#marauders fanfic

[my-castles-crumbling]

star - jegulus - @into-the-jeggyverse - cw: mention of walburga being horrible - word count: 172

“This is stupid,” Peter murmured, staring at his star chart and wrinkling his nose angrily. “When will we ever have to use this in life?”

“What, your mother doesn’t quiz you on the locations of random constellations and refuse to give you dinner until you get it right?” Sirius murmured under his breath, scribbling away at his parchment.

Both Remus and James exchanged nervous looks, but nobody said a word.

“Sirius, what’s this one? In the Leo constellation?” Peter asked after a minute, pointing to his paper.

But two voices spoke up at the same time.

“Regulus.”

Three pairs of eyes turned to stare at James, who was slowly turning bright red. “Prongs…” Sirius said slowly, blinking and pinching his eyebrows together. “How do you know that?”

“Erm…” the Gryffindor shifted awkwardly in his seat, looking like he wanted to disappear into a black hole. “I….secretly love Astronomy?”

But Peter was grinning from ear to ear. “Yeah, he secretly loves something,” he murmured, chuckling while Remus smirked and Sirius gaped.

[aetherraeys]

passing moments

remus lupin x reader ⊹ 9.6k

for this request!

cw ⟢ rekindling friends to lovers, tension, pining, lots of angst, reader is a big daydreamer, slowish burn

time was the enemy, always working against you. until remus had enough and decided to take control of his fate--you.

a/n: did cry real human tears writing this...but anyway hope you enjoy!! not proofread!

Quite early on in life you learnt two things.

First—timing is everything.

One split-second decision has the power to change the entire trajectory of a moment, and that will trickle into your day, your week, your month—altering things in ways you’ll only notice much later. A choice as small as turning left instead of right, staying instead of leaving, speaking instead of staying silent.

And although, you tried not to dwell on things like that too much, you often found yourself staring up the ceiling fan, thumbs twiddling on your lap—lost in deep thought. Recounting moments, mind flitting back and forth trying to distinguish things, pin-point the trivial choices you’d made. Pondering. The possibilities, the what-ifs, the way things could change, if you’d done something else how different the moment you were in now could be.

Only sometimes did it frustrate you, the way life was seemingly always a one track path—curious of the small branches each decision could form.

All the coulds, woulds, shoulds melting away in a fraction of a second.

The permanance of it all erked you.

Still, you’re thankful that in the moment, you aren’t debilitated by the action of decision making, rarely plagued with regrets, just harmless wondering. It wasn’t a frequent occurence for you to wish to turn back time.

“You’re thinking too loudly, Y/N, it’s distracting.”

Regulus.

Sitting behind you with James and his brother on the table in the Gryffindor common room, supposedly studying for the advanced potions exam but you zoned them out ages ago. Head tilted back resting on the edge of the sofa—you looked quite peaceful in your mindless contemplation, Remus thought, he’d been subtely watching from the other end. His back against the arm of the sofa, book resting on the ball of his knees that he’d brought up into his chest. Tracing over your side profile in his mind, your head rolling slightly as you lifted it up, as if it was weighty on your shoulders.

You didn’t turn back to look at them behind you, only producing a small questioning hum, gaze falling on the fire. Remus continued watching as your eyes unfocused, blinks become slower and slower, almost entranced by the embers flicking off the body of fire.

The rise and fall pattern of your chest slowing as you sunk deeper into yourself again. He had to fight the twitch at the corners of his lips, sometimes you drifted away with the fairies, only a physical presence in the room—and he found it rather endearing. Using that time to steal small glances at you, the way the jogging of your foot slowed to a stop, how your face relaxed and rested in a slight pout.

He stretch out one of his long legs, letting it fall off the edge and brush against your ankle—the contact brought your back down, turning your head to him quickly a small sheepish smile blooming on your face; you’d been caught.

Still shifting in his seat, sitting upright, letting his limbs extend and crossing his ankles over one another, his book opened face down on the armrest. Remus was still looking at you, a huffed chuckle leaving through his nose when he asked, “You tired?”

Your face scrunched slighty, arms wrapping around yourself, fingertips playing with the loose yarn of your jumper. Shaking your head and mumbling a light, “No,” Remus had already made space for you, gently patting his lap, a signal. You rolled your eyes, but there was no real bite—you were already moving, twisting your body to rest the back of your head on his lap. Looking up, admiring him, melting into his touch—his hands instinctively playing hairs at the nape of your neck when you turned your head.

And the second you did, he looked down to you, mirroring your previous actions. Watching as the light from the fire flitted across the skin of your cheek, reflecting off the glisten in your eye. He whispered to you, fingertips ghosting over the skin of your neck as he twirled a strand around it, “What y’thinking about?”

Shifting further to get more comfortable, your head rolled back over to him, tongue darting out to wet your lips before you inhaled deeply through your nose—eyes boring into each others. Your brows raised on your face, humming out an answer, “Hmmm…just things,”

Remus leaned down dramatic and inquistive, hand having abandoned your stray hairs, and was now stroking over the top of your head. Your face split into a wide grin at the playful glint in his eye—voice full of feigned skepticism, wiggling his brows at you.

“Ooo, scandal! What things?”

You couldn’t help that laugh that bubbled in your chest, shaking on his lap, eyes squeezing shut as you giggles filled the room—his chest bloomed with pride when you broke, grinning with you. His fingers twitched at his sides in efforts not to just squish your face because, Merlin were you pretty.

Your friends watched the scene from the far table.

But no-one said anything, it was the norm. You and Remus—close, very comfortable with each other, but just friends. They all knew it; he liked you, you liked him, but for whatever reason neither of you addressed it.

The fond looks, lingering touches, magnetised to each other, but never crossing that line that you’d both magically drawn in the same place.

In the great hall, you sat with Lily, Marlene and Dorcas, they were all engaging in light conversation—enjoying their lunch. But you sat there silent, face vacant, mind drifting off far far away. So far infact that even in all their noisy hustle and bustle, the clattering of plates and scratching of benches, you hadn’t notice the late arrival of the boys.

Toast barely half buttered let alone eaten, hands cradling your wrists, completely content in your daydream. Not long after they settled in, Sirius snicker at your flat gaze—nudging James with his elbow before nodding over to you, and he quickly joined him in amused observation. Unsuprisingly, the whole table began watching you, the sound of metal against the china of their plates had slowed and they were waiting—waiting for you to notice or feel their gaze.

Sirius even went as far as to blow at you in hopes of a reaction, barking out a laugh when you didn’t move at all; “D’you reckon she’s sleeping with her eyes open?”

Even Remus chuckled lightly at your blank expression, after eventually deciding that your friends had had more than enough fun experimenting and speculating, he ran his hand from the top, gently trailing down the entirety of your spine, settling in the small of your back. And following the movement of his hand, your back arched, straightening, becoming taut—finally blinking your way back into the room with a deep inhale through your nose.

The table erupted with small giggles and snickers, you whipped your head around at them, and then to Remus—wide-eyed and innocent, he just ducked his head down with an airly laugh, his palm still pressed against you. “What? What’s so funny?” You couldn’t help but smile along with them, even in your oblivion.

“Oh nothing. It’s just that Moony factory reset you like you were a Monster Book of Monsters.”

This time it wasn’t just small snickers, the laughter barked and sounded loud around the great hall at Sirius comment, poor Lily even choked on her pumpkin juice, spluttering out a laugh. Your mouth was agape, heat rushing to your ears but you didn’t have any words to fight back with, just shaking your head—hand reaching out for your globet and taking a shy sip.

The chaos did eventually die down, as did the heat in your ears—chatter building again at the table that you stayed present to, humming along. Remus’ hand slid up lightly to your waist as he leaned in, head dipping to your ear. You could feel his breath warm against the skin of your neck as he pulled you in slightly closer, low enough only for you to hear—

”Where d’you go, love?”

You were sure there were goosebumps appearing down the back of your neck.

As you turned to him, your breath hitched just slightly—just enough for Remus to notice, his lips twitching at the corners. His eyes, soft and inquisitive, searched yours, waiting for an answer you weren’t sure you could give.

Nowhere, you almost said, but your lips parted, and something else came out instead.

“Just thinking.”

His fingers, still resting at your waist, squeezed gently. “About what?”

Pads digging in to your robes slightly, like he wasn’t ready to let go just yet, and you rested further into him, a small huff of laughter leaving you—but you stuggled to find the words, hesitating. You were always thinking about the same things, the moments that have passed, the infinite possibility before choice.

“Dunno,” you said, though the words tasted like a lie.

His eyes lingered on you a moment longer, like he wanted to press—like he wanted to reach into your mind and untangle every thought keeping you so far away from him. But then, just like that, the moment passed.

Remus only hummed, low and thoughtful, before leaning away. The warmth of his breath on your skin disappeared, his hand returned to his plate, and you tried to continue your meal—but a small twinge of doubt built in the pits of your stomach. The same itching thoughts, if you’d just said, if you didn’t hold back, if your didn’t lie.

Once again leaving the room, slipping away into yourself.

If, if, if.

Your only hesitation, your only regret, your only reason to wish to turn back time.

Remus.

It wasn’t until your final year that a small distance built between you and him.

At first, it was barely noticeable. A few missed conversations, a shift in routine, your usual late-night talks fading into occasional, fleeting moments. You told yourself it was just school, just NEWTs, just exhaustion. But deep down, you knew better. It was you. It was him. It was time—always working against you.

And then, one evening, during the celebration of Gryffindor’s Quidditch win, you saw it.

Remus, standing in the middle of the common room, golden light flickering across his face, his arms wrapped around her. A Hufflepuff girl—someone kind, gentle, with a soft smile and bright eyes. He was beaming, spinning her to the music that played.

The world around you dulled. The cheers, the base, the laughter—it all became muffled, as if you were underwater, sinking deeper with every second.

You watched as she laughed against his shoulder, her fingers tangled in the hair at the nape of his neck. Watched as he leaned in, lips brushing against hers like it was the easiest thing in the world.

And maybe it was.

Your heart ached, twisted into something tight and unbearable, and for a while you didn’t look away. You couldn’t. Maybe some part of you thought you deserved to watch—deserved to feel this.

Time was cruel, the second thing you learnt was that nothing lasts forever.

You’d hesitated, debated—watch as a bystander to the passing of time, missing all of your many windows of opportunity, this was your punishment.

The music, laughter, loud chatter, thumping of feet still danced around you, and yet you sat in the corner of the sofa—transfixed on absolutely nothing. Unaware of the time as it slipped away from you—lost, at some point, Regulus took notice.

He had been standing off to the side, lingering in the shadows like he always did, observing. He saw the exact second your expression changed—the way your eyes dimmed, the way your body seemed to curl in on itself, like you disappeared into the noise.

He sat next to you, but you didn’t move. Didn’t acknowledge him. Your mind was somewhere else—somewhere far away, but he could always tell, always hear how loud your thoughts were.

So, after a moment, Regulus took your hand.

You blinked, barely registering the warmth of his palm against yours, barely noticing the way he guided you out of the common room. You let him. You followed. The party faded behind you, swallowed by the quiet halls, the cold air biting at your skin as he led you to the bell tower.

And then, you sat.

Neither of you spoke. Regulus wasn’t the type to offer empty words or false reassurances. He didn’t tell you it would be okay or that it would pass. He just stayed. And in the end, that was enough. It wasn’t until he wrapped an arm around you—his touch gentle, grounding—that the cracks began to show.

A single tear slipped past your lashes, landing on your lap, and you forced out a nod.

“He’s happy,” you murmured, voice barely above a whisper.

Regulus frowned. He didn’t say anything, but he didn’t need to. The weight of his silence was enough to say I know—to say I see you.

The next morning, you couldn’t bring yourself to sit next to him.

You came to breakfast late, sliding into the empty seat next to Lily, despite the open space beside Remus. You didn’t feel his gaze on you, heavy and searching. You plate remained untouched, no one questioned your silence—accustom to your drifting. But Lily saw it—the puffiness around your eyes, the way your fingers picked slowly at the skin of your nails, fading in and out of the room.

And so did Remus.

The way your face didn’t have it usual peaceful thinking expression, your shoulders were sagged, each small breath, each rise and fall of your chest moved like it was too heavy, too taxing to breath any deeper—there was no pout on your lips, a telltale sign of your contemplation. Instead your lips were curved down, edged with something sadder.

It made his stomach twist, made something unfamiliar settle in his chest. But before he could act on it, before he could make his way around the table and ask you what was wrong, he heard his name.

“Remus!”

His girlfriend, smiling up at him, tugging on his sleeve. “Come on, we’re going to be late.”

He hesitated.

Just for a second.

But then he let himself be pulled away, let himself walk out of the Great Hall without looking back.

Time was a silly and fickle thing.

Without the one constant presence, Remus, time seemed to escape you—more often than not just far away, floating through the days. Because any time you were actually present in the room, a squeezing pressure in your chest gathered, making each word, each thought heavy and burdensome.

It was so much simpler to just fade away with the time.

The first year after graduation, your barely saw him, it made it a bit easier—less like rubbing salt in an open wound and more like a dull ache, something buried just beneath the surface. Manageable, if only because you didn’t have to look at him, didn’t have to hear his laugh or catch the warmth in his eyes that no longer belonged to you.

Time blurred. Days bled into weeks, weeks into months. Life went on—without him, without the weight of what ifs pressing down on your shoulders.

But absence didn’t mean forgetting.

There were still moments—passing through a bookstore and spotting a title you knew he’d love, hearing a joke that would’ve made him throw his head back in laughter, seeing the first full moon of the month and feeling that quiet, familiar worry settle in your chest. Even smells, whiffs of fresh parchment and earl grey tea, laced with rich dark cocoa.

The memories lingered, slipping through the cracks when you least expected them. They weren’t as painful, not exactly. Just...hollow.

Because no matter how far the time stretch, Remus would still have a piece of your soul.

It was a chance encounter, one of those moments that felt almost cruel in its inevitability.

A cafe in Diagon Alley—warm, light streaming through the windows, a stark contrast to the biting cold outside. The scent of roasted coffee beans lingered in the air, mingling with the quiet hum of conversation and the occasional clink of porcelain against saucers. It was the kind of afternoon that made the world feel a little slower, a little softer.

Remus hadn’t planned on stopping. He had only been passing by, coat pulled tight around him against the cold, mind elsewhere. But then—through the fogged-up glass of the window—he saw you.

His breath caught in his throat and his legs moved before he could stop them.

You were sitting alone at one of the small corner tables, hands curled around a cup of something warm, though it remained untouched. Your gaze was distant, fixed on nothing in particular, lost somewhere far away. The familiar empty expression, corners of your lips still tilting downwards.

Against all rational, he stepped inside the café, ordered himself a cup of tea, and made his way over to you.

You didn’t notice.

Not when he pulled out the chair across from you, not when he sat down and set his cup gently on the table. You remained frozen in thought, thumbs gently rubbing over the procealine of the handle—chest rising and falling in that same pattern that Remus knew so well—shallow on the inhale, deeper on the exhale.

He watched you for a few long moments—old habits creeping back in, it hadn’t even been that long—maybe fifteen months since graduation, and you were the same you that he missed. He’d memorised it easily, those small things; the way the slower your blinks were the further away you were, how when you drifted, the longer you spent the more your body would begin to sway.

Then, slowly, hesitantly, he spoke.

“Y/N,”

Gods, it was that same unfairly warm and fond tone he always used without knowing, it just rolled off his tongue.

It was as if you’d been pulled abruptly from the depths of some distant memory, yanked back into the present. Your entire body stiffened for a fraction of a second before your eyes finally lifted to meet his, breath catching in your throat—eyes running over his figure.

Remus watched as recognition flickered through them, followed by something else—something unreadable. Your fingers twitched slightly against your cup, and your back straightened, as if bracing yourself.

For a moment, you just stared at him.

Then, your lips parted slightly, and in a voice quieter than you intended, you breathed, "Remus."

His name on your lips did something to him. Opening up that quiet ache in his chest, caught somewhere between longing and nostalgia, between familiarity and distance.

A small, careful smile tugged at his lips. “Hi.”

You blinked, and for a second—just a second—your expression cracked. Something raw passed over your face too quickly for him to grasp. Then, like always, like before, you smoothed it over with a practiced smile, one he had seen countless times before.

Another moment of silence stretched between you, not uncomfortable, not easy either—thick.

For the first time since seeing him, you let yourself look at him. Really look. He was the same, but different. His hair had grown out slightly, curling over his ears. There were faint circles under his eyes, like he hadn’t been sleeping much. The scar on his cheek, the one you used to trace absentmindedly with your fingers, was still there.

And his eyes—they still held that same warmth, the same quiet intensity, the same way they had always looked at you like he could see through every carefully constructed wall you had ever put up.

He tilted his head slightly, studying you. “Still away with the fairies, Y/N.”

It was a simple statement, lighthearted, harmless—but you felt your lungs squeeze at his voice.

Huffing out a small laugh, though it lacked real amusement, fingers tracing over the rim of your now cold cup, avoiding his gaze with a light shrug; “Mmm, old habits die hard,”

Remus hummed, taking a slow sip of his tea before glancing back at you. “I missed you at Mary’s birthday last month.”

The pressure of his gaze was undeniable, it made you want to hide away, run, escape it. And though he surely didn’t mean it to be scrutinising, you could look at it no other way.

Your fingers curled slightly against your cup.

You hadn’t gone. You’d intended to—had even gotten ready—but in the end, the thought of seeing him had felt too much. It wasn’t that you hadn’t wanted to, it was just…you weren’t sure if you could bear standing in a room with him and feeling so far away, like a stranger.

Swallowing thickly, “Yeah, I—” You hesitated, searching for the right words. “I got caught up with things.”

Leaning forward, brows raised, eyes glistening with a playful curiosity that you hadn’t seen in so long, “Ooo, what things?” His voice was so casual, slipping so easy back into old mannerism with you he couldn’t even catch himself. He smiled softly, watching as your eyes widened slightly—earning a real laugh, small and breathy, shaking your head.

Noting the way the grip on your cup lessened, relieving your shoulders from their overly tense position when you replied. “Nothing interesting,”

Gods did he miss your smile.

He almost missed your words, absorbed in the moment of you, “I would’ve liked to see you there,” he admitted.

Something in your chest ached, like bandages were being taken off too early, too slowly, the wound underneath burning against the harsh contact of air. Inhaling deeply, your smile faltered slightly, swallowing the words you want to say and Remus studied you for a beat too long, he saw it but wasn’t going to push you on it.

Instead, he nodded at nothing, a soft exhale escaping him, as he brought his tea to his lips—he’d tried to drink it slowly, prolong the time he could sit with you, but it was almost finished. His time was almost up.

Placing the cup back onto the table with a dull click, he glanced at your cup, barely touched as you traced the rim—“I was going to the market—if, you’d uh…like to come?” His words were lightly rushed at the start, slowing down in hesitance by the time he reached the end.

Your mouth opened and closed several times, eventually sighing in way that told Remus, she’s about to refuse. A quiet war waged in your mind, hesitation curling around your thoughts like vines, creeping and twisting until they tangled themselves into knots too tight to unravel.

It’s not like you didn’t want to go.

But things were different now—time had passed, life had changed and the space between you both had been filled with too many unspoken things, too many missed chances.

So, instead, you inhaled softly, gaze dropping to your untouched cup. “Remus, I—”

“It’s not too far from here, I promise,”

His gaze was almost pleading as his interrupted, words hurried with a cadance that teetered on desperate. “Just to the market,” you breathed back, more to yourself than anything. As if that made it all alright, as if your heart wasn’t already well on the way to giving out with each moment you spent with him.

He knew deep down he was being selfish, he shouldn’t have put you in this situation, shouldn’t have disturbed you and sat down at the table, shouldn’t even have come in to the shop when he saw you—but he just couldn’t help himself, it was you.

“Just to the market.” He affirmed, a glimmer of hope blooming in his eyes as he watched the cogs turn in your brain, the internal discourse—debating if you should go.

“…Okay,” you said, barely above a whisper—shoulders slumming slightly as you relented.

Remus had to use every signal in his brain not to beam at you, just allowing the corners of his mouth to twitch into a small smile, eyes crinkling at the edges, flickering with something warm, something light—releasing the smallest exhale of relief.

He pushed his chair back slightly, standing and shrugging on his coat before motioning toward the door. “Shall we?”

You nodded, your own movements slower, more careful, as if afraid the moment would shatter if you moved too suddenly.

The streets were painted in hues of late afternoon gold, the cool breeze threading through the air, tousling Remus’ hair and slipping beneath your sleeves.

At some point, without thinking, his fingers brushed against yours—the conversation was light, easy—effortless, just like two friends catching up. Technically, that’s what you were.

Just seeing you settled some of the unrest that seeped into Remus’ bones, but being with you, in your space, conversating like it were just yesterday when you sat together infront of the common room fire—it had him forcing the pits of his stomach to rest with shuddering intakes of breath. It made him feel like he was living again, made him realise that he’d not known peace in your absence.

Constantly finding his heart reeling as each crease forming by your eyes when you smiled, each time you wandered over to a stall, his breath hitched watching you enthuse with the vendor—unbelievely bewitched by your presence. The familiar shiver down his spine when you got close to him, like he was a teenager again.

Gods, you should have said no.

You should have made up a cheap excuse to avoid this, the slippery slope that was Remus Lupin.

You should have said no because you knew you were weak to him, every word that left his lips more hypnotising than the last, willing the away the invasive pinch that accompanied the crooked smile on his face, smothering the urge to let your eyes linger on him as his brows squeezed together with each laugh he let out.

You should have said no because it wasn’t just the market.

Unknowingly, time had escaped you both, trailing down the emptying narrow roads, slowly treading along the cobbled paths, hours passed like minutes until the sun had resigned under the horizon and the skies filled with small scattered pin-pricks of light, the moon smiling down at you.

The laugh that spilled from your lips was cut off with a gasp when you caught glimpse of your watch, it was already so late. Trudging to a sudden halt, Remus looked back—eyes filled with concern, frantically scanning your frame, words immediate and panicked, “What’s the matter?”

Shaking your head, realising how quickly time had slipped through your fingers. “Nothing—I hadn’t realised the time” you admitted, glancing back up at him. “I should probably—”

Go.

You should go.

Remus’ face fell almost imperceptibly, but you caught it. The subtle downturn of his lips, the flicker of something like disappointment in his eyes before he schooled his expression slightly, into something more neutral.

You’d barely started to fill the gaping hole you left in Remus—and now you were leaving?

“You don’t have to rush off,” he said, voice gentle but insistent.

You let out a small breath of a laugh. “Remus, it’s late.”

“All the more reason you shouldn’t go home on your own,” he countered easily, slipping back into that same old protective streak of his. “And besides—” He glanced down at your hands, your half empty takeaway cup from earlier, before looking back up at you with raised brows. “You haven’t eaten anything.”

You blinked at him. “I can eat at home—”

He’d only just begun to feel like he could breath again and time was already up?

Remus wasn’t a particularly prideful man, and most definetly was not above begging, not when it came to you—already rushing out words, as if he needed to say them before he lost the nerve. “You can eat with me. At mine.”

That startled you into silence.

Running a hand through his hair, pushing it back before shoving both hands into his pockets. “It’s not far. Just a few stops on the train.” He tried to keep his voice casual, easy, but there was a layer there, undeniable—something raw and vulnerable and desperate.

Your mouth opened, instinct telling you to protest—but at that exact moment, your stomach betrayed you, letting out a rather loud rumble.

Remus’ lips twitched, amusement flashing across his face before he pressed his hand over his heart in mock sincerity. “Really, I insist.”

Your jaw clenched, eyes narrowing slightly at the smugness creeping into his expression.

But despite yourself—despite every hesitation curling in the back of your mind—your lips curved upward, just a little.

“…Fine.”

And if Remus let out a breath of relief, if his smile stretched just a bit wider than before—neither of you mentioned it.

The train ride to Remus’ was comfortable and quick—he hadn’t exaggerated when he said it was only a few stops. But as you turned the corner onto his road, as his footsteps slowed, and a quiet realisation settled over you.

You’d never been to his house before.

It wasn’t a big deal—he’d never been to yours either—but still, something about it felt strangely significant. You’d spent countless afternoons, evenings, nights, knee-deep in conversations about homes you’d live in after Hogwarts—the perfect little flat you imagined for yourself, the cozy two-story house Remus had always wanted—planning.

And now, after almost a year and a half apart, you were finally seeing the place he called home.

When he unlocked the door, the lights at the bottom of the corridor were already on, accompanied with the faint sound of a radio and quiet clattering, you were still slipping off your shoes when you looked up at Remus. An expression of mild concern at the liveliness of his house, eyes flickering between the end of the corridor and him—he only huffed out a small chuckle, placing his hand lightly on your back motioning you further in.

Squinting at him in slight suspicion before following, allowing your eyes to wander around the walls, absorbing the decorations, the small homely touches he’d added—the graduations pictures, the keys hanging next to the broom stand, two framed burgundary ties with mustard yellow strips.

Two?

You were still in a state of curious admiration when the door infront of you swug open wildly with a vigour that made the hinges release a high pitch groan, almost immediately you were ingulfed in to warm clutch—feet lifted off the carpet and the world around you spun. The squeal of shock that left you was completely swallowed by the loud bellowing call of your name.

“Y/N!”

When you finally made contact with the floor again, leaning back to take a good look at your assailant, the largest grin split across your face—matching his enthusiasm and pulling him in to another tight, squeezing hug. “Jamie?!” Rocking side to side in his grasp, a laugh of disbelief bubbled through his chest—even when you seperate his hands moved to your cheeks, smooshing your face into a pout as you laughed.

“Where have you been, love?”

It had hardly even been three months since you last saw James, and he was still acting as if you had disappeared off the face of the earth. His thumbs brushed against your cheeks before he finally released you, though not without a playful shake of your shoulders.

“I swear, one minute you’re here, the next you’ve vanished into thin air! I was starting to think you’d moved to another bloody country,” James accused, though his grin never wavered.

You rolled your eyes, but the warmth in your chest only grew. “Three months, Potter. Hardly enough time to start missing me that much.”

James scoffed, dramatic as ever. “Three months too long, if you ask me.”

Remus stood not to far behind you, and as much as he was warmed by the scene that unfolded before him, a small sharp pang of something else shot through his chest, something ugly—something green. James made it look like it was the easiest thing in the world, pulling you back in, slotting you so effortlessly into the space you had once occupied in their lives.

James had always been good at that—at making people feel like they belonged, like no time had passed at all. But Remus…Remus wasn’t sure he had that same ability. Not with you. Not after everything.

His fingers twitched at his side, resisting the urge to reach for you. He watched the way you laughed, eyes crinkling as James animatedly retold some ridiculous story, and it should’ve made Remus feel nothing but comfort, ease. Instead, there was that pang again—the bitter discontent and regret tangled and settled uncomfortably beneath his ribs.

He couldn’t help but think back to the times when that would have been him, easily able to pull you close, not treading lightly around undisclosed boundaries and avoiding silences.

You’d all sat on their sofa together, eating dinner—thankful James still hadn’t mastered portion control, always making enough to feed the five thousand. It was pleasant, relaxed—unpressured conversation filling the room, time once again passing too quickly for his liking.

James let out a loud yawn, stretching his arms above his head before slinging them back around both of you, pulling you in for one last quick squeeze. “Right, I’m off to bed,” ruffling your hair before turning to Remus with a lopsided smirk, “Have fun with the dishes, Moony,” he teased.

Remus scoffed, rolling his eyes as James trudged up the stairs, his footsteps heavy against the wood. The house settled into a softer quiet in his absence, the warm hum of the radio still playing faintly in the background.

You stood up abruptly, taking Remus’ plate with you on your rise, gathering the dishes on the coffee table, swiftly making your way into the kitchen. Remus followed behind, a tad bit too low to stop in your wordless flurries—as you surveyed the room he gently tried to pry the dishes from your grasp but you quickly pulled away, “At least let me help clean up. I did kind of barge in on dinner—”

Remus cut you off, frowning slightly. “You didn’t barge in. I invited you.”

But you were already brushing past him, stationing yourself at the sink as you rolled up your sleeves.

“Still,” you murmured, voice stubborn but gentle, “it’s the least I can do.”

Remus sighed, rubbing the back of his neck, but didn’t argue further. Instead, he grabbed a clean dish towel and joined you, falling into place beside you like it was the most natural thing in the world. The lulling sound of water running, dishes clinking softly as you scrubbed and he dried, felt almost domestic, shoulders brushing together with each movement.

For a moment, it was like nothing had changed. Like time hadn’t stolen so much from you both.

And as he watched you, sleeves pushed up, hands covered in suds, brows furrowed slightly in concentration, something in his chest ached.

Because this—this quiet togetherness, this moment, this you—it burned him to think that it would eventually have to end.

The quiet hum of the radio faded into the background as your hands moved on autopilot, warm water running over your skin as you scrubbed a plate, mind drifting in the comfort of routine. You barely noticed the way Remus stared as he worked beside you, slipping into a rhythm that felt like you had done this a hundred times before.

You hissed, yanking your hand back as a bright bloom of crimson welled up along the curve of your palm.

“Shit—” His voice was sharp with concern, his body moving before his mind could catch up. Remus was on you in an instant, dish towel abandoned on the counter, forgotten, as he closed the space between you in a heartbeat. “Let me see.”

“It’s noth—”

But he had already reached for your wrist, his fingers curling around it, gentle but firm as he tilted your hand toward the dim light of the kitchen. The sting pulsed under your skin, warm and insistent, but it was nothing compared to the heat of his touch, the way his thumb brushed over the uninjured part of your palm in silent reassurance.

His brows furrowed as he studied the wound, jaw ticking. “It’s deep,” he murmured, more to himself than to you. His grip on your hand tightened ever so slightly before he exhaled sharply. “Come on, sit down. We need to clean it.”

You let yourself be led to the dining table, pulse thrumming a little too fast beneath your skin. Remus released your wrist only long enough to retrieve a first aid kit from the cupboard, and you sat there, suddenly hyperaware of the way your hand throbbed in time with your heartbeat. Mumbling out a small string of excuses littered with apologies, before he could even begin fussing over you.

When he returned, he knelt in front of you, one knee pressed to the floor, his free hand resting lightly against your knee for balance. His eyes flicked up to yours, filled with something exasperated but fond. “Are you seriously apologising for bleeding?”

You opened your mouth, then closed it again, heat creeping up your neck. “Well—no, but—”

His lips twitched, cutting you off before you could fumble out an excuse. His voice was low, unfairly gentle. “It’s fine, Y/N.”

You swallowed, pressing your lips together as you dropped your gaze to where he was already tearing open an alcohol swab. He worked deftly, practiced and careful.

“This is going to sting,” he warned, glancing up at you briefly.

You took a slow, steadying breath, closing your eyes. “Okay.”

The antiseptic made contact, and you hissed, the sharp burn blooming across your palm.

Remus’ fingers tensed around yours, brows knitting together at the sound. “I know,” he murmured, voice softer now, soothing. “Almost done.”

You nodded, forcing yourself to relax as he continued, his thumb absentmindedly brushing slow, reassuring circles against your wrist. After a moment, he leaned back slightly, inspecting the wound with quiet concentration. “Not deep enough for stitches,” he murmured, reaching for the closure strips, “this’ll seal it to keep anything out.”

You watched him as he worked, your gaze tracing the furrow of his brows, the way his lips parted slightly in focus. He hummed softly under his breath—an old habit, one you hadn’t heard in so long it made something in your depths of your chest sting and squeeze.

You hadn’t realized you were staring until his voice cut through the quiet.

“What?”

Your eyes flicked up to his, startled. “What?”

The corner of his mouth twitched in amusement, and though he hadn’t stopped tending to your hand, you could feel the air around you thin slightly. “You’re staring,” he said simply.

You hesitated. The instinct to brush it off, to deflect, clawed up your spine—but instead, you inhaled, considering your words. The confession was quiet, airy—

“I just like looking at you.”

Remus’ fingers stilled over your palm, and you felt rather than saw the breath he sucked in. He didn’t move, didn’t speak for a long moment—just looked at you, something flickering behind his eyes that you couldn’t quite pinpoint, then, a quiet, disbelieving chuckle left him, breathy and low.

His hands, still warm against you, curled slightly against your knees as he tilted his head, something playful and teasing in his voice. “Do you now?”

Your lips parted slightly, and though your pulse was hammering against your ribs, you held his gaze. “I do.”

The words left you on an exhale, soft and breath—yet certain.

Disarming him completely, briging to the surface what he’d always pushed down, unravelling something Remus was always to fearful to face.

His fingers flexed, unconsciously pulling himself closer, the warmth of his breath brushing against heating surface of your skin. His eyes flickered to your lips—lingering—just for a moment, but you felt it, the hesitation, the war between thought and impulse. The space between you was dwindling, a mere breath away from closing entirely—

Then, the sound of near footsteps, the screeching of hinges.

Remus shot to his feet so fast it was almost comical, nearly knocked the first aid kit off the table, his face twisting into something like panic. The tips of his ears flushed pink, guilt flickering over his features like he’d just been caught doing something he shouldn’t have.

James stood in the doorway, frozen, a glass in his hand.

His eyes flicked between you and Remus, and his face twisted slightly in slow realization, when he muttered, “Shit—sorry, I just…came to get some water.”

Voice flat, mildly exasperated, as if he knew exactly what he had just interrupted. You swallowed hard, heart still lodged in your throat as James stepped around the room, deliberately avoiding eye contact as he filled his glass at the sink.

Remus ran a hand through his hair, exhaling sharply, the tension still clinging to the air like static. “Yeah, no, it’s—uh—it’s fine.”

While you sat still in your seat, heart pounding, fingers curled tightly around the edge of the chair, James practically tiptoed around you both as if being quieter would make it any less painfully awkward.

Then, without another word, he left, water glass in hand.

The silence he left behind was deafening.

Remus let out a slow breath, still standing rigid beside you. You swallowed. Hand—still warm from his touch—lay limp in your lap. Your pulse still thrummed wildly beneath your skin. Clearing his throat, busying his hands and clearing the first aid kit, he mumbled something about getting to the dishes later.

You stood, looking around the room aimlessly—you both knew it, it was about time you left, made your way home.

But he wasn’t ready. You can’t leave, not yet.

Rubbing his palms forcibly on the surfcae of his trousers, wracking his brain for an excuse, a reason for you to stay, words to reset your time.

“Would you like to see the garden?”

He scolded himself internally, of all this he could blurt out, the garden was his best answer? There wasn’t even much to see—

“You have a garden?!” cutting his reprimanding monologue short with a small gasp, your words overflowing with enthusiasm that shocked him, purging some if the anxiety that had built in his shoulders. With a huffed chuckle Remus nodded, extending an arm to guide you through the house.

If there was one thing you missed about Hogwarts, it was without a doubt the endless view of the clear skies, the privilege of seeing the stars in all their beauty any time you wished—cloud free.

As you stepped though the sliding doors after him, another gasp slipped from your lips, Remus turned, watching you marvel at the skies, eyes wide with childlike wonder as you stepped further into the small patch of land.

The garden itself was modest, with a few well-tended plants lining the perimeter, a bench seated against the fence, but you hardly spared them a glance. Your gaze was locked skyward, drinking in the sprawling expanse of stars, their silver glow scattered like spilled ink across the inky blue.

Remus watched, momentarily forgetting himself, his lips quirking into something impossibly fond.

"You like the stars that much?" he asked, voice softer now, lower, as if speaking any louder would shatter the moment.

You turned, beaming at him, an excitement so pure that it made his breath catch in his throat. "Are you kidding? It’s been ages since I’ve seen them properly like this." Your voice was full of quiet awe as you turned your gaze back upward, taking a few more steps into the cool grass.

"I used to sneak out to see them all the time at school, but it’s hard to find a good view in the city."

He swallowed, tucking his hands into his pockets, watching the way your face reflected the soft glow of the moon. He had brought you out here on impulse, desperate to keep you close, to not let you run away again. A cool breeze drifted through the night air, brushing loose strands of hair against your cheek, and without thinking, Remus reached forward, tucking them gently behind your ear.

You stilled.

The warmth of his fingers lingered against your skin, fleeting but unmistakable. You turned to him fully then, eyes searching his face, and the only thing he could hear was the loud thumpng of his heartbeat bouncing between his ears, throat bobbing as he swallowed, the hum of the world around you steadily fading away.

"You really love them, don’t you?" His voice was barely above a whisper now.

You nodded, gaze never leaving his. "Yeah," you murmured, smiling softly. "They make me feel small, like in a good way. Like...I’m part of something bigger."

He exhaled a quiet chuckle, shaking his head. "You always say things like that."

"Like what?"

He barely even hesitated—

"Things that make me realize how much I missed you.”

Remus could see the internal panic set in, flashing wildly behind your eyes, completely undeniable, so was the way your breath audibly hitched in your throat fingers twitching where they rested by your side.

The way he said it—automatic, definite, without fear of what it might mean—had all your heart threatening to pump right out of your chest and land on the floor beneath you. His voice, the quiet certainty in his tone, the way his gaze held yours without wavering—it was too much.

Your lips pressed into a tight line, as if to keep words from escaping you, as if it could stop everything from seeping through the cracks. Crumbling under the intensity of his gaze, the weight of his words, the wanting his touch left in its wake.

His fingertips still ghosted over your skin, light yet burning, grounding yet unsteading—caught in the strange balance between too much and not enough. And though you were outside, it seemed there wasn’t enough air for you—each one of your senses overwhelmed with something distictly Remus.

You wanted to look away. Needed to. If you could just turn your head, break the moment, maybe then you could breathe properly, think again. Maybe then, the seconds wouldn’t feel so suffocating. But you couldn’t. You were frozen in place, trapped, imprisoned under his gaze—he was still, patient—searching, waiting.

The moments continued to stretch, until you finally parted you lips, exaling shallow and testing, as if you’d forgotten how to breath. Voice meek and quieter than you’d meant it to be.

“I didn’t mean to disappear,”

It was the truth. But only part of it.

The rest of the words died, heavy on your tongue, unwilling to be spoken aloud.

But it seemed easier that way. But that was the only way you knew how to survive.

That every time you saw him, it felt like pressing on an open wound, one that was so far away from healing, one that probably never would. But you didn’t say it. You couldn’t.

Remus hummed softly, and there was something knowing in the sound, something that made your stomach twist. He could see it—could feel it. That there was more. That there had always been more. And for so long, he had let it slide, let it slip through the cracks, let you get away with unfinished thoughts and lingering pauses, mystery and obsurity, silences that stretched too long between words.

But not this time.

His voice was steadier when he spoke again, pressing, “But?”

Your throat bobbed, struggling to swallow, fingers curling into your sleeves, curling into yourself as the temptation to look away won, eyes flickering down the the grass.

He tilted his head slightly, compelling your gaze onto him, studying your face with careful intent, reassuring, he was so close—one hand just barely ghosting over the fabric that rested over the dip in your waist, and the other’s palm pressed flush against the skin of your neck—spreading the heat that already prickled down your spine even further.

“It seemed easier,” the words trembled, breaking slightly at the end, and his brows pinched high on his brow at the raw cadance your voice took, but he still wouldn’t let you look away—forcing your presence in the moment, forcing you to not drift away, not again.

He knew what you meant, the words hung heavy in the air, bouncing and echoing in Remus’ brain over and over again, easier. Easier to allow the distance between you to build. Easier to fade away before his very eyes. Easier to just escape everything. Even if it did hollow you out.

His fingertips curled slightly where they rested, finally grasping on to you, palm warm against your waist, anchoring you, tethering you to him in a way that made escape impossible. Touch still cradling the side of your neck, firm but gentle, thumb running over your pulse, feeling it race beneath him.

Pursing his lips together, exhaling through his nose, the guilt in your eyes so clear to him, but he wasn’t satisfied, he wasn’t going to accept half truths anymore—you’d both already wasted so much time, he couldn’t stomach the idea of letting this go on any longer than it already had.

“Was it?”

The second the words left his lips and reached your ears, he could feel the way you tensed in his hold, your breath catching in your throat as though the very question had knocked the air from your lungs.

Your lips parted, a response forming—then hesitating, your voice failing you entirely. You swallowed thickly, gaze flickering over his face, searching for something—what, you didn’t know. A way out, maybe. A sign that he’d let it drop.

But he wouldn’t. Not this time.

His hand at your waist shifted, his fingers pressing gently into the fabric of your shirt, thumb tracing absent, soothing patterns against your side. He was patient, unyielding but never forceful, his grip warm, grounding. And the way he looked at you—soft, knowing, understanding in a way that made your chest ache—was so much. Too much.

Your lips moved soundlessly at first, as if your thoughts were warring with your voice, stuck somewhere deep in your throat. And he just waited, unwavering, unwavering in the way only Remus could be, the way that made you feel like there was nothing in the world except this moment.

Finally, you breathed out, “I—”

Then nothing.

You swallowed, throat dry, you weren’t sure you wanted to be here, standing in front of him with nowhere left to run, no more room to hide behind half-truths and evasions. Lips parting, then closing, then parting again, like the words were caught somewhere deep in your throat, tangled and knotted together, refusing to be spoken aloud.

“You… you were happy,” you murmured, voice trembling, like you were forcing the words out through a tight throat. Your fingers twitched against the fabric of his sweater, eyes darting away. “It just made sense—”

His head shook before you could even finish.

No.

He knew you were skirting around it. Knew you’d try to twist the truth, try to say just enough without saying anything at all, try to dance around the edges of what you really meant, as if that would be enough. As if he would let it be enough.

He wouldn’t let you. Not now.

The words came haltingly, breaking as they stumbled out of you. The effort of articulating the truth left you trembling, and as soon as the words left your lips, you instinctively broke eye contact, unable to bear it any longer. But Remus would not let you drift away.

"No, no, no, no—" The words were quiet, but firm, insistent. His hands moved then, slipping from your waist to your face, cradling it so delicately, so reverently, like you might shatter if he wasn’t careful. "Look—look at me…please," his eyes searching yours with an urgency that made your pulse race. Touch steadying you, and despite the tremor in your body, you found yourself listening, unable to look away.

“Was it easier?" he asked again, his voice low and sympathetic, each word a gentle command that left little room for evasion.

You knew it. He knew it.

But saying it—admitting it—felt like standing at the edge of something bottomless, staring down at the unknown.

In the quiet that followed, your eyes became glossy with tears as you shook your head slowly, once, twice, until you couldn’t stand it, everything just too much to contain, eyes squeezing shut.

Remus's thumb came up to gently wipe away the wet drops from the corners of your eyes, his touch both tender and apologetic. Leaning forward, he rested his forehead against yours. Voice, soft and laden with tenderness, that made the surface of your skin prickle, breaking through the silence once more.

"I know,"

That single word, conveyed all the unspoken emotions that had built up between you—the ache of separation, the pain of absence, the desperate hope and longing that you’d both let fester for too long.

You struggled to breathe, each inhalation more shallow and shuddering than the last, your lips trembling as you fought to contain the bubbling sobs. The sight made the depths of his stomach churn with concern.

The tip of his nose brushed against yours, and wisps of his hair skimmed the surface of your cheeks as he let his hand slip down to pull you closer, his palm rubbing soothing circles into the small of your back. He coaxed your ragged breaths into a steadier rhythm, his voice just above a whisper and lulling as he murmured—

“I know, I know. I’m sorry, love.” softer, like he was absorbing the ache from your chest into his own.

You clenched your hands into the fabric of his shirt, gripping so tightly your knuckles ached, like if you let go, you might lose yourself completely.

His thumb brushed against your cheek, catching the last remnants of your tears, and for a moment, neither of you spoke, neither of you moved. You could feel his heartbeat—fast, unsteady, as if it was caught in the same whirlwind you were. He swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing slightly, eyes searching yours for something—hesitation, permission, an answer to a question he hadn’t spoken aloud.

Remus’ lips parted slightly, like he was about to say something, but no words came—just a slow exhale, like he was finally letting himself from getting lost in you.

Closing the gap, his lips ghosting, shy—testing over yours.

So you leaned into him instead, letting yourself fall into the warmth of his touch, into the way his fingers curled slightly against your jaw as he tilted his head to deepen the kiss. It was slow, unhurried, like a quiet confession in itself—one that had been waiting far too long to be spoken. The weight of unsaid words, of time lost and wounds left open, all melted away in the spaces where your lips met, where his hands held you like you were something precious, something he was terrified to let slip through his fingers again.

His thumb traced delicate patterns against your cheek, a stark contrast to the quiet urgency with which he kissed you, as if trying to make up for every moment he had spent holding himself back. Your fingers, still trembling from the unraveling of emotion just moments before, found their way into the fabric of his shirt, anchoring yourself to him, grounding yourself in something tangible. He sighed against your lips, the sound reverberating through your bones, pulling you deeper into him, into this fleeting eternity you had both fallen into.

Finally able to bask in each other, in the way your breaths tangled between kisses, in the way his hands pulled you closer without hesitation—no more space, no more running. Just this. Just you and him.

The world outside of this moment ceased to exist, the weight of time and consequence nothing more than a whisper against the night air. Two entwined souls that had the fortune to overlap at this singular moment in time, comfortable, peaceful—fated.

[uhhlifeig]

Pull - March 27 - word count: 313 - @wolfstarmicrofic

There was a sort of… gravitational pull around Sirius, Remus presumed.

Similarly to how stars would attract smaller celestial bodies, Sirius was able to grab everyone’s attention and hold it, make them stare right at him.

His name was quite fitting.

On the other hand, the moon could only reflect light. 

It had no glow of its own, no inner warmth. It was only a hunk of rock, a remnant from when Earth had been crashed into by another.

It was too small to have gravity that was even comparable to a stars’, too small to have an atmosphere- too insignificant to be anything, really.

His name was apt, as well.

Remus felt as if he were a speck of dust orbiting around a greater force, getting sucked in closer and closer until he winked out, falling irretrievably into a chasm of nonexistence.

The moon who fell for a star; a story of tragedy and loss, forever told to the younger generations.

They were doomed to fail, for Sirius’s overwhelming brightness to blind him.

That was alright with Remus. 

He just wanted to savor the time they had left, the little while before Sirius would consume him whole, body and soul, and then leave him for another.

It was inevitable; the slow-motion plunge into freezing water, the hands that would pull him under, the lack of fight that he would show.

He had accepted it long ago, in third year- he would never be good enough.

For now, he supposed that it was good, great, even, but there would be a day where Remus would no longer suffice for the boy named after the brightest star.

The sand in his hourglass was slowly trickling out of the miniscule cracks.

He sighed, turning over in bed and soaking in his boyfriend’s warmth.

He would be alone soon; he knew it in his creaking bones.

[sincerelybubbles]

fatigued || james potter x reader

james soothes you like no other, always gentle and easy with you on the days where you can’t manage to be anything other than a puddle.

warnings: none, fluff, reader is bed (couch) rotting, unfinished

//

James finds you on the couch again, curled into the cushions, half-buried under the same throw blanket that’s been draped over you for days now. Your hair’s mussed, cheeks pressed against the pillow, breath steady and quiet in the dim light of the room. It’s the third day in a row he’s come home to this—your body sinking into the sofa as if the weight of the week has pinned you down, leaving you boneless and tired.

“Merlin,” he breathes, so soft it barely stirs the air. His brow furrows as he toes off his shoes, shedding the day at the door before he pads over to you.

James kneels beside the couch first, brushing a strand of hair from your temple, fingertips featherlight against your skin. There’s a warmth in his gaze, a tenderness that swells in his chest, filling every space where worry had settled.

“Still here, dove?” he murmurs, not really expecting an answer, but the corner of your mouth twitches as if the sound of his voice reaches somewhere deep.

And James—James can’t help himself. He climbs onto the couch, carefully molding his body to yours, slotting himself in behind you as if he’s been made to fit this space. One arm drapes over your waist, pulling you close, while his other hand traces gentle circles against your wrist. His nose finds the curve where your neck meets your shoulder, breathing you in like a remedy.

“‘M here now,” he whispers, barely a breath against your skin. “You can rest, yeah? I’ll stay right here.”

His heart beats steady against your back, and somewhere in the haze between sleep and waking, you let yourself sink deeper into the warmth of him.

James presses closer, his body a steady weight behind you, the heat of him sinking into your bones like sunlight after a bitter winter. His chest rises and falls, the rhythm lulling, his breath fanning over the nape of your neck where goosebumps bloom in its wake. His arm tightens around your waist, pulling you flush against him, and you feel it—all of him—tucking into the spaces where the cold had settled, where the ache of too many long days had made a home.

He’s warmth and honey, sticky and slow, pouring into the cracks you didn’t even know had formed. His hand, broad and calloused in places from gripping a broom and tossing quaffles, smooths over your waist, his thumb brushing back and forth in a lazy pattern, soothing and grounding all at once. It feels like he’s memorizing the shape of you again, mapping out every curve and hollow as if he can press himself into you by touch alone.

“Cold, love?” he murmurs, lips grazing the shell of your ear, his voice thick and low, drowsy with affection.

You hum softly, shifting closer, but there’s no space left between you. He’s everywhere—his thigh warm beneath yours, his chest pressed so tight to your back that you can feel the steady thrum of his heart, a metronome to the stillness that’s settled over the room.

“Not anymore,” you mumble, words slurring as sleep tries to drag you under again, but James—James keeps you tethered with his touch, his thumb brushing lazy arcs against your skin, dipping just beneath the hem of your shirt where the heat of his palm spreads like sunlight.

“Good,” he whispers, pressing a kiss to your hair, his lips barely a brush of warmth that lingers long after.

And it’s enough.

The weight in your chest eases, the tightness in your throat loosens, and for the first time in days, you breathe. James is the sun seeping into the coldest parts of you, coaxing warmth from where it had retreated, pulling you back into yourself with every steady, unhurried touch.

“‘M not going anywhere,” he murmurs again, more to himself than to you, his voice barely above a breath, but it wraps around you like a promise.

And this time—this time, you believe it.

Your hand finds his where it rests against your stomach, your fingers slipping between his, lacing together in the quiet. James tightens his hold, his thumb brushing over your knuckles in soft, steady strokes.

“Rest, dove,” he murmurs again, his breath warm against your neck, his body curved protectively around yours. “I’ve got you.”

And he does—he always does.

Time stretches, bending softly around the warmth of James beside you, the steady lull of his voice weaving in and out of your fading consciousness. He’s been murmuring quietly for the past hour, his words threading through the haze of your sleep, talking about his day—how he’d spent half of it helping his dad with a complicated potion that had stubbornly refused to settle, the fumes thick and acrid even after hours of stirring. He tells you how his dad had sighed, pinched the bridge of his nose, and muttered something about “the bloody inconsistency of powdered moonstone,” before handing James the stirring rod with a look that screamed “you deal with it.”

“Thought I had it under control,” James murmurs, his lips brushing against your temple, his words blending into the warmth of his breath. “But then it started bubbling over like a cauldron in first-year Potions, and my dad just looked at me, all disappointed. Didn’t say a word, just cast Scourgify and walked away.” He sighs, the sound rumbling low in his chest, though there’s a hint of amusement beneath the exasperation. “And then Mum had to spend an hour scrubbing the ceiling.”

You make a soft noise, half a hum, half a sigh, your body sinking deeper into the cocoon of warmth he’s built around you. But then—then—he shifts, untangling himself with a carefulness that’s almost reverent, his movements slow and deliberate, as if he’s afraid to wake you.

“No,” you mumble, your voice heavy with sleep, latching onto his wrist with weak fingers, eyes barely cracking open as he tries to slip away.

“Shh, dove,” James soothes, his lips brushing over your forehead, but you’re already protesting, your grip on him tightening with what little strength you can muster.

“Don’t go.” Your words are slurred, muffled against the worn fabric of his jumper that smells so much like him—like woodsmoke and something sweet, something James. You shift, untangling your limbs just enough to slouch further into the couch, your face buried in the hollow of his shoulder, a sleepy pout tugging at your lips. “Stay.”

James chuckles softly, the sound a low, affectionate thing that makes your heart flutter.

“Sweetheart,” he murmurs, his voice warm and indulgent, his thumb brushing over the curve of your jaw as he tries—and fails—to peel himself away. “I’ve got to make us something to eat. You can’t survive on tea and toast forever, you know.”

“Don’t care,” you grumble, burrowing deeper, your nose pressing into his neck where the scent of him lingers the strongest. “Stay.”

James huffs a laugh, and you can hear the smile in his voice when he speaks again.

“You’re impossible, you know that?”

“Mm,” you hum, a little more awake now but still refusing to loosen your hold. “But you love me.”

“More than anything,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head, lingering there as if he can pour every ounce of his affection into the gesture.

But then he pulls back, just enough to look down at you, his hazel eyes warm and filled with that quiet, unwavering devotion that makes your heart ache in the best way.

“Come on, dove,” he coaxes gently, fingers brushing over your cheek before tapping your nose lightly, making you scrunch it up in sleepy protest. “Let me take care of you, yeah?”

You pout again, but this time, there’s no real fight left in you.

“Fine,” you mumble, finally loosening your grip, though you don’t move far, still slouched against him, your head tilted up as you gaze at him through heavy-lidded eyes.

James grins, pressing one last lingering kiss to your lips—soft and sweet, a promise and a reassurance all at once—before he finally, finally untangles himself completely, standing up and stretching with a groan.

“I’ll be quick,” he promises, already moving toward the kitchen, but not before casting one last glance over his shoulder, his eyes twinkling with affection.

“And if you fall asleep again before I get back,” he teases, a wicked grin tugging at the corner of his mouth, “I’m waking you up with kisses. Everywhere.”

The threat—or promise—has warmth pooling in your stomach, and despite your earlier protest, you can’t help but smile as you watch him disappear into the kitchen, your heart swelling with the kind of love that leaves you breathless.

here’s the unfinished draft i promised <3 if u know me u know pmdd is my biggest opp so i hope you enjoyed self indulgent jamie helping reader out

[walaburgasaplusparenting]

One thing that really annoys me about Regulus fan art and fics is that THEY MAKE HIM A LITTLE BOY. JUST BC HES A YEAR YOUNGER THAN THE MARAUDERS DOES NOT MEAN HES A FUCKING CHILD MY MAN DOES NOT DESERVE SUCH A BABY FACE ALL THE TIME HE WAS REGAL OKAY???? AFGDHFSGVCJHDSFVVJYSSBV

[17ratsinafleshsuit]

Y'all should I write a marauders fic where theyre in a production of wicked??? Jegulus and wolfstar ofc OO MAYBE SOME MOONWATER TOO DJDJJDSJJDHCJDJSJX

(please say yes I need to fuse my hyperfixations together 😭😭😭)

[rabidlittlestrawberry]

So this super fun thing has happened. turns out I can only write Growing Pains with gossip girl playing in the background…

It’s on right now

[literary-chameleon]

"Hey, Evans! Got a new book for me?” He asked. Sirius hoped not. He hadn't stopped talking about The Hobbit that he had read during the Christmas holidays.

“You haven't returned the last book yet," Lily said plainly.

"I liked it a bit too much. I have kept it to read it again."

“I'm not lending you anymore then."

"You're so harsh on me!” James pulled a puppy face.

Sirius could never tell if they were flirting or fighting.

Read Here.

[ecstarry]

@into-the-jeggyverse // out // 245 words (old prompt but it worked)

“I just feel so fucking clingy.” James said, collapsing on the bed. 

“So?” Regulus replied. He tugged at James’ shirt, but the brown-eyed man resisted Regulus' gesture. 

“This is the part where you reassure me and tell me that I'm not clingy.” James pouted.

“But you are.” Regulus laughed. 

He pulled James harder this time. James rendered under his touch but refused to look at him. 

“Really?” His mouth downturned in an instant. 

“That’s not a bad thing, love.” Regulus’ hand reached for James’ chin, brushing his thumb carefully across his jaw. “I like you like that.”

“Clingy?” James’ eyes remained closely pressed together. 

“Yes.” Regulus promised. “I missed you this week.”  

James opened his eyes and pressed himself closer to Regulus, as if there was a magic comfort that only his boyfriend’s chest could provide. 

“So you don’t get annoyed?” 

“No, James.” Regulus said, running his fingers through James’ hair. 

“Not ever?” 

“Baby.” Regulus said, even softer this time, letting the love that only James was privy to linger on his tone. 

“Not even right now?”

“Let me repeat it.” Regulus took the back of James’ hand and pressed a gentle kiss. “Not-” he continued kissing James’ hand until he reached the tip of his index finger “- ever.” 

James moaned as Regulus’ tongue touched his finger, swirling around it. Regulus always knew how to get James out of his own head. 

“Can you keep repeating that?” James pleaded. 

“As much as you want, love.”

[g1rld1ary]

heart shaped doodles - james potter x reader

wc: 836

summary: you accidentally get given james' essay, covered in doodles with your intials together

me: wrote this in one sitting i love loverboy james!!!!!

════ ⋆��⋆ ════

you were in agonies waiting for your latest potions essay. usually, you had a pretty good grasp of how you were doing academically, but this last project just had you muddled and confused.

the confusion you felt about your essay, though, was completely overshadowed by the utter bewilderment you experienced as you looked down at the piece of paper slughorn had handed you.

all over the heading and through the margins laid doodled hearts, slightly smudged from carelessness. even stranger than the hearts was that your initials sat right in the middle of them, paired with the unmistakable ‘j.p.’.

you quickly paged through the rest of the essay, face draining of colour at the characteristic chicken scratch — and even more so at the clearly accidental inclusion of a page in the middle, filled with doodles and the repeated mantra of ‘mr james’ followed by your last name.

before you could process what you’d just read slughorn snatched the essay out of your hands, booming laugh echoing through the potions classroom.

“sorry about that,” he shook his head as if to reprimand himself, “i must have gotten confused with your initials being all over it.” that got the class’ attention, and several gryffindors craned their necks to catch a glance of the paper as the professor passed.

when slughorn finally made it to james’ desk, dropping the essay down silently, the class erupted into chaos. teasing and heckling ensued as both you and james sunk into your seats, and you were sure your face was the same shade of red as his.

slughorn failed spectacularly at controlling the class after the revelation that the james potter had a crush on you. and not just any crush, a doodle-your-names-together-in-the-margins, down-bad kind of crush. knowing that no more learning was going to happen slughorn dismissed you all, and you had plans to run straight to your dorm and hide there until everyone stopped caring about the whole incident.

remus lupin was immediately at your side, chatting to you about something you weren’t particularly interested in, but you were too polite to tell him of your hibernation plans. you nodded and agreed with him until you were the only ones left in the classroom. apart from james.

you froze, panic overtaking you as you stumbled to put the last of your things in your bag and run when a voice called your name. you knew instantly it was james and turned slowly to face him, forcing yourself to reluctantly make eye contact.

there was still a light dusting of blush above his cheekbones, and the way he was rubbing the back of his neck betrayed his own nervousness.

“hey,” he said, hand clutching the single strap of his bag.

“hi,” you replied, trying to stop your hands from shaking.

“so you, uh, saw my paper?”

“yeah,” you breathed, “um, congrats on the ‘o’ by the way. wish it really was my essay.” james laughed softly at your joke, messing up his hair for something to do.

“i could help you sometime! if you need it, of course.” james cringed at his own reply, the instant realisation that it maybe wasn’t the right thing to say at the moment.

“right,” you trailed off, “well, i’m gonna—”

“wait!” james reached out, a hand catching your bicep lightly. it sent goosebumps up and down the length of your arm. you looked at james expectantly, heart hammering in your chest.

“look, i — fuck. there’s no point pretending we both don’t know now. i really like you. like, an embarrassing amount, as everyone’s discovered today. and i wasn’t gonna do anything about it because i figured you’re so out of my league and aren’t interested, but i suppose i’ve already made a fool out of myself today, might as well full send it. so, what do you say? can i take you out to hogsmeade sometime?”

you pretended to mull it over to give your internal voice time to scream. james potter was without a doubt the hottest guy in school, not to mention smart and funny and good at everything he tried. and he wanted to go out with you! if he wasn’t watching you with anxious interest you thought you might’ve passed out. instead, you played it cool.

“yeah,” you said, smile creeping out despite your best efforts, “yeah, that sounds like fun.”

you almost had to shield your eyes when james beamed, practically its own light source.

“cool!” he said, too loud and fast, “next weekend?” you nodded with almost equal enthusiasm, the two of you sharing the same giggly grins.

behind james you caught a glance of slughorn through the crack in his office door, smiling fondly at the both of you. maybe his slip-up wasn’t so accidental.

“so,” james said, intertwining your fingers boldly as you both turned to leave, “you need me to be your tutor?”

[brokenmenswhore]

a proposition: a return | poly!marauders

#4

pairing: poly!marauders x fem!reader (james, remus, and sirius, featuring alecto, dorcas, evan, lily, marlene, and mary)

warnings: smut (MDNI 18+), voyeurism

a/n: if you’ve requested to be on the taglist but didn’t get tagged, check the taglist at the bottom to see if your account is unlinked, and if so check your settings to make sure i can tag you! i added everyone’s @ even if it didn’t let me tag an account to it. also i don’t have it in me to proofread 17 times anymore sorry for any errors

a proposition: masterlist

────── ☾ ──────

When you approached the girls, who were seated around their usual Gryffindor table after class for a study session, you were immediately thrown by the unfamiliar face among them.

“Y/N! Come sit!”

Lily’s usual excitement shone through as she patted the empty spot on the bench next to her. You tentatively sat down, hoping someone would introduce you to the unfamiliar person, but she was occupying the group too much to even take notice of you.

“And they call the bin a trash can. I mean talk about being literal, right? I swear, if one more person over there called something by the exact descriptor of what it was, I would have thrown a book at their head.”

The table chuckled at her story.

“Marlene, this is Y/N,” Lily chimed in once the girl was done speaking.

Marlene turned her head toward you, scanning the visible portion of your body before landing on your face. “Hey.”

“Hey,” you responded, flushed and uncomfortable.

“So you’re a part of this group now?” Marlene asked completely unprompted.

You were slightly taken aback. “Yeah, yeah, I guess.”

“Well you either are or you aren’t.”

You stared at her for a moment, unsure of how to act. You had never met this person, and now she was snapping at you. “I am.”

Instead of responding to you, Marlene turned to Lily and said, “I thought this was a set thing? Since when do we let new people in?”

“God, Marls, it’s not like there’s a rule book,” Dorcas said.

“We literally all agreed, Dorcas,” Marlene bounced back.

“And we all agreed to include Y/N,” Lily smiled, refusing to include herself in the tension of the conversation.

“I didn’t,” Marlene responded, leaning on her elbows over the table in a confrontational stance.

“You weren’t here,” Dorcas fought.

Marlene took a deep breath before grabbing her books and standing up. “I’ll see you guys later,” she said, exiting the Great Hall in a huff.

You looked around in hopes that someone, anyone, would explain to you exactly what just happened. Instead, the table stayed quiet, refusing to acknowledge any of it as they continued studying.

You were too nervous to ask, so you pretended like nothing happened as you pulled out your books.

The next day, in between classes, you ran into Sirius in the library. You were met with two consecutive free blocks, which allowed you time to study. Sirius, on the other hand, just didn’t feel like attending charms.

“Aren’t you usually in class right now?” he said, catching you browsing through the shelves of books.

“Mhm.”

“You’re skipping?”

“I have it free today.”

Sirius furrowed his brow as he studied your face. It was unlike you to be so dry in your answers.

“You okay?” he asked.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” you said, engrossed in your own thoughts about Marlene and her reaction to you. You hadn’t realized how you were speaking to Sirius.

“Wanna sit for a second?” Sirius said, nonchalant as if your answer wouldn’t phase him.

“Sure,” you shrugged, approaching a nearby table.

Sirius sat across from you, studying your face as you tried to arrange your books. You peered up at him for a second, noticing his gaze but pretending you didn’t.

You thought about speaking, but weren’t capable of acting as though you weren’t bothered. If this person was part of the group, surely Sirius knew her already, so you decided to test it out.

“Marlene’s back, you know,” you said, as if you were completely in the know about everything regarding this mysterious new person.

“I know,” Sirius responded, pulling out a cigarette and lighting it.

You waited to see if he would elaborate any further, but he simply sat there, smoking his cigarette, staring at you.

“I didn’t even know she existed until this morning,” you said, “is there a reason no one told me? She was pretty cold to me.”

“That’s just Marlene,” Sirius brushed it off. He seemed as if he didn’t want to talk about it, but you couldn’t stop yourself from pushing it.

“Where has she been? I’ve never seen her before,” you asked.

Sirius sighed. “She spent a year at Ilvermorny.”

You were getting frustrated from how little information Sirius was giving you. He was strategically only answering your exact question, and only doing so in the most concise way possible.

“Why?” you pressed.

“Wanted a year away,” he said.

You sighed. “Sirius, you’re not giving me much.”

Sirius sat upward, leaning his elbows on the table and smiling in amusement at your interest. “Why so curious?”

“Just wondering what happened is all.”

Sirius saw the intrigue on your face and caved. “She took a year away from here after a bunch of drama happened. She was falling pretty hard for someone in our group and that person wasn’t really the monogamous type. They got in a huge fight, the whole group was there- it got really messy. She couldn’t take it anymore and decided to transfer schools. Guess she’s back now,” he finally explained.

“She wasn’t supposed to come back?”

“I have no idea. She only told Dorcas she was leaving. That’s the only reason we all knew.”

You nodded your head, flipping through the pages of a textbook as if this new information meant nothing of importance to you.

“So she left the group?”

Sirius sighed. “She left the school, Y/N. I don’t think anyone expected her to show back up.”

“So she never officially left the group.”

“Why would it matter?” Sirius smiled, “you jealous of her or somethin’?”

“What? No,” you said, “I just didn’t know this person existed and she was a real bitch to me earlier. Just wondering why.”

Sirius leaned an arm over the table and put his hand over yours. “You have nothin’ to worry about.”

The gesture was unlike Sirius, but you appreciated it nevertheless, and you smiled at him to show it.

────── ☾ ──────

“So you’re in this now, hm?”

You, startled by the sudden voice, whipped your head around to see Marlene McKinnon jogging to catch up to you in the hallway.

“Yeah,” you said as you continued on your route to class.

“What’s so special that you’ve got Sirius Black asking for you to join? You that good of a lay? The whore of Hufflepuff?”

You stopped on your tracks, wiping stray hairs out of your face as you huffed, “what?”

“I just mean, Sirius isn’t really one to pick and choose,” she said, sizing you up, “you must have gotten a glowing endorsement from someone. Let me guess, Remus?”

“I don’t know what you’re on about,” you brushed her off.

“Sirius Black wouldn’t invite a lower-year virgin into our little group,” Marlene said, “he just wouldn’t. So fess up.”

“This is insane,” you said, turning forward and beginning to walk again.

Marlene stepped in front of you, cutting you off as you nearly walked straight into her.

“I have class,” you stated dryly.

“You won’t last, you know,” Marlene started, “once the shiny new toy gets played with a few times, they’ll get bored and throw it away.”

“What’s your problem?” you said, surprising yourself with your confrontation. Being in this group was making you more confident in yourself.

“Don’t have one,” Marlene said, “just trying to get the scoop, since I was so rudely left out.”

“I have class,” you repeated.

“Oh, don’t let me stop you, but I should warn you that those boys don’t tend to stick with the good girls.”

“That’s too bad, since I’m already in the group,” you fought back, sick of her insults.

“For now,” Marlene said, smiling triumphantly and she stepped to the side.

You shot her a look before walking off.

────── ☾ ──────

When you’d confided in Dorcas how Marlene had been treating you, you didn’t anticipate that she would become quite so enraged, pulling you around and collecting all the members of your group until you were all together.

Fuming, Dorcas finally took a seat.

“What’s goin’ on?” James asked.

“A good ol’ Dorcas summoning,” Evan joked.

Dorcas sat in silence, nostrils flaring as she stared at Marlene.

“Well?” Marlene said, legs and arms crossed, “what is it?”

“Have you been threatening Y/N?”

Marlene immediately threw her hands up. “What am I, on trial? Fuck this.”

She began to stand, but Sirius stood as well. “Sit down,” he said, and she sighed, but did as she was told.

You were taken aback by how serious he was being. You hasn’t even told him what Marlene said to you.

“I didn’t threaten her,” Marlene said.

“So you didn’t tell her she’s a toy we’ll all get bored of playing with?”

The heads in the room all turned to Marlene. “Why does it matter? If she can’t handle being part of this, then she shouldn’t be a part of it.”

“You can’t just bully her out because you’re jealous.”

“Jealous of what, Dorcas? Hm? The fact she’s in the goodie two-shoes house?”

“Guys,” you tried to chime in, but it got lost in the tension.

“Oh, you know what,” Dorcas spat.

Dorcas and Marlene both stood, their voices growing louder and louder.

“No, I don’t. Tell me Dorcas, what the fuck do I have to be jealous of? Some young little girl who doesn’t even know how to fuck?”

“Guys,” you tried again.

“Why did you even come back, Marlene?” Dorcas retaliated.

“What, you didn’t miss me?”

“One day you’re my best friend, and the next you just leave a note like ‘oh! I can’t do it anymore and I’m transferring to America, bye!’ and I’m just supposed to jump up and down in joy when you suddenly decide we’re worthy enough to have you back?”

Marlene plopped back into her chair. “This is bullshit, I’m not doing this. Did you really call us all here just to yell at me in front of everyone?”

“No,” Dorcas said, “I called us all here to vote you out.”

The room stilled for a moment before Marlene scoffed. “To vote me out?”

“Guys!” you finally yelled, and it caught their attention, “can we please calm down?”

“You wanna vote me out? Are you kidding me?”

“No, I’m not kidding you.”

Marlene and Dorcas stared at each other, intensity in their eyes as Remus finally tried to calm the situation down.

“Marlene, things are a little different than when you were here before,” Remus said, “I think it’s only fair that you’re either okay with that, or you’re out.”

“Oh yeah?” Marlene replied, “and what’s different? Besides the Huffle-slut.”

You threw your hands in the air, exhausted of Marlene’s inexplicable hatred toward you.

“Well, for starters, are you over him?” Remus asked.

Marlene stared at Remus blankly, almost as if she was trying to think her way out of answering, but couldn’t.

You looked around the room, but everyone was too focused on Marlene’s answer to provide you with any explanation. You couldn’t help but feel left out of something.

“Yeah,” Marlene shrugged.

“I don’t believe you,” Dorcas said.

“Go cry about it,” Marlene spat.

“Stop, fuckin’ hell,” Remus sighed, “are you or are you not okay with Y/N being here?”

“Clearly I’m not, mom.”

Remus huffed and stood up. “Well, fuck this, I’m done trying,” he said, walking over to the ashtray and flicking embers off the butt of his cigarette.

The room stilled, everyone unsure of what to do.

“You guys shouldn’t have agreed on anyone new without me,” Marlene spoke up.

“Bloody hell, you were gone, you fucking idiot,” Dorcas said, “and we had no reason to think you were coming back. What were we gonna do, send an owl? Fuck off.”

“Can she even fuck?”

“Give it a rest, Marlene,” Sirius spoke up.

“No, I wanna know. Can you fuck?” she said, turning to you.

Your eyes widened. “I’m not dignifying that with an answer,” you stated.

“Prove it.”

“Prove what?”

“Prove that you can fuck like a big girl.”

You looked around the group in disbelief. “Excuse me?”

“Pick someone here, and prove it.”

“Marlene, come on, shut the fuck u-“

Sirius was cut off by Marlene pressing on, “pick someone and let’s get on with it, Hufflepuff.”

A feeling shot straight to your core at the thought of having to fuck someone in front of the entire group. You were too worked up.

You looked up at Remus, who had been your obsession and your safe person thus far, and waited to see his expression. Marlene noticed your attention turn to him.

“Remus it is,” she said, moving the coffee table away from the center of the room, “hurry up. Let’s go.”

“I don’t think-“ Remus started.

“You know what? Fuck you, Marlene,” Dorcas said, rushing over to you.

Dorcas leaned down and kissed you hard, the kiss full of intensity and fire and anger. You were startled, but quickly started to kiss her back. This was your group, not hers anymore. If she wanted to see you fuck, she’d get a good show before she was kicked out.

Dorcas dropped to her knees in front of you. She propped one of your legs up against the armrest on the side of the couch.

Dorcas propped up your other leg and pushed it toward James, who was sitting right next to you. “Hold her, will ya?” Dorcas said.

James nodded, taking hold of your right leg.

With your legs widespread, your skirt bunched up at your waist.

“You consent?” Dorcas asked.

You nodded your head yes.

Dorcas wasted no time pushing your underwear to the side and diving in, flattening her tongue against you and moving up and down.

Your head tilted backward as you sighed, your eyes squeezed shut as you tried not to focus on the several pairs of eyes on you. You leaned onto James, trying to somewhat hide your face in his neck,

Dorcas was someone you’d always assumed would be rough in the bedroom, and she was angry and worked up over the Marlene situation, however, you were surprised by how soft and gentle she was being. You knew it was intentional for you.

She was in no rush, moving her tongue slowly against you. You thought of something Lily had told you previously: Girls give better head because they know what truly feels good.

You whimpered each time Dorcas swirled her tongue particularly well, and James lightly rubbed his thumb across your leg, comforting you on top of the pleasure.

“Jeez,” Evan spoke from across the room.

Marlene slouched in her chair in a huff, her eyes fixed on everyone else in the room, trying to gage their reactions to you.

You let out a light squeal when Dorcas began to trace around your hole with her finger, alerting you of an oncoming intrusion.

She slowly slipped one finger inside of you, again in no rush as you softly moaned at the sensation. Her mouth never detached from you as she began to pump her finger in and out of you.

James stroked your thigh with his fingers as he watched Dorcas eat you out, occasionally kissing the top of your head to remind you that you were okay. He also just wanted the validation of feeling included. James liked to feel needed.

Everyone was watching intently, turned on by the sight in front of them. Marlene was focused on everyone else, and Sirius took a drag of his cigarette every time James leaned in to kiss your head.

“Shit, I-“

You spoke so low that only James could hear it. James tapped Dorcas to warn her that you were about to come, and instead of following through, she stood up and backed away from you.

You instinctively closed your legs, remaining in your comfortable position against James.

“That wasn’t shit,” Marlene said, “you really want that in here?”

“Who said we were done?” Dorcas spat back.

Dorcas grabbed Remus’s arm and pulled him over to the empty space on the rug where the coffee table used to be.

Remus looked at Dorcas expectantly, but she just raised her eyebrows and gestured toward the floor.

Remus threw his hands up. “Yeah, it’s a nice rug.”

Dorcas sighed and pushed his shoulders until he was kneeling on the floor.

“You could have just fuckin’ told me where you wanted me, damn,” Remus said.

“Y/N?”

You were still slouched into James, trying to calm your breathing despite your core being on fire from the abrupt stop to your pleasure. “Mhm,” you vocalized.

When you didn’t receive an answer, you forced your eyes open to see the entire room staring at you.

“Think you’re needed down there, angel,” James whispered to you, nodding toward Remus.

You took a deep breath. You dropped to your knees and sat in front of Remus. He leaned in to your ear and whispered, “I’m gonna take care of you, baby.”

He kissed your cheek before he adjusted himself to a lay, sprawled out against the rug and waiting for you to sit on him.

You adjusted your legs around his waist, grateful Dorcas didn’t take your skirt fully off. You were still clothed and modest to the group.

“Remus doesn’t like to be kept waiting,” Marlene said.

“Don’t you speak for me, I’m doing just fine down here,” Remus said, placing his hands behind his head as he watched you in amusement.

You blindly undid Remus’s belt, pulling it off of him as you began to unbutton his jeans. Remus pushed his jeans and boxers down just enough to free his already hard cock.

You began to pull your underwear to the side, but a voice stopped you.

“No no,” Marlene said, “fuckin’ amateur. Don’t you know Remus needs a little something first?”

You knew she was just messing with you and trying to prove that she knew everyone better than you, but you felt like you knew Remus above everyone in the room.

But, if she wanted a show, you’d give her a show.

You slowly backed up on your knees until you were between Remus’s legs. You remained on your knees, allowing your ass to stick upward and your skirt to fall onto your back, exposing your backside, as your hands found Remus’s cock.

You looked to Lily, who had taught you the little you knew so far, and she nodded at you so as to say “you got this.” Her approving nod gave you confidence.

You licked a stripe from the base of Remus’s cock to the tip before sinking down on the entire length. Remus was large, too large to fit entirely in your mouth without deepthroating, but you didn’t care. You were running on pure lust, anger, and adrenaline.

Remus was looking down at you, but when his tip hit the back of your throat, he slammed his head back against the floor, a satisfied moan leaving his lips.

You pulled away almost entirely before sinking back down again, deepthroating him once more.

“Fuckin’ hell,” Remus sighed.

You swallowed in uncomfortability at the feeling of his cock in your throat, which only added to his pleasure.

“Bloody hell, you can see him in your throat, Y/N,” Lily said, “do that again.”

You looked up at Remus, who looked down to see what Lily was talking about. You swallowed again, and Remus could see the slight bulge of his cock in the top of your throat.

“Holy fuck.”

You pulled away and began to suck him normally, maintaining a steady rhythm. You couldn’t taste all of him without deepthroating, so you used your hand to account for the base of his length.

You looked up at Marlene, who scoffed and looked away as you kept your gaze on her, evidently showing her your confidence and ability as you sucked off Remus.

Marlene looked around the room and saw everyone’s eyes trained on you. Sirius adjusted his position in his seat, and James was nearly salivating.

“Okay, enough, get to it then,” Marlene said.

You pulled off of Remus, making a show of wiping your lower lip as you moved upward until you were sitting on top of Remus.

His hands found your waist without hesitation. He was lost in pleasure and lust, eager to feel you again.

You pushed your underwear to the side and held onto Remus’s length with one hand, positioning it at your entrance.

You slowly sank down, watching Remus’s face for any uncomfortability, but he was immediately just to happy to be inside of you that he pushed his hips up.

You gasped at the sudden feeling of a thrust, and Remus snapped open his eyes and looked up at you.

“You okay?”

You leaned down and kissed Remus. “Fuck me, Rem.”

Remus used one hand to hold your hair as he pulled you back into a kiss, and the other hand gripped your waist to hold you in place as he began to fuck up into you.

You dropped your head into the crook of his neck, and he held your head there, happy to have a few moments where he was the only one who could hear your small whimpers and whines. James was right: he did enjoy being special to you.

Dorcas knelt beside your bodies and wrapped her fingers in your hair, pulling back until you were seated up. She tugged at the bottom of your shirt, pulling it up over your head. She then unclasped your bra and pulled the straps off of your arms.

She hungrily kissed you, keeping you sat up so that your body was on full display for everyone in the room.

She kissed down from your neck to your breasts, sucking on your nipple as you threw your head back in pleasure.

You felt a sudden pang of embarrassment, but it was quickly gone as you looked to your right. Alecto was pressing her legs together for dear life, Evan was holding a pillow between his legs, and Sirius was staring you dead in the eyes.

You stared back for a moment, matching his eye contact. He coughed on cigarette smoke, something he never did as a veteran smoker, but continued to look back at you.

Your attention was pulled by Dorcas, who kissed you again as Remus’s thrusts grew harder and faster.

You moaned out as you threw your head back, trying to lift your hips in rhythm with Remus, but he was thrusting a little too fast for you.

Dorcas noticed, and she crawled behind you, kneeling on the floor as she held your body against hers, ensuring you remained seated upward and on display.

She kissed the side of your neck, sucking on a sweet spot as you closed your eyes and allowed yourself to get lost in the pleasure. You tried not to think about Marlene or the voyeurism, but just to be present in the moments of pleasure.

Your moans grew higher in pitch until you began to clench around Remus.

“Fuck, Remus, I- shit, I can’t-“

“No fucking cop outs,” Marlene said.

Embarrassment flooded your cheeks. Saying it was hard. “I- I’m-“

“Merlin, Y/N, please say it,” Remus spoke through erratic breaths below you.

You took a deep breathe. “I- I’m gonna come, Remmy, please-“

Remus snapped his hips hard, hitting your sweet spot and causing you to come with just a few more thrusts. Dorcas held you through your high, causing your legs to shake and your body to nearly convulse from the intensity as Remus came in succession.

You blinked your eyes open, trying to catch your breath as Dorcas kissed your temple and stood up.

You wiped sweat from your forehead and looked down at Remus, who put his hands behind his head again and smiled up at you.

“Stay there as long as you like.”

You giggled and leaned down to kiss Remus as Dorcas gave you back your shirt.

With Remus still in you, you pulled your shirt over your head and looked at Marlene, eyebrows raised.

“Good enough for you?” you grinned.

Marlene shrugged, clearly bothered. “Nothing I couldn’t do better.”

“I beg to differ,” Remus sighed, “not a lot could top that.”

You leaned down and kissed Remus before carefully lifting your hips and sitting back on the floor. You knew better than to try to stand.

Remus took a moment before covering himself back up, and you both sat on the floor with your backs against the couch. No one said anything.

“Didn’t think you could get any hotter, but fuck was I wrong,” Evan said.

“Are you always the horniest one in the room?” you joked.

“I don’t know, is he?” Marlene said, turning toward Sirius.

Sirius flicked embers into an ashtray. “Meaning?”

Marlene’s voice was not as confident as before. “You seemed to enjoy the show.”

“Oh, come on, Marlene, don’t start shit right now. You got what you wanted, you saw her fuck. You in or out?”

Marlene looked around the room, and everyone was focused on her. She tucked a piece of hair behind her ear and leaned forward with her elbows on her knees.

“I’m already in. I never left the group,” she said dryly.

“One more shot,” Remus said, and Dorcas tried to speak up in protest, but Remus shushed her. “One more shot, but if you pull any shit, you’re out.”

Dorcas threw her hands in the air. “You come and suddenly you’re in a nice mood?”

“Y/N?” Remus said, looking to you, “that seem fair?”

You looked up at Marlene. She was clearly insecure about someone in this group, and if she left right now, you’d never find out who. Regardless, you didn’t feel like drama. If she stayed, whatever.

“Whatever.”

────── ☾ ──────

taglist: @alixmarauders @riddlemenottsluttyslytherin @twilightlover2007 @hcqwxrtss123 @queerndepressed @prongs-wolfstar-marauders @flowersarcute @remussbitch @ch4rlotte35 @alwaysanundertone @urfavhanna @donovorita28 @randomcreator-09 @joey-hoey @chronically-sh-ana @pinksmellslikelove @blvebanisters @aaronhotchswife @roseblack1864 @chaevvonders @champomiel @the-flaminhos @ilovesugurugeto69 @sammyreid @treefairy-28 @aza-writes @made-for-oliverwood @kaileygirl444 @livslifeonline @hi172826 @greyeyedmockingbird @prettylittlewrites @st0rmzi3 @butterchicken06 @yarri0 @camslut7 @ilovewhiteboysforlife @bibblemiluvr @moonyxstars @charlxzagzy @maxinehufflepuffprincess @yejiswifex @maverickgalathynius @bmyva1entine

[my-castles-crumbling]

makeup - march 26 - black brothers - jegulus - @black-brothers-microfic - word count: 391

“I’ve decided to take advantage of this whole ‘you snogging my best friend’ thing,” Sirius announced, walking into Regulus’s room at the Potters without so much as a knock.

Regulus, who had been reading, jumped and scowled. “What the fuck, Sirius?”

“Did you hear me? I forgive you for stealing my best friend,” Sirius said, spreading his arms like he was a generous monarch.

“Thank Merlin. I was so distressed. Will you leave now?” Regulus asked sarcastically.

“No. I need your help messing with Prongs,” the Gryffindor said, sitting on his bed with a little bounce. 

Trying not to show that he was a bit curious, Regulus sat up. “What’s in it for me?”

“This plan involves you turning James into a flustered mess, which could only be enjoyable for you,” Sirius shrugged. “And I get to see him act like an idiot in front of you. Win-win?”

He narrowed his eyes. “How?”

Sirius pulled something from his pocket. “Makeup.”

Instantly, Regulus scooted backwards, nearly falling off the bed. “No. Absolutely not.”

But Sirius was already begging. “Please? C’mon, Reg! I promise you’ll look amazing and if you don’t, I’ll–I’ll do your homework for the first month of school!”

Regulus tilted his head. “My Transfiguration homework?” he clarified. He hated Transfiguration and Sirius was pretty good at it.

“Yes!”

“Alright,” Regulus sighed, already regretting agreeing.

—

“Hey, Prongs? I have a surprise for you!”

The brothers walked into James’s room, finding him flipping through a Quidditch magazine and ripping out pictures.

“What? I-”

But as soon as he caught sight of Regulus, who was now wearing liberal amounts of eyeliner, a bit of mascara, and the slightest bit of lip gloss (this had been the biggest fight, but Sirius had insisted), he froze, mouth agape, eyes wide as saucers.

Regulus’s heart skipped a few beats, but he couldn’t help but grin. “Hi, James,” he said softly, smiling.

“I…I…”

Sirius burst out laughing. “I think we broke him! He’s never been so quiet! Holy shit! He’s lost for words! Like a silencing charm! James, this is pathetic, mate!”

James was turning red, his eyes flitting over Regulus’s face, and it took several long moments before he swallowed and said, “Fuck. Reggie, you look…”

Regulus just chucked. He would never admit it, but Sirius had been right. Maybe he should wear eyeliner more often.

[moonstruckme]

Who's That Girl

summary: after Peter moves out due to unspecified reasons suddenly, the marauders have a room to fill. Luckily, you've just arrived in the UK and are happy to sign the lease

cw: modern au, reader has a mother/maternal figure

roommate!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 1.3k words

“Okay, mom.” You rub your eyes, arm still sore from lugging your suitcase around half of London. “No, I really don’t think so. It’d be a pretty elaborate scheme just to kill me. Our names are all together on the lease, there’d be a paper trail.” 

There’s a quiet snicker from the doorway. You look over to find James, one of your new roommates, standing in the threshold of your room. You grimace, miming waving your mother’s concerns away. 

“Seriously, you don’t have to worry, I—fine, here. Listen.” You put your hand over the speaker. “I’m so sorry about this,” you tell James. “Can you tell her you’re not going to murder me, please?” 

“Why would we murder you?” he asks in an easy, jovial voice. It’s the sort of voice moms love, which is perfect for what you need right now. “We need you alive to pay rent, and anyway we’ve nowhere to hide a body. They started being rather vigilant about the Thames some time ago.” 

“He’s joking,” you say quickly into the phone. “Yeah, I’m sure. They do that here, too. Now will you please go to sleep? I’m good, I promise. Okay, call you later. Love you.” 

You click the button to hang up with a sigh, dropping back onto your mattress. 

“Your mum?” James asks sympathetically. 

You hum. “Yeah, sorry. It’s four in the morning for her right now, and she’s all wound up. I appreciate the help.” 

Despite your best efforts, you can’t seem to convince your body it’s not four in the morning for you right now. You thought taking the red eye to London would help you adjust quickly to the time change, but a sleepless flight has only made you weary and disoriented. You screwed up the route from the airport to your new flat, realizing only around Richmond that you’d gone the complete wrong direction on the wrong tube line. It took you a solid hour longer to get to your flat than you planned. When you saw Sirius, who’d posted the flat in an online roommates group, waiting on the other side of the door you nearly collapsed into his arms in teary gratitude. 

With the haze of fatigue still clouding your thinking, it takes you a few moments to wonder why James has come to stand in your room. 

“Did you need something?” 

“I was just wondering if you might like breakfast,” he says. His big frame fills the doorway, his shoulder leaning against the frame like it’s a familiar stance. 

You try to hide your wariness, your mind filling with images of black pudding and beans smeared on toast. “What are you having?” 

“Omelets.” 

“Yes, please.” You hop out of bed. It’s less bouncy than lurching, but you’re trying to affect vivacity in the hopes you eventually start to feel it. 

James leads you towards the kitchen. Your room, you discovered when you arrived, is even duller than the pictures online. The previous tenant either hadn’t decorated at all or had moved out in a hurry, leaving only a bed and some trash on the floor. The room is small, with peeling white paint and a tiny window situated oddly in the corner, the scraggly tree outside eclipsing half of the view. 

The rest of the flat is a different thing entirely. The common spaces are mostly open; you can see the kitchen from the living room, with everything lit by two large windows looking out onto the street. There’s a funny mishmash of decorations, some pieces hinting at unity and others not so the way it all comes together seems almost like a happy accident. A nice, plush couch sits next to a chair that looks like it was dragged in off the street; there are books stacked against walls and album covers being used for coasters; a collection of vinyl records sits on the mantle next to a bluetooth speaker and above stockings seemingly left out since Christmas. It’s definitely a space decorated by boys, but you like it. It feels homey. 

“My mum would be in a right state if I up and moved continents,” says James, walking into the kitchen. He takes up position behind the stove, next to where Remus is making tea. “Is it the city she’s worried about?” 

“It’s everything,” you admit, lingering awkwardly at the edge of the kitchen. You don’t want to be in the way. “It’s the city, it’s the male roommates, it’s the Facebook post she saw about muggings…” 

“Flatmates,” Sirius corrects you from the kitchen table. “We’re not roommates, we don’t share a room. Maybe you ought to clarify that, might calm her down a bit.” 

“Flatmates,” you amend. “She does not like that I have guy flatmates. Can I help?” 

“Don’t,” says Sirius. “Remus is a control freak in the kitchen. Real finicky.” 

“I’m not finicky.” Somehow, you can tell Remus is rolling his eyes even without him turning it around. 

“You nearly took my head off over the way I cook chicken last week.” 

“The way you cook chicken nearly burned down the flat.” 

“Y/n,” Sirius says, seriously, “do as I do.” He pats the seat next to him at the table. 

You glance at James hesitantly, but he waves you off. When you join Sirius in sitting down, you forget to suppress the sigh that collapses out of you. 

Sirius tuts. “Jet lagged?” 

Lag feels too kind a word for what your body is doing to you. “Yeah. Think I’m gonna take a nap after this.” 

“Oh, don’t do that,” he says. “I’ve done the whole international travel thing—” 

“You’ve been to France,” says Remus drolly. “The time difference is an hour.” 

“—and it really is best to just push through,” Sirius finishes as though the interruption went unheard. “You’ll only make matters worse for yourself if you sleep now and then can’t tonight.” 

You hate how sound his logic seems. The idea of waiting at least ten hours to put your head to a pillow makes you want to cry. 

“So,” James says brightly, “what doesn’t your mum like about you having guys for flatmates?” 

Perhaps it can be chalked up to exhaustion that you have so little control over the expression that crosses your face. Luckily, James is too concentrated on his omelet to see it, but Remus isn’t; he grins at you. 

“She doesn’t really love the idea of me having roommates at all. Flatmates,” you correct yourself when Sirius gives you a look. “I think because you’re guys, she just sees it as even less safe. Don’t take it personally. Oh, thank you.” 

You accept the mug of tea Remus sets in front of you. Sirius has one already half drunk in front of him, and Remus sits down with his own, taking a long sip like it’s the most relished part of his morning. You look into the brown, half-opaque liquid skeptically. 

“Has she been this upset since you decided to live with us?” Remus asks. 

“Oh, um.” You bob your teabag aimlessly, twisting the string around your finger. “I…sort of assumed she would be. That’s why I didn’t tell her until now.” 

You don’t have to take your attention off your tea to feel the stares of all three boys snap to you. 

“You didn’t tell her?” James asks, incredulous. 

“I didn’t want to give her the chance to argue with me about it.” 

“Asking for forgiveness instead of permission.” Sirius nods approvingly, picking up his mug for a sip. “Knew I liked you.” 

James appears in distress. “Your mum’s gonna hate us!” 

“Don’t mind him,” says Remus. “He’s used to all mothers fawning over him.” 

“Not mine,” Sirius objects happily. 

“She’s across the ocean, if that helps,” you tell James. 

“I can feel her hatred crossing borders,” he says, expression growing increasingly fretful. 

“Well, all you have to do is not murder me,” you offer, “and she’ll see that she’s wrong.” 

Sirius gives an insouciant shrug. “Pay your rent on time, and we ought to be fine there. No promises, of course.”

[daenysx]

6:00 am, Remus lupin ?🙏

6.00 AM | REMUS LUPIN

remus mumbles your name in his sleep.

he scrunches his nose, you watch him through your half open eyes, he's the cutest he's ever been when he doesn't know what he's doing. the softest, his lips part as if he wants to say something, he swallows. what is he dreaming about?

you get closer until you can rub your nose to his neck with too much affection. the room is half dark, remus's hands are warm on you, and he doesn't wear his shirt. he smells like sleep, mint, and distinctly himself. you kiss his heart softly.

he says your name again like a plea. you open your eyes, wondering about his dream. the ghost of a smile plays on his lips, he's cheeky, he whispers something you can't quite catch. you draw a circle on his waist with your fingertip. another one, when he doesn't react.

"pretty-" he whispers then. he's still sleeping. "mm-love you."

you smile against his heart. he breathes evenly, his eyebrows move. then, he flinches. it's not like he's scared but a soft flinch, he opens his eyes. sleep drips from them, glossy and a perfect pair, he looks at you.

"dove?" his morning voice is scratchy, he tries to clear his throat. "did i wake you up?"

"no." you tell him with a smile. "but you were dreaming."

remus thinks. the dream isn't so clear in his head, he can remember bits and pieces, though. he tries to picture all of it, his pretty face covered in a frown.

"it's still early." you say. "go back to sleep."

your voice is honey, remus loves it. he holds you tight on his chest and lifts you up a bit in bed to kiss your neck. it's a good kiss, sound and sweet, he kisses again. you fix his hair, try to settle down on him as he loves you with sticky morning kisses.

"you said my name." you whisper, a smile dancing on your lips. "were you dreaming about me?"

oh, you know it. remus is not surprised honestly, his mind is full of you, he likes when he gets to see you even in his sleep. your body in his arms, your face in his mind. he gets to have you all the time, what can be better than this?

"i can't remember all of it." he says. "but i think i did dream about you."

"that's sweet." you murmur. "i love you, too."

"hmm?"

"you said it in your sleep, baby."

he's so full of love these days, he can't keep his mouth shut. tiny bit embarrassed and so in love, he buries his face to your neck. you keep him there until he falls asleep again.

[acourtofchaos]

YOU CAN HOLD MY HAND IF NO ONE'S HOME | Sirius Black x F!Reader

Summary: When you aren't as good at hiding your relationship as you both think you are. [Fluff. 3.6K]

Warnings: Hidden relationship, very soft sirius, a little suggestive, typical mischief from the other boys

A/N: This is a re-write of a fic I wrote years ago for a character I no longer write for and I thought it'd be cute to turn it into a Marauders fic instead of getting rid of it :)

You woke to warmth.

To streaks of golden morning light that spilled from the windows and left glowing lines across bare legs that were hopelessly tangled with anothers.

There were soft puffs of breath stirring your hair at the crown and the faint smell of smoke and spice tickling your nose with every slow inhale you took in sync with the rising chest you found yourself buried against.

Your face pressed so deeply into the column of his throat that your lashes brushed the skin there when your eyes finally fluttered open.

And yet he tried to pull you even closer when you yawned and pressed your hands to his stomach in an attempt to shuffle yourself back, strong arms winding tight around your waist and the soft scrape of barely-there stubble over your forehead as he dipped his chin and planted a lazy kiss there.

“Don’t go yet.” He rasped, voice low, sleep-thick. "Want to hold you a bit longer before you go rushing off.”

You melted a little at that, your own apologetic kiss laid to the hollow of his throat before you pulled back to meet his sleep-warmed gaze.

Fingers stroking through the mess of his hair like you could soothe away the discontent that grew in both of you when you thought about having to leave his arms, his flat, pretending all the while that you hadn’t created a home for yourself in both.

Because that’s how things were between you and Sirius - how they had to be when this thing between you was a secret kept from the other three most important parts of your lives.

You’d decided together that they couldn’t know yet - Remus, Peter and James.

It was just still so new.

There would be too much pressure.

James and Remus were protective to an almost alarming fault and Peter would probably have a quiet panic attack over the possibility everything could go wrong. The boy who despised even the slightest arguments amongst his friends, fretting himself into an early grave at the thought of being forced to choose a side should it all fall apart.

It made sense to keep things between them until things felt more solid, less fragile than this sweet, tender thing you both held in your hands right now.

There was just times, this moment being one of them, where you wanted nothing more than to say fuck it and let them find out if it meant you could stay in Sirius’ arms that little bit longer.

And he was clearly thinking the same.

For when you stretched and tried to roll to the side, he followed. Catching the hand that had been reaching for your phone before luring it back and pressing it into the mattress whilst he rose above you.

“Where do you think you’re going, love?” He grinned, a little drunk with pride when you shivered lightly before throwing him a rather adorably unconvincing glare.

“We’re supposed to be meeting the others for breakfast and I still need to go home and change.” You huffed lightly, arching a challenging brow when he made no move to let you go. “Unless you want them asking why I’m in the same clothes I wore to the pub last night.”

Your words made his eyes spark, his voice turning silken as he leaned down, lips purposely avoiding your own and trailing tantalisingly slow over the line of your jaw.

“And if they did? What would you tell them, hmm?” He taunted, murmuring. “Would you make up some flimsy excuse like you did last night - let them keep thinking that you're so innocent and sweet, that you don't lie about headaches just so I can get you home and devour you sooner.”

“Are you forgetting we all grew up together?” You laughed breathlessly, loud in the otherwise silence of the room before it caught in your throat as Sirius nipped at your ear. “They already know I’m hardly what you call innocent.”

“Not like I do.”

You groaned when his teeth found your shoulder as he pulled at the collar of your t-shirt, sinking down until you arched like a bow against him before sweeping his tongue across the newly made mark.

You were clinging to him now, fingers buried into the warm skin of his ribs and every thought about getting up and leaving began to drift away like smoke in the wind when he raised his chin, smile sinful, teasing, to watch you as he rolled his hips into yours.

“Jesus, Sirius.” You breathed, an unbidden plea, and he sank down into you to kiss you then. All slow, soft heat as he indulged you, arms caging you in, gentle hands cupping your cheeks.

It made your blood catch light and your heart ache, your head dizzy with each brush of his tongue against yours whilst your skin grew warm and tingly from his body pressed flush against you - the sunlight that poured over you both when the sheets slipped away as you wove your legs around his waist.

A quiet moan slipped from you when he sucked at the pillow of your bottom lip and there was almost another as he drew back to look at you - all darkened eyes, ruffled hair and kiss-bruised lips.

“You make the prettiest sounds I’ve ever heard.” He whispered, voice a little awed whilst his thumb scraped over the arc of your cheekbone.

You grinned, something sweet and golden blooming beneath your ribs that made you glow from the inside, the air feeling warmer as you turned your head to mouth a tender kiss to his wrist. “Yeah?”

“Mhm.” He murmured, dropping his head to nudge his nose against yours when your gaze was back on him once again. “Everything about you is so ridiculously pretty, you’re killing me expecting me to just let you leave when you look like that.”

His hand found the edge of your shirt, fingers toying with a hole in the worn fabric before they slipped under to splay across the smooth skin of your belly, his thumb stroking small circles that dipped teasingly beneath the waistband of your underwear.

He watched as your breath hitched, as you shifted beneath him like you were trying to to push further into the press of his hand and then he suddenly leaned back. Eyes twinkling and lips parted before they quirked into a smug grin.

“Speaking of which - isn’t this my shirt?”

Shit.

You'd hoped he wouldn't realise that you'd snatched up one of his when redressing last night. Choosing to forgo your own that was nestled among a few other things of yours in the draw he'd cleared out for you.

There was something about being wrapped up in a shirt that smelled like him, that you swore still managed to hold the heat from his skin despite however long had passed since he wore it.

It felt like safety and comfort.

It felt more like home than any of the dozen places you had given such a title to over the years. And you craved it.

You thought Sirius understood. That he saw it in your face and the flash of nerves in your eyes that stealing his clothes was a step too far too soon, because even when you shrugged, when you tried your best to sound casual and lie that you couldn't find your own, his smile only got wider. Sweeter.

There was a new warmth in his eyes as he tugged at the hem again.

"Yeah?" He asked, grinning brighter than any star in the sky. "Well fuck, gorgeous, maybe I should start hiding all your clothes if it means getting to see you in mine. Looks so much better on you."

A bubble of laughter rose from your chest - bright and airy with relief and something impossibly tender for the boy above you. You wanted to draw him down, kiss him until you were both breathless and drunk from it and feel him press so deeply into you that it would be impossible to tell where one you ended and the other began.

You would have done it if it wasn’t for the sharp ring of a message alert sounding from your phone, the shrill of it puncturing the sticky-sweet haze you’d both slipped into making you flinch.

There was a pout on Sirius’ lips when you nudged at him, your hand a firm and constant obstacle when he still tried to chase your mouth with his own before giving up and falling back into the sheets with a dramatic huff. Hiding his smile with mock offence at the sound of your chuckle.

You bit your lip as you raised yourself up on your elbows and looked at him.

The lazy way he draped himself back, all smooth, tattoo-littered skin against black cotton sheets, grey sweats slung low on his hips and his hair wild from where your fingers had tangled desperately within it. He caught you staring and his lips spread into another shit-eating grin, his tone full of taunt when he winked at you. “You gonna get that or just keep staring at me like you want to fu–”

He spluttered when the pillow crashed into his face, choked laughter erupting from his throat whilst you huffed and rolled your eyes before snatching the phone from the bedside table.

And then they went wide.

Panic flooding through your gut as you attempted to fling yourself to your feet only to get your foot caught in the sheets, flail, and nearly end up in a heap on the floor.

You caught yourself at the last minute, a hand thrown to the wall when you stumbled before searching the room for your jeans.

“James and Remus are on their way here. Right now.” You told a confused looking Sirius, whose gaze swiftly changed from concerned to a disappointed understanding, his body frozen right where he’d frantically risen, arms open and outstretched to catch you if you had fallen. “They asked if I’m nearly at the cafe because they’re on their way but stopping to pick you up first?”

“Shit, yeah, I completely forgot.” He muttered, passing a weary hand over his face before he slipped from the bed after you and in search of a shirt for himself. “They offered because my bike is still in the garage.”

You nodded absentmindedly, eyes still darting along the floor before you spied your jeans partially hidden beneath Sirius’ clothes from the night before, all pooled together from where you’d tumbled into his room, mouths desperate on the others and hands a little too greedy to feel skin to take notice or even care where the things you were wearing landed.

He snorted at the way you lunged for them, the little cry of aha! when you lifted them triumphantly before bending to shove your legs inside them. “I’m just gonna have to go like this.” You huffed and Sirius had to bite down a wild groan when you straightened.

Between your sleep-roughened hair and kiss-swollen lips, the tight jeans and his shirt that, when the collar shifted ever so slightly, showed a brief glimpse of the pretty marks he’d left on your skin. He wasn’t sure how he was going to make it through this breakfast with his sanity intact. “...let's just hope they don’t recognise the shirt.”

He swallowed hard, shook his head in a daze both in an attempt to reassure you and to rid himself of the feverish need that was rapidly bleeding through his veins once more. “They won’t, it’s not one I ever wore that much.”

And yeah, maybe that was a lie.

But he didn’t want to mention that it had once been one of his favourites and have you decide that wearing it wasn’t worth the risk.

Not when the sight of you in it had something akin to possessive wonder coiling in his chest every time he looked at you, infusing his bones and making his heart swell with it. Racing to an impossible rhythm, a delirious beat of mine, mine, mine.

There was another chirp from your phone and you quickly glanced at it whilst Sirius distractedly rummaged through his drawers, cursing as you located your shoes and yanked them on before reaching for him. “I have to go.” You rushed out, fingers curling around the nape of his neck to drag him into a too brief kiss, his lips only just beginning to part over yours when you pulled back and tried to dash towards his bedroom door.

Only, before you could take another step his hand found itself wrapped around your wrist and then he was tugging sharply, reeling you back into his arms so his mouth could descend upon yours once again - hot and messy. More than a little starved for the taste of you.

And despite yourself you melted, humming happily before you felt him smile against you and the corners of your lips tugged up into one to match. “Sirius, I’ve got to go.”

You laughed when his hand curled around your hip to pull you closer. His voice muffled but no less cheeky when he countered. “Just getting it out of my system before I have to endure the torture of being surrounded by our friends whilst pretending that I don’t want to bend you over the nearest surface and fuck you whilst you're wearing my shirt.”

Your thighs clenched together at that, cheeks warming as you imagined it. Without meaning to your fingers tightened their grip in his hair, the hand that had rested over his heart curling until your nails bit into his skin and you had to catch yourself as your hips subconsciously rocked against him.

It made him grin like a devil, even more so when you swore, his eyes gleaming with heat, mischief when you flexed your hand straight and pushed yourself away from him.

He let you go without a fight to finally pull his shirt on and chuckled, low and rough, when your narrowed eyes tracked over the tempting fit of it before flicking back to his. “You’re an absolute menace, Black”

“Only for you, doll.”

You snorted at that and turned, still grinning like an idiot when you swung his door open before you screamed in shock. Your hand flying to your chest to cover the place where your heart slammed frantic against your ribs.

Sirius was by your side in an instant, his body surging past yours in a blur to place you behind him, expression hard and dangerous before it morphed into stunned surprise. His brow furrowing and mouth dropping open.

Because at his breakfast table sat James and Peter. Both of them never looking more delighted with themselves than they did in that moment with laughter in their eyes and bright ‘gotcha’ smiles spread wide across their handsome faces.

Remus was busying himself with pulling groceries out of a bag but you caught the way he glanced between both yours and Sirius’ disbelieving expressions before hiding his face, grin soft and his shoulders shaking.

There was a moment of silence where all of you just stared at each other and then both you and Sirius spoke at the same time.

“What the hell is going on?”

“Did you seriously just let yourselves into my flat and sit waiting for us to come out?”

It was James that answered.

Like he’d been bursting with impatience for one of you to ask just so he could, his fingers tapping impatiently against the solid wood of the table before he pointed to you.

“What’s going on is that you’ve been lying to us and now you’ve been caught red handed.” He smirked, entirely too amused by the way you couldn’t even hide your guilty expression before he turned to Sirius and shrugged. “And you gave us each a key.”

Sirius scoffed at that, snarking. “Yeah, for emergencies, Prongs, not to be cr–”

“So you don’t want coffee then.” Remus interrupted mildy, lifting one of the steaming cups from beside him without looking up from where he was setting things up for your apparent breakfast. A spread of pastries and fruits, jams, fresh bread, bacon and eggs and sausages all lined up for him to cook whilst you slowly processed what you had just walked out to.

And just like that Sirius lost some of his guarded edge. He still watched them all and then you with calculating eyes, assessing the situation, looking for hints of discomfort before he softened completely and trudged forward to take the drink, then a second, from Remus whilst you sank into the chair besides Peter.

You expected it to feel awkward but it wasn’t.

There was no anger or accusation from the boys, only curiosity and something soft like joy when they observed the way Sirius drew immediately back to you, one hand placing your drink in front of you and the other resting gently at the back of your neck to let you know he was there.

They hadn’t done this with any other intent but to let you know that everything was fine. That you didn’t have to worry about things changing or them thinking any different of either of you because they would always be happy with whatever you decided as long as it was what made you happy.

And with that knowledge you fully relaxed, easing back into Sirius’ touch. You took a deep breath and inhaled the smell of the coffee, the bacon that hissed and smoked when Remus placed it in the pan and after a large gulp of your drink you turned to the curly haired boy across from you and nudged his leg with your toe. Smiling when his lips quirked and he nudged you back.

“Go on then.” You sighed with a grin, “Where did we mess up - what gave us away?”

James laughed, his features boyish and light with it. “Take a wild guess.” He joked and when you didn’t answer, blinking at him in confusion, he looked at you for a beat, then two, and then at his friend on the other side of the table, shaking his head with amusement. “I told you it looked like they hadn’t even realised what they’d done.”

You glanced at Sirius who looked just as clueless as you, racking your brain for such a memory and coming up with nothing.

“You kissed right in front of us.” Peter finally explained with a quiet chuckle. “Well, it was at the bar - which we had a pretty good view of.”

It hit you then. A little soft and fuzzy around the edges but you could remember Sirius’ hand resting on your hip, the way he'd tucked you tighter against him to avoid getting jostled at the busy bar and it had been second nature. A reflex almost.

You had looked up at him with a sweet smile and the moment you had tilted your chin he hadn’t even thought to deny you, pressing a warm kiss to your lips and then another to your forehead that had made your heart flutter.

You opened your mouth and then shut it again, pressed your palm to your lips to smother the laughter that bubbled up - bright and delirious.

You had both thought you had been so subtle only to discover you couldn’t have been more hopeless at hiding your relationship if you had tried. There was a twinkle in Sirius’ eyes when you turned again to find him watching you, an undisguisable fondness when you reached out and gently punched his arm.

“This is your fault.” You accused, teasing. “You kissed me.”

“And you didn’t stop me.” He winked, far too pleased at the fact to even consider defending his lack of restraint when it came to you.

Before you could argue there was a snort from the other side of you and you twisted to catch James rolling his eyes, an indulgent grin on his face even as he complained. All faux wretchedness and almost enough drama to rival Sirius. “Good god, I don’t think I can handle you both suddenly being this lovey dovey. I think I preferred being in the dark about this.”

It made you laugh when Peter responded before you were able, an immediate quip that had the brunette blushing wildly when he mentioned how he’d rather see this than what he used to innocently walk into in the dorms whenever James had Lily over.

There was warmth in your chest - a champagne fizz type of happiness - when it turned into a competition of swapping embarrasing stories and the room filled with bickering voices and radiant bursts of laughter, when Sirius drew his chair closer and tugged you into his side, fingers drawing lovely, sweeping patterns on your shoulder whilst his voice joined the chaos.

You beamed at Remus, who appeared at your side to place a plate of food in front of you, a little mix of everything that you liked that immediately had your stomach growling.

He returned your smile immediately, eyes crinkling with affection when you thanked him, before he ruffled your hair like he had ever since he had taken you under his wing the first time you met so many years ago.

Forever the protective older brother that somehow turned into a scolding mother the second Sirius dared to reach over with the intent of snatching a piece of bacon off your plate.

There was a flash of metal, a string of colourful curses from your boyfriend when the handle of the fork Remus had been about to pass you rapped across the knuckles of the offending hand.

“Hands off, Pads, you bloody animal. Didn’t you ever learn manners, jesus."

“Me? What about you? You break into my house, hijack my kitchen, and then try to nearly crack a bone over a slice of bacon. Where are your fucking manners, Moony?”

You zoned out the bickering in favour of tearing a chunk of still warm pastry and popping it in your mouth, startled when James’ foot gently kicked yours beneath the table.

His eyes were bright and full of mischief behind his glasses when you frowned at him and you nearly choked when he pointed the coffee-foam covered end of his wooden stirrer at your chest.

"So considering you were still trying to keep it a secret before we surprised you, how did you plan on explaining the shirt?” He crowed. “Because I could swear Pads has one just like it.”

[professor-scribbls]

I did Regulus so of course I had to do James next, here he is for my Zombie AU! Yes they have matching flannels no that was not intentional I’m keeping it anyway 😋

also! here a link to the fic I wrote for this AU!!

The World We Left Behind