#Remus likes to eat paint

[novvabee]

Just imagine poly!marauders x reader who decides to go on a holiday trip together but when they arrive there is the classic one-bed-trope (or maybe two and they argue on who gets to share the bed with reader) and she’s all shy bc even though they live together she never spent a night with them in the same room, specially on the same bed!

(Btw, are you planning on getting them together?)

hehehe soooo... I am planning on it, but for right now I live for the pining and the wholesome moments without them being together. anyways here is part 9.

And They Were Roommates pt.9

Summary:reader and the boys go on a trip, one bed trope, it's cute

word count: 1.9k

You and the boys decided to go on a little weekend getaway. You all decided to go to some classic touristy spots like the zoo and aquarium, which the boys definitely loved, and a history museum, which for some reason really fascinated James and Sirius, they stopped at nearly every attraction and stared in awe, especially when it came to the dinosaur fossils. 

You chalked it up to them being typical boys and found it almost comical, they acted like they had never seen some of the stuff.

After a long day filled with fun, you were in need of a rest. Luckily, you and the boys had rented rooms at a hotel nearby, knowing that it would be too far a journey to go back home at the end of the day.

After a quick bite to eat at a cute little cafe, you and the boys made your way to the hotel. It was a short journey, just up the road from where you had been spending the whole day.

“I just don’t understand,” Sirius said while walking to the hotel, “Those paintings, they were pretty, but why were they in a museum? They didn’t even move.” 

You laughed and continued walking. “Of course they don’t move Siri, they’re paintings.” you replied. 

Sirius opened his mouth, looking like he was going to question you, but Remus nudged him and shook his head at Sirius, halting him from asking any more silly questions. 

You reached the lobby of the regal hotel you were to stay at. Remus told the three of you to wait, that he would check in and grab the keys. You hung back with Sirius and James and talked about all the fun animals you saw. James was recalling a particular shark that he liked when Remus returned to the group.

“Uh, small problem,” He started, making the three of you turn your attention to him, “There's been a mix up with the rooms.”

You furrowed your brows, what kind of mix up could there possibly be? You thought you booked everything correctly. “What do you mean ‘mix up’?” you asked.

Remus sighed. “Well uh, instead of two rooms with two beds each, there’s two rooms with one bed.”

“Oh,” you said. “That’s not a problem, we can share, right?” you looked at the other boys. They nodded in agreement.

“Ok, how do we want to split the rooms then?” Remus asked.

“I’ll go with Y/N.” James said in a rush.

Sirius looked at him and scoffed. “That is like calling dibs on someone, you can't-”

“I didn't call dibs on her, I just said-”James interrupted. They began talking over each other.

“-Look, personally, I think it’s just unfair if-”

“-shut up Sirius”

“James kicks in his sleep.” Sirius turned to comment to you.

“Do not!” James defended himself

“Yes you do! Tell that to all the bruises I have acquired over the years!” Sirius shot back at him.

“Maybe I kick because you toss and turn constantly-” James was interrupted again, this time by Remus.

“Boys,” he said calmly, having had to break up these types of arguments many times, “How about we let Y/N decide who she wants to room with, yeah?”

With that, all the attention was now directed at you. “Oh. I don’t mind, I can share with whoever,” you said, not wanting to hurt anyone’s feelings by picking one person over the other two. 

Remus sighed and turned to the other two boys. He muttered something to them and they all agreed by nodding, then broke into a game of stick and stones. This made you giggle, so incredibly childish of them, but so incredibly amusing to you. You thought for a moment that maybe they were playing to see who would be stuck with you, that maybe none of them actually wanted to share a bed with you. But this theory of yours was proven wrong when Remus was eliminated and swore at the other two. You giggled again.

James and Sirius continued until Sirius groaned and threw his head back, James laughing in victory. He swung an arm around you and said, “Looks like you’re stuck with me tonight, love.” James grabbed one room key from Remus, and started to lead you two to your room. 

Before you made it very far, Sirius whispered to you “I’m not joking he kicks.”

You smiled and bid Remus and Sirius goodnight before making your way to your room.

James, always the gentleman, carried your bag for you and opened the door for you when you reached the correct room. You shuffled in and took a look around. The room was quite big and luxurious. 

The bed was king sized, so you were a little more relieved. You walked in and plopped yourself right in the middle of it. James set your bag down and looked around the room as well. 

“Oh uh, I can sleep on the floor or something by the way. I’m sure there’s extra pillows and blankets in the closet.” He said.

You sat up and looked at him. “No! Don’t be ridiculous James, I’m not making you sleep on the floor.” you laughed. “Besides, there’s plenty of room for both of us in this bed.” you pat the spot next to you.

James was blushing but trying to play it cool. “Ok, as long as you’re ok…”

You rolled your eyes at him but smiled. He sat on the bed next to you.

“So is it true?” you asked, looking up at him.

“Is what true?” he asked back.

You laughed and replied “That you kick.”

He chuckled and shook his head. “No… I mean maybe. How should I know I’m asleep.” he laughed.

“Have you and Sirius shared a bed a lot? I mean… for him to bring it up…” you said, trying to not make it seem like you were asking something too personal. You have seen them laying together often on the couch… you knew they were close and often brushed it off as something they did as friends, that they were just cuddling and affectionate. But know… know you weren’t too sure, with Sirius’s comment and all. Maybe they were more than friends…

James chuckled again and thought for a moment. Then he replied, “Yeah we have… when we were younger, in school, he would climb into my bed a lot when… well, Sirius doesn’t have a particularly great family. So when he would get sad or stressed or… I don’t know… if he’d have any feelings relating to it, he’d often climb in my bed. We’d talk about it, or sometimes just lay there, then eventually we would fall asleep.” he turned to you to continue. “Then when he was about 16, he ran away from home and came to live with me. For a while we only had one bed,” he laughed, “but we didn’t really mind. It wasn’t until Remus came to live with us that we all got our separate rooms.”

“Wait,” you said a bit confused, “Remus came to live with you too?”

James nodded. “Yeah, a little while after Sirius did. Remus also has… a complicated family history. So yeah… we’ve all shared beds but… I guess we just like to be close to each other.”

You felt so bad, so guilty for bringing it up. You thought that maybe… but it was actually much worse, sadder. “Oh…” you said, because that was really the only thing you could say. “I’m sorry I didn’t mean to bring-”

“Oh no! It’s fine.” James stopped you. “We're all the better for it.” He smiled.

You nodded but still felt a little bad. You hopped up and told him you were going to shower quickly. He said alright and that he would find something to watch for the two of you. Showereng, you still felt awful for assuming that maybe they had slept together, when in reality, they were just boys who were affectionate, and… ugh.

You dried off and changed into some comfy clothes, stepping out into the cold bedroom.

James was already in some sleeping pants and a hoodie, leaning back on the headboard, staring at the tv screen. “I found two movies we could watch either Jurassic World or Mulan, but if I had to pick… I’d wanna watch Jurassic World.” he said, looking at you with pleading eyes.

“You really liked the dinosaur exhibit today didn’t you?” you laughed.

“I really liked the dinosaur exhibit.” he echoed and smiled at you, turning the movie on.

You climbed into bed right alongside him, also leaning against the headboard. You two watched the movie and talked for a while longer before either of you got tired. It was midnight when both of you decided to sleep, knowing that it would be an early morning.

“Y/N?” James’s voice sounded from beside you.

“Hmm” you answered, trying to get comfortable.

“Is it ok if I take my shirt off?” he asked.

You froze completely. James was incredibly fit and you would be lying if you said you didn’t love the thought of sleeping next to him shirtless. But it was just like him to ask before doing it, to make sure he wasn’t making you uncomfortable at all.

“U-uh yeah go for it.” you stammered. Thank god he had already turned off the lights or else he would see the red hue staining your face. 

He pulled off his hoodie and threw it across the room. You turned onto your side, away from him as you heard him say “Goodnight Y/N”.

“Goodnight,” you replied.

You couldn’t sleep immediately, the one reason being that you were under the AC, which, after being in the shower, made you so much colder. You tried to pull the comforter up more, but James turned to you.

“You alright, love?” he asked.

“Yeah, just cold.” you said, trying to keep your teeth from chattering. James got up and found his hoodie from where he threw it and handed it to you.

“Oh no,” you began to protest, but it was no use, he was already bunching it up over your head. You gave in and let him slip the warm fabric over your body.

“Better?” he asked.

“A little,” you said as he climbed back into bed, truthfully, it did help, but you were still slightly cold.

You felt the bed shift, then felt his arms around you. If you weren't blushing before, you definitely were now. You made to protest, to say that it was ok and that he didn’t have to but before you could get a word out James shushed you.

“Shh, I run very warm.” he said sleepily, and it was true. He was like a human furnace, like a heated blanket wrapped around you.

You smiled and curled up to get more comfortable. You must have accidentally brushed James’s leg while doing so because he let out a yelp then a laugh.

“Why are your feet so cold!” he whisper shouted, making you giggle and apologize.

“I run very cold.” you joked. 

You both layed there, getting warm and dozing off. You wished you could feel it every night, it was like the sun was shining perfectly on you, you could get used to this. But he was your roommate and you didn’t want to make anything weird between you all, even if that meant never feeling warm enough in bed again.

i hope this is good... idk. also james got what he wanted from last part lmao

Taglist💌: @too-efn-old-to-be-here @cometsghost @eeviee4 @giuli-in-earth @spicybearnaise @the-lavender-girl @adharalikethestar @champomiel @itsleroyposts @enamoredwithbella @babymash @ilovejamespottersomuch @liszblog @sammyreid @kiaslily @idkman5335 @willowlovestheweasleys @lady-balem

[lumosou]

୨୧ — Breathing After the Ashes. 𖦹 , ✿ + ꕤ

ꕤ — Character(s) ; Harry J. Potter x Fem!Reader

ꕤ — Synopsis + Wc ; In the quiet after the storm, Harry learns to feel again—through stolen touches, whispered truths, and the solace of you. Together, you find warmth in the wreckage, and a reason to hold on. 7.9k

ꕤ — Discretion ; 18+ MDNI! angsty feelings alllll around, some fluff but mostly angstyish, the smut is so gentle and soft!!!!! mostly healing sex between reader & harry, they both need therapy.. penetrative sex! kisses as well 🫡

ꕤ — A/n ; this fic is lowkey my child but i also lowkey hate it! wtf! the pacing is kinda awkward and also repetitive bc this is genuinely the longest thing i’ve ever written and idk how to deal w it, bare with me i promise ill get better as i go 😭 i do hope u guys enjoy it somewhat!! reblogs and feedback are so so appreciated 🫶🏻

; masterlist.

The Great Hall wasn’t the same anymore. The enchanted ceiling still glowed with its usual charm, painted in amber hues that mirrored the late summer sunset, but the light felt muted somehow, swallowed by a weight too stubborn to dissipate. It hung in the air like smoke from a dying fire—bitter, clinging, impossible to outrun.

Harry sat at the Gryffindor table, the hum of voices around him blurring into an indistinct murmur. His eyes stayed fixed on his plate, laden with food he didn’t remember serving himself: roast chicken, mashed potatoes, a gleaming crescent of gravy. None of it tempted him. The thought of eating made his stomach twist uncomfortably, a dull ache that spread through his chest.

The war was over. Voldemort was gone, his name no longer a curse. This was supposed to be the part where relief set in, where everything hurt a little less. Instead, Harry felt as though he was still wading through the rubble, shoulders bowed under the crushing weight of those who hadn’t made it. Colin Creevey. Remus. Tonks. Fred. Their names were a mantra he couldn’t stop repeating in his head, their faces seared into his mind’s eye.

His grip on the fork tightened until it dug into his palm, the bite of metal a thin distraction.

“Harry.” Hermione’s voice was a soft thread that tugged him out of his spiral. He looked up, startled, to find her hand brushing against his arm. Concern clouded her features, her brows knitting together. “You don’t have to stay here. If it’s too much, you can—”

“I’m fine,” he snapped, sharper than he meant to. The words came out like a reflex, cutting her off mid-sentence. Hermione flinched, pulling back her hand, and for a fleeting moment, guilt gnawed at him. But he shoved it down. He didn’t want her worry, her pity. He didn’t want any of it.

Ron shifted beside him, chewing on a hunk of bread like it was his way out of the tension. He didn’t speak, though Harry could feel the sideways glance he shot him. The silence stretched, thick and uncomfortable, until Harry let out a slow, controlled breath and placed his fork on the plate. The metallic clang rang louder than it should’ve, making him wince.

The scrape of his chair against the floor cut through the noise of the hall as he stood abruptly. “I need some air,” he muttered, already turning away.

He didn’t wait for Hermione to protest or Ron to offer some half-hearted comment to fill the space. His feet carried him toward the door, away from the low hum of conversation and clinking dishes. Toward the one place in all of Hogwarts where the noise couldn’t follow. Where he could finally, maybe, breathe.

─────────────

The Astronomy Tower had always been Harry’s escape. Perched high above the rest of the castle, it was the only place where the world felt distant enough to bear. The sprawling grounds stretched out below him, bathed in the purples and blues of dusk, and for a brief moment, the sight eased the tension coiled in his chest. He leaned heavily against the stone railing, its chill biting through his sleeves, and the wind making his already wild hair even messier. It carried the sharp, clean scent of freshly cut grass, grounding him in the present even as his thoughts drifted elsewhere.

The sound of footsteps startled him—not loud, but enough to break the fragile stillness he’d sought. He turned sharply, hand brushing the wand tucked in his pocket, only to pause when a voice cut through the quiet.

“Are you hiding too?” you asked, lingering near the top of the stairs. The dim light softened your features, but it didn’t quite mask the curiosity behind your words. There was no malice in your tone, only a quiet humor that made his shoulders drop slightly.

“I wasn’t hiding,” Harry said automatically, though even to his ears, the denial sounded weak.

You tilted your head, unconvinced. A faint smile ghosted across your lips, but your eyes remained guarded, unreadable. “Right. You’re just conveniently up here, avoiding everyone, the same way I am.”

Harry shifted uncomfortably, his fingers brushing the edge of the railing. He didn’t respond, unsure how to defend himself—or if he even wanted to. There was something about the way you stood there, hands loosely at your sides, your voice soft but steady, that caught him off guard. It wasn’t pity or prying curiosity, just… understanding. Like you could see the weight pressing down on him and felt no need to ask what it was. Like maybe you carried some of it yourself.

He swallowed hard, his gaze flicking back to the horizon. “I guess you’re not.. wrong.’’

You stepped closer with quiet purpose, each movement deliberate, as though gauging the fragile equilibrium of Harry’s silence. He didn’t flinch or shift away, didn’t so much as glance at you. His gaze stayed locked on the horizon, but you could feel the weight of his awareness, the way the air between you seemed to hold its breath. When you finally stopped beside him at the railing, the stillness wasn’t stifling. It was tentative, balanced, as though it might shatter if either of you spoke too loudly.

“It doesn’t feel like the same place, does it?” Your voice was soft, your eyes fixed on the horizon as the last threads of sunlight dissolved into the hills. The sky deepened into shades of indigo and amber, blurring the edges of the world.

Harry nodded, though the motion felt stiff, half-hearted. “No,” he said, but the word came out hollow, too small to carry the weight behind it.

You leaned forward on the railing, fingers brushing the cool stone. “It’s strange,” you murmured, more to the sky than to him. “You think coming back will fix things, like the castle will just… feel the same. Like being here should make it easier. But it doesn’t. It’s all still different.”

Harry turned his head slightly, his gaze catching yours out of the corner of his eye. He didn’t mean to linger, but your words struck something raw, something he hadn’t managed to put into words. You’d said it so simply, yet it was exactly what had been clawing at him for months.

“Yeah,” he said quietly. “It’s not the same.”

Your eyes flicked to him, your expression unreadable. “And neither are you.”

The observation hit like a hex, sharper than you’d probably meant it to. Harry’s jaw tightened, his hands curling into fists against the stone. “Nobody is,” he said, his voice low and edged with a bitterness he didn’t entirely mean to direct at you.

But you didn’t flinch. You didn’t back away or apologize for the truth in your words. Instead, you tilted your head slightly, a flicker of understanding softening your tone. “I didn’t mean it as a bad thing,” you said, your voice gentler now. “War changes people. It has to.”

He wanted to argue, to say something sharp and deflective, but the words caught in his throat. Because you weren’t wrong. He wasn’t the same person who had fought his way out of the Chamber of Secrets or stood in front of the Mirror of Erised. He wasn’t sure who he was now—just that he wasn’t enough.

The silence stretched again, but this time it felt different. Not heavy, not empty, but something quieter, more bearable. Your arm brushed his lightly as you leaned forward on the railing, the contact fleeting yet somehow electric. He stiffened, his pulse jolting unexpectedly, and he waited for you to pull away. But you didn’t.

“You don’t have to talk about it,” you said after a moment, your voice low, steady. “I just thought you might not want to be alone. Sometimes it helps.”

He swallowed, his throat dry, and tried to muster some kind of response. He wanted to tell you he didn’t need anyone, that he was fine—had always been fine—on his own. But the words wouldn’t come. Maybe because they weren’t true.

“Thanks,” he said eventually, his voice barely audible, as though saying it too loudly might break whatever fragile thing had settled between you.

Your lips curved into the faintest smile, one that felt less like triumph and more like an offering. You leaned back against the railing, gaze lifting to the stars beginning to scatter across the night sky. They blinked faintly in the deepening dark, small points of light that somehow didn’t feel so far away.

For the first time in weeks—months, maybe—Harry let the tension in his chest ease just a little. The world still felt impossibly heavy, but next to you, it didn’t feel so crushing.

Maybe you were right. Maybe not being alone did help.

─────────────

The two of you stayed there, side by side, the silence between you settling into something quieter, more natural. Harry’s hands curled around the cold stone of the railing, the familiar feel grounding him as his eyes traced the lines of the grounds below. The weight on his chest hadn’t vanished, not completely, but your presence dulled its sharp edges, made it something he could carry, if only for a little while.

“You don’t talk much, do you?” Your voice cut through the stillness—not loud, not accusing, just curious.

Harry turned his head toward you, startled by the observation. But you weren’t looking at him. Your gaze stayed on the horizon, your features lit faintly by the glow of the rising stars.

He shrugged, the motion small, self-contained. “Guess I don’t have much to say.”

You hummed softly, the sound low and thoughtful, almost like you were agreeing with him. “Sometimes it’s easier that way,” you murmured. “Less to explain.”

His grip on the railing tightened, knuckles pressing white against the stone. He wanted to ask how you could say something like that, how you seemed to know exactly what he was thinking when he hadn’t even said it aloud. But he didn’t. He couldn’t. Some part of him was afraid that asking might shatter whatever strange, fragile understanding hung between you.

“Not everyone sees it that way,” he muttered instead. “Most people just want me to talk. Like if I say something, it’ll fix everything.”

You turned your head then, and he felt your gaze settle on him—steady, unflinching, impossible to avoid. “They probably think it’ll make them feel better,” you said, your voice calm but edged with certainty.

Harry blinked, the words landing harder than he expected. He hadn’t thought about it like that before, but of course, you were right. People didn’t just want him to be okay—they needed it. They needed Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived, to be fine so they could tell themselves that things might still go back to the way they were.

“But it’s not about them,” you added, your tone softening just slightly, as though you’d noticed the way his jaw tightened. “It’s about you.”

The words struck something deep, loosening a knot he hadn’t realized had been pulling him taut all day. He turned to look at you fully now, his gaze searching your face for something he couldn’t name. But you weren’t watching him like everyone else did. There was no pity in your expression, no awkwardness. Just quiet understanding.

“Why are you up here?” he asked, the question spilling out before he had time to think better of it. He didn’t want to talk about himself anymore, didn’t want to keep peeling open wounds that hadn’t even begun to heal.

You hesitated, just for a moment, as if deciding whether or not to answer. Then your lips quirked into a faint smile—tired, almost self-deprecating. “Guess I needed to get away too. Being around people all the time… it’s exhausting.”

He nodded slowly. That, at least, he didn’t need explained. The noise, the questions, the endless parade of looks that didn’t ask but expected—it was suffocating. Up here, though, the castle below felt distant enough to forget, just for a little while.

“It’s different up here,” he said after a pause, though he wasn’t sure he’d meant to say it out loud.

You glanced at him again, your expression softer now, as though something in his words had shifted the space between you.

“I’m glad you’re here,” he added quietly, surprising himself with the honesty of it.

You blinked, tilting your head like you hadn’t expected it either. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

And for the first time in what felt like forever, the tension in his chest eased, just a fraction. Whatever warmth flickered there wasn’t tied to the war or his title or anything he’d done to save the world. It wasn’t about being Harry Potter. It was just you.

You gave him a small, knowing smile, and for a moment, the weight of everything slipped from Harry’s shoulders. The ghosts quieted, the endless expectations faded, and the hollow ache that lived in his chest dulled just enough. Up here, with you beside him, the rest of the world felt far away, like it couldn’t reach him.

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” you said lightly, leaning back against the railing, arms folding across your chest. The breeze stirred your hair, the faint scent of pine and earth clinging to it, and Harry found himself watching the way the dim light softened your features.

“The Boy Who Lived doesn’t strike me as someone who needs anyone.”

Harry’s lips quirked into a faint smirk, but the warmth of it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Is that what people think?”

You tilted your head, considering. “People think all sorts of things about you. Half of it’s probably rubbish.”

That drew a soft laugh from him, low and unexpected. The sound sat strangely in his chest, but it didn’t feel unwelcome. “You’re probably right.”

You glanced at him then, head tilted, your gaze curious but not intrusive. It wasn’t the sharp, prying look he was used to, the one that demanded answers or apologies or pieces of him he didn’t have to give. Instead, it was quieter, like you were searching for something without expecting him to offer it. Harry shifted under the weight of it, his fingers curling tighter around the railing, but before he could say anything, you spoke again.

“Sometimes I think people forget you’re just… human.”

The words caught him off guard, sinking into him like a stone dropped into water. You didn’t say it with pity or reverence—just a soft kind of honesty that made his breath catch. It was like you weren’t talking to Harry Potter, the Chosen One, but just Harry, the boy standing beside you on a cold, quiet night.

For a moment, he couldn’t respond. The silence between you stretched, filled with a thousand things he wanted to say but couldn’t find the words for. “Sometimes I forget that too,” he said finally, the confession slipping out before he could stop it. His voice was barely audible, and yet it felt louder than anything he’d said in months. “It’s like… if I’m not fighting or fixing something, I don’t know who I’m supposed to be.”

You turned to face him fully now, your expression soft but steady. “Maybe you don’t have to figure that out right now,” you said. “Maybe it’s okay to just… be.”

The simplicity of it stunned him. Just be. As though it were that easy. As though he could strip himself of everything he carried and exist without purpose or expectation. Harry’s grip on the railing tightened. “I don’t know if I even know how to do that anymore.”

“Maybe you don’t have to do it alone.”

The words hung in the air between you, weightless and heavy all at once. Harry’s gaze lifted to meet yours, his heart stumbling in his chest. You weren’t looking at him the way most people did, like he was a puzzle to solve or a hero to rely on. You were looking at him like he was… enough.

He swallowed, his throat dry. “Why are you being so nice to me?”

Your lips curved into a soft smile, but there was something in your eyes—something faintly sad and yet unwavering. “Because I think you need it.”

The knot in his chest twisted, a sharp ache he hadn’t felt in years threatening to rise to the surface. He blinked hard, pushing it back, refusing to let it crack him open. Not here. Not now.

His hand moved almost without thinking, brushing against yours where it rested on the stone. It was a light touch, tentative and fleeting, but enough to send a jolt through him. He froze, half expecting you to pull away, to retreat the way everyone else eventually did.

But you didn’t.

The touch lingered, delicate and unspoken, neither of you pulling away. It wasn’t an accident, nor was it intentional in a way that required words. It just was, the kind of quiet moment Harry didn’t know how to name—simple, yet heavy with meaning. His gaze dropped to your hand, where your fingers just barely grazed his, and something unfamiliar stirred in him, warm and disorienting.

“I’m not used to this,” he murmured, the words slipping out before he could stop them. The night breeze nearly carried them away, but you heard him.

You turned your head, curiosity softening your expression. “Used to what?”

“Someone just… being here.” He let out a dry laugh, short and humorless, as if mocking himself. “Most people either avoid me or expect something.”

Your fingers shifted, brushing his more firmly, the subtle movement grounding him. “I don’t expect anything, Harry.”

His name, spoken so gently, without expectation or weight—it shouldn’t have struck him the way it did. But it lodged in his chest, the simplicity of it making his stomach twist. You weren’t trying to be anything other than honest, and somehow that made it worse.

He looked at you then, really looked at you. The moonlight played across your features, softening the edges, casting faint shadows against your skin. Your gaze met his and didn’t waver, holding steady in a way that made his chest tighten. There was something solid about you, something he couldn’t explain but couldn’t deny either. An anchor, maybe, in a world that had only ever felt like chaos.

“I don’t know how to…” The sentence faltered, crumbling before it could finish. Harry shook his head slightly, as if that might hide his frustration. How to what, exactly? Let someone in? Say what he was feeling? Be himself again?

“You don’t have to explain anything,” you said, like you could read his mind. Your voice was low, steady, but kind. “I meant it. You don’t have to do this alone. Whatever this is.”

A lump rose in his throat, the kind that tightened every word into silence, but he nodded, managing a quiet, “Thanks.” It felt small, inadequate, but you didn’t seem to mind. You just gave him a smile—small but warm, like the kind of light you don’t notice until it chases away the dark.

For a while, neither of you said anything. The silence wrapped around you, not heavy or cold, but something softer now. Warm, even. Harry let himself sink into it, his shoulders easing, his usual tension slipping away bit by bit. He glanced down at the grounds, the glow of the castle windows below casting long, soft shadows over the grass.

“Do you ever think about leaving?” you asked suddenly, your voice breaking the quiet but not shattering it.

Harry blinked, caught off guard. “Leaving Hogwarts?”

You nodded. “Yeah. Just… walking away. Starting over somewhere far from all of this.”

He hesitated, the idea catching him in a way he wasn’t expecting. The thought of leaving everything—this castle, its whispers, the weight of who he was supposed to be—was both terrifying and strangely tempting. To go somewhere he could just be Harry, without the war, without the name, without the constant pull of the past.

“Sometimes,” he admitted, the word quiet but honest. “But… I don’t think I could. I don’t know who I’d be without all of this.”

You nodded, like you understood. “Maybe that’s something you figure out with time.”

There was no judgment in your voice, just patience, and that startled him more than the question itself. Harry turned to look at you, searching your face for something he couldn’t name. You weren’t pushing him. You weren’t rushing him to have answers he didn’t have. And somehow, that made him ache.

“What about you?” he asked, the words coming out before he could stop them. “Would you leave?”

Your smile was faint, wistful, like the question had passed through you a thousand times already. “I think about it. But I always come back to the same answer.” You paused, your gaze slipping to the horizon. “I don’t think running away fixes anything.”

He nodded slowly, letting the words sink in. “Yeah. You’re probably right.”

You laughed softly, and the sound caught him by surprise. It wasn’t loud, but it was real, and it made something in his chest ease. “Only probably?”

The corner of his mouth twitched, the ghost of a smile finally breaking through. “Fine. You’re definitely right.”

“There you go,” you teased, your tone lighter now. “See? That wasn’t so hard.”

It was strange how the conversation shifted, how the tension between you melted into something easier. Lighter. For the first time in longer than he could remember, Harry felt himself relax into the moment, his guard lowering just enough to let the night and your presence settle over him. For once, the weight on his shoulders didn’t feel so crushing. For once, the world outside the two of you could wait.

─────────────

The hours blurred together, the sky above deepening into a velvety indigo scattered with stars. The castle had fallen silent, the faint hum of voices and clatter of dishes from the Great Hall fading into memory. You hadn’t moved far from him, and Harry found himself noticing—really noticing—how the quiet didn’t feel oppressive anymore. It wasn’t heavy or suffocating. It was just… there. And for the first time in what felt like forever, it was bearable.

When you turned to him, your gaze was steady, searching but not invasive. “Do you think you’ll ever feel normal again?”

The question caught him off guard. It wasn’t laced with pity or weighed down with expectation—it was just honest. Simple. It twisted something inside him all the same. Harry swallowed hard, the knot in his chest pulling tighter.

“I don’t know what normal is,” he admitted, his voice low, like he was confessing something fragile to the night itself. “Maybe I.. never really did.”

You nodded, like that answer didn’t surprise you. Like it wasn’t the wrong one. “I think a lot of us feel that way.”

You didn’t push, didn’t prod for more, and that—more than anything—made him want to keep going.

“When it ended…” He trailed off, his eyes dropping to his hands on the railing. They looked unfamiliar, scarred and pale against the stone. “I thought it would stop. The hurt. I thought I’d feel relieved.” His jaw tightened, and the next words slipped out like they had been waiting for years. “But it didn’t. And now I don’t know if it ever will.”

The admission hung in the air, raw and vulnerable. Harry’s fingers curled against the railing, the cold bite of the stone grounding him. He didn’t look at you—he couldn’t. He didn’t know what he’d see in your eyes, and some part of him was afraid of it.

“You lost so much,” you said softly, your voice steady but laced with something achingly gentle. “It’s okay to feel like that. No one expects you to just move on.”

Harry let out a hollow laugh, bitter and quiet. “Everyone expects me to be fine. To be Harry Potter, the one who saved everyone.” He gestured vaguely to himself, his voice cracking under the weight of it. “They don’t want to see this. Whatever this is.”

“I do,” you said, your voice unwavering.

The words hit him like a punch to the chest, knocking the air clean out of him. His head snapped up, his eyes meeting yours. There was no hesitation in your expression, no doubt. Just quiet sincerity, so clear and certain it left him breathless.

“Why?” The question fell from his lips before he could stop it.

You shrugged, a faint, bittersweet smile curving your lips. “Because… you’re more than what everyone sees. And because I think you deserve someone who doesn’t just want the shiny bits of you.”

Harry stared at you, his chest tightening painfully. He didn’t know how to respond, didn’t know how to process something so simple yet staggering. No one had ever said anything like that to him before—at least, not in a way that felt this real.

The air between you shifted, heavier now, like it was carrying something unspoken, something fragile but undeniable. You weren’t touching, but Harry could still feel the warmth of you beside him, like a presence he didn’t want to lose. His heart pounded harder, the sound of it loud in his ears.

“I don’t think I deserve it,” he said quietly, his voice barely audible.

Your brows knit together, a flicker of sadness crossing your face, but you didn’t look away. Instead, you stepped closer, close enough that he could see the faint curve of your lashes, the soft press of your lips. “I think you do.”

Harry inhaled sharply, his grip tightening on the railing as you moved into his space. His pulse thundered, and his mind raced with the weight of the moment, with how close you were, with the quiet pull of something he wasn’t sure he had the strength to reach for.

“I don’t want to screw this up,” he whispered, the words raw and fractured.

“You won’t,” you said softly, your voice steady but kind. “But you don’t have to decide anything right now.”

His eyes flicked to your lips, then back to your eyes, and he felt something shift in him—like a thread unraveling after being pulled too tight for too long. Slowly, almost hesitantly, he reached out, his fingers brushing yours again.

This time, you didn’t just let the touch linger. You let your fingers twine with his, warm and certain, the weight of it enough to crack the walls he’d been holding up for so long.

Harry’s breath hitched as your fingers laced with his, the touch so simple yet carrying the weight of something he didn’t quite know how to name. It sent a ripple through him—a warmth that started in his chest and spread outward, leaving a faint ache in its wake. His grip tightened slightly, hesitant but sure, and he drew in a shaky breath, trying to ground himself in the moment.

You didn’t push him, didn’t say a word. You just stayed there, steady and close, your thumb brushing softly over the back of his hand. The stars above blurred into the edges of his vision, the castle fading into shadow. The world narrowed until it was only you, your touch, and the quiet hum of something unspoken between you.

“I don’t know how to do this,” he admitted, his voice low and uneven. His green eyes searched yours, wide and vulnerable in a way that made his chest feel both too tight and too open. “I don’t know how to let myself… feel like this.”

You didn’t flinch or pull back. Instead, you gave him a small, steady smile, your free hand lifting, hovering just near his arm, a silent question. “You don’t have to know how. You just have to let it happen.”

Harry exhaled, shaky and raw, but didn’t pull away. If anything, he leaned closer, his forehead almost brushing yours. His heart pounded so loudly it drowned out everything else, but for once, he didn’t care. He was tired of holding himself together, of keeping everyone out, of pretending he didn’t need this.

And then, almost instinctively, he closed the space between you.

The kiss was gentle, hesitant, like he was afraid of breaking something fragile. Or maybe breaking himself. But the moment your hand slid to his cheek, grounding him, something inside him unraveled. He pressed deeper into the kiss, his other hand rising to rest lightly at your waist. It wasn’t desperate or hurried—it was slow, deliberate, filled with everything he couldn’t put into words.

Your fingers threaded into his hair, pulling him closer, and Harry felt something crack open in his chest. It wasn’t pain, but a kind of aching relief, as though he’d been holding his breath for years and was finally allowed to exhale. For the first time in what felt like forever, he wasn’t drowning.

When you finally pulled back, your breaths mingling in the cool night air, Harry didn’t go far. His forehead rested lightly against yours, his hand still at your waist, his fingers curling slightly against the fabric as though afraid you might disappear if he let go.

“Sorry,” he murmured, though there was no regret in his voice, only uncertainty. “I… I didn’t mean to—”

“Don’t apologize,” you interrupted, your voice soft but certain. Your hand slid down to rest over his chest, where his heart still raced beneath your touch. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

A quiet laugh slipped from him, more a sigh than anything else. “I’m not used to this.”

“Neither am I,” you admitted, your fingers tracing small, absent shapes against the fabric of his shirt. “But.. I think we’re allowed to have this. Even after everything.”

Your words settled deep in his chest, heavy and grounding in a way that didn’t feel like a burden. He didn’t know if he fully believed you—not yet—but for the first time, he wanted to. He wanted to let himself try, to let himself have this, even if it scared him.

“Stay,” he said quietly, the word barely above a whisper. It wasn’t a question. It was a plea.

Your lips curved into a small, tender smile, and you nodded. “I’m not going anywhere.”

─────────────

The space between you thrummed with tension, the kind that wasn’t uncomfortable but electric, alive with everything unspoken. Harry’s hand lingered at your waist, the tips of his fingers brushing against the fabric of your shirt, hesitant but wanting. His other hand gripped the railing behind you, steadying himself as he leaned in, his lips hovering just shy of yours. Your heart pounded, loud enough to drown out the quiet of the night.

You didn’t pull away. Instead, you tilted closer, your fingers curling into the front of his shirt, clutching the soft cotton as though it might keep you tethered. His breath ghosted over your lips, warm and uneven, and when he kissed you again, it was different this time—no hesitation, no doubt.

It started slow, the way it had before, soft and searching. But when you pressed closer, your body molding against his, something inside him gave way. The kiss deepened, shifting into something more urgent, more unrestrained, as if the careful control he had been holding onto had finally slipped. His grip on your waist tightened, pulling you flush against him, and for a moment, nothing else existed but the heat between you.

Your hands slid up his chest, fingers trailing over the steady thrum of his heartbeat. He felt so solid beneath your palms, so real, and yet the way he kissed you was anything but careful. Your hands found his shoulders, clutching tightly as he kissed you harder, his need for you palpable. One of his hands left the railing to thread through your hair, his fingers tangling there with a kind of reverence that sent a shiver down your spine.

The rough stone at your back was cool, grounding, but it was nothing compared to the warmth of Harry’s body pressed against yours. He seemed to be everywhere at once, overwhelming in the best way.

“Is this okay?” he murmured against your lips, his voice rough and unsteady.

You nodded quickly, your breath catching as he kissed you again, more certain this time. “Yes,” you managed to whisper, your voice trembling. Your fingers slid to the nape of his neck, brushing against the soft, slightly damp strands of his hair. “More than okay.”

That was all the encouragement he needed. His lips left yours, trailing down along your jaw, slow and deliberate. When he reached the curve of your neck, the heat of his breath against your skin sent a spark shooting through you, and you couldn’t stop the quiet sound that escaped your lips.

The noise seemed to break something in him. His hand slid lower, from your waist to your hip, his thumb grazing the bare skin just above the waistband of your jeans. His name slipped from your lips without thinking, and Harry groaned softly, the sound reverberating against your throat. He pressed you more firmly against the railing, his body bracketing yours as though he wanted to block out the rest of the world.

His mouth continued its path along the line of your throat, slow and reverent, stopping just above the collar of your shirt. Every kiss left a trail of fire in its wake, every touch pulling you deeper into him.

“Tell me if—” he started, his voice hoarse and uneven, but you cut him off, your hands gripping his shirt to pull him back up to kiss you again. This time, you were the one who deepened it, letting him feel the weight of everything you couldn’t say. He responded instantly, his hands roaming over your waist, your hips, your back, as though trying to memorize the shape of you.

You broke the kiss only when you couldn’t breathe, your forehead resting against his as you whispered, “Not here.”

Harry froze for a moment, his breath heavy against your lips, his eyes locked on yours. They were dark, intense, filled with something raw and vulnerable. You half-expected him to hesitate, but instead, he nodded, his hand sliding down to find yours. His grip was warm, firm, and steady, like it was the only thing anchoring him.

“Come on,” he said quietly, his voice low and sure.

You didn’t need to ask where. You just followed, your hand in his, trusting him completely.

─────────────

Harry led you through the castle’s dim corridors, his hand steady in yours. The silence wasn’t awkward—it buzzed with anticipation, each step echoing softly against the stone walls. His grip was firm but gentle, grounding you in the moment, though the occasional brush of his thumb against your skin sent a quiet thrill through you, making it harder to focus on anything but him.

He didn’t tell you where he was taking you, and you didn’t ask. You trusted him completely.

When he stopped, it was outside an empty classroom near the Charms corridor. The door creaked softly as he pushed it open, revealing a quiet space bathed in silvery moonlight pouring through tall, arched windows. The room was unremarkable, desks and chairs pushed to the sides, but it felt secluded—safe. A haven away from the weight of everything outside.

Harry let go of your hand only to close the door behind you, locking it with a flick of his wand. The soft click echoed in the stillness, and your pulse quickened as he turned back to face you. His gaze met yours, sharp and intense, and for a moment, you felt frozen under the weight of it.

“Is this okay?” he asked, his voice low, almost uncertain.

You didn’t answer with words. Instead, you stepped forward, your hands finding the front of his shirt again, pulling him down into a kiss that left no room for doubt. His lips met yours hungrily, and his hands found your waist, anchoring you against him. This time, there was no hesitation in the way he held you, his touch firm but reverent, like he’d been waiting for this moment as long as you had.

The kiss deepened quickly, the tension that had simmered between you all night spilling over like floodwaters. His hands slid up your back, pulling you closer, his body pressed against yours like he couldn’t bear even a breath of space between you. Your fingers found the hem of his shirt, tugging it upward, and he broke the kiss only long enough to let you pull it over his head, the fabric falling to the floor.

Your gaze drifted over his chest, tracing the faint scars etched across his skin, each one a reminder of everything he’d endured. The moonlight highlighted every line, every curve of muscle, and for a moment, he looked vulnerable—unsure. His chest rose and fell quickly, his nerves evident, but you didn’t let him linger there.

Your fingers brushed over his scars, soft and deliberate, and you leaned in to kiss him again. He melted into it, his hesitance replaced by a quiet urgency as his hands slid to your hips. His lips left yours to trail down your jaw, finding your neck, his kisses slow and infused with something akin to hunger. The heat of his mouth against your skin made you shiver, your breath catching as his fingers found the hem of your shirt and lifted it.

You raised your arms to let him pull it off, and when he stepped back just slightly, his gaze lingered on you in the moonlight, reverent and full of something raw that made warmth bloom low in your stomach.

“You’re incredible,” he murmured, his voice barely audible, as though he wasn’t sure he was allowed to say it aloud.

Before you could respond, he kissed you again, his hands wandering your sides and back, like he was mapping every inch of you. You barely noticed the edge of a desk pressing into the backs of your thighs as he guided you backward, his movements growing bolder with each passing moment.

Your fingers drifted down his chest, following the ridges of his muscles until they found the waistband of his jeans. You worked the button free, and Harry let out a low groan, his forehead dropping to yours, his breath warm against your lips.

“Are you sure?” he asked, his voice strained, his green eyes searching yours with an intensity that made your heart stumble.

“I’m sure,” you whispered, your voice steady despite the whirlwind of nerves and desire coursing through you. “I want this. I want you.”

Something in his expression shifted, the raw emotion behind his gaze making your chest ache. He kissed you again, slower this time, as though he was trying to pour every unsaid word, every feeling he couldn’t name, into the press of his lips.

His hands gripped your thighs, lifting you onto the desk with ease. You wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him closer, the warmth of him against you making your breath hitch. Every touch, every kiss, every whispered sound felt all-consuming, pulling you deeper into him.

The world outside disappeared. There was no war, no expectations, no fear. Just Harry—the feel of his hands, the heat of his mouth, the quiet way he murmured your name like it was the only thing keeping him grounded.

For the first time in what felt like forever, the weight you both carried didn’t matter. In this moment, there was nothing but the two of you, and that was enough.

Harry’s hands gripped your thighs firmly, his touch grounding and electric all at once. His kisses grew hungrier, more insistent, his mouth moving against yours like he’d been holding back for far too long. The edge of the desk pressed into your back, but the slight discomfort melted away beneath the heat of his body pressing against yours. Everything about him—his hands, his lips, the low, ragged sounds he made—consumed you entirely.

Your fingers worked at the top of his jeans, fumbling slightly in your haste. Harry groaned softly against your mouth as you finally managed to pull them down, his breath hitching sharply when your hands slipped below the waistband of his boxers brushing against the heated skin just above his throbbing length. His hips jerked slightly at the contact, and the sound that escaped his lips was low and guttural, sending a rush of heat spiraling through you.

He pulled back slightly, just enough to look at you. His green eyes were dark, heavy-lidded, and filled with something raw that made your pulse stutter. His hands slid to your hips, fingers brushing against the hem of your jeans. “Can I?” he asked, his voice low and rough, barely steady.

“Please,” you breathed, lifting your hips to help him.

His gaze stayed locked on you as he slid your jeans down, the fabric brushing against your skin in a way that left you shivering. The look in his eyes made your breath catch—a mixture of reverence and want, like he couldn’t quite believe you were real. His hands trembled slightly as he tossed the jeans aside, and the way his gaze raked over you, slow and deliberate, made warmth bloom low in your stomach.

“You’re…” He trailed off, his words faltering as his eyes met yours again. He didn’t need to finish the sentence; the intensity in his expression said everything his voice couldn’t.

You reached for him, pulling him closer until his bare chest pressed against yours. The heat of his skin against yours sent a shiver through you, and when his hands slid back to your thighs, parting them just slightly, you gasped quietly. His lips found yours again, slower this time, deeper. Each kiss was deliberate, filled with a need that made your whole body tremble.

One of his hands slipped between your legs, his fingers brushing against the fabric of your underwear. The touch was tentative at first, testing, but when a soft moan slipped from your lips, his confidence grew. His fingers pressed more firmly, tracing the heat of you through the fabric, and you arched into his touch instinctively, the sensation overwhelming.

“God, you’re so—” Harry broke off with a groan, his free hand gripping your thigh tightly as you rolled your hips against his hand. His breathing was unsteady now, ragged and uneven. “You’re perfect.”

The words sent a jolt of pleasure through you, making your pulse race. You reached for him, your fingers slipping beneath the waistband of his boxers, finally pulling the restrictive barrier between the two of you down. His forehead dropped to your shoulder as your hand wrapped around him, the heat and weight of him making your own breath falter. He let out a strangled moan, his hips rocking instinctively into your touch.

“Wait,” he murmured, his voice tight, like he was holding on to the last threads of control. He pulled back just enough to look at you, his hands trembling as they moved to your waist. “I want to—can I—”

You nodded quickly, your cheeks warm, reaching for him again to help guide his length inside you. The desk creaked faintly as he stepped closer, his hands finding your hips as he lined himself up with you. He hesitated, his eyes meeting yours, and for a moment, the world stilled.

“Are you sure?” he asked, his voice softer this time, steady but full of emotion.

“Yes,” you whispered, your voice sure despite the nerves and anticipation rushing through you. “I want this, Harry. I want you—all of you.”

That was all he needed.

Harry leaned in, his lips finding yours again as he pushed forward, slow and purposeful. The initial stretch made you tense, your fingers instinctively tightening against his shoulders. But then his breath brushed warm against your cheek, and the soft, shaky sound he let out as he slid deeper sent a ripple through you, easing the tension and replacing it with something else entirely—something that left you breathless.

“You okay?” he murmured, his forehead pressing against yours. His voice was tight, laced with restraint, and it made your heart ache in the best way.

“Yes,” you whispered, your nails digging lightly into his skin as your body adjusted to him. “Just… don’t stop.”

His jaw tightened, and he nodded, his hands trembling slightly where they gripped your waist. He started to move, his hips rolling in a slow, achingly delicious rhythm that made your breath catch. Each motion sent a wave of heat building steadily through you, your body arching instinctively toward his as though you couldn’t get close enough.

“God,” he groaned, the sound rough and raw as it left him. His hands slid down to your thighs, lifting you slightly to meet his thrusts, and the shift made you gasp. Your head fell back against the desk as the new angle sent a spark shooting through you. “You feel so—”

The rest of his words broke off into a low curse, his lips finding your neck again as his movements quickened. The world beyond the room ceased to exist—the only things that mattered were the soft creak of the desk beneath you, the heat of his body against yours, and the quiet, desperate noises that escaped him with every thrust.

Your hips tilted to meet his rhythm, and the friction left you dizzy, sparks lighting beneath your skin. Your hands slid into his hair, tangling in the messy strands as his face buried in the curve of your shoulder. His breath was hot against your skin, and each groan that escaped his lips sent a shiver coursing down your spine, your body arching into his as the pressure low in your belly coiled tighter.

“Harry,” you gasped, his name tumbling from your lips like a plea, raw and unrestrained. His response was a groan that seemed to echo through you, his hands gripping your hips tighter, his touch almost possessive as he pulled you closer.

“You’re gorgeous,” he murmured, the words rough against your skin, reverent and awed. His voice broke slightly as he added, “I—I can’t…”

“Don’t hold back,” you whispered, your voice trembling but sure. Your hands slid down his back, clutching at his waist to anchor yourself. “I’m here. I’ve got you.”

For a brief moment, his pace faltered, his forehead pressing against yours as though grounding himself in the moment. And then he kissed you again, hard and desperate, his lips crashing into yours as though he needed you more than air. His rhythm grew uneven, each thrust deeper, more precise, until the tension inside you snapped.

The wave that crashed over you left you trembling, your body shuddering in his arms as the heat and intensity overwhelmed you. His name slipped from your lips again, barely audible, as you clung to him.

Moments later, Harry followed, his movements faltering as he buried himself in you one final time. A low, guttural sound escaped his lips as he trembled against you, his forehead dropping to yours. His breaths came fast and ragged, his chest heaving as he held you close, his hands gripping your hips as though afraid to let go.

For a long time, neither of you moved. The room was silent except for the soft hum of your breathing, the faint rustle of fabric as Harry shifted, wrapping his arms more securely around you. He pulled you close, his body still trembling faintly, and you rested your head against his shoulder, your fingers tracing aimless patterns across his back.

“Are you okay?” he asked after a moment, his voice hoarse but filled with quiet concern.

A soft smile tugged at your lips, and you tilted your head just enough to brush a kiss against his neck. “More than okay,” you whispered.

Harry let out a quiet laugh, low and warm, his arms tightening around you. “Me too,” he murmured, his lips brushing lightly against your temple.

Finally, for what seemed like an eternity. Everything felt right, it felt okay. Like harry could just..exist again.

﹙@ 𝗹𝘂𝗺𝗼𝘀𝗼𝘂 ﹚

[ellecdc]

Could you continue on the moon water x pregnant reader, where she’s further along? And how the boys react, like who’s more protective Remus or regulus? Who’s doing all the cooking? Just a cut little domestic fic

Also I love all of your work!!

THANK YOU FOR REQUESTING I TOTALLY DIDN'T HAVE THIS DRAFTED UP IMMEDIATELY AFTER THE LAST ONE....THAT WOULD BE EMBARRASSING LOL thanks though I love this little dynamic so friggen much

poly!moonwater x pregnant!reader who's in her first trimester

You learned a lot about yourself and both of your boyfriends throughout the first trimester of your pregnancy.

Though you had always known that both Remus and Regulus were prone to worrying, you learned that they both had very different methods of worrying over you.

Regulus was what you called a fusser. He was constantly fussing over you. Adding extra servings to your plate unprompted. Running out the night he found out you were pregnant to buy prenatal vitamins and potions (muggle and magical), which he served to you each morning himself so that he knew that you were taking them. No one was allowed to use the loo attached to your bedroom, as that toilet was deemed the vomit toilet, which he disinfected twice a day in case you needed to ‘rest your poor beautiful face on it’ as was often the case. He insisted you stay bundled, almost forcing extra layers on you before you stepped outside. And he insisted you begin pelvic floor exercises immediately.

Remus was what you called a coddler. He was always hovering over you at the off chance you might need something at that exact moment. “Are you comfortable, dovey?” “Do you need anything?” “Are you thirsty?” “Did Regulus upset you?” “Do you want me to rub your feet?” “Do you want me to call you in at work?” “Why don’t we go take a nap, hm?” “Have you drank enough water today?” and so on and so forth.

What you learned about yourself during the first trimester of your pregnancy?

You hated being fussed over. 

“Regulus Black, I am full.” You pressed, shooting your boyfriend a stern glare where he stood beside you, serving spoon hovering in the air from his attempt at putting more on your plate.

“Amour, I don’t think you’ve had enough to eat today. You’re eat-”

“For two, she knows. Bubs, she full named you, I’d cut your losses if I were you.” Remus stage whispered to Regulus, shooting you a sympathetic albeit concerned glance.

Regulus looked distressed as he awkwardly hovered at your side, seemingly trying to decide between surrendering or pushing his point. 

“Maybe just-”

“Full!” You shrilled, standing from the table and storming off towards the entrance. You pulled on a pair of shoes and your jacket before grabbing your car keys and heading for the door when you noticed movement in your periphery.

“Regulus I swear to gods, if you come over here with another jacket I will set you on fire.”

Without missing a beat he turned on his heel and disappeared back from whence he came - one of your jackets still firm in his grasp.

Regulus, Remus, and James all gawked at you when you told them you wanted to buy a car. You were a witch, you could get anywhere in seconds with a flick of your wand, a portkey, or a handful of floo powder.

Lily understood the contentment that came with going for a drive once in a while, but your biggest supporter had been Sirius. He loved almost nothing more in this world than the way he loved his motorcycle.

He had insisted on accompanying you car shopping, and whilst he teased you to no end for not choosing the flashiest car available to waste Regulus’ inheritance on, you were happy with your purchase. 

You were also beginning to wonder if portkey and apparition was a safe way to travel now-a-days, what with your pregnancy and all.

You’d driven for maybe all of twenty minutes before you were parked back outside of your flat, staring at the navy painted door.

You felt ridiculous for getting upset. It’s not even like this behaviour of theirs was new, though it was perhaps heightened on account of your growing family. 

You hated drawing attention to it - not one to minimise your own feelings - but you also supposed you were feeling… extra sensitive lately on account of the…hormones. 

You suddenly felt teary; Regulus was being so thoughtful; you haven’t once had to think or worry about, well, almost anything. He ensured you had everything you needed, and you never even had to ask for it.

And Remus was always close by to ensure you never wanted for anything, willing to drop whatever he was doing on a sickle to serve you.

Fuck, they were saints, you were awful.

Feeling thoroughly ashamed of yourself, you got out of your car and made your way to the flat, shucking off your jacket and shoes before moving down the hall to the living room.

Regulus snapped his head in your direction immediately, whilst Remus smirked to himself and calmly placed a scrap of paper in his book to mark his spot. 

“Amour, I-”

“I’m so sorry, Reggie.” You whimpered, causing Regulus to deflate and his face to fall in misery. 

“No, darling, no. You have nothing to be sorry for.” He insisted as he moved to envelop you in his arms. 

“I was awful.” You muttered into his chest causing him to chuckle. 

“You were not awful; you were really quite reasonable.”

“I was mean.”

“Amour,” he pressed more seriously, pulling away from you and forcing you to make eye contact with him. “When I broke my heel and was stuck in that cast for weeks, what did I say to Rem when he was fussing over me?”

You chuckled slightly as you looked over to Remus, noticing him roll his eyes fondly at the memory. 

“You told him to go fuck a cactus.” 

Regulus looked at you with an expression of pride. “I told him to go fuck a cactus.” He agreed dreamily. 

“Dove, even if it doesn’t always feel like it, you’re working awfully hard right now. You’re going to be tired, perhaps a little irritable, and it is more than fair for you to tell us to back off, yeah?” 

You pushed your face back into regulus’ chest as you felt your sinuses fill painfully. 

“Yeah.” You whimpered back pathetically. 

Remus made an equally pathetic cooing sound and moved to stand behind Regulus, wrapping his arms around the both of you. 

“Probably doesn’t help to have two of the most overbearing partners, hm?” He asked as he rubbed circles into your back. 

“You’re not overbearing.” You argued. 

“No?” Regulus asked, pressing a kiss into your hair. “What are we?”

“Lovely.” 

“Dove? Are you crying?” 

“……no”

“Why are you crying, amour?”

“Because I’m pregnant and you’re lovely.” You whined. 

They both chuckled at you and the three of you stood in each other's embrace. 

As was usually the case, Regulus was the first to break the silence. 

“I really would feel better if you ate a little bit more tonight, amour. Can I get you anything, anything at all?”

You suppressed a groan and thought really, really hard about it. You supposed you were a little peckish, and if you didn’t eat now - you’d surely be hungry by the time you got into bed. 

“Can we have fast food?” 

Regulus let out a sigh of relief and Remus barked a laugh. 

“You know, I was sort of hoping you’d suggest that, Dovey. I’ve been dying for some curly fries.” 

With nothing more said, Regulus went and grabbed two jackets for you, tossing you the car keys and asking if you were in the mood for a drive to look at the city lights. 

You sat parked in a turn-off facing a bridge and overlooking the Thames, watching the lights of cars, planes, and boats dancing along the water in your view. 

Though both boys had been nothing but supportive of you and your pregnancy, you knew that they both had some worries and fears that only their brother and best friend could pacify. 

“We should probably tell the others soon.” You admitted finally.

If you didn’t know better, you’d have assumed the silence in the car meant that you actually hadn’t said anything out loud at all.

You did know better, though, and it was the way Regulus’ spoon paused halfway between his ice cream and his mouth that assured you he had, indeed, heard you. 

“Really?” Remus asked first, breaking the silence and rebooting Regulus’ hard drive as he finally brought the spoon to his mouth.

“Yeah, I think it would be helpful, for all of us really. I mean, James and Lily have done this before, and Sirius would be very enthused.” You explained.

The three of you had decided to play it safe and wait until the end of the first trimester to start telling anyone, with this being your first pregnancy and all.

You knew, though, that if you weren’t already starting to show (the boys insisted you weren’t, but you think they were just trying to appease you), you would be very soon. 

Regulus finally hummed and plopped his spoon into his now empty ice cream cup.

“Or,” He started, keeping his eyes trained on the scenery in front of him. “We could pack up, change our names and move to Switzerland.”

His suggestion was met with silence (and unimpressed looks from both his partners that he didn’t bother to look at himself), causing him to groan and sink further into his seat.

“Fine. But you have to deal with Sirius’ insufferable excitement.” He pouted, though he couldn’t hide the soft blush adorning his cheeks and the little smile gracing his lips. 

“Your options are Sirius or James, bubs.” Remus chuckled.

“I still don’t see why Switzerland’s not on the table.” Regulus countered, earning him a pinch in his ribs from Remus.

You picked the right ones, you thought; you had the best family to bring your little one into.

[thenyoumightaswellwrestleangels]

Please forgive this fear of mine (it used to keep me safe)

let me wrap my teeth around the world - series masterlist here

pairing: poly marauders x reader (gender neutral)

length: 1.9k

genre: fluff, happy ending to the angst

warnings: slytherin reader, here's the happy ending folks, reader is described as very attractive in a lot of different ways by the boys but it's all ofc still gender neutral

a/n: here it is I PROMISED I would give you the happy ending to I don’t know you anymore (maybe I never really did)

"You made James cry." You flinch at Remus's words, looking up at him from where you're sitting in the astronomy tower. He sits next to you as you look back out at the night sky, the stars blinking in and out.

"I wanted to talk to him to fix things, not make it worse," you say stubbornly. Remus raises a brow at you.

"Did you really think what you said would help?" He asks dryly. You stiffen.

"I'm trying my best."

"We all are." His words sit heavily in the silence between you, Remus looking at you pointedly, patiently, while you stare up through the clouds. As the constellations stare back at you, you find your hands bunching into fists as you miss Sirius sitting next to you, leaning against your side and pointing out stars and their names to you. You feel suddenly nauseous at the realization that you'll never have that again. Oh well.

"I would've thought it'd be Sirius up here right now. I'm sure he wants to chew me out for this," you say. Remus looks at you knowingly. 

"He's upset right now. We thought it would be best for me to come talk to you while he calms down. He loves you too much to knowingly hurt you."

"Don't say that," you snap back. Remus doesn't flinch.

"It's true. He loves you."

"Stop."

"Why is that so difficult for you to hear?" Remus pushes, gentle and soft in all the ways that make you crumble. You grit your teeth as you begin to feel your eyes burning, knowing that if you start crying, it'll make the whole thing so much worse.

"I didn't mean to do this," you say bitterly, a defensiveness in your voice that has Remus straightening. "And it'll be my fault when it wrecks everything - it already is."

"What do you mean by that, dove?" Remus asks patiently. You look at him and he stares back, lost in whatever it is you're trying to communicate.

"You think I'm horrible for leaving," your voice warbles against your will and you dig your nails into your palms. "You think I'm heartless and cruel for stringing you all along and then running away."

"Hey, love, we don't think that -"

"But it's not my fault," you barrel on. Now that you've opened the floodgates, the words burn your throat in your desperation to get them all out. "The only way to make sure the three of you don't fight over me is to leave. If I'd stayed, you would've demanded I choose one of you and no matter who I choose, it would have been wrong and it would've hurt you all and the stupid jealousy you all would've gotten lost in would've wrecked everything." You stare at Remus after your outburst, desperately wiping away the tears that have begun rolling down your cheeks. Remus stares back, shock painting his features.

"I beg your pardon?" Is all he finally says. You huff and begin to turn away, but he stops you with a delicate hand on your cheek, gently forcing you to look at him.

"I love you," he says firmly.

"I'm sorry," you whisper back.

"No, listen to me. I love you -" 

"And I'm sorry," you interrupt. Remus sighs and smoothes his thumb over your cheekbone, but lets you continue. He's never seen you hysterical like this and there's an anxiousness eating at him at your distraught state, but he can't think of anything to do other than just walk you through it. "I told you, I didn't mean to do this."

"You didn't… mean to make us fall in love with you?" Remus hesitates.

"Yes," you huff back like it's obvious. And then, much quieter, "I didn't mean to ruin everything. I swear, I didn't mean to." Something in Remus's heart clenches painfully at the sad, small, warble in your voice and he draws in a deep breath.

"Ok, sweet thing. Can I just… speak for a minute? Just listen, ok?" You wince like you're being chastised and Remus rushes to speak before another apology can tumble out of your mouth. "It's alright, you're alright. Just… I love you, ok? Hey, no, look at me. I love you. And so does James. And so does Sirius. They love you as much as they love one another and as much as they love me. And I love you as much as I love them."

"…I don't think I know what you're saying," you respond slowly, blinking rapidly. Remus smiles sheepishly and something in you softens as you let your head rest a bit where he's got your face held securely in his palms.

"It was never a competition, dove. There's no jealousy. We're… sharers. You share me with the others, right? And you share them with me? We all… share you the same way." Remus strokes your cheeks with his thumbs gently, waiting and watching as you put together what he's said.

"Oh," you say abruptly. "Oh. I hadn't - I didn't… oh." Remus lets himself laugh a bit, pulling you closer with an arm around your shoulders and smiling when you slouch against his chest, although he assumes it's mostly out of shock. You pull back after a moment, though, narrowing your eyes at him. He blinks.

"You're all awful communicators, you know," you say haughtily. He kisses you on the forehead.

"Sorry, doll."

"Whatever. I tortured us all for nothing."

"Yes, well, you do have a flair for dramatics. I think it's what Sirius loves about you." Remus pokes your side gently. You squirm a little but sit up straighter at the mention of Sirius.

"Tell them I'm sorry, will you?" You ask gently. Remus frowns.

"You'll tell them yourself… won't you?"

"Yes," you huff out a laugh. "I'm not running away again. But you'll see them before I do."

"Alright, love," Remus plants a kiss on the corner of your mouth, so soft you barely feel it. "I'll let them know."

You wonder, sort of desperately, if Remus kept his word. The way Sirius is staring at you makes you shift, rolling the tension out of your neck before you slump further down into the couch you're sitting on, looking back at him. Sirius is sitting opposite you rather pointedly, choosing the couch farthest from you as the two of you sit in the Gryffindor common room. James and Remus are supposed to be here by now, but your constant glances toward the doorway don't materialize them in front of you.

"I thought you weren't angry at us anymore," Sirius's voice snaps you back to the present. It's soft, the way he speaks to you - kind, your brain supplies weakly.

"I was never angry at you," you sit a bit straighter. Sirius shrugs, but his eyes stay trained on you.

"Avoidant, then. You're looking at me like you're waiting for me to tear you a new one."

"Well," you blink. "Are you going to?" Sirius frowns at your words, shaking his head and letting loose strands of hair fall over his eyes.

"I'm not here to have a row with you, doll," he says gently. Your shoulders drop.

"Well… you could," you point out. "I don't expect all to be forgiven just because I bat my eyes at Remus and let him kiss me a bit." Sirius leans forward at your words, propping his elbows on his knees and looking at you intently. You shift in your seat and glance at the door again.

"You seem to be under the impression that your beauty is some horrible weapon you use against us. It's really not - you're just pretty."

"Just pretty?" You say indignantly. Sirius laughs.

"Drop-dead gorgeous, of course. I didn't mean it like that - you know I think you're fit. All I'm saying is that you haven't ensnared us in any way that we're unhappy about." Sirius grins at you, canines exposed, and you roll your eyes. "I'm happy to be caught in your trap, baby."

"Oh, aren't we all," James says as he flounces into the room, Remus coming in right behind him. James settles next to you on the couch and pulls you into a crushing hug, murmuring something about how you had him so worried and he's so desperately relieved to have you back here with them all.

"What are you doing all the way over there, love?" Remus questions Sirius as he settles down next to James, fondly watching the way you smooth his curls out of your way as James buries his face in your neck.

"Didn't want to crowd them," Sirius says dryly. "Not that we all got that message." James pops his head up, blinding you with one of his million-watt smiles. 

"Am I crowding you, love?" He asks. 

"I'm alright," you respond easily, sending a smile in Sirius's direction. He stands at that, making his way over to you.

"Alright, shove off, Jamie - learn to share," is all Sirius says before he's pushing through James to get to you, Remus pulling James by the waist to sit curled up against him instead. James takes it in stride, settling with his back against the armrest and letting Remus flop against his chest. Sirius, on the other hand, is wrestling you into doing the same. He grins at James once he's got you planted on his lap, leaning against him. You only have the energy to pretend to be a little annoyed.

"Anyway," Remus begins, and all three of you soften at the lulled, sleepy quality that's taken over his voice as he melts against James's chest - you all know it's a lethal position to be in. "What was it that we heard about you not being pretty enough, dove?" You huff and James pouts sympathetically.

"I'm too pretty, I guess. That's the problem." Sirius laughs at your words, smoothing a hand over your hair when the abrupt movement of it jostles your head against his chest.

"I'll keep telling you, love - we're willing participants in this. You're not conning us into anything," he insists. You mumble out a whatever and sink further into his embrace. James nudges your leg with his foot and Remus catches you by the ankle when you go to kick back, rubbing soothing circles into the skin there.

"Our sweet baby," James coos. "You're a precious little thing, aren't you?"

"Shut up," you quip back, your voice muffled against Sirius's chest. He rubs a firm hand up and down your back and drops gentle kisses onto the crown of your head.

"I admire your confidence, lovely," Remus murmurs, his hand smoothing up and down your calf. "But I promise you haven't bewitched us against our will."

"Nah," Sirius whispers against your hair. "You've only bewitched us because we begged. So really, we're the ones who caught you." You smack Sirius's chest at his words and he grins, holding you tighter against him. "Go to sleep, doll. I promise we'll still be right here when you wake up."

"Because we'll still be under your spell," James supplies. You sigh wearily.

"Please shut up," you beg. They take no notice.

[daenysx]

Hi! Do you have any headcanons for what Remus would be like sexually? Like what he likes in a partner, what he likes in bed or how he would react to his partner flirting with him etc?

Just something that I was wondering haha 😄💚

hello! thank you for sending this, i hope you enjoy ♡ (this is for remus's birthday celebration if you wanna check)

nsfw headcanons for remus lupin

well, firstly i'd like to think remus is a huge flirt, he'll tease you cruelly and has the audacity to act all innocent like he hasn't done anything.

but the truth is he knows his effect on you, he doesn't hesitate to use it especially if he's in the mood (which is basically all the time except full moon haha)

i think he likes every part of you, he knows how to make you feel loved and appreciated as well, he is gentle and honest with you. every time he looks at you, he finds a new thing to admire.

but- if we really have to choose a favorite spot for him- i'd say your neck and your cunt. yeah, i know it sounds a bit wild but this is remus lupin we're talking about so-

anyway, i believe he likes neck kisses, giving and recieving. he likes to bite the spot under your ear gently, only hard enough to mark there.

he really likes to mark you, really. he's possesive and he makes a great work of sucking all the right spots on your neck and collarbones to paint your body.

he loves the sounds you make when he uses his teeth on your skin. he always gives you a smile that wrecks you, and pays extra extra attention to your neck area when he's fucking you.

before i say anything about what he likes during sex, i wanna add how he likes your tummy. i think he loves putting his head there, just falling asleep to your fingers as they wander in his hair. he is just cute about it, he mumbles how he'll not fall asleep but then two minutes later you hear him snoring lightly.

okay, so if we're ready, we can get to the part which we talk about how our beloved moony acts in bed.

i think there's like two different types of sex with remus (besides quickies).

first one is like; so so sweet! i mean he's not rushing, he's so soft and caring. he just kisses all over your body, he makes sure he touches every part of you. he even spends too much time on making out with you before he starts doing anything.

it's all vanilla.

we can easily say remus is big and he always makes sure to prepare you to not hurt you.

he's obsessed with not hurting you, he doesn't want you to feel the wolf side of him and even though it sometimes feels like a wild fantasy to play with, he just wants it to stay as a fantasy and nothing more.

he is being all careful, he falls in love with the sounds you make, he whispers endearments to your ear ever so lovingly. "there's my sweet girl, did you like it? oh, i can feel how much you like it, are you close, darling? you can come for me, anytime you want."

he wants to make you come every, every time. and not just once.

he's an ambitious bastard (i love him so much)

okay, now the second type of sex.

i think especially before full moon, he's kind of full of this energy and possesiveness, he tends to be harder and faster.

but by fast i don't mean like rushing to finish quicker. "you didn't think we're done here, did you pretty girl? surely you must know this is not enough." he just does it by moving faster and deeper.

he plays with you relentlessly.

he has no shame about what he wants to do to you.

he eats you out like a man starved, he plays with your clit until you cry out his name, he fucks you like this is the last day of his life.

when you finish neither of you have the energy to lift a finger; just two sweaty, exhausted bodies on the bed.

so without too much details, i think that's pretty much it.

and about blowjobs i gotta say something

i think remus likes getting blowjobs from you usually but especially when his head is stuck on something, when there's a problem he can't figure out, when he just wants to distract himself and forget about the world

yes.

and he smokes while you suck him off, that's- like- it has to be true.

one last thing

he likes when you tease him, or when you're being a flirt but i guess he has to be in the right mood to fully enjoy it

i don't know i just feel that way

bonus; he likes eating you out, he likes biting the soft flesh of your thighs, he likes how your wetness coats his lips, he's obsessed with your cunt at some point.

playful spanks as you do something in front of the kitchen counter.

he tastes like coffee and cigarettes, this is like canon i think.

he is the perfect loverboy and he knows what he's doing in bed or out of the bed. (except when he's losing his mind sometimes but that's okay, we're all humans)

[moonstruckme]

hey! could i request a james potter x reader fic pls?? i have been thinking about him specifically non stop and now i just wanna be domestic and cute with him-

Me too lovely :')

James Potter x fem!reader ♡ 661 words

You’ve told James that you’re painting your toenails on the kitchen counter because it has good light, but he knows it’s really because you want to be near him. He’ll have to clean the counter again after you go, but he’s not complaining. He wants you near him too. 

And anyway, the kitchen does have good light. It streams in through the window to tangle in your hair and glance off your skin, illuminating the concentrated set to your mouth as you bend over your foot on the counter. 

James kisses you lightly, and one corner of your lips quirks up like you’re trying to stop it but can’t quite manage. You taste sweet and a bit tart. 

“Don’t mess me up,” you warn. “This is my last coat, it’s do or die.” 

“Stop eating my blackberries,” he counters, “and we’ll see. No promises.” 

You finish with your nails, setting the brush back in the polish and nabbing another blackberry from his bowl. James gasps, betrayed though not surprised. He pinches your side.

You laugh, leaning away from him fruitlessly. “Stop, I’m going to knock polish onto the rug!”

“You could at least vary your snacking,” James says. “My fruit salad is going to have hundreds of pieces of melon and two blackberries if you keep on like this.” 

“I just like blackberries best.” 

“So does Remus,” he chides with no real severity. “And when he gets here later today and they’re all gone, who do you think will be blamed?”

You bat your eyelashes at him, smiling angelically. “He doesn’t need to know there were going to be blackberries in here to begin with, does he?” you ask. The hope in your voice sparkles like sunshine off the ocean. 

James caves instantly at that tone, but he pretends to take at least a second to mull it over before capitulating. “Fair enough. Have at them, lovie. Leave no trace.” 

You descend like a hawk upon your prey, clawing through the bowl of fruit and popping blackberry after blackberry into your mouth. 

“I’m thinking of going to the store in a bit,” you say. 

James grins down at his cutting board, slicing the skin off a wedge of cantaloupe. “To replenish Remus’ blackberry supply?” he asks. He knows you’re too tenderhearted to truly rob his friend of something he enjoys; you’d be racked with guilt for the rest of the night. 

“To get lemons for lemonade.” You touch your big toe delicately, testing the dryness of your polish. “And if I stumble upon blackberries that look good while I’m there…” You shrug, turning away from him like you think you can hide your smile. As if he can’t hear it in your voice. “Then maybe I’ll grab some. To keep the peace.” 

James reaches over and grips your foot, channeling as much love as he can fit into a good squeeze. You gasp and nearly shriek when his thumb digs into a ticklish spot on your arch, grabbing onto his shoulder to keep from tipping off the counter. He sets a hand on your side to help, and he can feel your ribs shaking as you laugh. 

“Sorry, sorry,�� James laughs. “I forgot about that spot.” He didn’t. “Wait for me to finish and we’ll go together, yeah?” 

Your nose scrunches with your smile. “Why, you wanna keep an eye on the blackberries?” 

“I was thinking we’d just get extra,” he proposes. 

You hum contentedly, and he takes the invitation to get further into your space, his hip bumping against your leg. “That’s very chivalrous of you,” you reply, your teasing softened by fondness. 

“Well, I do try. Pretty girls need to be kept happy, yeah?” 

You laugh again, grabbing James’ face in both hands. He knows when you let go, there’ll be sticky purple fingerprints on both of his cheeks. He doesn’t mind. 

“Flirt,” you accuse. 

James pushes forward until his nose is pressed up against yours. “Only for you.” 

[sweetiecutie]

Pairing: Remus Lupin x fem! Reader

Warnings: NSFW, fingering, praising, remmy being a bit of a meanie but also absolutely lovely, public sex and exhibitionism but not really?,

Synopsis: Remmy fingering you in his bed with curtains drawn while all the boys are in the dorm as well, so you better be quiet, don’t you?

A/n: it’s my birthday today!!!🥳🎂 happy bday to me and have this lil treat<3 I really hope you like this lil thing

You and Remus were huddled up on his soft bed, numerous blankets and duvets are scattered everywhere, keeping two of you warm and comfy. Thick heavy curtains were drawn all around the bed, painting everything inside their confines deep scarlet, securely concealing both of you from the noise and havoc that usually reigned in boys’ dormitories.

You were laying on your sides facing each other, your leg thrown over Remus’ hips, head laying comfortably on his shoulder. His arm, that you were laying on, was curled protectively around your shoulders, big warm hand rubbing your back up and down soothingly.

You couldn’t help a small whimper that escaped your lips, but, thankfully, James was wailing so loudly about a new rare card that he got in chocolate frog that his booming voice successfully concealed all of your small sounds. Remus’ fingers kept sliding in and out of your drenched with slick pussy, thumb nudging swollen needy clit persistently, making you shake and writhe around in his arms.

- Now, pretty girl, I told you to be quiet. This time we got lucky, but we don’t want boys to hear what a little slutty thing you are, do we? - Remus murmured softly, his voice low so that only you can hear him. He pressed his lips against the heated skin of your forehead, leaving a chaste kiss there.

You only buried your face into the cozy crook of Remus’ shoulder, his comforting scent hit your nose - he smelled of fresh laundry, fluffy blankets and something sweet that you couldn’t quite decipher - he smelled like home. You wrapped your arms tighter around his neck, bringing yourself even closer to his hot body.

- Spread your legs a bit wider for me… yeah, just like that. Such a smart little thing, aren’t you? - Remus cooed against your ear as you readjusted your position a bit, sliding your leg higher up boy’s torso, increasing by that the gap between your thighs.

You smiled at his praise, leaving a few wet kisses on the side of his neck, nibbling gently on soft skin there but not enough to leave a mark, knowing how much boy disliked that. You could barely contain a moan as Remus increased the speed of his fingers fucking into you, new angle allowed him to reach even deeper inside. Your moth fell open in a silent moan, eyes shutting tightly and you heard Sirius’ roaring laughter and some repetitive hollow thudding, assuming that James and Peter must have started a vicious pillow fight.

Remus’ fingers curled a bit, massaging your frontal wall oh so deliciously, making you jolt harshly at pleasurable feeling.

- Easy, doll. I’ve got you, - Remus tutted into your hair, you could practically hear that well-known shit-eating grin in his voice.

The new positioning of his fingers allowed Remus to strokes you in all the right spots, you felt your orgasm nearing rapidly, heavy pleasure spilling in the bottom of your stomach. You leaned closer into your boyfriend, your hips moving ever so slightly in tandem with his fingers, trying to intensify the feeling.

- Remmy, ‘m really close, - you mewled weakly, words muffled because of your face squished against boy’s warm chest.

- I know, baby, just let it go. C’mon, cum on my fingers, make me proud, - Remus encouraged, his voice was dripping honey, which, doubled with his constant praise and nimble fingers fucking into you so good, sent you right over the edge.

Your eyes rolled back at the intense feeling of raw pleasure spreading through your body in crashing waves, white stars filled your vision. Your hands were grabbing desperately onto Remus’ soft sweater, teeth sank into your bottom lip, trying your hardest to suppress all of sweet moans and cries.

Remus rode out your orgasm, never stopping to fuck his long fingers into your sweet pussy, his other hand rubbing your back and shoulders, whispering sweet nothing into your flushed ear. He only stopped when you started wriggling your hips, trying to get away from his now painful caressing against your overstimulated sex.

He carefully pulled his fingers out, bringing them up to his face and burying his sticky with your slick digits in his warm mouth, sucking and lapping at your juices with immense pleasure. You flushed deeply, smacking Remus’ chest playfully and muttering quiet ‘pervert’ under your breath, causing boy to chuckle airily. He put his now clean fingers away from his mouth, leaning forward to slant his wet lips over yours, kissing you long and lazily, completely taking your breath away.

You broke off first, silver string of saliva was connecting your mouths, Remus eyes shining prettily in a dim light. Your shaky hand came to tuck a string of his soft sandy hair behind his pierced ear, thumb caressing chiseled cheekbone affectionately. Remus leaned in to place yet another kiss on your pretty lips but was stopped half-way by loud cracking sound and heavy cussing:

- Holy fucking shit, Prongs! McGonagall’s gonna fucking skin us alive for this! - Sirius’ panicked, but still more excited voice shrieked, you rushed to put your underwear and pajama pants back on before peeking your head out of crimson curtains, curious to see what had happened.

In the center of a room James, Sirius and Peter were all standing looking extremely disheveled and panting heavily, pillows clutched tightly in their hands. They all were staring at the floor where you spotted a huge hole a size of a quaffle, loud ‘what the fuck’ coming from the inhabitants of a room below. You heard Remus groan behind you, string of heavy expletives rolling off his tongue as he scrambled out of bed, racking his brain for possible ways to fix the breakage without teachers being involved.

James caught your eyes, shrugging silently, keeping unnaturally quiet, not wanting to get on Remus’ nerves when he was so angry. Sirius standing beside him could barely suppress his laughter, clutching his pillow to his chest in attempt to ground himself in any way possible. Peter’s face was completely blank, eyes wandering all around the dorm as if nothing ever happened, swaying from side to side lightly.

At the end of a day, they managed to fix the hole in the floor and all three of them got a smack on the back of the head from extremely querulous Remus.

Likes, reblogs and comments are highly appreciated, they inspire me on creating even more content for you💖

[engie-ivy]

(Vacation fic because I'm currently on vacation!)

584 words

Remus is allowed to be a little foolish; he's on vacation after all, and he can lose his head a little over the gorgeous host of their chambre d'hôtes.

Chambre d'Hôtes Host

“How was everything?”

“Just great, love,” Hope replies, dapping her mouth with her napkin. “Simply lovely. You spoil us, doesn't he, Remus?”

“Y- yeah,” Remus stammers a bit once he's faced with the blinding smile of the incredibly handsome host of their chambre d'hôtes. He chuckles awkwardly. “I'm afraid the croissants and baguettes back in Wales will never be good enough for me anymore.”

Sirius grins. “That's how I get you to come back,” he says teasingly.

If Remus were a more self-assured man, he could almost convince himself the other man was flirting.

“So,” Sirius asks. “What are the plans for today?”

“We're planning to go to Vaison-la-Romaine,” Hope answers. “Visit the market and walk around the ancient town.”

“Lovely,” Sirius says. “Let me give you some addresses of good places to eat, and a patisserie with the best selection of pastries. Do try their financiers. If you say you're friends of Sirius', you might get a discount.”

“Thank you, love. You're such a dear,” Hope says.

“Anything for my favourite guests,” Sirius replies with a wink.

It would be foolish of Remus to think the wink is mostly directed at him. Sirius is just playing the perfect host, charming his guests, and being very effective at that, as Remus is well and utterly charmed.

But hey, Remus is allowed to be a little foolish; he's on vacation after all, and he can lose his head a little over the gorgeous host of their chambre d'hôtes.

“You have to forgive an old woman for her curiosity,” Hope says, as Sirius comes to refill their wine glasses that evening. “But how did a Londoner end up hosting a chambre d'hôtes in a chateau in the Provence?”

“Well, I was studying Business and Economics in London,” Sirius replies. “And I did not even know my family had this chateau in its possession, but then my uncle passed away and he left it to me. I traveled here after I finished my first year of studying, with the intent to sell it in hopes I could use the money to maybe buy a two-bedroom apartment in London.” Sirius laughs like the idea of trading in the chateau and its sprawling garden with attached vineyards for an apartment in London is just ridiculous, and quite frankly, it is. “But when I stayed here for the summer, I fell in love and I never left,” Sirius shrugs.

“Oh,” Hope rests her chin on her hand. “Do you run this business with your partner?”

Remus both curses and blesses his mother's curiosity.

“With the chateau,” Sirius quickly says. “I fell in love with the chateau, the villages and the surroundings. I fell in love with the overall ambiance of this place, not with a person. I'm single.” His eyes briefly dart over to Remus. “Very single.”

“You can really imagine it, can't you?” Hope sighs, as Remus joins her on the attached balcony of their room the next morning. She's looking out over the rolling hills with their scattered vineyards, and the village in the distance of which the houses are slowly painted golden in the first light of the rising sun. “Coming here, falling in love, and never leaving.”

“Yes,” Remus replies, but when Hope looks at him, he isn't looking at the beautiful view over the hills at all. Instead, his gaze is fully fixed on Sirius down below, crossing the garden carrying a basket of bread, his dog happily trailing behind him. “Yes, I really can.”

[milunalupin]

hi hi hi! so many congrats on a 100 followers, what a deserved accomplishment, love!!

you can obviously ignore this if you're uncomfortable writing this/or this doesn't hit your creative spot. because this is so cliched uggh.

okay so i was thinking maybe a little grumpy!reader x sunshine!sirius, friends to lovers trope? (it makes so weak in the knees 🫠.) feel free to take the plot literally anywhere your heart desires, because you'll serve either ways!!

love you, make sure to drink water and eat good. hope you have a great day/night ahead.

--🍁autumn

hi hi my love ! thank you for you patience <3 and adding more sirius to my blog

— sunshine

sunshine!sirius x grumpy!reader ★ 1.2k words

"Sirius Black if you don't stop tapping your finger against the table, I will not hesitate to hex you."

You sent a glare towards the raven haired boy from across the table. History of Magic was your worst subject and you had a big exam coming up. "Why aren't you with the other boys anyways?"

It's not like you two weren't friends, but Sirius wasn't usually the one to seek you out. It was usually Peter since he was the one who introduced you to his friends, then Remus who at times also enjoyed his peace and quiet. You spent quite a bit of time with the girls too, especially since you all roomed together. James and Sirius had always been friendly with you, but it wasn't like you would stay up in the common room sharing secrets, although Sirius had recently been around you more than than normal.

"Well aren't you just a ray of light." Sirius sent you a lopsided grin, setting his elbows on the table and resting his head on his hands. "They're out somewhere with Prongs looking for Evans, and I wanted to see my favorite girl."

Your quill froze over the parchment. Sirius was such a flirt, you couldn't take anything he said to you to heart, because he didn't mean it, right? You lowered your head and tried to focus on your notes, pretending like you didn't hear him.

"Anyways," he chuckled awkwardly, scratching the back of his neck. "You know about his problem with Evans, and you're a girl, could you give me some advice to relay back to him?"

"Thanks for noticing. What kind of advice?"

"Well, what sort of things do girls like to receive?"

"I don't know Sirius, I don't regularly receive gifts from boys." You rolled your eyes and scoffed, glancing up at him to see his eyes on you, waiting for an answer. "but I supposed I would quite like it if someone brought me my favorite drink, or book. You know, it shows that they've paid attention to the little things."

"So how would you- girls-" he let out a shaky laugh, his cheeks tinged pink. "How would girls like to be asked on a date?"

How would you know? You didn't want to speak negatively of yourself but there had to be some reason as to why boys never came up to you. You would never guess that it was because Sirius had already warned the whole male population at Hogwarts to back off his very pretty friend.

Groaning quietly, you rubbed your hands over your tired face. "Sirius, I don't know, can you please let me review my notes in peace?"

"That doesn't count, you're not being fair." Peter whined, pulling on his hair as he looked down at the chessboard. You shrugged and stuck your tongue out at the boy, getting up and taking a seat on the carpet by the fire next to Lily.

It was the night before your exam and as much as you wanted to hole up in your room and cram, your friends had convinced you to spend time with them. Lily was painting Marlene's fingernails while Remus took your place playing against Peter in chess.

"Who wants hot chocolate!" James called out, Sirius and him walking towards you all with trays of steaming mugs. The two passed out the sweet beverages,

"Thanks Sirius." you thanked him softly, his gaze softening as you wrapped your hands around the warm drink and blew gently on the top. Your eyes brightened as you took a sip and tasted a hint of peppermint.

The rest of the evening was spent playing games, dancing to Remus' new records and sharing Peter's surplus of sweets from Honeydukes. You felt your shoulders relax as you looked around at your friends having a good time, catching Sirius already looking you. His eyes darted away as soon as you saw him, the corners crinkling as he laughed as some joke James had made. You felt a nudge in your side, turning to see Lily cocking her head towards the dorms asking if you were ready to go. Nodding, the three of you girls stood up and waved goodnight to the Marauders and shuffled up to your room.

You flopped into bed with a blissful sigh. "Thanks for tonight guys, I needed this."

Marlene waved her hand in dismissal. "You've studied hard, you needed a bit of a break."

"The peppermint hot chocolate was just the thing I needed, it's my favorite."

"Peppermint hot chocolate?" Lily's nose scrunched with disgust, but then her eyes widened with realization, her and Marlene sharing a knowing grin. "Right, the peppermint hot chocolate."

You turned your head to squint at them. "Why do you two have that look on your faces?"

"We don't know what you're talking about, goodnight!"

You're going to pass the exam, you're to going to p—

"Watch it, you half-breed, or I'll turn you into the little mutt you are." Lucius Malfoy spat at you as you ran into him, pulling out his wand.

"Oh sod off, why don't you put your daddy's money where your mouth is?" you scoffed, reaching for your own wand. He sneered at your comeback, taking a step closer to you.

"Hey sunshine, I was looking everywhere for you! Let me walk you to class." Sirius appeared next to you, taking your school bag and slinging it over his shoulder, shooting a grin to Lucius, canines on full display. "Thanks for watching her for me Malfoy but next time, don't."

Sirius steered you away from the fuming Slytherin, arm around your shoulder. He ducked his head down to speak to you quietly. "You alright?"

"Fine, boys are just jerks." you grumbled, your mind now focusing on your exam as you two turned into the hall where your classroom was located.

"Not all of us though, right?"

The corner of his mouth lifted, your smiled mirroring his own. "Yeah, Pete's alright."

"You're killing me doll." He threw his head back dramatically, his smile slipping as yours did, now standing in front of the History of Magic classroom. "Hey, how about we made a deal?"

"Huh?" you pulled yourself out of a daze, looking up at him. "What's the deal?"

Sirius coughed to the side and straightened his posture. "You get an Outstanding on your exam, and I'll take you out."

A flush crept up your face, not believing your ears. As annoying as he was, of course you had thought about Sirius romantically before, who hadn't? You really hoped your studying paid off, your smile and voice coming out shy. "What if I don't get an Outstanding?"

Sirius lit up like the Great Hall during the holidays, smiling ear to ear. "Then I'm still taking you out to cheer you up. I also have just been dying to take you on a date, sunshine."

An hour later you left the classroom with a giant smile on your face and a big 'O' on your parchment. Sirius immediately took your hand in his and dragged you to Hogsmeade for your first date, the twinkling sound of your laughter letting him know it wouldn't be your last.

[reguluswife28]

Hi☁️!

Can you write something about how the Sirius, James, Remus and Lily try to get close to Slytherin reader (who is really shy and muggleborn). They decide to try through a prank, since with Lily worked but instead they angered Regulus (the reader's only close friend) for making her cry. They decide to change their approach: complimenting her, reading with her and watching Muggle films. After some hesitation, the reader decides to give it a chance. (I hope it's okay for you to write about Lily too, I haven't seen many posts here on Tumblr involving her, although I think it comes up with something super cute☺️). The rest is up to you 🤍

Ps. The marauders and Lily are already in a relationship with each other

Thank you for requesting this! I had a lot of fun writing it!<3

-

Warnings: prank taken too far?

-

Chances

-

Have you ever been scared of something so much the sight of it makes you want to cry?

Well I am. To be specific, I'm scared of Doxy's. They're nasty little creatures that could kill you with their venom quickly.

The only reason why I had an encounter with these creatures once is because I may or may not have walked far too deep into the forbidden forest one day but thankfully my closest and only friend Regulus Black was there to save me before anything happened.

I shook my head out of my thoughts about the creature's as I sat at the Slytherin table. Right after that Regulus sat down next to me.

It was dinner time. "What took you so long?" I asked him as we put food onto our plate. "Slytherin quidditch captain started talking to me about plays for our next game." He replied as I started to eat so I just nodded. We fell into a conversation about the books we were reading that week.

Suddenly we were interrupted by rather loud laughter coming from the Gryffindor table that was beside the Slytherin table. Regulus stopped talking looking annoyed as he looked over to the table to see his brother's obnoxious laughing. "He never shuts up I swear." Regulus muttered causing me to chuckle a little.

Soon we finished eating and both decided to go back to the Slytherin common room. “You’ll have to let me read that book you’re reading once you’re done with it.” Regulus said to me with a small smile. “The Outsiders isn’t it?” He asks as we reach the painting to the common room. “Correct.” I say then say the password to get in and we walk through into the common room.

After a quick conversation we said goodnight to each other and headed to our dorms. When I got to mine I changed into pajamas and got in bed going to sleep.

The next morning I got and opened my dresser to get my regular clothes. But, with doing that out of my dresser came doxy’s. The one thing I was terrified of.

I tried to scream for help but nothing would come out of my throat. My heart was racing and I ran from them as they started to come after me.

While running I tripped and fell over one of my books for classes. I scrambled back against the wall starting to cry and hyperventilate. They came after me causing me to put my arms up crossing them in defense which really wouldn’t do anything. I closed my eyes waiting for impact but it never came.

I lowered my arms, opening my eyes and still crying to see absolutely nothing there now. What? I could have sworn they were just there. Was it all just some allusion?

“Y/n, are you up yet? We need to eat breakfast.” Asked Regulus just walking into my dorm. I assume he hadn’t seen me so he looked around confused. As he turned his head he saw me.

Immediately getting concerned he came over to me pulling me into his arms. “What happened?” He asked in a whisper. “I..” I try to speak but my voice is hoarse. “Take your time.” He says and I smile gratefully at him.

“I went to go get my clothes for the day…” I started looking over to my dresser. “Then when I opened it I had those doxy’s flying at me and then they just disappeared like they were an allusion.” I said shaking my head as I hugged Regulus.

“Are you okay now?” He asked still with a soft voice. I nodded then got up with his help. “Do you think it was the other Slytherins playing some mean prank? Just because I’m a muggleborn?” I ask as I walk to my dresser finally grabbing my clothes. “It could have been. I’ll try to find out.” He said then walked out the room so I could change.

I changed into my clothes and brushed my hair and teeth then met Regulus out in the common room and we walked together to breakfast. When we got there sitting down at the Slytherin table the marauders including Lily Evans walked up to us looking like they were laughing.

“What could you guys possibly want?” Regulus asked in a cold voice as I got some pancakes on my plate.

“Just came here to ask Y/n a question little brother.” Sirius replied and I looked up at them confused. “How was that doxy prank?” James asked and I tensed up. It was them? How did they get into my dorm let alone the Slytherin common room?

“Oh… uh…” I started then notice Regulus seething with his nostrils flaring. “Don’t look so gloomy. It was just a prank!” Peter said and I looked at them shocked then they walked to Gryffindor table and sat down.

I turned around and quietly ate my food quickly ignoring everytime Regulus tried to start a conversation about something. After I was done eating I got up walking out of the great hall and to the astronomy tower to calm down and read.

Regulus POV

After my stupid older brother and his friends or whatever they all are said they were the ones who pulled the prank on Y/n I was angry. I tried to talk to her throughout all of breakfast but she ignored me and when she was done she got up and walked off somewhere.

I though waited until the supposed pranksters got up and walked out to follow them. Following them down the hallway once we were far enough away from any teachers I quickly grabbed Sirius by the collar slamming him against the wall.

“Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t hex you right this second.” I seethed angrily pointing my wand at his throat. “Woah! Why the hell are you so angry?” He asked giving a confused look. “That little ‘prank’ you pulled on Y/n made her have a panic attack!” I spat at him letting him go but still holding my wand to my side.

“It what?” Asked Remus now looking panicked. “It was just supposed to be a little prank. I swear!” Sirius barked out quickly. The rest of them looked shocked. “We all like her and didn’t think the prank would cause all of that.” Lily said with concern lacing her tone.

“She’s absolutely terrified of doxy’s. She almost got attacked by real ones once.” I said now calmly but still slightly angry.

“How can we make it up to her?” Asked Peter quietly. “Well, if you really liked her you’d know she liked muggle books and movies. She may be up in the astronomy tower right now. She likes to read there.” I say walking off to the Slytherin common rooms.

Y/n’s pov

As I flipped the page in my book I was almost finished with I heard footsteps coming up the steps to the tower.

“Y/n?” I heard the voices of none other than the marauders and Lily ask. I close my book after bookmarking it and stand up to face them. “What?” I ask tiredly waiting for them to probably start tormenting me. “We’re sorry for the prank.” Lily said first and the others all had an apologetic face. “We truly are.” Remus said.

“The truth is.. we all like you and thought a prank would show that.” James told me and I tilted my head confused. “We were obviously wrong. Regulus made sure we knew of that.” Sirius said rubbing his neck awkwardly.

“We’re asking for another chance possibly?” Peter asked and I scoffed. “You prank me with the thing I’m terrified of most and ask for another chance? You’re going to need to make it up to me first before I ever decide if you even get that.” I tell them in a slightly upset and annoyed tone.

“We will.” They all say in unison.

“You like the outsiders?” Lily asks pointing to my book and I give a half smile. “It’s my favorite book and movie.” I inform her.

“Would you want to watch muggle movies with us today? To make up for what we did?” James asks and I nod. “Well let’s go!” Sirius says loudly throwing his arm around me. I manage to let out a little chuckle and lead the way to my dorm room.

When we got there I set up a place for us to all sit/lay and put in a muggle movie for us to watch. We watched quite a few muggle movies and joking around causing me to get tired so I ended up leaning my head on Lily’s shoulder stifling out a yawn.

They all weren’t that bad really and I forgive them for what happened. They all looked truly sorry when apologizing. “I think I’ll give you guys a second chance after all.” I say tiredly then end up falling asleep.

Sorry if the end felt rush I’ve been up for a while writing this!!

My masterlist!

[jamespottersdaisy]

Sweet Nothing

Remus Lupin x fem!reader

And the voices that implore, "You should be doing more."

To you, I can admit that I'm just too soft for all of it.

based on a request

content- fluff, sickness, hurt/comfort?, established relationship.

3.2k

author's note- this is actually several blurbs put into one fic, no use of y/n, english is not my first language so beware <3

You feel a hand on your lower back, guiding you through the throng in the Quidditch Pitch to the castle. Raising your head, your eyes catch Remus's soft but rapt expression. His eyebrows are furrowed, his eyes opting for the best way to get you from the packed crowd with the least malaise.

You don't bother to speak; most probably, he won't hear you. Hell, you don't even hear your own thoughts in all this ruckus. However, you would always hear his calm and tender tone.

"This way, dove."

You let your body comply with his hand on your back.

"You guys are a menace," your disapproving timbre curls up his lips into a subtle smile, one that he tries to hide from you. "And I don't believe for a second that you had nothing to do with this."

He chuckles, his brown eyes catching yours for a moment. "I was with you the whole time, wasn't I?"

"They're not brilliant enough to think of a way of hexing the whole–" Your words are cut off when Remus pulls you to his right. You stumble from the sudden shove, feeling his tight grip on your arms.

You see a group of brooms whooshing from where you were standing only seconds before. "What are they doing?"

"Bastards," Remus mutters, agitated that they almost knocked you out.

"Your fault. You shouldn't have given them a reason to celebrate."

You know you are wrong; of course, the Gryffindor players would celebrate with or without the Marauder's prank on the opposite team. However, a little compunction wouldn't hurt. 

"It's not my fault that I'm a mastermind," Remus grins, pulling you closer by the waist. You can hear the cheerful shouts and music from afar, knowing that James is probably capering around, frisking on Sirius or Peter. 

"Should we go and celebrate with them?" you ask Remus, even though you despise the hubbub, everyone pushing and pulling others, stumbling to one another, hurting each other's toes. Who needs that? You can very well express your cheers in the common room celebrations. And Remus knows you well enough.

"No, we'll see them in the common room," he says, holding your hand tightly. "Are you hungry?"

"We just ate."

"Do you want snacks? I can get some from the kitchens if you do."

You chuckle at his tone, so soft but also pampering you. "Are you hungry? You certainly sound like you want something to eat."

"You?"

"Remus!" you elbow him, blush painting your cheeks. He laughs, a sound that manages to flutter chords in your heart no matter how many times you hear it. He brings your hand–which is entangled between his fingers– to his lips and places a tender peck on it.

"I'll bring you some chocolate from the kitchens."

That is how you know he craves chocolate.

"You two should break up."

"Come again?"

"I said, break up for a day, you're making Prongs sad," Sirius repeats shamelessly at you, going through a cookie bowl.

Remus is ambling down the stairs with a book in his hand. A book which he uses to smack Sirius on the head. He winces, scowling at your boyfriend.

"Prongs being sad is none of our business."

You let Remus sit on the sofa and put your head on his lap. Under a mere second, another hand, belonging to James, plunges into the bowl. 

"No matter what I do, Evans won't go out with me on Valentine's Day," he continues to inspect every cookie meticulously, looking for the right one. Your heart aches at the sight, and you decide that enough is enough. You snatch the bowl under his hand and lay back on Remus's lap with the cookies on your stomach. Remus smiles at the sight of you, his hand roaming through your hair.

"Stop sampling the cookies with your filthy fingers."

"They're my only comfort. Give them back," James attacks, ready to grab the bowl back, but Remus's hands stop him. He playfully swats James's hand away from the bowl. 

"She's eating them."

You grin at James, visibly smug about your boyfriend's demeanour. "I am eating them, Potter."

"You haven't touched them since Peter brought them from the kitchens."

"I will eat them, Potter."

You don't comprehend what happens next, or you simply don't remember. Maybe James groans and leaves your side, or Sirius starts teasing you again. Who knows? You just feel Remus's fingers tousling between strands of your hair. 

"What are you doing?" you whisper, a tiny smile adorning your lips.

"Braiding your hair," he drawls, his eyes glancing at your lips before averting back to your hair. 

"You know how to braid?"

Remus chuckles, shaking his head. "No, but I'm learning right now."

"By ruffling my hair?"

"I'm not ruffling, dove. I'm braiding."

"No, you're definitely ruffling. I can feel it."

"I'll comb them later tonight. Sounds good?" you smirk at his raised eyebrows, hearing your heart singing. Moments like this are what soothe your worries and take away the weight on your shoulders for that week. His quiet whispers and tender touch, adoring tone and smiling eyes always manage to find their path to your heart, warming it in an instant.

"Will you also bring me milk and kiss me goodnight?"

He smiles, bringing one hand to your chin. His thumb caresses the skin and journeys to your lips.

"If that's what you want."

You roll your eyes at him, taking his hand from your face in your hand. You start to fiddle with his fingers, oblivious of the beam in his countenance. You love playing with Remus's hand. They are larger than yours, as Remus enjoys pointing out with every chance he gets, but also so soft. 

Your eyes forcefully move from your intertwined hands to Remus's brown eyes. In a few seconds, your mind feels his finger resting under your chin. You gaze at him with confusion and affection as he leans in and puts his lips before yours. He doesn't kiss you, merely placing his lips inches away from yours. You know he is waiting for you. 

You smile for a moment, your warm breath hitting his lips. You know it puts him on the edge when you josh him, his breathing getting heavier, the black in his eyes widening.

But you relish it more than anything.

"Don't tease, dove," he whispers, and you can feel the anticipation in his tone.

You giggle, your smile growing against his, your fingers running through the hair on his neck. You don't torture him any more, crashing your lips to his. You let out an amused breath when you feel Remus return the kiss in a second, his hands wandering your body.

No matter how long you've been together or how many times he has kissed your lips, it is the same feeling every time. The burn in your core, the desire for more and the joy of his touch. You are too familiar with all these sensations, and yet you welcome them every time with a smile on your face.

"Get a room!"

You are familiar with Sirius's shriek, too.

Your throat burns with pain, your nose itching with an urge to sneeze, which never comes. You know for sure that you look terrible in your bed, with dishevelled hair, a red nose and swollen eyes. However, all this doesn't seem to phase Remus even a bit. 

"You're a mule."

He is annoyed and maybe slightly worried. His eyebrows are furrowed, and displeasure has gained a seat on his visage. He is staring at you with irritated eyes and a scowl beside your bed.

"And you're rude," you say, barely managing to raise your voice from a whisper. It's not your fault that your throat hurts when you talk.

"Dove, let's just go to Madam Pomfrey."

"For a cold?"

Remus groans, sitting next to you. He puts one hand on your right thigh before speaking again.

"You'll have a fever if you keep up like this."

"I'm fine, stop worrying," you say, even though you're happy that he does.

You're happy that he worries for you and cares for you. You're happy that he never leaves your side or your hand. You're happy that even though he rarely uses the words, he still manages to tell you he loves you with actions.

You don't need to hear it. You never need to hear it; Remus makes sure that you can feel it.

"You know I can't do that," he shakes his head, persistent with his efforts. "And you know I can't take care of you all by myself."

You chuckle at his words. For the last seven hours, he's been bringing you warm soup, making sure you're hydrated enough, and he hasn't let you stand up for even a second.

"You've done well so far," you smile despite the ache in your temples. "Remus, it's just cold. I'll be fine in the morning, especially with your pampering."

You don't see the point in visiting the hospital wing for a seasonal cold; it seems like overreacting. Remus, on the other hand, seems distraught seeing you in pain. He doesn't want to agree; you can see it on his face, but he agrees anyway. 

"It would help if you took a warm shower, you know."

You smile at him, knowing damn well that he wouldn't let you get on your feet without his help.

"Maybe."

Remus nods several times, immediately rising to his feet. "I'll run a shower for you."

You watch him sprint to the bathroom, and the next thing you hear is the water running. You are lucky that your roommates are not in your dorm room today. Or maybe you're unlucky that you got sick on Saturday.

You slowly start getting out of bed, your head throbbing. Remus comes back and helps you get to the bathroom. In reality, he merely follows you from place to place, as you're perfectly capable of walking. 

"You're acting like I'm a toddler," you laugh at his concern, which earns you a frown. 

"You are a toddler. Why else would you refuse to go to the hospital wing?"

"Because I'm fine," you grin, getting out of your clothes. Remus watches you, leaning against the doorframe, his arms crossed. "If you're waiting for me to ask you to join me, I'm not gonna do that."

He smirks at your tone, pushing himself off the doorframe. "I'll be there if you need me."

He leaves you alone, and you let hot water embrace your bare skin. By the end of the shower, you feel lighter and better, happy that your headache has eased a bit.

Remus waits for you in the room, and you notice that he has brought you another soup. 

"How many times do I have to drink that?" 

"Enough times for you to get better," he pushes the blanket on top of you when you lay down on the bed. "Cooperate a bit."

He takes the soup bowl in his hand and lifts the spoon. You grimace at the steam rising from the spoon.

"I'd rather not drink–"

"Open wide, the train is coming," he pushes the spoon to your lips.

"Remus!" you pull your head backwards, laughing involuntarily. "It's hot!"

"You haven't even tasted it."

"I can see from the steam."

"Fine," he groans, huffing at the spoon. "It's good now, come on."

Now that you're out of the excuses, you comply with him. Still, you pull a face when your tongue meets with the soup, albeit it is delicious. 

"It can't be that disgusting, dove."

"It is," you lie when Remus offers you another spoon, a bit of liquid dripping from your lips to your chin. 

"Let me see," he says, and before you can deny it, his lips are already on yours. 

You let out a disapproving sound from deep in your throat, even though your stomach tingles at the feeling of Remus's soft lips on yours. He pulls back an inch, but still close enough for you to feel his warm breath. 

"It was delicious," he mocks. "Liar."

"You're gonna be sick, baby," you whisper, your lips smiling a bit. 

He kisses you again, this time quicker and shorter than before. "You'll take care of me."

And you will take care of him the next morning because he definitely will be sick.

You don't feel your legs, nor do you remember how you got to the castle yard. You're in a trance, unable to hear or feel anything as you stride to a distant tree that will provide you solidarity. Anything except the suffocating weight in your lungs and the burning urge in your throat. You want to cry. You want to drop to your knees and wail, letting tears pour down your eyes, allowing the agony to leave your heart with your every cry.

But you don't cry.

You don't cry until you know you are alone. You don't cry until you are sure that no one can see you, no one can hear you. You don't cry until you are sure that you are out of everyone's sight who will pity you if they see your tears.

It feels too much. You feel too much. You feel too much, but you don't feel enough. You never feel enough. 

You run, but you never flee. You swim, but you drown. You smile, but you cry.

The moment you see the tree, your legs give in. You fall to the ground, a cry leaving your lips. You don't scream, you don't wail. You simply welcome the tears as you sit on the ground, pulling your knees to yourself.

Your mind echoes each and every word that pulls you too deep into the ocean.

"I expected more from you."

You thought you did enough.

"It's your fault."

You thought you did the right thing.

"You'll do better next time."

You thought you did better this time.

You hear your pained sob, pitying yourself. Your nails dig into your skin hard enough to leave a mark. You want to leave a mark. You want to feel something, something other than the pain burning inside your chest. 

"Dove?"

You whine at your lover's voice, so soft and tender, afraid to startle you. You don't question how he has found you. Somehow he always does.

"Go away, Remus," your tone sounds weaker than you expect, full of agony and desperation. You don't look at his face; you don't look anywhere but your hands. 

You don't want him to see your red eyes, tear-stained face and shaking hands. You don't want him to hear your heavy sobs and breathless cries. You don't want him to pity you.

"No," he sits next to you, still a bit hesitant to touch you. "What's wrong, sweetheart?"

"Go away," you cry, "please."

"I am not going anywhere, dove," he shakes his head, his eyes glancing at your hands. He knows it may backfire, and he knows you may draw up your walls even higher, but he takes the risk. He puts his hand on yours, parting your nails from your skin. 

You scrunch up your face when he kisses the skin where your nails dig deep, ready to burst into tears once more. You lower your head, refusing to let him see your pain. 

He doesn't let you. 

"Talk to me," he pleads, holding your hand close to him. "I hate seeing you cry."

Of course, he does, you think. Why would anyone want to put up with your bawling? Why would anyone want to put up with you?

You can feel the hatred poisoning your veins, darkening the light in your heart. You know this hatred, this darkness. You know who it is aimed at. You are too familiar with its burn. You know it is going to mock your weakness and insult your very being because you know you feel that hatred for none other than yourself.

When you talk, you want to drown your voice just to never hear it again.

"I'm sorry."

You don't see Remus's confused face. You don't feel his bafflement. You only hear his loving pitying tone.

"For what?" he asks and doesn't wait for your reply. "Dove, come here."

You despise your body for betraying your mind. You abhor your heart for betraying your will. You hate your frailty when it comes to Remus.

You let him hold you close to his chest, sobbing into his touch. His hands caress your hair, his lips leaving kisses on your temple as comfort. Your body trembles under his affection, the tears staining his shirt. 

"It's alright. You're alright," his tone hugs the scarred part of your soul. "I'm here."

"I'm sorry, Remus, I'm sorry–"

"What for, dove? You have nothing to be sorry about," he cuts you off, feeling that you're spiralling. "Tell me what's wrong. Tell me, we'll fix it together, yeah?"

You shake your head, clinging closer to his chest. This is the part you hate most. The part where the words line up against your tongue but don't know how to get out. Your feelings mock you, and you're afraid that if you talk, he will mock you, too.

Remus knows you. He has learned you well enough to know that you are struggling. He strokes your back, encouraging you to speak. 

"Come on, dove. You'll feel better," he kisses your hair.

"No, I- It's not.." you mumble something between your sobs, and Remus tries so hard to understand you. He waits, patiently giving you the time you need to organise your thoughts, all while embracing you tightly. 

"It's alright. Take your time."

You inhale a deep but shaky breath, your chest trembling from all the hiccups. You wish to speak, to share your pain with your lover, but it's just too heavy. So heavy that letters are like a burden to your tongue. 

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry," you don't know you're crying again until you feel teardrops on your hand. "I can't. This is it. This is all I got. It's not enough, I'm not enough."

"Hey, hey, hey," Remus pulls away, taking your face in his hands. "You're more than enough."

"No, no, I-I can't…I can't do better. I need to do better, I have to do better–"

Remus doesn't understand what you're talking about; your words don't make sense to him. All he knows is that your every tear is like a knife to his heart, your every sob is like a hit in the gut, and your every word is like a storm hitting his mind.

"You don't have to do anything. You're doing enough," he says, his heart clenching in pain at the sight of you. "Listen to me."

He puts his forehead on yours, closing his eyes. "Listen to me, dove."

He waits for you. He waits until your breathing calms down, your tears slow down, and your body stops shaking. You close your eyes, inhaling his scent.

"You're enough for me," he whispers, his hands still caressing your body. "I love you, and you're enough for me."

You feel the burn in your chest at ease, the burden in your tongue walking away. You feel your tears come to a halt, your soul finding comfort in his words. 

"I love you, too," you whisper back. 

"Then talk to me, and let me help you."

So, you talk. You tell him every word in your mind, every pain in your heart and every burden in your soul. You know he can't possibly solve all your problems or take away all your pain, but what he can do is always let you know he loves you, whether with his words or his actions.

I love Remus, I wish men were real.

Thank you for reading and please let me know what you think!

and if you please, buy me a coffee <333

[novvabee]

And They Were Roommates pt.2

Summary: part 2 and Moving In

You smelled the brewing coffee before you fully woke up. Your bed still surrounded by boxes from the moving you did all day yesterday. The boys, of course, offered help in every step of the way. You told them that it was fine, you could handle moving yourself, but they insisted. They helped you move box after box until you were fully moved into their house. Your house now. 

You sighed looking at all the work you still had to do. You had to unpack all your clothes, hang up your pictures and decorations, and put together some furniture. It was all seeming too much at the moment and you decided to push it off until later. You needed to wake up a bit more, maybe finally shower without worrying you’ll catch something.

You walk out of your room and begin down the stairs when you hear lively conversation. Reaching the bottom of the steps and turning into the kitchen, loud laughing reaching your ears. Sirius and Remus are sitting at the table, the latter sipping from a yellow mug and the former engaged in a discussion with James who was cooking eggs at the stove. Once they noticed you had entered their attention turned wholly to you. “Ah there she is!” James beamed. “How was your first night?” All three of their attention locked onto you, waiting for your reply.

You wrapped your arms around yourself, suddenly rethinking your choice of a baggy shirt and shorts. “It was good.” you squeaked out. The boys all smiled at you.

“There's coffee if you’d like,” Remus said “and there's cereal in the cupboard.”

“Oh that’s ok. I’m alright, thanks,” you said walking over and sliding into a chair next to Sirius at the little table. 

“You don't want anything? I can make you something! I can whip up some pancakes, or I can make some more eggs and bacon.” James asked.

“No, I'm sure. I don't normally eat breakfast anyway.” You said, trying not to hurt his feelings.

He snapped his head to you. “Oh no…” you hear Sirius sigh under his breath. “What do you mean you don't eat breakfast? You have to have breakfast, it’s important,” James started." You'll be hungry and you need the energy, won't you, after moving all day yesterday?”

You felt slightly like a child being lectured by their mother for not eating breakfast but Remus stepped in for you “James, mate, leave her be.”

James seemed to drop it but shook his head as if baffled why anyone wouldn’t want breakfast. You looked over to Sirius and Remus who were smirking knowingly. “It’s alright love,” said Sirius, “he’s chastised both of us for not eating as well, that’s why we have coffee now.”

You smiled and nodded, hugging your knees to your chest in the chair. You all sat in a comfortable silence for a moment until James finally sat down at the final place at the table with a plate full of breakfast. “So, what can we help with today?” he asked you.

You felt a bit surprised. You thought they would leave you to your unpacking alone, but apparently they wanted to help you through every step of the process. “Oh uh… nothing really, I just have to unpack and decorate.” you said, trying not to burden them with the task of helping you, besides they could be doing other things with their day rather than being stuck helping you again. 

“Ok well…,” James started “we can help with all that.”

“N-no, no. That would be too much I mean… you all helped so much and..,” You looked to the other two, hoping they might help bail you out again but they were looking at you the same way James was, with hope and eagerness to help. In all fairness it would be easier for them to hang up your posters and paintings, and you could use some help putting your bed frame together… Maybe they just wanted to spend time getting to know you as well.

“Ok maybe I could use a little help” you said. They warmed up instantly and it made you feel a little strange. They were so kind. Almost to a fault, and their willingness to go above and beyond to make you feel welcome, it was extraordinary. You had never lived with a group of boys before and you hadn't ever expected them to be like this, so generous. “But before we start, I would like to shower first if that’s ok?” you said.

They all nodded and agreed. “Of course,” said Sirius.

“I just,” you laughed softly “I just finally want to be able to have a warm shower, and not worry about catching any kind of sickness.”

The boys laughed with you. Sirius smirked and said “I don’t know about that, sweetheart, you share a bathroom with James. You never know what you can catch in there.” Sirius laughed. This set Remus off, throwing his head back laughing. James, offended but smiling, throwing a bit of toast at him.

“I am cleaner than both of you combined!” James hollered, turning to you “don’t listen to them.” This all made you giggle and feel a bit at ease, feeling like you were settling into the house a bit more.

You four spent the rest of the morning and afternoon in your bedroom. Sirius was helping you sort through clothes and put them away. Remus was hanging your decorations up (you made him because he was the tallest and could hang pictures higher than the other two or yourself) and James was indeed putting together your bed frame. 

“How many clothes do you own!? We've been through two boxes- IS THAT ONE ALL SHOES?!” Came from Sirius. You just laughed.

The whole day was a day full of laughter and jokes, they got to know you a little more, and you them. You asked how they all became friends and learned they went to a boarding school with each other and Lily. You all decided that Remus definitely had the coolest name, Sirius Black is cool too, has mystery and intrigue, but Remus Lupin is a name that could be written in a legendary tale. You found out that though they have a tv, they don’t really watch tv, preferring movies over tv. 

Opening up little by little and coming out of your shell ever so slightly, you thought that you could see yourself being friends with them. Real, actual friends. They were fun and funny, charming and witty. This in tandem with the kindness that they showed, you decided that you were quite happy to be living in the house indeed.

Taglist ❤️: @too-efn-old-to-be-here 

[soupandsimple]

Coach P. (with James Potter)

[ gym coach James being called out by a student for often visiting you during their art class ]

* fluff 💜

** muggle au

This was requested: see the ask here

……………………….

Knock knock knock

You looked over to the little window of your classroom door while in the middle of demonstrating to your students how to create clean, even coverage brush strokes with a paint brush and saw James Potter, the school’s gym teacher waving at you.

You smiled, held up your pointer finger informing him to give you a moment and continued on explaining the method.

“There, that easy” you said to the group of twelve year old children once you finished. “Now I want you all to practice this technique on the mosaic sheet designs you made yesterday. I’ll be coming around checking your progress in a bit,” you concluded.

As the kids stood up to gather their painting supplies from the back of the room, you went over and finally opened the door.

“Sorry for the wait” you apologized to James.

“No, no- you’re here to do your job. I have no trouble waiting around for you…here, I brought you these” he said, handing you a bag of fruit snacks that were carried in the school’s vending machines.

“Ugh, you know I can’t say no to fruit snacks” you admitted as you grabbed the bag. “I’ll just save them for later, it makes me sad to eat them with the students watching” you forced a little laugh as you set them on your desk.

“Such a thoughtful thing you are,” James half joked, half gushed.

“As are you coach Potter,” you playfully bantered back, resulting in a shared shy laugh as you each looked in different directions.

“No but seriously though James, thank you for the snacks,” you spoke in your normal tone of voice now, with a smile of gratitude on your lips.

Before James could reply, Lawrence, one of the more outspoken boys of his year, called out, “Hey coach P, why do you always come in here during our class?”

Some of the students laughed while others internally gasped and stared at each other with knowing looks, looks that told you they all speculated there was something between you and James.

“Uhh..well it’s my free period Lawrence,” James replied back as casually as he could.

“Yeah but you like always come in here, can’t you go home during your break or take a nap?”

“No, work is still work. I can’t leave the school and I certainly can’t sleep.”

“That sucks Coach…I bet you still look forward to your free period everyday anyways don’t you?” Lawrence said with three comical eyebrow wiggles.

A group of girls giggled and even you wanted to laugh at the fact that James was being called out by a twelve year old but luckily you were able to contain your lips in a subtle smile.

A red hue quickly spread across James’s cheeks as he let out an airy chuckle, “Okayyyy Lawrence, enough of that. Why don’t you get back to your work.”

Lawrence shrugged and went on about his business.

What the students didn’t know was that during the summer, James and you had been set up on a blind date by mutual friend Remus Lupin but that once you met and found out you’d be working at the same school that year, you both decided it’d be better to keep things simple and just be friends. The feelings between you two, however, were undeniable and it was really only a matter of time before you both accepted you were not meant to limit yourselves to a friendship.

“Well, I should go,” James said pointing to the door with both hands then walking backward towards it to keep an eye on you. “But oh, hey, you going to Rem’s birthday dinner tomorrow night?”

“Mhm,” you nodded.

“Good, um me too. I’ll see you there then?”

“Yeah, see you there,” you assured him happily with a little wave goodbye.

James smiled and cutely saluted you in exchange of a wave and as he walked out of the door, Lawrence eagerly shouted out …

“Have a good weekend coach P!”

… to which James pretended not to have heard and kept on his way without a look back.

Naturally though, he couldn’t help the small smile that escaped his lips as he exited, just as your lips did the same inside because you both knew you’d be getting to see each other outside of school hours for a change; and well, that certainly made for a good weekend. <3

[ellecdc]

https://vt.tiktok.com/ZSFx4A93R/

Dude in my opinion, the moonwater couple are like tidy couple? Do you get what i mean? Like they will keep everything at their place amd everything clean?

What will be their reaction if reader shows them this video and ask them if they would do the same to reader as a lesson?

It'll be cool if it can be a fic. But idk if your request is open. I just immediately went to this ask without checking it first

omg first of all - fuck that guy fr fr lolllll. Also that is such a sweet headcanon to have about moonwater - what does everyone else think? I totally agree with Regulus being super organized and tidy, but I'm not sure about Remus? Perhaps if he was with Regulus then yes, he'd be pretty tidy.

poly!moonwater x fem!reader who has hair ties and bobby pins and wears makeup

It was sort of comical the way that the three of you created some sort of spectrum of tidiness in your relationship.

Regulus was by far the tidiest of the bunch. As a matter of fact, if you didn’t see Regulus haunting the halls of your flat, you’d be hard-pressed to believe another person lived with you at all. He was so tidy, in fact, that he would often follow behind you as you tidied in order to re-tidy, though he never made a big deal about it.

“Don’t worry, mon amour, I’ll handle it. You go sit.”

He was simply just a tidy person – something that likely followed him into adulthood from his home life as a child – and he, as well as you and Remus, readily accepted that.

Remus was less tidy than Regulus but not nearly as liberal as yourself. Sometimes, you’d find Regulus picking up the odd stray half-finished cup of tea, or books that were turned face down and never returned to, but that was roughly the extent of Remus’ mess. 

Remus was what you called a piler – he had various piles of things throughout your shared home that may look random or out of place to the layperson but seemed to be the pique of organization in Remus’ mind. He was also the kind of person who would clean as he cooked and wouldn’t sit down to eat until the kitchen was cleaned up behind him.

Couldn’t be you, however. 

You were sure you seemed like chaos personified compared to your two boyfriends, always leaving a ‘trail of destruction’ behind you as Regulus once (lovingly) referred to it as. There was evidence of you everywhere – hair ties, bobby pins, half-finished drinks, books, magazines, and the likes. No one would have to wonder if you were home from work, seeing as your shoes were hastily tossed aside, your keys thrown onto the console table rather than hanging in their rightful place, your bag hung over the back of a chair, and your hair tie sitting on the kitchen table – all screaming “your girlfriend’s home!”

And though your boyfriends have occasionally taken the piss for your untidiness, it had never escalated to anything more than a “hey dove, can you come rinse your paint brushes that you’ve left in the sink” or a “amour, I don’t know where your makeup goes, can you come put this away?”

So, when you saw this video on Tiktok, you couldn’t help but ask them if they’d ever consider doing this to you to teach you a lesson. 

“‘Teach you a lesson’!?” Regulus repeated incredulously, already looking horrified and you hadn’t even shown him the video yet.

“Why…why does he have a hammer?” Remus asked cautiously.

Suffice it to say, the boys did not like the video.

“I’m not watching this.” Regulus spat and stood from his spot on the couch next to Remus rather abruptly. You momentarily felt bad for showing it to him, knowing that signs of even mild aggression like this could be triggering to someone who grew up in a tense household, but felt better when he turned to glower darkly at you, knowing then that his ire was only half-hearted. 

“Dovey,” Remus pleaded, his face looking horrified as he watched the man smash his girlfriend’s makeup. “Why…oh my god. If I ever do something like that to you, you fucking leave my arse, alright? Punch me right in the face whilst you’re at it, too.”

“Not me.” Regulus added, not making it very far after refusing to watch the video and leaning against the back of the couch to continue watching it over Remus’ shoulder. “Just kill me; put me right out of my misery if I insist on being such a miserable wanker.” 

You snorted a laugh as both boys scoffed derisively at the “I heart you” written on the mirror, Regulus looking thoroughly disgusted and Remus still seemingly horrified. 

“Oh, he loves her. I guess that makes it alright then.” He muttered sarcastically. “What’s this woman’s address? Tell her we’re sending her a gift card to…. what’s the store that you like?”

“Sephora.”

“Sephora; tell her we’re sending her a gift card to Sephora.”

You chuckled and leaned further into Remus’ shoulder. “You have to keep watching, he says he’s going to take her shopping for all new stuff after.”

This caused a pained groan to rip through Regulus’ throat as he began muttering angrily in French and finally wandering away. “Idiot absolu. On dit que ce n'est pas tous les hommes, mais il y a des hommes comme ça. Je ne peux même pas les appeler des hommes, plutôt des putains de bambins.”

“Why would you show me this?” Remus turned to look at you, his bottom lip jutting out comically. “This is making me so sad.”

“I wanted to know if you would resort to something like this because of my mess!” You defended.

“Oh, dove. You’re not messy, you’re just not as tidy as Mr. Clean-Freak over there.” He motioned towards the direction Regulus had gone with his head earning him a “you watch yourself monsieur les tas” from his boyfriend’s disembodied voice.

Remus pressed a lingering kiss to your lips and only broke away because he couldn’t stop smiling. “I would clean up after you for the rest of my life if it meant getting to keep you around.” He said proudly, and you felt your heart stutter in your chest.

“Remus.” You moaned, pressing another kiss to his lips. “So, you wouldn’t ruin my makeup for leaving it out?”

Remus scoffed and turned back to his book. “Not in a million years.”

“Come on amour! Get your jacket, we’re leaving.” Regulus called to you from the door. You could hear him jingling his car keys.

“Where are we going?” You called back.

“Sephora. I have to buy someone makeup now. If I can’t send some to the internet girl, I may as well spoil my own.” 

[gene-nine]

night at the museum (j.p x fem!reader)

hi !!! this is my first pic post so please don't bully me.

pairing: james potter x reader

synopsis: your good friend james invites you to go on an "unauthorized" trip to the museum with your friends.

warnings: not proofread :)

words: 2385

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

you knew James Potter. everyone did. 

only, you had the ‘wonderful privilege’ (as he liked to call it) of being his friend. this duty of yours involved watching quidditch games you didn’t particularly care about all that much (with Remus as decent company), struggling to pay attention in class because all this kid does is talk, and, as you’ve found yourself now, going on adventures through the city outside Hogwarts.

when James first started apparating off the Hogwarts campus with Sirius, you had told him he was an idiot and that he was going to get in trouble. after the fifth or sixth time, you became intrigued. even Remus and Peter had begun accompanying them, which meant that it wasn’t entirely the wreckless free-for-all that usually followed Sirius and James around. James hadn’t ever actually invited you to go with, but he hadn’t invited Lily, Marlene, or Mary either, so maybe it was just a guy thing. regardless, you started (not so subtly) asking James about what kind of stuff they did when they went out.

“and why are you suddenly so interested?” James chuckles quietly from beside you in potions. you were supposed to be taking notes, but you had stopped listening a while ago.

“you guys always come back so talkative and happy, i was just wondering what you got up to.” you feign being nonchalant, looking up at the chalkboard for the first time in 10 minutes and scribbling something down in your notebook. you can’t let him know that he’s been the more academically productive person between the two of you. 

“i mean, usually we just go to bars. we followed Remus to a few bookstores one time. Sirius found an antique shop he liked, bought a jacket there once,” he whispers back, still taking notes, “why? jealous you haven’t been invited?” he taunts, a shit-eating grin on his face.

“no. i was just curious.” you roll your eyes, but it’s no use. he knows you’re interested.

“what happened to ‘you’re going to get caught, James’ or ‘this is such a stupid idea, i can’t believe Remus is going along with it’?” he mocks in his best (worst) impression of you. you scoff in annoyance.

“nevermind, sorry i asked.” you raise your hands slightly in surrender. 

“we were actually going to go this weekend. Lily said there’s a cool museum out there and Remus seemed excited. wanna go?” he finally looks in your direction, raising his eyebrows with a smirk. you can’t help the smile that creeps onto your face.

“sure. but only if the other girls are invited. i don’t want to have to babysit.” you can’t let his ego get too high, knowing you wanted to go with him. he mutters back, something between a ‘mhm’ and ‘yeah right’. the rest of the lecture goes by in silence and you can finally focus, except for the incessant thump on the leg of your chair as James swings his feet (an annoying habit you’ve grown to ignore).

by the time the weekend rolls around, the museum was all you, Lily, and Remus could talk about. apparently, it opened in the early 1600s and has roughly 20,000 paintings (statistics that Lily had found in some library book). you were more excited to get out of the stuffy castle, the fall air not quite making it through the stone walls. 

James insisted upon leaving the castle at 7:00 a.m., claiming that’s the best time to apparate without McGonagall seeing you. James and Remus were at the meeting spot at 7 sharp, with you, Lily, Marlene, and Mary arriving shortly after, and Sirius and Peter getting there at 7:10. the feeling of apparating never improved. it felt as if every molecule of your being was shrunk down and shoved forwards simultaneously. even though you’re apparating by holding onto James (you have yet to learn how to on your own), you’re still terrified of getting splinched. no matter how many times he assures you it won’t happen.

you appear a few blocks away from the museum, all a part of James’ plan supposedly. as the group walks, James slows to walk beside you.

“pretty cool, huh?” that cocky grin on his face taunting a silent ‘i told you so’. he earns a gentle shove, but there’s nothing fake about your excitement. you hadn’t spent a lot of time outside of Hogwarts during the actual school year, and the fall season is certainly not disappointing. despite the early hour, there are people walking on the sidewalks in scarves and boots. some carry a warm drink in hand, and James can hardly miss the way your excitement peaks at the sight of a dog and their owner passing by. it feels more magical than the school grounds ever did. 

“it’s incredible.” you reply genuinely. you can’t even think of a banter-ish comment to respond with. James swings an arm around your shoulders casually as the group is about to cross the street towards the steps of the museum. 

“just you wait.” he whispers in your ear and you smile wide.

 one thing you hadn’t expected from a Muggle museum was security. Wizarding museums didn’t need any, all the protective measures were covered with magic-blocking spells and tracking enchantments on every person and work of art in the building. but this museum had metal detectors and security guards the moment you walked in. even though security gave the group a long look (an even longer one at Sirius), you were able to get through without any problems. once your day passes were bought, you were off. 

Lilly drags the group to go see a painting about Romeo and Juliet she had read about. it took one gross comment from Sirius about the ‘nakedness’ of Juliet before Marlene grabbed the collar of his jacket and dragged him off into another section. museum guidebook in hand, Mary leads the group to a section of landscape paintings by some artist named Francis Lynch. 

“says here he completed nearly a hundred works before his untimely death in 1825 when he was bludgeoned to death by his wife...” Peter reads from over Mary’s shoulder, “cheery.”

“she probably went crazy from all the paint fumes in the house.” James snorts from beside you, earning an elbow to the ribs. 

“hey! this one looks just like you, Prongs!” you exclaim to James, pointing at another painting of a doe in a meadow. 

“if this is your way of telling me i’m majestic and a natural beauty, then compliment taken.”

“you wish.”

you wander off, loosely following the group through the giant rooms. you stop in front of a huge painting called Orpheus and Eurydice. it depicts Orpheus reaching for a glowing Eurydice as she’s pulled back down to Hades.

“remind me how this myth goes again?” a voice asks from behind you. you turn to see James, staring up at the painting with the same look of amazement you had been showcasing a few moments prior.

“Orpheus travels to the underworld to beg Hades to let his soulmate, Eurydice, leave and return to life. Hades agrees, but only if Orpheus can lead her out without turning around to make sure she is still following.” you explain. you had always been interested in greek mythology, and James is often nosy about what you’re reading.

“and Orpheus turns around.” he adds, “i don’t understand, though. why would Hades give Orpheus a challenge he so easily could have completed? you know, if he wasn’t a loser.” you snort.

“i don’t know. i think it’s the perfect impossible challenge. Hades knew he wouldn’t have bee able to do it if it was him and Persephone. plus, if Orpheus didn’t love her enough to turn around, he wouldn’t have loved her enough to go to Hades in the first place.” you’re both silent for a moment.

“would you? turn around, i mean. if it was the love of your life.” James air quotes that last part.

“i don’t know. would you?” you turn to face him.

“i don’t know.” he responds simply. you both pause for a moment to stare up at the painting that outdates you both by centuries. you slowly shift your gaze to the boy next to you. his hair is messy from him constantly trying to fix it everytime a girl his age walks by. his Gryffindor sweater sleeves are pulled down over his hands slightly due to the low temperature in the museum. his glasses are still slightly tilted on his face from his most recent prank that pissed off the Slytherin Quidditch captain, who then punched him in the face. Pomfrey was able to fix his nose up just fine while his messed up glasses rested in his pocket. Magic could only fix them so much, so now they fit his face all weird (you still think it’s endearing). you eventually realize that you’re staring and decide you need a change of scenery.

“come on, lets go see the sculptures. i need to see something not two-dimensional.” you grab James’ hand and take off towards a staircase going upward. you practically skip up the stairs before James has to tell you to slow down. still walking hand in hand, arms swinging obnoxiously, you two peruse through the sculptures. some are abstract, and you can see James trying to figure them out, his head tilting to the side with his tongue sticking out slightly before giving up and moving to the next. you can hear Marlene and Lily yelling at Sirius for something in the room next to you, so you head in there. turns out he had tried using a transfiguration spell on a ceramic tiger. Remus, Mary, and Peter weren’t far away, assessing some sculpture made from wood and nails. you drop James’ hand and skip over to Lily, throwing your arms around her shoulders from behind.

“how goes it?” you ask, casting an amused glance at Sirius, whose wand has been confiscated by Marlene. 

“other than Sirius trying to cause a mauling in the museum and Peter nearly knocking over a multi-million dollar vase, pretty okay.” she responds, “i got to see the Ophelia painting i was interested in.” she adds excitedly. 

“i showed Moony a painting of a wolf-looking creature and he was not amused.” Mary adds from her spot at the wood sculpture. 

“can we just visit the gift shop already?” Sirius whines. at this point, you all had been walking around for the better part of an hour and to be totally honest, the gift shop had been at the back of your mind the whole time. after a chorus of enthusiastic agreement from everyone, Mary leads the group to the bottom floor where the shop is (she won’t let anyone else use her map). once in the gift shop, everyone disperses. Peter goes looking for the station where he can fill up a little velvet bag with tumbled rocks. Marlene finds an umbrella with the pattern of a famous painting on it. Lily and Mary find t-shirts with the name of the museum on the front and a painting on the back. Remus finds a pin to put on his bag and a set of museum postcards. Sirius gets a stuffed animal dinosaur with a museum branded backpack on it. Last but not least, you and James get matching green dad hats with the museum name embroidered on the front.

flaunting the new merch, James leads the group (with you on his back) out the doors and back into the autumn air. Mary convinces a random woman to take a group picture of you all in front of the museum on her new camera. she excitedly hands the camera to Peter to take a picture of her and Lily in their matching t-shirts before taking it back and taking a picture of you and James with your hats. despite your protests, James won’t put you back down, but insists upon giving you a piggy-back ride all the way to the café he wanted to hit up before he left. 

he finally sets you down as you all enter the café. the orders are as follows: James gets one hot black coffee, Lily gets a chai latte, Marlene gets an iced green tea, Mary gets a hot earl gray tea, Peter gets an iced coffee, you get an iced matcha, and Sirius insists he isn’t thirsty but orders a chocolate chip muffin. drinks (and muffin) in hand, everyone wanders down the sidewalk towards the bookstore Remus likes which happens to be next to the antique shop Sirius enjoys. everyone splits up, Remus, you, James, and Lily entering the bookshop and the rest following Sirius. Remus and Lily disappear into the classics section while you wander towards fiction and fantasy. James follows you through the shelves, picking up random books and scanning over the synopsis before putting them back. you decide against getting anything and head outside while James checks in on Remus. eventually, James joins you and you both wait outside for everyone else to be done. 

tired from all your adventures, everyone decides to apparate back to Hogwarts (Remus a few books heavier). the evening ends with everyone sat in the common room talking around the fireplace, James next to you with your legs slung over his lap as you lay against the arm of the couch. 

“was that worth whatever punishment you might’ve gotten for going?” James teases to you, knowing damn well how much fun you had.

“shut up.” you retort back, not able to hide the smile on your face. James shifts a bit on the couch to grab something from Remus’ bag on the floor.

“oh yeah, got this for you,” he says casually as he hands you a hardcover book. it’s a book on the Orpheus and Eurydice myth. “figured you could figure out for yourself whether you’d turn around or not.” James’ smirk is unmistakable in the firelight. you’re not sure whether the heated feeling in your face is from the fire or from James. you flash him an appreciative smile.

“careful Prongs, someone might think you actually listen to me when i talk.” you half joke, looking over the book’s front pages. 

“who says i dont?”

[emmawithtwoms]

Advent

@moonwater-microfic December 1st -405 words

“Remus, what is that… thing?” 

The thing Regulus was referring to was a carton frame, filled with many little containers glued to it. Those containers had very disorganised numbers on them (why was number 24 between 12 and 6?), painted in white, completely covered in glitters, little drawings of snowmen, snowflakes, little trees and candy canes. Remus had put it in their kitchen, and was filling the containers with different kinds of candies. 

“It’s an advent calendar, love.” 

“A what?” 

“Merling, I keep forgetting how uncultured you wizards are.” 

Regulus glared at his boyfriend.

“You’re walking on thin ice, Lupin. What is that?” 

“An advent calendar is a muggle thing: every day, until christmas eve, we come and get a candy from the box with the correspondent number. It’s a countdown for Christmas. I thought it would be cute to put it on for our first Christmas in our apartment.” 

“Oh, that’s cute, and did you buy it to be this… original?” 

“You can say that you don't like it, you know?” 

“It’s just… why are the numbers all mixed up?” 

Remus chuckled at his boyfriend's disdain for the lack of organization in his advent calendar. 

“Well, it’s supposed to be for children, and the fun part is looking for the right box in the morning, not knowing where it is and what you’re gonna find inside. I made this one with my mum and dad when I was a kid: we took an old frame and painted it white, the box are cut up old egg cartons stuck on with hot glue, and me and my mum spent the whole afternoon painting it and pouring all kind of glitters on it, while my da made hot chocolate and cookies for everyone. I thought it would be cute to keep up the tradition, you know? But if you don’t like it, I can take it down.” 

Regulus just stared at his boyfriend, then silently stepped over to him, grabbed the collar of his very ugly snowman sweater and yanked him down on a kiss. 

“That is the cutest and most adorable thing I have ever heard in my life. Don’t you dare take it down Remus Lupin” 

“Oh. o-ok, love, message received. Would you like to bake some Christmas cookies with me?” 

“Can I eat the leftover batter from the bowl?”

“Obviously.”

“Then yes, I would like it very much.” 

“Merlin, how I love you.”

A.N: HAPPY DECEMBER!!! The advent calendar I described is actually mine, lol. It's the one me, my mum and my brothers made when I was like 5 or 6. We still hang it up every year, and my mum still fills it with kinder bars. Sadly this year I cannot participate because I am in Budapest, but I know that my mum still has it.