are you doing here?!” James shouted, Sirius nodding as he backed his best mate.

“Charming. Quite a nice welcome you’ve all prepared for me, Headmaster?”

Dumbledore’s blue eyes twinkled as he directed his gaze from you to the pair of Black and Potter.

“Wands down, boys. Y/n L/n will henceforth be joining us from today.” He said, declaring it to the whole room.

“But, Professor!” James exclaimed, “Y/n’s a Slytherin!”

“Gee, thanks for noticing.”

James glared at you before he turned his eyes onto Dumbledore, his expression having turned into one of desperation. “You can’t possibly let her join!” He practically begged. “They’re all the same, the treacherous snakes can’t be trusted!”

Dumbledore opened his mouth to reply but you beat him to it.

“Well not everyone can be so dimwitted that they would end up in Gryffindor.” You said, making both James and Sirius scowl.

"We are very intelligent, thank you very much!" Sirius interjected, making you shoot a look in return that said are you really though?

“Plus," You continued "Not everyone is the same because even a lion could be a snake in disguise.”

James’ eyebrows furrowed together, “What do you mean to imply by that?”

You merely shrugged, earning a scoff from James.

“That’s enough now.” Professor McGonagall called out sternly, making both you and James fall quiet and take your seats.

“Now that we have exchanged small pleasantries,” James and you loudly scoffed, “Onto the mission. I will be sending out Remus Lupin, James Potter, Benjy Fenwick, Dorcas Meadowes and Y/n L/n.” Dumbledore gently smiled, “This tip was given by Y/n herself and this proves how much of a help Y/n’s addition to the Order will be.

A cry of protest sounded from the young Potter, “Headmaster! How can you believe her? For all we know, she could be sending us into a death trap!” James exclaimed, glaring at you, who stood up with a scoff.

“And that is the exact reason I am coming along! If something happens, I will be there too!”

“Nope! Not happening! Headmaster, I refuse to go if she goes!” James said.

“Mr. Potter,” McGonagall said, “Stop behaving so childish. Miss. L/n will be going and that is final.”

James grumbled and muttered, “Fine.” Knowing by now that Professor McGonagall could get real scary when she needed to be.

“Good, now get going.”

James glared your way to which you only smirked at him, irking the young Potter even more.

*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.*

The mission was partially successful as like the tip you had given, there was a death eater meeting. However, they sensed the presence of Order members too early and before you all could even cast a spell their way, they had gone.

Most of the Order had been kind and accepted you in, after all, if Dumbledore trusted you, what reason did they have not to? Well, everyone except for Sirius Black and James Potter. 

Especially James Potter.

He loathed you. Simple as that. Your mere existence irked him, like it has been since your shared days at Hogwarts. You always had a way that managed to annoy him, and he had been always determined to get under your skin every time he caught sight of you within the castle.

James wasn’t sure when it started but the interactions between the two of you had become frequent since fifth year. He despised you for being a Slytherin, after all you were just like the rest, acting as if you were superior. But it was also the way you winked at him or that teasing smile that crawled onto your lips. Or how you would speak in a playful tone, flicking your hair over your shoulder every time you walked away or how you twirled your wand teasingly between your nimble fingers.

It infuriated him.

Everything about you annoyed James Potter to no end.

Henceforth, why he was so against your arrival into the Order and how he was determined to get at you every chance he could get.

"Wow, L/n, I'm surprised you haven't melted yet." James said later one evening at an Order meeting.

You cocked an eyebrow at him, "Meaning?"

"Meaning my burning hatred towards you, I was expecting you to have skedaddled out of here."

You gave him a weird look, "Well, that genuinely made no sense, Potter. Now excuse me." You said, returning to your conversation with Remus.

James grumbled, turning towards his best mate, "Moony! Stop hanging out with her!"

Remus let out an exasperated sigh, "Listen, Prongs, I love having you as a friend, truly I do, but if you're going to keep this up, I won't hesitate to hex your arse off the planet."

James stared at his best friend, dumbfounded, while you doubled over laughing.

"Moony," James muttered out hollowly, "How could you? You're my best friend!" He accused Remus in an over dramatic manner.

"And Y/n is also a friend of mine."

This threw James off completely, "She's WHAT!?"

"A friend. She was nothing but polite to me throughout school and I have no reason to be rude to her."

You shot Remus a smile of gratitude before moving your gaze to James, eyes turning cold as you stood up.

"I love to annoy you, truly, but I find it unfair how you're always taking out what most of my house has done against me. Not everyone is the same. I'm not like them." You breathed out, your voice wavering near the end.

James suddenly felt a weird sensation wash over him and he watched you turn around and go.

"Mate," James looked at his friend, his attention snapping from you to Remus, "You don't need to be so mean to her. She has gone through a lot."

James scoffed loudly, "I doubt that."

Remus gave his friend an expression of what looked like pity and exasperation. He patted James on the shoulder before walking away. James stood there, lost within his own thoughts. He shook his head vigorously after a few seconds.

No, to him you were merely one of them. You were from a family of death eaters. You were from the house that turned out all the dark wizards. You were just one of them and nothing more. And he hated them all.

"I hate you." He whispered.

Although, James' perception about you would be challenged as the next Order mission would bring an unexpected twist.

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

A/N: Ok, so I had this idea of this one scene and I was planning on just a oneshot but instead I decided to go ahead and make a mini series, just so I can write more about James and Reader in this enemies to lovers sort of trope. I've never really written for James before, so I hope you all liked it and stay tuned for the next one because it's going to be good! Love you all and take care! <33

Love, Serina ❤

[splatashahowlett]

missing piece

logan (james) howlett x reader

the record player was playing One piece at a time, your favorite song, occasionally letting out a soft sound of scratching against the vinyl. the bar was crowded and everybody seemed to have a good time. the 70's may become your favorite decade. you've been alive for over a hundred years now but you liked everything about this era; the music, the clothes and the recklessness of it.

you were currently seated at the bar, drinking whatever the bartender had offered you. the guy had been hitting on you all evening, and you figured that free drinks couldn't hurt since your healing factor would keep you from getting drugged. you liked the attention anyway, your ex lover had disappeared on a random tuesday and never came back home. it had been four years since you had last seen him, you weren't mad at him anymore, but more at yourself for thinking a man could keep his promises. so some compliments were always welcomed.

you were watching people dance, the festive atmoshpere filling a void in your chest. whenever you felt alone you would go to a bar, or a pub just to feel something. in those places, time seemed to stop, you could be invisible. nobody cared about you or asked anything from you. sometimes you would dance with a random girl or guy and end up in their motel room just to sneak out the second they fell alseep. you were conscious that this lifestyle wasn't for everybody. in fact, you didn't enjoy it in the slightest. but you didn't have a choice. you didn't have any family anymore, and the only person that counted took off 4 years ago. you didn't work and your only hobby was drinking. you weren't living, but barely surviving. but with time you get used to it, right?

right as when you were about to get up to dance, someone sat next to you. too close for your liking. you turned your head and were met with a drunk looking guy, staring at you like you were some piece of meat. you gave him a look that meant "get the fuck out of here and leave me alone" but he didn't seem to want to comply.

"hello pretty girl, need some company?" he said, or at least that's what you understood. his breath hit your nose and you almost threw up; your heightened senses could really be a pain in the ass sometimes.

"go fuck yourself" you said, walking toward the back door. the guy following you.

"I think I'll need some help with that, my girl" he said, trying to catch up with you. you ignored him, or at least he thought so, and went through the back door, making sure he was still behind you. once you found yourself in a small alley, you grabbed him by the collar and pushed him brutally against the wall.

"I am not your girl" you threatened. the dickhead tried to answer but with your hands on his throat the task seemed more difficult than usual. you hated this petname, it reminded you of things you wanted to forget. you let go of him, letting him fall to the ground and kicked him in the stomach. that wasn't necessary but he deserved it.

you went back inside, planning on gathering your things and then finding a place to sleep. you folded your jacket on your arm and put your pack of cigarettes in your pocket. but as you turned toward the door, your heart stopped. a familiar face looking at you from the crowd. at first you thought you were hallucinating, the fucker was dead. you hoped he would be. it would hurt less. but when he started coming closer you scoffed.

you couldn't do it without a drink, so you sat back and asked for straight tequila. you missed this vanishing feeling the night procured you.

logan sat next to you and asked for a drink. you refused to look at him. you wanted to punch him in the face, alright maybe you were still a little mad at him. seeing him here, and so close to you made you mad. you wanted to kill and kiss him.

"I missed you" he said, looking afar. out of all the things he could have said you weren't expecting this. you scoffed and tightened your grip on your drink.

"shut your damn mouth" you gritted through your teeth, still holding onto your drink for dear life. you had imagined what it would be like to see him again and promised to yourself that you would tell him you moved on and leave him speechless. you never thought you still loved him so deeply. you hated how he made you feel, you hated feeling weak. but you loved everything else about him, and if feeling vulnerable was the price to pay to be with him then you wouldn't think twice about it.

"I didn't have a choice" he added, this made your blood boil. you knew he was telling the truth and you had already forgave him, you just needed to hear him say it. you didn't say anything, didn't ask about the reason of his departure. you kept your mouth shut, hoping he would take the hint and leave. no you didn't want him to leave, you wanted him to think that you wanted him to leave.

"I’m sorry” he muttered. this was your last straw, your glass broke between you fingers, shards of glass flying all over the counter and cutting into your hand. you jumped, startled at your own doing. logan reached for your hand immediately but you moved it away before he could even brush it.

"fuck you" was the last thing you said before running to the bathroom. your healing factor was already pushing the glass out of your flesh but it still hurt as hell.

“let me help you” you hadn’t even hear him coming in. you smiled, amused at the situation. you terribly wanted to give him your hand but your pride told you otherwise.

“why are you here?” you whispered, almost scared that if you spoke louder he would disappear.

“I told you, I miss you”.

“of course you do, that's why you came back so quickly” you said, washing the blood off your hand. “I just know you were bored to death without me" you joked, trying to ease the tension.

logan approached and slowly put his hands on your waist, your back facing him. he then delicately planted his chin on your shoulder. “I know you won’t believe me when I tell you I did this to protect you and that’s fair but I need you by my side, I need my girl” you swore you heard a sob in his voice. you looked up, staring at your reflection in the mirror, you could see logan’s head next to yours he was looking at you. this was the first time you’ve look into his eyes since he left. and they felt like home.

you turned around slowly, facing him. you hands claimed back their place on either side of his face. wiping his tears. seeing logan cry was rare, extremely rare. you felt your heart broke at the sight. he put his hands on yours and closed his eyes, enjoying how your touch felt like after so many years. nothing changed, not his love for you nor what he felt around you.

“let me take you home” he begged

“where?”

“doesn’t matter, home is whenever I’m with you”

you knew that your james was telling the truth, and you knew that you still loved each other.

"I need time, james" you answered, even if your mind was already made you had some self respect. you were about to say something else but logan beat you to it:

“I love you” he breathed.

you kissed him passionately, making up for all the lost kisses.

"I love you most"

you were still upset about what he did, but at the end of the day, you knew he did it for a good reason and that it hurt him maybe even more than it did you, and you certainly couldn’t imagine life without him.

you both cried into the kiss, silently promising to always be on each other's side.

"come on, let's get out of here"

[cvoq]

In Commemoration of Her

Synopsis ﹐ You and James Sunderland are at Lakeview Hotel, planning to stay the night when he unlocks a key memory.

content ﹐Rated R (MDNI), SPOILERS! darkfic, smut, angst, non-con, pwp, descriptive/smut sex, somno, grinding, fingering, squirting, rough sex, p n v sex, james sunderland x fem!reader

╰╮wc 3.3k

Mary was a bright, sweet woman. Illness plagued her body when she was young and died 3 years ago from what you’ve heard. Apparently this “Maria” looked exactly like her, but where was she? You’ve heard so much about Mary this Mary that, that you knew James really did love her; For that reason he and you are at their special place, hotel room 312 looking outside of the illuminated Toluca Lake.

“James,” The name rolls sweetly off your tongue admiring the lakeside view. “It’s beautiful here..”

The cool moonlight hits your skin, reflecting you off the window. You’re wearing a white frilly sundress with spaghetti straps. As soon as you came off of work a few days ago, you took a trip to West Virginia with your bags packed heading to the homey-tourist-attraction; Silent Hill.

James was seeing something completely different. You turned around getting a glimpse to check on him, he previously placed a cassette tape into the TV that the room provided but it was just static. He was engulfed in what he was watching though. You chose to let him be in his thoughts and focus on yours.

As you recall, many strange things have been occurring ever since you came. While following James around, a little girl by the name of Laura tagged along with the two of you. She too was fond of Mary, however not so much of you. All you could remember was the girl's words that she exchanged with you in private while at the bowling alley.

“–James would never replace Mary!” She exclaimed clearly upset, her eyes welled up with tears ready to spill.

“I’m his friend,” You reply quietly trying to give the young girl reassurance. You watch her hold back from crying, feeling guilty. “Nothing will happen between us, everything that I’m doing right now is for her.”

“Rea-lly?” Laura asked, stifling through her words, rubbing her eyes with her hands.

“Really”

If only that were true. You wonder to yourself what the hell you were doing alone with a man in a hotel room during the dark. You really can’t pretend that you weren’t attracted to James. Ever since you’ve met him at the gazebo after wandering in the town for what seemed like hours, you’ve become “travel” buddies.

You choose to snap out of it, turning your attention towards James. He was on the armchair, slouched forward. He looked as if all life had been erased from him. Melancholy, miserable, you felt the feeling emanate with the void of silence.

“James?” You call out, taking a step closer to him on his right side.

“Mary’s,” James muttered with a pause. You pay close attention to what he’s trying to say. “Mary’s gone.”

You stand in silence, watching as James takes time to reflect on himself. You follow his eyes to see that he’s looking at the bed behind him tucked away in the corner with the night lights, staring at the pillows. You knew and took account of how lost and unstable James came off to be, but it never occurred to you how severe it was.

You pressed your lips, speaking softly to him. “Is everything..-Are you doing alright there?”

He stayed still in the same position, still not responding. It pains you to receive silent treatment from him but all you can do is wait for him to open up.

“I killed her,” James tells her with a defeated voice. His head stayed down as he looked at the floor right in front of him, not bothering to look up at you.

Your eyes widen and you respond with nothing. Didn’t he love her? You try to reason that maybe James was imagining things from all the pent up guilt he must have felt, but it really did seem that yes. James killed his late wife.

You’ve never felt more convicted.

“I’m going to wash up..” You say after a minute of pure silence between the two of you and James nods in response. Hopefully a quick shower would drain away all your worries. You promptly leave to the bathroom, leaving James all alone by himself.

For almost an hour, you stood under the shower thinking to yourself. You continued with the regular routine of brushing your teeth, combing your hair, and putting on a fresh pair of clothes which you had thanks to hauling around your suitcase everywhere you went. You felt refreshed that you were in new clothes but felt a dawning sense of pressure and guilt still there. You’re also a bad person if you somehow still manage to like him, a murderer, after all he’s done right?

Finishing your alone time, you swing open the restroom door stepping outside of it. “The bathrooms free for use,” you spoke while looking around the room to spot for James. There he was, on the bed without a blanket on top of him, fast asleep.

James' shoes weren’t even off.. he still had his jacket on, he was knocked unconscious. You scurry to his side of the bed he was occupying. The last you could do was get his shoes off for being able to book a room for the two of you. So you take off both his black leather boots from his feet carefully, trying not to wake him up. After placing them down nearby his bedside you look at his military jacket.

You contemplate if you should change him out of it but you wonder if it would be considered overstepping. You furrow your brows with your eyes lingering in his state. When James slept, you came to notice how his face was definitely more relaxed. His hair fell out of the way he styled it and his crease on his forehead seemed to vanish. He glowed under the warm light of the lamp, but he was a stressed guy.

Sighing to yourself, you move your hands to clasp onto James' jacket. Although you had to maneuver his arms and had to tug a lot, you managed to get it off revealing his gray long sleeved shirt. You place the coat on the nightstand beside you and get ready to tuck him in the sheets when you notice something.

A bulge, a bulge in his jeans. Your face flushes, staring at it for quite some time. Who knows what would’ve happened if you tried to take his pants off? What’s surprising is the size of it. It looked as if it was uncomfortable resting there.. but you just quickly covered James in a blanket.

You wonder where to sleep. The couches only seated one person and the night was cold. Surely, if you slept on the right side of the bed it would be fine. So you chose to climb in the sheets, on the far side facing away from James.

After turning off the lamp, you try to close your eyes but that led to you thinking about what you just saw. You smothered your face into the pillows but can’t help feel your cheeks warm up. You know it’s wrong. James only has love for his wife and you should respect that, so you doze off to sleep.

You wake up in a daze, feeling something press up against you. There’s a weighted feeling lingering on your back. A pair of hands hold your waist and- Shit. Who was doing this?!

Your eyes open slowly to catch a glimpse of your situation. It was James, rutting into you.

He grinded into your ass pressing his hardon into you. Grunting softly into the crevice of your neck that you felt his scratchy stubble rub against you.

What was worse is that you were turned on by this. He was in such close proximity, you could feel the heat emitting off of him. You tightly press your legs together clenching your thighs for dear life, feeling something build up inside of you.

“James..-”

“Help me with this, please..” He begs breathily, pressing you tighter onto himself.

“Al..” You hesitate for a bit. “Alright.”

James reached for your chest, groping onto you. You can feel his rough hands through the fabric, much larger compared to yours. He’s pressing them and messaging them with his palms, running his fingers over your now hardened nipples as you jolt at the sensation.

“I’ve needed this,” He admits grudgingly, taking in your smell. You’re so clean, floral.. so different from him.

You don’t know whether to feel relieved or shameful.

By now your top is ridden up, so James takes his time to place his hands on your stomach to feel your bare skin. You feel so hot, it’s suffocating. His calloused hands slide further to reach your supple breasts. Having you hitch your breath. He takes his time toying with them, squeezing your buds in between his fingers in a firm manner.

“-You’re teasing me..” You manage to utter out, embarrassed.

“Just a few more minutes,” James mutters, still rubbing your skin.

He then moves his hand down into your pajama pants, trailing to your soppy cotton panties. Running a finger up and down your slip, sometimes visiting your clit. You try to suppress your reactions but you can’t help bucking your hips into him.

“You’re -wet there.” James remarks in a quiet tone. It came off as he was flustered or akward, maybe a mix of both. You felt your heat pulse from his words.

“..I want more,” Communicating to him sheepishly. Afraid of seeming whiny and demanding of doing too much while doing too little, you reach your hand back touching his clothed erection. Then pressed your hand on it, trying to feel his girth through his jeans. His warmth emanated off of it.

James groans in response, nodding his head in affirmation. He moved your undergarments to the side revealing your glistening folds, slick from it was still strung onto your panties like a string. He’d blush, admiring how messy you were and rubbed his fingers up and down your hot pussy.

He slid a finger in, watching as you suck it in. Wetness seeped out from you onto his hand as he watched your face contort. You really did put lube to shame..

James worked his way to getting two fingers inside you. You let out soft “ohs” and “ahs!” with a flushed face. Your body felt so hot but your core was even worse, it craved for more and latched onto his fingers as he tried to pull out. Filthy noises spilled from your pussy, embarrassing you from the wet sound you were producing.

He rubbed his pads on the walls of your soaked cunt, noticing you tense up around them as he’s preparing to slide a third finger into you. There James feels a spongy area, feeling it and pressing his fingers on the spot.

“James-!” You yelp, tossing your head up. You feel yourself gush from your pussy, not used to the unfamiliar feeling.

He clenched his jaw feeling himself throbbing with need. The way you said his name was so endearingly erotic. James' pants felt so tight that any friction he felt within his confines almost had him losing it.

You clench around his fingers, gripping his hand placed on your waist as you let out a whimper. However all James does is tighten your grip on you, pressing down on your stomach continuing to fingerfuck you. You bury your face into the pillows as you feel the need to urinate as pressure builds up.

James then stuck another finger in, thrusting in and out of you at a fast pace watching as you go slack in his arms and your hips wiggle trying to escape his grasp. Did you have to be this sexy?

“Auh-Shit!” You moan, coming undone.

Warm clear fluid expels from your cunt as your abdomen tenses up, arching your back like a cat. You're so tight, trying to keep James fingers in as you shudder through your organsm. All that pressure is gone as you begin to feel a tingling sensation across your body.

After a couple of seconds of rest, you hazily look down to see the sheets drenched by you. James looks at his pants, wondering what he just did to you seeing all your essence on him. You squirted.

It took a lot of self control for James to not end up cumming hands free. His dick is pulsating like crazy as he tries to not succumb to the cloud of lust impairing his decisions. It’s too late.

You feel the mattress and sheets shift as you try to come back to your senses as your eyes wander around the hotel room, you see him on top of you.

“I’m sorry, I can't—” James exhaled in a shaky voice while looking down at your body. “Can we.. for tonight..”

You kissed him boldly for the first time, pressing your lips against his somewhat chapped ones. James' eyes widened but he eventually closed his eyes just as you were doing. He relaxed, getting more comfortable with touching you by rubbing your thighs. When James had the chance, he prodded his tongue in your mouth. You and him shared spit and saliva as your wet tongues went back and forth with each other. Messy like a makeout session but more intimate.

You run your hands over his chest, pulling off for fresh air as a string of saliva connects both of your mouths.

“Please,” You plead in a needy tone, looking into James’ green eyes. You toss your soaked panties to the side, spreading your legs apart feeling your slick coat the insides of your thighs. “Take me..”

Quickly, James unzipped his pants, although fumbling and took his cock out from his boxers. James sighed at the feeling of the cold air, giving his dick a few strokes spreading the leaking beads of precum across his shaft.

God, it looked so pretty. All you could focus on was how lengthy it was. He was well groomed too. You’d clench around nothing thinking about that thing being inside you.

You watch as he rubs himself on you, coating him with your slick. You gasp at the feeling of friction whenever he hits your clit and couldn't come to ignore his little grunts of pleasure.

James slid into you, bullying his cock into you halfway. He’d sigh at the feeling of how tight you were around him. Wet walls encapsulating him as he’d groan at how much he’d missed this feeling. You however, felt the stretch as you gripped onto the sheets. Legs shakingly wrapped around his torso.

He continued to bottom out, forcing his way into you. Hearing the audible squelch that came from you and James from doing so. You hissed at sensation, feeling so filled up as you place an arm covering your eyes arching your back.

-And that’s when something happened.

As you were still adjusting to his size, he quickly pulled out and slammed into you.

James' rapid thrust did not stop. His balls hit you each time he went in and out. He was completely infatuated looking at your body, watching your breasts bounce everytime he did that. You easily accepted his cock because of how drenched your little pussy was. He treated you if you were a fleshlight, something to be taken out on.

“Wa-it-! Too -rough!” You wail, not used to the fast pace. Your hips couldn't keep up with the pace as they quivered, having yourself being pounded by this man. Was it supposed to sting this much?

He ignored your request, drinking up the site of you as he let out a suppressed moan. James watched as your expression grew on your face, showing how lewd you were. Gripping you by your waist he fucks yourself onto him as he plunges into you. More focused on the heat of the moment than the lasting consequences.

Skin slapping echoed off the walls of the room. You try to get a hold of yourself, but your body was reacting in different ways. Your sloppy cunt leaked out onto the messy bed sheets, dirtying the vicinity more. You felt your pelvis rub against his, which already got sticky from you. So many moans left your mouth, but you can’t help but wonder what was going on in James' mind for him to be treating you in this way with the little amount of thought you had left.

“Hah..—You’re -driving me crazy,” James’ exhaled in between grunts having a tighter hold on you. He leaned his head down to your chest and latched onto your nipples. Sucking hard onto your tit as if he was expecting you to lactate out of nowhere or something.

Your head rolled back into the pillows, getting so much stimulation as your body jolted from his assault. The way James treated you during sex was like a cheap hooker and you couldn’t help but feel disgusting for loving all of it. Your legs at this point were in the air and about to give up. You just needed more time to experience this, but based off the way there was buildup of pressure in your core, it wouldn’t last too long.

His saliva coated your chest as he managed to hit the same rigid point in your walls. You let out the most salacious sound as you bucked your hips into him, urging James to do it again. Everytime he managed to grind himself against that one spot you’d tense up and clench around him with your gummy walls. All this time he was holding off the urge to release right in you. You were too good for a guy like him.

James had to reciprocate in one way or the other, so he moved one of his hands from your waist, trailing down to your pelvic region. He got his hands lubricated in your hot slick, and began circling your bundle of nerves sending you ablaze. You tighten around him like a vice, feeling yourself gushing all over his cock. He managed to try and go as deep as he could go, as if he was trying to reach your stomach.

Pleasure hit him like a flood. Warm ropes of semen filled you as he groaned, waiting for his load to empty inside of you.

You feel the substance flow into you. Suddenly, realization hits you and began pressing your hands on his chest.

“-James’ pull-out!” You urged quickly, unsure if Plan-B was available around these parts of town. Even so, James wouldn’t budge off of you. He instead gave a few pumps, riding out his orgasm while rubbing your clit, coaxing you to your bliss in which you quickly followed.

“I’m-!” You sob with a hoarse voice. You held onto James’ shoulders for stability reaching your peak. All the buildup crashes down on you as a pulse is sent all the way from your spine, making you bend your back from the mattress. Milky fluid bubbles out of the seams around his cock. You almost get knocked out from how powerful it was. Crashing onto the sheets.

You both stay in silence, catching your expirated breaths trying to regain yourselves. You hear James heavy breathing as he rests on top of you, engulfing you in a hug.

Moonlight shunned through the windows, being the only source of light in the room. You couldn’t make out his face but he clung onto really hard. Your face went cold after the afterglow washed over. James just came inside of you.

You tried to get him off but he was too heavy, his grip increased more. Almost enough to bruise you. You felt warm splotches on your shirt, looking down at James, beginning to apprehend your situation.

“Mary..” He crooned, burying his face into your chest. “Mary..”

authors note ︵ ✦ Didn’t see that much works for Silent Hill 2 so I thought I’d contribute! Interpret the ending however you like, first fic! Once I get my AO3 account, I’ll probably post this..

[knapptapp]

Elevator- JamesPotter x GN!Reader

WC: 950

You are stuck in a muggle elevator with James Potter, Who wont stop flirting with you

Tags: Fluff, angst(?), Sarcastic reader, Slytherin reader, Flirty James Potter, Insecure reader

A/N: Wrote this from a prompt, trying to dip my toes into the Marauders fandom not a fully fleshed out fic or anything. A little experiment

“This might be a bad time to mention it, but I really like your perfume.”

“Oh shut up,” You said with a scowl as you once again pushed the emergency button.

Professor Corbyn had thought it a wonderful idea to assign the seventh year class a lengthy list of ‘muggle activities’ to complete. She had also thought up the brillant of idea of assigning partners randomly. Though you had your doubts about the “randomness”.

Still, it was a project worth a good chunk of your grade. As much as you wanted to, you couldn't blow it off. Which is how you ended up stuck in an elevator with James fucking Potter. James who thought your perfume was of utmost importance at the moment.

“No seriously, it's quite lovely.”

You ignored him and pressed the call button. A moment passed…..Nothing. Great, not even the phone was working.

“Where did you get it? From Diagon alley or-”

“Can you be useful for once?” You interrupted.

James pushed himself away from the wall he had been leaning on, “Can you apparate?”

“No.” You admitted begrudgingly. Getting your license was on your to do list, there just hadn't been enough time. You were really starting to regret not putting it up higher on your list. You fanned yourself with your hand.

“Someone will come for us eventually.” James said with a shrug. He seemed completely care free and not at all worried about the situation at hand.

“Yeah. If we don't die from heatstroke before then.” You settled against the wall opposite of him and slid down till you were seated. It was just a tad bit cooler down on the floor.

“I know how you could cool off.” James said with a smirk. Just in case you hadn't understood his comment, he lifted just the hem of his shirt to reveal a sliver of tanned skin. You quickly looked away, but not before you caught a glimpse of a dark trail of hair disappearing beneath the waistband of his jeans.

“Oh fuck off.”

James copied you and slid down to the floor. Instead of sitting with his legs tucked up to his chest like yours, he instead stretched them all the way out. The elevator was tiny and James’ legs were long, the sides of his red converse knocked against your thighs. Cloth shopping had been another part of the project.

“Have I told you your shoes are ugly?”

“Many times,” James responded unphased, “You just don't like them because they're red.”

“Horrible color.”

“I think you'd look really nice in red. Got one shade specifically in mind actually.”

“Yeah, no” You fidgeted with the fraying sleeve of your dark green jumper. House pride was taken very seriously in Hogwarts. Wearing gryffindor red was an act of betrayal.

“You would,” He insisted, “I even have a jumper that would look perfect on you! Says ‘Potter’ right across the back.”

“Careful now James, I might think you're hitting on me.”

“Did it take you this long to notice?”

You knocked his foot away with your palm. James allowed it before he returned it back to tapping against your thigh. He was such a tease. He had been on this since you two got assigned partners.

“Ha Ha very funny,” You replied dryly.

He tapped his foot rhythmically against your leg, you tried your best to ignore it. The elevator was completely silent. The music had cut off when the elevator had come to a sudden stop with a metallic screech. There was nothing but the sounds of James and your breathing.

Your whole body was on edge. You couldn't help but keep anticipating the worst. Any movement made you feel like the elevator would go crashing to the ground below, You were stuck on the seventh floor and you had heard one to many horror stories.

“I'm bored,” James said, “We should do something.”

“Like what?”

“Why don't we play a game of truth or dare?” suggested James.

“Truth or dare? Seriously?”

“What else do you have in mind?” he replied smugly.

“Fine, let's play.” you agreed reluctantly.

“Okay, I'll start. Truth or dare?” James challenged.

You sat for a moment, mulling over your choices. There weren't many dare options while stuck in an elevator, but everyone and their mothers knew James Potter was a master prankster. He could probably come up with something within a second. Hell, he probably already had fifty dares planned out. Better to play it safe then.

“Truth.”

“Okay..” James pretended to think for a moment, he stroked his chin and gazed up at the roof dramatically, “Why don't you like me?”

Oh. Straight into it. You looked away from him uncomfortably. The thing was, you didn't not like him. Honestly, it was the opposite. But you couldn't let him know that. You would never hear the end of it.

“I don't not like you…You're just loud…” You said carefully.

“I think i’m quite charming honestly,” James smirked.

“Yeah, you think that.” You said with an eye roll

“You don't think I am?” James tilted his head to the side, one loose curl fell in front of his eyes. God damn it. Yes, you wanted to say. I've thought that you are charming since fourth year. But of course, you don't say any of it.

“Not at all.”

“You're forgetting the rules of the game again.” He teased. He leaned forward, only a couple inches closer than before, but still all too close.

“I’m not lying.” You attempted to sound confident and self assured but you couldn't manage to bring your voice above a whisper.

The gods must have heard your prayers because the phone on the wall rang. James and you stared at each other for a moment. He finally pulled his eyes away from you and stood up to answer the phone. You and your feelings were safe for another day.

[bellewintersroe]

James ‘Moe’ Alley x nurse Jenny OC- Headcannons - Part 4.

This is where the headcannons get fun to write, there’s some smut at the end of these headcannons, so just beware of that. Part 5 will next probably explore some themes surrounding how Alley copes in their relationship at war. Plus he faces quite a lot of injuries meaning Jenny is constantly on edge. So stay tuned.

As I mentioned in the first part, Alley is a slightly more sensitive man the rest. He goes through a lot during the war, which only increases that, but before the war I think he’s very in tune with his emotions and therefore Jenny’s.

well he is after they’ve admitted their feelings. He thinks he’s a sucker for her, hopelessly in love after a month of being such good friends.

one day he decides to take it to the next level and hold her hand, she jumps because he kinda sneaks up on her and it’s so out of the blue and she’s snatching her hand away.

Alley looks like he’s see a mother fucking GHOST. But Jenny thankfully relaxes when she realises it’s just him. ‘Oh it’s you.’ She reaches out and holds his hand so casually again. ‘Sorry, James, I thought you were a stranger.’

He wants to hear her say his name all the time, it’s so attractive.

the confidence grows in her when they’re walking with their hands entwined, neither of them are sure what exactly is going on, but she’s so casual about it, he doesn’t have room to overthink it.

the next day she’d be swinging on his arm, hugging into his bicep as he’s smiling down to her, wondering if she realises how much he actually feels for her?

Alley deffo gets too drunk, and after plenty of singing and yelling, he stumbles to where she’s bunked, knocks on the door and wakes up all the neighbours just to admit he loves her.

He’s stood there, like a hopeless romantic, he’s got puppy eyes and he’s hiccuping, praying that he didn’t slur the words.

‘James how drunk are you? Come tell me this sober and maybe I’ll say the same back.’

you best believe he’s back as soon as he wakes up that morning, before training, before she’s left to the hospital- he walks her out, admitting his feelings almost the moment he sees her. He’s a little shy, so the eye contact isn’t all there.

Jenny would pounce into his arms, hugging him close and tells him she’s been waiting to hear that from him.

fml they’re both overjoyed and it’s so so cute.

the relationship starts off so fucking cute and innocent okay, their first kiss is so sweet and leaves the both of them smiling for the rest of the day.

I think the only thing that might put a little strain on them both is the threat of war. It’s a mere 8 weeks before they’re all shipped off and sometimes Jenny walks over to find Alley bouncing his leg and jaw tense.

‘Hey, you’re alright.’ She reminds, pressing a gentle kiss to his jaw. ‘We’ll be out there together. We all will.’

She’s so important for his stability, and he hopes she feels the same about him. I think she would be better about having harder conversations, she’s a natural talker, so it’s a little easier for her.

he more provides lots of hugs and cuddles, wrapping his arm around her waist and lifting her off the ground. He’s super tall and built up so it’s so easy for him.

I feel like there’d be a few occasions where men attempt to make moves on her?? Especially after a couple of drinks everybody gets a little handsy and excited.

whilst Alley is a gentle giant, the worried look on her face as she cowers away makes him feel violent. He storms over, shoving his body between hers and the man’s harassing her, he stares him tf down until he backs off, feeling the urge to spit at the guys feet.

Jenny would kiss him all over after that, he’d be all smiley and start blushing, I think he doesn’t have much of a temper, and when he does it’s easier to cool.

Things might start to get heated after this- if you know what I mean- Alley feels PANICKED that he’s going to perform badly but Jenny thinks he’s perfect.

He just wants it to be good for her, he gets all shy when she tries to pleasure him, I think he wants to be the first to go down on her and give her an orgasm.

he’s a little paranoid about his performance skills, but she’d be so reassuring and he’s sooo good, sorry but he is, he’s just all about giving her love, constantly checking up on her every time they get intimate.

ok so he deffo has the ability to go really rough, he’s got super good stamina and I feel like Jenny loves him to get carried away.

It’s just difficult at first because he loves her and he’s scared of hurting her, he’s significantly taller and stronger than she is. He doesn’t want to use that strength on her.

… She doesn’t mind.

I think it takes a while and some encouragement (dirty talk) and Alley’s letting loose.

He has such a proud smirk on his face hearing the moans he can elicit.

Listen I feel like he’d deffo be quite vocal, growling, grunting and groaning, he’s not afraid to get all up in her ear and moan. Such a turn on seriously.

the closer war impends on them the more their sex turns into love making, he’s wrapping Jenny tightly in his arms, needing to be as close as possible with his lover.

loves to hear his name being moaned.

might accidentally cum inside her once or twice when he gets carried away.

shits himself like 6 months after those occurrences and Jenny is like ‘Moe I’d be fully preggo by now, babe’.

‘are you pregnant?’ Asks her two days after he came the smallest bit inside of her. Like nonono this boy does need some educating on the female anatomy- I’m not talking about finding the clit, he’s already mastered that- but periods, pregnancy, yeah he’s clueless. It’s kinda cute actually.

[ellecdc]

The Ruined Apothecary

Remus Lupin x feisty fem!reader who reconnect after Hogwarts

CW: chronic pain, Remus uses a mobility aid, financial insecurity, fluff/banter

A/N: I think this was a request from @maladaptiveescapism like eons ago about feisty reader who runs into Remus prior to a full moon post Hogwarts and somehow knows what Remus needs unprompted

Remus hated shopping in Diagon Alley for a number of reasons.

One, he hated running into people from Hogwarts – and the chances of such happening were quite high due to how small the Wizarding community was.

Two, he never could keep track of who was aware of his status as a werewolf and who didn’t, and more importantly, who took issue with his status.

But what he hated most of all was coming to Diagon Alley this close to the full moon on account of the two aforementioned reasons.

Unfortunately, Remus had left it too late to restock his medicine and potions cabinet, and he was out of dittany, valerian root, and pain potions; all things he couldn’t find for himself in the muggle world, and though he knew his friends would be more than happy to run these errands for him, he was tired of relying on them.

So, he put on a beanie and his denim jacket, a pair of ratty old converse and grabbed the cane that Sirius had insisted Remus let him buy for him because “it has moons on it!” and hobbled through Diagon Alley towards the discount Apothecary he hoped wasn’t out of stock of the common post-moon essentials.

“Lupin?” He heard from behind him, causing him to groan internally. 

He could pretend he hadn’t heard them, though, there was still a way out of this.

“Oh, come now, I know you heard me.” He heard the voice again.

So much for that plan.

Remus reluctantly turned towards the voice, only to be accosted by the beautiful image you painted, standing in the middle of Diagon Alley looking exactly like you had at school, but somehow more beautiful.

Remus hated that.

“L/N?” He asked, raising a hand in hello. To Remus’ absolute horror, you began moving towards him.

“Wow, I rarely get to see you around these parts. I’d say that makes me sad, but you and your friends were never a welcome sight back at school.” You jested, looking Remus up and down.

It took everything in him not to try to hide from your piercing gaze.

“Oh, I’m sure you see James and Sirius around enough for the lot of us.”

You laughed at that – Remus wasn’t sure he’d ever heard you laugh; certainly not back in school, and certainly not on account of anything he had said.

“Well, it gets a little boring around these parts sometimes; your lot would help keep some of these tosser shopkeeps on their toes I reckon.” You spat, glaring menacingly at a particular elderly shopkeep - who was very clearly eavesdropping on your conversation - causing them to hastily re-enter their establishment.

“Soddin’ no good Gwendolyn.” You grumbled, still staring daggers towards the offending shop. Remus felt his cheeks flame when his laugh turned into a coughing fit on account of his ribs stretching in preparation for the moon. 

You looked him over once again with a perceptive gaze that made Remus feel like he was standing naked in the middle of Diagon Alley.

He’d had that dream once before; didn’t much care for it.

“Where’re you headed?” You asked then, appearing for all intents and purposes like you were making casual conversation, though Remus knew better. 

“Just running some errands.” He offered noncommittally, and some of that feisty witch he remembered from back in school made an appearance as you narrowed your eyes at him. 

“Really?” You sneered at him. “I rather thought you were here to work on your tan.”

Remus - the dumb sod - actually looked up at the sky as if wondering if that was a good enough excuse to go by, only to be met with the familiar overcast sky that the UK typically wore.

“What errands, Lupin?” You asked again, and some of that heat from your sarcasm seemed to dissipate from your tone as your gaze turned softer.

“The Apothecary.” Remus admitted, not having the energy nor the patience to lie to you.

Your face grew into a wide grin at that, and he once again tried to remember if he’d ever seen you smile before; certainly not at him.

“Well why didn’t you just say so? I own an Apothecary, you know?” 

And he did know which was why he’d never been before.

He’d never been before because the ingredients he’d procured and the frequency of which he procured them would give away his status to one who didn’t already know it. It was admittedly easier having some middle-aged shopkeep who didn’t know him - and thus didn’t give a thestrals arse about what Remus was - dispense his ingredients than someone who he went to school with.

The other reason he’d never been before was that he was quite certain he’d never be able to afford your prices.

But you were already walking away from him as if you were expecting him to follow.

“It was nice seeing you!” He tried to dismiss you as he turned to walk the other way. 

“Oh, I don’t think so, Lupin.” He heard you call as you turned back towards him. “My shop’s this way.” 

Remus let out a sigh as he stared you down defiantly. 

He didn’t want to go to your shop. He didn’t want you to know what ingredients he needed for the potions and medical care he required every month. He also didn’t want to have to ask you in the end if he could come back and pay for the rest of his tab on payday, nor did he want to empty his wallet in one shop.

But his hip was killing him, his fingers were gripping the handle of his cane painfully, and you were standing there staring at him with your eyes and your looks and your gorgeousness and fucking dammit. 

He’d have to stop by Gringotts on his way out and see if they provide lines of credit. 

Your shop was….absolutely nothing like he expected it to be.

Don’t get him wrong, it definitely looked like a Slytherin owned and operated it, what with its deep jewel-toned walls, dark stained wood shelves, desks, and furniture, and the low-hanging ceiling that saw various plants, dried arrangements, and… crystals? hanging from it. 

“What’s with that face, Lupin?” You asked him from behind the desk, alerting him to the fact that he was standing in the middle of your shop staring at the ceiling with a look of pure discombobulation. 

“Are those…crystals?” He asked as he made his way, albeit slowly, towards your counter. 

You looked up at the ceiling as if noticing them for the first time. “Ah, yes; those would be Pandora’s doing. Something about the wrackspurts or what not, I couldn’t tell you.” You explained flippantly. “She offers tea leaf readings on Saturday’s if you’re interested.”

Remus let out a snort at that, immediately horrified that he just belittled a service that your shop provided. “Oh! I, erm, I mean-”

“Relax, Lupin; I’ve not had my tea leaves read either.” You offered in monotone, looking up and offering him a smirk.

“Not big on divination, I take it?” He asked you then, watching as you set up parchments and twine along your workbench. 

“Not at all; but she was bad for business which was what I was looking for.” 

Remus felt his head tilt at that but you disappeared behind the curtain into a store room before he was able to comment on your word choice. 

Remus leaned heavily against the counter as he made himself busy watching what looked to be a bowtruckle climb through the vines and branches of an ancient looking tree that seemed to make up the majority of the shop's ceiling. 

You reappeared from the back room with an overflowing basket of ingredients, and far more supplies than Remus came here for.

“Oh! I, erm, I only came for dittany, valerian root, and pain potions today.” He offered awkwardly, trying to stand up straighter and wincing when his hip cracked audibly. 

You looked up at him then, clearly fighting off an expression that threatened to take over your face that would give away the fact that you thought Remus quite stupid for explaining, which Remus also noted was a new skill you acquired since your days in school.

“Right…” You offered awkwardly, looking back down at your basket. “I also added some moonseed, powdered moonstone, powdered silver, and some wiggenweld potions.” 

“Moonseed can be used as a salve for your sores, Remus.” Madame Pomfrey explained to him after graduation before he left Hogwarts for the last time. “Do keep some on you at all times, okay? And any ingredients that can be used in pain potions or calming draughts; powdered moonstone, valerian root, and for very deep werewolf injuries, please keep powdered silver on you as well.” He simply smiled at Madame Pomfrey before pecking a kiss to her cheek - his mum away from home and the witch who single handedly ensured Remus’ survival all these years - not bothering to admit to her that he’d likely never be able to afford these ingredients as a lycanthrope.

He didn’t even register that you seemed to know of his lycanthropy nor that you had packaged everything up for him in your parchments and twine, adding sprigs of fluxweed between the knot of twine - for decoration or practical use, Remus wasn’t sure - until you read his total out for him. 

“That’ll be three galleons and 25 knuts, please.” You said simply as you stared at him expectantly.

Three galleons?! The powdered silver should be almost five, alone. 

“That’s not enough.” He pressed quickly, causing one of your eyebrows to raise at him.

“It’s my shop, I get to charge what I feel.”

“I don’t need your charity, L/N.” He spat then, officially losing what little patience he had. Money had always been a sore spot for him, and this was exactly why he didn’t come to your Apothecary; a well-done by Sacred 28 witch like you wouldn’t understand.

“Lupin.” You chided harshly. “Since you’ve never bothered to frequent my shop before, you may not be aware that I had my business passed through the Ministry in partnership with St. Mungo’s as a sliding scale provider, meaning that I only have to charge people what they can afford to pay me. Aside from that, my family has more money than any of my potential future children’s children’s children will know what to do with, so I will tell you again: it is my shop, I get to charge what I feel.” 

Remus’ eyes flit back towards the ceiling without his consent to watch the bowtruckle twirl one of the hanging crystals and chatter happily as it watched the rainbow lights reflecting along the walls.

“Those would be Pandora’s…she offers tea leaf readings on Saturday’s; she was bad for business which was what I was looking for.”

“This was your father’s shop.” Remus concluded, watching your jaw tighten as you gave him a curt nod. “And you…did this?” Remus continued as he gestured to the store vaguely.

“Ruined it, yes.” You confirmed.

“Who said it was ruined?”

You hummed as you looked off into the distance recalling the names of people who said you had destroyed your family’s business. “My entire family, their peers, the business department at the Ministry, Professor Slughorn… the likes.”

You seemed surprised when you returned your gaze to Remus to find him smiling softly at you. 

“Why?” He whispered at you, causing you to smile what appeared to be bashfully. 

“I don’t need to profit off of someone else's struggles.” You said simply, no longer making eye contact with Remus and opting to bag the packages in front of you in order to have something to do with your hands. “I’m in a position to help, so…I feel like I should.”

Remus let out a hum of acknowledgment as he placed his three galleons and 25 knuts on the counter in front of you. 

“Or…” Remus started teasingly as he accepted the brown paper bag you had placed his packages in from your hand. “You’ve gone soft.”

Your face fell then as you stared him down challengingly, though Remus relished in the hint of a smile from your lips. “Get the hells out of my shop, Lupin.”

Remus laughed as he backed away from the counter, his bag and cane in one hand as he pointed at you. “No, no. You’ve made a terrible mistake, L/N. I will be haunting this shop frequently from now on.”

“Stay out of trouble, will you Lupin?” You called back to him as he made it to the door of the shop. 

“You know what? I don’t think I will. Thanks, dove! Next time I’ll stop by with James and Sirius!”

And he couldn’t help the beaming smile that took over his face as he heard your groan some profanity as the door slipped shut behind him. 

Oh yeah, he’d definitely be telling the boys that he found a new Apothecary, and that they should absolutely be investing their families money in it.

[a-small-safe-place]

Yandere Severus Snape x Potter!Reader

Severus didn't think much of you, even though you were friends with Lily. He actively tried to avoid you, considering you a Potter, and he harbored strong resentment towards your brother James and his group of friends. His infatuation with Lily left him entirely disinterested in your presence, as if your last name and older brother did nothing to change his opinion of you.

It was common knowledge that you and James were close; he played the role of a protective older brother, ensuring that nobody messed with his younger sibling. Anyone who dared to do so faced the wrath of James and the other Marauders. This was another significant reason why Severus chose to avoid you, fearing that getting close to you would make him an even bigger target for James, Sirius, Remus, and Peter.

Now, all of that feels like a distant memory. Lily and James are both gone, and you run a successful potions shop in Diagon Alley. Your shop boasts the best ingredients for purchase, and Severus has admired your work in potions. You do an excellent job, better than most, although Severus still considers himself a superior potion-maker.

While Severus once went out of his way to avoid you, circumstances have now led to consistent contact between the two of you. Every time he enters your shop, you greet him with a warm smile and inquire about how he's doing. He's surprised that someone so closely related to James Potter could be kind, but Severus understands that one's family doesn't determine their character.

On January 9th, you discreetly included a small cake in a protective case with a "Happy Birthday" message in the bag of items Severus was purchasing. Severus rarely enjoyed sweets, but it had been a long time since someone had made something for his birthday. He felt a flutter of excitement as he decided to taste the cake, finding it delicious. It was a simple, unadorned cake, something that might be served at a Muggle birthday party. Did you have feelings for Severus? Is that why you went out of your way to make him a cake? If it had been from anyone else Severus would be skeptical, but you two had a sound relationship even if it was strictly business.

As he pondered the implications and struggled with his own emotions. Severus couldn't possibly have feelings for you, he loved Lily. The cake, though, was so sweet, and it made him realize that Lily had never done something like that for him. The shameful blush on his cheeks revealed his inner turmoil. He couldn't betray Lily by developing feelings for you, especially after her passing.

Despite his reservations, you were undeniably kind, and Lily knew that. In fact, she had always wanted Severus to meet you, believing that you would become good friends. With James no longer a threat, there was no obligation for Severus to avoid you. Perhaps you could simply be friends.

As Severus spent more time with you, he found himself restlessly thinking about you. Lily's prediction proved true; you and Severus became good friends. He began to notice details about you that he had never cared to consider before. He diligently documented the information you shared with him in a dedicated journal. It may have seemed unusual to have an entire journal dedicated to one person, but Severus was never one to do things halfway. Your attentiveness motivated him to reciprocate in kind, though he aimed to do it even better.

However, the situation took a turn when you revealed that you had a partner. Severus felt his heart shatter at the news. He couldn't understand how you could betray him in this way, or more importantly, how you could betray Lily, who had sent you to him to ensure that neither of you would be alone anymore. There was only one option. Severus had to ensure that your partner would fall in love with someone else and he would have you to himself.

[jellyfishbeansontoast]

Oh shit, there's only one bed.

really couldn't think of a title but this made me giggle and it's basically the plot summary so enjoy lol. kind of enemies to lovers yay!!

pairing: Sirius x reader I don't believe I made any character descriptions so should be gn

word count: 937

It was almost the beginning of term and the group had decided to make a weekend out of purchasing new school supplies in Diagon Alley, minus Peter who’s parents had already bought his school supplies and disapproved of the immaturity of his friends. Which is ultimately how you've ended up wishing you'd never came, standing in a cramped room in the Leaky Cauldron with the one boy who seems to know just how to get on your nerves. Sirius Black.

It wasn't that you hated Sirius, but the boy knew every way to get under your skin and even after pleas from James and Remus to stop he wouldn't give it up. You'd only tagged along as Remus had begged you to come relentlessly, guilt tripping you shamelessly with how much he'd have to hear about quidditch otherwise.

“There's only one bed.” Sirius gawks after settling down his case.

“Astute observation, Black” you snap, to which he holds his hands up in mock surrender. You bury your head in your hands groaning.

“There is no way I'm getting in a bed with you.”

A momentary look of hurt flashes across your face, did he really find you that repulsive, before you manage to compose yourself “you're welcome to the floor.”

He looks disgustedly at the dirty floor, kicking up a cloud of dust like a petulant child “there is no way I'm sleeping on that.”

“Fine.” you cross your arms in a huff.

“Fine.” he says mirroring you.

You turn on your heel and march towards the bathroom, grabbing your pyjamas on the way. By the time you've brushed your teeth and changed Sirius is already in bed. You resign yourself to your fate and climb into your side of the bed, pulling the covers up to your chin. You aren't aware of how cold the room is until you can practically feel Sirius’ heat radiating off of him. You shrink further into the covers, defending your ears from the cold. Behind you Sirius makes a strangled sound, somewhere between a laugh and a groan. You roll around instantly to face him, eyebrows raised.

“What.” you demand.

“It's just-” he sighs “Fuck it, come here.”

“What!” you repeat, questioning if you heard him correctly.

“You're cold, I'm not.” he shrugs like he's just told you a simple fact. He grips your arms and slides you towards him, wrapping his arms around you. Your face is nestled in his chest and despite the situation you can't help but feel relieved at the warmth that envelopes your body. “See?” 

His curls tickle your forehead and you're thankful that he can't see your face for the smile you're trying to contain. You can't help the laugh that escapes as you think about how funny it is that thirty minutes ago you were arguing about sharing a bed and now you're pressed flush against his chest. It's his turn to be confused now, “What are you laughing at?”

“This just isn't the behaviour of someone who hates me.” you retort.

“I don't hate you” 

“You literally asked Remus why he was friends with me” he's looking sheepish now, pulling away from you slightly so he can see you.

“I didn't mean it like that”

“How can you possibly have meant it Sirius?” the bite is back in your voice, guarding your feelings from what he has to say.

His fingers are on your chin, tilting your head up to look at him “making sure he didn't have any ulterior motives”

“Be serious-”

“I am Sirius” there's a cheeky grin on his face at the old age joke. You glare at him and he continues “I had to make sure Moony didn't have feelings for you, because I do.”

“You have feelings for me?”

“Come on don't make me say it again”

“What if I want you to say it again”

Instead he leans down and presses his lips to yours, his hands moving to hold the back of your head. “Did that say it enough?”

“Maybe if you tried one more time it might” you tease. Sirius is quick to appease you, this time you're more prepared and able to reciprocate the kiss properly, your hands curling into the front of his t-shirt.

“Understand now?” he asks.

“I think so” you respond, nestling your head under his chin, eyes fluttering shut.

“Will you go on a date with me?”

You only hum in response, Sirius only choosing not to be offended when he hears your breathing slow. He smiles at your sleeping form before wrapping his arms supportively around your back and letting himself also give in to sleep. 

-

“Do you think they've killed each other?” a low murmur voices from the other side of the door. 

“I hope not I wanted to borrow that quidditch magazine Sirius was reading yesterday” 

“I can't believe you're thinking about quidditch this early”

Despite Remus’ best efforts to keep James quiet the conversation is still enough to wake Sirius. He opens his eyes groggily and mentally curses the boys for being so loud. Flinging an arm out behind him he scrambles for his wand, which is somewhere on the nightstand, before unlocking the door. “I haven't been murdered.” he calls, voice still thick with sleep. 

James and Remus enter the room, mouths hanging open at the sight. “Is that-?” they both ask unison.

Their shock is enough to rouse you but you only bury yourself further into Sirius, groaning when the sunlight hits your eyes.

“If we knew this would happen we would've done it sooner.” James mutters before being elbowed in the ribs by Remus.

[petitemistletoe]

Mamma Mia

Pairing: James Potter x Reader, Sirius Black x Reader, Remus Lupin x Reader

Warnings: smut!

Word Count: 4.2K+

A/N: Basically Marauders Mamma Mia

Massachusetts

“I’m going to find myself,” you said, examining the items in your trunk before nodding and slamming it shut.

“That’s not a proper response to the question ‘where are you going?’” Your cousin, Lily, was lying on her stomach on your bed, thumbing through the latest edition of a British newspaper. 

“Yeah,” Mary said with a shrug of her shoulders, popping another piece of your maple candy in her mouth.

“Don’t eat all the sweets!” Marlene said with an indignant huff, handing you her remember-ball. 

“Thanks Marls,” you said, popping open your trunk again and wrapping the ball in one of your sweaters. 

“What kind of sweet is this again?” Lily asked, leaning over and grabbing a piece of maple candy from the box in Mary’s arms. 

“It’s maple candy. They make it up in Vermont.” You said with a shrug. Your trio of British friends always appreciated your American candies. Lily had introduced you all during a summer excursion and the girls had decided to move to America to attend a post-graduate certification program at your alma mater, Ilvermorny alongside you. You had finished a year ahead of the other girls since you were able to combine your NEWTs with introductory courses to the program. You had been living in an apartment, you insisted to the girls that it was an apartment not a flat, with the girls for over a year. You thought about entering the workforce after graduating, but you decided that you wanted to take a three month long trip to ‘find yourself’. 

“Are we close to Vermont?” Mary asked. 

“Yeah, it’s right above us.” You nodded, drumming your fingers on your chin. 

“What are you thinking about?” Marlene looked up at you. 

“Do you think I’ll be able to find a place in the train station to exchange my dragots for gallons?” You hummed. 

“Galleons, love, and no. You’ll have to go to Diagon Alley. It’s in London, not too far from the station. I’ll draw you a map.” Lily said, summoning a piece of parchment. 

“No Lily,” you held your hand up, “that defeats the whole purpose of what I’m doing. I’m going to travel across a few countries in Europe and find my way myself.” You shut your trunk again and nodded. 

“Is it time?” Mary asked, setting down the candies. 

“Okay,” you said with a sad smile, “no tears! It’s only three months! I’ll be back at the end of the summer.” The girls are wrapped their arms around you, hugging you tightly and placing kisses on the top of your head. 

“Good luck, darling.” Lily smiled. 

“Be safe!” Marlene called. 

“Have lots of hot sex!” Mary laughed. You laughed and gave a small wave before taking a deep breath and apparating to the center of London. 

London

It was the middle of June in London. You had packed dresses, and skirts, and shorts, and tank tops, and tops that barely covered your midriff. But it was the middle of June in London, so it was pouring rain and it was very chilly. Within a few minutes of you being outside, you were soaking wet. You were wiping the rain from your eyes and scanning for somewhere to duck into when you saw a sign that said: The Leaky Cauldron. Somewhere, in the deep recesses of your mind, you could vaguely remember Mary mentioning something about having a pasty and a pint at the Leaky Cauldron. You never could remember what the hell a pasty was, but you figured any magical place with beer was a good place to start.

You ran into the bar and seemed to attract the attention of everyone inside. You sent everyone a small smile before taking a few wet, sopping footsteps to the bar and pulling yourself onto a barstool, your trunk at your feet. 

“What can I get ya, love?” The bartender asked, quirking an eyebrow at your appearance.

“I know I must look kinda crazy,” you said, raking a hand through your wet hair, “this is my first time in London. I wasn’t prepared for rain.”

“Happens to the best of us,” the bartender shrugged, “fancy a pint to warm up?”

“Sounds good. I’ve heard Guinness is popular here.”

“It is. A pint of that then?”

“Yes thank you! Oh, I heard that you might be able to change my American money.” You said, digging around in your wallet. 

“Sure. You have one of those green dollar bills?” The bartender asked. You placed a dragot on the table. 

“Can you change that for a galleon?” You asked. The bartender released a huff of respect. 

“An American witch? Welcome to Diagon Alley.” He winked and you suddenly became far more aware of the other witches, wizards, and magical folk in the bar. “We have rooms upstairs. Fancy to stay a night or two? We can send your bags up and you can warm up by the fire with a nice glass of firewhiskey.” 

“Thanks. I’ll meet you over by the hearth then.” You said with a wink, taking a moment to wave your wand and dry yourself before snuggling into a chair with a thick blanket. The bartender floated over your drink and you held it up to him in thanks before taking a large sip. You thumbed through a volume of Quidditch through the Ages that had been lying on an empty table. Quidditch had always fascinated you. It wasn’t very common in the states, Quadpot being the more popular sport. 

“You are reading my absolute favorite book in the world.” A man said, sitting on the plush seat in front of you. 

“Oh is it?” You asked, setting your book down and taking in the sight of the man in front of you. Although Mary had been a little crass, you had every intention of riding around Europe…and you weren’t only talking about the trains. Your first candidate was an incredibly promising one to boot, he was tall, with messy dark hair, warm brown eyes, and a pair of round glasses. 

“You really have no idea who I am, do you?” The boy gestured to the bartender for another firewhiskey. 

“Am I supposed to?” You asked with an easy chuckle. The boy leaned in close and flashed you a smile. 

“I’m kind of a big deal.”

“What makes you such a big deal?” 

“I’m the chaser for the Ballycastle Bats.” The boy looked at you expectantly, waiting for you to swoon. But you didn’t. 

“Oh!” It hit you, “Oh! That’s a quidditch position! Right?” You thumbed through your book until you found the page that described all the positions. 

“You really don’t know anything about quidditch?” The boy quirked an eyebrow. 

“I’m American,” you shrugged, “I’m more of a quadpot girl.”

“Well, Miss America,” the boy leaned in closer so his nose was practically touching yours, “I’m James, consider me your guide to Diagon Alley for the foreseeable future.”

“James, I have a question for you.” You said, tucking one of James’s unruly dark locks behind his ear. 

“Anything love,” James’s voice sounded breathy.

“Do quidditch players fuck better than quadpot players?” You said with a grin. James nodded and matched your smile. 

“Why don’t we find out.”

You realized at some point later that James had never paid for his drink but you really didn’t care because James had taken you up to your hotel room and was deep inside you while rubbing your clit. You were on your back, his face close to yours as your right hand rested on his sharp jawline and your left hand was gripping his bicep. You didn’t cast a silencing spell and you were sure the other patrons of the Leaky Cauldron were cursing your name because you were screaming so loud. The firewhiskey was a warm blanket across your skin and your cheeks were hot as James pounded into mercilessly. 

“Godric, you’re so fucking hot.” James said, his glasses foggy and his hair sticking to his forehead. 

“Keep rubbing my clit,” you moaned as you jacked your leg higher and James was able to hit a deeper angle inside you. James connected his lips with yours and you moaned loudly into his mouth as you came. You squeezed tightly around him and James came a little after, burying his head in the crook of your neck and whimpering as he came, hot white ribbons inside you. 

The two of you talked for hours after, he tried to explain the rules of Quidditch to you and you would just laugh. James made good on his promise, too, he gave you a tour of Diagon Alley and wizard London before you apparated up to Scotland. 

The Scottish Highlands

The girls told you all about the quaint village next to their school in the highlands. You spent your days traveling the highlands, sitting in sweet cafes with a scone and a mug of milky tea, reading on a boat on Loch Ness, and visiting all the historic and gorgeous castles. You were going to spend your final day in Hogsmeade before making your way to your next destination. You spent the day wandering Hogsmeade, dipping in and out of sweet shops, joke shops, and little book stores. You settled yourself in a pub called the Three Broomsticks and sipped on a hot butterbeer while reading a book that you had found at Tomes and Scrolls: The New Edition of the Patronus Spellbook. 

“That’s a great book you’re reading,” a voice said, disrupting you from your thoughts. You rolled your eyes. Did all British wizards use the same pick up lines?

“Oh really?” You were sort of tired after all the days of apparating around Scotland and wanted a quiet night in the corner of the pub. 

“Yes. It’s one of my favorites.” The stranger said, sitting next to you. You looked up at him finally and took him in. He was tall, skinny, with thin light scars on his face and hands. He was wearing a knitted sweater and a very worn in pair of trousers. 

“Why’s that?” You asked, still uninterested. 

“I wrote the forward.” He said with an easy shrug, “Remus Lupin. Nice to meet you.” 

“Oh wow,” you were interested now, “it’s a pleasure.”

“I didn’t mean to disturb your reading, I was just a bit excited. The new edition came out yesterday, I was just nipping to the shops to purchase a copy for myself and have a drink to celebrate.” 

“So Remus, do you do other things besides writing forewords?” You asked, asking for another drink from the barkeep for Remus.

“Ah thank you,” Remus accepted the pint and took a long sip, “I am a professor at Hogwarts, I teach Defense Against the Dark Arts.”

“Oh, so you’re Professor Lupin then, aren’t you?” You said, leaning in. Remus looked down at you and gave you a wolffish grin. 

“That I am.” 

You had many, many more drinks with Remus as he told you all about his first few years of working as a professor and the various difficulties that came with it. He talked all about his new patronus research until patronus didn’t sound like a real word anymore. 

“I have a confession for you, Professor.” You said, a goofy smile on your face.

“Anything love.” Remus rested his hand on your thigh. 

“I have a fantasy,” you said, leaning in so your nose was practically touching his, “about fucking a professor in his office.”

You and Remus stumbled back on the path that lead from the village to the school. It was a gorgeous, gargantuan castle that was unlike anything you had ever seen before. You made a mental note to tease your cousin about her downplaying her school. He had a gorgeous office, with high ceilings, books and bars of chocolate strewn about various tables. There was a large wardrobe and about three cups of discarded tea resting on a nearby trunk.

“This is a gorgeous office,” you said, sitting on the corner of one of the large trunks. Your fingers ran over a long skeleton candle that rested on his desk. 

“Thank you,” Remus said, setting his book down and standing so his body was between your legs, “can I get you a cup of tea?”

“You could get me something else,” you pulled Remus down by the collar of his sweater until his face was level with yours and you kissed him hard. He kissed you back, pulling at the hem of your shirt until it was up and over your head. You stood and had to extend your neck all the way to account for the distance between you and him. His large hands went down to cup your breasts, gently. You realized that his hands were shaking. You pulled back and gave Remus a small smile. 

“We don’t have to,” you said, softly, “if you don’t want to.”

“No,” Remus said with a light shake of his head, “I do want to. I’m just a bit nervous. You’re so beautiful.”

“Oh Professor Lupin,” you said, pressing a sweet kiss to his lips, “you are quite a charmer.”

Remus lifted your head with his finger and kissed you again. You helped him out of his sweater this time and saw the long, thin pale scars that traced around his chest like the ones on his face. You kissed along Remus’s jawline and down his neck to his chest. Remus threw his head back and exhaled a soft moan. 

You kissed down Remus’s chest until your nose bumped against his belt buckle. He looked down and you and gave you a small nod. You unbuckled his belt and kissed up and down his length. Remus released a strangled moan and you placed a bit of pressure on his balls. 

“You can be loud for me,” you said before taking a deep breath and taking as much of him as you could into your mouth. 

“Oh fuck,” Remus gasped, gripping the edge of his desk. You continued blowing him until Remus’s breathing picked up and you pulled off. Remus whimpered softly and looked at you as you stood and slipped out of your own pants. You moved Remus so he was standing over you while you had your back to the desk and you hoisted yourself on, spreading your legs wide and dropping your panties to the floor. 

“Come on Professor Lupin,” you said with a smile, “dive right in.” 

Remus grabbed you by the waist and spun you around, pushing your front into the desk harshly. You felt him rubbing the head of his cock against your folds before pushing in deeply. You moaned and grasped for purchase on the desk. Remus’s fingers dug into your hips as he snapped his hips against you, again and again and again. 

His lips attached themselves to your neck and one of his large hands left your hip to grasp harshly at your tit. 

“Rub your clit,” he rasped. You started rubbing your clit rapidly, your moans jumping off the cavernous walls. Remus came and you came after moaning and sweating. Remus stayed inside you, resting his head against your shoulder. 

Remus left for a moment to nip to the toilets and you tried to apparate out of his office and back to your room in Hogsmeade but couldn’t. You didn’t feel that drunk, why couldn’t you apparate?

“You can’t apparate inside Hogwarts, so stop trying. You look like you’re going to pop a blood vessel.” Remus said, walking back in and holding a bar of chocolate out to you. 

“Thanks,” you took a bite from the chocolate and smiled at Remus. He walked you back to Hogsmeade and left you standing in front of your tavern with a lingering kiss and a bar of chocolate. 

Paris 

Everyone had always talked about dirty Paris was and you had honestly considered cutting it from your program altogether. Sitting on Rue Victor Hugo at a cafe with a croissant and the deepest, creamiest hot chocolate you had ever tasted as you took in the sights and sounds of the French capital, you were very happy that you decided to keep Paris on your list. You were even happier to watch the various European men make their way to and from work and pass by the cafe in their tailored suits, finely pressed trousers, smart sweaters, and loafers. You looked around you for a moment before snapping your fingers to light your joint. You waved your hand a second time to disguise your joint as a cigarette-a trick you had learned from one of your friends at Ilvermorny.  Lily would have had a cow had she known that you were smoking weed in public, but she what she didn’t know wouldn’t hurt her.

“Une autre chocolat chaud s’il vous plait,” another hot chocolate please you gestured at the waitress. She came around with a fresh cup and you set your sights on a very attractive man who looked a bit out of place. He had rode up on a motorcycle and took his helmet off, securing it to the bike. His ran a slender, ring covered hand through his long dark and shook his head as he got off the bike. He was wearing an expensive looking leather jacket with a thin dark t-shirt underneath, a pair of distressed looking jeans, and a pair of Doc Martens. He took his jacket off to reveal thin, winding tattoos on his arms and chest. You hoped he would cross the street and take one of the seats at the cafe. He was digging around in his jean pockets for a cigarette when another boy turned the corner onto the street of the cafe. The other boy looked quite a bit like the motorcycle boy but…cleaner. He was wearing a tailored pair of trousers, a crisp white button down, and a smart jacket. His dark curls were nicely styled and his thin, long fingers gestured down quickly so the cigarette between the motorcycle boy’s fingers fell to the ground. One of the second boy’s crisp loafers stamped on the cigarette and he pursed his lips. 

“Sirius, what are you doing?” The second boy shook his head.

“Shove off Reg,” motorcycle boy, Sirius, said, raking a hand through his hair. 

“Don’t call me that. My name is Regulus, you know that. You can’t keep running, Sirius. It isn’t sustainable.” Regulus looked at Sirius with an expression of pity.

“I just…I don’t care about it, Reg. I don’t care about any of it. You’re better at this anyway. You can deal with all that family stuff better than I can. Just let me grab a coffee and a cigarette and I’ll see you later.” Sirius did not wait for Regulus to respond. He marched across the street to the cafe you were at and you had to force yourself to pretend you were very interested in your menu. Regulus sighed and threw his hands in the air before coming back the way he came. 

“Madame, un cafe. Merci.” Ma’am, a coffee. Thanks. Sirius barked at the waitress. 

“Oui Monsieur.” Yes sir. The waitress responded, rolling her eyes. 

“Do you always eavesdrop?” Sirius asked, taking a seat at the table next to yours. 

“Sorry,” you shrugged, “you and that other guy put on quite a show.”

“Oh my brother Regulus? Yes we’re quite the pair.” Sirius rolled his eyes as the waitress set down his coffee. He took a sip and then paused. 

“Something wrong with your coffee?” You asked.

“You’re smoking weed.” He said, sniffing in your direction. 

“How do you know that?” You asked. 

“You’re a witch, aren’t you.” Sirius grinned at you.

“So you must be a wizard then.” You laughed. 

“You have to teach me that trick,” Sirius moved his chair so it was close to yours. You ran your tongue the bottoms of your front teeth.

“I bet I could teach you a lot.” 

Turns out that Sirius got off on pissing off his family so in hindsight it wasn’t all that surprising that he took you back to his family’s chateau in the middle of the afternoon. They were gone, out, at some event but Sirius pulled you to the middle of the drawing room in front of a roaring fireplace. You sat down on the rug and took in the warmth and glow of the fire. 

“So you’re a rich boy, then?” You said teasingly as Sirius pulled off his shirt and laid down in front of the fireplace with you. 

“Filthy rich,” Sirius responded, pulling you close to him and connecting his lips with yours. You did not break apart as he laid you down in front of the fire, pulling off your clothes with an animalistic intensity. Sirius was devouring you, his teeth and tongue all over your face, neck, and tits. He barely prepared you at all, just pushing in without warning. Your nails pressed into his shoulder blades as you looked at him, ready to snap about his hasty action when his thumb began rubbing hard on your clit. You had your legs wrapped around him as you were biting his collarbone to keep from moaning. 

Sirius pulled out of you and flipped you over so you were on top and he turned you so you were facing away from him. 

“Get loud baby. Use me,” he said, his hands planted firmly on your hips as you sunk down on him. You were moaning intensely as you moved up and down, the new position providing a new angle for you. You came hard, your fingers searching for purchase on the rug as Sirius fucked you through your orgasm. 

“Are you close?” You turned back to look at Sirius. He looked gorgeous, his sweaty curls plastered in his forehead and his hands heavy on your waist, a look of concentration in his eyes. 

“Uh, not yet.” He barked out, a vein popping in his forehead. 

“Spread your legs a little further,” You said, pushing at Sirius’s ankles. He did what you said and you sucked on your finger for a moment before pushing it between his cheeks and into his asshole. Sirius was moaning loudly now. It sounded like a name or something, he was moaning “Moony” over and over again. He was so loud that you didn’t hear the door open and notice people entering the house until Sirius was cumming intensely inside you as Regulus and a woman who could have only been Sirius’s mother were glaring down at you. You gathered your clothes quickly and apparated out before Sirius had finished lighting his cigarette. 

Massachusetts 

You were exhausted and thoroughly ready to sleep in your own bed by the time you arrived back home. You threw your trunk by the front door and called out, 

“I’m back witches!” 

Lily, Marlene, and Mary swarmed you, peppering you with hugs and kisses and beginning to hear all about your travels and see the souvenirs you brought back for them. You filled them in and by the time you were talking about your escapades with the athlete, the professor, and the heir, you were even more ready for bed. 

“Well have a good night darling. Also I’m so sorry but I used the last tampon a few hours ago, I’m going to nip to the shops in the morning,” Mary said. 

“Leave it to Mary to use the last period product in this house knowing full well that we’ve all been synced for the past few years.” Marlene playfully tossed a pillow at Mary. 

“Wait,” something dropped in your stomach, “you’re all on your period? Right now?” 

“Yeah, started two days ago. Why? You haven’t started yours?” Lily asked. 

“No. No I haven’t.” You started chewing your lip, “Anyone have a pregnancy test?”

“In the last drawer of the bathroom,” Mary pointed out as you shot up out of your seat to take the test. Your leg bounced anxiously as you waited to see the results of the test.

“Okay love, I’m sure your period is just all messy from traveling and-oh my…” Lily’s jaw dropped as she looked at your positive test,

“Who’s the father?” Marlene asked. 

“I…uh…I have no idea.” You said as you thought back to the athlete, the professor, and the heir.