#marauder era fanfic

[dovahtobi]

Four To The End Book Three Chapter One Hundred-Thirty-Eight — If You Give A Wolf A Mouse is now out!

AO3

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[uncertainwallflower]

THE VIRTUE OF SHARING A @jilymicrofics. Prompt: comfort. Words: 878.

James had always fancied the armchairs beside the fire in the Gryffindor common room as the superior chair of choice. Cushy and red and comfortable and perfectly worn from years and years of use. They provided personal space, where the loveseat required sharing, a virtue his mother highly regarded. But one day, in the first term of seventh-year, while working on a gruelling essay due at the end of the week, something occurred that permanently and entirely changed his perspective. 

The armchairs had been taken, snagged by two fifth-years. James could’ve made a fuss, pulled rank, or bodily removed one of them, but he was drained from a long Quidditch practice, and honestly, there was nothing wrong with the loveseat. Especially when sitting on it was a Lily Evans, deep in her Transfiguration textbook, forehead ever so wrinkled with concentration. Lily Evans, red-headed, sharp-tongued, strictly friends. James plonked down beside her, and she looked up with a quick and cutting smile. 

“Hey, you.” She was already returning to her textbook. 

“Hullo,” James replied. He watched her for a moment before shuffling through his handful of parchment to find the desired sheet.

“How was practice?” Her voice was slightly muffled by the pages. 

“Eh—cold, long.”

Rain battered heavy on the windows dotted about the common room. 

“Bloody ruthless Captain.” Lily shook her head. Though her tone was dead-serious, James could see a small smile that she tried to hide behind her textbook.

James grinned. “Right twit he is.”

“Oh, absolutely. Massive twit.”

“Mhm.”

Lily looked at him now, eyes sparkling. Her finger twitched, and she glanced down at the essay draft in his hands, then back to his face. She sat forward, posing her next words carefully, “Could you help me with something? I’ll make it worth your while.”

James—thank Merlin—managed to stop himself from choking. “Oh, will you now?”

Lily nodded. “Absolutely.”

“How can I be of service?”

The facade fell, and she flopped back into the loveseat, sighing dejectedly. “I simply cannot understand a single word in this blasted textbook. It makes zero sense. Can you explain it to me?” She held the open textbook out to him, its pages flapping helplessly in the space between them. 

James took the book from her and skimmed through a paragraph. He looked up. “And what will I get in return?”

She was already snatching the essay off his lap, “I’ll edit this for you. Merlin knows it’s probably unintelligible, and we want you to graduate, don’t we?”

James barked a laugh, piercing her with incredulous eyes. “You, Evans, are a swot, and a mean one at that.”

“You love that about me.”

James swallowed a sudden lump in his throat. “Not if you keep this act up.” 

It was her turn to laugh. “I’m sorry. I truly do need your help. You’re so much better at Transfiguration than me.”

“Flattery will get you nowhere.”

“It’s bound to get me somewhere.” 

They were grinning at each other.

After a moment, James sighed dramatically. “Oh, alright, Evans. I’ll help.”

“I knew you would.” She was still grinning, scooting down the loveseat to sit directly beside him, her skirt-clad thigh pressing against his trousered. 

Another lump in his throat to swallow. “Right, well. What exactly is it that you don’t understand?”

Lily set about pointing out phrases and words, brandishing a page of notes filled with anxious scribblings. 

James wasn’t sure exactly why it happened. One moment they were sitting—admittedly very close together—going over a chapter on a complex branch of Human Transfiguration. The next moment Lily’s head was resting lightly on his shoulder. It was a small change. Nothing to blink at. But by Merlin, James was blinking. That pesky lump was back, and James couldn’t help but think that this didn’t feel like strictly friends behaviour. His breath caught, his body froze. James was quite sure Lily could hear the blood pumping through his veins, the cogs whirring in his brain. 

And then, slowly, he manoeuvred his arm around her. His heart had definitely stopped. His lungs too. He was quite sure he was dead. Then Lily sighed, a small sound, barely distinguishable, but all the same. She sighed, and she folded her stockinged feet up and under herself. James was definitely dead. Dead and gone to some better place where a version of Lily Evans snuggled into his side. 

Mind exploding, throat thickening, lump refusing to be swallowed. 

“James?”

She had said something. She had definitely said something. She pulled away slightly, and James loosened his arm, prepared to have his whole world ripped away from him. She remained, dropping a tentative hand on his chest and tilting her face up to peer up at his.

“Crinus Muto?”

“Oh—yeah, right…”

The armchairs had been abandoned. He looked over at them out of habit, but between the forgotten draft essay, the open textbook in his lap and the red-headed, sharp-tongued, strictly friends, Lily Evans, whose head was resting on his chest, breath tickling his neck, fingers absently playing with a loose thread of his jumper, he found he could not care less about the cushy, red, comfortable, perfectly worn chairs of choice. He much preferred the loveseat. And, after all, sharing was a virtue. 

AO3

[outromoony]

Me when the slow burn is slow burning

[icedcoffeebabyy]

I fear no fancast will ever match how sexy Sirius Black actually is.

[veethebeequeen]

Me looking through AO3: ughhh I need to find a fic to read

My 62 open AO3 tabs: 👁️👄👁️

[my-castles-crumbling]

Falling asleep in the dorms…

“Sirius?”

“Yeah?”

“I don’t think I like Evans anymore.”

“Shit mate, took you long enough.”

“Heh. Yeah.”

…

“Sirius?”

“Yeah, Prongs?”

“I might like boys. Also. Like as well as girls.”

“Join the club, Prongs. Just stay the fuck away from Moony.”

“Noted.”

…

“Sirius?”

“Yeah, mate?”

“What if I like a particular bloke?”

“…it’s not me, is it? Because Moony would probably kill you.”

“No.”

….

“Sirius?”

“Yes, Prongs?”

“It’s your brother.”

“I know.”

“You know?”

“Yeah, I was just fucking with you before.”

“Right.”

…

“Sirius?”

“Yes Prongs?”

“That’s…it’s okay?”

“Yes, James. I’d rather it be you than anyone else, to be honest.”

“Alright.”

…

“Sirius?”

“Go the fuck to sleep, Prongs. We’ll come up with a plan to woo him tomorrow.”

“Alright.”

….

“James?”

“What’s up, Padfoot?”

“Take care of him, alright?”

“…..yeah. Yeah, of course.”

[moondostj]

been thinking about this lately: au where regulus is remus’ doctor; regulus and sirius have a good relationship and sirius occasionally drops by regulus’ practice to have lunch, only to end up flirting shamelessly and inappropriately for months with his little brother’s big brown eyed patient. on the other hand, however, remus is not to be trusted to go to the doctor by himself, and so how could his over protective best friend james potter ever let him go alone? and oh, isn’t remus’ mean doctor just the most outrageously attractive man he’s ever seen?

[not-rab]

this with jily BUT james ends up falling in love with the therapist (*cough* regulus)

[luveline]

Jade can I please get a chatty af yapper sunshine girlfriend with Sirius?? Like May be someone tells her she talks a lot so she's super quiet around him cuz she's worried he'll get annoyed and break up with her but poor Sirius he misses his chatty girl and just angst with fluff

thank you for requesting! fem, 1.4k

James Potter means well. Honestly, you don’t think he has a mean bone in his body, so you try not to take it to heart. 

Unfortunately, your attempts to do so don’t work. They really, unquestionably don’t. By the time you’re outside of Sirius’ flat that afternoon, James’ small comment is all you can think of. 

“You’re so chatty I’m surprised you don’t run out of breath,” he’d said. Not without love. You’d bumped into him in Sainsbury’s and ended up talking for ages about one thing or another, you know him well, you’d even say you were friends, though he’s of course Sirius’ friend rather than your own. “But I’m the same. God, Sirius used to hate how much I talked, he’d be sick of me. I think I numbed him to it over the years.” 

You can’t imagine it. Sirius and James are best friends. With Remus, they’re the most in love threesome of friends you’ve ever met, and it’s nice; it makes you very proud to have a boyfriend who cares for others as deeply as Sirius cares for them. It’s like a constant demonstration of how he’s a good man. 

But you’d never stopped to consider that they weren’t always so seamless, and you’ve regrettably never considered that your constant talking is something that could put him off. 

You talk to Sirius about everything. There isn’t a word to describe the excitement of having someone waiting to listen to you every single night. You could tell him every detail of a day down to what colour socks you wore and you know he’ll sit there listening with his hand on the small of your back, or his fingers twined between yours. You’ve never felt so loved as to be able to just talk about everything and have him talk back. 

But… what if, this whole time, he’s been wishing for a little bit of quiet? 

What if eventually, the talking becomes too much? 

He must be with you for a reason. You aren’t holding the poor guy hostage, he acts like he’s mad for you ninety percent of the time (while the other ten percent is spent sleeping on your shoulder). 

Like now —you knock his door and you can hear him scrambling up from the sofa, the sound of a book dislodged or a remote hitting the rug, you’re not sure. The door yanks open and Sirius smiles at you, pulling you in through the gap with a familiar hand on your hip. 

“Hey,” Sirius says, tucking you against his side, “hey, did you get lovelier over the weekend?” He shoves the door closed and gives you a hug with one arm, pausing in the hall. “Sorry I couldn’t see you. I don’t think we should miss another weekend.” 

You have a lot to tell him. It’s been ages since you spent nearly three days apart, but James’ conversation stays at the front of your mind. 

You decide to be less overwhelming, but not less loving, curling your arm behind his head to pull his cheek down for a kiss. “I don’t think so, either.” 

Sirius tilts his head away from you in an invitation for more kissing. 

You’re at home in his flat. You take off your shoes and hang up your jacket. You change into a pair of jogging bottoms with loose legs and let him hoist you onto his bed for a few stolen kisses, though he isn’t propositioning you, and you end up laying across his bedspread with one of your legs in his lap as he tells you about his days without you, his thumb sliding with pressure down your calf. 

“Mostly I wished I’d asked you to come over anyways, even if it was just to sleep together at the end of the day. Maybe next time we can do that?” he asks. 

“Of course we can.” You smile at him indulgently. “I’d come over for twenty minutes if it was all I could get.” 

“Or I can come to you,” he says, “even if it’s just twenty minutes.” 

He smiles, a beaming thing, and leans down slowly for a soft kiss. 

“So,” he asks, his breath on your lips, “how was your weekend? Lonely?” 

“So lonely,” you tease lightly, eyes fluttering closed as he continues his massaging of your leg. “But it was okay. I missed you, really, and didn’t do much else.”

“No?” he asks. 

Your voice takes on a shine as he squeezes your knee, “Missed your hands.”  

“I missed your everything.” He grabs for your forearms and pulls you into a sitting position. “But everything was okay?” he asks more seriously. 

“Everything was fine.” 

He raises his eyebrows, but eventually lets them relax. “Well, okay. Good, sweetheart, I’m glad it was okay.” 

He persuades you into the kitchen to sit with him as he makes dinner, refusing to let you help, and yet insisting you be there in the same room, as though you’d like to be anywhere else. Sirius makes your favourite of his usual rotation, offering you spoonfuls for tasting, gaps of silence stretching as he struggles to find new conversation. You start answering his questions but remember time and time again that Sirius could become totally sick of you. He might already be. 

Sirius puts the food on a low heat and washes his hands. He wipes them dry, but when he takes your face, dampness lines the inside of his fingers. 

“I’d like for you to tell me what’s wrong,” he says gently, stroking at the line of your startled frown, “before it gets worse. Do you want to talk about it?” 

“Nothing’s wrong.” 

“Please don’t, lovely. If I’ve done something wrong, please tell me. I want us to last forever, and we can’t do that if you won’t tell me when I upset you.” 

“It wasn’t you,” you say instinctively, then regret it. 

“So someone has?” he asks, still so gentle as his hands coast down your neck like he’s sculpting you, coming to rest on the slopes leading to your shoulders. “You can tell me anything. You don’t have to keep it to yourself… please.” 

“Are you sure?” 

“Sweetheart.” He frowns deeply. Couldn’t look more upset. “Of course I’m sure. Why wouldn’t I be?” 

You chew it over, not wanting or willing to cause ructions between Sirius and his oldest friend. “Well, I saw James today at the shop, and… we were talking about you…” 

He waits. “And?” 

“And he told me you– you don’t like talking. That you didn’t like talking, that James used to make you sick of it. So I know I talk too much and you’ve never made me feel like I shouldn’t, but I guess I got into my head thinking you’d get sick of me, too.” 

“When we were younger I didn’t like much of anything.” He curls an arm behind your neck to hold you in place, but it’s not a dominant sort of movement, only protective as your noses inch together. “Did you ever read that poem by Bukwoski? Let It Enfold You?” 

“What?” 

“I’m not very good at explaining myself. I thought if you knew the poem, you’d–” He laughs near your cheek. “I hated everything. It wasn’t James’ fault. He did make me sick of it sometimes, but I just wanted to hide from everything.” He breathes out slowly. “I’ve never wanted to hide from you. I can’t get sick of you. Do you get that? I can’t get sick of you. Listening to you is the best part of my day, you’re my personal chatterbox.” 

“Chatterbox,” you repeat teasingly. 

“You could talk for Wales,” he says. “And I love it, I don’t want you to stop, because I’ll never be sick of it.”

“I don’t want it to be some secret resentment.”

“I don’t resent you for anything. I knew exactly who you were when we met and I love it.” He takes your face again. “I love it,” he repeats. 

You steal a little kiss against the corner of his lips. “What was the poem?” you ask. 

“I’ll find my book, and you can read it to me. What do you think?” He takes a slow kiss as you had in the same place, words like honey. “I miss your voice.” 

He’s basically pleading. It’s not like Sirius to plead, but you pull it out of him. 

“Can I have my dinner first?” 

“The one I made while you deprived me?” he asks. “Yes, if you must.” 

He takes another kiss, but you’re happy to give it. 

[melstinybrain]

james: regulus, do you want to get coffee sometime, maybe?

regulus: uh- ye- yeah!?

james: great! um- after school?

regulus: yeah, after is- wait. you do mean that in a gay way, right?

james: yes, in a gay way.

regulus: full homo?

james: a full homosexual coffee date.

[moonstruckme]

hi my love i’m obsessed with all your works and this is my first request!

poly! marauders and cuteness aggression. like maybe reader coming home a bit tipsy from girls night and just seeing her boys and losing it. grabbing remus’ face and just kissing all over his cheeks, gnawing on james’ biceps and playing with sirius’ hair or tracing his tattoos.

Hi lovely, thank you for requesting!

cw: alcohol

poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 589 words

You leave a trail of things down the hallway that you swear you’ll pick up in the morning. Your bag, both shoes, your jacket. There’s no time to put any of it in its proper place, not when you know your boyfriends are all cozy and waiting for you in your bed. Everything else is secondary. 

The moment you get your eyes on them, it’s already too much. Remus is reading while Sirius chats to a nearly-asleep James, and you don’t know whether to scream or hug them or burst into tears. One feels more socially acceptable than the rest. 

A grin spreads over Sirius’ face as you crawl clumsily up the bed, so you go to him first. 

“Hi, baby.” You smear a kiss over his lips, burrowing your hands in his lovely, silken hair. It smells like his conditioner, smokey and heady and just slightly sweet. You wish you could snort it up into your nose like a drug. 

“Hi, baby,” Sirius says back at you, amused. “Did you have a good night?” 

“No,” you lament, though you think you might have enjoyed it at the time. 

Impulsively, you move to Remus, clambering across James to get on your quietest boyfriend’s lap. He’s already set down his book, so there are no barriers to your whims as you take his face between both hands, squishing his cheeks up and kissing them all over. You think you can hear the other boys laughing somewhere beyond your lovesick haze. Remus’ skin grows warmer with each ardent press of your lips. 

“None of you were there,” you go on. It’s impossible to articulate the full extent of this injustice. “You were here, being so lovely and perfect and lovely without me.” 

“That’s lovely twice.” Remus seems to recover somewhat from your surprise attack. His hand comes to rest in the middle of your back, a touch just for touch’s sake. “How much have you had, dove?” 

You make a petulant, whiny sound, burying your face in his neck. There will never be enough of them, your lovely boyfriends. Or maybe it’s that they’re enough, but you just can’t get enough. Regardless. You’re doomed to remain just on the brink of satisfaction. 

“Enough to know that I missed you a lot,” you say pitifully. 

“Awe, babydoll.” James’ laughter is at odds with his compassionate tone. “Come here, m’love.” 

This sounds like a grand idea to you. You wish they’d simply all squish together so you could lay your affections on them one by one, in rounds. 

James puckers his lips as you approach, readying for a kiss, and so is taken entirely aback when you forgo his face entirely. 

“Oh, well,” he says as you suck a hickey on his bicep. “I feel properly objectified.” 

You’re too pleased with yourself to be sorry. He flexes playfully, eliciting a string of giggles from you as you latch on tighter. 

“Do you think she’s been drugged?” you hear Remus ask. 

“Dunno.” James’ tone is fond. His big hand lands on the back of your head. 

“No, I sort of get it,” says Sirius. The mattress dips slightly, and then you feel him plant a wet kiss on your shoulder. “You just need to get it out of your system, yeah, sweetness?” 

You hum in affirmation. You wrap your arms around James’ middle, squeezing tight. 

“I love you so much,” you mumble into his skin. “I’m gonna kill you.” 

Your boyfriend’s frame rumbles with laughter. “Okay, lovie,” he says indulgently. “You go right ahead.”

[dovahtobi]

Four To The End Book Three Chapter 144 — “I’m Not Going Anywhere” is now out!

AO3

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[rosyred13]

do we all have that one ao3 author who were low-key obsessed with but they don’t know we exist or is that just me

[outromoony]

Must I have career goals? Can I not simply read fanfiction?

[icedcoffeebabyy]

Judge: do you swear to speak the truth and nothing but the truth.

James: I do.

Judge: what are your relations with regulus black.

James: omg dare.

[daenysx]

Hi love,

Can I ask for a 7:17 pm for Remus Lupin?

Thank you!

7.17 PM | REMUS LUPIN

"come closer, i can't even reach you." remus says, his soapy hands are on your waist. "little minx."

"i'm not doing anything!" you laugh, the sound echoes in the bathroom. "i just don't want to put all my weight on you."

"what's the point of being in the tub together if i'm not gonna hold you on me?" remus asks, he pulls you to his lap in the water and presses a sound kiss on your shoulder. "you smell perfect."

you let yourself melt against him. the evening lights are bright but faint in the bathroom, remus looks all calm and content with his wet hair and clean face. you're no different, your hair all soaked and your bare back faces him, giving him great opportunity for kisses.

he makes the best of it, of course. you are covered by bubbly kisses, all over your back and your shoulders. you tilt your head back to him, and now he can reach your neck. it's his favorite, he rubs his nose under the softness of your ear and takes a deep breath.

"you promised to wash my hair." you say with a slightly tired voice. "i'm gonna fall asleep if you keep kissing me."

remus smiles fondly. "as if you won't fall asleep when i wash your hair."

"remus-"

"sweetheart." god, he's so sickly in love, he loses his mind. "such a sweet, sweet girl you are. you deserved a nice bath, didn't you? been so good all week long."

this is the best part, he is proud of you and he's never hesitant with his words. he soaks you up in love, kissing everywhere he can find and drowning you in many many endearments.

"settle down, baby." you sit between his legs. "i always keep my promises, hmm?"

"yeah." you whisper as he starts applying shampoo on your scalp. his fingers are long and heavenly. "you're the best. the bestest."

remus loves when you go all mindless and soft on him, he only tries to take care of you when you need some time to rest. the warm water envelopes your bodies, his fingers slide easily in your hair as he massages your scalp. you make the tiniest noises, he gives your shoulder another soapy kiss.

"don't fall asleep." he says, he knows it's useless. you already closed your eyes.

"i'm not sleeping." you tell him. "only resting my eyes."

you're the prettiest liar he ever knows.