#my sad james does something to me

[calamitoustide]

okay so i've switched over to the road trip fic I'm gonna think about that forever now thinking about the night James fell in love with Regulus for the first time when Reg got drunk and was smiling because he was texting with Kingsley and James just thought he looked so pretty even in the shitty parking lot lights and he didn't know and didn't care who Regulus was messaging with because he just looked so fucking pretty thinking about when they went to the grand canyon on the second day of the trip and James explained how they weren't afraid of heights anymore because they "found something scarier" and the thing they were scared of wasn't dying, it wasn't even living, it was the urge that they had to die, and also the fear that they'd have to keep on feeling that way forever. and then when they went and got tattoos James told Reg that their fear of needles was the "only one they couldn't beat," and they kinda viewed it as the little bit of themself that still wanted to live. why be scared of anything when you want death? why be scared of heights when you wouldn't mind what happened if you reached the bottom of it? but needles, they couldn't get past, it was the last thing they were clinging onto. And Reg not knowing told them, "you'll beat it today." Thinking about when they were at Marlene's and it finally set in that James was going to be gone when the trip was over, and they wanted Regulus so badly but they wanted to die more so they just apologized, they couldn't stop apologizing and cried in Regulus' arms and-

[wishchip106]

gay people and their need to judge and stare ominously at everyone else

and then gayly look deeply into each other’s eyes

[cheeseknives]

I was watching James's latest q&a and the amount of people in the comments being concerned about his health really made me take a double take. Honestly I really just thought being bit shaky and stuttering while speaking was something that just comes with age, but now I'm not sure :-/

[fairystoryfemme]

dating apps as a disabled lesbian are r o u g h ……… i’m gonna die alone i can feel it

[pleasantlycrazyworld]

I HAD THIS IDEA!!!! Bob being sassy to the whole team and they realize its because he hasn't seen you in a few days and misses you

Summary: Bob’s been moodier than a cat in the rain lately, and the team’s patience is wearing thin. It takes Yelena’s sharp eyes to notice the cause: you’ve been gone for a few days, and Bob’s acting out like a lovesick drama queen

Bob was on a rampage.

Not a dangerous rampage, not physically at least. The tension rolling off of Bob made the type of mood where everyone on the team collectively started to avoid eye contact and speak in whispers. His sarcasm was nuclear, his expressions so exaggerated he looked like a soap opera star, and his mood swings were faster than Ava's phasing.

“Do we have to breathe this loud?” he muttered, stirring his coffee with the kind of fury that made Yelena believe he was going to break the mug. Across the table, Bucky blinked at him. “We’re literally just sitting here.”

“Well, maybe sit quieter, James,” Bob snapped, setting his mug down with an aggressive clink. “I can hear your existential dread from here, and frankly, it’s exhausting I have my own dread thanks for wanting to share yours though.”

John just grunted, scrolling through his phone. “What's crawled up your cape today?”

“My cape is in the laundry, didn't know you'd be so concern,” Bob fired back. “But sure, let’s deflect from the fact that our briefing room smells like expired protein powder and ego.”

John raised a brow. “That one aimed at me or Bucky?”

“Why not both?” Bob smirked. “Two-for-one special. See how efficient I can be."

Yelena leaned back in her chair, eyeing him with the precision of someone who grew up knowing how to spot a lie three days before it happened. “Okay. Enough,” she said plainly. “What is actually going on with you?” “I’m fine,” Bob replied too quickly. “Maybe I just woke up and realized I’m the only one on this team with a functioning personality.”

“That’s definitely news,” John muttered under his breath. Yelena ignored him. “When’s the last time you saw her?”

Bob froze.

The mug hit the table again, this time slower. He didn’t look at her just stared into the last bit of coffee like it had the answers.

“Three days,” he said finally, voice much smaller than before. “Not that I’m counting. Or brooding. Or making dramatic exits from rooms like I’m in a shitty 90s romcom film. Except I am. And I hate it. I hate that she can make me feel like this, that she has this power over me." The room went quiet. Bucky ran a hand down his face. “You’re telling me I've been putting up with you turning your heartbreak into a Broadway audition over three days?”

Bob waved a hand. “It’s not heartbreak. It’s just... I’m used to seeing her. Talking to her. Being near her. I miss that little snort-laugh she does when I say something stupid or how she always gives me the middle of the cinnamon roll or when she texts me dumb memes during boring meetings. And now she’s just—poof. Gone. No cinnamon. No memes. Just... silence.”

“She’s just at her friend's wedding,” Yelena reminded gently. Bob slumped back in his chair. “Her friend lives in Idaho. That’s practically the moon.” Yelena’s expression softened slightly. “You could’ve just said you missed her.”

“Where’s the drama in that?” Bob replied, deadpan. “No one makes me tea or gives me extra hugs just because I say I’m sad. But make when it's everyone’s problem? Instant attention.”

Ava muttered, “You’re the worst.”

“You love me.”

“I tolerate you.”

Bob opened his mouth to argue—when his phone buzzed. His expression instantly shifted, eyes lighting up as he read the name on the screen. You. He quickly opened the message and smiled.

[Miss you too. I’ll be home tomorrow night. Don’t sass the team too hard without me.] Bob’s fingers flew across the screen in reply before he stood up, clearing his throat with the air of someone delivering a monologue. “Okay. I’m better now.” Bucky narrowed his eyes. “Seriously?”

“What can I say?” Bob grinned. “Love is a powerful mood stabilizer.”

Yelena leaned over to John. “We should get them married. For national security reasons.” John just shook his head. “We need a support group. For us."

<><><><><><><><><><>

That night, Bob camped out on the couch with your favorite blanket, a mug of tea you always somehow made better than he could, and the goofiest smile on his face as he watched old sitcom episodes, he used to make fun of—just because they reminded him of you.

And when you walked through the door the next night? He didn’t say anything at first—just tackled you in a hug, buried his face in your shoulder, and whispered, “You're not allowed to leave me for that long ever again, at least not without a two-week emotional prep notice and a signed cuddle contract.” You grinned against his cheek. “It was just three days.” You muttered against him, smile growing even bigger as you feel him shake his head, tickling you with his hair. "That's a lifetime."

As always if you like my work, please let me know! Reblogging, commenting, and liking are huge and easy ways to let me know you're enjoying my work, and it keeps me motivated to post way more!!! Requests are open <3

Tagging:

@msfirth

@my-name-is-baby

@metalarmsandmanbuns

@live-love-be-unique

@disillusioniary

@you-bloody-shank

@sarcazzzum

@itsjustisa

[moonstruckme]

I have no way of expressing this ask more than this. I crave for someone being so whipped and in love with me that they would do anything (walk him like a dog sis) and I know you've already written some things like that but I beg of you to write more. Sorry I'm on my period rn and I want some Marauders fluff, maybe the fic be about period comfort? Idk, sorry if that makes no sense, have a good week 😭🙏 Dealers choice on Poly, James, sirius, or Remus (I don't currently have emojis but its the cake anon)

I hope this was along the lines of what you wanted? Ngl lovely since the request seemed basically just for fluff and comfort I treated it like a free space on a bingo card so thank you!

James Potter x fem!reader ♡ 997 words

The sound of your door opening makes your back tense enough that you nearly gasp in pain. 

“Hello?”

“Just me,” your boyfriend says, voice coming towards your bedroom. 

“Oh.” Relief and affection are unmissable in your tone though you try to seem less eager. “What are you doing here?”

James is frowny as he comes in. A sad little pucker to his lips as he takes in the sight of you stomach-down on the bed, taut and motionless with your head turned to the side to see him. You find your own self-pity intensifying under his concerned gaze. 

“You said you were hurt,” he says. 

“I didn’t say that.” 

James gives you a fond look, dropping his duffel bag on the floor and taking his phone from his pocket. “Woke up with my back all funny,” he reads aloud from your texts. “Can’t move, won’t make it to the gym sorry.” He tsks, squatting beside your face. You watch the flex of his quads with a reverence you’ve only recently stopped being embarrassed of. “You spelled can’t without the apostrophe. That was the really scary part.” You wince, and James cracks a smile, kissing you. “How badly does it hurt?” 

“It’s not that it hurts very much,” you say, pushing out your bottom lip a little in the hopes he kisses you again. “It’s just surprising.” 

James takes the bait, pressing his lips gently to yours before pulling away again. “Surprising?” he repeats. 

“Yeah. Like, you know when you get shocked by a door handle or something and your whole body seizes up? It’s like that, but only when I move.” 

“That doesn’t sound very nice either,” he murmurs, eyes tracing the curve of your back where it disappears under your bedcovers. You take the opportunity to trace the line of his jaw with yours. “Can I have a look?” 

“A look at what?” you ask. “It’s in my back, Jamie, it’s not really something you can see.” 

“I know, just…” He starts crawling onto your bed, mindful of not making the mattress shift underneath you. “Can I?” 

You bite the inside of your lip. Your wariness is evident in your tone. “Sure.” 

James brushes a hand over your hip in thanks. He moves slow, settling with his knees straddling your legs and untucking the sheets from around you carefully. You trust him, but it’s hard not to go rigid as he pulls your sleep shirt up above your waist, feeling somehow more exposed for your incapacity of movement. 

He hums. “It doesn’t look inflamed.” 

“Told you.” 

“You told me,” James agrees, sounding amused. “I just thought if it was a muscle thing, it’d be swollen or something. Where does it feel like it’s coming from?” 

He lays his hand, ever so gently, on your lower back, and you gasp. 

He takes it away instantly. “Shit, sorry. I’m sorry, angel, that hurt?” 

“It’s fine.” You force yourself to breathe past the pain. “It just surprised me.” 

“It can surprise you and hurt at the same time,” James says, remorseful. “I’m sorry. If I…if I warn you that I’m going to touch you, do you think that’ll be better?” 

Just the prospect makes you feel tense. “Maybe,” you hedge. 

“Okay. I’m gonna rest my hand here, but I’m not gonna push. Relax, sweetheart.” 

He’s right. This time, his touch is enough to make the muscles of your back tighten but not scream at you. James waits a beat to make sure you’re okay before drawing his hand up and down your spine. 

It hurts less and less as he goes. James’ palm emanates a warmth that’s more soothing than the cocoon of your bedcovers from before. You’re safe so long as he’s looking after you. 

“It’s here?” he asks, palm settling between your hips. “That’s where it hurts the most?”

“I think so,” you say. “It’s hard to tell.” 

“That’s where you seem the most strung up,” he murmurs, rubbing from side to side. His pressure increases very slightly as he feels for the cause of your hurt. “Do you have a chiropractor you like?” 

“No.” Your voice turns wary. “I’ve never needed one.” 

“I know one who I think is pretty good,” James says conversationally. 

“I don’t want to go to a chiropractor. I can’t even sit up.” 

“That’s something he might be able to help with, lovely.” James’ palm soothes over your bare skin. “But okay. We can talk more about that later, let’s just focus on making you feel better for now. I think half the pain is from how nervous you are. It might get better if you’re able to relax.” 

“I don’t know how I’m supposed to not be nervous when it keeps hurting,” you mumble. 

“We’ll loosen you up,” James says certainly. “We’ve got all day.” 

You frown, turning your head to look at him before lightning bolts shoot down your spine. James makes a soft, chiding sound, rubbing your taut muscles. 

“You’re planning to stay here all day?” you ask. 

“Well, I hope it doesn’t actually take all day to get you relaxed enough to sit up,” he says, “but yeah.” 

“Don’t you have other things to do?”

“This is what I’m doing now,” James replies easily. “I’m staying here with you.” 

“Oh.” You want to argue with him. Part of you feels like you should, wave him off, say I’ve got it, actually, but maybe you’re just needy. Your voice softens with apology. “Thanks.” 

“Come on,” says James, leaning down to kiss the back of your neck. “Of course, sweetheart. What else am I here for?” 

“You mean, other than to look good?” you tease him. 

You can hear his smile in his voice. “You did really miss out at the gym today. I was going to do arms.” 

“Now I’m extra sorry my back decided to mutiny.” 

“Hey, if it’ll help you relax to watch me do push-ups on your floor, just say the word. I’ll try whatever works.” 

[imtaashu]

2𝚊𝚖 𝚈𝚘𝚞𝚃𝚞𝚋𝚎 𝚅𝚒𝚍𝚎𝚘.

✮ Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader ✮ Summary: You wake up to the sound of Bucky whispering under the covers—watching YouTube tutorials on how to make you smile. You don’t know whether to laugh, cry, or never let go of him again. ✮ Genre: clingy soft Bucky, emotional support fluff, comfort after sadness, secret boyfriend tenderness, crying but in a good way, love you can feel in your ribs ✮ Word Count: ~1.2k ✮ Author Notes✍️ : He’s not just watching cat videos. He’s learning how to love you right. At 2am. In a whisper. With a furrowed brow and his whole entire heart 🥺💻 ✦ welcome to my bucky brain rot. masterlist lives here ✦

It’s 2:17 a.m. when you wake up. The bed dips beside you.

Blankets are rustling, but softly—like someone’s trying really, really hard not to wake you.

You blink blearily into the dark. Bucky’s sitting up, hunched forward under the covers with a faint blue glow lighting his face.

You squint.

…Is that your laptop?

“Bucky?”

He jumps. Literally flinches like he’s been caught committing a federal crime.

“Hey,” he whispers, slamming the laptop shut like it might self-destruct. “You weren’t supposed to wake up—go back to sleep, I was just—”

“…Were you watching YouTube?”

He’s blushing. You can hear it in the dark.

“…Maybe.”

You sit up, reaching for the laptop. “What were you—”

“No, wait—!”

Too late. The screen lights up again, still halfway loaded on the video he paused mid-whisper.

“HOW TO MAKE YOUR GIRLFRIEND SMILE WHEN SHE’S SAD 🥺❤️ (10 Tips That ACTUALLY WORK)”

You freeze.

He groans and buries his face in his hands.

“I knew the thumbnail was too much,” he mumbles.

You just stare “…Were you really watching that?”

He doesn’t move. Doesn’t look at you “I just—” His voice is rough, wrecked. “You’ve been quiet lately. And I thought—maybe if you were ever sad and didn’t say anything, I could still know how to fix it. I just wanted to be better at… that. For you.”

Your chest cracks open. Like an eggshell. Like a sunbeam. Like something tender.

You blink fast “James.”

He still won’t look at you.

“Hey,” you whisper, reaching for him “Baby. Look at me.”

He finally does. His eyes are glassy. Wide. Embarrassed.

And you don’t say anything else.

You just kiss him. Soft. Deep. Heart first.

He melts. Right there, under the covers at 2:20 a.m., laptop still between you, guilty search history exposed to the world—he melts in your arms like your lips are the only thing tethering him to solid ground.

When you finally pull back, your eyes are wet.

“Y-You’re crying,” he whispers, stunned. “Oh no—I messed it up—”

“No,” you breathe, shaking your head. “You didn’t. I’m crying because I didn’t think I could love you more. And then you go and do this.”

He sniffles.

“You already make me smile when I’m sad,” you say. “Every time you bring me tea. Or hold my hand. Or look at me like I’m the only thing that matters.”

“You are the only thing that matters,” he murmurs.

Your face crumples again. “God, stop being perfect.”

“I literally typed ‘how to be a good boyfriend’ into YouTube twelve minutes ago.”

“Exactly. Perfect.”

⸻

Later, you fall asleep curled up against him, laptop still open beside you.

He watches you. Then whispers softly into the mic:

“Hey YouTube. Mission accomplished.”

───────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ─────────

💌 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 💌

@nerdreader @starstruckfirecat @baguwagu @sunday-bug @murnsondock @thiscornerofmyfanficbrain @okaytrashpanda @aceofheartsssss @the-real-kellymonster🎀🩷

wanna be tagged in all upcoming theories + emotional damage + forehead kisses? ➝ reply or send me an ask and i’ll add you ♡

───────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ─────────

[supermutticon]

House and Wilson make me so SICK I love them.

Anyways here are some of my Hilson head canons. These are all SFW or just a little suggestive.

Wilson and House alternate big spoon/little spoon. But Wilson prefers to Big spoon and as much as House hates to admit it, he prefers to Little spoon.

House loves sharing things (obviously) but like he really loves sharing stuff. He would give the lollipop out of his mouth if Wilson asked.

Wilson is always pecking House on the cheek, especially after House does something good like saving a patient's life of giving him a cookie.

They're just like an old couple, they sit on the couch together. Not even cuddling, just bodies pressed against each other, occasionally Wilson would mess with House's hair.

Wilson is OBSESSED with House's stubble, he likes the burn when they kiss, he likes feeling it against his thighs.

House is totally in love with Wilson's body, not even just sexually. He likes seeing the aging on Wilson, it makes him feel closer to Wilson. The gray hair, the extra fat on his body or the wrinkles around it. He could spend all day kissing what Wilson sees as imperfections.

Sometimes when they go out on dates to restaurants, which they would not call dates because hashtag cringe, they pretend like they're actually married or on an anniversary of dating. "Oh my husband Greg would love to know what your soup of the day is." Or "James, my love, would you care to share a bottle of wine for our 20th anniversary together?" Just for free shit

Oh yeah they both definitely still call each other House and Wilson despite dating. They will also call each other by first names but they will always prefer last names.

Full names are reserved for when Wilson is getting mad at House for not doing the dishes or folding the clothes right.

Sometimes House just gets waves of sadness and the only thing that can cure it is cuddling in bed with his bf, hands up his shirt just feeling Wilson's heartbeat and knowing that heart beats for him

Wilson is always doing random acts of service, it could range from massaging House's bad leg, making House'd favorite breakfast, setting out clothes to wear the next day or something simple like having the tv already on House's favorite show or dusting off House's piano.

Okay that's all for now!!!!

[curseofaphrodite]

you and me.

REMUS LUPIN X FEM!READER | fluff

summary: the aftermath of fake dating. | kofi

Can I feel sad over breaking up with someone I never dated? Remus thought, sipping his glass of butterbeer.

Gryffindor had won their gazillionth Quidditch match in a row, and the party was in full swing. He might be the only person not intoxicated, but the urge to let that record go became more and more persistent when he watched you laughing with that blonde prick from Ravenclaw.

Why are Ravenclaws even allowed in here? Didn't they freaking lose to Gryffindor?

"Yeah mate, but Darcy is an exception 'cause our Y/N likes him," Sirius explained, his words slurring.

"Did I say that out loud?" Remus wondered, looking at his butterbeer. "This is my first glass. How can I be drunk already?"

"My beautiful girlfriend," James sighed, patting Lily's head — who was already asleep on his lap. "Had the beautiful idea to do a Refill Charm on all utensils, so your first glass will always stay your first glass."

Remus groaned. "For Prefects, you guys do a lot of troublemaking."

"Hogwarts nearing its end, Moony," James said dreamily, his eyes soft as can be. "It's the season to let all hell break loose."

Remus grunted something inaudible, which Sirius found funny. He fell from the couch laughing.

"Woah, woah," James turned his mom-mode on. "No more refilling glass for you, Pads."

"Take it away from him first," Sirius pointed at Lupin. "He's the one crying over his ex-girlfriend."

"I thought they were just fake-dating?"

"We were!" Remus said defensively.

"For Darcy to get jealous?"

"Yes."

"And he did get jealous so they broke up?"

"We all know the story, thank you very much."

"Oh my god Sirius, do you think Remus fell in love with Y/N while they were fake dating?"

"Can you please stop talking like I'm not here!" Lupin said, throwing his hands up in protest. "Y/N is dumb to go after him and I would never like her. Most importantly, I do not like that asshole Darcy, who got the name and character of an egoistic 18th-century pig! She only liked him because he's hot and popular!"

Silence fell among your friends, one that seemed like he was in trouble. Following their line of gaze, he turned around to see you towering over him, your hands on your hips and an unmistakable hurt look.

"Y/N—"

"Is that what you think of me?" you asked softly, anger slowly tinting your voice. "And of Darcy? You helped me get him jealous and now you think he's a pig?"

"I'm drunk?" Remus tried helplessly.

"You think I went after him because he's popular and hot?!"

"Well, he is popular and hot—"

"I haven't even gone on one date with him yet and you guys are already talking shit about me!?"

"It was just Remus!" Sirius said defensively. Remus shot him a sharp glare.

"I cannot fucking believe you guys!"

You stormed off before Lupin could open his mouth again.

"For what it's worth," Marlene said earnestly. "I do think he's a pig. He's been dating that Slytherin girl on the down low. Real casual, everyone says."

Remus sat up straight. "What about Y/N then?"

"Well, my sources say he already tried asking her out on a date. And she said no."

"What, why?"

"Girls tell girls and they tell more girls. My guess is she found out about the Slytherin girl and didn't want to get involved in their mess."

"Then why on earth would she bring him to this party?" Remus asked in exasperation. "Why does she have to be so confusing!?"

Marlene shrugged.

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

Once you get mad at someone, you shut them out completely. Being your close friend, Remus knew this already, but he never expected to be on the receiving end. Over the next few days, you mysteriously disappeared whenever he saw you and never sat next to him in classes. While eating, you always came in late and sat two rows of people down, and while he tried to come up and talk to you, you'd disappear yet again.

If he didn't know better, he would have thought you mastered how to disapparate within the Hogwarts wall itself.

After Potions class one day, Remus was more determined than usual. He stayed behind when he spotted you clearing a doubt with Professor Slughorn. He'd just have to ambush you when that was done.

"You're wasting your time," Lily came by his side. "Slughorn talks her ears out for hours. And if she sees you, she'll just run to the loo, which happens to be just down the hallway."

"We're not in first year! She wouldn't be that childish."

"Oh, don't let her hear you that."

Remus sighed. "Alright, fuck it."

"Wha—?"

Before Lily could finish that question, Remus barged over to the front desk, where you were talking animatedly to Slughorn. Your eyes widened when you saw him, but before you could react, he bent down and scooped you up, and threw you over his shoulders. His werewolf strength had never been more helpful.

You yelped in surprise, but he walked off before Slughorn could react.

"Let me down!" you yelled, but he remained as quiet as ever. The last thing you saw before you talked out of that room was Lily trying to hold back a laugh.

------

Remus put you down when he reached an empty classroom, and he closed the door behind him before you could pull another disappearing act.

"You have got to stop acting like a kid!" he started, completely ignoring what Lily had said.

"Excuse me?" you scoffed, though you felt a little embarrassed yourself. "You're the one who basically called me dumb for liking a freaking guy!"

"He is a dumb guy. I didn't call you dumb. I just called the act of liking him dumb."

"How is that any different, Lupin?"

"Wow!" Remus laughed, though he looked anything but friendly. "One fight and I'm on last name basis? Over your fucking boyfriend?"

"He's not my boyfriend."

"Then why the hell did you bring him to the party?!"

"I didn't! He came with Alice, you utter buffoon!"

That shut him up. But you weren't finished.

"You're always quick to judge and I never thought you'd include me in that list and—"

"Y/N—"

"—no, you listen to me. If I did go on a date with someone, it's none of your business since you said you'd never like me. So stop pretending like my fucking boyfriend because we stopped that act weeks ago! He and I are no more than friends than you and I are!"

Whatever he was about to say choked and died away in his throat. You felt guilty, though you didn't know why.

"No more than you and me." Remus gritted his teeth. "Makes sense."

You watched him walk away in all kinds of feelings. But before you could call out, before you could react in any way, he stopped and turned.

"Ah, fuck it," he said for the second time that day and walked straight back to you.

You felt his hold on your face and then his lips were on yours. Your eyes widened before closing altogether. You grabbed him by his collar and kissed him back, as hurried and passionate as him.

"Still friends?" he asked in between the kisses, picking you up again to put you on top of the benches.

"Not by a long shot," you smiled against his lips, pulling him closer.

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

Lily's face was red when she reached the common room.

"What happened?" James asked, sitting up straight.

"Next time we have a meeting with Dumbledore, we should ask him to soundproof the dungeons." She said, shuddering.

[uramakimochi]

MOMENTS

Wolfstar x daughter!Reader

WARNINGS: nothing, just the fluffiest fluff ever. FEM!R but no use of Y/N. I recommend listening to "Tumblr Girls" by G-Eazy (sped up version), 'cause it's the first song i thought of when i was writing this and i always think of the tiktok edits, especially the last part yk😭 but you can choose your sweet song for this.

English is not my first language so feel free to correct me.

[ WHEN SIRIUS BOUGHT YOU YOUR FIRST BROOM ]

"Baby, can you come here for a moment?"

You walked out of your room and down the stairs, heading into the living room, where you found your parents sitting on the couch next to each other.

"Am i in trouble?" you asked them shyly.

Remus gave you a smile and reached out to take your hand, sweetly stroking it.

"Of course not darling. We called you to show you something"

"Oh..." you relaxed. "What is it?"

Sirius leaned back to grab something that was hidden behind the couch and you looked at him curiously.

"I got you a gift, sweetheart~" he said and then turned back to you.

When you saw what he was holding in his ringed hands your eyes widened and you couldn't hold back a little excited squeal. You started bouncing on the spot and your parents giggled at your enthusiasm.

"For me??" you asked excitedly, frantically glancing from the broomstick to Sirius' gray eyes. "Is it all mine??"

"All yours, baby" Sirius nodded. "So we can finally play Quidditch together"

Sirius handed you the broom and you took it in your hands, admiring the shiny wood. Then you leaned forward to hug your father, wrapping your arms tightly around his neck and giving him a loud kiss on the cheek.

"Thank you thank you thank you! Thank you so much daddy, i love you so much!"

Sirius hugged you back and placed a kiss on your head, rubbing your back. "You're welcome, puppy. But hey, you have to say thank you to Dad too, because we decided together to buy your broom"

You quickly hugged Remus too, giving him the same kiss you gave Sirius and thanking him too. "Thank you so much dad"

"You're welcome, my love. And please..." Remus said, pulling away from you to look into your eyes. "Treat this broom well because it didn't cost Daddy cheap, okay?"

"Of course! I solemnly swear i'll treat it as best as i can!" you nodded frantically. "I can't wait to show it to Harry!"

"I'm sure he and Uncle James will be super jealous of your broom" Sirius chuckled, then stood up with his hands on his knees. "Now how about we go out and try for a fly?"

And you run outside without even waiting for him, while Sirius followed you looking at you tenderly. There was no greater satisfaction for a father than giving a gift to his daughter and making her so happy.

[ WHEN YOU AND REMUS READ TOGETHER, HIM SAT ON YOUR BED WITH HIS LEGS CROSSED AND YOU BETWEEN HIS THIGHS, WITH YOUR BACK RESTING ON HIS FRONT ]

"How do you read this word?" you asked, pointing with a finger on the page to a word that seemed very long to you.

"Stepsisters, darling" he replied. "It means they're not Cinderella's real sisters"

"Why?"

"Because Cinderella's father married another woman who already had two daughters. Because his wife, Cinderella's mother, was no longer here"

You nodded silently, sad that Cinderella's mother was gone. Remus smiled and went back to reading the story. "Cinderella's stepsisters were very vain-"

"Dad, what does vain mean?"

Remus froze again when he saw you tilt your head back against his chest so you could look him in the eyes and he smiled at you.

The best part of reading with you was teaching you the meaning of new words. You were at that age where you had to depend on him and Sirius and when you needed something you always ran to them. It was something that would always make him proud in his heart.

"A vain person is a person who wants to show off to be admired by others"

"Ohhh" you mumbled, happy to have learned a new word. "Like Dad and Uncle James?"

Remus burst out laughing, taken aback by your words and you looked at him in confusion.

"It's true sweetheart, Dad and Uncle James are a bit vain" he said, at the end of his laugh. "But don't tell them, okay?"

"Okay"

You went back to calmly looking at the pages of the open book that Remus held in his hands while he continued to read that famous Muggle fairy tale to you.

[ WHEN YOU COLORED SIRIUS' TATTOOS ]

"Hold still Daddy!"

"Sorry puppy" Sirius chuckled. "You're tickling me"

You ignored him, continuing to color one of the many tattoos that decorated his chest as you sat on his stomach.

"You know Dad will never let me get into bed all colored like this, right?" Sirius then asked teasingly. "I'll tell him it's your fault"

But you just shrugged, stopping your work to look at him with an innocent smile. "You can sleep with me in my bed if he doesn't want you. I don't mind"

Sirius smiled back and, holding himself up on his elbows, leaned forward to give you a kiss on the forehead.

"Aw thanks my love, i appreciate the offer but if i stain your bed Dad would definitely kill me, you know him"

You pouted a little and lowered your head to start coloring his tattoo again.

"You have so many tattoos..." you noted, not taking your eyes off his skin. "Does Dad have them too?"

"He has some, but not as many as me"

"Do you think he'll let me color his tattoos?" you looked at him for a few seconds with hopeful eyes and Sirius chuckled.

"He rarely lets me color them, but if you ask him i'm sure he won't mind, trust me"

"I can't wait to ask him!" you blurted excitedly. "Daddy can you lie on your stomach now so i can color the tattoos on your back too?"

And Sirius obeyed without protest.

[ WHEN REMUS COMBED AND STYLED YOUR HAIR ]

"Dad! Dad! Dad!"

Both Remus and Sirius shifted their gazes from each other to you, who excitedly entered the kitchen running to the former and take his hand in yours.

"What is it my darling girl?" he asked you without hesitation.

"Can you braid my hair please??" you pleaded in turn, looking at him with your big bright eyes, while your small hands unconsciously played with his long tapered fingers. "I want to have braids before Harry comes to play!"

"Aw, do you want to make yourself pretty for Harry, my love?" Sirius interjected this time with a smirk.

You chuckled and shook your head. "Nooo Daddy. It's much more convenient to have braids when we play, so my hair doesn't bother me" you answered in a tone that seemed to say "Wasn't it obvious?".

Remus stroked your fingers with his thumb.

"Are you sure you don't want Daddy to braid your hair?" he asked and you shook your head again without hesitation.

"I like it better when you do it for me. You're better than Daddy at braiding, almost like Aunt Lily and Aunt Dorcas"

Sirius slumped back against the back of his chair, clutching his chest with a mock grimace of pain. "Agh! You're breaking my heart over here baby! It's not fair!"

You and Remus both laughed then he stood up, starting to walk towards your bedroom and you let go of his hand to get ahead of him. When he entered your room he saw you already sitting in the middle of your bed with your colored comb in your hand, waiting impatiently for him.

Your father climbed onto the bed to sit behind you and after you handed him the comb, you didn't waste time moving back to sit between his crossed legs. And once you were comfortable he began to gently comb your hair.

He always did it to get out all the knots possible before braiding your hair and combing it was something that both you and him found very relaxing and above all intimate. Remus's hands were always soft and delicate when they touched your hair and he always made an effort to be able to create the hairstyle you wanted.

After he finished combing your hair, Remus took off one of the two colored hair ties he always wore on his wrist, (since he kept them for every time you asked him to tie your hair up) and tied your hair on one side of your head, so he could start making the first braid from the other.

"Dad?" you called out to him suddenly.

"Mh?"

"Can you teach me how to braid someday, please? So i can do it for Daddy too~"

Remus leaned forward to leave a kiss on the back of your head.

"Sure thing sweetheart"

[ WHEN YOU AND SIRIUS DANCED TOGETHER ]

"Are you ready?" Sirius asked you and you slowly nodded.

He held out both hands to you with a smile and when you placed your small ones in his palm, you felt his body heat wrap around your fingers.

"Remember what we learned, okay?" he asked you again.

You and he both glanced at Regulus who was sitting at the family piano and looking at you expectantly, while Remus was doing the same thing while sitting in the armchair. Sirius nodded and his brother took the cue to start playing.

The sweet, delicate melody filled the room within seconds and you quickly raised your head towards your father, waiting for him to begin. Sirius nodded with an encouraging smile and then began to move across the floor, grasping your hands and dragging you with him.

Sirius had his gaze fixed on you, but your eyes were glued to your feet, trying to move in the same rhythm as your father's. And your concentration on the music was disturbed by the constant fear of stepping on his toes (which happened practically every time the two of you tried dancing).

"It's okay puppy" Sirius murmured, not caring about your little mistakes in movements. "Just follow me"

"I-I don't want to step on you" you retorted, lifting your head to look at him awkwardly.

"You're a child, my love. I certainly don't expect you to be a perfect dancer already, otherwise we wouldn't have trained together, would we?" Sirius continued with a small chuckle and both Remus and Regulus smiled in amusement as well.

"I know, but... But..." you lowered your head back to your shoes.

Sirius let go of one of your hands to gesture to Regulus, telling him to stop playing. Both you and Sirius stopped and he crouched down on his legs so he could look into your eyes, which had become shiny.

"Baby" he cooed, reaching up to your face to stroke your cheek. "It's alright, hey..."

"I want to be as good as you" you murmured, a couple of lone tears falling from your eyes.

Sirius stuck out his bottom lip, reading the disappointment filling your large eyes.

Of course he didn't care how many times you stepped on his toes, he didn't care how long it took him to teach you how to dance and he didn't care if you were actually good at it or not. But everyone knew that you adored your parents and you worshipped the ground they walked on from the first moment you were able to. You wanted to do nothing but be like them and be the perfect daughter of your perfect family.

Sirius and Remus exchanged a pitying look and the former looked back at you.

"Okay" he said.

You sniffed and watched him smile at you.

"I have an idea. But first" he continued, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a handkerchief. "I want you to wipe away those silly tears okay?"

You nodded and closed your eyes so Sirius could run the cloth along your cheeks and under your eyes, wiping the tears from your face. Once done, he put the handkerchief back in his pocket but before you could ask him what he wanted to do, he stood up and clasped your hands in his again.

"Now i want you to put your feet on top of mine"

You looked at him confused and surprised at the same time.

"But i'll get your shoes dirty"

Your father smiled at you. "Baby, i'm rich. I can get five more pairs of these shoes, i don't care if you get them dirty. Now hop on in"

Before doing as he told you, you turned to look at your other father, who nodded at you with a smile. So, albeit with hesitation, you placed one foot after the other on Sirius', who made you come closer to him by pulling your hands.

Then Sirius turned to his brother.

"Reggie" he only said with a nod.

Regulus began playing the piano again and the music filled the room again. Sirius began to move again and as his feet slid along the floor, yours followed step for step, never once making a mistake.

Your eyes widened, lifting your head to look back at your father with a smile. "This is perfect!"

Sirius didn't say anything, he just smiled back and continued dancing, delicately, so as not to make you fall. He was sure that you would've learnt to dance like him one day and maybe even became better than him.

[ WHEN YOU COOKED WITH REMUS ]

"Why do you never let me cut the ingredients?" you asked, looking at Remus.

"Because if you cut off your fingertip then you'll have to eat it for dinner and we don't want that, do we darling?"

Remus turned his head to look at you when he heard your silence and smiled amused when he saw your wide eyes looking at him almost shocked.

"I'm just kidding, sweetheart" he chuckled, placing a hand on your head. Being around Sirius too long had taught him to use his sarcasm. "We just don't want you to get hurt. When you get older you will use the big knife like i do"

You let out a small huff, crossing your arms and muttering an "Okay" as you both headed towards the kitchen.

While your father took everything he needed from the drawers and shelves, you looked at him impatiently, looking forward to preparing food with him (another of the activities you liked to do in his company). Then he looked at you with his hands on his hips.

"Hands?"

"Washed" you dutifully replied, holding both palms out towards him.

"Apron?"

"On" and you made a little spin, showing him your personalized apron that you were wearing.

"Knives?"

"Only in Dad's hands"

Remus smiled giving you a quick kiss on the head. "My good girl. And now let's make dinner"

"Yes!"

About half an hour later, when Sirius entered the house he immediately felt a nice spicy scent invade his nostrils, accompanied by your and Remus' voices coming from the kitchen.

"Who wants to mix?"

"Me me! Please, let me do it!"

Sirius went to the kitchen and couldn't stop the smile from growing on his lips when he saw you kneeling on a chair, intent on mixing what was inside a bowl with a wooden spoon that you held in both hands, while behind you his husband whispered to you to do it gently, so as not to dirty the table.

"What good stuff are you two cooking up?" Sirius asked aloud as he stepped in.

You immediately lifted your head from your work to greet him with a wide smile.

"Hi Daddy! We're making a new sauce for tonight's pasta"

Sirius came over to lean down and give you a loud kiss on the cheek. "Looks delicious, my love" he said, lowering to look at what filled the bowl. "Do you think i can give it a taste?"

You nodded frantically.

"Of course! Here!"

You handed him the wood spoon full of sauce you were using to stir, but Remus' voice spoke up this time.

"Sweetheart"

You turned to look at him.

"Not with that one" he said as he handed you a coffee spoon.

"Oh. Sorry hehe" you giggled sheepishly, noticing his knowing look.

You took the spoon from his hands and dipped it in the sauce, then raised it towards Sirius' face to fed him.

"Mmh~ It's delicious puppy, like everything you cook for me" he said with a proud expression. "Did you make this?"

You nodded. "Yes. I mean, i helped Dad. I did a lot of things but i didn't cut anything because i didn't want any of us to eat my fingertip if i cut it off"

At those words Sirius furrowed his eyebrows with a bewildered grimace and glanced at Remus, who was chuckling.

"She's the best chef, don't you think?"

[ WHEN YOU AND PADFOOT PLAYED TOGETHER ]

Remus appeared in the doorway, hearing laughter and high-pitched squeals coming from the garden, and he smiled tenderly when he saw you chasing Padfoot around in circles, while he ran away from you, barking like crazy and wagging his bushy tail. You were both so joyful and carefree, it was such a beautiful scene.

Suddenly though, Remus saw that Sirius turned towards you and stood up on his back legs so he could come at you, before dropping you both to the ground, with him on top of you.

"Sirius!" Remus warned, making the dog raise his head and look at him in surprise. "Be more gentle!"

Padfoot's ears drooped in repentance and when Remus was about to ask if you were okay, you beat him to it.

"Daaad!" you called out to him with a wide smile, moving your hand to invite him to join you. "Come play with us??"

Remus let out a breath and smiled again, softly shaking his head. "No thank you sweetheart, i have to do some things to do first. You two just don't get hurt, okay?" he asked and both you and Sirius looked at him nodding excitedly.

"Okay!"

Sirius turned his face towards you so he could rub his wet nose against your cheek and you laughed loudly. Then he started licking all over your face and you tried to move away. "No Daddy! Please!"

You and Sirius rolled on the grass, laughing and barking, and Remus went back into the house with an amused sigh, knowing that both you and his husband wouldn't be very happy at the idea of a nice scented bath.

About an hour later, when Remus headed outside again to see what you and Sirius were doing, even before he opened the door he realized that there were no longer your squeals or Padfoot's barks ringing out in the air. In fact neither you nor your father were playing around in the grass anymore.

But then Remus' eyes fell on a scene a little further away from him that although it was nothing new in the Lupin-Black home, still never failed to make his heart swell with tenderness.

Curled up on the grass at the base of a tree trunk, Sirius, or rather Padfoot, dozed deeply while snoring (which he also did in human form), while your smaller figure lay curled against his side, sleeping as blissfully as he did. Remus wasn't surprised to notice how Sirius' tail curved towards your small body, trying to cover it in a somewhat protective position. And while his big muzzle blew from his nose on your legs, you held his soft dark fur in your hands as if it were the blanket on your bed.

Remus knew you would never care if Sirius' fur smelled or was dirty with grass and mud. Neither of you would ever pass up a (absolutely adorable in Remus' eyes) father-daughter nap.

[ WHEN YOU CUDDLED WITH REMUS AFTER THE FULL MOON ]

Knock Knock.

The door to the master bedroom opened and Remus smiled faintly when he saw your and Sirius' faces peek out from behind the door.

"Hey handsome. How are you feeling?" Sirius asked with a smile. "Someone here was a little worried about her Dad"

Sirius urged you into the room with a palm resting on your back and you slowly advanced towards their bed. Remus tried to sit up and managed to do it with difficulty, remaining half-lying with his back on two pillows against the headboard of the bed.

"Aw honey" he tiredly murmured. "We always tell you that you don't have to worry about me"

You raised your head to look at him with an uncertain look, unable to stop yourself from looking at his thin, bare torso covered in wounds.

"I know but..." you softly replied, squeezing your hands together. "I don't like to see your body full of scratches, Dad"

Remus and Sirius exchanged a look over your head and while the former looked at his husband with his usual look of disappointment and regret for all the pain he caused his family, Sirius gave him a smile of encouragement, as he always did when Remus became insecure.

So Remus let out a heavy breath and patting the blankets with his palm he invited you to get on the bed.

"Come here darling, come on"

You didn't have to be told twice and you jumped on the bed, climbing over his long legs and sitting next to him, on the side where Sirius slept. Remus raised a hand to caress your cheek with his thumb and you covered his hand with both of your smaller ones.

"Do they hurt a lot?" you muttered with worried eyes.

Remus realized that you were still referring to the scratches and all the wounds that decorated his body and he smiled and shook his head.

"Just a little. But i'm used to it, don't worry about me"

You nodded slowly and remained silent for a few seconds thinking about something, until you looked back at him.

"Dad?"

"Yes lovie?"

"Can i give you a hug? I promise i won't hurt you"

Remus felt his heart swell and looked at you tenderly. "I know you will never hurt me, my darling girl. You can give me all the hugs you want"

Finally he saw you smile slightly and without saying anything you leaned forward and curled up on his side, with your head on his shoulder. Remus wrapped his arm around your body, pulling you close and placed a couple of kisses on your head, delicately stroking your back with his fingertips.

Sirius leaned down to kiss you on the forehead before kissing Remus on the lips.

"I'll make you some hot tea. I'll leave you two alone" he whispered softly, moving his sandy hair from his forehead. Remus nodded, thanking him and watching him leave the room.

So you and your father remained on the bed, enjoying his sweet touches and occasionally listeningn to him talking about stories and funny moments to make the atmosphere more peaceful.

Holding you in his arms and filling you with cuddles was what Remus loved to do most in the world.

These were just some of the favorite moments of their life with you that Sirius and Remus would always hold in their memories. But for you, every second spent with them became a precious memory that you would've always held close to your heart. Unaware of the fact that you would've missed all of this even more after losing them both forever.

Hi guyss, so i was thinking, if you liked this story would you like maybe a version with the uncles/aunts, like Jily and the Slytherin Gang? Maybe even something with bestie!Harry too?? (Sorry not sorry but i love him)

Just let me know~

[cosmonauter]

ahh, i hope you like it @liv-does-stuff !!

bestfriend james who has no boundaries with you!!

james potter thinks you are the best friend he's ever had. normally people tell him that he's too clingy, and they don't like him hanging around them all the time. and it's not a problem for him, but he just wants someone to let him hug and touch without being awkward about it.

so when you two met, he felt like the luckiest person on earth because you don't think it's weird when he hugs you from behind and kisses the top of your head.

you don't judge him for demanding cuddles and sleepovers at least two times a week. you even encourage him to be touchier!

his favourite thing to do with you is bathing together. since he's a headboy, he has unlimited access to the prefect's bathroom, which means that the two of you bathe together as often as possible.

he's especially excited to meet you today because he was informed about a new couple in school, and he really wants to gossip about it with you!

so while he is cleaning his bed of sirius' socks and peter's sweets, because you're sleeping over today, sirius decides to ask him a question, "are you meeting up with them again? don't you think it's a little weird that you guys bath at the same time in the same room, even though you're 'just friends'?"

"why would it be weird? they wash my back and i condition their hair for them. it's logical and they don't mind it aswell. it's actually really nice, and besides, don't act as if remus and you don't shower together!"

remus sighs, "james, sirius and i are in a relationship with eachother. aside from that, i totally agree with pads, it is weird that you take baths together. what's even weirder is you touching while being in said bath!"

"you guys just don't have the connection that my dove and i have. it's okay though, don't be sad about it! maybe one day you'll reach the same trust we have in each other.", james throws a towel over one shoulder and picks out a shirt for you to wear, and matching pants, so everyone you come across in the halls knows about your superior friendship (and that you're his, but he wouldn't admit that to anyone, not even under torture).

"i'm going to the bath, padfoot don't eat anything on my bed, my dove complained about the crumbs last time, and i promised them to change that! they're sleeping with me today. bye bye!"

he closes the door before any of them can say anything and runs to the bathroom as fast as he can.

-

as soon as he arrives in the prefect bathroom, he already sees you taking off your clothes.

while you are struggling with unzipping your pants, he comes up behind you and grabs your waist, pulling you into an embrace. your naked back against his broad chest sends electric shocks down his body and he shivers against you and presses your body closer to his.

"jamie, can you help me with my zipper? it isn't moving any further and i can't get out of my pants like that."

james would do anything for you, if you never stopped looking at him with those puppy-eyes, "of course, sweetheart. stay still."

he moves his hand away for a moment to turn your body facing his. while his one hand moves towards your zipper, the other one steadying your body by holding your hip, he grins at you and you smile back up at him.

he tugs a few times, but the pants don't budge. you notice his forehead getting sweatier, so you suggest to "take off your shirt jamie, it's to hot in here for you to be wearing it!" while tugging it up his back a little.

he pulls it off and throws it to the side, giving you a grin, "if you wanted me naked, darling, you just had to ask."

you scrunch your brows together, "if i wanted you naked, you would already be.". he snorts, and keeps tugging at your jeans.

suddenly an idea blossoms in his head. what if your zipper got stuck on something from the inside of your pants. so, of course, he sticks his hand down your pants to find a little string, connected to your underwear, being held hostage by said zipper.

"darling, you just have to pull your trousers down together with your panties. see, just like that..", he slowly eases your trousers over your butt, enjoying the feeling of your body under his hands.

you shiver against him and moan out," thank you, jamie. i should've thought about that." you blush and hide your head in his chest.

"don't worry about it, my love. i'm happy to help you as much as you need.", he smiles down at you, while you start tugging down his zipper to take of his trousers.

as soon as they fall to the floor, james picks you up by your waist and throws you into the water.

" james, you idiot!!", you scream at him while trying to splash him with the water. "i'm sorry, i'm sorry angel! i'll jump in okay? will that make you happy?"

-

"they are definitely fucking, i'm telling you!"

"sirius, calm down! what if they hear you, huh?"

"oh come on remus, they wear matching pajamas and use silencing charms every single time they have a 'sleepover', they won't hear a thing, trust me!"

"you're right, love, but still."

"wormy, what do you think?"

"i think they're both idiots, who really don't get why it's so weird."

please tell me if i need to change something, or if you have some tips on getting better. i hope you enjoyed it :))

[prettydaisygirl]

hey!

i'm so in love with your streamer James, so i was thinking if you could do somenthing where James discovers that reader likes other streamers besides him, or maybe has an hyperfixtation and doesn't receive that much of attetion, how would he react? offended, jealous, sad? (in a funny way, i don't want to hurt my baby boy)

btw, i love your writing, so if you do this, tysm!

hope your okay! 🩷

heyyyy bestie :) Thanks for requesting this, I'm sorry it's been a while since you requested but obvi we had the celebration and that was fun too. Hope this is kind of what you were looking for, it got away from me a bit. <3

streamer!James Potter x fem!superfan!reader who finds a new streamer ✿ 1.4k words

cw: fem reader, established relationship, mentions of James and Lily (previous), a hint of wolfstar

°˖✧✿✧˖°

previous part

James can see the moment he loses your attention, not that he was truly focused on keeping it. The two of you are snuggled together in his bed, him playing Minecraft with the marauders and you’re on your phone. You’re sitting between his legs with your back to his chest, and it’s when he feels your back shake from little giggles that he knows he’s lost you.

“What are you giggling at, hmm?” He asks, placing one final block down before nuzzling his nose into the side of your head. He presses a kiss to your hair and ignores the sounds of protest in his ear from his friends. You squirm a bit from the affection before settling back against him. 

“Just this new streamer I’ve been watching.” You say, like it’s a casual thing and you haven’t been cheating on him by watching someone else. 

“Hey, woah!” James sits up abruptly, jostling you in his lap. His controller falls to the comforter below the two of you, and this time he can’t hear the yelling of his friends because he slides his headphones off. His hand grabs your phone, and he sees your eyes widen when he does. “You can’t watch another streamer, that’s cheating!”

You give him a look and roll your eyes, even though you know he’s just teasing. “I watch the other Marauders all the time!”

“That’s not the same!” Your boyfriend argues, holding the phone above his head. “Now tell me, who is this other streamer that has stolen your heart and taken you away from me?”

The corner of your lip parks up and you raise your brows. You’re used to his dramatics, but James doesn’t back down. He mimics your look, raising his own brows. You scoff.

“James.” He shakes his head, then gestures to the phone in his hand, waiting for your answer.

“Who is it?” James’ voice is playfully tense, the spark in his eyes shining bright and giving away that he isn’t serious. Or at least, not entirely.

“It’s just this gamer girl,” You say, but his dramatics don't budge.

“You’re committing adultery with a gamer girl?!” He’s practically clutching his pearls.

“James, it’s not adultery. I’m watching a live-stream.”

“So then, tell me! Who’s your side piece?”

You take a heavy breath, realizing that he isn’t going to let up. You don’t know why it’s such a big deal anyway, so you roll your eyes and tell him.

“Her name is RedHotLils? She plays a lot of the same stuff you do. She’s cute, I like her community too.”

James’ reaction isn’t… bad, per se. It’s just not really what you’re expecting. 

“Oh.” He says, and lowers his hand to give you the phone back. You take it back, immediately picking up on his change in attitude. “Well, that’s… yeah. That’s fine.”

Okay. That’s odd. Jame is not awkward like this. You eye him a bit suspiciously as your gaze returns to the phone in your hand. James gathers you back in his arms, pressing a few kisses to your head before returning to his game, but you know something is wrong. You expected a bigger reaction, especially given how much banter you’d had. Maybe him going into her chat and declaring that your love is for him and him alone. Or maybe a dramatic boo-hoo where he playfully begs you to never watch anyone but him again. You didn’t expect… nothing?

Is he upset? Is he actually jealous, and you just thought he was being silly? Normally, James is very open about his feelings. You’ve never questioned yourself like this, never had a problem reading him before. 

It’s like… it never happened. James is back to his usual self. If it weren’t for that lingering, icky feeling in your gut, you probably would’ve forgotten all about it. It stays until James is asleep in bed next to you and it’s all you can think about. His soft snores and the heavy arm around your back don’t help your mind to stop racing. 

Eventually, you slip out of his hold as gently as you can, holding your breath and praying he doesn’t wake up. You place a pillow in the space where your body had been, his arms instantly cradling the soft cotton the way he would you. You wait just a moment, hovering over the bed, seeing if he’ll wake up. 

When he doesn’t, you slip out of his bed, out of his room, and down the hall to Remus’. You knock softly, just a tap, but there’s no answer. You peek inside to see the sandy-haired man asleep, sprawled out on his bed. It doesn’t surprise you to see Sirius curled up next to him despite having his own room next door. 

You tiptoe to the side of the bed, crouching beside Remus. Part of you feels guilty for waking him up but also it’s eating you alive. 

“Remus.” You whisper, just loud enough to have him blinking awake. He groans a bit and you panic, trying to gesture to him to be quiet. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry for waking you up. But I have a question and I can’t sleep.” 

He sits up on his elbows, pushing Sirius’ arm off of him. Sirius doesn’t move a muscle, sleeping like the dead. “‘s going on?” Remus asks you.

You purse your lips for just a second, take a breath, and say, “I… don’t know? James was acting weird earlier and I think I might’ve said something that hurt his feelings.”

Remus blinks slowly, brain still a bit sluggish from sleep. “Well, I’m certain that you would know if you hurt his feelings. He’s quite forward.”

“I know,” You stress, leaning your cheek against the edge of his mattress. “That’s why I’m confused. We were just… y’know, talking shit, and then he stopped. And went back to playing with you guys and he hasn’t mentioned it again.”

“What were you talking about?” Remus asks, interrupted once by a yawn. He rubs at an eye, and only now do you see Sirius shift a bit. Oh good, he isn’t dead.

You fill Remus in on what happened between you and James, how everything was great until it wasn’t, and then it was again. By the end, Remus looks just as confused as you do. “Who was it?”

“Huh?” You ask, and then you register his question. “Uh, her name is RedHotLils? She’s just another gamer, she’s-”

Remus laughs. Like actually laughs out loud, enough to have Sirius jumping awake and glaring at his boyfriend. 

“Lily?” Remus shakes his head a bit, and the name seems to catch Sirius’ attention too, even half-asleep. “You were watching Lily?”

“What about Lily?” Sirius rubs at his eyes, voice practically a groan, “Are we talking about the Valkyries?”

“James accused her of cheating on him with Lily.” This has Sirius laughing too, and you look between the two men.

“Why is that funny?” You ask, clearly missing something. 

It’s Sirius who answers, voice still bubbling with giggles as he speaks. “Because James and Lily used to hook up.”

Oh.

“Oh.” Your voice mimics your inner dialogue, and Remus is quick to shake his head and quell any doubts you might have.

“We adore Lily. Really, all of them, they’re all wonderful.” Remus speaks as Sirius flops back down next to Remus with one final chuckle. “Our groups were closer before, when the two of them were together. But Lily, she ended it. Because, well, she-”

“She likes girls.” Sirius finishes for his boyfriend, reaching to tug him back down. Remus complies, becoming Sirius’ pillow once again. 

“Exactly.” Remus says, and you nod in understanding. “James assumes everyone knows about what happened with Lily. You probably just shocked him, love. It’s been awhile since any of us have really talked.”

You thank Remus and he waves you off, already falling back asleep and Sirius starts to snore right on cue as you leave the room. You slip back into James’ room, replacing the pillow you’d placed in his arms, and let yourself wrap around him. 

It makes sense, then, why he was awkward if the two groups used to be friends. You snuggle into James, letting his body envelope yours. It’s a little sad that the group fell apart after Lily and James broke up. As you start to drift off, you wonder if something, or maybe someone, could bring them all back together again.

°˖✧✿✧˖°

© prettydaisygirl

[daenysx]

i got bored so here are some modern!james potter headcanons;

um- sunshine energy at its finest!!

james is one of the prettiest boys you could ever see in your life

his smile lights up every room he walks in

he has to take extra five minutes every morning to fix his hair because he always puts his head wrong on the pillow and messes the shape of his thick, wavy hair

heavy sleeper!! (cutest though, sometimes he sleeps with his mouth open)

he's a morning person but he usually goes to bed early, claiming he has to get 8 hours of sleep

sleeps naked. to your delight.

he likes getting slow back scratches and massages, he is addicted to get kisses on his neck and his cheeks, he LOVES being babied

always runs hot even when the room is cold. he's generous too, he holds your cold body in his arms until you get warmer

i once wrote that he makes the best iced lattes in the morning, i still stand by it

he'd practice to be perfect at making your favorite drink (mine is iced latte so i had to say it-)

breakfast fan!!

he never leaves the apartment with an empty stomach, the worst he can do is take some snacks or fruits with him if he runs late

loves morning runs, morning walks, morning work outs, morning stretches. anything to wake his body up

and we probably all know this but james potter is the type of man who knows his body well

he looks good and he knows it

he also knows what he should do to take care of himself and his health

i mean he likes waking up early and starting his day, but he'll stay in bed with you if it means he'll get cuddles (especially when it's cold)

he tries to wake you up by bribing you with promises of a shower together and breakfast prepared by him

speaking of showers-

um- if you don't mind me being a little smutty here,

james potter loves eating you out

and he loves it more when he gets to wake you up to his mouth

and he does it again when he convinces you into shower

he does it for his own pleasure really

because it feels so good to keep his mouth on you and rubbing himself to soft blankets at the same time

this man is never- and i mean never ashamed of coming into his pants

like seriously, just think about it

he adores that feeling of falling apart for you, he doesn't even need to be touched

needy. and that's hot.

he makes noises in bed. never stays silent. always tells you how you make him feel.

he likes being called 'my love'

king of getting you flowers because 'they made him think of you'

he makes fun of his blurry sight every time he loses his glasses

he can't read for long (sleepy boy alert) but he likes it when you read a book out loud for him

tries to compete with remus on how many movies he can watch in a row without falling asleep

he loses of course

he complains about sirius' smoking (stop acting like a saint prongs) but he takes a few drags when he's too stressed

now that's the thing- james potter doesn't like to burden others with his stress

he keeps things to himself when he's not joking

his glossy eyes give him away though

precious boy

he blinks a few quick tears on your neck when it gets too much

let's keep going with happy james because i can't handle the thought of him being sad

the best hugger ever!!!

strong arms, broad chest, smells perfect, knows how to squeeze your body with the best amount of pressure

you forget everything when he holds you

he never pulls away from a hug first

just my dream guy

another thing- he is so proud of himself when you laugh at his jokes

has a group chat with remus and sirius

never stops sending memes, sometimes drives remus insane

his spotify playlists are so complicated because his music taste changes with every song

he wants you to choose the music every time you're in his car

guys- james potter brainrot is something else, i swear i love him so much

that's all for now, let me know if you'd like a part 2

[merry-death]

on my second watch of the new hbomberguy video (I was not totally sober when I watched it last night) and I just remembered where I know James Somerton from. A few months ago I ended a friendship because she kept talking about how excited she was to play the hp game, and at first she genuinely didn't know how bad r*wling was, but even after I explained and sent tons of resources so she could see for herself, she still eventually said something along the lines of "oh well, I still don't think it's bad enough to stop me from buying the game". Then she sent me James Somerton's video about why he was still going to buy and play the game and said "His thoughts are basically mine". I had never watched his videos, but I was immediately suspicious of him for being able to lay out the clear transphobia and antisemitism but still justify purchasing the game. And now, I guess we know that his thoughts weren't even his. And no wonder he was fine still giving r*wling money, he's also fine misgendering trans people if it means he can be more misogynistic

EDIT: so i decided to fact-check myself since it's been several months since that conversation, but he does say he "probably" won't spend more money on the franchise even though he totally understands and supports people who want to.

And in a turn of events shocking no one, aside from that conclusion that he thinks it's fine to still support hp, the vast majority of that same video was also plagiarized:

EDIT 2: I've seen some people in the notes saying he even plagiarized the transphobia, so I'm going to clarify this. Most of the video was about all of the transphobic, antisemitic, or otherwise awful shit r*wling has done. That is the content that Somerton seems to have plagiarized from Katelyn Burns.

The only part of the video that doesn't appear to have been stolen is the conclusion, which is where he said it's understandable and fine for people to still financially support the franchise. So he did not plagiarize the transphobia, he plagiarized the proof of transphobia and then added in his opinion that it's still cool to give your money to transphobes if not doing that makes you sad

[godricgryffinsnore]

HELLO HELLO HELLO!!!

so I just stumbled on your page and realised that I really like your writing style, kudos to you and I have a request!!!

ahem ahem

so this has been on my mind for a while and idk maybe I just have a thing for time travel fics

yk

so can we do james x femreader where during yk the typical time travel fic, she gets hit and sent bsck to like marauders era!

also background info she’s like bffs with golden trio and stuff

and she’s a slytherin!!! (idk u can use ur creativity to figure out how they become friends or something)

but it’s sorta like forbidden love cuz she becomes friends with narcissa and Bella AND ALSO is bffs with his son, so they can’t exactly be together

ps nobody knows that she’s been sent back in time

YOU CAN FECIDE THE RESTTTT

is it unrequited? does James still like Lily? what happens to HARry?!!!

Splintered In Time ♡ : A James Potter Fan Fiction.

pairing : James Potter x female!slytherin!reader

summary : When a spell gone wrong sends you hurtling back to the Marauders era, you find yourself entangled in a life you were never meant to live. Torn between the friendships you left behind and the forbidden love you were never meant to have, you must face the impossible choice: to hold on to a borrowed future or fight for the one slipping through your fingers. But time is never kind to those who dare to rewrite it. And love—love is the most reckless magic of all.

warnings : Emotional whiplash, time travelling, poetic language, heavy yearning, Marauders banter, but with a hopeful conclusion, angst with happy ending, slight ‘Snily’ in the ending. Please let me know if I missed any.

author's note : English is not my first language, so please forgive me for any grammatical errors or spelling errors. Re-blogging is completely fine with me, but please don't copy my work. I love you all. Enjoy <3.

word count : 10k {Longest fiction I have ever written}

main master list <3

della's note : Babe! This request made me question and challenge my creativity. Thanks A TON for requesting!!! It felt wonderful to write about time travelling. Oh and btw, originally this was supposed to be a sad ending fiction. But I just can't do this to our James <333 I hope you like it!!!! Oh and it's a super long fiction. Like, I got really carried away while writing!!! I AM SO EXCITED. This is a really long fic, so sit back, grab your popcorn and ENJOYYYYY <33333

banners : @uzmacchiato and @roseschoices

There are no stars tonight—only the burn of borrowed time.

You didn’t see it coming.

The curse, emerald and vicious, came hissing through the battlefield. You only heard Hermione’s choked scream, Harry’s ragged breath, Ron’s hoarse shout—everything distorted by the thunder of chaos. The three of them were only feet away, desperate and bloodied, backs pressed against stone as the fight splintered around them.

You reached for Harry, fingers outstretched, but the magic hit you square in the chest.

And you were falling— Through time itself.

── .✦

When you opened your eyes, the Forbidden Forest was far younger. The trees were taller, the air less burdened with ghosts. You tasted autumn in your throat. Time had slipped backward, cruel and nameless, and dropped you into a decade where your existence was an error.

But you were alive.

Alone.

You spent the first week haunting the forest’s edge like a ghost, walking its shadowed paths with trembling hands. You whispered Harry’s name into the wind, over and over, as if he might somehow hear you across time. You expected Ron to stumble through the underbrush, muddy and panting, calling you an idiot for getting yourself cursed. You waited for Hermione’s clever hands to grab your wrist and yank you back into the war.

But they never came.

Instead, you stood before the castle doors—haunted and hollow—and walked back into the school you had already left behind.

── .✦

You were sorted into Slytherin. The Hat perched on your head seemed to hum with ancient curiosity, peeling back your layers and tasting the war on your tongue.

“Oh,” it murmured, almost gently. “You’ve already fought your battles, haven’t you?”

You squeezed your eyes shut. Please, just make it quick.

It considered you carefully. Measured the iron and fire in your bones, the loyalty stitched so violently into your chest.

But it placed you in Slytherin, and you didn’t argue. You were already too tired to protest.

── .✦

It started with James. It was always James.

He had a terrible habit of appearing out of nowhere. You’d be walking down the hall, perfectly content to avoid unnecessary attention, when suddenly, his arm would be slung over your shoulders as if it belonged there.

“You’ve got to stop looking so suspicious, snake,” he drawled one day, grinning lazily. “People might start thinking you’re up to something.”

You glanced at him, unimpressed. “I am up to something.”

James’s eyes sparkled mischievously. “Yeah?” he smirked, leaning closer, voice low with mock suspicion. “Planning to kidnap me? Hex me into oblivion? Steal my heart?”

You deadpanned. “I was thinking more along the lines of poisoning your pumpkin juice, but sure.”

He laughed far too loudly for the middle of the corridor, earning glares from passing professors.

“Oh, she’s funny,” he announced loudly to no one in particular, hands over his heart. “Merlin, I think I’m in love.”

You shoved him off, fighting the way your stomach fluttered, but he caught your wrist before you could escape. His grip was firm but gentle, and when you glanced at him over your shoulder, his eyes were far too soft.

“Let me walk you to class,” he murmured, the grin slipping into something warmer.

You should have told him no. But you didn’t.

── .✦

You found yourself tangled with the Marauders far too quickly.

They were impossible to avoid—loud and ungovernable, a storm of mischief and chaos that you had no hope of resisting. You were stolen into their orbit before you could fight it, dragged into their endless schemes and reckless antics.

One morning, you were sitting by the lake, boots kicked off, enjoying the rare sliver of peace. You had foolishly thought you were alone.

Then a shadow fell over you.

“Hello there, Slytherin,” Sirius Black’s voice drawled lazily from above you.

You didn’t bother looking up. “Go away, Black.”

Sirius plopped himself down beside you, entirely ignoring your protest. He stretched out his legs with a contented sigh, as if he belonged there.

Moments later, James appeared, dropping down beside you with a casual grin.

“Morning, love,” he greeted cheerfully, far too pleased with himself.

You narrowed your eyes. “Why do you sound so smug?”

James’s grin widened. “Oh, no reason. I may have just turned McGonagall’s teacup into a toad. But, you know, totally hypothetical.”

You stared at him. “You’re going to die one day, you know that, right?”

“Probably,” James agreed easily, slinging an arm around your shoulders with infuriating charm. “But at least I’ll die with you scolding me. Very romantic.”

Before you could shove him into the lake, Remus strolled over with an exasperated sigh. He paused, taking in the sight of James practically draped over you, and arched a brow.

“Are you bothering her again?” Remus asked, voice dry as parchment.

James beamed. “She likes it.”

You snorted. “I loathe it.”

Sirius, clearly feeling left out, threw himself dramatically into your lap, draping one arm across his forehead with an exaggerated sigh.

“Why,” he drawled dramatically, “why does she only have eyes for James?”

You shoved him half-heartedly, but he only cackled and threw his arms around your waist.

“Get off me, Black!” you spluttered.

James, narrowing his eyes with faux jealousy, nudged Sirius none too gently with his knee. “Oi, off. She’s mine.”

Sirius gasped, clutching his chest. “Yours? Possessive much, Prongs? I knew you were a selfish bastard, but this—this is heartbreaking.”

James rolled his eyes, giving you an exaggerated look of betrayal. “Are you cheating on me with my best mate?”

You snorted. “If I were, you’d deserve it.”

Peter arrived late to the scene, holding a half-eaten pastry, and squinted at the chaos. “Wait—are you two dating?” he asked, blinking between you and James.

“Of course we are,” James said with mock indignation, eyes glinting wickedly. “Didn’t you get the wedding invitation, Wormtail?”

Sirius, still sprawled across your legs, clutched at your hand. “It’s true! She’s only marrying him for his money, you know. I tried to warn him.”

You shoved Sirius off you with a laugh, but James caught your wrist before you could scramble away. His grip was warm, his fingers curling around yours, far gentler than they should have been. When you glanced at him, his eyes were bright with mischief—but there was something softer beneath it. Something you weren’t quite ready to name.

And you hated that you didn’t pull away. Hated how much you liked the way he held on.

── .✦

You should have left. You should have walked away.

But when James kissed you for the first time beneath the clock tower, you let yourself fall.

── .✦

There are no stars tonight—only the burn of borrowed time.

James kissed you in every corner of Hogwarts.

He kissed you by the Black Lake, where the reeds bent with the wind and the water lapped at your boots. He kissed you in the hidden passageways behind the tapestry of Gregory the Smarmy, his fingers fisted in your robes, dragging you against him as if he could anchor you there forever.

And you let him. You let him because he didn’t know the truth.

He didn’t know that when you kissed him, you were tasting borrowed time. That when you clutched at his robes, you were holding on to something already slipping through your fingers.

Because you knew. You knew that one day he would look at you and see nothing but betrayal.

And when the truth finally came—it broke you.

── .✦

It was never meant to slip out.

You had spent months dodging questions, weaving careful half-truths and white lies. James had been curious, of course. He was a Gryffindor, after all—reckless and brash, always needing to know why.

But he trusted you. And it made it too easy to lie.

Until one night, when it all came unraveled.

── .✦

It happened in the Gryffindor common room.

The fire had burned low, its light casting long, honeyed shadows across the rug where the Marauders sat sprawled in their usual disarray. Sirius was lounging with his head in Remus’s lap, tossing Bertie Bott’s beans at Peter, who swatted at him with a scowl. James sat on the floor with his back against the couch, legs stretched out, fingers idly playing with the fraying hem of your sleeve.

You had barely noticed. You were too lost in the sound of their laughter, the way their voices filled the room—so young, so unbroken. For a moment, you let yourself forget. You let yourself imagine that this was your world. That you belonged here.

And then Sirius, ever reckless with his sharp-edged tongue, grinned at you through half-lidded eyes.

“So, how’d a Slytherin like you get mixed up with the likes of us?” he teased, lazily twirling his wand between his fingers. “You never did say, y’know.”

You smiled faintly, already preparing a half-hearted lie. “Fate, I suppose.”

But Sirius was grinning now, mischievous and sharp. “Come on,” he pressed. “I want a proper story. Surely you’ve got some deep, dark secret.”

Your breath caught slightly.

James must have felt the way you tensed beneath his touch. His fingers stilled against your sleeve, and he glanced at you, concern flaring subtly in his eyes.

But you forced a laugh, too light, too strained. “I hate to disappoint, Black,” you said, voice tight, “but I’m painfully boring.”

“Liar,” Sirius grinned, poking you in the ribs with his wand.

And then— Without meaning to— Without thinking—

You said his name.

You said it softly, a slip of the tongue, a betrayal on your lips.

“Harry.”

The room fell silent.

For a heartbeat, the only sound was the low crackle of the dying fire.

And then James stilled.

The playful glint in his eyes vanished, his fingers curling slightly in the fabric of your sleeve. You felt the tension flood his limbs—the subtle stiffening of his spine, the sudden sharpness in his breath.

He turned slowly to look at you.

“Who?” His voice was low, almost gentle.

Too gentle. Like the eye of a storm.

Your throat tightened. You opened your mouth, scrambling for a lie, but the name hung between you—raw and damning.

Sirius frowned. “Who’s Harry?”

And James— James was already staring at you, the light in his eyes splintering into something sharp, something disbelieving.

You tried to move, but his hand shot out, gripping your wrist with a force that was far too desperate.

“Wait,” he murmured, voice hoarse. “Wait.”

The others were watching now, their laughter gone, eyes narrowed in confusion. But James—James wasn’t looking at them. He was only looking at you.

“Say it again,” he breathed. His voice cracked. “Who did you just say?”

You opened your mouth. Nothing came.

James’s grip tightened slightly, his knuckles white around your wrist. His voice, usually so steady, shook.

“Please.”

You felt yourself tremble. Because you couldn’t lie anymore. Not to him. Not when he was holding you like that— As if you were already slipping through his fingers.

And so you whispered it. Soft. Barely louder than a breath.

“Harry.”

The color drained from James’s face.

He dropped your wrist like it burned him, his hand falling limply to his side. His mouth opened slightly, but no words came—only a sharp breath, hitched and uneven.

“Harry,” he echoed, voice hollow.

You saw it then— The moment the pieces fit together. The realization in his eyes. The slow, devastating comprehension.

And then he was on his feet.

“James—” you started, reaching for him.

But he stumbled backward, out of reach. His chest was heaving slightly, his hands shaking at his sides.

“Don’t,” he croaked.

Sirius and Remus were on their feet now, eyes wide and confused.

“James, what the bloody hell is going on?” Sirius demanded.

But James only shook his head. He took another step back, looking at you as if he had never seen you before.

And then he turned and left.

── .✦

You found him in the Astronomy Tower.

The night was cold, the stars scattered wide and indifferent. He was leaning against the stone railing, knuckles white where his hands gripped the edge, his back to you.

“James,” you breathed softly.

He didn’t turn around. He didn’t look at you.

“Who is he?” His voice was hoarse, barely louder than a whisper.

You stared at him. The boy you loved. The boy you were going to lose.

You swallowed hard. “He’s your son.”

James stiffened. His knuckles went even whiter against the stone. For a long moment, he didn’t move.

And then he exhaled, sharp and broken.

“My son,” he repeated slowly, voice cracking. “From the future.”

You stepped toward him, cautiously, as if you might scare him off.

“I didn’t mean for you to find out,” you rasped. “I—I didn’t know how to tell you. I—”

But James spun around sharply, and his eyes—oh, his eyes.

They were wide and wild, brimming with too much emotion for one person to hold.

“You lied to me,” he choked.

You shook your head violently. “No, I didn’t—James, I didn’t lie—”

“You knew!” His voice cracked, sharp with anguish. “You knew this whole time. And you let me—” His voice broke, and he dragged a shaking hand through his hair. “You let me love you anyway.”

Your throat tightened, your heart splintering in your chest.

“James,” you whispered.

But he only stared at you, eyes glimmering with disbelief, with heartbreak.

“You’re not mine,” he rasped, voice raw. “You never were.”

You choked on a sob, closing the distance between you. Your hands cupped his face, trembling fingers brushing against his cheeks.

But when you leaned in—when you pressed your mouth against his, desperate and pleading— He didn’t kiss you back.

He only stood there, motionless, as your lips pressed against his. And when you pulled away, he was already slipping through your fingers.

But you didn’t let go. And somehow, impossibly, he didn’t either.

── .✦

There are no stars tonight—only the slow ruin of hearts breaking in real time.

You stood in the Astronomy Tower long after James had gone.

The stone railing was still warm from where his hands had been, but the boy himself—the boy with honey eyes and a wicked grin—was gone. You pressed trembling fingers against the cold stone, the ache splintering in your chest so violently you thought it might hollow you out.

And you stayed there. Even after the stars grew weary. Even after the wind bit cruelly at your skin.

Because the only thing worse than knowing James Potter might never love you again— Was knowing that he once did.

── .✦

You tried everything to make it right.

But he was gone.

He was still there, of course—still James, still a boy with fire in his chest and golden laughter in his throat. But he was no longer your James.

He stopped sitting beside you at breakfast. He stopped brushing against your arm when you walked beside him.

He didn’t meet your eyes when you passed him in the corridor. Didn’t glance at you when Sirius slung an arm around your shoulders in the common room.

It was worse than hatred. Because there was no fire in his eyes. Only distance.

And you were drowning in it.

── .✦

The Marauders noticed. Of course they did.

You were walking beside Remus one morning, heading toward Transfiguration, when he slowed his pace, falling into step beside you. He glanced at you out of the corner of his eye, too perceptive by half.

“You look tired,” he murmured softly.

You offered him a weak smile. “I’m fine.”

Remus sighed, running a hand through his hair. “You’re not fine,” he countered gently, his voice low. “And he’s not fine either.”

You didn’t say anything. You only gripped your books tighter.

And Remus—Remus, who had always known how to read you—lowered his voice slightly.

“He still looks at you, you know,” he murmured, so softly it was nearly lost to the crowd.

Your throat tightened.

You didn’t ask who he meant. You didn’t have to.

── .✦

You tried. Merlin, you tried.

You cornered James in the hallway once, days later.

You didn’t think. You just grabbed his wrist as he walked by, gripping him too tightly, too desperate. His breath hitched slightly at the contact, but he didn’t pull away. He didn’t meet your eyes either.

“James,” you rasped, your voice barely louder than a breath. “Please.”

You didn’t even know what you were begging for. But it didn’t matter.

Because James closed his eyes, as if you hurt him just by standing there, and carefully pried your hand from his wrist.

And he walked away without saying a word.

── .✦

You started avoiding him after that.

If he didn’t want you, you wouldn’t force him to see you. You let him have his space. You sat at the Slytherin table for meals again, pretending you didn’t feel his eyes burning into your back.

You stopped walking by the Quidditch pitch in the evenings, unwilling to watch him practice, unwilling to risk seeing him so golden and alive when you were breaking apart.

You no longer reached for him when you were cold. You no longer leaned against him in the common room. You no longer laughed when he tugged at your hair or stole the last of your pumpkin pasty.

And you told yourself it was for the best.

But oh— It hurt.

── .✦

You were going to give up.

You had almost made your peace with it. Almost.

Until that night.

── .✦

It was raining. The sort of rain that slapped against the windows in sheets, a relentless downpour that filled the corridors with a low, mournful hum.

You had been walking back from the library, exhausted and hollow-eyed, your boots heavy against the stone floor. Your hair was damp from the drizzle that had clung to you on your way back from the Owlery.

You didn’t even see him at first.

James was standing by the window at the end of the corridor, his back turned to you. His hands were braced against the sill, shoulders hunched slightly, damp curls clinging to the nape of his neck.

You should have walked away. You should have kept going.

But you didn’t.

You stood there, watching him in the half-light, letting yourself pretend for one final moment that he still belonged to you.

And then you turned. Ready to leave. Ready to walk away.

But then he spoke.

“Don’t.”

His voice was low, hoarse—so quiet you barely heard it over the rain.

You froze, your breath catching in your throat.

And slowly, slowly, James turned around.

You saw his face, and your heart splintered. Because he was staring at you the way he once did. Like he was falling. Like he was still falling.

And then he was moving. Two steps, then three— And suddenly he was right in front of you, too close, his chest heaving slightly.

For a heartbeat, neither of you moved. You only stared at each other— Breathless. Broken.

And then he cupped your face with trembling hands, his thumbs brushing over your cheeks as if memorizing the shape of you.

“I hate you,” he rasped.

Your throat tightened.

“I know,” you whispered brokenly.

But James shook his head sharply, his grip tightening slightly. His voice cracked, raw and uneven.

“No, you don’t,” he choked. “I hate you for making me fall in love with you, knowing you’d leave.” His breath hitched. “I hate you for letting me hold you when you already belonged to a different time.”

You squeezed your eyes shut, a sharp sob splintering in your throat. “James—”

But his hands tightened on your face, trembling slightly, pulling you closer.

“And I hate,” he whispered brokenly, forehead pressed against yours, “that I never stopped loving you.”

You let out a soft, broken sob— And then you were kissing him.

Hard. Furious. Desperate.

Your hands fisted in his robes, dragging him closer, anchoring yourself to him. And James—James was everywhere. His hands slipped into your hair, fingers tangling desperately, as if he could keep you there forever.

When you pulled away, both of you were gasping. His forehead pressed against yours, his breath uneven, his eyes burning.

“You idiot,” you whispered softly, trembling against him. “You absolute idiot. I was never going to leave you.”

James let out a low, choked sound, half-sob, half-laugh, and then he was kissing you again.

And this time— When he held you, He didn’t let go.

── .✦

You stayed. Time bent for you.

The war came. You fought beside him. You saved them all—James, Lily, Harry. The future was rewritten, the grief undone.

And when you stood with James beneath the canopy of a thousand stars, his hands holding yours, you pressed your lips to his knuckles and whispered,

“I would have loved you in every timeline, you know.”

And he smiled. Because he already knew.

── .✦

Time is not linear. It bends for love. It always does.

── .✦

You never thought you’d get to see it—the future you were fighting for.

But somehow, impossibly, you did. And it was beautiful.

── .✦

The war ended differently this time.

Voldemort fell. Not in the ruins of Godric’s Hollow or the halls of Hogwarts, but in a forest clearing, far from the children who should never have had to bleed for a future that should have been theirs.

You were there beside James. You fought with him—back to back, his voice hoarse with spells and shouted warnings, his hand reaching for yours even in the chaos.

And when it was over—when the last curse had been cast and the world stood still—James found you in the crowd.

His hands were shaking when he grabbed you. His knuckles bloodied, his robes torn, his hair damp with sweat. But his eyes were bright and wild and alive.

And he kissed you like you were oxygen. Like he had spent a lifetime holding his breath. Like he had been waiting for you across a thousand timelines.

── .✦

You stood beside him when the world was rebuilt.

You were there when Sirius was declared innocent, when he was free to walk into the sun with his head held high, grinning like a boy unburdened by ghosts.

You were there when Remus spoke softly in the quiet hours of the morning, voice trembling with hope, confessing that he had always wanted more than to simply survive.

You were there when Harry was born—alive and safe. When James held his son in his arms and cried without shame, his tears falling into the wild tufts of black hair on the baby’s head.

And you were there when James placed a trembling kiss against your temple, Harry cradled between you, and whispered,

“We did it.”

── .✦

Two years later, you were standing beside James at Lily and Severus’s wedding.

You had almost laughed when the invitation arrived. The ornate script, written in Lily’s elegant hand, had carried far too much smugness for a simple piece of parchment. The words had been formal and lovely, but you could still hear her voice in them—sweet and knowing, the subtext far too clear.

Told you so.

And now, standing in the evening glow of the wedding canopy, you watched as the girl with fire-bright hair clasped her hands with the boy who had once nearly lost her forever.

Severus stood at the altar, tall and lean, still a little stoic, still a little brooding—but there was softness in his eyes. A gentleness in the way he held Lily’s hands, his thumb brushing over her knuckles with quiet reverence.

And Lily—oh, she was radiant. Her hair was loose and wild, tumbling down her back in copper curls, adorned with tiny white flowers that twined through the strands. Her smile was bright enough to soften even Snape’s sharp edges, her eyes crinkling slightly at the corners as she gazed at him with unguarded adoration.

You glanced at James, who was watching them with a boyish grin, his arms folded lazily across his chest. His hair was windswept and unruly as always, the golden sunset catching the edges and turning them molten.

“They’re going to be insufferable about this, you know,” James murmured with a grin, leaning slightly into your side.

You hummed softly, tilting your head toward him. “Oh, absolutely. Lily will probably gloat about being right for the next decade.”

James smirked, dark eyes glinting with mischief. “Ten galleons says Snivellus cries during the vows.”

You shot him a deadpan look. “James, you can’t bet on their wedding.”

But he only grinned wider. “What, afraid you’ll lose?”

You rolled your eyes but fought a smile, elbowing him lightly in the ribs.

And when Lily walked down the aisle—when Severus turned toward her with something painfully soft in his eyes—James slipped his hand into yours.

His fingers wove between yours, warm and steady. His thumb brushed slow circles against your palm, as if he were trying to memorize the shape of your hand.

And when you glanced at him— He was already looking at you.

His eyes were dark and golden and entirely too soft, shining with something far too raw for a wedding.

And you knew. Right then. That he was thinking about every version of you he had ever lost. Every version of you he had loved.

And so you leaned over slightly, your voice barely louder than a breath.

“Stop looking at me like that, Potter,” you murmured teasingly.

James’s lips curved slightly, but his eyes didn’t soften. They only burned brighter.

“Like what?” he whispered, his voice barely louder than the breeze, laced with unmistakable reverence.

“Like you’re in love with me,” you teased softly, arching a playful brow.

And James—James smiled softly, eyes molten with warmth, voice rough with emotion.

“I am in love with you,” he whispered simply.

And then he was leaning down, brushing his lips against yours—slow and gentle, as if the whole world had slowed just for you.

── .✦

Later, when the sun had dipped below the horizon and the stars spilled carelessly across the sky, you stood in the garden with James, Harry fast asleep in his arms.

The evening was warm, the wind gentle, carrying the faint sound of music from the reception. The canopy was still aglow with golden lights, casting everything in soft, honeyed hues.

You watched as James shifted Harry carefully in his arms, his hand splayed protectively across his son’s back. The baby snuffled softly against his chest, tiny hands curled into fists, his breathing slow and steady.

You reached out, brushing a soft lock of hair from Harry’s forehead, and James glanced at you.

For a moment, neither of you spoke. You only stood there, bathed in the amber glow of the evening, watching the stars blink sleepily overhead.

And then James, voice barely louder than a whisper, murmured,

“Marry me.”

You froze.

Your eyes flicked to him, searching his face—certain you had misheard. But James was only looking at you softly, his eyes wide and unguarded, his voice steady despite the slight tremor in his hand.

You stared at him, your heart stuttering violently.

“James,” you breathed softly, barely able to say his name.

But he only smiled. Soft and slow and so achingly sincere.

“Marry me,” he whispered again. His voice was hoarse, barely louder than a breath. “I—I know it’s sudden. I know we’ve already stolen so much time. But—” He exhaled sharply, his voice breaking slightly. “I want this. With you. Always.”

You stared at him, your throat tightening, your eyes burning with tears you couldn’t hold back.

And when you reached for him—when your hand pressed against his cheek and you nodded, unable to speak through the lump in your throat—James let out a shaky, disbelieving breath.

And he kissed you.

Soft and trembling and impossibly tender, tasting of hope and home and every version of you he had ever loved.

And you kissed him back— Knowing that this time, In this life, You were his forever.

── .✦

Love is timeless. It does not belong to one lifetime. It exists across all of them.

── .✦

You were trembling.

Not with fear, not exactly. But with something bigger. Something heavier.

The morning sun spilled through the enormous windows of the bridal suite, bathing everything in soft, golden hues. You stood barefoot on the cool stone floor, wrapped in a silk dressing gown, staring at your reflection in the floor-length mirror.

Your fingers were cold. Your knees felt a little weak.

You were getting married. To James Potter.

And somehow, the thought made it harder to breathe.

Not because you were afraid. But because the weight of happiness pressed so fiercely against your chest, you thought it might shatter you.

── .✦

“Are you trying to hyperventilate, or does that just come naturally?”

You glanced over your shoulder to find Bellatrix standing in the doorway, one dark brow arched, her lips curled into a smirk.

She was stunning, as always, dressed in elegant silver robes that caught the morning light, the fabric shimmering faintly as she stepped into the room. Her black curls tumbled in perfect, wicked waves down her back, and her eyes glimmered with mischief.

But when she saw the trembling in your hands, the playful glint softened slightly.

“Hey,” she murmured, striding over, her voice low and surprisingly gentle. She took your hands in hers, squeezing them slightly. “You’re all right.”

You let out a shaky breath, laughing weakly. “I feel like I might pass out.”

Bellatrix’s lips twitched faintly. “I mean, if you want to cause a scene at your own wedding, be my guest. Would be pretty dramatic. Very on brand.”

You let out a watery laugh, squeezing her hands.

And then you felt a soft hand on your shoulder.

Narcissa appeared beside you, her pale blonde hair cascading in soft waves over her shoulders. She was elegant and ethereal, dressed in ice-blue robes that brought out the sharp cut of her eyes. But her voice, as always, was soft.

“You look beautiful,” she murmured, reaching out to brush a stray lock of hair from your face.

You swallowed thickly, your throat tightening.

And then there was Lily.

She stepped into the room, her auburn hair glimmering with tiny pearls woven into the braid that circled her crown. Her smile was impossibly bright, her eyes warm with too much emotion.

She held up a handkerchief dramatically. “Don’t even think about crying yet,” she teased, her voice trembling slightly despite her playful tone. “Save it for the aisle, or I swear, I’ll hex you.”

You let out a strangled laugh, already blinking back tears.

And when the three of them crowded around you—Bellatrix playfully poking at your hair, Narcissa fastening the delicate bracelet around your wrist, and Lily brushing a bit of gloss onto your lips—you felt the trembling in your hands finally still.

── .✦

The music began to play.

You stood at the edge of the garden, your hands trembling slightly around the bouquet of white lilies and wildflowers. The sun was warm against your face, the sky a soft, cloudless blue, the air perfumed with the scent of roses and honeysuckle.

And then— Harry, your precious little ring bearer, toddled out onto the stone pathway.

He was dressed in a tiny, perfectly tailored black suit, with his wild black hair sticking up in every possible direction. He held the little velvet pillow in his small hands, his bright green eyes wide with delight as the crowd let out a collective coo.

When he spotted you standing in the archway, his face split into a gap-toothed grin, and he squealed,

“Mummy!”

You let out a watery laugh, your chest tightening painfully.

But when you finally took that first step— When you slowly made your way down the aisle, surrounded by the people you loved— Your eyes found only one person.

James.

And oh, he was already crying.

You saw him before he saw you. Standing there at the end of the aisle, dressed in tailored black dress robes, the collar slightly askew, his hair hopelessly messy in that perfectly disheveled way. His hands were trembling faintly at his sides, his lips parted slightly as he stared at you.

And when his eyes finally met yours— His breath caught audibly in his throat.

You saw the moment it hit him. The moment he realized that this was real. That he wasn’t dreaming. That you were walking toward him— To be his. Forever.

And then he let out a sharp, uneven breath, his eyes glimmering with unshed tears. He dragged a hand roughly through his hair, laughing wetly through the emotion clogging his throat.

Sirius, standing beside him, smirked and clapped him roughly on the back, grinning smugly. “Told you you’d cry, mate.”

James sniffled, his voice breaking slightly. “Shut up, Pads.”

And then his eyes were back on you.

And he was beaming. Like he was seeing the sun for the first time. Like he was falling in love with you all over again.

You barely remembered walking the rest of the way. All you could see was him.

And when you finally reached him—when he took your trembling hands in his—you felt your whole chest constrict.

Because he was crying so softly, his thumbs brushing over your knuckles as if he were trying to memorize the shape of you. His hands were warm and trembling, his voice rough with emotion.

“You’re so beautiful,” he choked, voice barely louder than a breath. His eyes burned fiercely, glassy and golden. “You’re—you’re so beautiful, love.”

You let out a watery laugh, squeezing his hands.

And then the vows came.

James was shaking slightly when he slipped the ring onto your finger. His voice cracked halfway through the words, and he let out a shaky, breathless laugh, blinking rapidly.

His hands were warm, his eyes glassy and reverent as he whispered the words against your knuckles.

“I choose you,” he murmured, his voice trembling. “I’ll always choose you. In every time, in every life. It’s you.”

And when you pressed your trembling lips to his—when you felt his hands tighten desperately at your waist, holding you as though you might slip away—you knew.

That you had never belonged to just one lifetime. You had belonged to all of them. To him. Always.

── .✦

Later, when the sun was low and the garden was alight with golden lanterns, you stood with James in the orchard.

The reception carried on behind you—the clinking of glasses and soft laughter drifting through the night—but James didn’t seem to care.

He had abandoned his tie long ago, and his hair was a mess of unruly curls, golden in the lantern glow. His arms were wrapped around you, holding you too tightly, as if he was still afraid you might disappear.

“You’re mine now,” he whispered playfully against your ear, his voice low and honeyed, pressing soft kisses against your neck.

You smiled against his shoulder. “I was always yours.”

James pulled back slightly, eyes dark and molten. His voice softened, barely louder than a breath.

“You’re the best thing that ever happened to me,” he whispered hoarsely.

And when you kissed him beneath the canopy of golden lights, with the stars spilling wide and endless above you, James Potter held you like he had loved you across a thousand timelines.

Because he had. And he always would.

── .✦

Time had bent for you. It had splintered and unraveled and stitched itself back together just to bring you here— Into his arms. Where you were always meant to be.

── .✦

The stars were burning softly above the orchard, spilling across the inky blackness in glimmering constellations, as if the entire universe had come to witness the ending of your story.

Or rather, the beginning of it.

Because you weren’t running anymore. You weren’t slipping between timelines or losing yourself to fate. You were here—rooted firmly in this life, this time, with James Potter’s hands tangled in yours.

And Merlin, he was still looking at you like he couldn’t quite believe you were real.

── .✦

The reception was still alive behind you—laughter and music floating lazily through the orchard. Golden lanterns swung gently from the low branches, casting honeyed light over the dark grass.

But James didn’t seem to notice any of it.

You were his whole world.

His tie was long discarded, and his robes hung loosely around him, a few buttons undone at his collar. His hair—already unruly from the hours of dancing—was an utter mess, windswept and falling into his eyes in hopeless curls.

He was absolutely breathtaking.

And he was holding you too tightly, like he still wasn’t entirely convinced you were real.

“Merlin, I can’t stop looking at you,” he murmured, his voice rough with something deeper than reverence. His thumb brushed slowly over the back of your hand. “You’re so—bloody hell, look at you.”

You let out a breathless laugh, warmth blooming in your chest. “You’re making me sound like some divine vision, Potter,” you teased softly.

James’s lips curved slightly, but his eyes softened with something almost dangerous—something entirely too raw and reverent.

“Because you are,” he murmured, his voice so low it made your skin flush.

Your breath caught slightly at the weight of his words. At the warmth in his eyes. At the softness in his touch.

And then—because you were helpless against him—you reached up, brushing your fingers softly through his windswept hair. You let the tips of your fingers trail down the side of his face, tracing the sharp edge of his jaw.

James’s eyes fluttered shut for a moment. His breath stuttered slightly, the warmth of it fanning against your wrist.

And when he opened them again— His eyes were dark. Molten. Utterly ruined by you.

── .✦

You didn’t know how long you stood there, swaying slightly in the golden lamplight. You didn’t know how many times James pressed his lips to your knuckles, as if trying to memorize the feel of you in his hands.

But you knew that you weren’t in a hurry.

You let him pull you close, let him bury his face against your neck, breathing you in like you were air. His arms were loose around your waist, his thumbs slipping beneath the fabric of your dress, brushing slow, idle circles against the small of your back.

And when you shifted slightly in his arms, leaning into him— James let out a low, breathless sound that made your skin flush beneath the fabric of your dress.

── .✦

“Dance with me,” he murmured against your ear, his breath warm against your throat.

You let out a breathless laugh. “James, there’s no music out here.”

But he only pulled back slightly, his eyes glimmering with boyish mischief. “Since when do I need music to dance with my wife?”

The word wife sent a shiver down your spine, settling warm and heavy in your chest. And he must have seen it in your eyes. Because James’s lips curled into a wicked grin.

“Oh, you like that, don’t you?” he murmured, voice low and teasing, his nose brushing lightly against yours. “You like being my wife.”

You let out a soft, breathless laugh, rolling your eyes. “I suppose it has its perks,” you teased lightly.

James’s grin widened, his voice a low, playful rasp. “Oh, does it?”

And then he was spinning you in the dim light of the orchard, twirling you beneath the canopy of golden lanterns, his hands warm and steady in yours.

You laughed breathlessly as he tugged you close, arms winding securely around you. You pressed your face against his chest, letting the steady rhythm of his heartbeat settle against your cheek.

And James— James pressed his lips against your temple, his voice a low, lazy drawl.

“You’re stuck with me now,” he murmured playfully against your hair, his hands sliding slowly, reverently over your back. “No take-backs. You married me. It’s legally binding and everything.”

You let out a soft, breathless laugh, tilting your head back to meet his eyes. And Merlin, he was still looking at you with so much love it made your knees weak.

“Oh, I think I’ll manage,” you teased lightly, brushing your fingertips over the back of his neck.

James’s eyes glimmered with warmth, but his voice softened, barely louder than a breath.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered reverently, as if saying it too loudly would shatter you. His thumb traced along your cheekbone, eyes dark with awe. “You’re—you’re so bloody beautiful, love.”

You leaned into his touch, your lips parting softly.

And then he was kissing you.

Softly at first. Slow and reverent, his lips barely brushing over yours— As if he were still tasting the promise of forever on your mouth.

But then— Then the kiss deepened.

James’s hands slid lower, gripping your waist tightly, pulling you flush against him. You let out a soft, surprised gasp, and James swallowed the sound with a low, breathless hum, his lips dragging over yours with slow, teasing purpose.

His fingers splayed over the small of your back, slipping just beneath the fabric of your dress, his touch impossibly warm. He pressed you closer, as if he could make you a part of him— As if he were still afraid you might slip through his fingers.

“Merlin, I love you,” he rasped against your lips, his voice low and uneven, hoarse with longing. His teeth grazed your bottom lip slightly, sending a delicious shiver down your spine.

And oh— You were trembling slightly in his arms. Not with nervousness. But with want.

And James— James, who had always been golden and mischievous and utterly smitten— Noticed immediately.

His eyes darkened slightly. His lips parted faintly, breath uneven.

“Love,” he murmured lowly, his voice rough around the edges, “if you keep looking at me like that, I might do something utterly indecent at our wedding reception.”

You let out a breathless laugh, cheeks flushing faintly. “Oh? That’s unlike you, Potter,” you teased, your voice barely louder than a murmur.

And James— Oh, he grinned wickedly, lowering his mouth to your ear.

“You have no idea, Mrs. Potter.”

His voice was a low rasp, his lips grazing the shell of your ear with slow, torturous reverence. His breath was warm against your skin, and his fingers—Merlin, his fingers were dangerously slow as they traced teasing circles along your spine.

Your breath caught slightly, your heart hammering violently in your chest. And James—James only grinned wider.

“Shall we sneak away, love?” he murmured silkily, brushing a teasing kiss against your throat, lips warm and deliberate. “Or do I have to suffer through another hour of dancing with respectable people before I get you all to myself?”

You laughed softly, breathless, your cheeks warm and flushed.

And when you leaned up on your toes, brushing your lips teasingly against his, you whispered,

“Take me home, Mr. Potter.”

And James— James smiled against your lips, utterly ruined by you. Because you already were. You always had been. His home.

── .✦

The universe had been cruel. It had torn you from your timeline, stripped you from the arms of the people you loved, and scattered you across history. But in return— It gave you this. Him. Them. A future you had never dared to dream of.

── .✦

The cottage was small, but it was yours.

Tucked away in the countryside, hidden behind sprawling fields of wildflowers and enchanted thickets, it stood like something out of a dream. The stone walls were weathered but sturdy, honey-gold in the morning sun. The windows were always open, letting in the scent of lavender and fresh-cut grass, and the chimney was forever puffing lazy ribbons of smoke into the sky.

It wasn’t grand. It wasn’t a manor. But it was warm and worn and safe. And it was home.

── .✦

You awoke slowly to the feel of warm, slightly chapped lips pressing soft, lazy kisses along your shoulder.

You let out a drowsy sigh, rolling over slightly to meet James’s half-lidded gaze. His hair was an absolute mess—dark and rumpled and deliciously wild against the pillows. His eyes were still heavy with sleep, golden in the morning light, and he was looking at you like you were the first sunrise he had ever seen.

“Morning, Mrs. Potter,” he murmured hoarsely, voice thick with sleep, his lips brushing lightly over the tip of your nose.

You smiled faintly, brushing a hand through his hair. “Morning, Mr. Potter.”

James let out a soft, contented hum, burying his face into the curve of your neck. His arms tightened slightly around your waist, pulling you closer, as if the entire bed were too big without you in his arms.

“Mmm, don’t move,” he grumbled drowsily, his voice muffled against your skin. “You’re warm. Stay right here. Forever.”

You let out a sleepy laugh, running your fingers lazily through the thick curls at the nape of his neck.

But then— A loud crash echoed from the hallway, followed by the unmistakable sound of something heavy hitting the floor.

You and James froze.

Then— The distinct sound of tiny, gleeful giggles.

James groaned dramatically, his face still buried against your throat. “Your son is a menace,” he mumbled, voice muffled with mock exhaustion.

You smiled, brushing your lips lightly against the crown of his head. “Our son,” you corrected softly, but there was nothing but adoration in your voice.

James let out a low, exaggerated groan, flopping onto his back. “Merlin help me.”

And then the bedroom door burst open.

“Da!! Mummy!!”

Harry, still in his little blue pajamas, came sprinting into the room, clutching a suspiciously bent toy broom in one hand. His wild black hair was an absolute disaster—sticking up in every possible direction, an adorable replica of his father’s morning mess. His green eyes were wide with childish delight, a bright, mischievous grin tugging at his tiny lips.

He launched himself onto the bed with absolutely no regard for either of you.

James let out a low oof as Harry pounced onto his chest, sprawling over him with all the elegance of a baby thestral.

“Merlin’s beard, Prongs Junior!” James groaned dramatically, mock-gasping for air. “You’re going to break my ribs, you absolute menace.”

But Harry only grinned wider, clearly unimpressed with his father’s suffering, and bounced gleefully on James’s chest.

James made a loud, strangled, dying-man sort of sound, throwing his head back with mock agony. “Darling!! Help me! Our son is trying to murder me!”

You arched a brow, lips twitching. “Oh no,” you deadpanned flatly. “How tragic.”

James shot you an utterly betrayed look, gaping at you like you had personally destroyed his soul.

“You betrayed me, wife?” he gasped, clutching his chest dramatically.

Harry squealed with delight at his father’s theatrics, utterly oblivious to James’s Oscar-worthy performance of a man meeting his untimely end.

You simply shook your head with mock solemnity, rolling your eyes. “Potter, you’re being outwitted by a four-year-old.”

James stared at you, lips twitching with mock indignation, then turned his attention back to the tiny boy currently using him as a human trampoline.

“Oi, you,” he gasped weakly at Harry, voice hoarse with false agony. “Don’t you want to save your dear old dad? Be my hero? My knight in shining armor?”

Harry only giggled maniacally, gripping his bent broomstick and declaring with great importance, “I’m gonna be a seeker!”

James let out a soft, incredulous laugh, eyes bright with warmth.

“Merlin, you’re going to give me a heart attack,” he muttered, ruffling his son’s hair fondly. But he was grinning like a fool, eyes glimmering with a ridiculous amount of pride.

You watched them quietly for a moment. James. Harry. Your entire world pressed into the same bed, giggling beneath the golden morning light.

And just for a moment— You allowed yourself to pretend you had always belonged here.

── .✦

The fireplace roared suddenly with green flames, and in strolled Sirius Black, entirely uninvited.

“Prongs!” Sirius barked cheerfully, arms flung wide as if announcing his arrival to a crowd of thousands. “I come bearing whiskey, terrible advice, and absolutely no concept of personal boundaries!”

James’s grin widened immediately. “Now there’s my responsible fatherhood role model.”

You groaned softly, covering your face with one hand. “Oh no.”

But it was already too late.

Sirius strolled into the living room like he owned the place, his black hair tousled in artful disarray, a cocky grin tugging at his lips. He bent down dramatically, ruffling Harry’s hair with enough force to make the boy squeal with delighted laughter.

“Look at you, little menace!” Sirius crowed, plucking Harry off the ground with exaggerated flair, tossing him lightly in the air. “Merlin, you’re almost as big as your old man.”

Harry squealed gleefully, grabbing at Sirius’s hair with tiny fists.

James’s eyes widened slightly. “Oi, gently, Padfoot!” he barked, though he was grinning far too widely to be genuinely concerned.

But before James could intervene, Remus strolled in through the front door, already exuding the aura of the only sane person in the room.

He shook his head fondly, running a hand through his sandy hair. “Honestly, I don’t know why I still expect you lot to act like responsible adults.”

Sirius snorted loudly, tossing Harry lightly onto the couch with a dramatic flourish.

“Responsible adults?” he sneered with mock outrage, planting a hand on his chest. “I’ll have you know, Moony, I once drank half a bottle of Fire whiskey, dueled a goblin, and convinced a centaur to let me ride him through the Forbidden Forest—all in the same night.”

Remus arched a brow, utterly unimpressed. “You also got a month’s detention and lost two teeth, if I recall correctly.”

Sirius’s eyes narrowed slightly. “That’s slander, Lupin. Absolute slander.”

You let out a soft, breathless laugh, watching them fondly. And for a moment— Just for a moment— You forgot that they had once been nothing but memories. Phantom faces in a future you could no longer reach. For now, they were here. They were real. And Merlin, you held on to them like they might slip through your fingers.

── .✦

The cottage was silent that evening—Harry long since tucked into bed, his tiny hands clutching the worn stag plush James had gifted him.

You stood by the window, staring out at the endless black, your breath fogging the glass.

And when you closed your eyes, you could see them.

Ron, throwing his head back in laughter, eyes glinting with boyish mischief. Hermione’s soft, steady voice as she carefully unwound the impossible knots of the world with quiet brilliance. And Harry—your Harry— Older. Burdened. Carrying too much weight for one boy.

You pressed your palm lightly to the windowpane, as if you could reach through the glass and touch the life you left behind.

But it was James who found you. Always.

You didn’t hear him enter the room. But you felt his arms slip around you from behind, warm and familiar. Without a word, he pressed his lips softly to your shoulder.

“Can’t sleep, darling?” he murmured softly, voice low and sleep-rough.

You swallowed thickly, leaning back into him, your fingers tangling loosely with his.

“Just thinking,” you whispered faintly.

James was quiet for a moment. And then— He squeezed you a little tighter.

“About them?” he asked softly, no accusation in his voice. Only understanding.

You nodded, your breath hitching slightly. And James— He pressed his lips against the curve of your jaw, his voice barely louder than a breath.

“You don’t have to forget them, my love,” he murmured, softly, reverently. “You just have to keep living.”

And you let him hold you. Because somehow, James knew how to make the grief feel a little softer. A little quieter. Like something you could carry, rather than be crushed beneath.

── .✦

The evening was soft and golden, the fire crackling faintly in the hearth. James was slouched in the armchair, legs dangling lazily over the side, a book balanced haphazardly on his chest. His hair was a complete mess, dark curls tumbling over his forehead.

You sat on the couch with your legs tucked beneath you, an old quilt draped over your lap, fingers absentmindedly running over the worn fabric.

The room was quiet, save for the occasional flutter of parchment as James absentmindedly flipped a page.

Then— Without warning, James’s voice broke the silence.

“Do you ever regret it?” he asked softly, his voice barely louder than a whisper.

You blinked, looking over at him, your breath catching slightly at the softness in his eyes.

“Regret what?” you asked faintly, though you already knew.

James’s eyes didn’t leave yours. “Staying,” he murmured, voice quiet and earnest. “Choosing me. Choosing this life.”

Your chest tightened slightly at the rawness in his voice—the quiet, vulnerable plea behind his words.

You were silent for a long moment. And then— You rose slowly from the couch, padding across the room and climbing into his lap.

James’s arms wound around you immediately, pulling you closer, holding you like he was still afraid you might slip away.

You pressed your lips softly to his temple, voice low and trembling with certainty.

“Never,” you whispered fiercely. “Not for a second.”

James let out a breathless sound, somewhere between a laugh and a sob, burying his face into the crook of your neck.

And he held you. And you held him back. And the life you left behind—the one you would always carry with you—felt a little lighter, a little softer.

Because here, in this time, In this life, You were home.

[moonstruckme]

my queen of comfort 🙇🏻‍♀️

can i pls request a marauders with reader who has seasonal depression and it gets bad especially during the winters??? thank u 🫶

Thanks for being patient with me lovely <3

cw: depression, no harmful thoughts but general apathy and lethargy

Sirius Black x fem!reader ♡ 995 words

It’s warm in your bed. Almost too warm. The backs of your knees and the place where your arm is folded against your side feel uncomfortably heated. But Sirius kisses the back of your neck when he wakes, and you wouldn’t move for anything. 

“Let’s go to the farmer’s market today,” he says, voice sticky with sleep.

You look out the crack in the curtains covering your bedroom window. “It’s so cold out, though.” 

“So we’ll bundle up. You can put your hands in my pockets if you don’t feel like wearing your gloves.” His nose bumps your nape as he kisses you again. “It’ll be very romantic. The woman who sells the apple tarts said she’d be back this week, remember?” 

“Oh, yeah. I’m okay.” 

“You won’t let me get my girl a sweet? I thought you really liked those.” 

“I do, just.” Just. It feels like it’s all you say lately, like all you do is make excuses. Just, just, just. “It doesn’t seem worth it. It’s really gross outside.” 

Sirius’ arm comes around your waist. He doesn’t contradict you. It’s dreary and gray out your window, drizzling rain that bites like ice when it lands on your skin. You’d rather lose track of the day lying here with him, let it slip through your fingers and not think very hard about what it means that you have. Sirius’ fingers playing with yours make this all the more appealing. 

“What if we went to the cinema?” he asks. “That comedy film is showing this weekend.” 

“Didn’t James want to see that one?” 

“Think so, yeah.” 

“You should take him.” 

“I don’t want to take James.” Your joined hands press to your hip, a gentle request for you to turn around. But you don’t want to look at him, and Sirius doesn’t make you. He squeezes your fingers instead. “I want to take you.” 

That’s the important bit. Sirius doesn’t care about the farmer’s market, or even really about the film. You know he only wants you to get up, to go anywhere and do anything at all, and you feel like shit for resisting him. You shouldn’t, either. You know how sadness can sink its talons in the longer it holds you. 

“I’m sorry. Yeah, let’s go.” 

“Don’t be sorry, lovely girl,” he chides fondly. “We don’t have to go if you won’t enjoy it. What do you want to do?” 

You try to muster something for him, you really do, but after a handful of hapless moments you can only be honest. 

“I don’t think I want anything.” 

“That’s okay.” Sirius drops a kiss on your shoulder. “Hey, could you look at me? Please?” 

You roll over, miserable and made more miserable by the aching tenderness in your boyfriend’s expression. This new spot on the bed is colder than where you’d been, but Sirius’ knee bumps against yours, his palm slipping beneath your head on the pillow. He doesn’t hesitate to touch you. Doesn't treat you like you’re breakable or wrong or contagious. His hand flattens under your cheek and warms your skin like he can bleed goodness into you. 

“It’s okay,” he says again, softly. 

“I’m sorry.” 

Sirius tsks. “Now what for?” 

“Making things so hard,” you murmur. You’re trying not to disturb his palm with your mouth movements. 

“Sweetheart, nothing’s hard when I’m with you. I just want to be with you. We can just sit here and talk all day if you want.” 

“I don’t think I’m very nice to talk to right now.” 

“What does that matter? I know I’m awful to talk to half the time. We can be morbid bellyachers together.” 

With some effort, you lift one corner of your mouth. Sirius kisses it rewardingly. 

“You are a delight to talk to, by the way. Always.” 

“A delight?” you whisper. 

“Mhm.” 

There’s a piece of his hair that’s arching over his face, all sprightly and mussed about by the pillowcase. You’re close enough that it moves when you breathe. You blow, and it tickles Sirius’ nose. He smiles. 

“I don’t think I want to talk,” you admit. 

“That’s okay.” 

“I know I’m not fun to be around right now. I’m sorry, I don’t mean to make everything miserable.” You look at the dip of his cupid’s bow rather than his eyes. “I love you.” 

It feels important to say. Even when you’re dropping it in his lap awkwardly, like a plea. 

Sirius tilts his head until his eyes meet yours. Dark lashes and silver pools, like moonlight glancing off water. “I love you,” he says, so sincere it burns. “I have another idea.” 

You hum. 

“We watch a film here instead. Or a show, whatever. But first, you tell me how to make french toast so we can have some for breakfast.” 

“You don’t want me to make it?” You don’t want to, but you’d try for him. 

“I want to do something for you.” He kisses you, soft and sweet. He tastes like sleep. “But you’re allowed to help if you like.” 

Allowed amuses you, though you don’t smile. Sirius’ eyes glint like he can tell just the same. 

“You do lots of things for me,” you say. 

“Good. I’d like to continue adding to the tally; it’s how I keep my edge.” 

You look at Sirius, thinking of how much you must love him for it to ache this deeply. Thinking of how he loves you, and how unfair it seems. He keeps doing it even when you give him every reason not to. 

Sirius can tell you’ve slipped away. He strokes his thumb over your cheek. “So, what do you say, gorgeous?” 

You don’t really want to eat french toast. You think you’d swallow battery acid if he made it for you, though. “It sounds nice.” 

“Yeah?” He grins. “Okay, let’s go then, yeah? I’m starving.” 

You give Sirius your hands when he reaches for them, and you let him pull you up.