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aurynsia · 5 months ago

Text

Touch Tank

James Potter x Reader

——————— ⋆☆ ˚⟡˖ ࣪ ———————

Summary: Your friends discover that you and James have finally done the deed…

Warnings: 18+ MATURE THEMES, oneshot, suggestive content, implied intimacy, virgin!james x virgin!reader, teasing, Sirius being Sirius, mild wolfstar content, reader is embarrassed about intimacy, and, of course, James Potter is good in bed.

Word count: 1.4K

Masterist

——————— ⋆☆ ˚⟡˖ ࣪ ———————

James had pleaded for you to stay behind to study at Hogwarts during this week’s Hogsmeade trip, claiming he couldn’t pass his next exam without his pretty girlfriend by his side. You began working at James’ desk before moving to his floor…then to his bed.

He stared at you with pure longing as you transcribed notes from your textbook, his touch was soft against your shoulders as he kissed your skin. His attention had completely abandoned his own notes long ago, preferring to cover you in gentle kisses pressed to your back.

You couldn’t pretend to focus on your textbook any longer, closing it softly before sending it to the dorm room floor. You turned to face your breathless boyfriend, silently begging you with his big brown eyes.

The make out session that followed was more passionate than any other you two had shared, James gripping at your skin as he rocked his hips into yours.

“We can stop here if you want to,” he muttered breathlessly during a short break. The corners of your lips threatened to tilt into a flirtatious smirk as you softly pushed him backwards. James’ growing desperation was obvious, the boy grinning at you while flipping your bodies over, resting on top of you and making you squeal as his lips traveled down your exposed skin.

The events that followed left you naked and panting beneath his sheets, gazing up at the ceiling in a daze as your boyfriend nuzzled into your neck with a satisfied groan and a beaming smile.

He clutched your sides protectively, sighing as he pulled back to gaze at your flustered face, grinning at the result of his handy work. He kissed up and down your jaw, pausing for a second to admire the marks left by his desperate affection.

You were still reeling from the memory of moments ago, brain fuzzy from the overwhelming pleasure. I was sure the first time was meant to be bad… you thought to yourself. Finally, you noticed James’ lovesick gaze at your neck and collarbone, eyes wide as you realised what he was observing.

“Might have to cover these up before breakfast tomorrow, darling,” he smiled apologetically with sleep lacing his whispering voice, “I went a bit overboard, I’m sorry…” He nuzzled back into your neck with a bashful smile, drawing circles on your skin with his fingers.

——————— ⋆☆ ˚⟡˖ ࣪ ———————

The next day was cold with the promise of impending rain, a perfect climate for inconspicuously slipping on a turtleneck under your uniform before leaving for breakfast with your roommates. You had always maintained a sense of privacy with James, reluctant to tell your friend group quite as much as they tell you about their romantic escapades.

Mary, Dorcas and Lily took their seats on one side of the Gryffindor table as you saved seats for the Marauders on the other. Breakfast was peaceful, the four of you making small talk and enjoying your food before the Great Hall doors opened to reveal the more obnoxious half of your group.

James was looking particularly confident, smiling wide with crinkled eyes and walking with a slight bounce in his step. The boys piled onto the bench next to you while James reached over your head to pluck a peach from the fruit bowl.

“Morning hot stuff,” James winked at you as he slid into the space between you and Sirius, lacing a hand along your back, around your torso and between your thighs. You glared at his cocky grin, face warming at the intimate contact. “What?” he whispered, feigning innocence, “my hands are cold.”

“Uh- Mary was just telling us about this muggle game,” you diverted, “what was it called again?” Mary lit up, returning to her rambling about a complicated board game involving houses and train stations.

——————— ⋆☆ ˚⟡˖ ࣪ ———————

You were far gone by the time Mary caught the others up to speed, engrossed in the way James was breathing against your skin and holding you against his warm, muscular form.

He began to pull at your turtleneck ever so slightly, first at your stomach to rub soothing circles into your skin, then at your neck to peer at his masterpiece from the previous night. James pressed a soft kiss to the highest mark, causing you to shiver and stare intently at your breakfast to distract yourself.

By the time your boyfriend had removed himself from your skin, Mary had finished her explanation and all eyes were on the two of you.

Sirius furrowed his brows, gazing from James, to you, back to James, then to Remus. Remus watched your interaction curiously, eyes gliding down to where James’ hand met the inside of your upper thigh, a familiar symbol of lust he knew all too well from Sirius’ own actions under the table. The girls across from you glanced at each other, then at Peter, before Dorcas completed the circle of confused looks as she stared at Sirius, who finally broke the silence.

“So, Prongs…get much study done while we were out yesterday?” James’ lustful grin faltered as he finally acknowledged your friends’ presence for the first time that morning, turning away from you and towards his roommate.

“Uh- yeah, yeah we did actually! Totally prepared for the exam, Minnie will be praising me,” he pulled one of his hands away from your skin to the back of his neck, scratching in an awkward display of nervousness. His other hand traveled down your leg to rest on your knee, a far more common sight for the two of you. Sirius wasn’t convinced.

“Uh huh…and what’s that exam on again?” He smirked, looking you up and down as you gulped under his glare, “Anatomy?”

Dorcas choked on a laugh, dribbling juice in the process while the others muffled their amusement with their hands. James bit his lip, wincing at the realisation that he had been far too obvious with his intimate affection.

He turned back to you, seeing the bright red hue of your face and the embarrassed downturn of your head. He threw his arm around your middle in confident comfort. Your eyes were glued to a single berry on the edge of your plate.

——————— ⋆☆ ˚⟡˖ ࣪ ———————

Your friends had released a long series of sounds of amusement, cheering in celebration at their recent discovery. “With the way James talks about you, love, I’m surprised he didn’t jump you on the first date!” Sirius cackled, causing James to crack a sympathetic smile in your direction before nuzzling into your neck once again.

“I think this makes us the most experienced group in the school now that you two lovesick dogs, have…you know…” Lily trailed off, “Wait, we are talking about these two losing their v-“

“Obviously!”

James had fully phased out the conversation, getting intoxicated on your scent as his held you close with eyes closed in satisfaction. You were warming up to the conversation now, brushing James’ mess of hair away from his mouth as you giggled at the excitement that erupted from your section of the table.

“So,” Sirius continued, leaning over to you with an obnoxiously loud whisper, “is Prongs good in bed?”

“Yes.”

“Sirius,” James whined, sitting up in the process, “don’t push her- wait, what did you say?” He spun around to face you with wide eyes as you smirked back at him. You were already knee deep in this conversation, it couldn’t hurt to boost your boyfriend’s ego and satisfy his recently discovered lust for praise.

“He’s amazing, in fact…boys, why don’t you go on another secret trip to Hogsmeade tonight? I’m sure you’ve already run out of chocolate, and James could probably do with a room to himself…” you teased in the direction of the remaining Marauders before spotting James’ glossy eyes and parted lips in your peripheral.

He clung tighter to your middle as Peter gazed at you with a confused frown. “But we went yesterday, we still have a lot of-“ he glanced at the others, all adorning knowing smirks. “Ohhhh…yeah, yeah we can do that.”

James turned to Peter with a bashful smile, mouthing a thank you that made the group burst out laughing once again.

Finally remembering their breakfast, your companions returned to cleaning their plates as James continued consuming his, kissing you along your jaw and resisting the urge to line you up on the table then and there. He bit into his peach suggestively, batting his lashes at you.

“No more PDA at the table, Jamie.”

——————— ⋆☆ ˚⟡˖ ࣪ ———————

2K notes · View notes

juleswritesstuff · 28 days ago

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The Pillow Contract

James Potter seems to have found the best pillow on earth. You.

james potter x fem!reader

warnings: none

James Potter liked to consider himself a man of simple pleasures.

A good meal ? Heaven. A lazy Sunday spent wrapped in a blanket burrito ? Perfection. A well-timed, sarcastic remark ? Chef’s kiss.

But above all else, there was one thing James had come to love more than anything in the world.

Your chest.

Well, you as a whole, of course. Body and soul alike. He was not a bloody prick, thank you very much.

He loved you for you, not just for the flawless vessel that carried your golden heart and your beautiful mind.

But he couldn't help the way he was especially drawn to the perfection that peeked from your neckline when your shirt hung a little lower than usual.

And he also could not, in good conscience, ignore the life-altering comfort that was that perfection.

Now, to be clear, James wasn’t just some guy obsessed with his girlfriend’s body –okay, maybe he was a little addicted.

But, come on, who could blame him when you were said girlfriend ?

He was supposed to be a bit obsessed with you, right ? That’s what every person in their sane, right and helplessly in love mind would be about their partner, no ?

Was that just him ?

Ok, fine, maybe he was a bit of a simp (read, you had him at your feet). So what ?

He liked it exactly like that. Sue him.

But this ? This was different.

This wasn’t just about attraction or some primal male instinct. No, this was about something sacred.

This was about comfort.

The kind that he’d accidentally stumbled upon one evening when you had curled up next to him on the couch, and his head had somehow –miraculously– ended up resting right on your chest.

That’s when he had discovered it.

The Holy Grail of pillows. The pinnacle of all headrests.

Your chest was perfect.

Warm. Soft. Inviting.

It had been life-changing. Existence-altering. World-stopping.

And in that moment, with his head resting against the softest, most heavenly cushion known to mankind, and your heart beating under his ear like a lullaby, James had made a decision.

He was never going back to regular pillows again.

Ever.

The problem was, he didn’t exactly know how to turn this into a permanent arrangement without looking like an absolute fool.

Which, really, was ironic, because James didn’t mind acting like the biggest dumbass in the world when it came to you. Not even a tiny bit.

The man had zero shame, and zero chill when you were involved.

If he had to beg ? Done.

If he had to bribe you with kisses ? Oh no, how awful.

If he had to declare his undying devotion in front of his friends and suffer their relentless teasing ? Call Sirius and Remus over, he was ready to suffer.

If he had to wear one of those, frankly quite obnoxious --yes, even for him-- ‘I ❤️ My Girlfriend’ shirts in public just because you wanted him to suffer a bit for forgetting the chores ? Consider it his new favorite outfit.

He’d do anything and everything –yes, even sacrificing his dignity in front of Pads and Moony– if it meant putting a smile on your face (and making you agree to be used as a headrest for the rest of your life. But let’s just say that was a teeny, tiny, wonderful bonus if the case ever came to be).

Tonight was his chance, he told himself.

You were already curled up on the couch, wearing one of his hoodies, your legs tucked beneath you as you scrolled through your phone. The dim lighting of the room cast a soft glow over you, and James took a moment to appreciate the scene.

Because, honestly ? You looked really good.

Too good.

Like, unfairly good.

The hoodie –his hoodie, the one he had technically claimed as his favorite, but which spent more time on your body than his closet– was slightly oversized on you, slipping off one shoulder in a way that made his brain short-circuit for a second.

This was his moment.

You were comfortable. The couch was comfortable.

And your chest ? Well, that was a level of bliss he had yet to find anywhere else in the world.

Time to execute: Operation Smothered by Heaven.

Ok, the name was a little ridiculous. But, to his defence, he had been a little distracted while thinking about it –the dress you were wearing mysteriously met the floor not even five minutes after he had taken a glimpse of you– and his brain had refused to work at his full potential.

Something that he absolutely couldn’t let happen now.

Not when the fate of his comfort and sanity was at such a high risk.

That’s why he casually –so casually– stretched like a giant cat just waking up from a nap, letting out an exaggerated yawn before –still ever so nonchalantly, of course– leaning closer.

And would you look at that ? His head, as if drawn by an invisible magnetic force he absolutely had no control on –God forbid– found its way to your chest.

It was seamless.

Flawless execution.

Absolutely fucking nailed that.

He gave himself a mental high five.

Operation Smothered by Heaven: officially successful.

“Wow. Smooth” you blinked down at him, amused.

James grinned but didn’t move. Not even an inch. Nope.

He had claimed his rightful place, and there was no going back now.

“What can I say ? Gravity is a powerful thing” he purred, his voice smug, his eyes half-lidded like a cat who had just found the warmest sunspot in the house.

“Ah, I see. So this is all gravity’s fault, then ?”

“Absolutely” he confirmed, burrowing his face in just a little more “I have no control over it. Pure science”

You snorted, shaking your head, but you didn’t push him away.

Of course you didn’t.

If anything, you shifted slightly, letting your arm drape around his back, your fingers absentmindedly tracing along his spine. He hummed in approval, his whole body melting against yours like ice under the warm sunlight of a summer’s day.

Because the thing James didn’t know –or, at the very least, seemed to forget– was that he wore his heart on his sleeve. Always.

James Potter and secret scheming ? Not a good match.

Not a match at all, actually. But you still liked watching him try.

And with the way he had been ogling you for the past week, it really wasn’t hard to figure out what had been brewing in that ridiculously pretty head of his.

His thoughtful frown, the way his brows scrunched together, his deep-in-thought lip-biting. James had looked like he was trying to crack some highly classified government code.

Except the code in question was you.

Or, more specifically, that area right below your neck that seemed to steal his attention more times then it should've been considered healthy.

Subtle, he was not.

He had been studying you. Analyzing the way your sweaters dipped lower when you leaned forward, the way the fabric of your shirts clung to your curves, the way–

God.

James had the audacity to look like he was pondering the meaning of life when, really, all he was trying to find was an excuse.

Funny how he could’ve just asked.

It wasn’t like you would have refused him.

Hell, you didn’t even think you possessed the ability to refuse him. To refuse him anything, really.

But your smitten and extremely down-bad behavior when it came to your boyfriend was a topic for another time.

James let out a deep, satisfied sigh.

“You know” he murmured, voice slightly muffled as he nuzzled closer “I think I’ve discovered something important”

“Oh ?”

“Mhm” he tilted his head up, his expression dead serious. Like a man delivering a life-changing revelation “Your chest ? Best pillow I’ve ever used”

You raised an eyebrow, a quiet grin making its way onto your mouth. “I should be flattered, I think”

“You should be honored” he corrected, his lips quirking into a lazy smirk “I mean, it’s a very competitive market. But yours ? Easily top-tier”

You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t hide the smile tugging at your lips. “Is that right ?”

James nodded solemnly.

“Hell yeah, baby. I’d even write a five-star Yelp review if that were a thing”

You let out a soft laugh and slid your fingers into his hair, gently scratching at his scalp.

James immediately melted.

He let out a low, contented hum, eyes slipping shut, the tension in his body dissolving completely. You thought if he was a cat, he would’ve started purring.

“Mmh. Keep doing that, and I might never get up” he mumbled, voice already laced with drowsiness.

“Wouldn’t mind that” you teased.

Because, really, who in their right mind would complain about this ?

No one, that's who.

And surely not you.

James hummed in response, his arms tightening around your waist burying himself further into you. You could feel the steady rise and fall of his breathing, the warmth of his body seeping into yours.

His lips brushed absentmindedly against your collarbone –a barely-there press of warmth that sent a quiet shiver down your spine.

This. This was perfection.

Then, because James Potter simply could not help himself, he tilted his head up again.

“So, uh... just out of curiosity. How often do you think I can get away with this ?”

You smirked. “That depends”

“On ?”

“How well you behave”

James’ eyes darkened slightly, though amusement still played at the edges.

“Define behave” his voice dropped, all smooth and teasing, like he could coax an answer out of you if he said it just right.

You arched a brow, pretending to think.

“Well, let’s see. No stealing the blankets at night. No pretending you don’t hear me when I ask you to grab something from the kitchen. And definitely no distracting me when I’m trying to get work done”

James gasped, offended.

“That last one is unreasonable and you know it”

You laughed, shaking your head. “Oh, is it ?”

“Yes. It is literally part of my rights as your boyfriend to distract you”

You hummed, pretending to ponder your decision.

“Well, if we can do nothing about that…” your hand cupped his cheek, slender fingers applying a gentle pressure to lift his face up from that cocoon of warmth he had nestled himself into.

He blinked. “I-wait. What ?”

Before he could fully register what was happening, you leaned down and captured his lips in a slow, lazy kiss.

James melted.

Like, gone. Out of commission. Absolute goner.

The smug confidence he had a second ago ? Obliterated.

His hands, which had been lazily resting at your waist, tightened, pulling you closer like he never wanted to let go. One of them trailed up your spine, fingers tangling into your hair, holding you there like this was oxygen and he needed it to breathe.

You sighed against his lips, feeling the way he shuddered, the way his grip on you tightened, like he was physically trying to keep himself from falling apart.

Like you had just ruined him.

And maybe you had.

Because when you pulled back just enough to catch your breath, James just blinked at you, dazed and utterly wrecked, lips still parted like he hadn’t quite caught up with reality yet.

You bit back a smirk.

Unbelievable.

How had this man made a full-time career out of turning you into putty, and yet one well-placed kiss had him looking like he’d just been personally blessed by the universe ?

You dragged your fingers lazily through his curls, watching the way his lashes fluttered at the sensation, the slow, dopey grin tugging at his lips.

Completely gone.

You tilted your head, murmuring teasingly against his mouth “Was that up to your standards, Mr. Five-Star Review ?”

James, still grinning –and still absolutely useless– just nodded.

"Five stars ? That was worth the entire Milky Way, baby"

You let out a laugh, and he practically glowed at the sound, his fingers flexing against your waist like he wanted to bottle it.

Then, before you could say anything else, he tilted his head, brushing his nose against yours in that infuriatingly sweet way of his.

"You know-" he murmured, voice all warm and syrupy "-if this is part of my reward system, I promise to be so good"

You smirked, fingers tracing idle patterns into the back of his neck. “Do you now ?”

James nodded solemnly, though the grin he was fighting gave him away.

“The best. Model citizen. Proper gentleman. Will hold doors, carry bags, call you milady unironically if I have to”

You snorted. Loudly.

"Now that, I need to see"

He hummed, tilting his head up like he was about to deliver the most profound statement of his life.

“Mmh. Maybe after another kiss”

Your eyes narrowed playfully. “That so ?”

He nodded again, already leaning in, his lips curling mischievously.

You let your fingers drag slowly down the back of his neck, feeling the way James shivered under your touch.

The moment stretched, thick with something warm and electric, the air between you charged in that intoxicating way it always was whenever you teased him like this.

You leaned in deliberately, lips hovering just over his, close enough that you could feel the ghost of his breath, the heat radiating off his skin.

James, for all his usual smugness, stilled, his lazy smirk faltering into something softer, deeper. His lips parting slightly, his pupils dark and expectant.

Waiting.

Wanting.

You let your gaze drop to his lips, watching as his tongue darted out just once, a quick, unconscious flick, like he was already tasting the kiss before it happened.

And, God, he was beautiful like this.

All that usual bravado stripped down to this, his sharp edges melted, his hands twitching slightly where they rested on your hips, fighting the urge to pull you closer.

His restraint was admirable.

His patience ?

Well. That was something you just had to test.

You leaned in that final inch –only for your lips to land on his cheek instead.

Soft. Chaste. Infuriating.

James let out a dramatic, suffering groan, his head thunking back against the cushions.

“Tease” he mumbled, voice hoarse, his hands finally losing their battle as they gripped your waist, fingers pressing into your sides like he was physically holding back the urge to grab your face and kiss you properly.

You pulled back just enough to grin down at him, impossibly pleased with yourself.

“What ?” you asked innocently, tilting your head “You asked for a kiss. You didn’t specify where, love”

He cracked one eye open, glowering.

“Oh, that’s dirty” he grumbled, before huffing dramatically and rolling onto his back, taking you with him.

You yelped as you landed against his chest, sprawled across him, your laughter cut off when his arms wrapped around you, pinning you against him with the strength of a human vice grip.

“James-”

“Nope” he said, shoving his face into your neck like a petulant child, muffling his words “You’re stuck here now. Actions have consequences”

You laughed, wiggling in his hold, but he just tightened his grip.

“James”

“Mmm. Nope”

“I-”

“Shh. Thinking about my suffering”

You rolled your eyes, smiling despite yourself, your fingers naturally finding their way into his curls again, scratching lightly at his scalp.

He made a sound, deep and content, his body practically melting beneath you.

“See ?” you teased, voice softening “That wasn’t so bad”

He exhaled heavily, but his hands had already started skimming over your back again, lazy and unbothered, like he’d completely forgotten why he was fake-pouting in the first place.

“Mmh” he hummed “Don't know. Still feel like you owe me”

You smirked, arching a brow. “Oh ?”

“Yeah” James sighed dramatically, finally tilting his head up again. Looking at you.

That expression.

Soft. Mischievous. A little challenging.

Maybe even a little hopeful.

Like he was just waiting for you to put him out of his misery.

You let the moment stretch for a beat longer, lips quirking.

Then, with a small, amused sigh, you finally gave in.

And kissed him properly.

For a few moments, the two of you just stayed like that, tangled together, basking in the warmth of each other’s touch.

You felt him smile against your lips before he pulled back just enough to murmur “So… hear me out”

“Oh boy” you sighed, already knowing.

James just grinned, completely unbothered by your lack in faith in him.

“What if we made this a permanent arrangement ?”

You let out a soft laugh, tilting your head at him. “A permanent arrangement ?”

“Yeah. Like, an official thing. A contract, even” he lifted his head slightly, hie expression the picture of seriousness “Something binding. A legally recognized agreement that states you will be my official human pillow for the foreseeable future”

You stared at him, an eyebrow quirked in amusement, lips twitiching.

“You want to draft a pillow contract ?”

James nodded, almost professionally.

“For accountability purposes”

You rolled your eyes, a disbelieved chuckle leaving your lips before you could stop it.

“You’re ridiculous”

“But lovable” he pointed out.

You exhaled, shaking your head, your heart betraying you with the sheer amount of fondness you felt for this man.

“Fine” you relented, rolling your eyes as if you weren’t already completely gone for him “You win. You can rest on me whenever you want”

James grinned like he’d just won the lottery, wasting no time in smacking a quick, eager kiss right on your lips.

“But” you added, poking him in the ribs “I reserve the right to move if you start drooling”

“Excuse me ?” he gasped, offended “I do not drool”

You smirked. “That’s not what the couch cushions say”

James gasped again, dramatically this time, like you had personally insulted his honor “That was one time-”

“Oh, it so wasn’t”

James pouted, pulling you even closer and pressing his forehead against yours with a grumble.

“You wound me” he muttered, a mock distraught lilt to his voice.

You grinned, the warmth of him, the smell of him, completely surrounding you as you pressed a kiss to his jaw, lingering just enough to feel the way his breath hitched.

“I think you’ll survive just fine”

He hummed, tilting his head slightly, inviting you to keep going.

So you did.

You let your lips trail along his jawline, slow and lazy, your fingers threading through the curls at the nape of his neck, scratching lightly in a way that made him melt.

“Well” James sighed, voice lower, heavier, the tiniest shiver running through him “If this is how you comfort me, I guess I’ll forgive you”

You laughed against his skin.

“How generous”

James smirked, but there was something else in his eyes now, something wicked, something that sparked just before–

Before the menace shimmied down.

Yes. Shimmied. Like a man with a mission.

“James-”

Your protest was cut off by laughter, because he was determined, wriggling lower and lower with expert precision, slipping out of your hold like a human-sized golden retriever trying to find the perfect spot on the couch.

And then, with a triumphant sigh, his head landed where he had been aiming all along–

Right on your chest.

James let out a deep, satisfied hum, snuggling in, his nose nuzzling into the soft fabric of your shirt like this was some long-lost paradise he had just returned to.

“Now we’re talking” he exhaled in sheer satisfaction, like the heaviest of weights had been lifted from his shoulders, snuggling even deeper, and muttering an appreciative “Mmh. Yep. Definitely five stars”

You blinked down at him, helpless to fight the way your heart swelled, a smile threatening to bloom against your better judgment.

“Should I start charging you for this service ?” you teased.

James hummed, content, his lips brushing absently against the skin just below your collarbone.

“I’d go broke, baby”

You let out a soft, breathy laugh, your fingers finding their way back into his hair, your nails scratching lightly at his scalp.

He groaned, pressing his face deeper into your chest, mumbling something incoherent that you were pretty sure translated to never stop doing that.

Before you could fully process how utterly whipped this man was, he pressed a soft, lingering kiss there –just because he could.

You pulled back slightly, blinking down at the mop of messy chocolate strands currently buried between your collarbones.

“Do you make a habit of kissing all your pillows ?” you asked, voice mildly amused despite the unreasonable warmth now flooding your chest.

James, completely unashamed, grinned against you.

“Pillows don’t usually deserve appreciation, but this one ?” his fingers traced slow, lazy patterns against your waist, his voice dropping to a reverent murmur “This one gets special treatment”

A full-body shiver rolled through you.

And James, that absolute menace, felt it.

His smirk was obnoxiously satisfied as he nuzzled in even deeper, practically purring as he molded himself further against you.

You rolled your eyes, trying –truly trying– to ignore the overwhelming affection clawing at your ribcage. And utterly failing.

“Jamie, you’re gonna choke like this” you warned playfully, fighting against yourself not to let out the endeared laugh threatening to spill.

He made a noncommittal noise, fully unbothered.

“Best way to go, honestly”

And that was it.

Not one beat missed. Not a single ounce of shame registered in his voice.

You stared wide-eyed at the mop of untamable chocolate curls right below your chin, completely bewildered by the words that had just come out of your boyfriend’s mouth.

Did this man, the actual love of your life, just casually declare that he would willingly –no, gladly– perish via boob-related asphyxiation ?

Because that was what it sounded like.

Was that a normal thing for a person to say ?

No. No, it wasn’t.

And yet—here you were.

"James"

“Mmm ?”

"James, get up"

"No"

You sighed, trying to nudge him off, but it was useless.

Because this man –this grown, six-foot, sport-trained, annoyingly fit man– was currently clinging to you like a koala experiencing its first-ever existential crisis.

And you knew –you knew– that there was no reasoning with a man who had just fully committed to making your chest his final resting place.

"James-"

"No"

"You cannot suffocate yourself on my–"

"I can and I will"

"You will not"

James lifted his head just enough to look at you with actual betrayal.

"How dare you harm a man in his final moments ?"

A stunned laugh escaped before you could stop it.

“Oh my god, you’re ridiculous”

James smirked triumphantly.

“And yet-” he murmured smugly “-you don’t seem to mind it”

He barely gave you a second to respond before he nuzzled right back in, burrowing into your chest like you were some long-lost paradise he had finally returned to.

You stared at the ceiling, dead inside.

How was this your life ?

You used to have dignity.

You used to be a strong, independent person.

And yet, somehow –somehow– you had become a glorified human mattress for your very large and very needy boyfriend.

And the worst part ?

You didn’t even mind.

You sighed deeply, fingers slipping into his hair against your better judgment. James melted immediately, exhaling in a way that was obscenely pleased. Like if he were any more relaxed, he'd have dissolved into a puddle of mushy, lovesick goo.

Then, with the solemnity of a man about to deliver a groundbreaking presidential address, he cleared his throat.

You barely had time to register the shift before he–

“Ladies” James began, his voice smooth, reverent “It’s always a pleasure”

Your mouth fell open.

Did he just–

Oh, for fuck’s sake.

“I just wanted to take a moment to express my deepest gratitude” he continued talking to your breasts, completely ignoring the look of utter disbelief and sheer horror plastered on your face and sighing dramatically “For your service. For your warmth. For providing me with the best naps of my life”

Your soul, quite frankly, left your body, just straight-up abandoned you.

“James–”

He shushed you.

Shushed you.

“I’m having a moment with my girls, baby” he whispered, like he was delivering a speech at fucking Buckingham Palace.

You gaped at him. “You are not-”

“I am” he placed a hand over his heart “They deserve it”

You had never contemplated murder so seriously in your life.

James, completely unbothered, pressed on.

“I promise to treat you with the respect and admiration you deserve. To appreciate your softness in all its glory. To-” he paused, tilting his head “Actually, I feel like I should name you”

“For the love of God, James. Don’t you dare-”

He gasped.

Gasped.

“That’s a brilliant idea. Baby, why haven’t we named them ?”

You smacked his arm, your eyes so wide they threatened to fall out of your skull. “Because they are literally attached to my body ?!”

But he wasn’t listening. No, the absolute menace was thinking, brows furrowed in deep concentration.

“They deserve names that reflect their greatness. Something regal. Something powerful”

He snapped his fingers. “Got it. Thelma and Louise”

You groaned. “Absolutely fucking not”

James ignored you.

“Or maybe Hall and Oates ?”

“I- What- Aren’t they both men ?”

“Gender’s nothing but a social construct, darling”

“Ok-”

A sudden gasp interrupted you, as if he had just discovered the meaning of life itself.

"Baby- Baby, I’ve got it"

You sighed, already regretting everything. "James, no"

"Yes" he insisted, eyes alight with the thrill of an idiot about to say something profoundly stupid "Bonnie and Clyde"

You blinked. Once. Twice.

"You want to name ‘your girls’ after two actual criminals ?"

He nodded solemnly, as if he were making the most reasonable suggestion in the world. "Iconic criminals. Star-crossed lovers. Thrill-seekers. Just like us, babe"

"Just like us ?" you repeated, incredulous "James, they literally died in a hail of bullets"

"Tragic, right ?" he sighed dramatically, resting his cheek against your chest. "Just two outlaws against the world. Inseparable. Madly in love. Probably great at robbing banks"

You stared at him, completely dead inside. "Are you about to compare my chest to a highly coordinated armed robbery ?"

James lifted his head just enough to grin at you.

"Well” he mused, eyes twinkling “they did steal my heart"

You were done. So done, in fact, that you just gave up entirely.

"I cannot believe this is my life" you muttered, shoving your hands over your face.

James, the absolute menace, took this as encouragement and nuzzled back in, pressing obnoxiously reverent kisses between his newly christened 'Bonnie and Clyde'.

"Rest easy, my loves" he murmured dramatically "Your legacy shall live on"

"James-"

"Shhh" he hushed, patting your side "They're outlaws, baby. They don’t play by the rules"

At that point, you seriously considered pushing him off the couch. Or out the window.

Maybe both.

You shook your head, defeated, completely annihilated by your boyfriend’s questionable choices.

James grinned, entirely too pleased with himself.

“Oh, come on. I’m just having a bit of fun” he chuckled lightheartedly, turning his attention back to your chest with the solemnity of a man who had just finished writing a best-selling novel “Well, ladies, whatever your names may be, just know –you have my eternal devotion”

And then, as if he hadn’t just committed the most embarrassing crime against you, he nestled back in with a satisfied hum.

You stared down at him, deadpan.

“You’re an actual menace”

“And yet, despite that, you love me” he mumbled, already half-asleep.

You sighed, your fingers automatically sliding into his hair once again. It took him less than two seconds to turn into a puddle, his entire body going limp as he exhaled in the most ridiculously pleased way possible, like he had just been given an award for the best nap ever.

“Unfortunately” you muttered, your heart melting just a little bit too, because, yes, he was a ridiculous man, but he was your ridiculous man.

And, as much as you complained, you couldn’t deny it --having James like this, warm and completely wrapped around you, was its own kind of perfect.

The Pillow Contract (Unofficially Signed & Approved)

Clause 1: James gets unlimited chest pillow privileges.

Clause 2: Y/n reserves the right to kick James off if he drools in his sleep.

Clause 3: Cuddles are mandatory.

Clause 4: James won't ever refer to Y/n's chest as ‘Bonnie and Clyde’ again. Penalty: annulment of Clause 1.

Hello beautiful people 💗

I have no idea of where this thing spouted from. It popped in my head, and I had to bring it to the world 😂.

This is my first attempt at a more humorous type of fic. I had so much fun writing it, and I really hope it didn't downright suck, and you had a good time reading it, too.

Let me know what you think!

Thank you for reading, and I'll catch you in the next one <3

880 notes · View notes

aisiedaisie · 5 months ago

Note

hiiii ʚ₍ᐢ. .ᐢ₎ɞ i just found your page this morning and read through your entire masterlist and i loveeee your writing! is it possible to get royal poly!marauders at a ball or something and they catch sight of the reader (can be whatever role you wanna give them) and they are like 'damn'

Hello hello~!!!

First of all, thank you so much for patiently waiting for me to get to your request. Life has been pretty hectic on my end, so writing had to take a back seat for a little while. But today, I finally had some time to sit down and write!

Now, let me just say— this idea is absolutely amazing! I’m completely in love with royal and historical AUs, so there’s a good chance I’ll revisit this concept and or turn it into a series of drabbles. (Not that I’m particularly skilled at keeping things short!!!)

I really hope you enjoy my take on your idea 💖

edit: I got a bit carried away-

Royal Flush

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4

Pairing: Poly!Marauders x Fem!Reader WC: 3.7k

The night after the neighboring kingdom’s delegation arrives, the Griffyn Kingdom buzzes with anticipation. To honor their esteemed guests— especially the visiting princess —the King and Queen have announced a grand ball. This celebration is more than an act of hospitality; it is a shining declaration of unity, a glittering prelude to alliances and promises that will shape their shared future.

You find yourself standing in Princess Lily’s chambers, the soft glow of candlelight casting flickering shadows against the ornate walls.

Before you, Lily examines herself in a floor-length mirror, her emerald-green gown a masterpiece of silk and embroidery. You and Mary fuss over the gathered fabric at her hips, smoothing it into place with careful precision.

“I can manage the rest,” Lily murmurs, her voice gentle but decisive. She steps away, gliding toward the gilded jewelry box on her dressing table. Its lid is open, revealing an array of jewels she brought for the journey— diamonds, emeralds, and sapphires glittering alongside an assortment of tiaras.

“You two should get ready as well,” she adds, her tone as light as the shimmering necklace she picks up, its facets catching the firelight.

You pause, caught off guard. “What?” The word escapes before you can stop yourself.

Normally, Marlene would stand guard in her knightly uniform, Mary would accompany Lily throughout the event, and you would remain behind— content to watch the festivities from a quiet corner of the castle, keeping a vigilant eye on the princess’s chambers.

“There’s no need for that tonight,” Mary says, her voice warm with reassurance. She steps forward, deftly fastening the diamond necklace around Lily’s neck. The glittering stones resting perfectly against the princess’s pale freckled skin. “We’re on excellent terms with the Potters. No one here will mean us harm.”

The words hang in the air, both an assurance and an invitation. Tonight is different, you realize.

A diamond tiara rests atop Lily’s head, its intricate design sparkling like a constellation of stars nestled in her fiery red locks. She adjusts it briefly, her reflection regal and resplendent. “You rarely get a chance to enjoy yourself during visits like this,” she says softly, her tone kind but firm. “Go on, get ready.”

You nod, a small smile playing on your lips, touched by Lily’s thoughtfulness. Her generosity warms you in a way words could never fully express.

With her gentle urging, you retreat to your own room to prepare. A quick bath washes away the lingering weariness of the day, and you do your best to ready yourself for the night ahead.

Despite your efforts, a sense of inadequacy lingers.

For such grand occasions, it’s expected that the lady's maids and companions are impeccably dressed, each carrying at least one formal gown for travels like these.

You do have such a dress— a blush colored piece gifted to you by your mother when you first joined the palace as Lily’s lady’s maid.

The fabric clings just a little too tightly at the waist, its once flawless seams now strained from years of careful reuse. The soft blush color, though elegant, has faded slightly with time, its original vibrancy dulled by repeated wear. The bodice is adorned with modest embroidery— delicate vines and blossoms stitched in pale gold thread that catches the light just enough to hint at refinement. The skirt, while gracefully cut, feels heavier than you remember, its weight pulling at your movements as if to remind you of the weight of high society.

It was the best your family could afford when you first came to the palace— a gift from your mother, its fabric chosen to honor both simplicity and a touch of nobility. Back then, it had been a symbol of hope, a token of pride for a baroness’s daughter stepping into the royal household.

Now, however, standing before the mirror, you can’t help but feel its inadequacy in the face of tonight’s grandeur.

Even so, you smooth the skirt with steady hands, letting your fingers trace the faint ridges of the embroidery. This night, you remind yourself, is not about the richness of your gown, but the confidence you bring and the memories you make.

Perfection may elude you, but presence—your presence—is more than enough.

When you step back into Lily’s chambers, it’s clear everyone is ready to go. Lily, as expected, looks effortlessly regal in her emerald green dress, the rich color complementing her fiery red hair that cascades down her back in elegant waves. Mary, ever composed, is radiant in a soft yellow gown that perfectly flatters her figure, her dark hair neatly arranged in a low bun at the nape of her neck.

“You look darling,” Lily murmurs, stepping forward to gently brush a stray lock of hair from your forehead. Her touch is as light as her tone, her emerald eyes warm with affection.

You roll your eyes playfully, unable to suppress a grin. “Says the actual goddess standing before me.”

“Truly,” Mary chimes in, her voice sweet as she adjusts the clasp of your necklace, ensuring it sits perfectly centered. “You’ll be the belle of the ball.”

Before you can protest their kind words, a knock at the door interrupts the moment. Marlene peeks her head in, her light blonde hair swept back into a tidy low ponytail. “Ladies,” she announces with a bright grin, “it’s time to head down.”

Excitement ripples through the room as the evening’s promise beckons.

_____

You weren’t quite sure what to do once you stepped onto the crowded ballroom floor. Back home, state balls were familiar territory, their routines and customs etched into your memory. But here, in a foreign kingdom, uncertainty clouded your thoughts.

Was the etiquette the same?

Would it be seen as rude to linger by the walls, content to watch the swirl of color and movement before you?

Must you be drawn into the heart of the celebration?

Apparently so.

You stand near one of the grand marble pillars circling the ballroom, the cool stone a comforting anchor amidst the overwhelming splendor. A glass of white wine rests in your hand, a half-hearted shield against your unease. From the corner of your eye, you notice movement—a man approaching with easy confidence. His dark hair is tied into a loose, messy bun, strands slipping free to frame his sharp features. His attire marks him as a knight of the Griffyn Kingdom, though the smirk curling at his lips carries a roguish charm and confidence uncommon in most knights you’ve met.

“You must be part of the delegation,” he says, his voice smooth, his smirk deepening as his gray eyes fix on yours.

You hesitate, biting back the urge to fidget. He’s handsome, undeniably so, but you can’t quite place why he’s chosen to speak to you. With a soft sigh, you nod. “I am.”

“I thought so,” he replies, a playful lilt to his tone. “I remember seeing you earlier, standing just behind the little princess. So, why aren’t you out there, dancing?” He gestures toward the center of the room, where couples spin and sway beneath glittering chandeliers.

“I’m not particularly fond of dancing,” you say, your voice quieter than intended. It’s not entirely true, but you hope the excuse is convincing enough to deter him.

“Nonsense,” he says with a laugh, his hand extending toward you. “Anyone can see you want to. Prove me wrong, if you’d like.”

The invitation lingers between you, daring yet strangely kind.

You hesitate for just a moment, glancing at the glass in your hand before setting it down on the corner of the nearest table. Then, with a small breath of resolve, you place your hand in his. “Don’t get mad if my heels end up on your toes,” you quip, a touch of nervousness slipping into your tone.

“Trust me, I’m quite nimble. Dodging danger is part of the job,” he replies with an easy smirk, already guiding you toward the dance floor with a confidence that leaves little room for argument.

Normally, you might have countered with a quick remark of your own, but your mind is too distracted. The pounding of your heart fills your ears, drowning out coherent thought.

The lull in the music amplifies every other sound—the clack of your heels against the polished marble, the low hum of whispered voices as heads turn to watch you pass. The weight of their gazes burns into your skin, and your hands tremble slightly as the knight clears a path through the crowd, his presence commanding in a way that both unsettles and reassures you.

Other couples filter onto the dance floor as the musicians shuffle their sheet music, preparing for the next song. The murmurs of the room settle, anticipation hanging in the air.

“Well,” you manage, your voice soft as you cling to anything that might distract you from the dozens of eyes still following your every move, “it seems you’re rather popular.”

“What can I say?” he responds, a teasing lilt in his voice. “I am rather handsome.” The smirk that accompanies his words is maddeningly self-assured.

Before you can respond, his hand presses gently against the middle of your back, drawing you closer. His other hand takes yours in a firm yet careful clasp, guiding you into the proper frame with a natural grace that makes it seem effortless. You barely notice the band striking the first notes of the song, your attention fixed on the storm gray eyes studying you with something close to intrigue.

You set your hand clumsily on his shoulder, your fingers brushing the smooth fabric of his maroon jacket. He doesn’t seem to mind your hesitation, his movements assured and steady as he begins to lead you through a simple waltz.

To your relief, the steps come naturally, your body quickly attuning to the rhythm of the music and the gentle guidance of his lead.

“What’s your name?” he asks, his voice soft, nearly lost beneath the rising swell of the orchestra.

You glance up at him, your voice barely above a whisper as you give your name.

“A beautiful name for a beautiful lady,” he replies smoothly, his lips curving into a charming smile paired with a wink that, despite yourself, pulls a smile to your face.

“And you?” you counter, a touch of playfulness creeping into your tone. “Who might this oh-so-charming knight be standing before me?”

His eyes glint with amusement, their gray depths catching the light like polished steel. “Sirius,” he says simply, the name rolling off his tongue with a quiet confidence.

You nod thoughtfully, letting the music and his lead guide you effortlessly across the floor. “An attention grabbing star for an attention grabbing knight,” you muse aloud, a small smirk tugging at your lips. “Seems fitting, I suppose.”

His laugh is low and warm, the sound wrapping around you like the melody. “Well, I do strive to live up to my name.”

“I doubt you have any trouble with that,” you say, a soft smile playing on your lips as you hold his gaze.

The music begins to fade, the elegant notes giving way to the quiet hum of conversations around you. As the dance slows to a stop, you take a small step back, though his presence still lingers like the warmth of the ballroom’s golden glow.

“So much for not being a dancer,” he teases, his smirk as effortless as the steps he led you through.

You turn to him, unable to suppress your grin. “Maybe you were just that good of a lead,” you say sweetly, your voice light with sincerity. But before he can respond, you catch sight of Mary and Lily across the room.

“I ought to check in on my lady,” you add, inclining your head slightly. “Thank you for the dance, Sir Sirius—”

“Sirius,” he interrupts gently, his tone almost playful. “Just Sirius is fine.”

You nod, your smile softening as you take a small step back. “Fine, then. Thank you for the dance, Sirius. It was... unexpected, but I truly enjoyed it.”

With a final glance, you turn and make your way toward Mary and Lily, weaving through the gathered crowd. The warmth of his hand on yours still lingers faintly, and his name echoes in your thoughts like the fading strains of the music— a memory you suspect will stay with you far longer than the evening itself.

_____

James and Remus stepped out of the nearest sitting room, the faint hum of ballroom music echoing down the corridor. Remus, ever meticulous, adjusted James’s slightly askew collar, his fingers deftly hiding the newly formed love bites that marked the prince’s neck—evidence of their brief but heated absence.

“We need to get back before anyone notices,” James murmured, his voice low but tinged with amusement as he fixed his tousled hair.

Remus smirked. “We’re already late. Let’s hope Sirius hasn’t set the place on fire in our absence.”

But as they approached the ballroom’s grand entrance, what they saw made both men falter. There, on the dancefloor, Sirius Black was leading a woman in a waltz.

The sight itself was striking. Her blush colored dress stood out in gentle contrast against the bold, jewel toned gowns of the others swirling around her. The simplicity of her attire only seemed to magnify her elegance, and for once, Sirius appeared utterly focused, his usual roguishness tempered by something softer.

“Sirius never asks a woman to dance,” a sharp voice cut through the hum of the crowd. James and Remus glanced toward a cluster of women, their faces half hidden behind delicate feathered fans. The speaker, a haughty looking noblewoman, tilted her head knowingly, her words drawing murmurs of agreement from those around her.

Remus’s brows knit together. Sirius was notorious for politely but firmly declining the endless stream of invitations to dance he received at events like these. Yet, watching him now, Remus found he could understand why Sirius had sought out this particular partner.

She was... radiant.

“Well, isn’t she a sight to see,” James murmured, his voice just low enough for Remus to hear.

Remus nodded, his hazel eyes tracking the woman’s graceful movements. “If I’m not mistaken, she’s one of Princess Lily’s lady’s maids,” he said, his tone thoughtful.

James’s eyes widened slightly in recognition, a mischievous grin spreading across his face. “Is that so?” he drawled, the spark of an idea lighting his gaze.

Remus sighed, already sensing trouble. “What are you thinking, James?”

The prince’s grin only grew. “I think,” he said, “we should pay a visit to the princess. Seems like her lady’s maid could use some... royal introductions.”

_____

After reuniting with a gushing Mary and Lily, a server approaches, bowing their head politely before handing you a fresh glass of wine. You thank them quietly, though you can’t help but find their deference a little peculiar. Still, you accept the drink, shifting your attention back to the princess as she launches into a spirited account of your performance on the dance floor.

“You looked absolutely stunning out there,” Lily exclaims, her cheeks slightly flushed from the excitement of the evening—or perhaps the wine.

“She’s right,” Mary agrees with a hum, a bright smile lighting her face. “Everyone was watching. You two were the talk of the room.”

Both women had taken their turns dancing with high-ranking gentlemen throughout the night. Suitors vying for the honor of even a single waltz. Yet, they seemed convinced that your dance was the highlight.

“He’s quite a talented dancer for a knight,” Mary observes, taking a sip from her own glass.

You nod, a small smile tugging at your lips. “I figured he’d be good, considering how confident he seemed. But he led me effortlessly. I barely had to think about the steps.”

“Well,” Lily interjects with a soft laugh, her hand fluttering to her lips as though trying to stifle her amusement, “that’s hardly surprising. He’s a noble, after all.”

“What?” Both you and Mary turn to her in confusion, the notion catching you both off guard. Nobles rarely became knights, considering the station beneath them. Sirius hardly seemed the exception, yet here you were.

“He’s the son of Duchess Black,” Lily explains with a slight grimace, lowering her voice. “Her sons are far more tolerable than she ever will be.”

“Lily!” Mary scolds, her eyes darting around to ensure no one overheard the princess’s blunt critique. Fortunately, the surrounding hum of conversation seemed to swallow the comment whole.

“But...” you trail off, your brows furrowing as you ask. “Did you not just dance with the heir to the duchy?”

“That would be my younger brother,” a smooth, familiar voice cuts into the conversation, making you turn sharply.

Sirius stands behind you, his easy smirk firmly in place, though there’s a glimmer of amusement in his gray eyes. Heat rushes to your cheeks, and you instinctively dip your head in greeting, murmuring, “Sir Sirius.”

“Sirius,” he corrects lightly, his gaze softening as it lingers on you.

“Sirius,” you murmur, correcting yourself softly.

His smirk softens into something warmer. “You danced with Regulus, Your Highness?”

“Lily,” the princess corrects, her tone mirroring his own.

Sirius chuckles, his attention shifting to her. “Of course, Lily. So, you danced with Reg?”

“As I always do, Sirius,” she replies with a sigh, clearly anticipating where the conversation might lead. Her expression brightens, however, as her gaze lands beyond him. “Oh, James, Remus! A pleasure to see you.”

Both Mary and you instinctively bow your heads, mirroring Lily’s graceful greeting as two men approach.

“Leave the formalities for the elders,” James teases, waving his hand dismissively. “Raise your heads, ladies.”

James Potter is every bit the image of royalty, dressed in a pristine white suit adorned with a red sash. The high collar adds to his regal air, but it’s his confident posture and easy smile —so warm and almost boyish—that truly captivate.

Beside him stands a tall, broad shouldered man with tousled brown hair. The scars that trace his skin catch your eye briefly before you hastily return your attention to the prince, unwilling to appear rude. Yet, the man’s hazel gaze, calm and piercing, seems to notice everything.

“Are you all enjoying the ball?” James asks, his voice warm and smooth as his signature smile graces his lips.

Lily answers first, her response polite and poised as ever. Her agreement prompts Mary and you to nod along.

“Glad to hear it,” James replies, his smile widening. “I know Sirius was enjoying himself not too long ago,” he adds with a teasing lilt, his hand clapping Sirius on the shoulder and lingering there in a way that seems deliberate.

“It was one dance,” Sirius groans, tilting his head toward the prince in exasperation.

“One dance more than usual,” Remus chimes in, his deep, steady voice carrying a hint of humor. His hazel eyes flicker to Sirius, glinting with quiet amusement as he observes his discomfort.

James turns his gaze to you, his teasing grin softening into something gentler. “He didn’t step on your toes, did he, my lady?” he asks, the mock solemnity of his tone bringing a smile to your lips.

You shake your head, your amusement showing clearly. “Of course not.”

James bursts into laughter, the sound rich and full, drawing a few curious glances from those nearby.

“Having women cover for your clumsy footwork now— what a shame,” Remus adds, his tone dripping with mock disappointment as he shakes his head.

Sirius turns to you, lips curling into an exaggerated pout. “Now look what you’ve done. You’ve egged them on.”

You shrug, a playful smile tugging at your lips. “Now, why would I do that, Sirius?”

“You’re killing me, doll,” he groans dramatically, prompting laughter to ripple through the small group.

The conversation shifts back to something closer to polite, though the teasing undercurrent remains. Mary moves subtly closer to you, her hand brushing comfortingly over your back. It’s then you notice the weight of the many gazes lingering on your group, a pressure you hadn’t fully realized until now.

Your eyes lower to the polished marble floor as you focus on listening to James and Lily’s easy banter, their words melding with the hum of the ballroom.

“You alright?” Remus’s voice pulls your attention. He steps closer, his question soft, laced with genuine concern.

You nod lightly. “It seems all of a sudden I’ve run out of energy,” you say, a polite fib. The truth is, this entire night has been draining, though you don’t want him to think he’s dull company. “I’m not used to parties like this,” you add quickly to clarify.

Remus’s lips curve into a smile, his expression warm and understanding. “We have lounges on the top floor for guests who need a break. You’d be welcome to rest there if you’d like.”

You shake your head gently. “I really shouldn’t, but thank you for the suggestion–”

“That’s a great idea,” Lily interjects with an encouraging smile. “Let’s rest our feet for a while.”

“I’ll let Marlene know we’re heading upstairs,” Mary offers before slipping away, likely toward one of the food tables where Marlene is undoubtedly stationed.

“We’ll escort you,” Sirius says smoothly, but Lily raises a hand, declining the offer with a polite smile.

“We’ll be fine on our own, but thank you,” she assures him.

“Of course,” James replies, bowing his head slightly.

Mary returns soon after, accompanied by Marlene, who carries a golden plate piled high with delicate finger foods.

“Enjoy your rest,” James says with a gracious nod, his tone sincere though his smile holds a trace of teasing warmth.

The women dip their heads in thanks before retreating upstairs to find a quiet lounge.

_____

As soon as they’re out of earshot, James turns to Sirius with a mischievous smirk. “Well, wasn’t she a sweetheart?” he asks, his teasing tone unmistakable.

“She’s polite but knows how to hold her own. I’d say you’ve chosen well, Sirius,” Remus adds with an approving nod.

“If you two hadn’t left me—” Sirius starts, a hint of irritation coloring his words.

“We did say you could join us,” James cuts in, raising his hand as if to defend himself.

“And you know damn well if all three of us disappeared, people would notice,” Sirius counters, arching an eyebrow.

James shrugs, entirely unbothered. “Your loss.”

“Not entirely,” Sirius says with a wolfish grin. “It just means we can take our time later.”

“No visible marks,” Remus warns, his voice carrying the weight of experience. “We’ll have guests for a while.”

Sirius rolls his eyes, his grin unwavering. “It’ll be fine—it’s never stopped us before.”

Remus sighs, his lips twitching upward despite himself. “Fair enough.”

614 notes · View notes

novvabee · 5 months ago

Note

could you write about the mauraders when they go to the shrieking shack for the full moon and there’s another werewolf? Idk something like that

ooooo, this gave me a really fun idea, hope you enjoy 💗

The Deer, The Dog, And The Two Wolves

summary: remus meets another wolf

word count: 2.3k

“I mean, did you see her? Talk about fit!” Sirius laughed, walking through the portrait into their common room. He was talking about the new girl, the girl who had started halfway through the semester.

Poor girl was paraded in front of the whole school for her sorting. She was obviously embarrassed and uncomfortable to be the center of the whole school’s attention.

“Too bad she was sorted into Slytherin,” Sirius said as he threw himself across a sofa in the middle of the common room, “I would have liked to get to know her.” This made Lily and Mary scoff from the opposite couch in front of the fireplace.

“Why’s she starting in the middle of the semester?” James asked.

“Maybe she just moved here.” Lily supplied.

“Lucky her,” James said, “she just missed midterm exams.” Everyone chuckled at that.

While everyone was conversing and laughing, Remus had dread looming over him. His muscles began to ache and he could feel the effects of the approaching full moon. The moon would be tomorrow night, but Remus had been feeling it all week. After a while of chatting, all he wanted to do was crawl into bed.

“I am quite tired,” Remus said, standing and motioning for the boys to follow. “I’ll see you guys tomorrow?”

“Yeah! Just meet us in hogsmeade.” Mary says.

Remus nods, the other boys say their goodnights and they all make their way up to their room. As soon as the door was shut behind them, Remus was falling into bed.

“What is the plan for tomorrow?” James asked, they usually had no trouble sneaking out and waiting in the shrieking shack for Remus, but this time, the girls insisted the boys come with them to hogsmeade for the day. Only Lily knew about Remus, so sneaking away was going to be harder than normal.

“I was thinking I could cut away from the group with Remus and we could head to the shack while you help Lily distract the others.” Sirius said, having planned that out fairly quickly. “That sound alright?” he asked Remus.

Remus was too tired, too weary to answer vocally so he just nodded. The boys looked at him with pity, they knew how he was feeling, so they just opted to let him sleep.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

The day spent in Hogsmeade was lovely, despite the pain and tenseness that Remus felt, he still enjoyed himself.

They made their way from shop to shop, buying candies from Honeydukes and gadgets from Zonkos. The girls begged to stop by Gladrags and the boys reluctantly agreed.

“Fine,” James said, rolling his eyes, “but only because I need a new tie.”

The group piled into the shop, the girls immediately rushing towards the new dresses and coats, Remus and Sirius turned to browse the rings and necklaces.

Remus felt… odd. He felt the hairs on his neck stand and a chill run down his spine, immediately set on edge. He had never felt this before, a new experience for him. He put himself on high alert, scanning the shop, but seeing or sensing nothing out of the ordinary, just that unfamiliar tingle.

“Dear Merlin,” Sirius muttered from beside him. Remus followed his gaze across the shop to see Regulus. It seemed like the brothers noticed each other at the same time, because Regulus turned to his group of friends, and they swiftly exited.

“Still in a spat?” Remus asked Sirius.

Sirius huffed and replied “I don’t wanna talk about it.”

Remus left it alone, seeing as the day was going very well, he didn’t want to ruin it in any way.

James got his tie and the girls all bought different clothes and were ready to continue on. It was getting later in the day, the sun would set soon, so Remus wanted to finish the trip.

“Butterbeer, anyone?” he asked and the whole group perked up and started down the street towards The Three Broomsticks.

Remus opened the door for the group, allowing everyone in, before stepping in himself. Once inside, that grating feeling was back. He looked around again, but was met with the same outcome, there was nothing awry. Confused, he just figured the moon was messing with his senses.

The group found a table towards the back of the pub and they all squeezed in. Remus found himself sandwiched between Marlene and James. The whole bunch was lively as ever, laughing and joking, talking about everything and nothing at all.

The witch who ran the pub asked the table for their orders and James ordered butterbeers for the whole table. So typical of James, to order and pay for everyone, spend his fortune on his friends and a good time.

Mary gasped from across the table, making everyone turn their attention to her. “Don't look now,” she said, “but that new girl is sitting with the Slytherins.”

The whole table snapped their necks toward where Mary was looking.

“I said don’t look!” she squealed.

She was right, the new girl was sitting next to Dorcas and across from Regulus, looking like she was in a deep conversation with them. But, almost like she felt their eyes on her, she looked over to them. The whole group tried to turn and make it look like they weren’t just staring at her(it was so obvious), but she caught Remus’s eye before he could look away.

It was like she looked directly into his soul, and there was that feeling again. Remus could have sworn she sat up straighter, taken by surprise for some reason. She narrowed her eyes at him, looked him up and down, then returned to her conversation.

Odd…

Their butterbeers arrived and Remus put the interaction aside, deciding to just enjoy the rest of the time he had with his friends. Once the group finished, Sirius casually yawned and turned to Remus. “Fancy a smoke?” he asked. Remus nodded and exited the pub with Sirius.

They began their journey to the shrieking shack, Remus feeling the nip in the air, but also that feeling. He took a cigarette out of his jacket pocket, handed one to Sirius, then lit them both. Perhaps a smoke would ease the odd sensation. Walking in comfortable silence, taking drags of their cigarettes, the boys eventually ended up at the shack.

Remus dropped the butt of his cigarette and snuffed it out with his shoe, Sirius taking one last drag, then doing the same.

“Now,” Sirius started, “James will meet up with us but it’s business as usual right?”

Remus nodded. “Yeah, just try to stay in the forest like normal.”

“Gotcha,” Sirius replied. “Gotta lock you in now, Moons.”

Remus opened the door to the shack and stepped inside. He pulled the door closed and heard Sirius mutter the spell to magically seal him in until he transformed, then one of them would open the door and they would spend the whole night racing and playing in the woods in their animal forms.

Remus didn’t enjoy a lot of his lycanthropy, but being able to run in an animalistic way with his best mates, that was one thing he did enjoy.

Remus made his way upstairs to the old, beaten up bedroom, and layed on the bed. He began waiting for the transformation.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Something was off, Sirius could tell. He and James, who had broken away from the group finally, were sitting at the edge of the forest.

They heard Remus transforming, which was never easy, but this time it seemed that he was having a particularly rough time. James winced from beside Sirius and shook his head. Once they were certain he was fully changed, James magically unlocked the door.

They both transformed into their animagus form, but Remus didn’t come out. Sirius and James looked at each other and Sirius went inside to check on Remus, coax him out of the shack.

Sirius padded upstairs, expecting to see the wolf destroying something or clawing at the furniture, but he was met with a completely different scene entirely. The wolf was pacing around the room in a circle, sniffing the air and whining. When it saw the black dog that had entered, it perked up, but still looked around, as if looking for someone else.

The dog raced downstairs, goading the wolf to chase it. The wolf gave in easily and followed the dog down the stairs and out of the house where they were met with the large stag. The wolf tackled the deer, rolling and play-fighting until the wolf’s ears perked up. It snapped it’s head to the forest and bolted.

The dog and the deer had no chance to wrangle it before it slipped through the tree line and into the dark forest beyond. The dog and the deer looked at each other and then dashed after the wolf.

Sirius didn't understand what had gotten into the wolf, but raced as fast as he could to catch up.

That is when the howl came from deep in the forest. Everything stopped, the whole forest seeming to be silenced. Then the answering howl sounded.

The deer and the dog followed the sound to an opening in the forest, a small field with a large oak in the center. They expected to find Moony there, chasing something, but they were not expecting to see two wolves circling each other.

They hung back at the tree line, watching but ready to protect Remus if anything were to happen.

The other wolf was smaller, a female, but just as dangerous, still a werewolf.

The two wolves continued circling each other, tense. The smaller wolf noticed the dog and the stag at the forest’s edge, and growled, hackles raising. Moony stepped between her and his friends, protecting them, and growled deep back at her. The other wolf turned her attention to him now, focusing all her anger at him.

Moony wasn’t backing down, determined to protect the dog and the stag behind him. He clawed at her, catching her right under the eye. She wasted no time in returning the favor, and swiped right back at him, getting him good.

Moony, shocked, stepped back and sat down, like a dog asking for a treat. The other wolf blinked, then mirrored his actions. Moony pounced and ran off, the other wolf following, chasing.

They were playing.

The dog and the deer looked at each other, then back to the two wolves, then joined in.

It was slightly harder, keeping track of two wolves rather than just the one, but at least they could rough-house with each other and not be too afraid to hurt the other, like Remus often was with Sirius or James.

The two wolves raced each other and swam in the lake, the whole group having fun, until Sirius noticed the morning light. Dawn would break soon and Remus would transform back, they needed to get him back to the shack. Moony, however, was being more difficult than normal.

The moment Sirius and James tried to corral him and chase him back to the shack, Moony refused. He kept wandering over to the other wolf, trying to continue to play. So James and Sirius decided that both the wolves had to be wrangled into the shack, if that was the only way to get Remus back in.

That task was incredibly difficult, Moony bouncing all over the place and the other wolf threatening to snap at the boys if they got too close. They eventually managed to lock both the wolves in the shack with minimal damage.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Remus woke on the floor of the bedroom feeling more tired than he had ever been after a full moon. He felt like he could sleep for ages. His aching body needed all the rest it could get.

Small moments from the night came back to him and suddenly…

He snapped his head toward the bed to see a sleeping figure curled up in the old and torn blankets. That feeling tingled the back of his neck again.

The figure sat straight up, feeling the same feeling. Remus knew that face, the new girl. She made direct eye contact with him, then quickly scanned the room, unsure of where she was.

He could see she was scared, so he calmly said “It’s ok, you’re ok.”

She looked at him unsure. “W-where are we?” she asked, voice a little raw.

“This is called the shrieking shack, it's where I come… to transform.” Remus answered, still trying to calm her and get her to trust him.

“You’re the wolf I was with last night?” she asked, more like putting the pieces together.

Remus nodded. “My name’s Remus.” He smiled.

“Y/N” she answered.

“Nice to meet you Y/N.” He said, noticing how she seemed to start relaxing.

“And… that dog and the deer?” she asked.

Remus chuckled, not knowing exactly how to answer that. “They’re harmless.”

She nodded and they sat in silence for a minute before she spoke again. “I didn’t know there were others… like me.” she said.

Remus didn’t know how to talk about this with anyone, he had never met another werewolf. All he could seem to do was nod.

“H-how long have you been… you know…” she asked timidly.

Remus smiled sadly. “‘I was bitten when I was really young, about three.” He answered.

Her eyes widened and she gasped. “Three!?” she looked in disbelief. “I am so sorry, you’ve had to deal with this for a long time…”she trailed off. “I was bitten a couple years ago. That's why I transferred schools, the other one kicked me out, thought that I was a danger to the other students.”

“I am so sorry,” this time it was Remus’s turn to feel bad.

She smiled sadly. “It’s ok, besides, now I know someone else like me.”

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unconventional-lawnchair · 8 months ago

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-We'll Heal Together- MasterList

HIATUS

-We'll Heal Together (Angst, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort) 12/? parts Remus Lupin/Sirius Black x Reader

Masterlist

Playlist - Songs I listen to while writing/Songs I think express the readers various relationships.

Summary: Harry Potter grew up without the warmth of a family he should have known. A father in James Potter, a mother in Lily Potter, a God Father in Sirius Black, and an uncle in Remus Lupin. Oh, and let's not forget, a godmother in {Y/N} {L/N}

Alt Summary: Starts at the end of Chamber of secrets and into the Prisoner of Azkaban with the first chapter, Harry meeting his father's old friends, and starts learning the fate of {Y/N}, who has long since been presumed dead. there seems to be more of a story hidden behind her disappearance, and in turn, her reappearance.

Running Wc- 39,037

Chapters:

•Prologue •Part One •Part Two •Part Three •Part Three 1/2 {Blurb} •Part Four •Part Five •Part Six •Part Seven •Part Eight •Part Nine

I'll Look After You

•Prologue (Nine 1/2) •Part Ten •Part Eleven

Blurbs/Oneshots:

• You and Sirius's break up... • Coming soon...

{Summer at the Potters}

Blurb request form: Prompt/Question: Must have Charaters: Optional:

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acciofictionalmen · 5 months ago

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fallout in the snowfall ❆ part 1

james potter x female!reader

summary: when james kisses you on an adrenaline high, your friendship is in shambles as the true meaning of "just friends" becomes irreparably warped. you both desperately try to restore the platonic bond that you once shared, but at what cost...

warnings: strong language, sexual references

word count: 2.9k

series masterlist

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4

Music drowned out your senses, the beat thrumming through your body as intensely as the pounding of your heart. Hoarse from screaming, your throat tickled as you laughed with your friends, revelling in Gryffindor's success from the day's Quidditch match against Slytherin.

Lights flashed across the Gryffindor Common Room as the Fat Lady's portrait swung open, people whooping as James was carried inside, basking in the attention like a cat- like a lion in the sunlight. Everyone began chanting his name, you joining in with a laugh as he was hauled even higher on Sirius' shoulders, people reaching over to smack him on the back as he swayed precariously. His tousled hair was stuck to his forehead with sweat, cheeks flaming red from the thrill, glasses cracked in one lens and his eyes... they burnt with the aftermath of success, glowing with that glimmer only a decisive victory could bring. His eyes scanned the room as he craned his neck, looking, searching; until his gaze landed on yours.

Something seemed to crackle in the air between you, the intensity of his fiery eyes pulling your body forwards, as though you needed to be near him. The chatter of your friends slowly faded into the background as you paused, biting your lip uncertainly.

James, on the other hand, wasn't one to hesitate. Not when he had been younger - when if he had wanted something he took it without a second thought - and certainly not now. James had enjoyed the perks of a privileged upbringing, and there were certain aspects he wasn't ready to relinquish yet.

Tapping Sirius firmly on the shoulder, his best friend loosened his hold and James jumped down. His eyes never left yours. He strode forwards, pushing past people as they cheered and tried to clap him on the back, his expression glazed with determination. No-one was going to get in the way of what he wanted.

Everything seemed to slow as James reached you. The music died in your ears, the loud cheering gradually fading. Your mind was a whirlpool of emotions, unsure where this was going, but also ready. James' chest heaved with adrenaline as he neared, closing the already small distance between you. His eyes flashed dangerously as his tongue darted out to wet his pink lips. You looked up at him, doe eyes wide, yet simmering with longing that had been repressed for far too long.

James considered your uncertain expression as his hand dragged up and down your shoulder in what was supposed to be a reassuring manner. As your best friend, James had always been touchy, but this was different.

It drove you crazy.

"A few kisses won't ruin our friendship, love."

Looking up at him through your lashes, you smiled slyly; his need for you in that moment so palpable that your skin flushed beneath his gaze.

The look he was giving you. Of exasperation, of longing, of want. You knew your face mirrored his.

James grunted with the force of his lips colliding with yours. His hands flew to your waist as you met in a flurry of passion and lust and want as one of his hands snaked up your side and tugged at your hair, eliciting a gasp- he stole it away with another kiss, then another, and another. The music flooding your ears once more combined with the vibrant lights hot on your skin and James' lips on yours surged the intensity of the moment to new heights. Heights that you teetered precariously on, feeling free and unreachable but capable of crashing at any moment.

He broke away for a split second as you both gasped for air, eyes frantically searching the others, as though you needed confirmation that this was happening, before pulling you back into him as though your lips on his could offer more relief than oxygen ever could. You were his lifeline and right now, James felt more alive than he could ever recall.

The night blended together in a haze of drinks, lights, laughter and more stolen kisses, the memory simultaneously so clear yet vague that you could only be left to ponder (and regret) everything that had occurred the following morning, as you trailed down to the common room from the girl's dormitories, massaging your forehead in a futile attempt to relieve your hangover. You hadn't expected to find James, who apparently hadn't even managed to make it to bed, asleep on the crimson sofa.

The creaking of the stairs as you crept forwards caused him to stir in his sleep, sitting up groggily once he noticed you.

He blinked a few times, forcing the sleep away, and stood up suddenly.

Groaning, he sat back down.

"Hungover hit yet?" You smirked, sitting down next to him.

James' black hair was the messiest you'd seen in a while and his glasses still flaunted a thin crack.

Leaning over him you raised your wand, muttering 'Oculus Reparo' as the crack sealed itself.

His eyes stayed shamelessly on your lips the entire time. You hesitated, not instantly moving away.

It was the signal James had been waiting for. Before you could speak his hands snaked around your waist.

His fingers lifted your chin, his eyes half-lidded as he murmured, "One more won’t hurt." His lips brushed against your lips as he murmured against you, “Right?”

You nodded, breathless as he swept hair away from your face.

So, he had remembered last night.

He leaned in, grazing his lips against yours again as though he was testing his own self-restraint, playing a dangerous game as he tested both of your boundaries. They didn't hold.

Within moments, James had lifted you onto his lap, kissing you with as much urgency as he had only a few hours ago. You returned the action, your hands tangling into his hair, determined to make the most of this kiss if it would be your last. James' hands brushed up and down your sides, sending sparks surging through your body.

You pulled away, eyes still closed as his forehead pressed against yours, "What is this, James, what was last night?" You breathed, scared to shatter the moment you hadn’t realised you’d wanted so desperately.

He groaned at the absence of your lips as his hands circled your lower back, "Friends kiss, love."

His eyes glinted with that familiar confidence beneath his glasses and you were unable to look away, that brief glimmer only enticing you more. His voice was rough as he spoke slowly, "Would you like me to stop, my best friend? My bestest girl?"

Your hands tightened in his hair at the pet name. His words should have thrown you off. They should have. But you had unknowingly craved this for so long, and this... maybe it worked. You could satisfy the part of you that craved him without the threat of losing your friendship.

"Don't stop."

The words triggered something in him, and James leant in.

──── ୨୧ ────

The kisses didn't stop.

Whenever you sat down with him at breakfast James greeted you with a kiss on the cheek, his hand lingering on your thigh throughout the meal.

He'd steal kisses from you after class, people conveniently crowded outside as he’d pull away, a smirk gracing those intoxicating lips.

Every time he kissed you sent shivers through your body- the feeling addictive. But soon, you began waiting for something. Waiting for the moment he'd pull away, his eyes searching yours, and ask for something more.

It hadn't taken long for the others to notice, but any ideas of the two of you together were quickly quenched by James' assertions that the two of you were the closest of friends- and nothing more.

He'd kiss you after quidditch practice when Gideon Prewett was getting on his nerves. Because he needed it, he always claimed. Because a kiss from his best friend was what he needed after he'd worked so hard and had to deal with irritating team mates. You were more than happy to oblige.

He'd kiss you when you'd hang out with the group, pulling you onto his lap when you all sat together by the black lake, laughing at the group’s jokes. This carried on for so long that it became integrated into your normal routine, the others long beyond questioning anymore.

But after the initial two weeks, it didn't feel right. It felt stagnant, and you began wondering if you’d be forever trapped between friendship and something more. By the third week, you felt empty.

You recounted this to Mary MacDonald, one of your closest friends. She listened patiently as you spilled every detail on the floor of the girl's dormitory, your legs crossed as the words tumbled out of your mouth.

She placed a hand on your wrist, causing your rambling to skid to a halt.

"How do you actually feel about all this, (Y/n)?" She questioned, waving her freshly painted pink nails through the air, trying to dry them before she did yours.

"I-" you frowned, absentmindedly brushing your fingertips over your lips. The ghost of James' lips temporarily invaded your thoughts, "I love it when he kisses me."

Mary's eyes glimmered with something you couldn't recognise, but she kept quiet, prompting you to continue.

"But it's not enough. It's not enough," the words began to pour out, and you couldn't stop them, "I almost feel greedy- I want more. When he kissed me for the first time something changed and I- I don’t know. I guess I thought things would be different. That they would’ve developed by now.”

Mary sat patiently, admiring her freshly painted nails as she gave you space to sort through your thoughts.

“I love his kisses, but all they do is remind me that they're not enough." You paused, Mary's brows furrowed as she watched you, "I want more." You whispered, your voice quiet, barely audible. The words merged with the comfortable silence between the two of you as she mulled over your confession.

Mary wasn't one to offer a meaningless response, and that was something you adored her for- she genuinely cared. Still pondering, she gently placed your left hand on her knee as she began to paint your nails in the pretty wine-red colour you'd selected earlier.

It was once she reached your ring finger that she finally spoke, "You deserve more, (Y/n), and I'll be damned if that makes you greedy."

She paused again, eyes crinkling as she focused on wiping some stray polish from your finger.

"It’s human to crave a proper relationship- not whatever James is doing. I don't think he's quite realised it, but he's taking advantage of you, (Y/n). He's giving you the bare minimum."

Her blunt words snapped your eyes up from your nails, your left hand done as you replaced it with your right.

"I don't want to stop being friends with him." You said, hesitantly.

"And you won't," Mary's eyes lit up, "All I'm saying is if that jerk wants to kiss you, he has to work for it." She insulted James with that level of affection shared by old friends, but there was an edge to her voice.

You laughed, but her words resonated within you, particularly with your level of self-respect. Entirely consumed by this change in dynamic with James, you’d unintentionally disregarded your dignity in the process. Allowed him to assume you'd always be there, lips puckered and eyes closed.

You shivered at the thought. The revelation sent a wave of bitterness through your body. You weren't angry at James, no, more so at yourself for putting up with this for so long.

Mary smirked, recognising the resolution in your eyes as she finally set down the nail varnish, screwing the lid on, "It’s about time James Potter had to actually work for something."

You held back a snort, eyes crinkled with amusement.

"Thank you, Mare." You gestured to your nails, but she caught the double meaning.

"Anything for my best friend." She stood quickly, cursing as she almost smudged one of her nails, "Dinner?"

Within minutes you’d entered the hall, arms linked with Mary’s as you marvelled at the newly put up Christmas decorations. Just over a month away from Christmas, they glowed brightly; snowflakes swirled down from the enchanted ceiling, fading into nothing before they could touch the people sat beneath. Wreaths hung above every fireplace, which crackled comfortingly... and the tree. At the opposite end of the hall stood the massive fir tree, one you could've sworn got bigger each year. Baubles shimmered against the glow of the candles, the tinsel and angel hair that had been carefully draped over the branches made it look as though the tree had been dunked in pure starlight. Magic never ceased to amaze you; there really was a charm for everything.

As you scoured the Gryffindor table in search of your friends, Lily happened to look up at the same time and waved you over. Your breath hitched, noticing there was a seat either next to her or next to James. Mary gave you a pointed look as she slid down into the seat next to the latter, leaving you to join Lily- opposite him instead. James immediately looked up as Mary sat down, his brow crinkling slightly as he turned to you. It was no secret he’d saved that seat for you, and an uncomfortable moment passed before the others resumed their conversation.

Having just returned from practice, James was dressed in mud-splattered quidditch gear, the word gryffindor stretched across his broad chest. His hair was that familiar mess, and you mused whether you could run your fingers through it without them getting stuck. He downed his full glass of pumpkin juice in one, his eyes never leaving yours.

Your fingers drummed steadily on your thigh as you slipped in and out of Sirius’ story, laughing occasionally, but unable to dedicate your focus when James was sat directly opposite.

Only your eyes were on Sirius as he wildly gestured with his hands, recounting the tale; your mind wasn’t on his words. James’ leg brushed yours under the table, a bid for your attention. You didn’t react, dragging your attention back to Sirius instead and joining in to laugh at something else he’d said. What exact you were laughing about, you weren’t sure.

It felt wrong, almost unnatural, not to be touching James in some way. In just three weeks your body had gotten so accustomed to his lingering touches, his sly brushes against your thighs, that you felt unsettled by the lack of them. You noticed James flexing his large hands, as though he too didn’t know what to do with them if they weren’t on you.

You exhaled with relief when the food came, snapping you out of your thoughts yet again- a welcome distraction. As you began to fill your plate with steaming piles of food, your eyes fell on Mary’s. She had been engaging with the rest of the group’s antics, but the knowing look in her eyes told you she’d been observing the both of you the whole time.

She gave you a smirk, flexing her right hand dramatically, just as James had done. You snorted, your hand instantly flying up to your mouth to stifle your laughter. The tension momentarily evaporated as you realised that nothing escaped your best friend’s notice. The others paused, looking confused, but Mary quickly waved them off after muttering something about an inside joke. You only giggled in response.

After a collection of mouth-watering meals you stood, exhausted and ready to sleep. Mary and Lily also got up, both ready to leave. You didn't kiss James on the cheek as you usually did, instead linking arms with your friends as you left the sparkling hall.

You weren't ignoring James. No- from now on you’d simply treat him as a friend, because in the past few weeks the meaning of the word had gotten so twisted between the two of you. You were determined to restore it, unwilling to settle for kisses that amounted to nothing.

You had had an hour to mull over Mary's words. James' behaviour was intentional- it wasn't as though he hadn't had every opportunity to turn your situation into something more. It was James who had constantly enforced the 'friend' idea the hmost, leading you to assume he wasn't interested in you the way you were him. And that was fine- but you'd show him what a true friend was. Challenge his claim that friendship involved his lips on yours.

James silently stared after you, Sirius snorting, "How've you fucked that one up, man?"

"There's nothing to fuck up." James rolled his shoulders nonchalantly, ignoring how they suddenly felt heavy.

"Sure." Sirius' eyes flashed knowingly, "And Pete didn't fuck up his charms test."

Peter had gotten a T (Troll) on his most recent charms test.

Remus rolled his eyes, shooting Peter an apologetic look as he stood from the table, "Well, I'll leave you all to it."

And so he did, leaving James entangled in thoughts almost as messy as his hair and filled with a desperation to know why you’d seemed so distant. He chalked it down to your having a bad day, certain that tomorrow you wouldn't be able to stay away from him again.

Oh, how wrong he was.

A/N

EEK!!!! i can't believe im about to press post.. i've been working on this series idea for a long while... truthfully most of my ideas get scrapped after a few weeks but this one really really stuck with me so i'm glad I didn't press delete on the word doc... i'm thinking this'll be about six-ish parts, so bear with me :,) this series will be christmas themed, so expect loads of snow and presents to come!

& if you'd like to be added to the taglist do lmk! i'd be honoured to add you ♡

and please feel free to share your thoughts, opinions, reactions, what you think will happen next... i love reading them allll

series masterlist here ❆

#james potter #james potter x reader #james potter x you #james potter x y/n #sirius black #remus lupin #lily evans #mary macdonald #harry potter x reader #harry potter #hogwarts #gryffindor #slytherin #the marauders era #marauders fanfiction #marauders era #james potter x female!reader #peter pettigrew #fallout in the snowfall

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that-bitch-kat3 · 1 month ago

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another conversation i'm so sure happened

marlene: I broke up with Cardoc

mary: oh no! what happened?

marlene: well i just found out i'm lesbian

lily: you JUST found out?! I didn't realize you didn't know or i would have said something

marlene: you knew? lily, you went on multiple double dates with us!

lily: I know! Those dates were some of the many reasons I knew you were a lesbian

marlene: well are their any other big revelations you want to share with me that I might be missing?!?

lily: you have mommy issues

mary: and you have a crush on dorcas, although i don't think those are related

marlene: I WHAT?

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blossomarlia · 3 months ago

Note

hi bit a of weird request but would you be able to write one where fem!reader is walking home from a party and feeling kind of insecure/sad but james sees her and like cheers her up?

hi! hope this is kind of what you wanted, thanks for the request <3

james potter x fem! reader

warnings: mentions of slut-shaming/victim mindset, reader is drunk and a bit insecure, excessive use of pet names

You try, uselessly, to pull your thin shirt across just a little more of your chest, skin sensitive and prickling with goosebumps as another chill sweeps through the lamp-lit street. You hadn’t expected the cold to affect you so quickly; at Marlene’s party, a combination of alcohol and crowded bodies had kept you perfectly warm. You’d felt warmed inside, too, confident and sparkling, for most of the night. You suppose the cold isn’t helping to remind you how that ended, either.

“You’re certainly putting on a show,” someone said. “Looks like you’re up for just about anything.”

Thankfully, Emmeline and Mary had been standing nearby, and the anonymous plus-one was treated to a thirty-five minute lecture on respect before being sent home. You tried to laugh at his expression and the bitter apology he threw your way- you did, really, but the damage was done. Worse, when you looked around and realised that almost none of your friends were dressed in quite the same calibre of party outfit as you were.

“What, you’re worried you look too hot? Relax, babe.” Marlene had said, trying to make you feel better. It would’ve worked if you hadn’t had quite so many ciders, and spent half an hour already feeling rotten. Mary, not realising that it had actually upset you (to be fair, you’d done nothing but pretend to be fine) said that to cover up would be proving him right, and how could you ask Marlene for a spare t-shirt after that? It would be vindication for everyone who thought the same thing as that stupid boy, wouldn’t it?

Now, freezing cold and barely halfway to your flat, you’re completely confused as to why you decided to abandon your cab home. You remember saying something about needing fresh air to the driver, and then you’d paid and he drove off without a second thought. Your friends would be worried sick if they knew you were out here all alone. And dressed like this, too, a mean little voice adds. Really, what do you expect to happen?

It’s not true or fair, you know, but this entire night hasn’t been anything like what you’d imagined when you were putting on makeup and getting dressed, and you’re so cold that your teeth are chattering, and it’s all making you feel awfully close to tears.

“Hey!” You stiffen, seeing yourself briefly silhouetted against the pavement by headlights behind you. You turn, tense and worried, and squint at the man sitting in the front seat.

“James?” You gasp, a hand on your stomach as you try to swallow the panic climbing your throat. “I thought you were- how are you here?”

James looks very worried and quite guilty, too. “Sorry, angel. Should’ve turned my high-beams off.” If you were sober and quite a lot happier, the endearment would make you smile- James’ habit of referring to everyone by a pet-name is one of the most lovely things about him. “I live this way, remember? I was supposed to be picking Pa- Sirius up, but he’s decided to stay the night at Marls’.”

You know their nicknames for one another- everyone does. Padfoot, Moony, Prongs. You don’t know what they mean, and don’t really need to, but it’s sort of nice that James always makes the effort to use Remus and Sirius’ real names when he’s talking to those outside their trio. Maybe he’s unaware that he does it, but it’s as if he’ll do anything to avoid people feeling excluded.

“Sorry,” You say, voice suddenly wobbly, and close your eyes tightly. You hear James’ door open and then his footsteps as he comes towards you- you expect his touch, and wouldn’t hate it but wouldn’t want it like you usually do, either- but then he’s draping something warm and soft around your shoulders. You open your eyes. You’re wearing one of his jackets, soft brown corduroy that reaches the tops of your thighs. You think you remember him saying it belonged to his father; Fleamont and Euphemia Potter are known within your circle of friends for being generous with their belongings. You think Lily was wearing one of Euphemia’s scarves in her ponytail tonight.

You sway in your heels. Why didn’t you take them off? Your feet ache terribly, another hurt to add to the list. You press a fist to your chest, willing yourself not to start crying in front of James, who is undoubtedly the nicest boy you’ve ever fancied.

“Will you let me drop you home? It’s too cold, you’ll get sick,” He asks gently, as if to prove your point.

“Okay.”

You sniffle. “Oh, sweetheart,” He says.

You’re bundled into the car, still shivering, and James reaches into the backseat to get a jumper- why he has so many articles of outerwear in his car, you’ve no idea- and puts it across your bare legs to warm you up. He turns the heater up the whole way and pats your shoulder before he shuts the door.

You look at him as he sits in the driver’s seat, your hands clammy and face raw with upset. “I’m really sorry. This is so embarrassing.”

He gives you a bemused half-smile, shaking his head. “How’s that?” “I’m not sober. And I’m hardly wearing anything.” The second part comes out much quieter, but somewhere between Marlene’s flat and this car you started feeling very sorry to everyone that you’d put on such a ‘show’, or whatever, tonight. Would it have been so hard just to wear jeans? You feel ashamed, dirty, embarrassed. People have probably been whispering about it all night.

James doesn’t start driving yet. “Are you okay?” He asks, more serious than you’re expecting him to be. “Did something happen?”

“No- well, yeah, but it was…” You squeeze your eyes closed again, pressing your fingertips cruelly into your lids and regretting it when they come away stained with mascara. You must look a sight. “Nothing bad happened, I just wish I hadn’t worn this.”

You glance at James to see him frowning at you, but he quickly smooths his expression. Great, he’s judging you too. “Why not, sweetheart? You look gorgeous. I hope someone told you, even if I wasn’t there to say it.”

You look like you’re up for just about anything, the other man’s voice echoes in your head. You take several short breaths.

“I just should’ve worn something else. I feel- um.” You rub your hands across your face. “There were just- this guy made a comment, I don’t know, it hurt my feelings. It’s silly. I’m drunk.”

You’re slightly startled to sense James tensing beside you, even across the console of his car. His hands tighten around the steering wheel. “Who was it? What did he say?”

“I don’t know,” You reply, truthfully to the former question and not to the latter. “It doesn’t even matter.”

“Is he still there?”

You’re worried James is going to turn around and go back to the party, he sounds so incensed, and when you look at him he’s wearing an expression that you’ve never seen before. You shake your head. “He’s gone. The girls made him. I- please can we just go? Sorry. It’s not worth talking about.”

“Yeah, yeah, of course,” James blinks and gives you an apologetic smile, pulling back onto the street and waving a hand in front of the heater nearest you. “This working alright? Are you warm enough?”

“Loads better, thank you.”

You drive in silence for five minutes. You want it to be comfortable, but your mind keeps spinning itself back to just about anything, and it’s getting more and more difficult not to cry. You’re grateful when James says your name.

“Do you want to listen to some music? You can choose anything,” He offers, opening the glove compartment in front of you with his eyes still on the road and revealing an extensive CD collection. “I bet you have good taste.” You look through the jewel cases, bemused but flattered by this assessment. You’re pleasantly surprised. It doesn’t take long for you to pick something, and James nods his approval.

“Good choice, angel,” He smiles over at you. It’s beginning to rain, the droplets scattering shadows across the car with each streetlamp you pass. They look almost like freckles on James’ face. “What’s that look?”

You realise you’ve been staring, though there’s nothing to indicate any sort of judgement in his tone. You look at your lap. “Nothing, sorry, I’m just… um, thanks for driving me. It was really kind.”

“You’re easy to be kind to,” He replies lightly, as if it’s nothing at all.

There’s another pause, perhaps more comfortable.

“That idiot who hurt your feelings,” James says eventually, “Was wrong. Whatever he said, he was wrong.”

“You can’t know that. Maybe he was exactly right,” You say, and don’t quite manage to laugh it off.

“I can’t think of a single bad thing he could’ve said that would’ve been true,” James retorts immediately. You look at him. “Truly.”

His softness is persuasive, even if he’s not trying to get information out of you. “He said that my outfit made it look like I was up for anything,” You admit, and your face heats in shame. Dread, too, that James will remain silent and unable to disagree, after all.

He’s frowning deeply when you glance at him. “What does that even mean?”

“You know what it means, James.”

There’s a moment where you worry he’ll make you spell it out, but then he huffs out a breath and nods, eyebrows knitted together. “Yeah, I do- I’m sorry, sweetheart. That’s a ridiculous thing to say to someone. What a dick!”

“I don’t think everyone found it ridiculous. I mean, it’s- it’s not really my most conservative outfit, is it?” You joke half-heartedly. Why am I arguing this? Why did one stupid boy’s comment ruin my confidence so completely?

“So what?” James counters, “What does it matter what you’re wearing? I- well, it matters to me because you look gorgeous, you really do- but it doesn’t say anything about what you’re ‘up for’!”

“I know that,” You say quietly.

“I really hope you do, angel,” He sighs, and pinches the bridge of his nose. “You’re- you don’t deserve that. I’m sorry he was so awful. No wonder you're upset.”

“It’s fine; I’m being a bit dramatic. I’m drunk.” “There’s nothing dramatic about being hurt when someone’s said something hurtful, it’s the most normal reaction” James says firmly. “It’s not a weakness, Y/N.”

“It’s just- I don’t know why I’m letting it affect me like this. I know it’s bullshit. If he’d said it to anyone else I’d’ve been one of the people shouting at him.”

“You’re a selfless person,” He says like it’s an immoveable fact. “It can be easier to stand up for other people than yourself; you’re only human.”

“Thanks, James.”

“No need to thank me, lovely girl.”

He starts talking about other things: rugby, a film they’re showing at your local cinema, a new bakery that’s popped up down the street from him. You’re struck by how much care he expresses with every detail; he’s liking rugby, but he worries the early wakeup times mean he’s disturbing Remus and Sirius in the mornings, neither of whom enjoy getting up before ten o’clock; he’s interested to see the film because Mary went on a spiel about its other iterations and interpretations by directors, and he wants to understand what she was talking about better; the new bakery is owned by a man who used to work with James’ father, but always had a knack for pastries and has spent years saving up to buy a place. It was James who told him about the shop being leased. It’s as if his entire world, his life, is constructed out of the love he has for his friends, and you find yourself capable of relaxing, smiling, laughing, the rest of your night momentarily discarded.

James can’t come in for tea, but he does walk you to your door and refuse to take back the jacket. “It looks good on you, angel. No surprise,” He grins.

You step forward, emboldened, and kiss him on the cheek. You hope you’re not so tipsy that his blushing is imagined, though he does stammer slightly before clearing his throat and speaking again.

“I should go home to Remus, he was expecting me a while ago. Will you be alright?”

“Yeah, should be,” You look up at him, wishing he didn’t have to go. “Thanks again.”

“Enough thanking. Would it- could I give you a ring tomorrow? Just to-”

“That would be really nice,” You respond, a beat too quickly to be nonchalant. You both laugh. If tonight hadn’t been what it was, you think you might like to kiss James properly. Instead, “Maybe… um, I could buy you something from the bakery to make up for all this?”

James’ brow furrows at the last part, but he’s relievingly open to your suggestion. “I’ll be paying, sweetheart, but it sounds like a plan. I’ll call in the morning to sort it out?”

“Okay,” You smile.

“Okay. Goodnight, angel.”

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msmk11 · 7 months ago

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How I Think Each Marauder Would Cuddle You :)

🫶

James Potter

- This man is ALL about physical touch, so I fully believe he will pick the cuddle position that allows for the most contact.

- And what might that be? Laying fully on top of you with his head buried in your neck.

- I don’t care that this man is big and buff, he’s throwing his whole body weight on you.

- Only shifts a little when you tell him that your limbs are literally going numb.

- But even then, he’s still alllll over you.

Sirius Black

- Little spoon, need I say more?

- Baby just needs to be held after being touch starved for so many years.

- I also don’t think he’s shy to admit it either.

- He loves to feel so wrapped up and safe in your arms, knowing you’re always there.

- If he is the big spoon, which is rare, he’ll definitely cling to your back like a koala bear.

Remus Lupin

- I don’t know why, but I’m certain Remus likes to lay face to face with your arms wrapped around each other.

- He loves to watch you fall asleep, getting so soft and precious.

- Also, when you’re in this position, you kiss and trace his scars, which makes him feel a little less insecure.

- It’s just so intimate, and I think Remus rarely indulges in this side of himself. But for you? He loves it.

- This also means you wake up every morning to him peppering your face with kisses :)

Peter Pettigrew

- During the day, I’m certain Peter would cuddle in any position. But at night, he can’t stand cuddling.

- He still needs your touch, but he also likes to spread out in starfish position.

- At all times though, one of his legs would be hooked over yours or vice versa.

- He also definitely holds your hand as you two fall asleep.

- Really likes it when you trace little circles into his skin as he falls asleep.

Lily Evans

- Definitely prefers you in between her legs with your head on her chest or stomach.

- Needs your arms wrapped around her at ALL times.

- Lily also really, really likes playing with your hair. It soothes her (and feels really good for you.)

- If she’s having a really bad day, you definitely switch roles and cuddle her.

- Encourages you to burrow under her shirt, sweater, etc. and share the neck hole to be as close as possible.

Marlene McKinnon

- Really likes being “pet.”

- The cuddle position doesn’t really matter to her as long as you’re doing something- scratching her head, rubbing her shoulders, trailing your hands up and down her back, etc.

- SUPER touchy and clingy.

- Her arms and legs will be wrapped around you any time you cuddle.

- This isn’t necessarily cuddling, but she always needs to be touching you.

Dorcas Meadowes

- A major fan of having you curled into her side.

- She really likes to lay on her back, so it’s nice when you rest your head on her shoulder/chest.

- One of her arms will always be wrapped around you.

- The other hand is preoccupied by you, who likes to play with her fingers.

- So many forehead kisses in this position.

Mary MacDonald

- Babes is really touchy and desperate for skin to skin.

- Really likes to lay half on top of you, one of her legs in between yours and her head on your chest.

- Is always smattering kisses all over your body- chest, collarbone, shoulder, face, wherever.

- Typically sticks her hand up your shirt to rest it on your stomach.

- She feels so safe in your arms that she falls asleep basically whenever you cuddle.

Regulus Black

- Takes a super long time to get him to be comfortable with cuddling.

- Will NEVER admit that he wants to be the little spoon, but he does.

- Takes literal ages to get him to say it out loud.

- Until then, he’ll always be the big spoon.

- But somehow, he always wakes up in the morning as the little spoon.

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randomwriting · 6 months ago

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Love Letters I Won’t Send

Pairing: James Potter x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 1.1K

Summary: In the midst of summertime heat and breakdowns, you find yourself falling in love with all the people around you. (some, more than others.)

A/N 💌: I intend to make this a series, haven’t decided if I should make it fully Poly!Marauders x Reader or not yet, so let me know what you think!

Also this is my first fic ever so kindness & reblogs are sincerely appreciated 💕

Beneath the annoyance permeating the halls of Hogwarts, and infesting every common room but the ones conveniently hidden under wonderfully cool lakes, (an amenity you were not jealous of at all), there was an amazingly rare heat wave sweeping over the entirety of scotland. You had to admit, the timing could not have been worse.

The unrelenting heat was the worst in the Gryffindor dorms, where some of the residents had begun looking an awful lot like one of their house colors. This unexpected side effect meant that dorms were essentially uninhabitable, and swarms of students had taken to the courtyard, the common room, or the halls, in refuge. And since hiding from your lingering feelings in your dorm was no longer a viable option, Lily, Marlene, and Dorcas had been forced to drag you out into an open space where you were far too susceptible to seeing the three boys you had been avoiding like the plague.

“You are going to bloody fucking kill yourself if you do not get out of that room.” Marlene practically shouted at you, after yet another failed attempt to free you from the boiling temperatures of your bedroom. Her exasperation with you, general fury with the world, and hatred of the weather was a dangerous combination. One you couldn't entirely fault her for.

“I'd sooner die than have to face those men, marls.” you heard her grumble something along the lines of “Merlins fucking beard” at your response.

“Look, I know this whole thing is complicated and whatnot, but you are driving yourself mad, holed up in a ridiculously hot room, overthinking about James, Sirius and Remus, when you should be swimming, or living, or fucking someone else to get over them!”

“I agree. You are too pretty and smart and funny and frankly too fucking hot to be sitting here moping.” Lily chimes in, smiling at you, unrelenting in her beliefs, you take a second, in the midst of the chaos, to admire her smile. The ridiculously engaging quality of her shiny teeth, the perfection of her skin and the red hair that floats around her in the sun, too much like a halo for you not to take note. It is so easy to love her. All of them, really. You only wish, quietly, that it was so easy for you to be loved. The way everyone knows Mary loves Lily, the palpable way you all can feel how Marlene loves Dorcas. It radiates under the surface of the whole group and flows further out into the school, they radiate love, and you feel it, in that brief and wondrous moment before you have to face the world, you ask yourself how on earth you got so lucky, that they might tolerate you enough to allow you this close to the masterpiece of their friendships and lives.

“Okay.” You relent, soft yet reluctant, as you come back to the present, a feeling of inadequacy settling heavily on your shoulders and in your lungs, “I'll leave the room but I'm bringing a book, and I insist on snacks and enormous amounts of lemonade if I'm being forced out into the wild.” You allow them to pull you up and out of the sweltering room, only because you’re not entirely convinced you won’t be able to simply meander away into some obscure hallway, cooled by the touch of the century old stone in refuge, the moment Dorcas and Marlene begin to notice just how little clothing there is between the two of them due to the immense heat. You stare ahead as you walk down through the common room, shoulders tense with something indescribable. Lily notices it, she also noticed the soft, odd look on your face earlier, and just like Lily Evans does, she files it away in a neat folder in her mind with your name written on it, one new thing to figure out about you, where exactly it is you go when your eyes get foggy and you drift off.

“Why are you avoiding the boys?” Dorcas asks suddenly, and you feel marlene and lily stop, to turn and look at her the same way you do.

“It’s just easier, if I don’t see them.” You tell her this half truth slowly, as you all continue to walk down the stairs, you don’t miss the dry look you get from Marlene.

“Easier? You were miserable earlier and I can’t imagine they’re thrilled at the prospect of one of their best friends disappearing without explanation.” She somehow manages to be blunt and soft and so uniquely wise.

“I have to move on, because we are just friends. That’s easier to do when I’m not constantly overwhelmed by Remus reading to me, and Sirius’ relentless flirting, and James calling me-”

“Angel! There you are.” A sweaty James Potter practically yells from across the courtyard as he sees you. Your heart stops, the sun is on his face and bouncing off of his glasses, his hair has never looked this good, ever. It’s damp and sideswept and you just know Sirius has been somewhere near it, because it looks particularly soft. You aren’t sure he isn’t actually an angel of some kind as he jogs over to you and the girls in his white tank top and shorts, positively beaming.

“Nice to see you too, potter.” Marlene snarks with a grin as James enters your personal space.

“Oh come on Marls, you know I’m always positively thrilled to see you.” His smile unwavering as he looks over at her, you take that moment of freedom from his gaze to wipe the sweat that formed away from your brow, and to start a silent conversation with lily, which really only pertains you mouthing “help” and her grinning at you happily, thrilled with the confrontation. She hated when you hid from things, from yourself.

“Did you put on sunblock? Sirius has plenty, if you haven't.” James asks you softly as he leads the small group to the tree where he had come running from, you can just make out Sirius and Remus under it, Sirius sprawled out on the grass, head in remus’ lap, who’s back is against the tree as he reads. You’re struck with fondness yet again as you look at them, finding it all too easy to fall back into that habit of loving them from afar.

“I did. Lily made me.”

You answer, with a playful glare at your favorite redhead. James’ smile grows somehow larger at the playfulness. You watch Lily sling her arm over Dorcas, you laugh as Marlene shoves it off, grumbling playfully about how she should go find Mary if she wanted to get all lovey dovey. Despite the tension you can feel, always present it seems, since you fell for James, there is an easiness. Perhaps because of the warmth and the abundance that comes with this time of year, or maybe just because you have found yourself living here, with people who you feel if you didn't already have magic coursing through your veins, would make you believe in its existence. They were just that wonderful.

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simply-cooler · 8 months ago

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sirius so brat summer coded. cigs, parties, drinking, brat green, eyeliner, all of it. mary is so barbie summer coded. heels, bikinis, surfing, bright pink, beaches, all of it.

#rip sirius you would’ve loved brat #rip mary you would’ve loved barbie #dorcas x marlene #the maruaders #remus lupin #james potter #sirius black #barty crouch jr #regulus black #dorcas meadowes #evan rosier #marauders #maruaders era #marauders era #marauders headcanon #mary macdonald #marlene mckinnon #the marauders #the marauders fandom

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meelusinee · 4 months ago

Text

SANTA'S IN TOWN | J.P X READER

word count \ 1.4k | chritstmas fluff | slash / james potter x reader

in which you dress james up as santa to surprise your kid author's note at the end!

FICMAS MASTERLIST

SANTA'S IN TOWN | J.P X READER

The fireplace was warmly lit right in the middle of the living room, Hari surrounded with people in the living room.

Sirius and Remus were both snuggled tight on the couch, with Sirius complaining about being cold despite being directly in front of the fireplace. Marlene, Dorcas, and Mary were sat on the rug with Harry, playing trains on the rug you had gotten for him recently.

It was a small gift for Hari, a little rug with train tracks and other designs on it made so he could play with his toys. Of course, James ended up using it more than you did, but at least he used it with Harry most of the time.

Which led you to where you were right now. Currently holding the white beard your husband would have to put on to finish his Santa costume.

“Are you sure that I have to go out there looking like this?” James grumbled, his hands running through his hair that had been charmed white. “Sirius will definitely call me old!”

“Is that a bad thing?” you asked, looking at him with a small smirk. “I think you look rather dashing with the white hair, y’know.”

“Now that you mention it,” he mumbled under his breath, running his hand through his hair again as he leaned forward a bit more. In all honesty, he did look rather good with white hair. “I do look rather dapper, if I do say so myself.”

“Yes you do,” you smiled, walking forward and kissing his cheek lovingly. “You wanna put the beard on now?”

“Yeah, yeah,” he said, grabbing the beard and putting it on. You thought that he made a rather good Santa, especially after seeing his eyes crinkle at the side. “You think Hari will like it?”

“I think he’ll love it.” you whispered, kissing his cheek lovingly. You knew Hari would love it, even though the clever boy would probably realize it was his dad after a couple of minutes. “He can’t love something he doesn’t know exists though.”

James gasped dramatically before nodding. “You’re right!” he said, quickly rushing to the door to grab the boots he bought for the costume.

“I’ll go out first,” you smiled, kissing his forehead. “Thank you for doing this.”

“Anything for you,” he whispered softly, pouting as he realized he couldn’t kiss you. He compromised, instead booping your nose with his gloved hand. “And Bambi, of course.”

You chuckled at that. “I love you.”

“Love you more.” he smiled softly.

“Hari!” you smiled widely, walking up to him as he waddled to you. “Hey baby.”

“Mama!” he smiled, hugging you as tight as a five year old really could. Which, surprisingly, was rather tight. “Where were you?”

“Mama was helping Daddy get ready for work,” you said with a small smile, kissing his forehead lovingly. “And, she has been very busy writing some letters to Santa for you.”

“Santa is coming?” Hari asked you excitedly, jumping up and down before you got a chance to say yes or no. “Thank you mama!”

“You’re welcome sweetheart,” you whispered, kissing his forehead and leading him to the couch.

Everyone got ready near the tree for photos, the fireplace barely crackling now as the kindle wood finally burnt itself dry. Remus was currently holding the camera, extending his arm far so everyone was in the photo. Lily, Mary, Marlene, and Dorcas were all standing together. Sirius was planning on hanging off of Remus’ shoulder, though him and Regulus started fighting midway through. Barty and Frank were both laughing in the background, Evan hitting them both with a newspaper.

And you were off in the corner with Hari in your arms, currently bouncing him up and down to distract him from all the noise. As much as you and Hari loved your family, you found that he didn’t like loud noises very much or very often.

“What’s on your mind, bubs?” you whispered, trying to divert his attention to just you while you had the chance. You didn’t need to try too hard to distract him though, as he was currently staring down the fireplace. “Something cool over there?”

“The fire’s green,” he mumbled, hand pointing at the tiny embers left kindling.

You gasped dramatically, watching as the fire roared and a tall man came out. He had on a red outfit and hat, along with glasses and white hair. “Is that Santa Claus?”

“Santa Claus!” Hari said happily, clapping his hands. Both of you walked over to where Santa, James, was standing. He had a sack of presents flung over his shoulder, and a wide smile on his face. “Hi there Mr. Santa!”

“Well, hello there!” James said, leaning down as his smile brightened even farther. He had gone the extra bit to try and deceive Hari, changing his eyes to a light blue color and his voice to a higher tone. “I’ve been told I’m making a visit to a very special boy this year, is that right?”

“I dunno,” Harry said, shrugging simply as he rested in your arms. “What’s his name?”

“Let me check.” James said seriously, pulling out a parchment paper with Hari’s name written in bold black ink. “His name is Hari Potter, do you know him?”

Hari laughed, clapping his hands again as he looked at the paper. “That’s me!”

“That’s you?” he asked, gasping dramatically before chuckling. His hands reached out to hold Hari, which you easily obliged to. “Well I’ll be, I’ve met a celebrity then!”

“I’m not a celebrity, Mr. Santa.” he said, still giggling. “I’m just Hari.”

“Just Hari is a great thing to be.” he smiled, placing Hari down on the floor before placing his sack of presents next to him. “Your mom pulled in a little favor and said you can open a couple of presents early, did you know that?”

Hari looked up at you with the widest smile you had ever seen on his face, and you knew that moment was one of the best moments you would ever have in your life. James obviously thought so too, his eyes crinkling from smiling so hard. You weren’t sure if he could even see with how far they crinkled, but you knew that he wouldn't care much.

“I can?” Hari asked excitedly, smiling brightly.

“Yes, ‘course you can.” James smiled, pulling out a medium sized present and handing it to Hari. “Here you go, Merry Christmas.”

Hari gasped loudly, opening it up to find a book that he had been wanting for ages. It was one you saw him eyeing every time you went to Hogsmeade, a book about the Quidditch team that his father played on. It listed every single member and their rank on the team, including photos of James and his broom. That was always Hari’s favorite part.

“Thank you so much Mr. Santa!” he smiled brightly, waddling over to the big green arm chair you had dedicated to your nightly reading sessions.

“Thank you, Mr. Santa.” you said softly, rubbing Hari’s hair lovingly as you kept the bit up. You watched as he opened the book and ran his fingers over the words so he could read it easier. You smiled softly, kissing his forehead with as much love as you could ever muster.

Santa Claus, or James, went through the fireplace just as quick as he appeared. His body went through in a green and misty fire, most likely apperating back to the bedroom to undress. You sat down next to Hari, the chair big enough for both of you to sit and read.

You barely noticed the rest of your family going around the house, Sirius and Barty guiding most of them to the kitchen for shots. Lily and Mary stayed behind though, both of them sitting next to you and helping you reenact the stories the book told.

“Dada!” Hari said, his eyes focusing on James as soon as he walked down the stairs. “You just missed Santa Claus!”

“I did?” James asked dramatically, frowning deeply as he stepped forward into the living room. “It seems he left presents too.”

“Oh yes, tons of them.” you smiled. “He even let Hari open one early, isn’t that right Hari?”

“Yeah!” he said, holding up the book with your assistance. “Look dada, it’s you!”

James smiled brightly as he saw the book, though you could tell it was a smile of genuine shock. James had been distracting Hari while you shopped for and wrapped presents, which made unwrapping the presents all the more remarkable.

“That is me!” he said, kneeling down to rest his head on the armrest of the large reading chair. “Why don’t you read it to me, bub?”

“Okay!” Hari smiled, sitting up properly as his fingers traced the words once more. His voice came out neat and crisp, even if he did stumble over a couple of words sometimes.

AUTHOR'S NOTE

i mainly worked on this today, but i did start on it yesterday so there's that i think? i'm still trying to recover from losing my daily streak that i had :/ BUT i will get back into it, maybe more like two to three times a week rather than every day. as a sidenote, i made a second blog for reposts and other things! if you want to check it out, its @meelusinees

AS ALWAYS, please like, comment, and reblog! i thank everyone who does genuinely it means so muchh and thank u all for the support!

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juleswritesstuff · 6 months ago

Note

Hello fellow italian!

I don’t really know if you take in requests but i’ll try anyway.

I was thinking jegulus x reader where reader is in a current relationship with james but also has a past with regulus, reader’s being intimate with james when he starts bringing up his worries about thenext quidditch match against slytherin, especially mentioning that regulus is too much of a good seeker to beat. Reader teases james bc he sounds like he has a crush on him but at the same time thinks of a way to arrange a ménage à trois. 😋

Hello to you, and thank you so much for your request 💌

This is my first request ever, and I am not kidding when I tell you I am so nervous I'm literally shaking in my boots. I tried my best and I really hope you like it 💗

jegulus x reader

warnings: suggestive

James’ neck had always been his weakest spot.

The way he shivered everytime your lips started teasing the sensitive skin of his throat was almost enchanting to see, the low breathy groans that escaped his mouth were pure music to your ears.

He became putty in your hands as soon as your tongue made contact with his flesh.

And yet in that moment, with your hips straddling his, bodies flushed against each other and mouth latched to that spot on his neck you knew made him melt, he was uncharacteristically quiet.

“James” you called softly, head still buried in the gentle curve of his shoulder.

“Mmh” his hands were on your hips, just resting there. No teasing, no fingers traveling everywhere until you were nothing but a bubbling mess on top of him. Every trace of the hungry, playful James he always was when he had you in that close of a proximity was dulled, clouded.

His body was there, but you weren’t sure you could say the same thing about his mind. Not after that barely audible mumble fell from his lips, anyway.

Something was wrong.

You lifted your head, eyes slightly narrowed and worried, ready to investigate whatever had made your boyfriend so quiet and distant when he was the most vocal guy you had ever met.

Especially in bed.

“James” you tried again, hand cradling his cheek and gaze searching for his seemingly absent one.

That gentle touch seemed to bring him back to reality.

“Huh ?” he blinked a couple of times with that lost puppy look in those hazel eyes finally focusing on yours.

“You’re rigid” your thumb started to caress his cheek gently, a grin curved your lips “And not in the good kind of way”

Realization seemed to hit him all at once as his eyes trailed over your body still straddling him, clothes all rumpled and eyes glazed.

He groaned.

“Fuck. I’m so sorry, love. I-” his hands left your waist, reaching up to rub his face in what felt like pure frustration “-you’re here on top of me, looking like that and all I can think about is this bloody Quidditch match. I must be going insane”

He sounded so appalled by his self proclaimed lack of sanity that a grin blossomed on your lips.

He was so cute you wanted to eat him up.

“The one against Slytherin ?” you already knew the answer, but that feeling in your chest told you you should’ve asked anyway.

“Yeah” he exhaled a defeated breath.

The smile on your face turned sweet, reassuring.

“You’ll do amazing, James” you said on his lips right before placing a light kiss on them “Like you always do”

The hand on your back started to rub slightly, a silent ‘thank you’ for your encouraging words. His face, however, was still morphed in an unconvinced frown.

“It’s just-” his eyes met yours and you could feel every ounce of uncertainty in them “Their team has been great this year, you know ? They have very strong players and a strategy that basically demolished Ravenclaw last time. Their beaters are ruthless, their chasers are as fast as lightning and have one hell of an aim, the keeper is absurdly good at bending at every angle to not let the quaffle even graze the hoop. And Black-” he paused, uncertainty shifting to pure, raw wonder “Merlin, Regulus is brilliant this year. He is quick, and precise, and so damn fast, like- did you see him last time ? He caught the snitch in less than thirty minutes. Thirty. Minutes. That’s gotta be some kind of record, right ? He is so talented it is actually marvelous to witness. It’ll be hard beating him and his outstanding skills, especially with how swift he is on his broom. Have you noticed it becomes like an extension of him when he is on the field ? He has an excellent control of his body and his mind is extremely focused on the game, but his eyes constantly follow the snitch, like the perfect seeker that he is”

“Sounds like you have paid very close attention to him” there was a smirk on your lips, one he couldn’t see with the way your head had returned back to tease his neck.

You could feel his heartbeat stutter right against your knowing grin, blood pumping faster and erratic at your words.

And you couldn’t even blame him in the slightest.

Regulus was, for lack of better words, utterly magnetic. He had an aura that was hard to ignore, luring you in with those raven curls and silver eyes, words sarcastic and aloof, but a mouth so sweet, so addicting that you couldn’t help crave more.

And you knew it too well.

You knew the feeling of those lips on yours, kissing and worshiping every inch of your body, you knew the touch of his hands, burning and teasing and reverent. And you knew the sensation of his eyes on you, heating your skin, making you shiver with their intensity.

The same passion with which they still looked at you, even after months of ending your little encounters.

The same fervor with which they looked at James, too.

And James ? Oh, he definitely looked back.

And you did, too.

”He’s on the opposing team, baby. I have to pay attention” his voice trembled as the words rolled out of his mouth, and you honestly didn’t know if it was because you were now biting the sweet spot right below his ear, or because he was clearly lying “For weak spots and, ah-“

Oh, his low moans were delicious music to your ears.

You couldn’t help your brain wandering to dangerous places.

Places where the music became a full symphony, accompanied not only by your breathy, needy whimpers harmonizing with his deeper, gruffer ones, but also by a chorus of filthy words and desperate sounds coming from a mouth you were more than familiar with.

“Mmh” your tongue darted out to soothe the bitten skin “Or maybe someone has a little crush”

“What ?” came out of his mouth in breathless disbelief.

You grinned, lips continuing their torturing journey.

Your hands went to his shirt, all rumpled and misplaced, unbuttoning it slowly, leisurely.

Because there was one thing that James couldn’t help doing while he was lost in pleasure.

Speaking his mind without veils.

Usually that led to some of the lewdest things your ears had ever been graced with.

But right in that moment, as your fingers danced on the skin of his sculpted bare chest, traveling down and down slowly, you hoped it would lead to some other kind of truth.

One where he got rid of all his inhibitions and finally allowed himself to admit his desires.

You weren’t blind, nor stupid, and the way James looked at both you and Regulus with that same fire in his eyes told you everything you needed to know.

“Isn’t he beautiful ?” you asked, mouth slotting with his in a filthy dance of lips and tongues.

“Y/n” he grunted, sounding more pleading and desperate rather than annoyed.

The way his body reacted told you everything you needed to know.

“Come on” you bit his lower lip, feeling the plump flesh between your teeth “It's just an innocent question”

“Is it ?” his hands on your waist tightened, making you hiss at the way his fingers were burning on your skin.

"Absolutely” you whispered right on his mouth, hips gaining a life of their own and starting to move right over his crotch.

The grunt he let out went straight to your core.

“Liar” he said with a grin on his lips, not buying your fake coyness even for a minute.

He saw right through you.

But you saw right through him, too.

James wore his heart on his sleeve.

“Answer me, Jamie” you whispered in his ear, your hips rolling on his in a sultry, sensual rhythm.

Wanting him to fall apart under your touch. Wanting him to let go.

Your hands buried in his hair, tugging lightly and eliciting a deep moan from his kissed bruised mouth.

“Isn't Regulus gorgeous ?”

Your hips moved faster, erratic and filthy and determined to make him see stars.

His head tilted back in pleasure, hands gripping your waist for dear life.

And, finally, all his walls crumbled.

“Fuck, fuck- yes. Yes, he is. He is- holy shit. And you are, too. You are. You both are. And I really need you right now or I'll literally combust on the spot”

He barely made it to the last word before your lips were on his once again.

There wasn't much talking after that, both your mouths way too busy in other more pleasurable activities.

But that didn't mean the gears of your brain had stopped turning.

Oh, no. They were working even faster, picturing some of the filthiest things you had ever thought about.

Scenarios that involved an empty quidditch changing room, a running shower and two very sweaty, very handsome boys with adrenaline still filling their veins and fire burning in their eyes.

Yeah, you could have definitely worked with that.

Might do a part two with a little bit of...spice 😏

Ps: I absolutely take requests <3, so feel free to send me your ideas and I'll try to fulfill them the best I can. It might take a while to write them though because uni is currently killing me 😀.

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everythingisromant1c · 9 months ago

Text

It's Always Been You - Chapter 4

james potter x fem!reader

summary - With rumors flying all around the school, it seems like the very last thing you need is any more drama. Nevertheless, it's come time for the annual party in the Gryffindor common room, and something in your gut is telling you that the drama isn't going to die down just yet.

wc [5.0k]

all chapters | <- Chapter 3 - Chapter 5 ->

You didn't know why you'd let Marlene and Lily talk you into thinking your outfit was a good idea. It had felt like it'd be something fun and new while you were coddled in the comfort of your dorm, but now that you were in the crowded Gryffindor common room in the middle of a party, you reckoned you'd give it twenty more minutes before you went back upstairs to change.

The fabric of your top hugged your body in a way you didn't think you'd ever get used to, and the stoop of the neckline only had you more on edge. You toyed with the necklace you were wearing, idling against the steps on the far side of the bustling room.

"Stop overthinking your outfit and go party."

Marlene strolled in from next to you wearing a tired smirk, swirling around a cup of something you couldn't see but could certainly smell.

Your lips parted in surprise. "How did you-"

"Your face gives away how you're feeling like reading a book." She took a sip of her drink, wincing. "Surprised Potter hasn't found out you're in lo-"

With widened eyes you swatted her in the arm, coming close to knocking over her beloved drink. She reeled back. "What the bloody hell was that for?"

"Not so loud." You scolded in a hushed tone, peeking around at the dozens of people hovering around the both of you in the tight space of the common room. "And I'm not in love with him, Marlene." You crossed your arms in front of your chest, rubbing at the sides of them. "I'm over him."

"First of all, it's a party. No one can hear us." You looked past Marlene to all the dancing people around you, rowdy and probably not listening, and sighed. She was probably right, but that didn't change the fact that her voicing your feeling for James allowed made your mind flare in alarm, especially after all the rumors going around. "You know I'm right," she deadpanned. "Second of all, no you're not."

You stared at her confusedly, until she mouthed "over James."

Your lips parted in offense. "Yes I am." She titled her head at you like she pitied you and it made you want to shake her senseless until she believed you. "I've been moving on steadily," you chided again, nodding like you were declaring it to yourself too. "I mean it."

And you did. At least you were trying to mean it. That didn't mean it wasn't hard.

You'd been wandering through the crowd in search of nothing in particular, maybe a drink, when you heard a laugh—James's laugh. He'd always had the kind of laugh that you always recognize, even across a crowded room. It was filled with a bubbling homeliness that you always found yourself missing, and right now, it had you finally making your way towards him through the crowd. You felt a surge of nervousness settle underneath your skin when you saw him.

You came to stand behind him, finding him with Remus, and tapped him on his shoulder. He turned curiously behind him, noticing it was you who had tapped him as his face greeted yours with a smile.

You opened your mouth to say hello, but a dancing someone bumped into you from behind, sending you stumbling forward. James caught you, hands steadily holding your waist as your hands braced against his chest.

You knew you'd flushed right away, feeling the warmth on your cheeks as soon as you felt James's firm chest beneath your fingers. You didn't think he noticed though, because he was too busy trying to scope out whoever had bumped into you.

"Hey," he called sternly to the boy now to your right, tone harboring indignation. You shook your head, gingerly squeezing James's arm to get his attention. You ignored the obvious muscles of his bicep in your hand.

"Don't worry about it," you told James lowly. "It was probably an accident."

He turned back to you, hands still holding onto your waist steadyingly. "He pushed you."

You smiled in affection at his reaction. "It's a party. And I'm fine, promise."

Letting out a breath through his nose, James relented, turning to give you his full attention. A second went by before he said anything, and you hated how focused you were on the feelings of his hands still on your waist, meeting the bare skin revealed by the top you were wearing.

"Wow," he whispered. He said something else that you couldn't hear, and you frowned.

"What?" you asked, and right away James stooped his head downwards so that his lips rested right by your ear.

"I said," he began softly, hand still braced on your torso as your entire body lit aflame. "You look beautiful."

You were momentarily stunned, basking in the way just the three words had you speechless in his arms. You looked down at your shoes, James's eyes trained on you with interest.

"James," you whispered reluctantly as he complimented you, and he let a lopsided grin plaster over his lips. He stooped down further and met your lowered eyes with a glimmer in his own, not letting you escape him.

"I mean it," he insisted softly.

He stood back up fully, taking a step back, and you could finally think straight. But then you took in his own appearance and your mind was hazing over again, because all you could think about was how good he looked.

His chocolatey curls were perfectly messy but shining, and the formfitting t-shirt he was wearing paired with his jeans made him look like he came straight out of a catalog, though you were sure he hadn't given more than a second thought to the outfit. James always looked effortlessly handsome in that way.

Before you could compliment him back, you heard a voice call James's name. He turned towards it, a familiar boy greeting him with a rugged hug. When they pulled apart, he began asking him something about Quidditch.

As Captain, James had been determined to assemble a winning team that year, something he'd mentioned in his letters to you over the summer. The two began talking more avidly, and you took that as your time to leave and go find the others. James noticed right away and turned to you, lightly holding your elbow.

"Where are you off to, Love?"

Love. You shook the word away. "I'm just gonna go find the guys."

James nodded but looked troubled, glancing between the boy he was talking to and you. You put your hand on his, nodding reassuringly. "It's alright," you promised. "I'll meet you in a bit?"

He thought for a second before nodding. You walked off, soon hearing him strike up more conversation with the boy from behind you, their voices raised over the loud music. You went to go find something to drink, to chase away whatever you'd just felt talking to James.

A few more hours into the night had people's brains turning fuzzier, movements turning loser, and laughter getting louder. You'd went back up to your dorm room for a minute to use the bathroom, the line in the common room much too long, and by the time you came back down the stairs, a small crowd had gathered around the couch and fireplace in a circle.

You took in the scene with interest as you neared it, seeing all your friends compiled in the group too. Half sat lazily on the couch and half on the floor with their backs to the lowly simmering fire. Then you noticed the bottle sitting in the center of the circle, noticing the round of Spin the Bottle going on with dreadful recognition.

Seeing you, Marlene immediately called you over and you shook your head right away.

"Absolutely not," you said before she could even get the words out to ask you to join.

She scoffed, pouting. "Come on, even Lily's playing."

From beside her, the ginger reeled at her tone offensively.

"Oh please," argued Marlene before turning back to you. She yanked your arm excitedly until you were sitting on the ground next to her, facing the couch where James, Sirius, Peter, and a few other students sat.

Remus stood leaning against the back of the couch with a bottle to his lips, and you caught his glimmering eyes as he dryly smiled down at you before tipping his head back to drink. You noticed the bottle he held in his hands was the same as the one that sat in the middle of the haphazard circle you'd all made.

You wanted to leave, figuring that there were probably few people in the entirety of the room you'd be remotely okay with kissing, but Marlene wasn't having any of it. You watched reluctance as Mary explained the rules of the game to everyone, jittery and full of suggestive smiles.

You let your eyes drift to where James sat in front of you on the couch, and he met your nervous eyes with a sort of amused twinkle in his own, seeming absolutely unfazed by the idea of the game. You gave him the most casual smile you could and he leaned back in his seat, legs sprawled lazily with his arm around the back of the sofa. He tilted his head to the side and made a weird but funny face down at you. You laughed under your breath, hiding it behind your hand from Marlene who you could feel watching your interaction through your peripheral.

"Everyone gets a turn," instructed Mary, voice fighting against the tunes of ABBA in the background. "Whoever the bottle lands on you have to kiss. Simple." She pointed a warning finger around. "Kisses on the cheek will not be tolerated."

The circle all gave chuckles of their own, while the uneasiness of it all set you on edge.

"If you opt out of a kiss you have to drink up to the next line." Mary picked up the bottle in the middle of the circle, and you watched as she pointed to the black lines drawn on the side of the glass bottle. "And don't worry, we made sure to get the strong stuff, so be wise about opting out!" More laughing came as she winked, putting the bottle back down on its side.

"I think I'll go first," she said, a satisfied smile plastering itself to her glossed-over lips.

Crawling forward onto her knees, she reached for the bottle on the floor in front of her and spun it. Every pair of eyes watched intently as it went round and round before landing slightly to your left, pointing to the blonde-haired girl beside you.

Immediately people cheered and laughed, watching it all go down with fascinated interest fueled by the many drinks of the night.

"Drink up Mary," joked Peter from the couch. Mary smiled even more than she already was, looking up at him with a tilted head.

"Why would I?"

Then she crawled back next to Marlene who met her with an interested raise of her brows, and waited just a second before leaning forward and kissing the blonde. Wolf whistles and cheers exploded from all around at the kiss.

You turned back to your two friends as they pulled away from each other, cheeky grins encapsulating their faces.

"Who's next?" asked Mary, unfazed as she sat back in her spot.

Sirius looked between the two girls with a slack jaw. "That was hot."

You rolled your eyes, glancing over at Marlene from next to you and nudging her in the arm playfully, happy to be on the other end of the gesture. She ignored you and kept her eyes forward inside the circle, but that didn't stop you from noticing her trying to bite back her smile.

The game continued, going clockwise around the circle from Mary. There were more kisses shared and more wolf-whistling, the bottle in the middle slowly draining after each swig that had your classmates wincing painfully every time.

The game had gotten to the other side of the circle, reaching where Remus stood against the back of the couch.

"Come on Lupin," sang Frank from across the circle. Remus shook his head, arms crossed.

"Count me out." He held up the drink that was already in his hand and knocking it back swiftly. How he could drink it so easily, you had no clue.

"Alright then," complied Mary, clapping her hands together. "Who's next?"

You all followed the line of sight from Remus over to his right, where James sat in conversation with Sirius to his own right.

"Potter!" Mary yelled, and the brunette's eyes snapped over in alarm to where she and her pointed look sat on the ground. "You're up."

Brows raised, he sat up straighter in his seat, laughing softly. A horrifying fact struck you as his eyes landed on the bottle before him—no matter where it landed, you didn't think you'd be okay with whatever followed.

Whoever the bottle landed on, you'd have to watch as James kissed a girl right in front of you and act completely unphased by it. Even with all the talks you'd had with him about Lily, you weren't even sure that was something you could do. You told yourself it didn't matter and that it was part of some game. That didn't change the fact that actually watching him with someone else might hurt too much.

James, who was directly across from you, sat completely forward on the couch to reach for the bottle and his eyes met yours through his dark lashes. The sides of his mouth perked up in a boyish grin and you let yours do the same, albeit strained. You didn't like the way you could hear your own heart start to pick up as James's hand neared the bottle.

He focused back on it, fingers winding the cool glass before spinning it. Everything seemed to slow down in the seconds that it slid in circles on the maroon rug beneath it, a dizzying feeling taking over you. It seemed to spin for hours, each pair of eyes in the group plastered to it like it was something hypnotizing. You swore that the second the bottle stilled, so did your heartbeat and all the thoughts in your head.

It was pointing at you. It was pointing at you.

A red-hot feeling of alarm blared in your chest, your thin smile dropping as you swallowed. Nobody had said anything yet, or maybe you just couldn't hear them over the blood rushing through your ears.

You slowly looked up from the bottle that remained aimed straight at you and up to James, who sat directly on the other end of it. He was already watching you.

You couldn't read from his face what he was thinking, but the intensity with which his eyes met yours made something in your chest pinch. The two of you looked at each other wordlessly for a second before James looked away first, looking down and rubbing at his neck. Sirius shook his shoulder.

"The bottle has spoken," he rang mockingly, grin a mile wide as he looked between the both of you. "C'mon you two."

"Yeah," urged Peter, and others started to join in, shouts of agreement and clapping ringing through your ears from all directions. James looked around at everyone besides you, shaking his head.

"There won't be any kissing." He said it like it was something clear, something that should've been known from the start. You watched him, unmoving. You didn't know what to think, lips parted as you sat helplessly on the ground.

A few people booed, disappointment evident. Sirius scoffed, sighing. "Then drink up, mate."

You looked on as James shifted his gaze to the bottle in front of him wordlessly. You knew he didn't dare drink around Quidditch season and that he was leading Gryffindor's first practice on Monday, but he still leaned forward to pick up the bottle. You didn't even recognize what you were doing until you said the words.

"It's okay."

James's eyes snapped up to look at you, actions pausing abruptly. He frowned down at you, brows softly furrowing in confusion. "What?"

"It's okay," you repeated, not knowing what the hell you were doing. You could feel the stares of everyone pricking on your skin. "Don't ... don't drink it."

He retracted his arm away from the bottle again, sitting up. "Are- ... are you sure?"

Absolutely not.

"Yeah."

A beat passed before everyone began cheering again, and you felt like crawling into yourself because you really didn't think this through. Kissing your best friend? That sure was one way to get over him.

You took an unsteady breath in as you sat up onto your heels, eyes set on James expectantly. When he realized you were serious, you watched as he sat up even straighter, a muscle in his jaw working as he peered at you.

He still seemed unbelieving, so you nodded at him assuringly, trying to seem lighthearted while your heart beat heavily. With a note of seriousness, he surveyed you for another second before finally getting out of his seat and nearing where you sat on the ground, sinking to a knee.

The low base of the music seemed to beat in time with your own heart, the sound seeming louder than anything else in the room to you. James's eyes never left yours despite it all, the never-ending glow of his hazel eyes weighing into your own with his gaze that seemed to sink your stomach bottomlessly. Then he got closer, leaning forward hesitantly like you'd fly away with quick movement, a mesmerizing sight.

Did he look at all the girls he kissed like that? How many girls had he kissed? How many girls had been on the other end of that look before? Merlin knows how many wanted to be. You knew people were watching, waiting, but it felt like it was just you and James in a sea of blurred sights and sounds.

A curl of his brushed against your head, soft enough to send a rush through you. Were you really about to do this?

Like he was reading your mind, he whispered, "We don't have to, you know."

You nodded delicately, but steadily. "I know."

His eyes seemed to dance in circles around your face, floating from either of your eyes and then down to your lips. You went still, letting your eyes fan shut at the feeling of his hand softly holding your cheek.

Behind the black cloaks of your eyelids, you couldn't see anything at all, only feel. You sat still, waiting for what you knew was coming, for the feeling of James's lips.

In a second, they brushed against yours, feather-light and hesitant. His fingers grazed over your cheekbone. Sightless, you leaned forward in the darkness like jumping into unknown waters, and it was you who closed the distance.

Your lips met with shyness, the kind that had every inch of you buzzing. His lips were soft, gentle and forgiving, until you felt James lean into the kiss, deepening it like something inside of him was pulling him closer to you, something he couldn't deny. The feeling consumed you and it felt like you were suffocating. Not because of a lack of air but because of the storm of butterflies that seemed to crash through you right away.

You'd expected him to pull away after a second, make the kiss as short as possible. But he didn't; Neither did you.

It struck you like the crash of a wave how much you liked kissing him, how natural it felt. People around you were cheering and whooping and, for a second, it felt like it was the sound of something right, of this thing you'd had for James ending in success. But you knew that wasn't true. It was anything but.

In alarm at just how public the kiss was, you finally pulled away, not knowing how long it had even lasted.

You were breathless, chest rising and sinking rapidly. You took in the sight of James, eyes scanning over his flushed cheeks and slightly swollen lips that had some of your lip gloss on them. It made you dizzy to think that you'd been the one to put it there.

You met his eyes and, like a magnet, the way he seemed to look at you made it feel impossible to move, made all the other sounds in the common room drown away. He swallowed, eyes flickering between both of yours, and you still couldn't tell what he was thinking.

Like coming up for air, you finally looked away from him and let yourself face everyone around you who'd seen it all, watching as your heart seemed to swell for the few seconds that the kiss lasted and then shrivel back up right before their eyes.

They each sported their own looks of both surprise and entertainment, clapping and whistling following the two of you the whole time it took James to sit back down on the couch.

There seemed to be an underlying hesitancy for a moment, like there was more to be said, but it vanished as fast as it came and Mary was calling for the next turn like clockwork.

For a moment it felt as if maybe the whole thing hadn't really happened at all, like it had been something your mind imagined in desperation. But from the way James looked, you knew it had happened.

You glanced up at him again and he was already looking at you. Pathetically, with the little strength you had left in you, you offered him another strained smile. He didn't give one back.

Your heart dropped and it felt like you were sinking. You looked away again, trying to focus on the game as if an earthquake wasn't rattling your brain all the while. You felt James look away from you finally, staring somewhere low towards his hands, maybe the rug, eyes blown wide, expression unrevealing.

You didn't think you could sit there any longer. Had he figured out how you feel about him? Was he trying to think of a way to let you down easily?

You could almost feel both Marlene and Lily's gazes on your face from either side, not helping you feel any less suffocated.

Sirius had taken his turn, kissing a girl in the year below, but you hadn't paid true attention to any of it. By the time Peter was spinning the bottle you felt your legs standing up from beneath you.

Lily stopped you, grabbing your hand as she whispered, "Where are you going?"

"Bathroom," you answered plainly, squeezing her hand reassuringly before letting go of it and leaving the circle of people. You had to push your way through the crowded room to get to the nearest bathroom in the dormitories.

Once you got inside, you walked towards the sink, taking in your appearance. You looked like you'd seen a ghost. Your first instinct was to splash water on your face, wake yourself up from whatever the hell was going on, but stopped yourself, remembering the makeup you were wearing.

It wasn't fair. This wasn't fair.

Maybe it was your own fault for even going through with the kiss, but that was something you blamed on the drink you'd had and the circle of people surrounding you, waiting. You'd thought it would be a peck, something that'd give you a blush that you could hide in the low lighting of the party, nothing more. You'd been doing good—good about not thinking about your feelings for James, that is.

But nothing could have prepared you for what you were feeling now: Confusion, because how could he have kissed you like that if it wouldn't mean anything tomorrow? Frustration with yourself, because you felt your control slipping from your grasp with every breath you took, with the way your lips still simmered from the kiss.

Everything you'd done to protect yourself, to stop yourself from feeling the hurt you'd become accustomed to for years, was becoming useless. The months you spent away in France over the summer trying to forget about James and his warm gaze and stupidly cute smile were being shot down the drain.

It felt so unfair. You were so sure you were losing feelings. It must have been a temporary trick of the mind because, through just a few moments, you felt that pit in your stomach that told you were rapidly falling back down to square one.

You had to pull yourself together and snap out of whatever this was. You knew where this helpless road ended and you weren't going to let one night ruin the rest of your year.

James didn't feel the same about you as you did for him—it was plain and simple. He never had, and he never would.

Not when you were his best friend, his "number one wingman." Not when Lily was around, effortlessly graceful and the sole person who'd had James whipped for years.

With a sting in your heart, you thought back to the moments before the kiss, where James had spun the bottle, probably hoping it would land on the red-haired girl beside you, only for it to land on you. Hell, he was even willing to drink from that mystery bottle if it meant he wouldn't have to kiss you. You thought back to the dream—or nightmare, really—that you'd had that summer, and the way James's words had stung you to the point where you could really feel it, even if it was a dream.

"As if I'd ever see you in that way..."

"...Dating you would be like dating my little sister..."

"...You're not Lily, alright? You never will be."

You probably looked desperate before the kiss, making him feel like he had to kiss you after you so plainly asked him to. You looked the part now, taking in your reflection in the mirror that blurred from your watering eyes.

You wiped them right away, feeling ridiculous. This whole thing was ridiculous. You weren't going to cry in a bathroom during a party over a kiss; you had that much pride.

You took another second to pull yourself together before leaving the bathroom, fighting through the crowd of people again to find that your friends weren't where you left them, but on the other side of the room by the drinks table.

You made your way over to them, frowning. "What happened to Spin the Bottle?"

Marlene, Mary, and Lily all turned towards you in unison, the latter scanning over you like a worried mother. "Are you alright?"

You nodded quickly, dismissive. "Yeah, I'm fine. What happened to the game?" The three of them shared a look before Mary answered you.

"It kinda died down after you and James left."

You paused, looking between them with a concerned frown and dread that you couldn't hide. "James left?" They nodded. "Where did he go?"

Marlene shrugged. "Don't know." Then, she spotted something from behind you, waving a hand. "Hey, Black!" she snapped, and you turned to see Sirius, Remus, and Peter coming down the steps from the boys' dormitories. Sirius noticed her calling and the three of them came over to where you stood.

"What happened to Potter?" Marlene demanded for you. "Where'd he go?"

At the question, Sirius seemed to pause, glancing to the others briefly.

"He was tired," Remus answered for him. "Wanted to get get good sleep for Quidditch practice or something."

Marlene looked between the three of them skeptically, before nodding. "Right," she drawled, and moved to leave, walking between Sirius and Remus. Lily and Mary followed, but you stayed behind.

"Quidditch practice starts on Monday," you said flatly after they left, staring between the three boys who stood shifty before you.

"He said he doesn't feel like partying anymore," said Peter quickly, and the two others turned to him as if he'd spilled some sort of secret. You frowned, worry and confusion evident in your expression.

"Look," said Sirius with a sober tone. "We don't know for sure why he's went off to bed, but you can probably guess."

You stared at him and his serious expression, and realized with a twinge in your chest that you probably could: He was avoiding you.

"Yeah," you agreed lowly, head tipped downwards—you should've never kissed him. But you knew you couldn't take it back now.

You let your eyes wander from the floor to the table of drinks next to you, figuring that maybe a drink could do you some good.

Taking hold of a cup that was already filled amongst the rows of others, against your better judgement, you tipped your head back and drank from it until your throat burned and the cup felt light in your hands. You heard Peter gasp in surprise.

"Hey, woah," Remus chided, taking the cup from your hands. "I don't need every last one of you hungover tomorrow, yeah?"

You squinted at him, whether from the taste of the alcohol or your annoyance you didn't know. "You've been drinking all bloody night."

Sirius laughed from next to you, taking your cup from Remus and finishing whatever little was left. "Moony has a conceringly high alcholol tolerance." Peter nodded in agreement, Remus shrugging as you glared at him.

"Fine," you said, pressing a hand to your temple. The smell of alcohol mixed with the blaring music and whatever you were feeling right then was giving you a headache, and the quiet of your dorm room was starting to sound a little too appeasing. Plus, you had the feeling your mind wouldn't find peace unless you went to sleep

"Maybe I should just go to bed too." You chewed at the inside of your bottom lip. "Tell James I said goodnight when you see him." You didn't miss the way the three of them glanced around at each other concernedly but nodded anyway. "See you guys in the morning."

You waved goodbye to them and made the walk back towards the girls' dorms, finding Marlene and Lily in the crowd and wishing them goodnight too.

In the time it took you to get ready for bed, you decided that tomorrow you were going to move on—seriously move on—from whatever happened tonight, and the past few nights, and maybe the past few years too. You didn't think you had the mental strength to keep worrying, especially not when you'd been trying to stop your mind from replaying your kiss with James in your head for the last thirty minutes.

You crashed down onto your bed, feeling like you carried the weight of the world on your chest but convincing yourself it was only a feather if only to fall asleep for the night. You might've ruined everything, but at least your bed was comfy.

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