#muggle's fanfiction | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

ikkyfics · 10 days ago

Text

Strawberry Kisses

James Potter x f!reader

Summary: "Strawberries as sweet as a first kiss," James read aloud, his tone slightly playful. You smiled, leaning slightly against the table as if you were waiting for the comment that would follow. "Is that true?" he asked. His eyes, shining behind the lenses, were fixed on yours but quickly drifted to your lips. "You’ll have to try to find out," you replied, your voice carrying a soft challenge.

Warnings: muggle!au, fluffy, first kiss, cute flirts

Masterlist

The muffled sound of James’s footsteps on the soft grass was the only thing breaking the tranquility of that golden afternoon. The sun was already beginning to dip on the horizon, casting orange hues over the fields surrounding the village, a place so calm it seemed almost untouched by time. The brick houses, with moss-covered roofs and well-kept gardens, formed a kind of living postcard. It was the kind of place where the seasons dictated the rhythm of life, and now, at the peak of summer, the fresh fruit baskets at the gates of the houses signaled the sweetest time of the year.

James pushed his glasses up on his nose, his gaze fixed on the small table set up near the gate of the house next to his. He knew exactly who would be there even before getting closer, and the thought made a smile appear before he even realized it. You were crouched down, rearranging the baskets of strawberries with a care that seemed almost exaggerated, your quick fingers selecting the most beautiful fruits to place on top. He always noticed these small details about you—how your movements looked graceful even in the simplest tasks, or how you furrowed your brow slightly when you were focused.

James had always had a soft spot for you. An obvious crush, if anyone had asked, but one he pretended to hide behind an easy smile and casual remarks. Your relationship had never gone beyond stolen glances that lasted longer than necessary or playful flirtations that came across as innocent banter. You never backed away—in fact, it seemed you enjoyed the game—but until now, neither of you had taken a step further.

He stopped a few meters from the table, his hands in the pockets of his worn jeans.

"Hi," he said, and you looked up, surprised, but quickly regained your composure. The sunlight illuminated your features in a way that almost made him lose track of the conversation, but he managed to keep his smile intact.

"Hi, James," you replied, your voice carrying that familiar warmth he adored. "Came to buy strawberries?"

"Something like that," he replied, walking over to the table. "Thought I’d support the local business."

You laughed, tilting your head slightly as you stood up. "Really? Because the last time I checked, you weren’t much of a fruit fan."

He shrugged, pretending indifference. "I can change my mind."

You narrowed your eyes, as if trying to figure him out. "Well, strawberries aren’t for everyone. You have to like the sweet and the tangy, you know? Not everyone can handle it."

He smiled, one eyebrow raised. "I can handle more than it seems."

Your smile grew, and James felt his heart race a little. You pointed to one of the baskets. "These are the best. Picked them this morning. Nice and fresh."

He carefully picked one of the fruits, admiring its red hue and natural shine, but it was the small sign next to the baskets that really caught his attention. "Strawberries as sweet as a first kiss," he read aloud, his tone slightly playful.

You smiled, leaning slightly against the table as if you were waiting for the comment that would follow.

"Is that true?" he asked, turning his face toward you. The light tone from before had shifted, taking on something deeper, more serious. His eyes, shining behind the lenses, were fixed on yours but quickly drifted to your lips. It was subtle, almost imperceptible, but you noticed.

"You’ll have to try to find out," you replied, your voice carrying a soft challenge.

He took a step closer, putting the strawberry back in the basket as if the fruit was no longer the most interesting thing there. There was something electric in the space between you now, something that seemed to pulse with its own energy. The golden sun reflected off his glasses, but not enough to hide the way he was looking at you. That gaze held something new, something that wasn’t just playful, and your stomach gave a small leap.

"Is that how it works?" he asked, his voice low, almost husky. "I buy a strawberry and find out?"

You laughed, crossing your arms and tilting your head, but he noticed the slight flush creeping up your cheeks. "Depends. Maybe you’ll need more than one."

He raised an eyebrow, the smile returning to his face, but this time it was softer, more intentional. "And if I don’t just want the strawberry?"

The question hung in the air, and you felt your heart race in a way you couldn’t control. James took another step, and now the space between you was minimal. He lowered his gaze to your lips for a moment, noting how soft they looked, before raising his eyes back to your face.

"Maybe," he said, his voice even lower now, "I just want to know if the comparison is fair."

You couldn’t help but smile. "Well, James, I think that’s a question only you can answer."

Before he could respond, you picked a strawberry from the basket, turning it between your fingers as if considering your next move. James's gaze stayed fixed on yours, attentive to every gesture, but the corner of his lips still carried that smile – half amusement, half something more intense. Without breaking eye contact, you extended the strawberry toward him, holding it gently by the green tip.

"Taste it," you said, the simple word carrying an unspoken subtext that didn’t need any explanation.

James chuckled softly, a sound that seemed to warm the air between you. He tilted his head slightly, as if analyzing the offer, before stepping closer until his fingers were almost touching yours. He didn’t take the strawberry from your hand; instead, he lowered his head, biting into the fruit directly. His lips brushed lightly against your fingers, and the warmth of that unexpected touch made your breath falter.

He chewed slowly, his eyes locked on yours as if he wanted to prolong the moment just to watch your reaction. When he swallowed, he smirked, his voice husky with a playful note that couldn’t completely mask the intensity behind it.

"Sweet," he admitted, nodding with exaggerated approval, as if evaluating something serious. "But..." He let the word hang in the air, a glint of mischief dancing in his blue eyes behind his glasses.

You raised an eyebrow, crossing your arms and slightly tilting your hip to the side. "But what?"

James stepped closer, closing the gap between you even more. The world seemed to stop spinning around you; there was only the muffled sound of crickets in the distance and the warmth of the afternoon wrapping around you like a blanket. His gaze dropped to your mouth, so openly and deliberately that you felt your cheeks burn.

"But I think something's still missing," he murmured, his voice lower now, almost a whisper. "I need a better reference. Only then will I know if that sign’s claim makes sense."

You tried to think of something to reply, but the words seemed to have disappeared entirely. There was something about the way he was so close now, how the golden sunlight reflected off the messy strands of his black hair and made his eyes seem even brighter, that simply took the air from your lungs.

"Oh, really?" you managed to say, your voice softer than you intended.

He nodded slowly, the smile on his face becoming gentler, more genuine. "Only a kiss can tell me if these strawberries are as sweet as they say."

The statement was so simple, so absurdly direct, but said with such sincerity that your heart skipped a beat. You didn’t respond, but you didn’t pull away either. Your eyes met his, and there was something in that look – a mix of expectation, confidence, and an unexpected vulnerability – that made everything around you disappear.

James leaned in, closing the final inches between you. When his lips touched yours, it felt like the entire world took a deep breath and held its air. The kiss was soft, almost hesitant at first, as if he wanted to savor every second, every detail.

His lips had the faint sweet and tangy taste of the strawberry, and the warmth of his touch made your heart race so fast it seemed to echo throughout your body. At first, you hesitated, but soon let yourself be carried away, as if something deep and instinctive was responding to the moment. Your hands, almost without you realizing it, slid to his chest, finding the soft fabric of his shirt as your fingers curled slightly, as if wanting to anchor themselves there.

Your heart felt like a storm – a mix of nervousness and a desire you didn’t know you could feel so intensely. You noticed how he held you so carefully, but at the same time firmly, as if he wanted to make sure you wouldn’t leave. The pressure of his lips, the way he adjusted his movements to match yours, everything seemed absolutely perfect, as if that moment had been written before you even met.

When James pulled away slightly, his face still so close to yours, you couldn’t help it – his name slipped from your lips, soft, almost a whisper. "Jamie..."

He stopped, the smile on his lips growing even brighter, but with something more – something that spoke of surprise and genuine pleasure. The blue of his eyes seemed even brighter now, as if reflecting the sunlight in a way that made you lose yourself for a moment. "Say it again," he murmured, his voice husky but full of tenderness.

You smiled, still breathless, feeling the warmth spread across your face and chest. "Jamie," you repeated, the name coming out almost like a confession.

He laughed softly, that warm sound wrapping around you like a blanket on a cold night. "I could get used to hearing you say my name like that," he teased, his smile taking on a mischievous edge as his eyes dropped to your mouth again.

You shook your head, trying to ignore how much that declaration made your heart tighten in a way so sweet it almost hurt. "You're impossible," you replied, but your voice was full of affection that betrayed any attempt to sound indifferent.

"Impossible?" He raised an eyebrow, his smile widening. "Well, in that case, I think it's my duty to say something equally impossible."

You blinked, confused. "What?"

He tilted his head slightly, his eyes sparkling with a hint of provocation. "That kiss," he began, his voice deliberately slow, "was even sweeter than the strawberries."

Your face immediately flushed, and you tried to protest, your hand lightly swatting his arm. "James!"

"It’s true!" he insisted, laughing as he raised his hands, as if defending himself. But before you could say anything, he lowered one of his hands to hold you by the waist again, pulling you closer.

The second kiss came before you could even finish breathing. He didn’t ask for permission, but the gesture was so natural that you didn’t mind – in fact, you loved it. Your fingers found their way back to his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heart, which seemed to be racing as fast as yours. This kiss was deeper, more assured, as if it were a silent declaration of everything he felt and everything you wanted to feel.

When he pulled away this time, both of you were even more breathless. He looked at you with a smile that mixed satisfaction and tenderness. "Now I’m sure," he said, his eyes dancing in a way that made your legs feel a little weak. "You’re officially sweeter than any strawberry I’ve ever tasted."

You opened your mouth to retort, but you just laughed, shaking your head as your face grew even warmer. "You really can’t stop, can you?"

"Stop?" he repeated, as if the idea were absurdly ridiculous. "When it comes to you? No chance."

He brought one of his hands to your face, his thumb brushing lightly over your cheek, and the gesture was so gentle, so full of affection, that you felt your eyes well up with the intensity of the moment.

"How about we make a deal?" he asked, his playful tone softening slightly.

"What kind of deal?"

"You agree to go out with me," he started, leaning in just enough so that your noses almost touched, "and I promise that, at least once, I’ll try to behave."

You laughed, a light and sincere sound, before nodding slowly, your eyes fixed on his. "I agree."

The smile he gave in response was so dazzling that you had to bite your lip to contain the wave of emotions threatening to overwhelm you.

"Great," he said, stepping back just enough to grab a strawberry from the basket and bite into it with a satisfied smile. "After all," he murmured, winking at you, "we need energy for all the adventures ahead."

And with that, he extended his hand to you, his eyes still shining with that mixture of confidence and sweetness that made you wonder how you’d resisted for so long. When you took his hand, you knew you would never again doubt how sweet life by his side could be.

269 notes · View notes

pretty-little-mind33 · 5 months ago

Text

Ice Hockey James Potter x fem!reader

Summary: You wait for your boyfriend after his game — In the same universe as Suburban Legends

Genre: Fluff <3

Warnings: muggle au, college au, swearing

JAMES POTTER MASTERLIST

You stand in the lobby of the rink, your arms are crossed across your chest and you're cursing yourself for only wearing his jersey instead of something warmer. Still, you smile. How can you mind when you can remember how happy James looked when saw you in the stands?

You pace around, waiting another few minutes until you start to become impatient. All his teammates have left the rink, which is something you know because you've counted each of their high-fives.

You have only been dating James Potter for a month now, but his teammates act like they've already taken you in as one of their own.

"I didn't think you'd wait for me this long." you hear him. His voice is a little hoarse and he's rotating his shoulder around as he grimaces.

"Is your arm okay?" you ask, standing up and meeting him in the middle of the lobby. He was shoved pretty hard into the plexiglass and you look up at him, concerned.

His lips curl into a little smirk, "Worried about me, Y/l/n?" He whispers and leans in close.

"As your girlfriend, I feel like if I wasn't worried then we'd have a problem," you chuckle and roll your eyes at his insistence to continue calling you by your last name. He says it's a habit but you're convinced he just likes to see you flustered.

"Come on I'm starving," you take his hand and try to lead him towards the door.

"Shit," James groans, "I forgot my gloves in the locker room,"

You drop his hand and turn around, crossing your arms. "Are you seriously making me wait for you longer than I already have?"

He shakes his head with a smile, "No. You're coming with me this time." It's his turn to take your hand and he practically pulls you to the locker rooms.

"Jamie, slow down," you say.

Suddenly, you're pressed against the wall of the empty hallway as James's arms cage around your head. His hockey bag had fallen onto the ground and he leans his head downwards so that you can look into his eyes. His eyes shine and he's giving you the most obvious, "I wanna to kiss you," pout.

"What are you doing?" you feign coy behind a laugh as he slides his hands down to the side of your head and cups your cheeks in his hands. He's so close it's incredibly intoxicating.

"Kissing you?"

You smile, nodding, and he leans down to kiss along your neck. His hips press into mine and you think I've finally lost all sensibility. "You drive me insane — you and my fucking jersey," he whispers as his kisses move upwards and his knuckles skim the fabric of his jersey near your breasts.

"You're the one who wanted me have it."

"Yeah, to wear around your dorm—not during my games," he says and his hands climb up the wall again as you look up at him, "If your plan is to distract me when I'm supposed to be paying attention to the game, you should know it's working more than it should…"

You grin and stare at him with wide eyes. You make sure to chew on your lower lip so that you're doing exactly what you know turns him on. "Seems like a misunderstood then," you say, "Still, I didn't think you would have a problem with everyone knowing I'm yours, James."

Something snaps inside him and that's when he kisses you.

It's raw and rough, but the way his strong arms wrap around you waist to pull you closer is gentle and you melt into his arms. Wantonly, you run your hand through his hair. The dark brown locks are slightly messy from being under his helmet and when James feels me pull on them, his breath jumps in his throat,

"Everyone already knows you're mine." He whispers and then continues to kiss you.

You pull him even closer and with his good arm, he wraps one of my legs around his hip. You're both so engrossed in our activity you, unfortunately, don't hear footsteps until, James's coach clears his throat,

James stops kissing you and carefully lowers your leg onto the ground. He hides you behind him as you turn around, his cheeks crimson from embarrassment, as you attempt to calm your internal panic.

"Hey," James says, weirdly casual.

"Rink is closing, Potter. Go home." His coach says and you peek at him from behind James's shoulder. He sees me and sighs, "You too, Y/n."

"Will do, sir." James says. Quickly, he lifts his bag back onto his shoulder and holds your hand. You mumble a small, "sorry" as you walk by his coach but you don't think he hears you considering you can't even bear to look at him.

Once you're back in the lobby, you bury your head in your hands, "I'm so embarrassed," you groan. James laughs and rubs your shoulders.

You look up at him and frown, "This really isn't funny."

"Coach doesn't care. I promise." James reassures you.

"Why? Is this not the first time he's caught you kissing someone here?" you ask, sounding more jealous than intended.

James's expression softens and, holding your hips, he pulls you close enough to kiss your forehead, "How many times to I have to promise you I'm not, and have never been, a player?"

You nod, smiling guiltily, "Yeah, I know. I shouldn't have asked that, I'm sorry."

"Water under the bridge, Y/l/n," James jokes and kisses your temple. He swings his arm around your shoulder, "I remember someone said they were hungry, shall we eat now?"

"Wait, what about your gloves?"

James grins wolfishly. "Oh, those are in my bag, I just wanted to make out with you."

tags: @mischievousmoony, @sayitlikethecheese, @longlivedelusion, @fangirl-swagg (pretending like i didn't just forget this until now!!)

472 notes · View notes

mischievousmoony · 1 month ago

Text

𝚠𝚛𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚙𝚊𝚙𝚎𝚛

⟢ james potter x reader (who is skilled at gift wrapping) ⟢ you and james wrap christmas gifts for your kids last minute ⊹ 1.1k ⟢ warnings/tags: no warnings? lmk if i missed anything

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

The crisp rustle of wrapping paper tears through the air as you unravel a sheet long enough for a rather larger box.

You and your husband, decked in matching holiday pajamas, are sitting on the dark hardwood floor of your bedroom. Surrounding you are various presents that you’re working tirelessly to wrap late this Christmas Eve.

“Why do we do this every year? Scratch that— why do I let you convince me to do this every year?” you suddenly ask when you get a glimpse of the clock on your nightstand.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” James asks on an exhale of airy laughter.

“Oh, nothing,” you hum as you measure out how much paper you’ll need. “Just trying to figure out how I let myself marry a chronic procrastinator. And how I let him be such a bad influence on me.”

James falters, dropping the flaps of snowflake-decorated paper he was about to tape down.

“A chronic procrastinator? A bad influence!?”

You press your lips together to hold back a smile. “Keep wrapping. It’s almost three in the morning,” you say as your scissors satisfyingly glide through the wrapping paper.

“No,” James protests, pushing the gift away from him and crossing his arms petulantly. “Not until we address your little comment.”

“See, you’re procrastinating right now by trying to start a debate about whether or not you have a problem,” you tease, your lips involuntarily turning up at the corners.

“It sounds like you want to finish the wrapping by yourself,” he jokes, but you both know he’d never leave you hanging.

“Oh, come on,” you laugh. “If we had it my way the presents would have been wrapped ages ago. They would’ve been wrapped the moment we brought them home.”

“Why would we wrap one present at a time when we could wait and wrap them all at once?”

“Only a chronic procrastinator would ask why we should get ahead on our tasks.”

James knows you’ve got him there, so all he can do is huff. “Stop saying procrastinate it doesn’t sound like a word anymore.”

“Alright, slacker,” you say through a grin.

James rolls his eyes dramatically as he repositions himself from sitting up to lying on his side. “I’m not a slacker,” he says, propping his head up on his elbow, “I just want to be efficient.”

Your eyebrows shoot up as James denies his tendency for putting off his tasks as he gets comfortable in front of a half-wrapped present.

“Yeah, real efficient,” you say as you carefully fold the paper at the corners, creating perfect trapezoids on the sides of the box, which you tape down with a small square of sellotape.

He takes notice of the look you gave him, and provides an excuse. “I’m just taking a break.”

“This is the definition of slacking, by the way. C’mon we’re going to be dead tired tomorrow.”

“We’ll be fine, it’s only 3 a.m.,” James says as if it’s barely midnight. Regardless, he pushes himself back into a seated position and finishes taping down the paper over the box that holds a new toy truck for you son.

“Last Christmas the kids were jumping in our beds by seven,” you say, very matter-of-factly.

“If they’re awake that early I’ll corral them to the kitchen and make a big breakfast with them to give you an extra hour,” he promises as he reaches for a new roll of wrapping paper— a dark green one with cartoon reindeers printed all over.

“You need sleep too.”

James shrugs. “Well, it was my fault we procrastinated wrapping these anyway.”

“Oh? So you admit it now?”

“What can I say? Is it so bad that after we put the kids down and I was all alone with my beautiful wife I’d rather cuddle or catch up on our shows or… other things.” A smirk tugs at the corner of his mouth.

“Other things?” you snort.

“Yeah. Wanna do them right now?” he asks, wiggling his eyebrows at you.

“James!” you scold him as a blush heats your face.

“Sorry, sorry. I’ll focus.” He reaches for the slowly dwindling pile of presents and picks one that looks easy to wrap. You both prefer to leave the more complicated ones to you, as you always seem to have some unique way to wrap the strangest shapes.

“Not that one!” you stop him. “That one’s from Santa, you have to use the shiny red paper and the golden bows.”

“What? I picked this one,” he says, turning over the box of a new doll for your daughter. “I don’t want to give Santa all the credit!” James pouts.

“And you’ll get it. In about ten years, give or take, when we tell them it was all a lie in the name of Christmas spirit.”

James laughs and takes a look at the clock that reads 3:16 a.m. Santa can have this one, James decides. Even if he did continue to protest, you would probably convince him in the end.

For the next twenty minutes, you two get lost in the rhythm of wrapping. With James handling the simple boxes, and you expertly finishing the oddly shaped ones, folding the paper in ways that obscure the gift’s silhouette while adding an elegant touch.

You know your kids won’t give the wrapping a second thought, and it will all end up torn into bits on the floor, but you just love the way they all look under the tree. So perfectly arranged and beautifully wrapped, it makes Christmas feel all the more special.

As you straighten out a bow made from hand curled ribbons on the top of a dollhouse, pre-assembled for play tomorrow morning, James hisses and drops the paper he’s working with. You look up at him as he brings his finger up to his lips.

“Ow, ow!”

“Y’alright?” you ask.

“I’ve been injured! Wounded! No one told me how hazardous gift wrapping would be!” he wails dramatically, cradling his right hand with his left.

You laugh at the sight of him, gathering that he has probably gotten a paper cut. Shuffling over to him on your knees, you outstretch your hand. “Let me see.”

He puts his hand in yours and you turn it over to inspect his pointer finger. It takes you half a minute to find the small slice in the top layer of skin. It’s nearly impossible to see, and you’re sure the pain has subsided now. Still, you bring his hand to your lips and press a soft kiss over the small cut.

“Better?” you mumble against his skin.

“Almost. I think I have another injury right here.”

You look up at him through your eyelashes to find him tapping his lips, puckered and awaiting a kiss.

You shake your head at his antics but oblige him anyway and connect your lips in a gentle kiss. James’ right hand snakes out of your grip so he can wrap it around your waist to hold you into the kiss for a little longer.

“Come on,” you say as you begin to pull away, “we only have a few more presents between us and those fresh homemade cookies laying out for Santa.”

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

368 notes · View notes

cardansriddle · 1 year ago

Text

Sugar - (tom riddle x fem!muggle!reader)

Summary: Perhaps it was an accident. Or perhaps the fates were mocking him. He had not meant to venture into the little coffee shop and he had most definitely not meant to return. But he kept coming back and the waitress kept putting sugar packets near his coffee every damn time.

Warnings: Tom gets possessive halfway through so it's pretty tame for him. not proofread. oh also self-indulgent crime & punishment debate (got a lil carried away).

A/N: 5.5k words but it's kinda mehh. to the person who requested this, i hope you enjoy it at least a little <3

⋆⋅☼⋅⋆

Tom felt as if he was a solitary figure in a world hushed by the winter's harsh embrace. With each step he took away from the desolate building of grey against the pristine canvas of winter, he felt lighter. He did not cast a look back towards the orphanage looming behind him, instead focused on the sound of the snow crunching beneath his feet as they led him further into the dark street cloaked in a thick layer of snow.

The wizard knew if he spent another moment in that cursed place he would have lashed out and killed someone, so he had hastily thrown his coat and emerald scarf around himself before slamming the door shut behind him.

Two more years. He thought to himself. Then he would be out and would never be obligated to return again. Perhaps he would even burn the place to the ground if his plans worked out in his favour.

The air was crisp, and his breath materialized in front of him with each exhale. His eyes quickly scanned the narrow empty alley for a suitable quiet place where he could pass his time. There was nothing interesting, except for the tiny bookstore nestled in the corner of the street that emitted a warm, golden light through its window. Tom quickly decided it would do, and he strode towards the place with purpose. A small bell chimed as he entered the place, which he quickly realised was a bookstore with a cosy coffee shop tucked inside.

He inhaled the pleasant aroma of freshly brewed coffee mixed with the scent of weathered books. Before he could lose himself entirely in the intoxicating symphony of scents, a sudden, loud thud echoed from behind the counter, jolting him from his reverie.

"Blimey!" someone cursed, their voice slicing through the tranquillity. Tom found himself rooted to the spot, curiosity piqued, as a figure suddenly emerged from underneath the counter.

It was a girl. Unabashedly, his eyes traced the lines of her features, noting the delicate curve of her jaw and the cascade of hair that framed her face. He assumed she was around his age if not younger and he stared at the girl as she rubbed her head, wincing when she hit a particularly soft spot before she realised that she was not alone in the shop. She froze like a deer caught in the headlights and he watched as her cheeks flushed a deep shade of red.

Tom, still an observer, saw more than just the blush; he discerned the subtleties of her response, the way her eyes momentarily widened before seeking refuge elsewhere, fingers fidgeting with the edges of her knitted cardigan.

She attempted to compose herself and met his eyes. "Oh! Sorry, sir. How may I assist you?" She asked cheerfully, resisting the urge to duck her head down to avoid his intense stare.

He crossed the small distance to the counter. "I'd like a coffee. Black."

"No sugar?" she inquired, to which Tom raised a single brow. Her blush deepened as she quickly averted her eyes from his face.

"Right, of course. You may take a seat while I prepare this for you." With a nod, she hurried to fulfil his request, leaving Tom alone with the lingering scent of coffee and old books that were now intertwined with a pleasant smell of vanilla and sweet—

It was her perfume, he realised with a start.

He hastily removed his coat and scarf before plopping down on the nearest armchair. His gaze remained fixed on the girl, absorbed in the rhythm of her practised motions as she prepared his drink, her movements seemingly both effortless and comforting. There was an almost lazy grace to her actions and he continued to watch as she sang under her breath so softly if he had not been staring so intensely, he would not have picked up on it.

He wondered how he had never noticed this place before. He had been passing through this little street for as long as he could remember but for some reason, he had only stumbled upon it today. His sharp eyes darted around, instinctively searching for traces of magic, half-expecting the discovery of a hidden passage to the wizarding world but he quickly realised the place was undeniably, disappointingly muggle.

Muggle.

He tore his gaze away from the girl at the mental reminder of what she was. He fished out a book from his bag and opened it to occupy his mind.

The subtle shuffle of her approaching steps drew his attention back to the present, and he met her gaze as she placed the steaming cup of coffee before him. A sugar packet sat innocently beside it. His eyes lingered on the packet for a moment before lifting coldly to meet hers.

She, however, was undeterred by the intensity of his glare. “In case you change your mind.” She smiled at him softly before turning on her heel and walking back.

His gaze lingered on her retreating figure, and then, almost involuntarily, it dropped to the innocuous sugar packet.

⋆⋅☼⋅⋆

Tom did not know why he had returned. Truthfully, he had not even noticed his feet had led him here until he was in front of the familiar wooden door that led into the coffee shop. Perhaps he had thought more than he should’ve about the disgustingly soft smile of that girl for the last five months. She was an insolent muggle, yet here he was, walking into the place as if he had never left.

The seasons had blurred since he had last been here. Winter had long surrendered to the warmth of summer. He had to spend at least a month in the orphanage, and he was hoping Malfoy would invite him over for the rest of the summer.

The place was just as he remembered it. The only difference was the lack of Christmas decorations. He faltered only slightly when he took notice of the girl behind the counter, already staring at him. She had not changed much. Her face was the same, less pale perhaps, but the same, nonetheless. The oversized knitted sweater that once enveloped her had been replaced by a little white sundress, and his gaze involuntarily lingered on the exposed smooth skin.

“Welcome back!” She greeted him cheerfully, and he was not surprised she remembered him. “What can I get you?”

“Black coffee,” he replied curtly

She nodded as if she was expecting it. "Coming right up." Gently shutting her book, she gracefully moved towards the coffee machine. Tom's eyes couldn't help but trail to the volume she had been reading, and to his pleasant surprise, it was Dostoyevsky. He had not pegged her as someone who would enjoy Russian literature, with its weighty and morally morbid themes. In his mind, she seemed more likely to be a Jane Austen enthusiast, with her intricately written romances and flowery prose.

“It’s 'Crime and Punishment'." He suddenly heard her soft voice declare, and he looked away from the book to give his attention to the girl. Then feeling as if she had said something silly, she blushed and looked away quickly. "Though I'm sure you figured that. I just wondered why you look so surprised."

He replied before he could tell himself not to. "I did not imagine you as someone who would enjoy this."

Emboldened at his words, she turned to face him, a hand casually resting on her hip as she sported a cheeky smile. "Am I to presume you imagine me often?"

His sharp inhale was audible as he absorbed the unexpected shift in her demeanour. He had not expected this shy, timid girl to tease him so boldly. She was a little vixen.

But he did not give her the satisfaction of getting a reaction out of him. A lazy raise of his brow was the extent of his acknowledgement before his gaze wandered towards the rows of bookshelves, feigning indifference. "Do you have another copy? Perhaps I shall like to reread this evening."

She frowned, walking over towards the table he had occupied last time to set his coffee down. He grimly took notice of the sugar packet placed near it. "I'm afraid not. But you can have mine."

"No, that is quite alri—" He began to decline but she had already crossed the small distance between them and was holding out the thick book. He hesitated for a moment before his fingers closed around the object, careful to avoid touching hers.

The girl smiled and walked away before he could even say thanks. Not like he was going to.

Settling back into the soft armchair, he opened the book only to freeze at the sight of a name scribbled on the front page and he knew it belonged to her. The wizard rolled the name around in his mind and determined that it suited her. He stared at her name for a minute longer before turning the page and delving into the content of the book.

He had been so immersed in the story that he had not noticed how the time had passed. The gradual hush of the coffee shop's ambient sounds finally penetrated his concentration, and he distinctly heard the girl approaching him.

"I'm sorry to disturb you but we're closing in five minutes." She looked at the book in his hands. "You may return it once you're done."

He hummed and looked down at where he had stopped.

"We sometimes encounter people, even perfect strangers, who begin to interest us at first sight, somehow suddenly, all at once, before a word has been spoken."

He wondered if the universe was trying to tell him something.

Tom found himself caught in the silent narrative of this stranger's presence.

⋆⋅☼⋅⋆

He returned the next day.

She looked up to see him enter, the sleeves of his button-up shirt rolled up.

Tom placed the book on the counter.

"You finished it in one day?"

He shrugged. "I'm a fast reader."

She gave him a small smile, turning to make his black coffee before he could ask for it. "Every time I reread it it takes me a few days." She paused for a moment, turning to look at him over her shoulder. "The usual?"

He nodded. "The usual." He debated whether or not to voice his next question, and decided one conversation with the girl would not hurt.

"Why do you read it so often?"

"Each time I find new details that make Raskolnikov's character more complex. Each time I discover these small little things I missed the last time I read it becomes so much better. Plus I enjoy his moral dilemma."

He hummed, his curiosity piqued. He took his usual seat and watched as she brought his coffee and set it down in front of him. "Enlighten me." He gestured towards the seat in front of him. She hesitated only for a second before taking a seat.

"Raskolnikov is obviously a complex character. His actions are driven by a desire for power and superiority, a belief that he is exempt from conventional morality. However, one could argue that his internal struggles and eventual remorse suggest a more nuanced exploration of morality."

Tom furrowed his brows. "I see him as a product of his environment, a desperate man driven to extremes by the harsh circumstances he faced. His morality shifts to the other side of the spectrum."

She cocked her head to the side, and he could see her getting slightly frustrated. "But morality is not just a spectrum; it's a complex interplay of values, societal norms, and personal convictions. Raskolnikov's guilt stems from the clash between his actions and the intrinsic moral compass within him. It's the consequence of recognizing the weight of one's choices."

He scoffed before he could stop himself. "Morality is subjective. What is right for one may not be right for another. Raskolnikov was weak and he was an idiot. Guilt is a useless emotion and it is for the weak."

Her expression remained unwavering. "But perhaps it's that recognition of guilt that separates the morally discerning from those who lack empathy. The fact that you can't comprehend his guilt doesn't make it foolish. It makes it human."

Tom's eyes narrowed a glint of impatience in his gaze. "Human or not, guilt is a hindrance. It's a sentiment for those too feeble to rise above their actions. If I were to make a difficult choice, I would do it without hesitation, without remorse."

He only realised the slip of his tongue after the words left his mouth. He stilled, gauging her reaction yet her response was measured but firm. "Raskolnikov's guilt is a testament to his humanity, his ability to grapple with the consequences of his choices. It's what sets him apart from those who operate without remorse."

"But—"

"So what you're saying is you would kill and feel no remorse?" She cut him off.

Yes.

"You do not understand." He did not intend his tone to be so harsh, yet the words left his mouth coldly. She visibly withdrew and nodded stiffly. "Right. Enjoy your coffee."

He opened his mouth to say something but realised for the first time in his life he did not know what to say.

He was left staring at the cursed sugar packet she had left near his coffee again.

⋆⋅☼⋅⋆

He did not return the next day. Nor the day after. Or after.

⋆⋅☼⋅⋆

Two weeks passed with no sign of him.

And then she saw him step into the coffee shop. He walked in with determination. He walked up to the counter, meeting her gaze with an intensity that mirrored the unspoken tension between them. "I'd like a black coffee," he said, his tone even, though a hint of something lingered beneath the surface.

She nodded, her expression composed but guarded. As she prepared the coffee, the air seemed charged with unspoken words. Her usual cheerful smile was notably absent. The absence struck him, and he realised he had enjoyed her smiles.

When she placed the coffee in front of him, there was a palpable pause. He glanced at the sugar packet, a subtle acknowledgement of the lingering disagreement. Without a word, he took it, his eyes meeting hers briefly before he poured the sugar into his coffee.

She looked at him, her gaze unwavering, before a small, almost imperceptible smile tugged at the corner of her lips.

⋆⋅☼⋅⋆

He returned the next day. And the day after that. And for the rest of summer.

⋆⋅☼⋅⋆

The next time he stepped into the familiar place, winter had covered the city with a snowy blanket once again. It had been a year since he first discovered this little place. And he had not seen his little waiter since he left for Hogwarts in September.

When he walked in, her eyes lit up visibly. "Hi!" She waved at him with a bright grin.

"Hello." He greeted as he unwrapped his scarf and settled in his usual seat. In a matter of minutes, she was bringing him his usual order. She was back to wearing her warm knitted sweaters. "How did you enjoy the book?"

"Oscar Wilde never disappoints," he said. She hummed in agreement, pleased at his words. He watched as her hands dropped to fidget with the bottom of her sweater. "You wish to ask me something." He stated. "Ask."

"Do you study in a boarding school?"

Tom hesitated only for a moment before replying. "Yes."

"Oh. Well, that explains the months of not showing up."

"Were you expecting me?" He teased her with an amused smirk, taking delight in the way her cheeks reddened.

"I was just wondering that is all," she admitted, a hint of curiosity peeking through. Tom observed her, noting the return of the timid, shy girl from their first encounter. It amused him how a few teasing remarks could momentarily whisk away her fiery boldness. He couldn't help but wonder what it would take to awaken it once again.

"And do you wonder about me often, little vixen?" he added, a playful glint in his eyes.

She blushed harder at the nickname but then as if a thought had struck her, she straightened and Tom watched as she visibly mustered up her courage. "I actually was wondering your name."

He bristled, but she must have not noticed because she continued. "I suppose I have not given you mine either." She mused out loud and announced her name to him. "But I thought it bizarre that considering all the time we've talked we never got around to that. Friends who do not each other's names." The girl laughed at the last notion and only then she realised that Tom had remained unnervingly quiet throughout the exchange. She raised her eyes from the frayed edges of her sweater, and the sight almost made her take a step back. His eyes had darkened, and she could have sworn she saw them flash red. There was no warmth, no familiarity in his gaze.

"Are you alright?"

Suddenly, he rose from his seat, an ominous tension permeating the air as he advanced towards her with every word. "We are not friends. You dare to think I would be friends with the likes of you?" His words were sharper than the keenest of blades, cutting into her with merciless precision. "Foolish, little girl," He spat out before grabbing his things and storming out of the place. As the door closed behind him, the little coffee shop seemed to exhale, the echoes of his harsh words lingering in the hushed aftermath.

She stood frozen in her place, helpless against the storm of emotions and the tears that began to veil her vision.

⋆⋅☼⋅⋆

Tom fumed for months after their last encounter. How dare the ignorant muggle insinuate that they were friends? He scarcely considered his Knights of Walpurgis as his friends, and she thought she would just appoint herself the title? Who did she think she was?

"Mate, you alright? You've been unresponsive for a while." Malfoy nudged him slightly, attempting to draw his attention back to the present.

Tom made a noise of acknowledgement before mentally shaking the image of his little waiter— no, not his, he berated himself— from his mind.

But no matter how he tried, he could not. He could not just banish her from his thoughts. He knew a part of him, a rather embarrassingly large part of him enjoyed her company, her passion, her conversations— just her.

And there, tucked away in the recesses of his trunk, lay her damned book— a taunting reminder of her. The temptation to burn it, to obliterate any remnants of her from his life, danced on the edge of his thoughts. He had shoved away, out of sight if only just to save himself the fury, the anger, (the longing).

He wondered if she was going through the same turmoil as him. He hoped she was. She had no right to make him feel this way and get away with it unscathed.

But she was too enticing to give up. He did not know what it was about her. She was a muggle, an ordinary, plain girl working at a forgotten little cafe. Sure, she liked books, but so did a lot of other people. Yes, she was pretty, but so were a lot of other girls. But none could even come close to stirring his emotions as she did.

Perhaps it was the ease with which she conversed with him. Or the entirely too cheery smiles. Or her endearing knitted sweaters— though he secretly favoured the sundresses.

He, of course, knew what it was. He had tried to deny the idea to himself, but there was no escaping it. Tom had never been able to be unequivocally authentic with another individual before. From his early childhood, he refused to allow anyone close to him. He never lowered his walls and rejected anything that would yield a genuine connection. It was refreshing with her. He had no cause to uphold a curated facade.

Had she not been a muggle, he would entertain the thought of her bewitching him. He would have been convinced the girl put some spell on him or slipped a potion into his drink.

It was maddening.

She was maddening.

He sighed upon realising that he had spiralled again thinking of her. He needed to return the book, and maybe that would ease his mind. Perhaps once he was rid of her possession, she would not haunt him anymore. (Though he knew he was only trying to reassure himself with the last thought.)

As summer loomed around the corner, it felt both too distant and too imminent, mirroring the paradox of his tangled emotions.

⋆⋅☼⋅⋆

The sound of her laugh rang out before he could even close the door behind him. His head snapped up so fast it was a wonder he did not get whiplash. But there she was, his little waiter, chuckling delightfully as some boy spoke lowly from behind the counter. Chuckles escaped her lips, and she bit down on her lip in a futile attempt to stifle the laughter, her hands deftly at work preparing a drink. Despite her efforts, laughter bubbled forth once more, forcing her to set the cup down to avoid any potential spills.

An immediate surge of anger coursed through him. Who was this boy? What business did have with her? What right did he have to elicit such genuine laughter from her? (Most importantly, how dare she replace him?)

Tom swallowed the lump in his throat, attempting to gather himself into some semblance of a composed, unaffected man that he most definitely was not at that moment. With a loud, purposeful cough, he sought to catch her attention.

She spun around, the practised smile reserved for customers settling onto her face as she readied herself to serve him. However, the smile swiftly vanished the moment her doe-like eyes locked onto him. She looked like a deer caught in headlights as she stared at him, wide eyes roving over his face as if to confirm that he was really standing there, in front of her, and was not a figment of her imagination.

Because despite their last encounter, despite the anger, and the hurt she had felt, she kept hoping he would return. She kept imagining him standing there, with his ridiculously fancy scarf as he spewed out an apology. She had delved so deep into her fantasies involving him that now that he was actually there, she did not what to do or to say. Her tongue was tied, and her brain was fogged. What was she supposed to say?

It seemed he decided to grant her mercy and be the first to break the tense silence.

“Hello.”

“Hi.”

He shuffled closer, though his steps were unsure, unlike his usual confident strides that she was used to seeing. “I wished to return your book.” He declared yet made no move to reach into his bag for the said book. He allowed his eyes to drink in the sight of her, her eyes that always seemed to glisten, her hands that were always fidgeting, her little sundress that he was afraid would drive him to insanity, (and her lips that he wished he could press against his own just so he could find out what they felt like, tasted like.) He shoved the last one into a drawer in his mind and locked it away. He could not fantasise about her. She was a muggle. He could not stoop so low as to hold affections for a muggle girl.

“Did you enjoy it?” The girl asked tentatively as if afraid one wrong word would set him off, have him spitting more harsh words that would dig deep into her skin and remain there.

“As always.” He replied. Because every book she gave him held another meaning. She was a clever girl, choosing the ones that she knew would have him coming back with a strong debate prepared in his mind. They always seemed to stand on opposite sides of every argument that the books posed, ensuring that their discussion would get heated, exciting, and thrilling.

While Tom vehemently disagreed with her views, he found pleasure in the way her mind worked. He admired her quick-wittedness, her ability to counter every argument he posed. No one else had engaged him in such stimulating conversations. She was a breath of fresh air, a captivating force he wanted to inhale and never release. He yearned to suffocate in the essence of her being, to be consumed and to consume in return. He wanted to own her— that irrational desire to keep her for himself was always there in the deeper parts of his mind that he was scared to venture into.

“I’m glad you enjoyed it.” She responded but he could detect the subtle undercurrent of uncertainty in her voice.

He hesitated. “May I have one black coffee?” He was extending an olive branch, and while it was not an outright apology, coming from Tom, it was a whole declaration.

“It’s five minutes until closing time.”

She would not be swayed so easily then.

Fine. Tom thought. He would make her come to her senses.

The boy who he had forgotten was still there suddenly came to stand next to him. Tom eyed him with disdain, his features curling into an unimpressed sneer, raising a lazy brow.

“I’ll help her close up, mate. You can leave now.”

“Daniel, that is not necessary.” She muttered, glancing between the two men nervously. Daniel? Tom clenched his jaw, enraged. In his absence, it seemed she had gotten on first-name basis with a boy. His mouth soured with the taste of betrayal at her blatant ignorance. How could she discard him so easily? Had she not suffered all these months at the mere thought of him? Had he been alone in his suffering?

“No,” Tom stated flatly. “You will leave.” He told the boy then turned to face his waiter. “We will talk.”

“Tom, I do not think—”

He cut her off with a hiss. “It was not a request.”

Daniel seemed wholly displeased. He opened his mouth to argue, but his girl beat him to it. “It’s okay, Daniel. I will see you some other time.”

“Whatever he has to tell you, surely he can say in front of me.”

She shook her head gently, trying to dissuade him. “It’s a matter between him and I. I would rather talk privately.”

Tom looked smug as he faced Daniel again, struggling to contain his smirk. He could see the indignation clear on the boy’s face as his eyes flickered dubiously between her and Tom. He knew the wizard was no ordinary acquaintance of her, he could feel the palpable tension in the air like a wolf.

Tom, of course, wished to push his buttons further, just to have the last word. “You heard her. Leave.”

Daniel scoffed. “I will see you tomorrow then.” He muttered and with one last long look, he squared his shoulders and left the café with as much dignity as his wounded pride could muster.

As the door shut with a final thud, they were left in pregnant silence, both unsure of the dynamics at play between them. The air in the café hung heavy with unspoken tension as if the silence itself had taken on a weight, pressing down on them both. The ticking of the clock on the wall seemed louder than usual, each second echoing in the quiet space.

She was the first to cave. "Well? You wished to talk." Gesturing towards him with a hand expectantly. "Talk."

Tom inhaled sharply, and for the first time in his life, he did not quite know what to say. How to proceed.

"Who is he?" The question tumbled from his lips before he could stop it.

She raised a brow. "Seriously? After how you walked out of here last time I would think your choice of words would be different."

"Different? I hardly think the question was unfair."

She huffed impatiently, discarding her apron as she turned from him to put everything away for the night. "Of course. How foolish of me to assume that you have no business inquiring about my life when we are not even friends." She chuckled bitterly. "You made the notion quite appalling if memory serves me right. You wish to know who is Daniel? For all you know, he could be my fiancee. Would it matter? No. Because you and I are hardly acquaintances."

An unfamiliar feeling began coiling in the pit of his stomach, and he suddenly felt sick. She briefly turned to fix him with a pointed glare and froze at the look on his face. The dancing flames of the candles seemed to mirror the flickering emotions in Tom's eyes—flames of irritation, discontent, and an unexpected pang of jealousy.

Tom could scarcely believe his fate. How was it that he— the most powerful wizard of his generation— had succumbed to the pathetic disease of— what was it? Desire? Lust? Infatuation? Such mundane urges were beneath him, he had no wish to pursue anyone or anything that was not remotely related to his quest for power. Yet there she was. In her infuriating fucking dress and those innocent eyes. Did she even know what sort of turmoil she had caused him?

All of a sudden he felt exhausted, defeated. His shoulders sunk visibly as he ran a hand through his hair. He would use a hundred of her sugar packets in his coffee if it meant she would just grace him with her bubbly smile again and just— just what? Leave him be? He did not want that. Treat him as if nothing had happened? Maybe. Release him from whatever enchantment she put him under? Yes.

"What do you want from me?" He asked at last, frustration clear in his voice.

She regarded him with disbelief as she rounded the counter to stand directly in front of him. "What do I want from you?" She repeated incredulously. "I want an apology! I want an explanation! I want—" she sighed, cutting herself off before she could finish the thought. "You cannot just show up here demanding things and ordering people around after how you treated me last time. If you wish to continue this conversation, you will apologise to me."

"You want me to say sorry?" He took a step towards her.

"Yes!"

"Fuck your apology."

Before she could register what was happening, Tom closed the minute distance between them and caved into his desire. He grabbed her face, fingers threading through her hair, and pressed his lips against hers. The kiss was not gentle; it was a collision of pent-up tension and bottled-up desires.

Tom's lips moved fervently against hers, pouring his frustration into the act. It was a silent declaration that transcended the boundaries of his complicated inner turmoil. Tom knew that. But he could not pull away from her— not after having tasted how her lips feel like.

Her hands, which had hovered hesitantly in the space between them, found their way to his shoulders, fingers gripping the fabric of his coat, pulling him closer.

She felt—tasted like God's favourite nectar, sweet and addictive and he knew he would never get enough of it. She might not have been a witch, but he was bewitched by her.

As they broke apart, breathless, the air between them hung heavy with the residue of their shared kiss. He dared not to ease his hold on her, only stared at her with darkened eyes, taking delight in the way her lips were bruised, and puffy, all because of him. But it was not enough. He needed to mark her for all to see.

He dove into the tender skin of her throat like a man starved, teeth sinking into her flesh with no warning, and a sick sort of satisfaction washed over him at the muffled moan that escaped her mouth. He sucked on the skin until he was sure there would be a purple mark blooming on the spot before running his tongue over the flesh to soothe the sting. He did not waste any second before moving to mark another spot.

"I do not even know your name." She managed to choke out in between her whimpers, hands moving of their own accord to tangle in his hair, and a particular tug had him growling deep in his throat.

"Tom." He whispered, pulling away from her neck only to return his lips to hers. "Say it. Say my name." He murmured in between the kisses, pushing her back until her back was pressed against the counter. He easily picked her up to place her on the surface, his fingers trailing along her thighs to her knees to nudge them apart so he could stand in between them.

"Tom." She breathed out in a daze, and he smirked in delight.

She was his. He had already branded her, and he would do much more to ensure she knew it was him she belonged to.

He leaned to brush his lips against the shell of her ear. "I hope you know there is no going back from this. From me." He whispered, fingers slipping under the strap of her dress and dragging it down her shoulder slowly. "You are my dirty little secret now. Mine."

She shuddered under the weight of his words but he was already snaking his hand around her throat as his lips found home on her own once again.

No going back.

⋆⋅☼⋅⋆

taglist: @faerienotfound @orangepact77 @on-ya @a-mj-a @darkmoviesquotespizza @444s0ul @amarisout @daechgustinad @lillywise-the-dancingclown69 @eceamaizmirbosislermuduru @narwhal-swimmingintheocean @turnip-milk @kammsinn @ratsys @linosluna @lizzieolseniskinda @mypurplewinee @riya12044 @multiplefandomstan @thicbucchi @daisydark @an222shka @pennyllanne (let me know if i forgot to add you)

let me know if you wish to be added/removed from my taglist!

#tom riddle #tom riddle fanfiction #tom riddle one shot #tom riddle x reader #tom riddle imagine #tom riddle x y/n #tom marvolo riddle #tom riddle fanfic #tom riddle fic #tom riddle x muggle!reader #tom riddle x fem!reader #tom riddle x you

2K notes · View notes

unconventional-lawnchair · 3 months ago

Text

Stray {Blurb}

Postwar!Remus Lupin x Muggle!Reader

Summery: After drifting aimlessly and struggling with the aftermath of war, Remus finds an unexpected ally in a compassionate woman who sees beyond his scars. Through her unwavering kindness and the simple life, Remus maybe he deserves the similar things in life.

Wc:3860

Cw: Use of {Y/N}, fem reader, self doubt, mentions of major character death, financial insecurity, drifting, self indulgent.

Remus Lupin never really believed in rock bottom. Everytime he thought he'd hit it he would fall harder and deeper than he ever thought possible.

After the war there was a long period of time he was drifting. Not necessarily liking the idea of staying in one place too long, not that he could if he tried. Most of the highlands were packed with nosey wizards and witches, his paranoia getting the best of him every time someone asked a bit too many questions, and then it was on to the next town.

It didn't help that no one was enthusiastic about hiring him after learning of his special requirements. He couldn't hold down a job let alone a stable place to stay, staying in the rougher bits of London and Scotland, too busy wallowing in grief to truly feel sorry for his situation.

His full moons were the worst of it. Without James, Peter, and Sirius, Moony reverted back to its most volatile form. His mental state didn't help much either. He had grown comfortable, complacent, with the nurture his friends provided him those nights. So much so he forgot what it was like to have battered and bruised skin. What the scars on his body felt like.

Everything was back to his normal.

Well, not everything. This was the first time he's woken up to the sight of a gun barrel in his face. His body throbbing and his leg caught in a snare. If he looked just past the barrel, he could see glimmering eyes. Fear. He was used to that look.

Though, he could argue he should be the fearful one, considering his lack of dress and immobile position. Bleeding and scared, with a women he's never seen before saying something his ringing ears couldn't quite comprehend.

Soon, his blood loss and blurry eyes made him unable to stay awake. The last thing he saw was a large white dog coming up to sniff his face.

~~~

It was soft, everywhere he turned. Like he was being held in a cloud, he was sure she must have shot him.

When his eyes opened he was greeted with a dim room. It was small, a cream off white with floral designs, it looked like his mother’s, truthfully. He tried to shift his leg only to notice a sizable weight, looking down to see a large white cattle dog, he couldn't quite place the breed immediately, but the moment he shifted it seemed to wake up. Staring at him in his very soul.

The large beast gave a low and steady grumble before he gave a few barks, something he didn't quite know how to place. He just sunk back into the soft plush bedding, giving a low sigh. “Bloody hell..” He mumbled and closed his eyes.

He was still in pain, a lot of it, and he could feel the throb of his injuries pulsing through his body. But there was also a strange sense of comfort in the softness of the bed and the warmth of the room. Even the soft smell of Shea butter and thick wool. It had been so long since he had felt anything remotely close to comfort that it almost seemed foreign to him. He almost convinced himself to fall right back asleep, screw the consequences.

The dog continued to bark, and soon after, Remus heard the soft patter of footsteps approaching. His instincts kicked in, and he tried to sit up, but his body protested vehemently. Leaving him to prop pathetically on his elbows.

As the door creaked open, he came to the conclusion that he was most certainly dead. And he guessed the muggles were right about God. Why else in Merlin’s name would an angel be stepping into this room? With a tray of food, no less.

Like that, the barking stopped. The dog satisfied he notified his master in time.

The woman who had been holding the gun stood in the doorway, looking significantly less threatening now. She had a cautious yet gentle expression, her eyes scanning Remus with a mix of curiosity and concern. Retracing his now bandaged chest and bruised skin, clicking her tongue before she walked over. Setting the tray down and picking up two pill bottles from the side of the bed.

"You're awake.” She assessed softly, her voice carrying a lilting accent that Remus recognized to be Scottish. "I wasn't sure if you'd make it through the night.”

Remus tried to respond, but his throat was dry and his voice came out as a weak croak. She poured a glass of water from the tray and handed it to him, with three pills in her palm.

He didn't think twice before he took them, his concern for his life had far since left his mind. He just felt.. safe.

As the cool water soothed his parched throat, Remus couldn't help but wonder who this woman was and why she was helping him. He hadn't known genuine kindness from anyone since he entered the war- everyone was a suspect until proven otherwise. He glanced around the room, taking in the subtle details- the worn but clean furniture, the soft light filtering through the curtains, and the faint smell of herbs mingling with the scent of the shea butter that he could now conclude came from you.

"Thank you.” He managed to say, his voice still weak but sincere. "For... everything."

The woman gave a small smile, though it didn't quite reach her eyes. "You're welcome. My name is {Y/N}." She hesitated for a moment before adding, "You're lucky I found you when I did. The Highlands aren't exactly the safest place for someone to be..” She gestured vaguely. “What were you up to? Naked forest dancing?”

Remus let out a weak, humorless chuckle at your comment. Despite the situation, he couldn't help but appreciate your attempt to lighten the mood. His muscles protested every small movement, but he managed to shift slightly, trying to get more comfortable.

"Something like that. I'm Remus.” He muttered, his voice still hoarse. He didn't dare dream of expressing the full length of his woes; the full moon, the transformation, the uncontrollable rage and pain. It was too much to burden you with, not to mention the rapid fire excuses he'd have to come up with. Still, he still felt horrid for lying, especially to someone as kind as you.

You seemed to sense his reluctance and didn't press further. Instead, you busied herself with adjusting the pillows behind his back, making sure he was as comfortable as possible. "Well, whatever it was, you're safe now.” You muttered gently. "You need rest and time to heal. Those pills should help with the pain and prevent any infection."

Remus nodded, grateful for your understanding. "Thank you, {Y/N}.” He repeated, feeling a warmth spread through him that had nothing to do with the cozy room or the medication. "I don't know how to repay you for this."

You waved off his gratitude with a dismissive huff before walking over to set up the simple bowl of oatmeal and apple slices you had managed in the kitchen.

“Seriously, I don't have much but-”

“Your money's no good here, I fear.” You remarked calmly and turned to face him as you handed him the bowl carefully, wrapped in an oven mitt so he wouldn't burn himself. “But your body is.”

Remus blinked, taken aback by the statement. He opened his mouth to respond, but you quickly clarified, sensing his alarm.

"Not in that way.” You quickly corrected with a soft laugh, the first sign of genuine amusement he'd seen from you. "I meant, it's coming up on winter. Once you get better, if you'd like to repay me, there are holes in the barn that need to be patched. There is wood to be collected, there is always work.”

Relief washed over him, and he nodded slowly, understanding the exchange you were offering. That was something he could do. Easily. "I can do that.” His voice was still weak but filled with sincerity. "I'm more than willing to help out."

You smiled, this time a bit more genuinely. "Good. We'll worry about that when you're back on your feet. For now, just focus on getting better." You placed the bowl of oatmeal and apple slices on his lap. "Eat up, you'll need your strength."

Remus took the bowl, feeling a deep sense of,, peace. It had been so long since anyone had shown him patience and kindness this real. He spooned some of the oatmeal into his mouth, savoring the warmth and simple flavor. It was raw. Something unfiltered and unprocessed. You had made these from scratch, while it wasn't impressive, it made the gesture all the more real to him.

As he ate, you busied yourself around the room, tidying up and making sure everything was in order. The large white dog, now lying by the foot of the bed, watched him with curious eyes.

"What’s his name?" Remus asked, nodding towards the dog.

"That's Hugo.” You hummed, a fond smile tugging at your lips. "He's a good boy. A fine worker, too. Found him as a pup wandering near the woods. Much like you, I suppose."

Remus chuckled softly, though it hurt his chest a bit. "Well, I'm glad he found his way to you. And I'm glad I did too."

You paused for a moment, looking at him with a studying looking in your eyes. "We all need a bit of help sometimes.” You said quietly. "No shame in that."

Remus nodded, feeling a lump form in his throat. For the first time in a long while, he felt a glimmer of hope. The care you had shown him was a balm to his weary soul, and he couldn't help but feel that perhaps, just maybe, things could get better from here.

As he finished his meal, he felt a wave of exhaustion washing over him again. The combination of the medication and the warm food was making it difficult to keep his eyes open. You seemed to notice and gently took the empty bowl from his hands.

"You should rest.” You said softly, but stern, placing the bowl back on the tray. "Sleep will help you heal faster."

Remus nodded, unable to argue with common sense. As he settled back into the pillows, he felt the soft weight of Hugo shifting in a commando crawl up to his side, offering him a sense of security and companionship. His heavy head resting on his chest.

"Thank you, {Y/N}, Hugo.” He murmured one last time, his voice trailing off as sleep began to claim him.

You watched as his eyes closed, a small smile playing on your lips. "You're welcome, Remus," you whispered, turning to leave the room. "Rest well."

As Remus drifted off into a deep, healing sleep, he couldn't help but feel that maybe, just maybe, he had found a place where he could finally stop destroying himself and start rebuilding.

~~~

The days turned into weeks, and Remus slowly but surely regained his strength. Each day, he marveled at the patience and empathy you and Hugo showed him. It was a simple life, far removed from the chaos and pain of his past, but it was exactly what he needed.

You never pried into his past, never asked questions, never pushed past what you needed to know in the moment. You hardly even acknowledged the night he showed up on your property. Instead, you offered gentle conversation, warm meals, and a quiet companionship that Remus found deeply comforting. In return, he began to help around the property as he had promised. Fixing the holes in the barn, chopping wood for the winter, and tending to any task you needed of him.

It was symbiotic. You got the help you needed, and he felt like he was contributing to something meaningful without the threat of being chased away.

As the weeks turned into a month, the next full moon loomed. Even as his irritation grew and his stomach sank with dread, you never said a word. You filled his plate, kept him busy with work on your land, and didn't question him when he took a stroll into the woods on the night of the full moon. Though you were a bit baffled when Hugo went with him.

That morning, you were on the porch waiting for him. You said nothing about his tattered clothes and suitcase, just welcomed him home with a warm smile.

It was more than he ever thought he'd deserve. You reminded him of nectar in the mornings and like fine wine most nights. As sweet as honey but as deep and rich as the most ancient oak, your presence grounded him in ways he hadn't thought possible. Each day with you was a melody, a harmony that soothed the tempest within him. He found himself looking forward to your soft laughter, the way your eyes sparkled with unspoken thoughts, and the gentle touch of your hand as you handed him a steaming cup of tea.

Your kindness wasn't just a balm for his physical wounds; it seeped into the deepest recesses of his heart, mending the fractures that years of pain and loss had wrought. He couldn't pinpoint the exact moment it happened, but somewhere between your shared meals and quiet evenings by the fireplace, he realized he was falling in love with you.

It wasn't a whirlwind or a blaze; it was a slow, steady burn that warmed him from the inside out. He cherished the simplicity of your life together, the unspoken understanding that passed between you, and the way Hugo seemed to understand it all, lying at your feet as if guarding this fragile, precious thing you were building together.

In those quiet moments, when the world outside seemed a distant memory, Remus realized he had found something he never thought possible: a home, a sanctuary, and he didn't dare hope for more.

Even as you sat on the small couch, in the simple living room. Knees tucked to your chest as you continued to fight with yourself.

“Writer's block?” He prodded as he walked over, sitting down in front of you. Your eyes flickered up to his, your expression still holding slight irritation. “You've been looking at that page for ages.”

“I have ideas.” You argued, looking back down at your pages with a huff. “Just not sure.. how to work them together.”

“Isn't that supposed to be the fun part?” He teased softly and that earned a playful glare form you. He flicked his hands up in defense, slowly smirking.

You managed a soft laugh, your irritation melting away under his gentle look. "Easy for you to say, you're not the one staring at a blank page.” You challenged, but there was no real bite to your words.

Remus leaned closer, peering at your notes with genuine curiosity. "Maybe you should write something else. Just for today. Heard it's supposed to help, yeah?”

You sighed, but there was a hint of a smile on your lips. "Alright, Mr. Lupin, what do you suggest I write about?"

“Maybe your affinity for strays?” He teased and that earned a belly laugh from you.

“Do you hear him, Hugo? He just called you a stray.” You smirked and Hugo gave a huff and a long sigh from were he laid on the floor by Remus’s feet.

“I meant the both of us, really.” He muttered, eyes drifting away. But he knew you knew that already. You would do anything to make him think he wasn't burdening you, but self doubt was his biggest flaw.

Your eyes softened that way that made him feel his stomach turn. Then, your lips turned upward, eyes sparking with amusement. “You make it sound like a talent.” You hummed before you leaned in a bit. “But I wouldn't call you a stray, Remus. You're no more a stray then Hugo.”

Remus felt his mouth go dry as he stared down at you, his heart pounding with an intensity that made his ribs feel bruised. The way your eyes seemed to look straight through him, seeing every hidden part of his soul, left him feeling exposed, yet desperate for the intimacy of it all. The air between you crackled with a palpable tension, each second stretching out as his expression turned thoughtful.

He watched as you slowly reached out, your fingers trembling slightly as they brushed against his arm. The contact sent a shiver down his spine, and he couldn't help but lean into your touch, his breath hitching.

“I mean it, Remus.” You whispered, your voice barely audible but the loudest thing he's ever heard.

He swallowed hard, his eyes never leaving yours as he nodded, inching closer. The space between you seemed to shrink and expand all at once, his movements hesitant yet driven by an undeniable force he couldn't fully understand.

“Yeah?” He whispered, his voice raw and almost pleading, his vulnerability never felt more purposeful.

“Yeah.” You affirmed without a moment's hesitation, your grip on his arm tightening as if to anchor him to your reality. A reality he wanted to understand more then anything. Your gentle loving reality, one that fooled him again and again into safeties he didn't think he deserved. “You're home, Remus.”

The words hung in the air, a lifeline he desperately needed. The tension between you reached a breaking point as you tilted your head. Every so slightly, your eyes lingering on his lips.

It wasn't long before his lips were on yours, not giving himself time to second guess it all. It was patient. It was sweet. It was ancient and timeless and yet as new as the flowers that were blooming just outside the door. Winter had come and gone and yet here he was, still demanding more of you. As he moved in closer, you felt the book fall against the ground. Not that you minded, it freed up your hands to slide along his chest.

He continued to test the waters, his hand coming up to cup your cheek and deepen the kiss. Affection you reciprocated easily. Just as hungry for it as he was. He couldn't find himself wondering if he should think it through. He didn't have much of a choice, the way your hands traveled up to his hair, the way you shifted your legs to make room for him.

“You're home, Remus.” You whispered again, much softer, in between the ever heating kisses. He pushed you fully on your back, his lips traveling the bare skin of your neck. His breath was warm against your skin, each kiss igniting a fire that spread through your veins. The words you had spoken echoed in his mind, grounding him in the moment, making everything feel more real and more impossible to resist. He whispered your name, a reverent prayer, as his hands explored the contours of your body, committing every inch to memory.

Your fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer, as if afraid he might disappear if you let go. The urgency of your kisses matched his own, a silent agreement that this was right were you both belonged.

~~~

The next morning, you woke up in your bed. Remus was hugging you from behind, his nose buried in your neck and still sound asleep.

The morning light filtered softly through the curtains, casting a gentle glow over the room. You felt the warmth of Remus's body against yours, his steady breathing a comforting rhythm that lulled you into a delightful peace. For a moment, you simply lay there, savoring the feeling of being so intimately connected to someone who had come to mean so much to you. Your heart ached with affection, selfishly hoping he'd wake up so you could stare into his lovely eyes again.

You shifted slightly, careful not to wake him despite yourself, and turned to gaze at his sleeping face. There was a peaceful calm there that you hadn't seen before, a loveliness that spoke of a man who had finally found a measure of peace. It made your heart swell with a mixture of love and protectiveness.

As if sensing your gaze, Remus stirred, his eyes slowly fluttering open. When he saw you looking at him, a soft smile curved his lips, and he tightened his hold on you, pulling you closer. Your eyes indulged in his own like it was sin.

"Good morning.” He murmured, his voice still thick with sleep.

"Good morning.” You whispered, your own smile mirroring his. "Did you sleep well?"

"Better than I have in years.” He admitted, his eyes searching yours for any sign of regret or hesitation. Finding none, he leaned in to press a gentle kiss to your forehead. "Thank you, {Y/N}."

"For what?" You asked, absolutely melting as he continued to trail kisses from your temple to your neck.

"For everything.” He sighed, his eyes filled with a depth of emotion that took your breath away. "For giving me a place to heal, for your patience, and for... well, for last night." He cheeked.

Your cheeks flushed at the memory of the previous night, but you couldn't help but smile, playfully glaring at him. "I should be the one thanking you, Remus. You've brought something into my life that I didn't even realize I was missing."

He looked at you with a mixture of surprise and gratitude, his fingers gently tracing the contours of your face. "I'm not easy.” He whispered.

“I've always been one for a challenge, Remus.” You whispered as he leaned down to bury his face into your neck. “Unfortunately, I find falling for you quite easy.”

He chuckled, the base in his voice bringing a shiver to your spine. “... I'm a lot of work.”

“You earn your keep, Remus.” You whispered softly and he slowly began to let his hands slip up to your waist, lowering himself to draw lazy kisses along your chest.

“You'll tire of me. When you know me.” He urged and you closed your eyes blissfully.

“Wouldn't dream of it.”

“You'll-” Before he could finish and fall deeper into his own self doubt, you covered his mouth. Cupping his jaw to pull him into another kiss. One he returned with full earnestness.

You broke the kiss and stared up at him with your doe eyes he almost caved.

“I'll love you, Remus. I do. I will. I'm not going to give up that easily,” You huffed. “No matter how much convincing you try to do.”

He stared at you a moment longer, leaning in and running his lips along yours. “It's rotten work.”

“I've never shied away from work.” You whispered and pulled him close. Letting him hide away from the world in your room. “I'm never going to shy away from you.”

Remus sighed deeply, the weight of his doubts lifting as he whispered, "Then I'll never let you go."

And in that shared promise, they found a peace that neither had ever dared to hope for.

272 notes · View notes

sophie-hatter-jenkins · 3 months ago

Note

Can u pls recommend ur favorite hinny muggle AUs?

I most certainly can! I am an absolute sucker for a Muggle AU, here are some of the ones I love the most:

Your first stop should absolutely be everything written by the fabulous @ginnyw-potter. She has so many fantastic Hinny Muggle AUs. My absolute favourite is Spilt Blood, but you really can't go wrong!

@starlingflight also has so many wonderful Hinny stories, amongst them the recent and excellent I heart ?, plus her ongoing WIP Bewitched, which might not technically entirely meet your brief, but is just so good I couldn't not mention it.

BrightlyBound should be on the must-read list for any Hinny stan, and for Muggle AUs, my favourites are everything i am is yours and About That Night

I absolutely adore text fics, and if you do too, you will love Heliophile by @seriouslysam8.

Sticking with text fics, try Come Stay for the Summer by @ashotofogdensoldfirewhiskey, which is one that I come back to again and again.

Scoring extra marks for bonus Jily Lives content is the fantastic sports AU ecchymosis by @gryffindormischief, who also co-authored the truly epic Kindle along with fightfortherightsofhouseelves.

One I discovered fairly recently is blind-date-with-a-twist fic Altered by betterthanfirewhisky

And finally - no Hinny rec list, Muggle or Magical, is complete without persist and resist the temptation to ask you by @nuatthebeach, which I have recced before, and I will rec again. It's just fabulous.

Fellow Hinny lovers! What have a missed? Please reblog with your Muggle AU recs!

#hinny #harry potter #ginny weasley #harry x ginny #harry potter fanfiction #muggle au #fic recs #asked and answered

148 notes · View notes

justagirlwholikesadam · 1 year ago

Text

Best Friend's Little Sister

Remus Lupin x Muggle! Evans! Reader

Summary: Lily Evans takes the Marauders to her muggle sister's football game where she is captain of the cheerleading squad.

Warning: The Marauders and Lily not understanding football. Sirius and James want lockers in Hogwarts. SFW, drinking, smoking, OC

A/N: I know nothing of sports or cheering so please be warn if there's a mistake. In HS, I was the one smoking pot under the bleachers lol. please like or comment below. Enjoy - L || Border Credit: @cafekitsune

Word Count: 7.4K

Unlike Petunia, you were proud of Lily. Never making her feel bad for being different. Lily had lost count on how many times you have told her that she is special to be a witch and she should be proud of it. Hundreds, perhaps thousands of letters have been exchanged between Lily and you when she started Hogwarts. You would ask her about her time in Hogwarts, asking her about how her classes were and her friends. Lily did the same, asking you how life is back home and about your wellbeing. Today Lily received a letter and she was so excited to read it since you told her last week about trying out for a new position in the cheer team at your school. Quickly, opening it she had drawn the attention of the boys around her who were talking and laughing about a prank they recently did. James looks over at Lily when she lets out a gasp and covers her mouth. Lily felt James’ place a hand on her back. He asked her if she's alright.

The boys stopped talking and looked at Lily who gave James a bright smile and nodded. “Yes, it’s my sister. She told me she was made captain and is so excited. She wanted me to go to the last game of the term. She wrote here that I can invite you guys. If you are up for it.”

Lily gave James a picture you had sent along with the letter. Sirius and Peter quickly went over to James and looked over his shoulders. Sirius let out a whistle while Peter's eyes grew wide. The photo was a regular muggle photo of you.

“Evans, where have you been hiding this lovely girl!?” Lily rolled her eyes at Sirius then took the photo from James.

“Don't even think about it!” Lily said before handling it to Remus who remained in his seat in front of Lily.

He grabbed the photo and noticed why Sirius whistled. Remus had met you before, Lily had introduced you to him. He always visited Lily whenever they were on break. Remus knew you were very different from Lily’s older sister. Petunia always gave him a harsh look and would shut the door on his face whenever he came over.

“Don’t be a daft cow.” He hears you behind the door before opening it.

“Rem Rem.” You shouted as you hugged him. Remus always smiles at the nickname and hugs you back.

“She’s captain of what?” Peter asked walking back to his seat to continue on with his breakfast.

“She’s captain of the cheerleading team at her school. She has been wanting that spot for so long.” Lily said with a proud smile.

Remus continued to stare at the photo. His eyes looking at every detail, oh how he wished the photo could move. You had a red and gold uniform with black lining on the hem. Your hair was in a ponytail and he saw the glitter around your eyes, making them pop out even more. You looked beautiful, he says to himself. You had two big red pom-poms in each hand. The smile on your face was big and it reminded him of the smiles you always gave him.

“That’s exciting.” James commented as Lily took out the tickets from the envelope.

“If you guys are up for it.” Lily said, waving the tickets in her hands. Sirius and James looked at each other with a grin, any chance they got to see the muggle world, they took it. Peter nodded before letting them know he would have to ask his parents first.

“Moony?” Sirius said, placing an arm over his friend’s shoulder. Remus looks away from the picture and nods at Lily.

The Marauders stood in front of the school as Lily thanked her dad for giving them a ride.

“It’s a bit small.” Peter commented. “Well, it’s not a castle.” Sirius said, looking at the school. They jumped when a group of guys came walking beside them. James’ eyes widened when he saw they were shirtless with red and gold paint over their chest including their faces.

“Are we safe here?” Peter asked them and Lily came behind them. “Of course, it’s a high school football game.”

“Think of how fans are for quidditch. They are the same for football.” Remus told Peter and gave him a pat on his shoulder.

“What’s football?” Sirius asked, putting his hands in the pockets of his leather jacket. Lily glanced over at Remus who shrugged his shoulders.

“Like quidditch but running.” Lily said not really knowing how to explain it better. Walking up to the front of the school Lily soon realized she didn't know where she was going. She hasn't been to a public school in years.

“Are you Lily?” The Marauders looked over at a tall boy with blonde hair and he wore a red and gold cheer uniform just like the one you wore in the picture.

“Who’s asking?” James said, stepping in front of Lily. James puffed his chest out trying to intimidate the boy who was taller than him. Lily rolled her eyes at James and pushed him behind her before greeting the boy. The boy gave them a smile and shook her hand, ignoring the small dramatic gasp from James and Sirius.

“I’m Chris, I'm in the squad. Your sister wanted to make sure you guys won’t get lost. Follow me.” Chris told them as he opened the front door of the school for them. He explained to them, it's easier to go this way so they wouldn't have to wait in line. Remus thanked him as Peter and Sirius looked at Chris with a shady look but soon it went away when they noticed the inside of the school. As they walked they looked inside the classrooms and looked at the papers stapled in the bulletin board.

“Wow.” Sirius said as they walked down the hallway.

“James! Sirius!” Lily called out when she noticed they were not following her. Remus looked over his shoulder and frowned when he saw James and Sirius in front of a wall of lockers.

“What's this contraception?” Sirius said, knocking on the red locker. James twisted the lock and pointed at the numbers.

“It’s a locker.” Remus told them and Peter walked over to look at it. James and Sirius look over at Remus with a curious look. “What is it for?”

Remus fought the urge to laugh. James, Sirius and Peter were pureblood, they had no idea what this was. Pushing James and Sirius back to follow Lily, he answered them. “It’s where students put their coats, books and bags while they attend classes. They use the lock to put their code to open it and lock it so nobody steals their belongings.”

“We should ask Dumbledore for lockers!” Sirius said with a nod thinking how cool it will be to have one. He always forgets his books in his room.

“Where do you guys go to school, again?” They froze when Chris asked them. Lily looks over at them with a stern face before dropping it to answer Chris.

“I’m sure, my sister told you. We go to a boarding school.” Lily said. Remus nods at the tall boy.

“We have dorms so we don't use lockers.” He added convincing Chris who looked over at Peter who was twisting the lock of a nearby locker.

“She probably did.” Chris said, shaking his head. “You guys want to see mine?” Chris asked, pointing over his shoulder at the lockers.

“Yes!” James and Sirius shouted and quickly followed Chris with Peter behind them. After 10 minutes of Chris showing them how to open a locker, they finally made it to the football field after providing the tickets to Chris. Remus stayed in the back making sure all the guys were following Lily. The stands were filled with people and students already. Chris waved bye at them and told them he’ll let you know they are here.

“It’s like a quidditch field.” James said as he looked around excited. Remus sat next to Lily as James sat on the other side with Peter. Sirius sat next to Remus in the middle of the stand getting a good view at the field.

“I haven't seen her in so long.” Lily said as she got comfortable on the metal bleachers. “Has your older sister seen her cheer before?” James asked and Lily shook her. “Petunia says cheering is for sluts.”

“I swear, Evans, your older sister hates everything.” Peter said, making her nod.

“She does but at least Y/n doesn't hate me.” Lily said with a soft tone as she stared at the field. Remus hooks Lily’s arm around with his and James snuggles close to her grabbing a hold of her hand. They knew about Lily's family and how her oldest sister always made her out to be a freak. The Marauders were happy she had you for a sister.

The game started and The Marauders jumped at the sound of the horn playing through the intercom. The people around them stood up and shouted, waving and pumping their arms in the air.

“They look so huge.” Peter shouted as the football team came running out of the field pumping their arms in the air, exciting the crowd even more.

“Oh my! She’s there.” Lily shouted standing up as the crowd hollered at the sight of cheerleaders running out. Remus stood up as well and watched a few girls do a flip as they ran in front of the bleachers.

Sirius smirks to see his tall lanky friend staring at the cheerleaders knowing who he was trying to find. Remus told Sirius on their way to Lily’s town after they left Hogwarts for break. Sirius found Remus shaving his face in the bathroom of the train.

“Oi! Who are you trying to impress, mate?” Sirius asked as he went inside the bathroom and shut the door. Sirius couldn't help but laugh at Remus who was trying to come up with a lie. Remus couldn't lie to Sirius for shit. That’s when Remus told Sirius he had a crush on you and wanted to look good for you.

“Is this why you never go out with the girls at school? And is this why, every time Lily gets a letter you get so happy when you find out it’s from her? Have you tried anything with her yet?” Remus turns red in the face and looks away from his friend. He gets nervous and Sirius can see his hand holding the razor shakes.

Sirius lets out a sigh when Remus didn’t say anything. He tells Remus to sit his ass down on the toilet seat so he can help him shave. Pushing his legs apart, Sirius gets to work and shaves the other side of Remus’ face.

“I’m just gonna say this once mate because you’re my best friend and I love you so much but you can be thick sometimes.” Remus tenses up as Sirius wipes the excess shaving cream off his cheekbone with a paper towel.

Sirius continues, “You should tell her how you feel. I’m hoping you’re not letting Moony get in between her and you because I’m pretty sure she will understand just like Lily did and if her sister is anything like her, she would love you and Moony just like we do."

“She is like Lily. Kind and smart. Dare I say more beautiful than her.” Remus said without a second thought to Sirius.

“Don’t say that in front of James.” Sirius warned jokily before heading back to his seat.

Sirius grabbed Remus by the hand when he noticed everyone sat down when the cheerleaders started to get in their position in front of the bleachers. Remus was pulled down forcibly and was about to snap at Sirius when he leaned against him and pointed ahead. Remus followed his hand and saw you walking in the front of the group. Remus hears Lily squeal beside him at the sight of you. His cheeks grew pink at the sight of you. You had a red skirt showing your legs off, Remus felt his mouth go dry at the sight of your bare thighs and legs. The sleeveless top you had on had the school logo printed on it and you wore a red long sleeve shirt it. It was tight and short showing just a bit of the skin of your stomach. Your hair is in a ponytail tied in a red scrunchie.

“I think I'm in love.” Peter said as the cheerleaders started to dance, his eyes stared at a blonde who stood next to you. James laughed, bumping his shoulder at his friend as they watched the show.

Remus saw you raising your hands in the air above your head and shouting the school name before clapping three times. It wasn't the sound of the music playing or the people around him cheering that had him mesmerized but it was the way you move your hips along with the rest of the girls to the beat of the song.

“LETS GO BABY!!” Remus hears a guy scream from the top of the bleacher as they continue to cheer.

Remus watched as Chris came behind you as the girls walked towards the rest of the guys. You came in front of Chris and he turned you around and lifted you in the air. The crowd went wild as the rest of the girls did the same. They began to clap when you turned to the side and grab your leg with both hands pulling the foot behind your head holding the position all while Chris held you up in the air. Remus grew worry when he saw you were going to come down but Chris caught you with ease, it was part of the show.

“How did they do that without magic?” Sirius asked, looking at Lily when the game began to start. Remus was too busy looking at you to listen to Lily's answer. He noticed you were talking and laughing with the team as the players started the game. Peter and James were watching in awe as the players tackled the other team pushing them to the ground with a harsh force. Lily and Remus were looking at the players running back and forth not understanding anything, they wince when one of the players tackled one while holding the ball. Half way through the game Sirius had his head against Remus’ shoulder as he took a nap with a half empty bucket of popcorn on his lap, he begged Lily to buy it for him since they don’t accept galleons.

The horn rang out loud again making Sirius yelp as he woke up spilling his popcorn on the floor.

“Did she win?” He asked in a sleepy tone to Remus, making him chuckle. “She is not the one playing, Padfoot.” James answered as the game went into halftime.

“Who’s winning?” Lily looked at the giant screen showing the count. “This school is.”

“Yay! It means she is winning.” Sirius said, picking up the bucket from the ground with Remus’ help. James and Peter were dancing around when a catchy song started to play through the intercom. Remus watched ahead at you as the girls started to shout out phrases making the crowd cheer.

“LET’S GO! LET’S GO! WE ARE THE BEST! WE CAN'T BE BEAT!”

Remus saw your eyes widen when you saw Lily. You waved at her as you continued to shout. Lily let out a squeal as she waved back at you. You were doing the usual routine, clapping your hands and turning around to shake your hips when you saw your sister. Your heart grew at the sight of your sister, she came to see you. You missed her so much. Looking to her left, your mouth dropped when you saw him. It was Remus Lupin, your sister’s best friend who you had a crush on since you were little. Quickly closing your mouth you continued with the routine but didn’t look away from him. Remus gave you a smile and you gave him one as well. You met Remus when Lily got back home after her first year in Hogwarts. He was tall for his age and nervous. He had scars on his face and you noticed he had it on his arms as well. You didn't ask him about it, you just told him if he wanted to play in the backyard. As the years passed the three of you would play around and walk around town. He always came to visit every year. Remus has always been kind and treated you respectfully. Giving you his cozy sweater or cardigan whenever you were cold or he would grab something from the top shelf for you when you couldn’t. He would let you grab a hold of his arm when walking around town knowing he walked faster since he had long legs.

You didn't know when the feelings for Remus began. You think you always liked him and the moment you realize when you really did was when Remus noticed one of your shoes had become untied while taking him to the bookstore as Lily stayed home with her parents helping them get started with dinner. He told you to lean against the nearest building and you obey. He knelt down in front of you on one leg and helped you place your foot on his knee. You couldn't help but tense up when you felt his hand on your leg. His long fingers work on your shoe laces; he looks up at you when he's done. He gives you a smile making your cheeks flare up.

“Thanks Rem Rem.” You said removing your foot from his knee. Remus doesn't move from his spot when you get closer to him. He’s too busy looking at you to notice your hand coming up to his face. He feels your fingers run through his sandy curls, something you were dying to do when he began to grow his hair out.

Before both of you could say anything, someone had cleared their throat and stood in front of them. “Excuse me.”

The older woman with a cart passed by , walking down the side walk ignoring Remus and your apologies.

That was two summers ago. You couldn't see Remus' last break since you went to cheer camp. You had written to Lily asking about him and how he was doing. You wanted to write to him. You really did but you were nervous he wouldn’t reply back. You wonder if he had a girlfriend. You didn't ask Lily about it, you were far too embarrassed. You didn't think he would ever want to be with a “Muggle.” Lily told you the term when she told you about Hogwarts and her magic. You continued to hold your stare at Remus. You couldn't look away, he looked so handsome. Lily notices your smile and your blushing face, she looks over at Remus who had a smile on his face.

“You were so eye fucking him.” One of your friends said after the routine was done and the football players started to head back to the field.

“No, I wasn’t.” You said turning around looking seriously at the field. The rest of the girls giggled before one spoke. “He got a lot of scars on his face.”

“He was in an accident.” You lied to them before looking over at your shoulder at your sister and her friends. You have only met Remus but you've heard of the rest and known their names. Your sister had told you about Remus and his wolf problem. You didn't believe it at first but you knew Lily wasn’t the type to make shit up. You were okay with it, Remus never changed, he was still the nice guy you knew and you came to term that the guy you liked became a werewolf once in a full moon. You were glad, Remus had his friends helping him during those times. You never told Remus you knew, not even that day when he so kindly knelt down to tie your shoe or when he gifted you a book.

“The guy next to him with long dark hair is pretty cute.” You just smiled at the girls gushed at your sister's friend. Lily and the Marauders stood by the parking lot of the school waiting for you to come out. James noticed how nervous Lily was as she kept looking for you over the mass of people.

“She’ll be here, dear.” James said, rubbing Lily’s back as they waited for you.

“Yeah, Lils.” Sirius said getting near her. He looks over at Remus who was looking for you as well.

“Oi! There she is.” Peter shouted out and pointed at the exit of the school. Remus watched as you walked out with a duffel bag, hanging on your shoulder as you spoke with someone. Remus smile dropped when he saw it was one of the football players. He wore a jersey with the number 6 and had his own bag over his broad shoulder. Remus can't help but notice how the player looked. The guy was taller then him, had muscles and another thing that made Remus' heart sink was the guy had no scars on his face.

He wouldn't be surprised to find out that he was your boyfriend. Cheerleaders go out with football players, that's the normal thing, Remus thought.

Lily yells your name as she waved her hands in the air. Remus saw you quickly look at them and placed a hand on the guy’s arm before running towards Lily. Remus couldn't help but smile as you threw your bag at the ground and hugged Lily. Shoving his hands in the pocket of his cardigan, he looks over at the sisters embracing each other.

“I missed you so much.” You cried in Lily’s neck. “Me too.” Lily said, pulling away to kiss your cheek.

“I brought the boys.” Lily said, looking over at her shoulder. Remus saw you smile bright at the sight of him.

“REM REM.” You called out, speed walking to Remus. Sirius and James shared a look when you wrapped your arms around Remus’ body. Remus did the same hugging you by the shoulders with both arms. Remus couldn't help but run his fingers through your hair as you looked up at him. You had taken the scrunchie out, he noticed you wore it on your wrist.

You gave Sirius and Peter a hug, greeting them. Lily introduced you to James and you immediately frowned.

“Should I kick your ass now or later?” James' mouth dropped out and was about to say something when Lily and you started to burst out in laughter.

“She told me you were a little shit.” Sirius and Peter laughed.

“How can you say that about me, Lils?” James said with a gasp not understanding it was a joke. You knew about James Potter and knew your sister liked him before she even realized it herself. You have read pages of Lily, telling you about James Potter. She wrote how ridiculous and rude he was but at the end of the letters Lily always wrote that James' hair looked cute.

“She was joking, dear.” You nodded at him as Lily gave him a kiss on his cheek.

“That's right. I'm just joking. She said far worse things.” You said making Lily shout your name. “I’m joking.” You told him before looking over at Sirius, Peter and Remus shaking your head making them laugh.

“My brother in law isn’t a little shit.” You said as you hugged James who grew red like Lily’s hair when you called him brother in law.

“Keep messing with him, Y/n. He’ll turn you into a toad.” Lily said, making you gasp then looked at James.

“Can you really do that?! Can you make me into a tiger instead?” You asked frantically as you looked at James who laughed at your enthusiasm.

“Oh my god, can you turn this guy’s hair red for me?” You asked James. “Remember, we have rules. We can’t use magic outside of the school grounds.” You sighed at her.

“That’s so dumb.” You said as Sirius walked towards you. He placed an arm over your shoulder and agreed with you.

“Wait for next year. We got you. What color tiger do you want to be?” Sirius asked, wiggling his eyebrows at you. Remus watched as you smiled at Sirius before tapping your chin as you thought of an answer. You were about to answer when he heard your name being called out.

Remus watched as the same football player came running towards you. Sirius noticed Remus’ face and tugged you closer to him. He wasn’t going to let some beefy guy with a helmet who runs over people for fun get a hold of his best friend’s girl.

“Lincoln is throwing a house party to celebrate our win. Are you coming?” You looked over at Lily and looked back at him.

“Can my sisters and her friends come too?” He quickly nodded as a green jeep drove up by them.

“Yo! Evans! Are you coming to the party?!” The driver asks you. “Yeah! She is going to bring some people.” The football player told the driver.

“You guys want to come?” You turned to them. James looks over at Lily.

“You haven’t been to a house party before, Lily. This can be a good experience for you.” Peter and Sirius agreed while James waited for Lily to answer.

“Rem Rem?” You asked as you walked towards Remus.

“I guess we can stop by for a few hours.” Remus said as you grabbed a hold of his hand. Remus looks over at Lily and tilts his head at her.

“Let's go.” You let out a squeal and kiss her cheek. “Mike, can we hitch a ride with you?” You asked the driver.

“Sure thing, love. Seb, I’ll follow you.” Mike said, looking out the window at the football player.

“Alright, I’ll be back.” Seb said as Mike parked his car in front of them.

“What about dad?” Lily asked as James and Peter got inside the car. Sirius grabs your bag from the ground, throwing it in the back of the car.

“Don’t worry. I’ll call dad when we are there.” Sirius helped Lily up in the jeep car.

“One of you guys can come in the front.” Mike said as he waiting for them to get in. Sirius looks at Remus and you, both of you are still holding hands.

“Moony! Go to the back with Little Evans.” Sirius said as he walked to the passenger seat. Mike looks at Sirius who sat beside him and shut the door.

“Moony?” Mike asked as he looked over at Sirius who sat down and shut the car door. “It’s just a nickname. Name is Sirius but you can call me, Padfoot.” Sirius said as Lily told him to put on his seatbelt but Sirius was too in enthrall looking at Mike to even listen to her.

“Nice to meet you, Padfoot. I’m Mike.” Sirius leaned back in his seat when Mike got close to him. Sirius blushes when Mike got close to him. Mike had short black hair showing his pierced ears and his eyes were light brown.

“Seat belts are important.” Mike said in a soft tone as he grabbed it for Sirius. Mike gives him a smile when he clicks it, making sure it was correctly in place and leans back in his seat.

“Rem Rem, would you mind if I sit on your lap?” Remus looks over to see Lily sitting on James lap as Peter sat in the middle.

When Remus didn’t answer, you whispered to him. “It’s alright, if you mind. I can catch a ride with someone else.”

Remus still didn’t answer and with a heavy heart you were about to shut the door when he grabbed a hold of your arm.

“Yes, you can sit down. Please do.” James snorts a laugh behind Lily’s hair as Remus practically tugs you inside the car. Remus shuts the door as you settle down in his lab. He spreads his legs to make room for your legs. Remus can smell the light scent of your body spray, he’s so close to you. The car started to move and there was a bump in the road. You were about to fall forward when he wrapped his arms around your stomach, pulling you to his chest.

“You okay?” Remus asked behind you. Your cheeks grew hot when you felt his breath behind your ear.

“Yeah.” You whispered as you grabbed his arm. Your fingers began to play with the fabric of his cardigan. He feels so warm behind you. So comfortable, you feel the roughness of his jeans against your bare legs. You hear Lily and James talking to Mike about their “boarding school.”

Remus was thinking hard as he shut his eyes. He thought of vomit, James vomiting, Peter vomiting, Sirius vomiting on Peter and James. He thought of it as he felt your ass against his crotch.

“Gross thoughts. Gross thoughts.” He tells himself.

He felt you lean back and look at him. “I did miss you, Remus.” You whispered as the window of the car rolled down.

Remus looks at you and holds you close as Mike makes a left.

“I missed you too.” Remus admits. He always waited for Lily to receive your letter so he could find out how you were. He was devastated when Lily told him you were going to cheer camp last summer. He didn’t see you that summer and he felt bad for lying to Lily whenever she asked him why he had a long face.

“You know maybe next time, I can write-.” Peter's wow cuts them off when Mike parked in front of a large house.

Remus stood behind you as everyone made their way into the house. Sirius and Peter stood close as they walked inside looking at the other students on the couch, or dancing in the living room. Some where in the corner smoking while others were in the back yard playing something Remus told them was called Beer Pong.

“Holy shit! If it isn’t the captain in the flesh.” A girl came at you, hugging you. She was a bit taller and wore the same cheerleading uniform as you.

“When Seb told me you were coming. I couldn’t believe it. He went out to get more beer for you.” You tsk at her before shaking her head.

“Christina, he didn’t have too. I’m not planning on drinking. I just wanted to show my sister and her friends who just came to visit me the party.” You said looking over Lily and the guys. Peter's eyes were wide as he saw it was the blonde he was fawning over earlier. Peter thought he was going to have a stroke when the blonde introduced herself to everyone and gave each of them a kiss on the cheek.

“Please tell your sister to relax.” Christina said, looking over at Lily.

“She never comes to our house party. Our captain is a good girl but finally she is at her first party. She needs to have a drink.”

“Peter, why don’t you help her get some drinks for us.” Peter looks over at you with a face. You gave him a wink and signaled your head to Christina. It was painfully obvious that he liked her.

“Oh yes, come with me.” Christina said, holding out her hand for Peter. Everyone smiled as Peter without a single thought, grabbed a hold of her hand and let Christina drag him to the kitchen.

“She’s harmless. I swear.” You said looking over at the kitchen again.

“Is it true then?” Sirius asked with a smirk. “You’re a good girl? You never drink?”

“Of course, she is. She’s just like me.” Lily said, walking over to you making you chuckle.

You tried your best to not look Remus. A bit embarrassed that your friends had outed you and told your sister and her friends that you were a prude and a good girl who doesn’t do anything bad.

“Yo!” Remus watched the same football player you were talking come behind you.

“Christina said you’re drinking.” Lily's eyes widened at the sight of the football player towering over them. He had a case of beer over his shoulder, showing his muscles.

“Only one, Seb. By the way, this is my sister and these are her friends.” Remus felt like he needed to drink something before lashing out when he saw Seb placing a hand on your shoulder after handing them the cans of beer.

“I want you guys to meet my boyfriend. BABY!” Remus looks up from his beer at the guy. Wait boyfriend, Remus and Sirius glance at each other as Chris from earlier comes towards them with a smile.

James saw Chris come over and give a kiss to Chris before looking over at them. “You met my boyfriend, Seb.”

Remus chuckles to himself. Seb wasn't your boyfriend. Remus liked how you interacted with them. He liked seeing you smiling and talking. He didn’t know you were quite popular. He felt childish whenever he got a little bit jealous when a guy came over to talk to you. He couldn’t help it though you were so beautiful. Of course, guys are going to come up to you. He was glad that you didn’t leave them to talk to someone else. You had introduced them to practically everyone.

Lily and James were dancing while Peter and Christina were in the kitchen, getting their seventh drink of the night. Remus can’t help but smirk when he sees Sirius and Mike leaning close together against the wall. Sirius was showing Mike, his silver rings on his fingers. Remus looks away when he sees you walking back to him with two more beers. He made room for you on the couch and thanked you when you handed him one.

“Are you having a good time?” Remus looks over at you. Your cheeks were a bit flushed and your eyes were glossy, you had more than one beer. You had a smile on your face as you played with the tab of the can. Remus bumps his knee with yours.

“I am. You?” You nod at him as he takes a sip. Remus notices as a couple walking in front of you and sat across from him and you. The girl recognized you as well as the guy she was with. The girl had bright red hair while the guy had his hair neon green. The couple were from your art class, you told him. You were talking with them when you accidently placed your hand on top of his. Remus blushed when you grabbed a hold of his hand as you laughed at them.

"Did you hear them?" Remus smiles and nods at you. He haven't heard a thing, he was freaking out on inside that you were holding his hand. He didn’t let go, he didn’t want you to let go

“To be honest, I’m surprised you’re here. You’re usually reading or in the library. Always reading that weird brown book.” Remus looks up at the girl's words.

“What?” He asked and looked over at you who was blushing really hard.

“She always has this brown book. A fairytale about these four people. They are witches or something.” She said before looking over at her boyfriend.

“Yeah, what is it again? Dude is a lion and one is a snake.” Remus frowns as they continue to speak. “You looked inside of it?” Remus felt you sit up straight.

“Only for a second, we just wanted to know what it was. You're always reading it.”

“Oh shit! I remember! They were wizards and they made this school or something.” Remus' heart dropped when she said that.

You still had the book he gifted you a while back. It was a gift he had given you for your birthday. He remembered he had bought it in Hogsmeade and wrapped it in a paper bag. He remembers the face you make when he sat beside you as you open the book. It was filled with colorful photos and all information about Hogwarts and the four founding members. You had given him a kiss on the cheek when you turned a page and saw the photos were moving.

“They have an orgy at the end?” The guy asks you with a laugh and Remus notices the awkward look on your face.

“They all die.” Remus answered a bit harshly.

“I’m going out for some air.” You said quickly getting up from the couch, letting go of his hand and walking out the back door.

You didn’t realize Remus was following you. He excuses himself to your friends and follows you. He placed his beer on the kitchen counter as he went through the back door where you went. Making your way further to the backyard, you threw your beer on the ground. You sighed to yourself, you felt embarrassed and worry. You were sure that Remus was angry at you for letting someone look in the book that he had gifted you. It would be best if no one got a hold of it, he had told you and made you promise to never show it to anyone. That book was the only thing from Remus and you had carried it everywhere with you. You had read countless times front to back. You read all the stories about the houses and the professors in it. You had daydreamed about going to Hogwarts to see your sister and Remus.

Remus calls your name out when he sees you leaning against a tree. Looking over your shoulder, he saw you were going to cry. He quickly goes to you.

“What’s wrong?” He asked as he wrapped an arm around you.

“I’m sorry. They saw the book. I know I promise you no one would look at it. Please don’t be mad at me.” Remus shakes his head as he drops his arm around you.

“It’s okay. I’m not mad at you.” You look up at a Remus with tears welled up in your eyes. Remus quickly wipe the single tear that managed to escape your eye.

“You kept the book.” Remus said as his hand cupped your cheek then slowly dropped down at your neck. His fingers touched the neckline of your uniform. You lean against him before looking down at the ground all shy.

“Of course, you gave it to me as a gift. I love it.” You didn’t say anything else when Remus brought his hand under your chin.

“It’s been years and you still read it?” You nod at him when he made you look up at him.

“Why?” He asked, looking down at your face.

“It reminds me of Lily.” Remus was going to pull away at your answer. Perhaps he thought wrong, he thinks to himself. Maybe you didn’t feel anything for him.

“I think of you too, Remus.” He comes to a halt. "I imagine what it would be like to go to school with you."

"I imagine that too." Remus admitted. "I would walk you to your classes. I'll take you to the Black Lake and to the Astronomy Tower. Then at the weekends, I'll take you out to Hogsmeade."

"I would have love that." You tell him. "Lily told me that the Astronomy Tower is usually where people go to.." You don't finish your sentence, there was no need because Remus knew. People go up there when feeling frisky.

He chuckles and rub the back of his neck avoid eye contact with you. You knew it was now or never when Remus began to stutter, trying to come up with something.

“I want to tell you something. It might seem dumb to you because I'm your best friend's little sister. I like you and before you say anything. I’m sure there are pretty witches at your school and you might have someone already but I like you, Remus. I like you a lot.” Remus felt you about to back away when he didn’t say anything.

He quickly leans down to kiss your lips, give you a peck. Sirius’ words echoed in his mind about telling you the truth.

“Remus..” You said his name softly.

“I like you too.” Remus shyly said as he pulled you into his chest.

“I like you so much that I don’t even look at the witches in school. I don’t care that you’re a muggle.” Remus said easing your insecurities.

When it was time to leave, Remus didn’t want to go. There was one last week until starting a new school year. He had begged his parents to let him stay for a few more weeks after the house party. Your relationship with him blossomed after that night. When he stayed over at the Evans, he slept on the couch. Every night he stayed, he waited up for you to quietly go down the stairs. He would bite his bottom lip to not make a noise when you straddle him to kiss him. Making out until dawn and talking in hushed whispers about his interests and yours, talking about books and movies.

When it was time to go, Lily’s father was nice enough to take me to the train station. Remus and you were behind the house away from everyone, he towered over you as he kissed you.

“Write to me. Promise me you’ll write to me.” He begs as he nuzzles into your neck.

“I will. I promise it. Once a week.” Remus shakes his head. “Everyday.” You looked at him with wide eyes and repeated it in a shocking tone.

“Your owl will get tired.” Remus shakes his head once more.

“I’ll give him treats and feed him more.” Remus said with a smile before sighing.

“I’m going to miss you.” Remus told you sadly.

“One more year and you’re out.” You whispered to him as you kissed him. You pulled away at the sound of Lily calling for him and you.

Remus wants to tell you about Moony. He really did it every time he was going to bring it out, something or someone will get in the way. He was sure that you were going to break up with him once you found out. It was crazy enough that he was a wizard but he’s a werewolf as well. Remus was deep in thought as he gave Mr. Evans his luggage so he could put it in the trunk of his car.

“Bye, Moony!” Remus' head shot up and saw you waving at him by the front door. Lily comes out behind you and waves bye at Remus.

It was a week back in school and Remus was eating breakfast when the mail started to fly in. One by one owls came flying though and dropped letters and mail to the students. Remus knew you wouldn’t write back. You knew his nickname. Moony, he was pretty sure you were smart enough to figure it out. He didn’t mention it to Lily about it. Afraid to ruin his friendship with her but he told Sirius it.

“Oh! Moony!” Sirius shouted as he watched the white envelope slowly falling down in front of Remus.

Remus looks up from his plate and stands up, reaching to grab the letter. Sirius looks over as Remus quickly opens it. Sirius can’t help but smile at the sight of his best mate looking happy as he read the letter from you.

"She knows." Remus said looking at Sirius. "And?" Sirius asked worry as Remus went back to read the letter.

"If you think being one will make me like you less. You are wrong, Remus Lupin." They shared a smile and Remus pulls out a red scrunchie from inside the envelope. Remus pulls his sleeves up so he can put it around his wrist.

Sirius turns back to his plate and raises a brow when he notices a letter next to him. Opening it up, he can’t fight the urge to smile wide when he sees it was from Mike.

#remus lupin x you #remus lupin x reader #the marauders #lily evans #muggle reader #sfw #remus lupin #remus lupin x y/n #harry potter fandom #harry potter fanfiction #remus lupin imagine

699 notes · View notes

everythingisromant1c · 6 months ago

Text

Take Me Out (to the Ball Game)

james potter x reader

summary - in which you take your very platonic friend James out to his first baseball game to enjoy its many festivities, including but not limited to: the kiss cam.

type - one shot

wc [2.5k]

tags: James Potter x reader, friends to lovers, muggle!reader, fluff, baseball game date, kiss cam, and one very unexpected first kiss.

a/n: i am not an avid baseball enthusiast so if there's any terminology mistakes i apologize <33 happy reading! (check this out on my ao3!)

Your first order of business that summer was getting a very sheltered James into your world, or, the muggle world, as he liked to call it. You'd had the honor of taking him to his first muggle movie, bringing him on his first muggle shopping spree, and having him try a Slurpee for the first time—you'd discovered he liked Coca-Cola and Cherry the best.

The last thing on your list of activities was to take him to his first baseball game. By the time the afternoon had come, you'd done just that.

You settled into one of the upper-level infield seats after James so graciously offered to pay for the tickets and practically everything else the entire day, even with all your resisting. He hadn't held back with his spending, both of your hands tucked underneath foam fingers, with a baseball helmet full of buttery popcorn sitting on your lap.

James looked so in his element from beside you, wearing the baseball jersey you'd pointed out in the merchandise section on your way into the stadium, his hair lightly shifting in the warm summer breeze. He looked roguishly handsome in what he classified as 'muggle clothing' to you with a harmless roll of his eyes, but you selfishly loved the sight. Though, more than anything, he seemed like he was enjoying himself, and that was what mattered most to you.

"What's that?" You watched as James pointed a foam finger up diagonally towards what looked like just the blue afternoon sky, until you followed his line of vision to the large screen in the distance. You let a thin smile overtake your features at his curiosity.

"That's the Jumbotron." You picked up a piece of popcorn and threw it into your mouth, James shaking off his foam finger and stealing a handful from the bowl on your lap with a lopsided grin.

"The jumbo what?"

You held back your laugh. "The jumbotron. It's a big screen they put at sports stadiums. Like a TV, only a lot bigger."

James squinted from beside you. "Who wants to watch a 'TV' when they're at a baseball game?"

The corners of your eyes crinkled at the way the word 'TV' sounded so foreign from his lips, and you shook your head. "It's not actually a TV. They show what's going on in the game on a big screen so everyone can see it. But they use it for other stuff too. Sometimes they'll have interactive games or use it as a kiss cam."

"A kiss cam?" James only sounded more confused then, his brows pulling together, but that time around the corners of his lips were quirking up with amusement.

You couldn't help your laugh at his intrigue. You shook your head to yourself. "It's kind of a dumb tradition, really." He nodded at you to continue, eyes sweet. "Basically, when the kiss cam comes on, the cameramen find random people in the audience and put them on the screen. Whoever comes up on the screen is meant to kiss."

You watched James's features curl into both amusement and horror. He blinked his warm eyes at you. "So they just go around making strangers kiss each other?"

You giggled. "Not strangers," you chided. "It usually only lands on couples."

"How are they supposed to know who's a couple and who's not?"

You shrugged. "I suppose you can always just kind of tell." Looking away from him and his incredulous stare and down at your lap, you set your bowl of popcorn in James's lap instead. "I'm gonna use the bathroom."

James took a light hold of your wrist as you stood up, sitting up straighter in his seat to look up at you. "Do you want me to come with you?"

"No, that's alright," you told him. "You should watch our seats." You turned around towards the stairs to your left but paused to turn around one last time. "And tell me what I missed once I get back."

James tipped his head at you, saluting you playfully, and you smiled before leaving. You were more than satisfied with how the day was going and let your smile creep up on your lips the entire way to the restroom and back. You returned after a few minutes, having to scan the sea of baseball fans for the head of unruly brown curls you were so familiar with. You found him after a quick beat when he turned around, waving you over as his features lit warmly. You made your way down the concrete steps, scooting your way past a few people before finding your seat again.

"What'd I miss?" you asked, settling into the plastic chair underneath you as James held up the almost empty bowl of popcorn for you to take some. You did, and you didn't miss the way he placed his arm around the back of your seat carefully, his body heat emitting even underneath the summer sun.

"Nothing much," James answered casually. "But one of the guys hit the ball all the way into the stands."

Your eyes widened comically as you sat up to face him. "You mean he hit a home run?"

James paused momentarily at your reaction, and it was like you could visibly see him tracing through all the baseball vocabulary you'd gone over with him at the start of the game. "I think so."

"What team was it?"

He blinked at you and your probably anxious tone, panicking as he shrugged. "You think I know the names?"

You tipped your head at him amusedly as you took a breath in. "What color was the guy wearing?"

"Uh, maybe blue?" At that, you nodded happily, facing forward again. "Or maybe it was black. I don't have my glasses on."

You looked over at him exasperatedly but still felt the urge to laugh. You nudged him in the shoulder when you could see he felt badly for his scorekeeping skills, or lack of them. "It's alright. We can just check the scoreboard."

He seemed to calm at that, following your line of vision out into the field, when he paused. "Hey, isn't that the kiss cam you were talking about?"

You shifted your gaze to his nodding head, and then over the Jumbotron, and saw with familiarity that it was, in fact, time for the kiss cam. Lighthearted music played in the background as the larger-than-life screen lit up, pink hearts surrounding it and serving as a border to the people the screen displayed.

"Oh my God, it is," you breathed, lightly hitting James on the knee a few times in excitement. He chuckled from beside you, both of your eyes locking on the screen with interest as it pointed itself to different couples around the stadium. A few older couples were displayed, one pair of teenagers probably on a date, and a mother and father whose kids were cringing from beside them, but all of them turned to kiss the other without a word in protest, the stands applauding each time.

You smiled fondly, turning to the man beside you. "See James, it's not creepy. It's sweet, isn't it?"

"Yeah yeah," he placated with a playful roll of his eyes. "You're such a romantic."

You dropped your jaw for a moment before pointing a finger at his chest accusatorially. "As if you're not one, Potter."

The sides of his mouth lifted up into a charming grin and he pulled you into his side, ruffling your hair. You scrunched up your features, pushing away from him as you shot him a glare without any real annoyance, feeling your cheeks ache from your smile.

Shaking your head, you turned away from James and back towards the field, but stopped moving almost right away. Your heart stilled in your chest.

"Oh my God."

At your words, James turned worriedly from you to look where you were. When his gaze landed on the Jumbotron, his face lit up.

Stating the obvious, you swallowed. "It's showing us."

James looked between you and the ginormous screen across the field that was showing both you and him from where you sat, and beamed as the crowd began to clap and whoop. He waved out at the screen like the extrovert he was, looking like he was enjoying himself way too much as you stayed frozen in your seat.

When the camera didn't pan away and the crowd became louder, he turned to you, speaking out of the side of his mouth. "They don't seem very happy."

You shook your head, tone strained. "They want us to kiss, James."

You looked up at the screen that showed the two of you, watching your shocked and quite frankly mortified expression reflected back to you, almost funny in comparison to James's glowing smile.

"Well, let's give the people what they want."

Your head snapped over to a calm James as your brows tugged. "Wh-" you sputtered. "We can't do that."

"Why not?" James questioned, and when he looked back out at the crowd with his bright expression they began roaring excitedly. "It's the kiss cam!"

"The kiss cam is for couples." You emphasized the word, looking around at the people seated around you who couldn't only see you but hear you. You lowered your voice insecurely. "We're not a couple."

"It doesn't seem like they care." James gestured back to the screen, pink hearts now outlining the image of both of you from afar, an almost satirical sight that left you reeling.

You looked back down at your lap, and then at James pointedly. "That's because they think we're a couple."

Though, when you looked up at the screen, you couldn't ignore the fact that the two of you sort of did look like a couple. With James's arm thrown over the back of your seat, and the way you were both subconsciously sitting on the insides of your seats and leaning into each other, the mistake wasn't totally non-understandable. The fact only made heat rise to your cheeks.

James shook his head as his smile stayed plastered on his face, and you sighed. The Jumbotron was somehow still displaying the two of you, and the stands were still loud in anticipation. Like the supervillain you were, you shook your head back and forth. When they began to boo, you gestured between you and James, mouthing repeatedly "We're friends!", though the crowd didn't seem to care. You could hear James snorting from next to you.

Finally, even with the stands still roaring, the camera panned away to display the next couple—not that you and James were one—and you felt like you could finally breathe again.

"Jesus," you huffed, feeling like you'd just run some sort of marathon, and James shook his head at you fondly. For some reason you found it much too difficult to look him in the eyes, so you kept your eyes trained on the field.

When you felt the shifting of his shoulders from next to you followed by uneven breathing, you snapped your head to look at James. "Are you laughing at me?"

"No!" he swore, innocently putting his hands up, though the amused smirk on his lips didn't try to hide itself.

You sighed, ignoring the man to your right and turning back to face the field again, but you regretted that choice right away when you saw your reflection staring back at you through the Jumbotron once again.

"Oh my God," you swore again as the stands rumbled with encouraging shouts. This time around, you were quick to hide your face in James's chest. You didn't need to look up at him to know that he was still unbothered by the whole situation, feeling the way his chest lifted softly up and down with laughter from beneath you.

"Who the hell is controlling this thing?" Your panicked words came out muffled into James's baseball jersey. Whether he understood them or not, he put his hand around your shoulder, rubbing at it soothingly.

"I thought you said they were sweet," he challenged, and when you pulled away from him again he had a shit-eating grin on his face.

You pursed your lips, turning to look up at the Jumbotron and the pink hearts surrounding you and James, and the crowd went somehow even louder. At the absurdity of it all, you let a laugh escape you, looking down at your lap.

"Come on," James cooed, his arm still on your shoulder comfortingly. "What's the harm?"

You glanced up at him and his eyes, warm like honey, and stopped to think to yourself. Really, what was the harm?

When you didn't say anything, James looked between the stands and you. Then he leaned forward until he was level with your nervous face, voice going soft. "Alright," he gave in. "We don't have to if you're uncomfortable."

You chewed at the inside of your cheek as James turned away again towards the crowd, waving his hand at the camera as if to say 'Move on.' They only booed and kept on shouting.

You couldn't identify the feeling growing in your chest, but you knew it was a new feeling. You looked up at the Jumbotron and at your and James's reflections in it—truly looking the part of a 'couple'—and at the people in the stands that seemed to beckon to you, and then at James. He looked good—too good. His jawline was sharp and stern as he looked out at the crowd, lashes fanning against his face effortlessly, and his unruly hair shined perfectly in underneath the sun. Worst of all, you recognized just how much you missed the grin that'd been on his face all day, and wanted to see it nothing more than to see it again.

You didn't know what had come over you, when you said, "Screw it," but the words came out low enough that it came as a surprise to James when you reached out a hand to his cheek.

He turned to look at you with little effort on your part, surprise taking over his features before it shifted into amused interest, pink lips curling up as he looked down at you.

You were nervous under his gaze, and surely the thousands of others that were observing all of this through the jumbo screen, but his seemed like the only one that mattered in that moment. Before you could grow too nervous and chicken out, you closed the distance between you with a hand on the back of his neck.

Sparks flittered through you right away, starting from your lips and rushing through the rest of you. The way the entire stadium roared in the background, the sound meeting your ears like the crash of a symbol, had your cheeks heating and your lips curving up in a smile.

You felt James's boyish grin pressing against your lips, growing as you tugged at the hair by the nape of his neck, and you loved the feeling.

When you finally pulled away, you felt out of breath. You knew it didn't help that the kiss cam was still pinned on you, but the way James was looking down at you certainly wasn't helping either. His eyes raked over your face with wonder, cheeks flushed, his lips a deepened pink color from the pressure of the kiss, but he didn't look like he minded.

"Wow," he said, and you fought the urge to hide your face in his neck at his breathlessness. "You should take me to baseball games more often."

Your own face flushed at his words, his voice husky as he said them. You tipped your head at him and shrugged happily, feeling braver than you had all morning. "Maybe I should."

230 notes · View notes

dewitty1 · 1 month ago

Text

Fic Recs Wrap Up November 2024 ✩°｡⋆(ノﾟ∀ﾟ)ノ⌒･*:.｡. .｡.:*･゜ﾟ･*☆

After the Rain Falls by shinigami714 @shinigami714

After the events of the war, all Harry wants to do is forget. For everything to return to normal. But things never were normal for him, and the war left many marks on him not so easily forgotten. When he receives a surprising offer to return to Hogwarts in a continuing education program, Harry jumps at the chance, and despite his best efforts to deal with his problems alone, discovers along the way that quite often, two minds are greater than one. Rec Post

we have heard on high by oflights @oflights

Reeling from the fallout of a bad breakup, Harry decides to find out who his soulmate is. The bad news: it’s Draco Malfoy. The good news: Malfoy doesn’t seem to know they’re soulmates. The worst news: Harry might be falling for him anyway. Rec Post

Nothing Gold Can Stay by Moonflower_Rose @moonflower-rose

One summer evening, Harry Potter vanished in the middle of dinner with his friends. Four days later he came back. Sort of. Draco Malfoy is on the case. Rec Post

The Unplottable Time Conundrum by Writcraft @writcraft

When the past starts bleeding into the present at Grimmauld Place, an old academic article pulls Draco Malfoy out of his life of luxury. Haunted by the memory of a fleeting post-war kiss and thrust into the ghostly spaces inhabited by Unspeakable Harry Potter, Draco’s easy life is about to get a whole lot more complicated. Rec Post

Here are a few more fics I've read recently that y'all might like to check out as well!(੭ˊ͈ ꒵ˋ͈)੭. * ･｡ﾟ☆

Come As You Are written by its_the_allure @its-the-allure, art by ItsPhantasmagoria @itsphantasmagoria

When Harry Potter visits a sexy internet chatroom site, he does so with the hope of answering a niggling question: Am I interested in men? He finds more than he anticipated when he stumbles upon a free strip show starring a very familiar person. Just what is Draco Malfoy doing on a Muggle pay-per-view site? And when did he get so fucking fit? Rec Post

You're on Your Own, Kid by bluefay @thesleepiesthufflepuff

In August of 1998, Draco leaves behind everything he’s ever known. With the help of two middle-aged lesbians, a Muggle bookshop, and a new best friend, Draco’s future is finally looking up. That is, until Harry Potter wanders back into his life a year later, undoing everything Draco has worked towards. Or, a tale about healing, forgiveness, and living for no one but yourself.

( •ॢ◡-ॢ)-♡ I hope you enjoy these fics as much as I have! Happy reading! xoxo Carey (◍•ᴗ•◍)♡ ✧*💜💙💚💛❤💗💕💖

69 notes · View notes

meelusinee · 6 days ago

Text

A LITTLE LOAF | R.B X READER

word count \ 2.8k | fluffy angst | slash / regulus black x reader

in which regulus wanders upon your bakery after finding voldemort's locket author's note at the end! | thanks to @ikkyfics for the idea!

A LITTLE LOAF SERIES MASTERLIST

THE LITTLE LOAF | REGULUS BLACK X READER

Regulus had dealt with a lot of things in his life.

He had dealt with his mother and father, which was an accomplishment in itself of itself. He survived Hogwarts and the Marauders, along with any of the other Slytherins in his year. Punishments one after another, either watching or suffering through them himself. Pain that he could never really describe, pain he doubted anyone could.

He’d heard screams that haunted even his easiest of nightmares. His cousin, Bellatrix, went absolutely insane. Narcissa had married a Pureblood maniac, birthing a baby that he doubted would be raised to be a decent person. Sirius and Andromeda ran away, neither of them willing to listen to him regardless of how good or bad of a person he really was.

Which left him all alone, nobody but his thoughts and a mark permanently inked on his skin.

He was younger when he believed in whatever he was told by his parents. When he believed that becoming a Death Eater could make his life easier, that it could make it nicer. That things would become better, and that he’d find a community for him.

He grew up once he got that Dark Mark.

It burnt. It burnt like hell, like lava burning into his skin and mind. The Dark Lord’s magic was no joke, he found, feeling like he was being stamped with the core of a spacial star. His mind felt even worse, like it had been carved hollow with windows attached to every crevice and inch.

Regulus ended up crying in his bathroom that night. The tears felt like a balm of ice when they landed on the Dark Mark, though they burnt more than it too.

He didn’t do much about it. He told his friends once, though shut his mouth up no more than two moments after. Barty was insane already, his mark flaunted loud and proud in defiance of his father. Evan wasn’t far behind him, following in his footsteps like a damaged puppy viewing its new master as its salvation.

Pandora listened once. Pandora died soon after.

So he focused on his missions. He did what he could to survive, and he did what he could to help others survive. Paperwork was his specialty, though he was often sent off for other matters. Cloning bodies to pretend like he’d killed them, ridding them of memories and sending them off to the Muggle world. Either that, or he’d go off and kill someone else. A hungry politician or a serial killer, pretending they were someone else.

He wanted to defeat the Dark Lord, though he had no way to know how. As far as he knew, there was no way.

That was until he summoned Kreacher tonight.

“Kill me!” Kreacher had wailed. There was a crack in his voice he had never heard before, not even when he had been punished by Walaburga.

“Kreacher?” he whispered quietly, slowly falling down to his knees as Kreacher ran up to him.

“Master Regulus?” Kreacher wailed once more, banging his head against a rock he had been teleported with. His head was bleeding already, a small bump growing on his head.

Regulus pulled the rock out of his hand quickly, pulling him in a hug tight enough to stop Kreacher from harming himself further. He never got used to comforting people in the slightest, no matter how close he was to them, though he felt as though he owed it to Kreacher. Especially after every time Kreacher comforted him, it was the least he could do.

“Master Regulus,” he said again, voice a lot calmer than when he was originally summoned. His hands reached towards his head, covering the bloody bump as best as he could. “Kreacher has found a way to defeat the Dark Lord.”

“You did?” Regulus said incredulously. “How?”

Kreacher’s breathing became heavy, face green as if he had been poisoned. As far as Regulus knew, he might’ve been figuring it out. “We may need another.”

��Another person?” Regulus whispered, looking around his room as he thought about who he could tell.

His parents were out of the question, as were Sirius and anyone in his stupid Order. Even if he wanted to, he couldn’t ask them for help. Pandora was his first thought, though he quickly remembered. Barty most likely would’ve tattled as soon as he heard, Evan right behind him. Dorcas had passed too, having been killed by the Dark Lord personally. He still wasn’t sure why.

Narcissa might help though. She didn’t ask questions often, and he knew she didn’t know enough to connect any dots about the Death Eaters.

“Cissa?” Regulus whispered, trying to keep quiet. He never knew was wandering the halls.

“Kreacher thinks that Master Regulus’ idea is a good one.” Kreacher said, nodding slowly. “Though Kreacher is unsure if he will need to be summoned in order for this to work. The Dark Lord casted an anti-Apparation charm on the cave.”

“The cave?” Regulus asked. “What cave, Kreacher?”

Kreacher sighed as he finally caught his breath. He seemed to look better than before. He wasn’t begging to be killed, at the very least.

Kreacher began to explain what he had found. A cave made by the Dark Lord, with an inability to be Apparated into or Disapparated out of. A door opened by blood, and a potion he would have to drink after passing through a lake of Inferni. Kreacher was not sure if he could Apparate both him and Regulus back out, though Regulus was fairly certain that he could. Even still, he planned on asking Cissa for discreet help just in case.

And after a little bit more discussion, he had a plan.

He planned to leave early in the morning. He planned for this to be easy.

It didn’t turn out easy.

He smeared his blood against the wall. He crossed the lake with Inferni, the boat rocking back and forth as he paddled it forward through the cold water. He had gotten to the poison, with Kreacher holding a small bracelet in his hand. It would vibrate whenever he pressed it. Once for help, and two for an okay.

But now he was in front of the poison. Regulus could already feel his body aching as he walked closer and closer to the pedestal full of water, pain running through his body though it was mild.

“Master Regulus,” Kreacher said to him, hands clasped together. “Remember that I am not allowed to give you relief,”

“No matter how much I beg.” Regulus finished, looking down at the poisoned water. “There is something under this though, right? A Horcrux?”

Kreacher nodded. “Yes, a Horcrux.”

“I didn’t get much material on what it was,” he muttered, looking at Kreacher with furrowed eyebrows as he tried to remember what he had learned. It wasn’t much though, having stayed up most of the night worrying about it. “But I learned that it helps to keep one alive, no?”

“Yes, Master Regulus.” Kreacher said, nodding. “That’s what I found yesterday. They need to be destroyed with the highest form of magic, they can only be formed by committing murder before.”

“Okay.” he whispered, looking down at the poisoned water once more. “Kreacher?”

“Yes, Master Regulus?” he asked, looking up at Regulus.

“Don’t let me go in the water.” Regulus muttered under his breath, grabbing a goblet he had brought himself. He didn’t know how much poison would be in the basin, though it seemed enough to fit.

“Yes, Master Regulus.” he said, nodding.

Regulus sighed before collecting the poison in the goblet, drinking it all in one go. It went down his throat with a burning sensation, like his father and mother casting a Crucio on him at the same time. It hurt, to say the very least.

He felt thirsty.

Extremely thirsty.

There was water down below him. A pool of water surrounding him. It looked so cold, and his throat felt so hot inside of his neck.

He still felt thirsty. Too thirsty to resist.

He felt something dragging away from the water. There was something in there, though he didn’t care. He needed to feel relief in his throat from whatever he had drunken, his throat burning hotter than a neutron star’s heart running down his throat.

“Water,” he rasped out, bile coming up from his throat as he kneeled down near the water. There were hands all around him. On his arms dragging him down and two hands dragging him up, his hair and hands being dragged in different directions. “I need water,”

“Master Regulus!” he heard a voice call out. He wasn’t sure who it was, though he felt his body shifting. It swirled around in the air, vomit and bile coming out of his throat as he felt his body landing somewhere else.

“You’re okay, Master Regulus!” the voice said. He wasn’t sure why it was calling him its master.

Regulus’ vision faded in and out, body aching as he laid down on the ground. He felt his body heating up hot, unable to stop it. His throat and face burned, his body shaking violently. He wanted a release.

His eyes fell closed as he slumped down to the ground completely. His head felt like it was full of water, eyes pounding behind his skull.

“Kreacher,” he rasped out. “Make it stop.”

The house elf looked around, tapping the bracelet to signal that they were fine. He didn’t know what to do.

“Kreacher.” he rasped. “Please.”

Regulus woke up to a blank ceiling, a cold towel on his forehead. He had scratch marks on his arms, and his scalp was burning horridly. Other than that though, he seemed generally fine.

“Kreacher?” he called out. His voice was hoarser than he expected, still burning from whatever he did last night. He didn’t remember it fully.

“Master Regulus!” he called out, a small plate of sandwiches in his hands. “You’re awake.”

“What happened?” he asked confusedly, looking around the room. It definitely wasn’t a place he was used to, rather barren and bland for his taste.

“You fainted from the poison.” he said.

“Ah.” Regulus said, before sighing. “Is there a bakery or something near here? I’m starving.”

“Kreacher cannot go get you food, Master Regulus.” he said, almost disappointed in a sense. “This is a Muggle town, sir. Though Kreacher did find one on the outer corner of this street.”

“Thank you, Kreacher.” Regulus said, a small smile on his face. “For everything. I’ll bring you back something, if you’d like.”

“Kreacher cannot ask that of you.” he said, shaking his head no. “No he cannot.”

“It’s not asking if I offer.” Regukus said, patting Kreacher on the head before standing up. He was a bit wobbly, sure. But he could probably play it off as a hangover more than anything else. Especially if this town was full of Muggles.

“I’ll be back, Kreacher.” he called out, grabbing a coat and walking out to the bakery.

You were currently rolling bread on the counter, visible from the cash register for design. Customers watching you was something you had to get used to for a long time, though now it’s something you take pride in. Especially when people walk up asking questions for their own use, either on tips or just the general process in general.

The bell to the door rung loud as someone walked in. Nobody had come in yet for the day, you didn’t get much business on Tuesdays.

“Welcome to The Little Loaf!” you called out, a wide smile growing on your face as you stood up. Your feet carried you to the register easily, heels clicking on the ground. “What can I get for ya?”

“Uhm,” the man mumbled. He looked at you for a moment or two in what you assumed to be wonder before blinking out of it, shaking his head as he looked at the menu. “A coffee?”

“Coffee sounds really good right about now,” you agreed with a playful chuckle, putting that in the register before looking at him. “Anything else?”

“Uh,” he mumbled, looking over at the display case. “Maybe a breakfast croissant. I’ve never been here.”

You chuckled softly and waved the comment off, offering to detail to him the different items. He ended up with a coffee and two croissants, along with a small breakfast biscuit in a to go bag.

During that time talking you realized that he seemed rather nice. Awkward, sure, but that was probably because he seemed rather new. He had a rather distinct accent that you could easily tell was French, though he didn’t seem to notice it.

You also learned his name was Regulus.

“Thank you for shopping here!” you smiled brightly at him, waving as he walked out. The store seemed to get just a little colder once he did, though you figured that you wouldn’t question that right this moment.

All you had to do now was divide the bread and bake it.

Regulus stood there in shock by the time he walked out the store, face flushed completely red as he found a secluded alleyway to hide himself in.

You were the most beautiful thing he had ever seen in his life. He was sure that he made a blubbering fool of himself back there, that you would never go for him under any circumstances. He most definitely was not used to your culture one bit either.

But Merlin, were you beautiful.

He figured that he would need an excuse for something about himself. How would he describe that he communicated through letters sent by owls? Did Muggles even use letters for communication? What would they use to communicate?

What about their courting system? Would you use formalities like he was used to? Would you jump into it like his heart seemed to want?

His face flushed brighter and harder the more he thought about it. He was always one to fantasize about things, though he had never done it to this extent. He felt his heart pounding in his chest as question after question ran through his mind, trying to steady his breath as he took a sip of his coffee.

He learned that you owned the bakery. That you ran it all by yourself for the most part, with the exception of your sister on extremely busy days.

He also learned about what the words ‘love at first sight’ really meant.

Regulus found his feet walking back to the bakery before he could even register it. He tried to stop himself, unsure how asking you for anything would really go. Would you say yes? Would you find him creepy? Would he even be able to communicate with you?

He was a Death Eater still. He had to focus on killing the Dark Lord. Would you being a Muggle complicate or conflict his interests? Would he be putting you in harm’s way if he asked you out?

Regulus found himself not caring as much as his thoughts wanted to though. His face was still red when he walked in, a small smile on his face. “Hi again.”

“Hey there!” you smiled. That smile seemed so perfect, it disarmed him instantly. “Did you miss anything?”

“Not quite, no,” he mumbled, clearing his throat. His accent was rather thick right now, he found, which usually happened when he was nervous. He felt extremely nervous right about now. “How would one reach out to you?”

“Pardon?” you asked, a small chuckle escaping you.

“I mean,” he said before pausing. “Should one want to contact you. How would you suggest they do it?”

“Oh!” you said, before chuckling softly. “My phone number, usually.”

He blinked once. Twice.

“Your,” he mumbled in confusion. “Phone?”

“Yes, a phone.” you chuckled, a bit louder than before. “What, have you never heard of that before?”

He shook his head, clearing his throat again. “No, I have not.” he mumbled. “I usually sent letters where I grew up. Sophistication and all that.”

“That sounds absolutely dreadful.” you mumbled, your face forming a pout. “Maybe you can buy one!”

Regulus nodded, eyebrows furrowing once more. “How does one buy a phone?”

You smiled at him, nudging him from over the counter as you looked him in the eyes. Your eyes were so beautiful, he found himself drowning in them for a moment or two. He wanted to stay there forever.

“How about we meet here tomorrow? Imll take you on a walk to the phone store, we can go shopping!” you smiled, drumming your fingers against the desk.

He blushed even brighter at that, so hard that he was sure he was transfiguring into a tomato. “Okay.”

“Okay!” you smiled, clapping excitedly. “I close shop about 2 in the afternoon, you can stop by after. I’ll make a small treat for us both.”

“Okay.” he nodded, this time with a bit more confidence.

Merlin, he was so done for.

AUTHOR'S NOTE

i'm making this a small little series to work on, since the idea i had when i got the prompt was just too good to put into a oneshot! THANK YOU AGAINNN to @ikkyfics for recommending me the idea (i loaf u sm bestie ur one of the bestest frfr)

AS ALWAYS - please like, comment and reblog!! it helps out much more than you guys might realize, so u should totes do it!

A LITTLE LOAF SERIES MASTERLIST

#fanfiction #harry potter fanfiction #fluff #fanfic #extra fluff #slight angst #not much #the marauders #regulus black #regulus black x reader #regulus black x y/n #regulus black x you #regulus black deserved better #and im giving it to him #love at first sight #love at first bite #bakery au #muggle reader #squib reader

59 notes · View notes

ellecdc · 6 months ago

Note

elle, my love. my darling. could I be the biggest pest and request maybe something with our beloved barty jr? like maybe you know of him but don’t really know him but someone is bugging you at a party and you ask him to pretend to be your boyfriend and he plays the role just a little too well?

Ilysm darling 🖤

for you, sab? anything

Barty Crouch Junior x fem!reader who asks him to pretend to be her boyfriend

CW: harassment - a guy won't leave reader alone at a bar, drinking/bar culture, there is perhaps one sentence that is sort of explicit but the rest is PG and then fades to black

You had tried everything to shake this guy off of you; from polite no thank you’s, to hiding in the loo, to pretending not to notice when he was standing right beside you. You had even attempted the tried-and-true “I have a boyfriend”, to which he simply replied “I don’t see him anywhere”.

You were soon going to resort to a well-timed uppercut, and though you did think the man deserved a good fist to the nose, you weren’t quite willing to resort to violence - yet.

You were ducking behind raised arms and navigating around bodies in an attempt to rid yourself of your tormentor when salvation came in the form of an unlikely classmate.

“Junior!” You whisper shouted - a name you heard many of his friends refer to him as - as you slid in between him and the bar he was lazily sat at; if you could call what he was doing sitting. He was perched, possibly less than half of each arse cheek actually on the stool, with both of his legs splayed out in a way that would get anyone else punched in the teeth for daring to take up so much room at a bar, but he blended in like he was simply part of the decor.

“Do I know you, sugar?” He drawled from the rim of his cup; green eyes scrutinizing you though he seemed no less pleased by your proximity due to his unfamiliarity with you.

“I- sorry, we have statistics together?”

Barty simply swallowed his sip and continued staring at you.

“Mondays and Wednesdays? 1:30 to 3:00?” You clarified.

He blinked slowly at that.

“With Professor Flitwick.”

“Yeah, yeah; third row from the back, prefers taking handwritten notes but insists on hauling your laptop ‘round with you too which acts as no more than a glorified paperweight. You have a fuzzy jumper that you wear almost everywhere.”

“I- well…yeah?”

“Right, so how does that bring us here?” He continued as if you had been the one making this conversation particularly difficult.

“I need you to pretend to be my boyfriend.” You blurted.

“Okay.” Barty agreed readily with a shrug as he placed his now empty cup on the bar. “Why?”

Stunned somewhat stupid by his willingness, you suddenly remembered that you had someone pursuing you.

“There’s this bloke-”

“Which bloke?” He cut you off, sliding one of his legs between both of yours before pulling you towards him so you were just about straddling his thigh.

In an attempt to hide your blush at Barty’s blaseness, and what you would later tell yourself was you simply trying to lean into the part of girlfriend, you nuzzled into Barty’s side to purvey the surrounding crowd.

“That guy there, with the beanie.” You whispered into his ear as you gestured towards the guy; swallowing the surprised yelp that threatened to escape your lips when you felt Barty’s possessive protective arm tighten around your middle.

“Well…” Barty murmured quietly, turning his chin back towards you; his lips hovering just over your collarbone. “That just won’t do, will it?”

You shook your head quickly, ignoring the racing of your heart, the way that the bass vibrated through your core, or the heat that was beginning to pool inside of you as he propped up his knee so that you were now officially straddling his thigh.

“Has he been bugging you, doll?” He asked lowly then, bringing his hand that wasn’t currently wrapped around your waist to push a lock of hair away from your face.

“He won’t leave me alone.” You whispered; finding yourself embarrassingly close to tears for the first time all night, simply because some random guy who showed up to perhaps half of your shared statistics classes (though he somehow still had perfect scores) was offering you his protection.

A sympathetic dent in between Barty’s eyebrows formed at your words as he pouted at you. “My poor girl.” He all but purred as he brought his face mere millimeters away from yours before bumping his nose to your own. “How do you want this to go?” He whispered.

“Whichever way it needs to so that he’ll leave me alone.”

Apparently not needing any further directions, Barty slotted your lips together with an intensity that had your head ringing as he pulled you higher up onto his lap; body’s so close you were almost certain you could feel his heartbeat in your own chest.

His hand that was wrapped around your waist started to slide up the back of your shirt where he rubbed the skin of your lower back, as the other rested just under your jaw, his touch far softer and more delicate than the way in which he kissed you.

You leaned further into him, whimpering at the sensation of your core sliding tantalizingly against his denim pants; the thin satiny material of your panties no match for the electricity of feeling so wholly consumed by Barty Crouch Junior.

You’d almost forgotten this was all a ruse when Barty abruptly pulled away from you.

“Oi! You got a fuckin’ problem?” He shouted at your stalker, garnering the attention of a few bar patrons around you.

You sunk impossibly further into Barty’s side at the attention, and relished in the gentle strokes he brushed at the skin of your hip in response.

“Is there a problem?” One of the bartenders barked then; looking a certain brand of intense you supposed was likely part of the training to be a bartender at a club in a college town.

“This tosser’s been bothering my girl all night.” Barty responded simply, weaseling his other arm around your middle as he returned his attention back to you. “You okay, sugar?”

You nodded at him and rested your forehead against his as you let out a steadying breath. “Thank you.”

Barty snorted at that. “‘Course, what kind of boyfriend would I be if I didn’t look out for my girl, hm?”

You chuckled breathlessly before smiling softly at him, noticing that he was doing the same as his emerald gaze darted between your eyes.

“Wanna get out of here?” He whispered as he dared to inch his hand further up your back.

God, did you ever.

1K notes · View notes

ikkyfics · 1 day ago

Text

What If It Was You?

dad!James Potter x f!teacher!reader

Summary: It all started innocently enough. James noticed how kind you were. But over time, he began to notice things he probably shouldn’t have. The way your hair fell over your shoulder as you wrote something on the board. The soft sound of your laughter. The way your eyes sparkled when you looked at Harry. And for a moment, James let that forbidden thought take shape again: you at home with them, laughing, caring, belonging.

Warnings: muggle!au, suggestive

Masterlist

The school gate was nearly empty when James finally arrived, the late afternoon sun tinting the sky with shades of orange and pink. He was late — again. The traffic, work, single father life… there were so many excuses, but none of them seemed enough when he thought of the disappointed look he might find on Harry's face.

He adjusted his glasses and took a deep breath, crossing the small stone path to the entrance. The place seemed incredibly quiet at this hour. He knew he should hurry, but his steps slowed when he saw you through the half-open door.

You were facing away from him, crouched down next to Harry, and the two of you were laughing at something he couldn’t hear. James felt a pang in his chest as he watched the scene — something he couldn’t name, but that grew with each passing day since you entered their lives.

It all started innocently enough. He noticed how kind you were, how you seemed to genuinely care for every child in the room. But over time, he began to notice things he probably shouldn’t have. The way your hair fell over your shoulder as you wrote something on the board. The soft sound of your laughter, which seemed to light up the room. The way your eyes sparkled when you looked at Harry, as if he were the center of the universe for a moment.

And then there was the damn ring question. James never knew exactly why his eyes sought your left hand, but they always did. Always. And every time he didn’t find a ring there, he felt a relief that left him ashamed of himself. But the shame was never enough to erase the relief. Today, however, a new and dangerous thought struck him. He didn’t just want your hand to stay ring-free. He wanted there to be a ring there. One that he had placed. One that told the world you were his, that you were part of the small world he and Harry shared. But then you looked up, and his eyes met yours. Reality hit like a cold splash of water. You smiled at him, that warm smile that made his stomach flip, and James felt as if all his thoughts were exposed in the air between you. “You’re just in time, Mr. Potter,” you said, your voice light and sweet, but with a teasing tone he recognized. “I thought Harry was going to demand I adopt him if you didn’t show up.” The sentence hit him hard, like an unexpected punch that left him breathless for a moment. Adopt him? The word echoed in James’s mind as he looked at you, feeling a sudden and overwhelming wave of thoughts he couldn’t contain. You adopting him. You, in their life, not just as Harry’s teacher, but as… something more. He blinked a few times, trying to process the whirlwind that had formed in his mind. A brief and intimate vision appeared, so clear he could almost feel it: you, sitting next to him at the dinner table, helping Harry with his homework. You laughing as Harry tried to explain a drawing he made at school. You holding a baby in your arms — his baby — with the same sweetness you gave to every child in that classroom. James felt the air getting trapped in his lungs, a heat rising to his face. He had never considered having another child. Life as a single father was already a minefield of challenges and surprises, and he always thought it would be enough with just him and Harry. But now… now he could picture himself looking at you with a mixture of fascination and love as you held a child with unruly hair and bright eyes — a perfect mix of him and you. Harry had already mentioned how he would like to have a sibling. And you would look beautiful. He knew that. He could see the image so clearly it made his chest tighten in a nearly painful way. You with a rounded belly, full of him, wearing one of those light dresses he thought suited you. He imagined himself placing a hand there, feeling the baby move under his fingers, and the thought hit him like an electric shock, making him avert his gaze for a moment, as if he could hide the intensity of his own desires.

“Mr. Potter?” Your voice called again, laced with a hint of concern, and James realized he had been silent for too long.

“Oh, of course,” he replied, clearing his throat and forcing a smile. He ran a hand through his hair, an automatic habit whenever he was nervous. “I hope he didn’t give you enough trouble to make you reconsider.”

“Not at all,” you said, and that gentle smile he adored returned. “Harry’s a sweetheart.”

James felt something in his chest tighten again, because he believed it. He knew how special Harry was, and knowing that you saw it too, that you treated his son with such care and affection, was more than he knew how to express.

For a moment, you two just looked at each other in silence, and the world around seemed to slow down. There was something in the way your eyes met his, as if a silent current of understanding and something more was passing between you. It was intimate. Warm. A spark he didn’t know how to extinguish.

“Dad, are you going to keep staring at her forever, or can we go home?”

Harry’s voice sliced through the silence like a blade, snapping them both back to reality. James blinked quickly, looking away and feeling the heat rise to his face. He looked at his son, who was staring at him with an impatient air, though there was a mischievous gleam in his eyes.

“Sorry, champ,” James replied, clearing his throat and letting out a nervous laugh. “I think I’m more tired than I thought.”

You laughed softly, and the sound was like music to his ears. “I think we’re all tired. Have a good night, Mr. Potter. Harry.”

“Good night!” Harry replied cheerfully, giving an enthusiastic wave while holding his father’s hand.

James looked at you one last time, struggling against the urge to prolong the interaction. But he knew he had to go, even though every part of him wished to stay just a little longer.

“Good night,” he said, his voice softer than he meant, before turning and starting to walk out with Harry.

As he left, he felt his son squeeze his hand and heard his excited voice say, “Dad, I really like her. I think she’d be a great mom.”

James stopped in his tracks, his heart leaping in his chest. He looked at Harry, who was staring at him with that disarming innocence only a child could have.

And for a moment, James let that forbidden thought take shape again: you at home with them, laughing, caring, belonging. He didn’t say anything, but squeezed Harry’s hand a little tighter, thinking that, no matter how impossible it seemed, he couldn’t agree more.

151 notes · View notes

mastermindmiko · 1 year ago

Text

Muggle world hideout

Pairing: Regulus Black + fem!reader

Word count: 6232

Summary: After stealing Voldemort's horcrux, Regulus seeks shelter as a normal boy in the muggle world.

Warnings: smut, hiding out from death eaters? kissing, teachers, university classes

an: it was time to have a regulus one out there

Hey! if you think this didn't completely suck, feel free to check out my masterlist

The bus ride throughout muggle London was always dull. He doesn’t regret the decision he’s made but he was still among magic; or at least some aspects of it. He had previously weighed his options and this was the best one; he still stands by this decision. He acquired the horcrux and from his first attempt to destroy it, Voldemort found out about his wishes and knowledge. He ran to muggle London to find a way to destroy it under a secret identity. It has been a month and no one from the wizarding world has found him. He knew he would be well hidden here.

One of the ways for him to stay under a normal teen identity was to do the same things that they do. At his age, muggle children usually go to university. He knew of no such thing, he assumed it was the muggle NEWTs; considering that he found out that OWLs are similar to O levels. However, he needed to blend in; so he decided to do the same. He had bought a flat in a random place, in the city. His father died a bit before he acquired the horcrux, so had his inheritance money. He had a lot of it, and considering that one sickle is almost six euros; he didn’t have to worry about running out of money any time soon.

After a lot of research and awkward interactions from his neighbor -the same one that told him about universities and o levels-, he found a university. He applied late -as they told him- and after a lot of persuasion they agreed to let him enter. He just needed to tell them what his major should be on the first day, which just so happened to be today.

He sat in the back, right corner of the bus; and he felt the bus stop once again. He thought it was the last stop considering that there were only two seats empty, both of which were beside him. He looked out the window to approve his assumptions and he saw the prettiest girl he’s ever seen. She stood up and he found himself mentally chanting, hoping that she would get on the bus. He didn’t know why he did that, the fact was almost completely confirmed without his manifestations. When she stepped inside, he had a neutral facial expression; but his heart was leaping. It never had done that before.

He had no one idea what to pursue, he knew that the war wasn’t ending any time soon; and that his money wasn’t infinite. So he had to find a muggle job. He couldn’t tell them about his excellence and liking for potions, therefore he was stumped. He had no idea what muggle majors are, was there some type of auror?

The bus ride to the university was dull. They kept stopping at what he assumed were bus stops, and the people were less than friendly. The people reminded him of the families that were at his parents’ balls. They looked at his clothes weirdly, even though what he was wearing was considered very fashionable. He ignored their gazes, looking poised. He had many years to learn that skill, and he intends to use it.

You sat in your usual seat, beck, left corner in the bus. You saw the most gorgeous man, one seat away from yours. He was looking at you and the sun covered half his face, if anything it added to his beauty. You were most intrigued by the scar he had above his eyebrow and it looked painful. You averted your gaze from the scar, you didn’t want to seem rude. He was wearing odd clothes, but you were sure that they were incredibly luxurious and up to trend about a hundred years ago. You had found yourself a history geek and you couldn’t say you weren’t one. Finally assessing his gaze on you, you smiled at him. He didn’t return it, but you could see the corners of his lips turn up slightly.

You sat down, and you got out your poetry book. You started reading William Blake’s poems. You were supposed to pick your favorite poem and write an essay about it, filled with everything you could possibly talk about; concerning the poem. The assignment was given at the orientation to be handed in at the first session of the Poetry course. Your mind couldn’t fathom the beautiful words of ‘Auguries of Innocence’ due to the new presence of the pretty boy beside you.

“What’s your major?” He asked, looking at you. The unfamiliar words tasted weird on his tongue. There were a few beats of silence until he raised his eyebrow and you realized he was talking to you. “Um, English Literature and Political Science.” You answered. You weren’t able to pick between the two, so you simply chose both.

“That’s two?”

You hummed melodically indicating a yes and he nodded in understanding. He looked out the window and you contemplated either mirroring his actions or adding more to the conversation, though you could hardly call it that. “What about you?” you asked as you watched him write something down on a piece of paper. The way he held his pen was abnormal, but you paid no mind to it.

“Same thing.” He replied, he finished writing his chosen major on the paper. He was sure that if he didn’t write it, he would forget it. It was a weird invention, the pen. It was much more practical, he agreed with that; but he wasn’t used it. Therefore, he kept reaching out to dip it in ink, when there wasn't any. He had to remind himself that the ink was in the pen and that he couldn’t just take out a quill and ink pot.

You furrowed your eyebrows at the answer. You enjoyed the thought of being able to see his pretty face, but how had you not seen him before. You cracked your mind for answers, and then you asked, “Were you at the orientation?”

“No, I applied late.” There were no orientations at Hogwarts, he didn’t know such a thing existed; until the people at the admissions office told him that he missed it. You bit the insides of your cheeks and you nodded. You were able to take a hint, he was giving you short answers so he obviously didn’t want to talk to you. Suddenly, the unattractive scenery outside the bus seemed much more appealing; even though you had seen this road a million times before.

“What’s that?” He nodded towards the blank paper and book on your lap. You looked at them quickly then back at him. “That’s um the assignment that’s due today.” You said slowly, then added “That I didn’t do.” You heard a noise that sounded like a laugh, but you weren’t sure from how quickly it went and came.

“Am I supposed to do this assignment?” You nodded your head as a reply. You looked at the empty seat between you both, and said “Do you mind?”

“Not at all.”

You took the seat and you started to explain the task. You found out that ‘Regulus’ -you complimented his name when you found out- is taking the same courses as you are. He was scribbling some things down furiously, but you paid no mind to it. You offered to take a tour around campus and he agreed. As Regulus sat in the bus with you, he thought that maybe bus rides wouldn’t be as dull anymore.

***

“We have exactly 15 minutes until class starts.” You said as you checked your wrist watch. You were sitting on one of the benches surrounded by greenery. “You should probably head to the class, you wouldn’t want to be late on your first day.”

“Isn’t this your first day too?” Regulus said as he finished writing his essay, cleanly on another piece of paper. He insisted that he doesn’t hand in the scribbling paper that he used for the first draft of his paper. He finished writing his essay down freshly and he chose the poem ‘London’.

You nodded as you stood up “Yeah, but I’m not really punctual so I’m going to be late a lot throughout the year. I wouldn’t want to give the teacher expectations, so might as well be late from the start.” You smiled at him when you finished the sentence. In the past hour and a half you’ve grown quite both fond and comfortable with Regulus.

“I’ll save a seat for you.” He said, as he placed his essay in his bag. You nodded as thanks, and you started walking away from him. “See you in class!” You shouted even though you were not far enough for him to not hear you if you spoke normally. You winked at him then spun around to talk to other people around you. His heart skipped but he paid no mind to it as he walked around to find the room that he’s supposed to be in.

When he finally found the classroom he sat on one of the chairs in the middle, and he placed his book bag beside him to save you a seat. The teacher had already started talking about the overview of the course. She also stated how much he hates people who don’t take their classes seriously and Regulus assumed that you were in trouble.

You stumbled into the classroom and the teacher stopped talking to look at you disapprovingly. “Sorry, I’m late” The teacher hummed and you started walking to your seat. “The essay, if you remembered.”

You spun around taking your essay out of your bag and handing it to the teacher. She looked at it with a raised eyebrow. The handwriting was messy and ink was spilled around it, anyone could barely tell where a paragraph starts and ends. She could tell you finished it late, and she assumed that you were late because you were finishing it. She took it from your hands and placed it on her desk. Your eyes scanned the room for Regulus and you found him and the empty seat beside him. You walked to him and sat beside him.

“Not a very good first impression is it?” He leaned closer to you and he looked at you as the teacher started talking once again. You turned your head to look at him and you smirked. You shrugged your shoulders as you realised your faces were close, too close. You saw his eyes trail down to your lips and you bit the inside of your cheek.

“I do not tolerate laziness and people who don’t take assignments seriously.” You looked at the teacher and you found out that she was looking at you. Regulus snickered slightly so when the teacher averted her gaze from you, you elbowed him roughly.

You leaned to whisper something in his ear, “What are you doing tonight?” You looked at him, hopefully. You had some ideas planned, if he wasn’t free today; maybe he’d be free someday else.

He looked at you and said “Nothing that can’t be rescheduled.” You smiled and you looked back at your notes. You scribbled an invite on the sticky note and then you discreetly placed it on Regulus’ desk. He furrowed his eyebrows then he read your note. A smile was on his face when he nodded. You returned the smile. You had something to do today.

His robes were completely wet as was his hair. He was, however, most sad about his ruined ice cream. When it started raining both of you headed inside the closest shop and it happened to be an ice cream shop. You ordered Vanilla and Regulus ordered Chocolate. He seemed cautious tasting the dessert but he liked it so much, he ordered another cone. He paid for both of you and you thanked him as you enjoyed your dessert.

***

You were walking down the road with Regulus beside you. You both had ice cream in your hands. The world smelt like petrichor, because of how it rained today. The busses and cars’ wheels were splashing around in the water and you were careful not to get soaked. You couldn’t say the same thing about Regulus. He was closer to the street, and you couldn’t say that you didn’t put him there on purpose.

After the rain settled you decided to head to the next stop on your journey, which Regulus didn’t know. You were surprised at the courage he had following you around, not asking where you’re even heading. It seemed weird to you, how both of you could get so close without even knowing each other for a decent 12 hours.

He looked at his soaked ice cream with sadness, but the scene was still hilarious. He heard you burst out laughing at how he looked. He could only imagine how he must’ve looked. He looked in envy at your completely dry tasty looking ice cream, but he laughed at the situation shortly after. He loved your laughs, he was sure he never heard anything as beautiful. It seemed ironic the situation that he was in. In all of his years he never even so much looked at a person in a romantic aspect even though he had the chance to do so on multiple occasions. However, now, not even having spent a day with you, he feels like he’s falling hard. He’s still slightly grateful that meeting you happened now, when he believed that pureblood supremacy was complete bullshit. The last thing he could’ve wanted is meeting you when he had all this pent up prejudice, and pushing you away.

After both your laughter died down, you made a change in plan. Instead of going to the movies now, you’ll go to the clothes shop. You spun around and started to go in the opposite direction. He was surprised and quickly tried to reach in step with you. He asked “Where are we going?”

“I’m abducting you.” You said with a smirk. A flash of fear flashed through his eyes, and you quickly added, “You just finally asked where I’m taking you. We’re going to the clothes shop.”

He raised one eyebrow and he asked “Why would we do that?”

“Well because you said you didn’t want to attract any attention-” You started as you recalled the conversation you had with him while you were showing him the campus. “And let me tell you with the clothes that you’re wearing, you couldn’t attract any more attention. Honestly, where did you live before uni? The 17th century!”

He laughed at your statement, and he let you continue. “So we’re going to get you some normal clothes.” He nodded along with you and he placed his clean spoon in his pocket along with his other hand. You suddenly put your hand out in front of you and he looked at you in confusion. You motioned for him to give you whatever he hand, and he gave you his spoon. You placed it in your ice cream as you said “Eat it with me-” You saw him open his mouth to protest but you said “You paid the least I could do is let you eat with me, considering the tragic death of your own ice cream.”

He chuckled and proceeded to do exactly that. You both eating together cause you both to be close to each other. Somewhere along the road Regulus decided that bumping arms wasn’t comfortable for him anymore so he linked your arms together. You were glad that it was night time so he couldn’t see your face flush.

“Yes.”

***

The next session, you were actually late. You tried to enter the class discreetly, but you were stopped by the teacher. “Miss Y/L/N”

“Do you think this class is a joke? Why are you late again? This is going into your file-” the teacher rambled more about your lack of punctuality but after a lot of experience you learned how to tune teachers out quite well. You were smart and you knew that. You just didn’t enjoy doing the homework and you had a problem with time. Time is relative, so why is she making a big deal out of this?

You heard silence so you managed to reply with the same answer that seemed to satisfy every teacher. “I’m sorry, I’ll try harder next time.” You learned that there was no use of fighting with teachers like this. You heard a few people chuckle lightly. They were with you in other courses, so they heard you answer this many times before. They weren’t surprised in the slightest.

She hummed, approving of your answer and you couldn’t help but smirk. She motioned for you to sit and you walked to your place that Regulus once again saved for you. He looked great in the clothes you helped him pick out, then again he would look good in a potato sack. You smiled at him and he gave you a tight lipped smile. You queried your eyebrow, questioning his weird attitude. He lifted his paper and he showed you a D on the essay he did. You gave him a sympathetic smile and you looked on your desk, you couldn’t find your essay anywhere.

Regulus placed a sticky note on your desk, and it said ‘can you tutor me?’ You looked at him weirdly and you scribbled back ‘how do you know that I’m good enough to do that?’ He smirked at your answer and he tilted his head towards the person that was giving people papers.

“As you should know by now, I pick the best essay to discuss with the class; so everyone can learn from good examples.” You received your paper with a big A star. “We’re going to be discussing Miss Y/L/N’s essay.” She didn’t look at you throughout the lesson.

You leaned towards Regulus and you said “I swear I don't know if that woman loves or hates me.”

“I think it depends.” He replied, and he looked at you with a fond smile. He used legilimency on the teacher before you entered the class. “Congratulations by the way.” He whispered. You shrugged your shoulders, “It’s not a big deal.”

“It is, so will you tutor me?”

It’s March now. Your courses have been going well, and tutoring Regulus has been great for both of you. You both knew that he didn’t need any tutoring, but you couldn’t stop spending extra time with him. It wasn’t like he was complaining much anyway. “Are you going to the party tomorrow?”

“Meet me in the library after all our courses. Oh and by the way, you look great.”

***

“Uh, party?” He asked as you both waited for the elevator to reach the fifth floor. Your arms were brushing against each other, and you could feel butterflies erupt in your stomach. He linked your arms again, it seemed like a habit he developed; and you enjoyed it more than you would care to admit. Since September you had completely fallen for him.

“Yeah star, we finished exams. So they’re throwing a party tomorrow.” You said, you enjoyed the nickname that you gave him after your first tutoring session. He told you that it was a family thing, being named after stars and constellations; and you thought it was completely adorable. So you couldn’t resist calling him star. He doesn’t open up much about his family, but you don’t push him. You can tell that it bothers him. After he disappeared for two months, December and January; he came back much happier. He tried to gain your forgiveness after leaving suddenly without any warning, and eventually he succeeded; you couldn’t stay mad at him for long anyway.

“Are you going?” He asked, looking at you. Voldemort was defeated back in January. His brother and the Order contacted him after they discovered the Hocroux secret, and he was glad to help. He didn’t know how his brother found him, but since all the Marauders spend a lot of time in the muggle world, it wouldn’t be too far-fetched. It felt like this enormous weight was lifted off his shoulders, and that he was finally free to do whatever he liked. His parents were dead but he didn’t care that much anyway, he got his share of his inheritance and so did his brother. After they put Pettigrew in Azkaban they wanted a fourth honorary Marauder, and Sirius wanted him to fill the spot. His relationship with Sirius was mended, and Sirius wanted him to stay in the new place he bought along with Lupin, but he declined the offer. You were here,and it wasn’t like you could go to the wizarding world without being married to him first. It was already bad enough spending two months without you, let alone the rest of his life. “I’m going if you’re going.” You replied.

You looked up at him and he looked at you. “I’m going then.” You smiled at him and you nodded. You assessed his face for a while longer, you always did that. Regulus’ heart would beat irregularly when you do. It’s annoying how much he likes you. From the stupid, irresponsible way you are never on time, to the way you always look up when looking out of a window. He doesn’t know why you do that, most people look at the ground or the buildings; but you look at the sky and clouds. What is so interesting up there anyway? There weren’t any birds or any planes. He felt blessed in every way to have someone like you, be near him; and he honestly thought he didn't deserve to have you as a friend, let alone a lover. You reached for the scar above his eyebrow, you don’t know this but he got it from the inferi attack. It’s a constant reminder of what he has to go to. What he has done. He’s able to place a concealment charm on his dark mark, but when he placed the same charm on his scar, it made his vision blurry. He also didn’t mind how close you were every time you looked at it.

“It looks like it hurt.” You whispered, softly as you touched his scar. He hissed and you quickly pulled your fingers away. You heard him whisper, “That’s cause it did.”

You sighed and you continued to look at it. Your eyebrows furrow as you thought of all the possibilities that could have caused the scar. Regulus saw your expression and he sighed. He has never felt insecure about his face, he knew he was good looking. He shared that with Sirius, the big ego. When he got the scar, he just thought it looked ugly. He hoped you didn’t think the same, “It looks hideous doesn’t it?”

Your eyes flashed to his, and you tilted your head slightly in confusion. He was leaning slightly so you could be closer to him. He always did that, another habit he developed around you. You looked into his eyes, that you loved so much. It seemed like such an odd thing for someone’s favorite color to be gray, but you knew it wouldn’t seem that odd if they saw his eyes. If you could look into them forever you would, you didn’t know that he wished to do the same thing with your’s. “I think the opposite actually.”

The elevator music might have ruined the intimate atmosphere, but you leaned on the tips of your toes and you pressed your lips to his. He kissed you back immediately, and you pulled him closer by his neck. You were kissing each other passionately. You pulled him by his shirt and you placed your tongue in his mouth. He grabbed your hips and pulled you closer. You pulled away to breathe properly. You looked into his eyes and his hair was ruffled and you assumed yours was the same.

The door opened and you realised it was the third floor. His face was neutral, so you assumed that he didn’t like you. He just liked to kiss you, you knew you were a good kisser; so maybe that was it. Maybe you read the situation completely wrong. You walked out the elevator, and it wasn’t even the floor you needed to be on. You’ll just take the stairs.

Your eyes unintentionally searched the room for Regulus, and your eyes connected from across the room. He was leaning back on the couch, his legs spread apart, and his hand resting on the couch’s arm rest. Your mind ran with the sight, and you could tell he was doing the same when his eyes trailed your body, and he liked his lips. You could feel your stomach churn and with the added liquid courage, you walked to him.

***

You didn’t even know why you’re here right now. The alcohol was burning down your throat, however you were very conscious of your surroundings. Your friend told you yesterday that Regulus told her that he needed to talk to you. You didn’t even know if he was going to be here, but you were and you hoped he was too.

“You said you wanted to talk to me.” You said as you sat beside him on the couch. He hummed, looking at you with his wonderful gray eyes. “I like you-” Your eyes widened, “I really like you and I-” You cut him off with his lips on yours.

You put your hands on his shoulders with an intent to pull him closer, but he pulled away slightly. He assumed you wanted to push him away and that you were rethinking your decisions. However, the thought was out of his head when your finger went to his neck. You wrapped your hands around his neck and you pulled him closer, attaching your lips together.

He bit your lips and he pulled your lips to insert his tongue in your mouth. His tongue massaged yours and yours explored his mouth. He put his hands on your waist and he started to let his hands trail down when your kissing intensified. When his hands reached your hips, he pulled you on his lap, and you could feel a prominent bulge in his pants.

You let out a breathy sigh when your heat was over his bulge. You were on top of him so you couldn’t kiss him properly because of the angles on your lips. You lifted his chin with your thumbs and you kissed him feverishly. You could feel his own thumbs tracing heavy circles on your hips. It was arousing so your breathing rate increased.

Even Though you could clearly feel his hard cock through his pants, you wanted to turn him on more. So you ‘innocently’ ran your fingers through the hair on the nape of his neck while keeping your thumbs on his neck. You waited a bit, trying to get that perfect element of surprise; then you pulled his hair and squeezed his neck. He let out a loud sound between a groan and a choke. You were shocked by his reaction and you felt yourself getting wetter.

His eyes were wider than yours indicating that he didn’t know he could feel or do that. You could feel his cock twitch under you and you let out a breathy sigh that hitched. His hands went under your thighs and you squeezed them tightly. He stood up and you hooked your ankles behind his hips. He kissed you with great passion as he took you to an empty bedroom.

He threw you on the bed and you heard the bed creak loudly. He took off his shirt and he crawled over to you as he connected your lips together. His hands roamed your body and when he reached your chest, he squeezed one of your breasts. “Take them off.” You ordered and he took off your shirt and unhooked your bra gladly.

He took a moment to look over your body and he said “You’re so gorgeous.” Your panties were uncomfortably wet and you were impatient. “Then fucking touch me then.” you said, and he didn’t waste a second kissing, squeezing and sucking all over your chest. You took off your pants and panties, when you couldn’t stand the wetness anymore.

When you were entirely naked, he couldn’t stop admiring your body. Your face was flushed, your hair a mess and your chest was littered with love bites. He could’ve cum on the sight. His eyes trailed down to your wet pussy, and he looked at your glistening juices running down your thighs. He closed his mouth because he was sure he would drool if he kept it open. “Sit on my face.” He said laying down beside you.

“What?!” You said flushing a deep red. He rolled his eyes and he started to grasp your thighs. “I want to eat you out as you ride my face.” You didn’t speak for a while so he added “Only if you want to of course.” The reason for your silence wasn’t because you didn’t want to but because you really wanted to.

You aligned your entrance with his mouth. You placed both your thighs away from his face, the last thing you wanted was for him to run out of air in the middle of sucking your clit. Usually, Regulus would have kissed and bit your thighs, teasing you for a bit; but as soon as he smelt your arousal, he couldn’t wait to taste you. He liked a bold strip gathering all your juices that were leaking out.

Your legs shook and you got a small taste of what was going to happen in the next few seconds. You placed one of your hands on the head board of the bed and you threaded the other through regulus’ hair. The first was for stability and the second was for teasing. He started liking and sucking softly, making you feel impatient with how much he was taking his time.

You started to grind on his face and you could barely hear the bed creak when his nose would brush against your clit and you would moan. When you started riding his face, he got the hint and he started eating you out at a relentless pace. He grabbed your thighs and moved you faster. You were a moaning mess and your thighs were clenching around the sides of his face.

Regulus didn’t care that he could barely breathe. The prettiest girl he’s ever seen is riding his face, making the most beautiful voices he’s ever heard; and she’s the sweetest thing he’s ever tasted. As far as he was concerned, he was in heaven. His cock was painfully hard in his pants, he only started to feel it when you moaned his name loudly. He let go of one of your thighs and slipped his hand under his trousers. He was panting under you as he palmed himself, but it was all very much worth it.

“Ohh, Regulus!” You came harder than you ever did before from someone’s tongue. You could feel him swallowing all your cum and you felt his tongue run lines across your thighs, you assumed it was the remains of your cum that slipped down your thighs. When you came off his face, he had the most blissful expression on his face.

“You have to let me do that again. You taste like heaven.” Your eyes trailed down his body and you could no longer see a bulge . His cock was slipped out of his pants and underwear and you could see his cum around his cock. “Only if you let me return the favor sometime.” You could see his cock twitch at the thought. “You’re so messy. I can’t have you inside me like that.” You tutted and started to get up, away from the bed. He started to get up with you, eyes wide. “I’ll just have to clean you up.”

He placed his head back on the pillow and he was about to reach out to stroke his cock when you grabbed his wrist. “No touching.” You started to come closer to his cock, you pulled off his pants and underwear. You only smirked as you started to run your fingers up and down his cock. “You’re going to be the death of me.” You heard him both whisper and groan. You could only smirk and you started to feel him harden underneath your fingers.

You leaned down slightly and you looked up at him. His eyes connected with yours and he looked absolutely angelic. It was wonderful seeing him all messed up unlike his usual calm aura. You took his tip into your mouth, where most of the cum was gathered. He moaned when you licked his thighs and around his cock. He assumed you were going to give him head, you weren’t. You were simply doing what you said you were, cleaning him up. You gave him a few seconds to catch his breath and when you heard his breathing start to regulate, you took him in fully. You sucked, hard as his tip hit the back of your throat. He screamed loudly, and you were sure the entire party heard it. You clenched your thighs together.

Regulus was more vocal than you thought and you were loving it. His fingers threaded through your hair and you thought he was going to fuck your face; but you were pulled awya from his cock. “I want to be inside you, the first time I cum from you.”

“Needy for me, already.”

“Just hurry up.” He groaned and you were enjoying the power you had over him, so you added. “No really. Tell me how much you want me. How much you want to be inside me. Tell me darling, how many times did you touch yourself thinking of me-”

You were quickly flipped around and he thrust himself inside you. You screamed at the sudden force. He stopped waiting for you to adjust to his size as he leaned down to whisper “When I say hurry up, it means hurry up.” He started thrusting into you slowly, you heard the bed creak again; but you didn’t mind it. The pain turned into pleasure. So you started moaning “Faster.”

He obliged and he started to move quicker and quicker. When he hit your g-spot, you clenched around him tighter. “You’re so fucking tight.” You were sure he was moaning louder than you. You now considered that you were fucking him not the other way around. He kept repeatedly hitting the same spot until you started to see stars. He thrusted harder, and quicker, trying to get you through your high. However, just when you were about to finish cumming he started to cum too. You were on birth control so it wasn’t a problem. He was almost finished when the bed broke. You both tumbled on the floor as one of the legs broke.

He was still inside you when you said “How the hell are we going to fix this?” He chuckled as he pulled out of you, you hissed slightly. “Never mind that, how are we going to explain it?”

“There won’t be a need to explain anything. You were screaming loud enough that they heard you already.” You smirked, as you saw his cheeks turn redder.

“We should do that again sometime.” He said and he looked around the room for a glass of water. When he found it, he gave it to you. He cleaned you up and he placed the amount of money that was enough for the bed on it.

When you were walking out the building, he asked, “Do you want to stay with me tonight?” You looked at him before you said “Gee, star. Take me out on a date first.”

“We just fucked and you think that spending the night would be rash. Besides we can do that date thing tomorrow, I just want to hold you right now.” Your heart skipped a couple of beats. You nodded along with him, agreeing.

Walking back to Regulus’ flat reminded you of the first day you both met. You were now the one walking near the street, and he was far away from it. You knew he did it on purpose, even though it hasn’t rained lately, he still feels the need to make you pay somehow. Your arms were linked when he grabbed your other hand, and said “There’s something important I need to tell you when we get there.”

“That you love me?”

He smirked at how big your ego was sometimes. It wasn’t like he was any different, he thought of what it would be like when you meet his brother and Potter. Lupin would throw himself out the window. “Something else, but you have to promise you won’t send me to an insane asylum.”

You raised the hand that wasn’t connected with his and you said “I won’t. Consider it as thanks that you still haven’t sent me there yet.” He placed a kiss on your hand, and he said “I do, by the way.” you quirked your eyebrow. “Love you, I mean.”

545 notes · View notes

mischievousmoony · 5 months ago

Text

𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚗𝚎𝚠 𝚑𝚒𝚛𝚎

𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝟻 ⟡ 𝚜𝚒𝚕𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚎

⟢ james potter x fem!reader

⟢ summary: modern restaurant au; you and james complete side work at the end of your shift . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁2.1k

⟢ warnings/tags: coworker!james, coworker!marauders, anxious!reader, not rlly proofread

⟢ the new hire masterlist ⟡ main masterlist

note: dropping lore in this part ig

"I don't think this restaurant is fancy enough for this to be necessary," you huff, polishing what seems like your millionth spoon.

You're sitting at the rickety break room table, polishing silverware and rolling sets of them into cloths. James is across from you, looking at his reflection in a butter knife.

"No one who eats here is going to care if there are a few water stains on their spoons," you grumble. You're in a bit of a bad mood, this task being the only thing keeping you from going home.

"Nate wants this place to be fancier than it is. Always has," James replies, neatly arranging his knife with the other utensils on the cloth in front of him.

"Always, huh?" you wonder, "Has he always been the manager?"

"As long as I've been here."

"And how long is that?"

"Ah," James pauses in the middle of rolling his napkin, counting in his head, "Technically five years."

You stop in the middle of polishing a fork, looking up to meet James' gaze. "What? Really?" you ask.

James shrugs as if it's nothing, responding, "Started as a busser when I was seventeen. The only person who's been here longer is Remus."

You don't understand the relevance of the comparison, pointing out, "Well, he's older."

James looks at you puzzled, "Remus and I are the same age."

You put the fork down entirely, gaping at James. "Remus is twenty-two?" you ask, your tone conveying your shock.

"Yeah," James says slowly, furrowing his brows, "You didn't know that?"

"No. He looks at least a few years older."

James tilts his head side to side, pondering your comment. "Maybe a little," he admits. "That kitchen wears him down."

You look puzzled as you straighten out the fork you had dropped down on the table, thinking about the revelation that still doesn't quite add up to you.

"If he's our age how in the world is he already a head chef?"

James looks as if he's trying to recall the answer, but comes up short.

"You'd have to ask him. He was hired before me and I guess I never thought to ask that."

"He was a head chef at seventeen?" you ask, eyes widening as your shock doubles.

"No! No, he just worked in the kitchen. Think he was head chef by twenty, though."

"Oh..." you trail off, thinking that makes much more sense than your initial impression. But not by very much. "Still, wow. What about everyone else?"

James' eyebrows raise curiously as he starts polishing yet another spoon.

"What do you mean?"

"They've been here how long?" you clarify.

"Ah. Sirius started about a month after I did. Did you know he started as a server?" James shares the details like it's hot gossip.

To you, it basically is. You can't imagine Sirius doing anything besides bartending at this restaurant.

"Really?"

James smiles at the way your eyes light up in surprise and slight amusement. "Yeah," he confirms. "He absolutely hated it, but doing that he got to train with the bartender before him."

You nod understandingly. It makes sense, you suppose. Bartenders don't just appear out of thin air. You either have to work your way up the ranks or receive formal training, and if you had ever given it any thought, you would have assumed the former.

It dawns on you that you haven't given much thought to your other coworkers at all. Besides what you've naturally found out over the handful of weeks that you've worked here, you don't know much about anyone besides James.

"And the others?"

James blows out some air, thinking, and he takes two rolls of silverware and begins using them as drumsticks against the table. You smile a little at the action.

"Whenever I became a server I recommended Pete for my old busser job. That was probably four years ago."

James had told you stories about him and Peter before, but you wonder how long they've actually known each other.

"How did you know Peter?"

"Known him since primary school."

"Huh," you express your surprise quietly, and James continues on.

"The next hire was Marlene," James smirks as he recalls something. "Actually, she's the reason Lily and Mary were hired."

"Did she recommend them too?"

James chuckles, shaking his head as he explains, "No, Marlene was always complaining about too much testosterone in this place. I think five.. six months after she started, she told Nate that a customer said that they thought management must be sexist because of the lack of girl hires."

"Did someone actually say that?" you ask skeptically.

"No," James laughs, "He totally bought it though cause he hired Lily and Mary a week later. Worked out great for them in the end. You know they go to uni in the city? They’re both here to support themselves through it.”

Your bottom lip finds itself between your teeth as you think about how long everyone has worked here. They’ve all had years to get to know each other. You have already been feeling like an outsider, so learning this just amplifies that tenfold.

James puts his makeshift drumsticks away when he notices you getting lost in thought.

“What’s on your mind?”

Your eyes flash to him, startled out of your train of thought. Shrugging, you try to brush it off and return to your duties to the silverware.

“C’mon, I always know when you’re getting lost in that head of yours,” James says with a teasing yet affectionate tone.

You purse your lips, knowing the chances of James letting this go are slim.

"I just… I don't really know much about them at all I guess. Do they..." you trail off, apprehensive to admit your insecurities.

"What?" James probes gently, softening at your hesitation.

"I’m worried they don't like me,” you admit.

"What!? Why? You’re great! Why wouldn’t anyone like you?” James says it earnestly without a hint of hesitation, and that alone makes you feel a bit better.

You keep your hands busy with the silverware, your eyes focusing intently on the water stains you polish away so that you don’t have to face James as you explain.

“I feel like I haven’t made much of an effort to get to know them. I was nervous, I guess, to talk to new people. Now I’m even more nervous because it’s been so long and I haven’t even tried. They’re going to think–”

“Hey, hey, hey,” James stops you from snowballing into a self-deprecating ramble, placing a hand over yours across the table, also stopping the way you’re polishing a spoon to death.

He dips his head down to try to meet your eyes, which are trained intently on the table. “No one thinks anything,” he says patiently. “Actually, you know what I’ve heard? I’ve heard them say that you’re kind. Maybe a tad shy, but that’s not a bad thing!” The last few words tumble out in a rush, James being worried that you’d take it negatively when he really finds your timid nature so endearing.

Your gaze slowly shifts to meet his eyes. “It’s hard for me to warm up to new people,” you admit, your voice low.

James absentmindedly strokes the back of your hand with his thumb, “You got on with me just fine.”

“You’re different,” you say before you can give it much thought. You would’ve bit your tongue if you had.

“How am I different?” he asks, his eyes twinkling with something you can’t quite place.

“I-I don’t know you just are.”

It’s true, you’re not sure why but after your first day you were already comfortable with James, more than comfortable if you’re being honest. He quickly became your favorite part about this job.

He simply accepts your answer. Normally, he’d say something witty or teasing, but he finds himself at a loss for words.

The conversation fades into silence, neither of you knowing how to proceed, both overwhelmed with confusing feelings.

James can’t stop looking at where his hand rests over yours, not knowing how to retract it. Not wanting to.

Meanwhile, you search your brain for something to say, something that would change the subject. You don’t feel the need to keep talking about this anyway. Although, you’re not sure if you feel better about the situation with your other coworkers or if you’ve just been distracted from it.

“So, five years, huh?” you start.

"Technically," he emphasizes. He slowly retracts his hand as the conversation takes on a more casual tone.

You had barely even noticed his hand there with how natural it felt, but now that it’s gone your hand almost feels cold. You distract yourself by rolling more silverware.

"What does that mean?" you ask.

"I, er, pursued other things for a little while. Didn't work out, so I ended up back here."

You can’t help but wonder what he means, so you ask, "What things?"

James stammers, him now the apprehensive one.

"Sorry,” you say quickly, “I don't mean to pry."

"No, it's okay,” James waves off your worries, “I was playing rugby."

“What, like, professionally?” you ask, not expecting him to say yes.

“Er, yeah," he admits, twirling a butter knife in between his fingers.

You freeze. “Wait. Seriously?”

“Yes,” he chuckles airily.

He notices how your mouth is slightly agape, twitching as it forms the shape of words which never leave your lips. He can tell you’re wondering what happened, but you’re too polite to ask.

“I hurt my knee,” he continues, purposefully avoiding the specifics, “so ended up back here.”

Your face crumples in sympathy. "Oh. Oh, I-I'm sorry," you say, genuine compassion in your tone.

“It’s fine. I’ve come to terms with it," James says honestly. His career was brief— barely even got a chance to start— and while he'll always wonder what could've been, he's not angry about the way his life is turning out.

"So what about you? What would you be doing if you didn't work here?" James suddenly asks you.

"I never went to uni," you say, thinking of Lily and Mary— your age and likely almost done with their studies. "I would've liked to. I don't even know what for."

"You still could."

"Yeah, maybe," you say tentatively, rolling you're last set of cutlery. "That's all my side work. Want me to help with yours?"

"No, you get out of here, I'll be alright," James assures, not wanting to put extra work on your plate, recalling how annoyed you've been with this task.

You nod, standing from the table to collect your things from your locker. You bid him goodbye as you sling your bag over your shoulder.

"I'll see you tomorrow, James."

"Bye, love," he says fondly, waving with a fork in his hand as you go.

On your way out, you pass Sirius, giving him a small wave and a barely audible "goodnight" as he joins James in the break room.

"Night, doll," he calls down the hall as he turns into the room.

Sirius has a wide, knowing smirk on his face when he locks eyes with James.

"Rolling silverware?" Sirius asks, his tone dripping with his amusement.

James shrugs, "Yeah, so?"

Sirius tilts his head, chuckling, "I thought your side work was to prep garnishes today."

"Ah," James fumbles with some silverware as he responds, "I finished that ages ago. So, I offered to do Lily's side work."

"Oh, did you?" Sirius says with mock surprise.

"Yup. Just doing a favor for a friend," James grins innocently.

"Or trying to get some alone time with that work crush of yours."

"I do not have a work crush!" James quickly defends, feeling the heat rising to his cheeks. He almost feels guilty, Sirius is at least right about the alone time part. James still misses having you by his side as a trainee, but after you're conversation today he feels bad about stealing you away from your other coworkers.

Sirius raises his hands in the air, "Alright, mate. Whatever you say."

"You're a prat. Why don't you come help me with this?"

Sirius looks incredulous at the suggestion, "I'm not the one who volunteered to do extra work!"

James rolls his eyes, picking up one of the many forks he has left. But truth be told, he didn't quite mind having to do the extra work— spending time with you made it well worth it.

Sirius snorts at the sudden lovesick look on James' face when he gets lost in his thoughts, and makes a mental note to wager a bet with Remus tomorrow on how long James will last.

217 notes · View notes