#sirius has a thing for remus in a white t-shirt

[tortoisebore]

please please can we get a post of remus calling sirius baby for the first time bc im obsessed and want to know every detail about sirius’ outfit and how it went down

YES YES YES 👹👹👹👹👹👹👹👹👹

Remus was too drunk for this. Well—maybe drunk was the wrong word. His blood alcohol level was probably still somewhere in the realm of tipsy, but his brain was sluggish. Slow-moving. A disastrous combination of desire and want and pure, unadulterated filth. His limbs felt heavy and too-long as he stood slouched against the wall, gripping an empty glass hard enough to be absently worried it would shatter in his hand. Watching.  Lily had described the place as a bar but it felt more like a club, all low, colorful lights and blaring music, an open space in the middle of the room and tall tables lining the walls. It was loud, Remus was just on the drunk side of tipsy, and Sirius was a fucking dream. 

All things considered, Remus had done a really great job of being normal up until an hour or so ago. He hadn’t lost his shit when Sirius appeared at his door in a giant gray coat with his hair up, tied messily off his neck, fully flaunting the faint bruise Remus had left below his ear two days before. That damn glitter was on his eyes again, catching the light and working in tandem with the faint smudgy black lining his lashes to make his eyes look less gray and more glowing, molten silver. Remus had nearly fallen to his knees, had nearly said 'fuck it' and yanked Sirius inside instead of following through with the going out plan, but he’d been very regular about it—just choked out a simple little ‘you look nice,’ swallowing hard when Sirius smiled sweetly and took his hand as they traipsed down the stairs and out of the building. 

Then they’d arrived at the bar, and Sirius had slipped his coat off, and Remus’ poor, piece of shit brain had immediately broken. 

So now here he was, fighting for his life standing around a table in the corner, unable to wrench his eyes away from the three-inch strip of bare skin on Sirius’ stomach while he waited for drinks at the bar. He was wearing a short, black tee shirt with an open back over some see-through, lacy thing that hugged his waist, showing off the tail end of the dagger tattoo on his stomach and the beginnings of the vines on his hips before they disappeared beneath straight-legged black pants that fit so perfectly Remus could have cried. He was leaned up against the bar artfully, tapping the toe of his platform boot against the floor, chatting idly with Marlene while they waited for the bartender. 

Remus thought he might be drooling.

Sirius had been flitting between the bar and the dance floor and their table in the corner all night, leaving Remus with a never-ending supply of drinks and all these evil, lingering touches, whispers near his ear disguised as kisses on his cheek that twisted his gut and made his fingers itch to touch and grab and hold. This thing between them was still new, only a couple weeks old, and Remus was really really trying to reign himself in, but god, he wanted to touch. Wanted to bite and lick and taste, felt drunk on desire more than liquor by the time Sirius came back with two more neon-colored drinks in sweaty glasses. 

“Yours,” he chirped over the music, finally, finally sliding in close and depositing Remus’ drink on the sticky tabletop. Remus eyed him as he sipped at his straw, looking up at him with wide, innocent eyes. It was blatantly obvious that Sirius knew exactly what he was doing, and that it was working. Remus glanced around, watched Marlene saunter off to join Dorcas across the room, and slipped a hand around Sirius’ waist, backing himself into the wall and pulling Sirius with him.

“You look…” he started, shamelessly trailing his eyes down and then back up Sirius’ frame, shaking his head with a sigh when every word he could think of fell short of the actual ethereal being currently pressed up against him. 

“I look what?” Sirius prodded, sliding his drink onto the table without looking, snaking his arms up Remus’ chest and around his shoulders, a smug, sly sort of smile tugging at his stained, cherry-red lips. 

Remus was too fucking drunk for this.

He managed to get a hand to Sirius’ jaw, tipping his head back just enough to brush their lips together, reveling in the hitched breath it pulled from his throat. 

“You look fucking perfect,” he muttered, letting Sirius lean in only to pull back. Remus’ vision was swirling, heart thundering in his chest when Sirius gave a quiet little whine of complaint, dragging blunt nails across the back of his neck. Remus gave in, let him press a too-short, too-soft kiss to his lips before tilting Sirius’ head to the side, mouthing down his jaw to get at that faint little bruise beneath his ear and nipping at it softly, eyes fluttering closed at the taste of his skin, speaking before he could think. “You’re killing me over here, baby.”

Fuck—his stomach dropped instantly. He’d never said that before, never used any kind of pet name for Sirius at all, and it felt foreign in his mouth, foreign to his ears, settled badly in his stomach when Sirius let out a sharp exhale and reeled back. Remus was prepared to pretend it had never happened, maybe blame it on those neon colored drinks that kept appearing in his hands—but the words died on his tongue. 

Sirius’ eyes were wide, flicking back and forth fast between his own, cheeks flushed a pretty pink. Remus waited, watched Sirius look down at his lips and then back up, and barely heard him breathe, “Say it again,” over the music.

He hesitated, studied Sirius’ face carefully to make sure he wasn’t reading it all wrong, and teased, “You’re killing me over here?”

Sirius shook his head, a hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “The other thing.”

“What?” Remus asked, dragging a thumb down his jaw, the desire to sink through the floor disappearing into thin air as he watched Sirius’ pupils dilate, felt his fingers trip up to tug at his hair. “Baby?”

Sirius nodded, pulling him in close and speaking low. “Yeah,” he smiled, “that one.”

Remus kissed him, had to, pulled him in with two hands on the side of his neck and bit at his lower lip, tasted artificial cherry and vodka and felt his stomach drop when Sirius gave a sweet little whine, pulling back just enough to speak.

“Again,” he whispered, melting further into Remus’ chest, looking up at him with that smug little grin that made his heart stutter. 

“Baby,” Remus repeated, kissing him again, fingers curling into the hair at the nape of his neck, brain working overdrive, whirring loud in his ears. “My perfect, pretty baby.”

Sirius let loose a string of colorful curses that made Remus laugh before he was pulled in again. Sirius was seemingly entirely finished with teasing—kissed him hard and bit at his lip and slid his hands heavily back down his chest. He pulled away after several long moments, a deep flush staining his cheeks, and gave Remus a look.

“Don’t drink anymore,” he ordered, a secret sort of smile playing at the corner of his mouth. Remus’ skin tingled, heat racing down his spine.

“No?” he smirked, instantly grabbing for Sirius’ hand to keep him close when he stepped back. 

“No.” He reached across the table and grabbed an abandoned water on the other side—James’, most likely—sipping at it instead of the bright red drink he’d just brought over. "We should go to yours after this."

Remus was very, very on board with that.

The Outfit™️

[super-clearlysaltybouquet]

The One With the Blouse (1/2)

Part 1/2

Wolfstar x reader      Sirius Black x reader      Remus Lupin x reader      Sirius Black x Remus Lupin      Sirius Black x reader x Remus Lupin 

Established couple (throuple)

Summary: Reader cares about how people see her, tensions boil over when the group get ready for a Gryffindor party

Warnings:

Angst (argument)

Hurt (and minimal comfort…)

Lots of insecurity, feeling disposable in a relationship

my first fic ever so please be kind…will potentially write a part 2 if people like this one (feedback is welcomed)

word count: 1.8k

Sirius looks so pretty in his white blouse. The silk brings out his dark hair perfectly, and the fabrics warm undertones complimented his pale skin. “Is all the fuss really necessary?” Sirius asked, bothering with the bow neckline of the blouse.

“You want to look good, don’t you?” You respond stiffly, tying, and re-tying the bow, unsatisfied with how it sits around his neck. 

“You forgot to Iron it.”, you say, Tying, untying, re-tying. Completely zeroed in.

“Does it really matter?” Sirius responds, completely exasperated.

Remus watches on from the armchair by his bed. It’s standard routine at this point. Before every common room party, Remus is ready by dinner - always a plain top and trousers, today a white T-shirt with blue jeans. “Very James Dean”, Sirius had said. He's been sitting there entirely patient on the same armchair for the past two hours, reading only half attentively as you and Sirius get ready.

“Sweetheart, the bow is fine”, Remus advises gently. He’s not in a rush, but he can tell that as much as you usually enjoy it, today the up-doing process is stressing you out. 

“No..no, not yet”, you respond absentmindedly, still fixated on Sirius’s blouse. 

Tying, untying, re-tying the bow. Sirius huffs out a humourless laugh and takes a quick step back turning completely away from you. Your hands are still held up, frozen where his neck would be. Your eyebrows furrow, and Remus looks up from his book.

“It’s the same every bloody time!”, Sirius suddenly cries out, you’re completely taken aback. 

“Sirius”, Remus warns.

“Godric, Forgive me! I didn’t iron my fucking blouse!”, he feigns, “You’re suffocated me” he finishes, coldly, glaring daggers straight through you. He’s still so beautiful, with his ebony hair hanging long and dark over his face, but the pit in your stomach is somehow darker. 

Remus is stood to his full height now, book abandoned. “You’re out of line”, his anger still somehow contained. And Sirius has the gall to let out a laugh. The party in the common room seems to have started. You can hear music and laughing below the bluestone floors. You try and divert your focus to that lively sound and take it off the painful bob in your throat. 

“I’m out of line? You’re kidding Moony”, Sirius laughs. his lack of sincerity is incredibly unnerving. “The bitch is vapid”, and your heart nearly stops, you can feel the sick climbing up your throat. Remus is seething, but you’re not sure he knows exactly what to say anyway. 

“What?”, is all you can muster hopelessly. 

Sirius takes a step towards you, and you all seem to move at once. You take one step back at the same time Remus steps between you and the shorter boy.

“Cut it out Sirius”, Remus warns, towering above the both of you with his height, and his domineering demeanour. But Sirius is undeterred.

“You. are. entirely. vapid”, he repeats, now looking over at you past Remus’s shoulder. “you’re just like my mother” he whispers to himself, like some sort of secret revelation, and you just want it all to end. “Completely superficial, shallow, and entirely vapid” he seethes, before turning back away from you again, taking in a slow deep breath. You think you can hear his heart beating nearly just as quick as yours.

Sirius’s accusation sits inside you. You can’t deny that you do like nice things. Your jewellery was all made custom, you shopped at the best boutiques on Diagon Alley, and you kept up appearances. 

Your parents have always been devastatingly high-achieving. You were no stranger to the odd charity gala, or pureblood ball. So, for you that meant endless expectations to live up to. Making sure clothes were ironed, hair was done right and shoes were all polished was just second nature. You pay attention to these things because you have to. Your label as a “washed-up-witch” in Witch Weekly’s coverage of the Macmillan ball in 72 serves as a reminder. Filtered through pre-teen public humiliation, these things stick. As deflated as you felt regarding Sirius’s outburst, you could feel an equal anger bubbling just below the surface. 

“You did not just compare me to your draconian fanatic of a mother”, is the first thing that leaves your lips. Your eyes are wide, and that anger is bubbling over. Yet, your voice is so level that you think you just might have the upper hand. You can tell that Sirius was expecting you to respond with equal fervour, he wanted a fight, and your composure has caught him off guard. You think for a second, maybe he didn’t even mean to hurt you. 

Remus would back you up if you needed him to, but he knows you really don’t need him to. You’d like to say your piece, and he gives your hand a gentle squeeze in support.

“Just because you can afford to reject tradition and expectation doesn’t mean we all have that luxury” you seethe.

Sirius has always had the reputation of a Black Sheep, but it made him shine nevertheless. Every act of rebellion on his part was praised and admired by your peers. But as a woman in the 70s, and the only child in a pureblood family - you were often subject to incomparable scrutiny.

“Maybe I’m too much sometimes” your voice breaks, and the tears have started to flow of their own accord now. Rushing like silent broken faucets, or shower heads. Sirius’s eyes flash with regret. You look up at the ceiling to blink them back, and Remus gives your hand another squeeze, silently shaking his head and biting his tongue. He’s glaring at Sirius with a healthy mixture of disappointment, and something akin to fury.

“I can’t help but care about how I look”, you whisper to no one in particular, “This is usually fun, getting dressed up together”, and Sirius looks completely in despair. That almost cocky, goading aura that surrounded him has been evaporated by your undeniable heartbreak. He’s fidgeting with the hem of the blouse now, and his fingers move hesitantly up to his neckline, where your hands sat only moments ago. He’s palming at the skin there, as it slowly turns pink from the pressure.

“I’m only fussy because I care, Sirius”, you say wavering, lip quivering as your crying takes both your eyes, and your voice. He can’t look you in the eye.

The subtext isn’t missed by either of the boys, you care because you love them. You enjoy dressing them up because you want them to look good and enjoy themselves. To protect them from any anxiety associated with landing on a worst dressed list, even informally among the Gryffindor party-goers three flood below.

You look down at your disco boots, perfect stockings and shift dress. It all feels so silly now, wearing the outfit you picked out three days in advance. You want to crawl out of your skin, and you really don’t feel like dancing. Sirius is still palming at his collarbones, staring with dazed and shallow eyes at his feet and the floor below them. You can’t see his face properly behind his hair, but you know him well enough to think he might be crying too. “I hope you’re proud of yourself Black” Remus chimes in, and you wince at the use of that last name. Remus’s hand rubs small circles around the back of your neck, you can't help but want his hot skin off you.

“I-I didn’t-”, Sirius starts, but you walk from the room with Remus quick at your heels before he can finish. 

The stairway down to the common room is empty, with the party building up below. It’s just you and Remus standing still on the stairs. “You know he didn’t mean that”, Remus says kindly, more for your sake than Sirius’s. He’s brushing the tears from your cheeks with his thumbs, and gently pushing the hair back from around your face. “He gets like this when he’s stressed, it’s not your fault”, he reassures, kissing the top of your head. 

“I stressed him, I should have just let him be”, you whisper, and Remus is silent. This is the first big fight you've had as a couple. You’re a slightly more recent addition to their pairing. Quips and little disagreements have never been an issue. Even when you were all just friends these things were always resolved in a matter of minutes - or a few hours at most, but this is the first time a spat has ended in tears. 

You wonder if this was a mistake. You hope to Godric that Remus isn’t thinking it too. “I think I’ll go to bed”, you say finally, and you can feel him frown. 

“But you were so excited for tonight” he says sadly, more of an acknowledgment, you know he doesn’t mean to change your mind. You’re all hardly in the mood for a party.

“Maybe you and Sirius can still have some fun”, and you hope it doesn’t come across as bitter, but Remus’s solemn expression suggests otherwise, he lets it go.

“I’ll talk to him”, Remus assures, as he molds his body around yours in a much-needed embrace. Having him so close stirs a vulnerability within you, and you’re sure that if you could see his face, you wouldn't have the courage to open your mouth. 

“Maybe we were wrong”, you whisper into his chest, scared. 

Remus is burning 20 degrees hotter.

“What makes you say that?”, he responds measured, but the unease in his voice is palpable. He’s pulled back to look at your face now, and you fidget under his gaze. You give him a look to say without words, ‘are you kidding?’.

“But you know we love you”, Remus says desperately, more of a question than a statement, gripping the sides of your head firmly, so as to say, ‘please believe me’. You just shake your head between his hands. “You heard him, didn’t you?”, you start, “Completely superficial, shallow, and entirely vapid” you quote, and Remus cringes. 

“I’ll talk to him”, he repeats.

“No, no its okay, I’m going to bed”, you say, almost completely defeated by the tidal wave of self-doubt flooding through you.

“Dove-”

“How about you talk to him, and you two can decide what we do from here”, Remus looks heartbroken at the implication.

“Surely you don’t think we don’t want to see you anymore?”, There seems to be something sparkly welling in his eyes too, Godric, what a horrible evening.

You’re so in your head you hardly register Remus’s question. When he goes to pull you close again you take a small step back, your fingers still interlinked. The moonlight shines in through the stained glass, and the sparkle of salt in Remus’s eyes begins to fall. You can hear Diana Ross’s smooth voice echoing off the stone from downstairs, tonight could have gone so differently. You can’t help but feel you’ve caused all this. Whatever animosity Sirius seems to have been harbouring towards you, you’re sure it lives inside Remus too, even if you can’t see it yet. You turn around before you have the chance to look back.

“I’m going to bed”.

[fourmoony]

𝐨𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐤𝐧𝐞𝐞𝐬

james potter x f!reader

summary: james and reader have sexual tension

cw: smut, fingering, oral (f), language, drinking, mdni

1.2k, wrote this while listening to KHELANI by Jordan Adetunji, highly recommend

James is across the living room, almost hidden by the crowd of people around him. You can just see him through the gap in Sirius and Remus' heads. He's laughing at something one of them has said, teeth a pearly white against the dim lighting in the room, lips full and tinted red from cherry vodka. His hair is a haphazard mess on his head, the neck of his t-shirt stretched out from Sirius' inability to be aware of personal space when he's drunk.

The party's loud. It's rowdy and bordering on a police visit. There's people everywhere, an overwhelming number of bodies pressing against you. You let them pass, sip from the cup in your hand, pretend to listen to the girls as they shout over the deep bass of the music. Adrenaline flows through your veins, eyes trained solely on James. He's ethereal, in his element, a greek god of a man. He's enticing, a need growing in the pits of your belly until you're practically begging him to look at you.

He does. Quickly, at first, as though checking you're still in the general vicinity. It's your pleased smile that has his eyes landing on you a second time, discarding everyone around him as his eyes zero in on yours. His gaze is charged, his face perfectly neutral. Your hands flex around your cup, lips tilting up at the corners. A mutual understanding passes, the build and snap of restraint.

The bass of the music from Sirius' sound system travels up your legs, hits your chest.

James dismisses himself wordlessly, walks with his eyes on you until he's practically barging Lily and Marlene to the side. They hardly bother. Your head tilts to meet James' gaze. Slow, calculated. It makes James' jaw clench. "Good night?" He asks as he dips closer to your ear.

Your eyes shutter closed at the proximity, the warmth of his breath on your neck, the smell of him. Woodsy, clean. The forrest when the sun breaks through the trees after a storm. "Could be better."

James pulls back to read your expression. It takes everything to keep it neutral when his head tilts to the side, when his eyes narrow like he can see right through you. There's something about James that you can never pinpoint. He's sweet, he's funny. Maybe it's the drink or the darkness of the room, the slow bass of the music, you're not sure. But like this, at parties, finding each other in the corner of the room, James seems... different. Sexually charged energy exudes from him in a way it doesn't any other time.

Your pulse quickens when he reaches to brush a strand of hair from your shoulder, hand cupping and thumb pressing to the skin, feeling the quick beat. "What kind of host would I be if I didn't offer to make it a better evening, for you?" James asks.

"A bad one." You shrug.

You're not sure if it's that exact sentence that does it. The challenge in your tone, the half-lidded close of your eyes, or the way your bottom lip folds between your teeth. But James has you in his bedroom in a minute flat, back against the door and his lips against your neck. His hips press you to the cool wood, hands hiking up your skirt until they're firmly on your hips.

He's everywhere at once, firm and filthy. You're not sure you imagined James like this, ever. His nails press half moons into the very top of your ass, his grip firm. He kisses fast, lips eager to travel every inch of skin he can get. Across your jaw, down your throat, teeth scraping and nipping at your pulse point, your collar bones, the round of your shoulder, until his weight against you is the only thing holding you up.

"James," You whine, hands fisted in the material of his shirt, head spinning. "Jamie."

You feel him smirk against the swell of your tits, the nip of his teeth. "Yeah?"

"Need more."

His hands squeeze at the flesh of your ass, pulling his head up until he's directly in front of you, eye to eye. "Tell me if you want me to stop."

The breath stills in your lungs, barely managing a nod before James sinks to his knees. His hands are soft, running paths of goose bumps across your thighs, down your calves. His hand circles your ankle, lifts gently the crook of your knee rests over his shoulder. Your head thumps against the wood of the door, a moan slipping from between kiss bitten lips.

James looks sinful, on his knees, chin resting against your sternum. He pushes your skirt up further, presses a kiss just below your belly button. Your thumb swipes across his brow, a breathy sound leaving you. He doesn't waste time, kisses his way down until the only part of his face visible are his long lashes. Your hands find purchase in his hair, his hands on your hips, pressing you to the door on one wobbly leg.

His tongue swipes once, a test. Your heel digs into his spine in response, fingers twitching in his hair. He licks a second time with more intent, teeth scraping gently. It sends you jolting, moaning his name. It spurs James on, long, languid strokes of his tongue that have you writhing against him. His nose bumps against you, a dizzying euphoria that has your hips fighting against the grip of his hands for more.

One of his hands slips, drags across the underside of your thigh until he's switching out his tongue for his fingers, lips everywhere on the sides of your thighs. He presses a finger in, thick and filling. He crooks at the top, sends you spiralling until you're unaware where you are, chasing nothing but the pleasure he offers you. James smiles against your skin, whispers how good you are, how well you're taking his fingers, how good you feel squeezing around them.

"Fuck, I'm close, James." You whine.

James smiles, looks up boyishly, proud. He looks so beautiful, lips smeared with your slick, hair a mess where your hands are tangled in ink coloured curls. "Yeah?" He asks, breathlessly. "Show me."

The moan that leaves your throat is guttural. James adds a second finger, uses his tongue to swirl around your clit. The band of pleasure in your stomach pulls taught as you babble nonsense, too distracted by the beautiful, muscled man on his knees below you to care about how stupid and desperate you sound.

James' fingers move in tandem with his tongue, fast and harsh, a perfect mix that has you clenching down against him in minutes, an embarrassingly loud moan tumbling from you. James' fingers keep pumping, tongue lapping up every last piece of you until you're practically a crumpled mess.

He kisses all the way down your leg as he lowers it, allows you to catch your breath, and then stands. His lips meet yours, wet and sweet, the taste of yourself on him dizzying. "Good night?" He asks, for a second time.

His voice is strained, like he's holding back. You nod, legs shaking. "Yes."

James nods, moves a strand of hair from your forehead with his thumb. "Good."

The door creaks open, pushing you forwards with it. James gives you a once over, "Catch you downstairs."

The door closes and you collapse against it, sinking until you meet the floor. It takes several minutes to collect yourself.

[metallicamunson]

Boyfriend(James Potter x FemReader)

Hi everyone, I finally finished this fic after months of starting it. It’s not my best work but it’s not too shabby considering I haven’t written in a while. Hope you guys enjoy this song inspired fic 🥲🤍

Word Count: 3,099

Warnings: Angst to Fluff, some cursing.

Summary: One where you and James find your way back to each other

——-

If there is one thing you and James are good at, it’s getting under one another’s skin.

It didn’t matter that your relationship ended in your seventh year at Hogwarts. Having the same friend group means seeing each other constantly. Not to mention, the breakup was a mutual decision, deeming that it would be best to be friends while you both figured out what came after school.

Looking back, you can’t help but feel it was a stupid decision. A brash agreement made by two teenagers in love, scared to take the next step in their relationship.

You very much still love James Potter.

And James Potter is still very much in love with you.

Although- neither of you knows it.

Meanwhile, your friends watch from the sidelines, waiting for either of you to make the first move to rekindle your romance.

DATE ONE (James)

It all started when the marauders invited the whole group for brunch. They all sat around the table on the balcony of their home, enjoying fluffy waffles with various fruits spread over the table. You couldn’t help but sneak glances toward James; he looked good. The white T-shirt he wore- accentuated his muscular arms, and his waist in those trousers was a look to die for.

You bit your lip in embarrassment when you caught Remus’ gaze; his eyebrows raised and a knowing smirk on his lips. You shook your head, taking a long sip of your champagne.

“Word on the street is that Prongs got himself a date tonight,” Sirius says, nudging James in the ribs with an elbow.

Now that- caught the attention of everyone, especially yours. Your eyes met with James’ who looked like a deer caught in headlights. He let out an awkward cough, twisting the ring on his middle finger.

“Uh- yeah, it’s a girl I met the other day at a coffee shop.”

It suddenly felt like your intestines were twisting into knots as jealousy consumed your now racing heart.

“That’s great, James,” Marlene smiles; she can’t help but look over at you. “What's her name?”

“Hannah, but it’s nothing serious,” he quickly adds, “it might not even go anywhere.”

“Well, you better bloody make sure she has a good time- she’s fine as f-, ow what the hell!” Sirius glares at Lilly, who just kicked him under the table.

“Okay- enough talk about James’ lov-”

“I’m happy for you; I hope you have a splendid time with what’s her face,” you chirp, lips settling into a tight smile. “Maybe this time around, you’ll get the first date right.”

Now that stung, you always assured James that you loved your first date despite the minor- okay, major hic-ups along the way. Truth be told you- love it; you found him adorable when he attempted to fix everything. He thought you’d never want to see him again, but imagine his surprise when you kissed him at the end of your date.

“Her name is Hanna- Lilly; stop doing that!” Sirius exclaims, kicking her back.

“I know you did not just kick me, Sirius Black!” Lilly says, throwing a grape in his direction.

“Will you two stop acting like children,” Remus sighs, “now let's all take a deep breath-”

“You know what, I will have a great time with Hannah! I might take her to that little Italian restaurant with the good breadsticks!” James says, shooting a terse smile your way.

That’s yours and James’ place. The place you both first said, ‘I love you.’

“Sounds like a lovely idea.” You scoot your chair back, throwing your napkin on your plate. “You know what, I forgot I have an errand to run. Thank you for brunch, boys. Bye, everyone.”

You take your bag from the handle of your chair, exiting through the sliding door.

James groans, leaning his forehead against his fist with his eyes closed.

Later that night

“You know what, I’m happy for him. I’m sure he and Helen will make a great couple,” you murmur, pacing back and forth.

“Hannah.” Marlene corrects before shrinking back when you raise your eyebrow at her.

“(Y/n) Why won’t you admit it; you still love him!” Lilly sighs, sitting up from her spot on your bed.

“Me? Lilly, please, we both agreed our breakup was for the best. I’m fine with it.”

“Your eye twitched when you said that.” Marlene laughed.

“It did not,” you lift your hand to your eye. You lay down between the two girls, staring at the ceiling of your room. “Okay, maybe it hurt a little when he said he was taking her to our spot.”

“Oh, sweetie, I’m sure he wouldn’t do that to you,” Marlene says with a sympathetic smile.

“I don’t even know why I care; we broke up almost a year ago. One of us dating was bound to happen.”

—

It turns out Hannah was someone who liked to move fast. James couldn’t have made a faster excuse to leave when she mentioned what names he’d want for their baby.

You would be lying if you said you didn’t feel ecstatic when Remus told you.

DATE ONE (Y/n)

“I’m sorry, I could have sworn I heard you say (Y/n) has a date with Caleb.” James laughs, walking into the kitchen where Remus and Sirius sit around the island. “You know the number of times he put the moves on her when we were dating; he should give it up.”

“Erm Prongs, I did say exactly that,” Remus chuckles nervously.

James stood still, the fridge wide open; his mind went completely blank for a few seconds. His grip on the handle tightened, grabbing the milk before slamming the fridge door shut.

“Are you okay, mate? I know this is the first date she’s been on since you two broke up.” Sirius slides a bowl across the island towards James.

“I’m fine. (Y/n) doesn’t owe me anything.” He shakes the cereal aggressively into his bowl. “I’m happy for her.”

Remus and Sirius share a look; they know for a fact that he is not okay.

A few days later

You knocked on the door of the marauders, your other hand holding a basket of pastries you made for them. A few seconds later, the door opens.

“Oh, hey.” James smiles, moving to the side to let you in.

You nod your head as a greeting, handing him the basket. “I thought I’d drop these off- Remus has been nagging me to make him my ‘famous brownies.’ I um- also made a few scones in there, or whatever,” you mumble.

You made scones, his favorite. He can’t help but grin; why does his heart feel like it is about to beat out of his chest?

“I smell brownies!” Remus runs down the spiral stairs, snatching the basket from James and rummaging through it. “Why are two just standing there- we have a couch, you know?”

James rolls his eyes, gesturing for you to move into the living room. “How did you smell brownies- your room is at the end of the hall upstairs.”

“You seem to forget about my werewolf capabilities.” Remus points out, moaning when he takes a bite of the brownie. “How’d your date go?”

James visibly tenses, staring at the side of your face. You shift in your seat, picking at your nails. “It went well. He treated me well, paid for dinner, and made me laugh.”

Remus nods in approval, though he can’t help but feel he jumped the bullet, bringing it up with James in the room.

James felt himself spiraling. What he said next wasn’t his finest moment.

“It seems kind of desperate going out with a guy who follows you around like a puppy.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean, James,” your head snaps in his direction, a frown now evident on your face.

“I don’t know; I just think he’s a loser- anyone who goes out with him must not have very high standards.”

Your eyes brim with tears, so this is what he thought of you. “You know what, fuck you, James Potter,” you scoff, “I’ll have you know he is not a loser- he's a gentleman!”

“He’s creepy (Y/n); the man borderline stalks you!” James laughs in disbelief.

“You know what, I don’t have to listen to this!” You exclaim, flinging a pillow in his direction. You turn to Remus, “I’ll call you later tonight- I can’t be around,” you gesture with your hands towards James, “him.”

You stomp your way out of their house, slamming the door shut.

“That was a dick move,” Remus says, taking another brownie from the basket.

“I’m looking after her!” James sighs, hugging the pillow to his chest.

“Are you sure it’s not because you’re in love with her and got jealous,” he looks over at James.

“What! No! Pshh, our breakup was mutual, remember?”

“Uh-hm, sure, keeping living in denial, prongs.” Remus takes the basket from the coffee table, heading towards the stairs.

“She brought those for all of us, you know!” James shouts from his spot on the couch. He rolls his eyes with a small smile when he hears Remus running up the stairs.

—

James was right. But you’d run around naked in negative-degree weather before admitting that- out loud.

DATE TWO (James)

You found out about his second date through Marlene this time around. It was some girl he ran into at the gym. According to Marlene, she was the one to ask him out, which intrigued James.

You were okay with it. Totally completely fine.

“Do you know where they’re going?” You say, trying to sound nonchalant, flipping through the channels of Marlene’s TV.

“Sirius said they were going bowling.”

“Cool.”

You throw the remote beside you, your mind not focusing on anything but James. Ever since you went on your date with Caleb, the bickering between the both of you only intensified. The two of you could not be in the same room with each other without one or the other making a snide remark.

“Are you okay?”

“Mmhm, he’s a single man; he can do what he wants,” you murmur, tugging the blanket under your chin.

—

“So how’s it going between gym girl and James?” you murmur, sectioning Sirius’ hair in half to start braiding two braids.

“I don’t know, he hasn’t talked about it much,” he shrugs.

You frown; this could mean one of two things. They either hit it off and are keeping their relationship a secret. Or it went so bad that James refuses to speak about it.

“Ow! I would still like to have my hair intact after this love.”

“Sorry, I just have a lot on my mind,” you chuckle nervously, scratching his scalp softly.

“He talks about you a lot, you know.”

Sirius glances up at you, a knowing look in his eyes.

“I- we can’t stand each other. We can’t even have a normal conversation before an argument starts.”

“(Y/n), I love you, so when I say this, it’s with all the love in the world- you and James need to get your heads out of your arses and talk about it.”

—

You stand before the boys’ apartment; you raise your knuckles towards the door before pulling back. You’ve been standing here for five minutes- trying to find the courage to speak to your ex-lover. Do you still love him? Of course- you do. Why else would it hurt so much when he goes on these dates? What if he tells you he doesn’t want the same?

You shake your head, taking a deep breath before knocking on the wooden door. You rock on your heels, biting your lip nervously.

The door opens, revealing a woman who is the definition of a Vogue magazine model. She has straight blond hair, she definitely seems like she works out, and the band tee she wears- wait a minute.

Your breath hitches once you recognize it; you’ve worn that shirt one too many times after spending the night with James. You can feel the lump in your throat start to form.

“Hey, are you okay?” The blond asks, worry laced in her tone.

“Oh! Sorry, I got the wrong apartment,” you smile tightly, turning to walk away.

Yeah, James Potter definitely moved on, you thought.

DATE TWO (Y/N)

“He’s a good guy! Come on (Y/n), let me set this up!”

“I don’t know if I’m ready for another date- Lils, the last one was a total disaster,” you murmur.

“To be fair, we did warn you that Caleb wasn’t a good idea- plus it’s been five months,” Lilly hums, poking your cheek.

You bat her hand away, sending a playful glare her way, “Fine.”

“You won’t regret it! I promise Mason is worth it!” Lilly squeals, clapping her hands together.”

—

Lilly was right- he’s perfect.

Mason Moriarty has a great job at the ministry that pays him a hefty number of galleons. His smile is one that would make all the girls swoon. He’s the kind of guy who holds the door and respects women.

He made you laugh and paid attention to what you were saying. Mason Moriarty was respectful and made you feel comfortable.

One date turned into two, and two turned into three.

He was perfect- so what was that nagging feeling in your heart?

—

Word spreads fast in the friend group. So it came as no surprise that James got word about you and Mason.

“Who even is that guy- he seems like a tosser,” James grunts, bringing his beer can to his lips. “I mean, she can do so much better!”

Sirius rolls his eyes, putting his book down. He couldn’t get any reading done with James’ constant outbursts.

“He’s a cool dude, he treats our (Y/n/n) well.” Sirius reaches over the coffee table to get himself a can. “At least pretend to be happy for her.”

“I can be happy for her! I just think he isn’t the one for her! The guy’s last name is Moriarty, (Y/n) Moriarty, sounds stupid!” James groans, throwing his head back on the couch.

“Enlighten me then, James- who should she be with then,” Sirius quirks an eyebrow.

“I don’t-” James sighs in frustration, “(Y/n) deserves someone who will love her unconditionally, someone who will cut the crust of her sandwich because she hates the texture. She needs someone who will hold her hand when she sees a pigeon because; for some odd reason, she finds them terrifying. It needs to be someone who will run to the nearest pharmacy to grab medicine when she’s sick because god knows she won’t go to the doctor’s office.” James rants, pulling at his hair.

“And Mason can’t do that?” Sirius pushes, a smirk forming on his lips, one he tries to hide with his hands.

That was the final straw.

“No Padfoot! Moriarty can never love her the way that I do!” James blurts out, throwing his empty can on the floor.

James’ eyes widen in realization, mouth opening, and closing with no words.

“Bingo! What are you going to do about it, Potter?”

“Nothing, there’s no way she still feels the same.”

“Wrong,” Remus waltzed into the room, sitting next to James, “You two are so in love with each other it’s sickening.”

James shakes his head in confusion, his heart racing at the possibility.

“I mean, for fucks sake, Prongs, are you blind?”

“I’m an idiot,” James groans, running his hands down his face. “Fuck, what if I’m too late.”

“I heard from a little birdy, that she cut it off with Mason.” Remus hums, a smile tugging on his lips.

James practically jumps up from his spot, an unsure look on his face.

“Go get your girl James.”

The Reconciliation

You squint your eyes, slipping on your slippers, the constant knocking on your door waking you from your slumber. You pause at the threshold of your bedroom, taking a vase from your desk. Warily, you look into the peephole of your door, sighing in relief when you see James. You open the door, a million thoughts running through your head.

“James, what- it’s two in the morning; what are you doing here?”

“I’m still in love with you,” James rushes out before he chickens out.

Your eyes widen, lips parting, “What-”

“I know this is coming out of nowhere, but I need you to know how I feel. I know it’s selfish, and Mason is in the picture- or not, I don’t know, Remus said he wasn’t. Anyway- I don’t think you ever left my mind (Y/n) from the day we broke up. I felt this void within me. The dates I went on felt wrong- it felt like somehow I was betraying you,” He chuckles breathly. “And when I found out you were starting to date, I was jealous- god that sounds immature. The point is, I thought our breakup was for the best- but (Y/n) I think I was just scared that I was falling more in love with you. I still love you, and I don’t know if I’m making a fool- out of myself- but I know I had to try and fight for you.”

“James-” you whisper, your lower lip trembling, tears welling in your eyes, “I love you.” You wrap your arms around his neck, careful with the vase in your hand. “I missed you so much, I know we were never really apart, yet you felt so far away.”

“Yeah, I know the feeling,” James laughs, his arms find home around your waist.

“We’re fools,” You giggle, “We should have never broken up, I was only kidding myself by thinking I would ever get over you, Jamie.”

“Yeah well, I’m never letting you go now you're stuck with me, sweetheart.” He grins.

“Wouldn’t want it any other way, Potter,” You hum, placing a gentle kiss on his jaw.

“Not to ruin the moment- but why are you holding a vase?”

You smile sheepishly, “I thought you were some kind of thief.”

“I am- a thief who stole your heart,” he wiggles his eyebrows.

“You are so cheesy,” you laugh, tugging him into your apartment and closing the door behind you. You place the vase on a nearby table before turning to face James again.

“You love it.”

“Yeah, I do- now come over here and kiss me.” You grin, rocking on your heels.

He beams, placing his hands on each side of your face, pressing his lips against yours.

Mission Accomplished

Fin

——-

[julesdaydreams]

@wolfstarmicrofic I Summer Camp AU I word count: 1114

Since the age of 7, Sirius has been sent to Summer Camp every year. His parents called it “educational”, however, he had always known that Walburga and Orion just didn’t want to deal with their first born son four weeks straight - Regulus was allowed to stay home after all.

The Summer Camp he went to had been the same for the last eight years. And he hated every bit of it.

First, there were the people. The adults were exactly the type that Walburga loved. They scolded Sirius whenever he didn’t sit straight enough and made him do chores whenever he acted out.

And the other kids? Boring at best, fucking annoying at worst. They were your typical posh suck-ups, looking down on everyone and thinking they’re the greatest person to exist.

Secondly, the whole place was fucking depressing, to say the least. It’s like a bunch of dementors sucked the life out of it. There was no colour anywhere. Believe him, Sirius has spent the last eight years looking - unsuccessfully.

Lastly, there was nothing - absolutely nothing - interesting to do. The whole thing was scheduled to the T. And between boring history classes, stiff dance lessons and the hundredth playthrough of Beethoven’s Sonata No. 23 in F Minor, Sirius had little time to actually enjoy his summer holidays. And every time he tried to have some fun it just ended with him having to wash the dishes that night - again - as well as another letter to his parents, stating his lack of obedience - as if that was anything new.

So, this year, Sirius walked into his room for the next four weeks with the same expectations as every year, just to come to a sudden stop the second he opened the door.

Because instead of finding his depressing room with the uncomfortable twin sized bed and plain white walls empty and lacking of life as usual, there was a very much alive (and very much cursing) brown-haired boy, messing with the white bedsheet.

“Fucking- shit. Why won’t this bloody thing just- ugh!”

The boy yanked at the sheets, causing one of the corners he had already tucked in to spring free again, leaving the whole thing untucked. Sirius couldn’t help but chuckle at the scene, making the other boy’s head snap up, noticing him for the first time.

“Oh! Shit, you’re already here!”, he blurted out, seemingly not out of his own volition. His eyes were wide and he looked at Sirius with something he couldn’t quite make out before it was wiped away, a blank - one might say professionally polite - expression taking place, which seemed off on the young face, like it wasn't used to such an expression.

“I’m so sorry, Sir. I’ll be done in here shortly, if you don’t mind waiting a moment.”, said a much more composed voice and Sirius hated the sound for some reason.

“No need to call me “sir”. I’m fifteen not fifty.”, Sirius stated, dumping his bag at the foot of the bed before sitting down on the blank mattress. There was a flicker of something akin to surprise on the boy’s features before it was wiped yet again.

But before the boy could respond, Sirius interjected, wanting to see more of that cursing and dishevelled boy from before.

“I’m Sirius by the way. And you are?”, he asked, extending his hand (because yes - contrary to popular believe he had manners. At least when he wanted to have them).

The boy just looked puzzled at this, hesitantly extending his hand as well. It was rougher than Sirius’, adorned with pink and white scars that reach past his wrist and under his button down shirt. The handshake was over faster than it began and Sirius found himself missing the warmth that came with it. However he didn’t have much time to think about why that was because the boy was speaking again.

“Uhm… I’m Remus. Sorry about your bed again, I don’t really have this whole summer job thing figured out, yet.”, he said, looking a bit sheepish. Sirius’ mind was spinning with the new information.

“Right. I’ll better get someone who’s actually able to do their job, so I won’t bother you any longer.” Remus was at the door faster than Sirius could process and his mind went into panic mode. He didn’t want Remus to go. Remus leaving would mean the usual boredom of the first day and the stifling silence of the room. Sirius didn’t want that and Remus was the only way it would refrain from happening.

So - naturally - Sirius did the thing he did best, meaning that he put on his most charming smile as he jumped up form the bed, grabbing Remus’ arm to stop him.

“No! Wait, it’s no problem, we could do it together? It’s much easier to get the sheets on like that, I promise. And I really don’t want you to get in trouble.”

Round eyes blinked down at him, full of confusion and Sirius was about to apologize and say he could just do it on his own because clearly asking Remus to stay had been a very weird thing to do, when Remus smiled crookedly at him, taking a step back from the door.

Sirius released Remus’ arm from where he was still grasping it and soon the sheets were where they were supposed to be, bed made like it usually was, if a bit more wrinkled, but it’s not like Sirius cared.

They were both standing a bit awkwardly in the middle of the room, knowing that they really had no reason to both be here anymore. Remus snapped out of it first, giving a short nod before saying his goodbyes.

“Well. Thanks for helping, you really didn’t have to do that. Uhm- I’ll be going then.”

Sirius gave him a small smile, watching Remus shuffle out of the room. However, before the door could close fully, Sirius couldn’t help but get another word in.

“So, I’ll see you around then?” His voice was hopeful and he didn’t know why he felt so nervous all of a sudden, waiting for Remus to say something.

“Yeah. See you around.” With that the door closed and silence fell over the room. And Sirius couldn’t help but think that it felt different than all the last years, not as stifling. Somehow he knew, that with Remus here this summer, it wouldn’t be quite as horrible than it normally was.

[evesaintyves]

989 words, for @remadoramicrofics prompt "haunted."

Read it below or on AO3 🎸

Tonks's old bedroom floor is a mess of rumpled t-shirts and her rattiest underpants. Five days since Remus took off his ring, knotted the strings on his traveling case, and told her he'd made a terrible error. All she's done is sleep. She dozed off on the macrame throw pillow and it left a crisscross red rash on her cheek, went downstairs before she noticed, and her Dad gasped, "Dora?" 

She just fled back upstairs without breakfast.

It's not even her throw pillow. Mum has snuck them in her old room sometime since she's been gone. Other things, too, an elegant white bowl to hold all the knuts and plastic hair clips and ticket stubs that were scattered across her chest of drawers. Mum's things, minimal and clean, make Tonks's stuff, the fairy lights and the thrashing band posters, seem like they're trying too hard. It's just like her last year at school, the stress-cracking of all the faultlines between who she is and who she is supposed to be. She was constantly reinventing herself back then—a new chin, a chelsea cut, a ring in her eyebrow. But she's not the only one in charge of her body anymore. It's making decisions without her.

And it's so shit to want Remus here to settle behind her on her squeaky old bed, tuck his bony knees into the parenthesis of her legs, stroke his skinny fingers up her arm and say, like he does, that he's sorry—but at the same time to want to scream at him so hard he vapourizes into a fine red mist.

In the afternoon, her mother does her two-tap no-time-to-pull-your-knickers-up knock and comes in with cups of tea.

"Your father tells me you've been looking ill."

"I'm not."

Andromeda sits on the side of the bed.

"You were a terrible pregnancy," she says. "I'd have sworn you were trying to fight me from the inside."

Tonks pulls her knees to her chest. "This one's a scrapper. I can tell already."

Andromeda smiles into her cup.

Tender moments have a way of making Tonks show her belly. Her mother doesn't say much, just sits and keeps her company, and before long Tonks is compelled to overshare. That she isn't even sure Remus ever really loved her, but maybe loved an idea of her that she led him on into believing while they were still just awkwardly clicking teeth in stolen moments at headquarters; an idea worn smooth and shiny by those months they were apart.

Almost as soon as she married him she was up the duff and puking, breaking out in spots faster than she could morph them away. Still having dreams that Sirius was just tilting on his heels—suspended in the moment he might have been saved—waking up choking. Remus seemed perturbed that she could spend hours staring at the telly, not watching, just trying to shush the noise in her head. It seems so stupid now, but she'd really thought that he, of all people, would understand.

"My mother used to tell me," Andromeda says, "that I'd better stop all my moping about, that men don't care for girls who brood. And that I'd never get married and out of her hair, acting that way."

"What did you say?"

"I didn't say anything. I made a plan and then I climbed out my window in the middle of the night. Your father picked me up in his old car and took me to his parents' flat—you know the story. Let me tell you, Nymphadora—" She pins Tonks with a look. "—how much brooding I did in his old bedroom. I was a wreck. The room smelt of some horrible potion he used on his model railway. The carpet crunched underfoot. And I was worried about what was going to happen to—to some of the people I left. I was crying every night. Waiting until your grandparents left for work in the morning to creep into the kitchen like a ghoul. I had..." She pulls her posture up straight. "Difficulty adjusting, at first."

Tonks's throat is getting tight, and tears are needling the rims of her eyes. It's not just that she's grabbed for that kind of love story and missed; it's also that her mother never talks to her like this—spilling the way Tonks sometimes does, talking fast, saying things she probably shouldn't. It makes the world feel all the more unfixably cracked.

"Dad—Was Dad...?" Tonks can't even finish, her voice is cracking and squeaking. She curls forward and hides her face in her mother's sleeve.

"He'd lie with me—and touch my hair. He used to tell me if I didn't eat I'd disappear and it was going to be very difficult to explain to the officiant why he had an invisible bride."

She says it gently, sadly, as if she knows what it'll do to Tonks, and she's right. It's full waterworks now, the type Tonks has always sworn she wasn't going to do over a bloke. It's coming out her eyes and nose, it's thick and salty in her mouth, it's getting all over her mum's silk blouse. She's going to hate that. Tonks flops back against her pillows, sniffling, wiping her face with her palms, automatically morphing the puffiness out of her eyelids.

Her mother turns to inspect the shiny web of snot Tonks has left on her sleeve. Her face gets that pinched, long-suffering look for just an instant. Then she takes Tonks's empty cup of tea and stacks it in her own, and tucks Tonks's feral bedhead back behind each ear with her cool fingers.

"Supper's at seven," she says. "Your father's trying out a lasagna."

She shuts the door behind her when she goes, and it's just Tonks and the frenzy of the rock bands on her walls: forever joyfully flailing, forever faithful to their own silent beat.

image: egon schiele, woman lying on her back

[arawho]

Imagine: Sirius is a stressed businessman in his twenties. One day, he goes to Madam Lupin because Marlene keeps telling him to cleanse his inner soul or something. So he goes there, but Hope’s not home, just his son, Remus. He is dressed in a jeans salopette, with flowers among his curly hair, and dried paint stains on his tie-dye t-shirt and Sirius is already falling for him. Remus says he can’t do cleansing with crystal like his mom does, but he can read tarot cards. Now, Sirius is a sceptic at heart, but he already promised Marlene that he would do this hippy thing, so he must be a good friend and keep his promise, right?

Remus makes him sit at this round table, and he spreads the cards with a movement of his hand, but the wooden table is covered by a crocheted white cloth hand-maiden by Hope, and the bumps on the patterns make the cards go all over the place so the trick is ruined and Remus is already looking miserable.

Then he starts reading the card, but Remus “predicts” the most obvious things, like how his work’s life is messy (Sirius has very evident eyebags) and how he is very popular (apart from his eyebags, Sirius is also very evidently attractive). At a certain point, the obvious predictions end, and Remus starts to predict the most absurd things. But every time he says something, he looks up uncertain, and Sirius is too lost in his eyes to tell him he’s wrong. Then he gets to his love life, and it seems that it’s Remus the one having the cards read; he starts asking Sirius questions about if he’s single, what’s his type and if he’s seeing someone. The interrogation gets interrupted by Hope coming home. She lights an incense to cleanse the room and drags Remus into the kitchen. 

Despite the closed door, Sirius is still able to hear some arguing (mostly by Hope, even though everything is conveyed in an unnatural soft tone. Sirius isn’t used to this), then some crying (mostly from Remus), and then they both come back into the room with their eyes red holding hands and Sirius now is definitely confused. In the end, Hope cleanses his very stressed soul, and before he goes Sirius gives Remus his number. A week later they start dating. After a month they are in a relationship, and maybe the cleansing per se hasn’t worked, but Sirius can tell that his life is already better.

[cuddlebugsirius]

Jess’ Top 22 of 2022

I decided to do a fic rec list of my 22 top fics that I read in 2022, from lots of different ships and fandoms. We’re here to celebrate the effort that fellow writers put into creating magic for us all, fanfiction is such a massive part of my life and I think it deserves to have a spotlight shone on it’s greatness. 

[I limited myself to 1 fic/series per author, which was more of a challenge than I thought it would be 😂]

So in no particular order and without further ado...

Bring Him to His Knees - 245k+, Dramione, E Rated

Draco is on the case of a murderer, but to investigate, he needs a fake relationship - and a kink club play partner. When Hermione volunteers to take the role, both do their best to maintain the lie without letting each other know the truth: neither of them are acting.

Solntse - 60k+, Wolfstar, E Rated

Sirius, a young Russian billionaire hires Remus, who is working part time as a call boy to make ends meet. Things happen, feelings occur.

Did You Miss Me - 640k+, Wolfstar & Jily, E Rated

Though the new boy at Hogwarts University, James Potter, appears to be an adorable himbo with deep pockets, Remus Lupin and his friends instead find a horrifically dark past on Google. Did he really attack that boy and leave him for dead? Why won't he talk about his mysterious childhood best friend, "Pups"? Would it kill him to stop messing with his hair?

At least Remus got his phone back after losing it, but now he can't stop texting the mysterious number of the man who had sent it back. Padfoot is funny and charming, and Remus is NOT going to fall in love with him.

The PB to my J [AKA the one that converted Jess into a Wolfstar writer] - 270k+, Wolfstar, E Rated 

A Modern AU Marauders texting with prose fic set at University.

Mainly Wolfstar - Will they? Won’t they? (They obviously will...) And a little bit of Jily too.

A Second Look - 120k+, Dramione, M Rated

Her best friend's life was a mess and she would have done anything to make things better for him and his sons. So, when she found her former enemy in a similar situation her heart went out to him as well... and the beautiful blond baby in his arms didn't hurt his case. It was certainly enough for her to give him a second look.

oh, I’m gonna let the future in - 40k+, Scorpius Malfoy/Albus Potter, T Rated

Al doesn’t know what he’s doing. Not just with the new apartment, but with his life in general, and it doesn't help that his family quietly looks down on him. It feels as if they’re always waiting for him to do something spectacular, but without actually expecting it of him. They’ve given up on expecting anything of him.

Al only speaks English, and he sings in the shower, badly. He likes tea, and he cleans when he’s stressed. He sees a therapist. He has a total of two friends, and one of them is his cousin. He isn’t smart; he’s simple.

He wishes that could be enough.

Brooklyn Heights Books - 180k+, Stucky, E Rated

A man wearing a light denim jacket over a dark blue shirt came into the shop, a box tucked under his right arm. Despite it being late afternoon, he was wearing sunglasses with bright blue lenses, and his long, dark hair was pulled back in a messy little bun. A few strands had escaped, framing his strong, unshaven jawline. The man looked into the café, smiled widely, and waved in Clint’s direction as he kept walking into the bookstore, and Steve’s mouth went completely dry.

Beautiful, was the only word to describe that smile; straight, white teeth framed by full, lush, red lips, bracketed by laugh lines and an adorable dimple in his right cheek, a charming little chin cleft just visible under the light stubble—Steve was struck literally speechless. And that was before he got a glimpse of the man’s backside. Slim hips and a round, firm-looking ass led to long, lean legs that were encased in snug, dark blue jeans.

“Guh,” Steve said, watching the dark-haired man continue on to the back of the store.

‘tis the damn season - 70k+, Wolfstar, T Rated

“Where are you going?”

Remus turns. Sirius looks delightful; wine-flush and December drizzle painting his pale, pretty face the deepest carmine red. His spindly hands are twiddling at his front, as if he doesn’t know quite what to do with them. He sniffs, and exhales corporeal ice that sends a shiver running down Remus’ spine. He’s not sure if it’s from the cold or the alcohol or… something else.

Clean - 115k+, Dramione, M Rated

Malfoy's handsome face was contoured into a condescending smirk. "No faith in that giant brain of yours, Granger?" She looked up at him defiantly. "Maybe I don't have faith in you!" she said, raising her voice. Malfoy only looked at her. "You'll find I'm very surprising." 

Second Generation - 45k+, Wolfstar, E Rated

Remus Lupin and Sirius Black spent their late teens in a happy haze of sex, troublemaking, and playing in their band, but break up in college. But when their respective children get in trouble together more than 20 years later, Remus and Sirius find themselves at odds with their very different parenting styles and dealing with a spark that was never quite extinguished.

Dreamers - 45k+, Wolfstar, M Rated

In which Sirius did twelve years and meets Remus on a creative writing workshop.

The Searching Ceremonies - 580k+, Sterek, M Rated

Derek is being pressured by his family to pick a mate, and somehow stumbles into a choice that they didn't expect and aren't sure they approve of....

Quid Pro Quo - 105k+, Darklina, E Rated

The Slow Burn Breeding Kink Political AU

Cannibals - 20k+, Darklina, E Rated

It was very brief, the affair Alina Starkov had with her father.

Or: The Father-Daughter Incest AU

no shelter but mine - 65k+, Darklina, E Rated

“If you’re so worried about your daughter then why are you wasting your time yelling at me instead of caring for her?”

He stills. His fists clench, just once, and she can see the muscles in his jaw working, like it is taking him every ounce of will not to unhinge it, lean across the counter, and rip out her throat with his teeth.

Then he turns, without a word, and storms out the door, the tails of his black coat flying behind him like a cloak. Aleksander is in need of a nanny for his six-month-old daughter. As it so happens, Alina is the only person she likes.

Action - 20k+, Jaime Lannister/Brienne of Tarth, E Rated

Jaime’s a famous action hero. Brienne is the stunt coordinator on his latest movie. She’s hated him since the moment they met, and the feeling is mutual. But there are ways to work out their aggression.

Lost & Found - 95k+, Jon Snow/Sansa Stark, E Rated

When she realizes the husband she knew had departed, and she now had cold & hard mobster in his place, Sansa fakes her death and starts a new life in Wales.

And then Jon finds her.

It gets so hard to breathe (when you’re looking at me) - 57k+, Wolfstar, E Rated

When Sirius turns up at Remus' flat after the events at the Triwizard Tournament, he doesn't expect to find himself sharing a bed with Remus. Or getting so intimately involved in his life. Or to find out that they're mates and Remus wants nothing more than to push him up against the wall and make him forget his own name.

Or to feel so very complete.

But Sirius isn't complaining. Not one bit.

The Player’s Secret - 50k+, Wolfstar, M Rated

“So what’s he like? Full of it? Arrogant?”

“Yes,” he says, because he thinks that is a fair assessment. Sirius Black is full of it. He is arrogant. He’s also entitled and needy and smug. He’s talented, reckless, moody, selfish, childish, charming and sweet, and a million different other things Remus is trying to wrap his head around.

Sirius Black is hard work.

Remus Lupin is a successful documentary filmmaker who is assigned to make a fly-on-the-wall documentary featuring Sirius Black - one of the world's most brilliant footballers - as he competes in the European Championship.

All does not go smoothly.

The Same Way I Like My Coffee - 35k+, Jon Snow/Sansa Stark, M Rated

Sansa Stark always liked her coffee hot and sweet. She finally found a guy that makes the sentence "I like my men the same way I like my coffee" real to her.

Jon snow has no right to be that hot.

Or: Sansa opens the coffee shop of her dreams, makes great friends and meets an unbelievably hot Jon Snow.

don’t pout, darling - 70k+, Dramione, E Rated

"when's the last time you let someone take care of you?"

"no one's ever wanted to," her whisper is delicate, sharp like porcelain glass, the edges raw and tender. she is sugar-soft, a little thing tucked into his chest, ears pressed against the heart that beats for her.

"i'll take care of you, i'm always going to take care of you," he cooed. “you're my sweet girl, my baby.”

or: a modern au ddlg fic

when we kiss: mmmm, fire - 39k+, Jon Snow/Sansa Stark, E Rated

Sansa might be seeing someone casually, but thanks to Arya, Robb, and Theon, it’s Jon who’s got the inside track on how to get Sansa to take him seriously.

aka: the one where jon finds out that sansa has a daddy kink, and he uses it to seduce her away from the dating scene and into his arms, heeeey-oh!

[toddandersonslosttwin]

Marry Christmas everyone

I am a born Orthodox Christian but spending Christmas with a group of catholics so I am being festive today.

Growing up I was always told "please don't ruin Christmas for us"

I grew up with neglecting parents, so I almost never got a gift and I barely celebrated it, since my parents would make the day just for themselves and when ever I would say something or get upset I would be told the same thing "don't ruin Christmas for us"

This year after my best friend learned I didn't celebrate Christmas made sure he made me a Christmas movie worth of Christmas. It was magical I never experienced such holiday joy for past few days and he really did his best and I appreciate it.

So about the gifts... Well I got spoiled but I spoiled back.

Wilbur got me every single book Albert Camus wrote , Frank Sinatra vinyl and my probably fav a hand written letter.

I got him Remus Lupin and Sirius Black funko pops (he adores them) and vinyl with our favourite songs on it.

Mark he got me some David Bowie related stuff (t-shirts, posters, CDs) he wrote on top of it "delivery from the mars"

I got him his favourite book translated in 5 different languages since nothing makes a language major and polyglot happier then reading same book and experiencing it in different languages and i got him a water bottle since that little ass keeps stealing mine water bottle.

Matevz the Christmas man and man who made myself experience the Christmas spirit. He blew my mind with the gift... He got me kitten (he actually got two but gave one to Mark too) he said he saw the Two in the shelter and seeing their names among many , Henry and Camilla. I got Henry and he is adorable black and white cat that has been very calm, while Camilla is a beautiful white cat that is very energetic and keeps climbing on stuff.

I got him couple of t-shirts which the the most random chaotic text saying dumb stuff (he loves them) and as a inner joke of ours I got him a flag of Yugoslavia since he is Slovenia and I am Serbian and we have this joke about the history of Yugoslavia.

But the most funniest part was my adoptive dad coming to join us and he too got me a cat I called Garfield (he is orange I had to name him that)

So hey now I have to cats.

I couldn't be more grateful for what I got... I never got as much as today in my life... I am so emotional this whole day... I can't express how grateful I am.

Finally feeling love

[luveline]

idk if you've done anything like this but maybe a rockstar!james where he introduces his relationship to the world/his fans ?

this was SO FUN tysm for your request! ♥ fem!reader | 1.1k words

James had asked specifically before he did what he did if it was okay. You love him and think it's sweet that he wants to, so you tell him to make sure he uses a good picture. 

Some huge magazine had asked him to do a video for their website. You know vaguely when it gets uploaded because suddenly friends and even acquaintances are texting you repetitively. It's not long after that when The Marauders superfans start requesting to follow your twitter account. You'd set it to private beforehand, though there was nothing of interest there anyways, only retweets and Spotify links. You're glad you did when the notifications start and don't stop. 

You turn off your phone and open up your laptop, navigating to the magazine's website, where the front page boasts your pretty boyfriend's face right at the top. You click the video link and wait for it to load, heartbeat as quick as a mouse's.

The introduction is quick. James sits behind a white table wearing a black, nondescript short-sleeved t-shirt. His fancy watch catches the light as he leans forward. "Hey, I'm James Potter from the rock band The Marauders, and today I'll be showing you guys what's in my bag." 

He picks up a much cleaner version of his rucksack, new for the shoot. His actual rucksack sits at the bottom of your bed. You move your socked feet out of the way so you can compare it to the fraud on screen. It'll be fun to poke fun at him tonight over his lies. 

There's not a lot of guidance to the video. He takes things out one at a time and gives some story behind them. There's a battered pair of drumsticks and a cleaner pair swiftly follows. James goes through them quickly, so a spare is always a good idea. The drumsticks are followed by a piece of drum gum in a plastic case, and a wrist brace for his dicky left arm. 

He pulls out his chapstick with a subtle smirk. 

"And my book," he says, pulling out a messed up paperback. You roll your eyes when you see it because it's not his book at all, it's yours, and he's wrecked it completely. 

A bookmark sticks out about halfway through. "I got this recommended to me by a very pretty girl. Beautiful women seem to always have the best taste in books. I don't have to tell you guys," he says with a wink. He puts the book with everything else he's unveiled so far. "And it's a damn good book." 

You flush warm with pleasure.  

He pulls out some amazingly expensive headphones, an adapter for his electric drum kit, a different pair of noise cancelling headphones, his custom earplugs, his phone charger – again, new for the shoot – and a familiar notebook. 

"This is for everything." He pulls it open to a random page and broadcasts what's clearly not his own handwriting. "I hate transcribing. Remus has done it for me here," he confides. "You have to love him." 

You can imagine the twitter uproar as fans sing the band's bassist's praises. You do have to love Remus, he's an angel, and you'll have to have a word with James about taking advantage of his friend's kindness. 

He turns it to another page. There's a sketch there of a tree you don't really recognise. James draws a lot, more than you could ever keep track of. He's even painted you a landscape or two in heavy gauche before, gifts with awfully sweet dedications on the back. 

He's very good. "For sketching and things. This was a sycamore outside of the Point House arena. It had those helicopter seeds falling from it. You remember when you'd pick those up as a kid and throw them back up into the air?"

The camera person says something and James nods passionately. "Right, we'd have races too! Simpler times." 

It cuts to James pulling out his wallet and his phone. They ask to see his phone wallpaper and he obliges. It's a photo of him and Sirius as kids. They could only be thirteen or fourteen in the photograph, but already Sirius holds his wicked charm like a knife, a sharp smile and a sharper gaze, though his arm around James shoulder is languidly placed. 

"Yep, he's always been like that." 

And finally, his wallet. It's nothing fancy. You can't afford anything as quality as he could himself but he hasn't tried to replace it since you bought it. He peels it open and makes a joke about nobody stealing his identity. 

He smiles wide. "Here's the most important thing in my bag. No, not my card." 

He pulls a piece of white paper from the fold between deft fingers and then turns it to reveal you, a photo of you.

You'll admit you look pretty. There's nothing fanciful to it, just you giving him a soft smile with your hair done up, your head tilting ever so slightly toward your lifted shoulder. 

"This is my girl." He pulls your photo toward him and looks down over the top, no bravado, no charming comment. He smiles at you. "Doesn't she look nice here?" 

The camera person says something again. James looks up, waiting for them to finish before he grins. 

"Yeah, this is my girlfriend. Y/N." 

There's subtitles for the camera person's next question. "This is the first time you've talked about having a partner publicly. Why now?" 

The truth is just the unfortunate consequence of fame. Smear campaigns, hatemail, paparazzi, invasions of privacy. But you can't hide forever. And it feels nice – feels incredible, like your cheeks might bruise from the ache of your smile – to be shown off. 

"'Cos I wanna take her on vacation for our six months, and I want the first photo people see of her to be this one, rather than her drooling on my arm in the airport." 

You laugh. 

"Six months, you've been together?" the camera person asks. 

"And counting. Best six months of my life." 

The interview moves on. There's a few layover shots of the bag's contents. You can't help but feel embarrassed at your face on a clear display next to his wallet, though a binging notification catches your attention before you can pick it apart. 

You click on the notification, an email. It opens, James' voice in the background talking about the new album. 

It's unsurprisingly from loverboy himself. 

Answer your phone!!!!! sent from my iPhone.

You email him back. I've had to turn it off. 

Oh fuck. Are you okay?

You pull the email tab to the side and watch James smile and say goodbye to everyone watching. 

Yeah, I'm perfect. Facetime me?

On you like a rash. 

[greyeyedmonster-18]

Soccer dad (or Quidditch dad) Sirius taking Harry to practice. Or to a game. And Remus sitting in the stands drinking wine out of a thermos and gossiping with all the mums. Or would Sirius be the gossiper? Anyway, here is a prompt for you to run with :)

oh hello, thank you for this, you perfect human. <3

--

"So, her mother told her cousin, who told her brother who lives out in Wales, who had already heard the story from somebody else's husband, who was there when Clara got fired. No one knows why or how, but I don't exactly think it was on good terms if you know what I mean...."

Sirius had to conceal a smirk behind his hands as he listened to his husband talking with the other Mums there for pee-wee football game day. He knew damn well Remus didn't know a single person named Clara, and hadn't heard a damn thing through a consulted grapevine.

"Oh, I just knew she was up to something. She has one of those faces, you know?"

"And that haircut--"

"Who's going to tell her those bangs were last season?" Remus commented again, causing Sirius to look over in his direction. Sun shining down on the top of his brown curls, innocently sipping out of a thermos that Sirius knew was filled with white wine. Remus gave him a small, cheeky smile out of the corner of his mouth, and Sirius rolled his eyes. Remus, in his denim shorts that had a patch on the arse and a stain on the left pocket and the oversized t-shirt and flannel combination, also knew nothing about hairstyle seasons. The other Mum's hadn't caught on, agreeing with him with gusto while the game continued.

It was the perfect activity. Harry, who hit five and suddenly never wanted to sit still again, had taken to football. A sport that allowed him space to run across a field for hours on end. Remus had done the research, figuring out the logistics of muggle-leagues through Harry's school (because Sirius was still confused at best and positively dreadful at worst at navigating muggle spaces) and signing him up. Every Saturday, without fail, the three of them would find themselves on a field, watching Harry run, glasses strapped to his head, laughter heard from the sidelines. Remus would have his thermos, quickly making friends with the other parents through conversation and lies. While Sirius--

"GOAL!" he shouted. His attention turned back to the field just in time to see Harry kick the ball into the net, skating past the other kid who ended up face down on the grass. The whistle blew, Sirius bending low to the ground as Harry ran in his direction, not stopping until he collided with Sirius.

"Did you see, did you see? I kicked hard!" Harry told him excitedly, making a sound effect as he reenacted how hard he kicked the ball.

"You kicked it so hard and so good, babe," Sirius grinned, reaching forward to tickle Harry on the side, his godson laughing and grabbing Sirius's hand to hold.

"I'm a winner! I win!"

"Always, even when you don't kick. Yeah? You could just sit there, if you wanted and you would still be a winner to me."

"Yeah, but kicking helps."

Sirius laughed, "It sure does. How about some water before you go back out there?" Sirius looked over at Remus, who was responsible for guarding the bag with snacks and drinks in it with his life, his husband quickly pulling out a blue water bottle with stickers on it to put in his hand.

"You're doing great, Harry," Remus told him with a smile that Harry met ten-fold before drinking enthusiastically out of his water bottle, half of it spilling down his chin. Sirius chuckled again, wiping the water off Harry's face with his thumb.

"And we get ice cream?"

"Ice cream dinner," Sirius told him seriously, and Harry's eyes lit up.

"Yes!" Harry pumped his fist in the air and gave his water back to Sirius unceremoniously, eager to get back to the field, "Sirius! Watch me! Watch!"

"I'm watching, kid," Sirius stood up, making good on his promise to watch as Harry ran out to the field to join the rest of his tiny teammates, giving them high fives as he did so. Remus's hand snuck around his body from where he was sitting next to him in a camping chair, hand resting low on Sirius's hip, patting it lightly.

"Tiny James, hm?"

"Yeah," Sirius nodded.

"His laugh is yours, I think."

"You're drunk." Sirius whispered, looking towards Remus.

"I am having a great time, there's a difference."

"Go back to telling your lies," Sirius teased, tilting Remus's face upward to kiss him quickly.

"That he has your laugh or that Clara got fired?"

"Clara."

[sliebman10]

Free Space: Production

(This takes place in the Scripted and Revised AU. They just finished shooting the movie, and Remus is running interference so Sirius can rest. This is possibly part of a one shot)

"Hello?" Remus heard James' voice call. He got up from the desk in Sirius's office where he was working on his new screenplay.

"James?"

"Hey Remus. You guys ok? Sirius didn't answer any of my texts."

"James." Remus said, amused. "You could have texted me."

James blushed, rubbing the back of his neck in an embarrassed gesture. "You're right. Sorry."

"Don't be. You're a good friend." Remus said, quietly. "Want some coffee?"

Sirius found both of them at the kitchen table about an hour later with mugs of coffee, chatting comfortably. "Did I miss a session, JJ?" he asked, slightly confused.

"No." James said, "You didn't answer my texts, so I came to check on you guys. But Remus has things under control."

Sirius nodded, standing behind Remus, with his hand on his shoulder. "Have you seen my phone?"

Remus looked up at him, taking in his tangled hair, white t-shirt and red joggers. "Yup." Remus said, patting his pocket.

"Can I have it?"

"Nope." Remus replied, sipping his coffee.

"Remus, really?"

"I wanted you to be able to rest." Remus said, quietly. "You don't start re-shooting and stuff till next week."

"But-"

"Listen to your boyfriend." James said, standing and ruffling Sirius's hair. "Production won't be behind if you take a day or two off. I have a session I have to get to. Remus, let me know if you need me." James said, as he put his coffee mug in the sink.

@wolfstarmicrofic

[steelycunt]

19!!!!! PLEASE

HELLO BAB!! OF COURSE!! ANYTHING FOR YOU!!

The very first time and they’re seventeen in his fourth childhood bedroom—duck-egg wallpaper, ratty sheets, Harry Nilsson record turned down to a faint murmur and all but forgotten. There are the scratches he made in the doorframe, there’s the bed with the peeling paintwork, there’s the hands of the most beautiful boy he’s ever seen, twisting into his t-shirt: “can I...take this off?”

A floorboard creaking. “My dad’s downstairs,” Remus says, which isn’t an answer at all. He lays a hesitant touch of his palm to Sirius’ hip, the sharp poke of bone and a glimpse of bare skin above the waistband of his briefs.

He wants to say, we’ve never asked that question before. He wants to say, I’m not sure why you would want to do a thing like that. Sirius’ knuckles digging in to the soft stretch of his stomach, just barely. Remus imagines them leaving indentations there, as though his flesh is clay.

“But your door’s locked, no? Is he likely to knock?” Sirius looks down at him; fine dark hair falling against Remus’ skin, making him shiver. He has kissed him and kissed him again and now his mouth is all damp and red and ruined. Old-fashioned floral curtains. Nilsson’s cover of She’s Leaving Home drifting in, stepping outside, she is free.

“Or, I mean—” Sirius falters, “sorry, we don’t have to. Obviously. I thought—thought I’d ask, I know we haven’t done anything like that—”

“It’s alright.” Which it should be, really—it’s nothing Sirius hasn’t seen before. Remus and his body like a hit-and-run crime scene, his body that betrays him and complains about him and never seems to patch itself together quite right, his body that can’t be bothered with itself. It’s only ever been something to be dealt with, pacified, winced at, that scar won’t heal if you keep picking at it, those bandages ought to be changed.

A stack of books on the floor by his bed—Shelley, Burroughs. A hairline crack in the plaster of his ceiling. Remus has never thought of his body as something to be loved, to be wanted, and yet here’s Sirius, off-his-fucking-trolley Sirius, asking to make an altar of it anyway.

“You can take it off,” he tells him. “Go for it.”

“Yeah?” Sirius rakes his hair back, grins, split-skin and a small chip in one of his front teeth from playfighting with James when they were twelve: Remus adores it. “Alright, then. I love you. You know I love you?”

“Yeah.” And he does know it; knows it as Sirius’ lips are on his, and as he sits up against the headboard to let him tug his shirt up past his head. They’re laughing into each other’s mouths when his arms get stuck, noses smashing into each other. And all of it really just means I love you, over and over again.

Sirius tosses their shirts down somewhere. He turns back, and Remus’ breath rattles about in his throat like a blue-bottle for a moment—he watches for something, some twitch or twist of Sirius’ face that says disgust, that says horror. Thinks of all the white scar tissue scraped across his chest, or the awkward jut of his elbows, his ribs. Teeth marks torn into his side.

“You’re so lovely,” says Sirius, anyway. “Is this still okay? Can I touch you?”

(And, after this: Sirius will kiss bruise after gnawing bruise into Remus’ neck and down, down past his collarbones. Once it’s over, they’ll get dressed again, and Remus will stand in front of the bathroom mirror and try to hide every last one with a glamour, because his dad is downstairs. He’ll ask Sirius, did I miss any, are they all gone, you definitely can’t see them?

Sirius, sitting on the edge of the bathtub, wearing that daft, lazy little smile that makes Remus’ lungs roll around inside him like marbles. You missed the one beneath your ear, Moony, just there.)

Remus nods, draws his arms over Sirius’ bare shoulders. “Yeah,” he says. “Anywhere you like.”

[maraudersftw]

Nervous, blue, chocolate

Thank you so much for this prompt, because it gave me the perfect idea for my last entry to Shirtless JP May 😭😭

Two drabbles in a day? Feeling quite proud. Also, this is an AU drabble after the longest time! 💙

Heat of You

“Lily! You made it!”

A smile spills over her face, large and bright, as she steps forward to offer Remus a hug. Overhead, the June sun blazes mercilessly down on her neck, sweat sprinkling generously over nape and brows and upper lip.

“Hey!” she greets, wiping away some moisture from her face, sensitive skin already reddening, no doubt a prelude to all the freckles she’ll be welcoming soon. “‘Course I did. Only an idiot would refuse a pool party in this weather.”

“Face it: you were bullied into coming.”

“Yeah alright, who am I kidding?” She rolls her eyes, stepping inside as Remus holds the door open, always a gentleman. The house, as grand from the inside as it had seemed from its exterior, sends a mixed bout of nerves and envy fluttering in her belly. “Is everyone already here?”

“Oh yeah, the pool’s in the backyard,” Remus says around a bar of half-melted chocolate. “Why don’t you go join them? I’ll fetch some cold beer from the kitchen.”

“Um, where is…?”

“Oh, just go on straight and take a left,” he replies, voice already fading as he disappears off to where she can only assume is the kitchen. “You can’t miss Sirius blaring his playlist.”

With a nod to the empty air, she meanders along the dictated path, eyes frequently catching onto photographs of a bespectacled little boy with glasses too big for his face and eyes too mischievous for his age, and proceeds to watch him get older as she progresses. The soft boyishness of his features eventually disappears, replaced by sharp lines, a bright smile, glasses that fit better. The hazel eyes though—they remain the same; equally as playful at seventeen as they were at five. In some of these frames, he’s accompanied by his parents, who seem a good deal older than her own parents, but adoration for their son shines so loud and clear in their expressions, even in the stillness, that they’re instantly made younger by it.

“Evans!” cries a familiar voice, and she squawks outrageously in surprise, jumping a foot in the air. Hand to chest, she whips around to find Sirius Black standing at the end of the hall, the door to the backyard open behind him. He smirks, thoroughly entertained, and nods towards the photographs. “Why stare at the frozen copies when you can enjoy looking at the real thing?”

“It’s nothing of that sort,” she hisses, glad that the burning of her cheeks can be attributed to the cruelly hot sun, and walks over to him. Sirius easily turns around, leading her out to the party. “I was just curious. Had to check whether James always had such a big head or whether it was acquired with age.”

“You say that as if you haven’t known me since eleven.”

The unbelievably loud thud of her heart is accompanied by a traitorous grin that pulls on her lips at the sound of that voice. She bites her cheek, manages to look politely pleased instead of madly thrilled. “Well, therein lies my problem, Potter. Your head has always looked big to me.”

“Is that right?” he hums, and it’s all the warning she receives before he’s right in front of her, body clad in nothing but summer-blue swimming trunks, skin glistening with sweat over a delicious tan. He holds a can of beer in one hand, the other rising to his head, feeling around stupidly as he looks straight at Sirius. “What d’you think, Padfoot? Is my head too big?”

“No, you’re perfect.” Sirius chuckles.

“See, Evans? I don’t—” he suddenly stops, and she watches the muscles of his chest expand with the breath he pulls in. “Excuse me, my eyes are up here, you pervert.”

Despite the warmth that clings to her neck and ears, she laughs, shaking her head as her eyes land on him. “I’m terribly sorry. Maybe you shouldn’t shove your naked chest in my face next time, yeah?”

“Why?” James leans a little closer. “Is it too tempting for you?”

The thin cotton t-shirt sticking to her lower back registers glaringly on her senses all of a sudden, the music around them dulling to a mindless beat, everything sweltering, everything James and his eyes and the brief flash of his white teeth.

“Jesus Christ,” mumbles Sirius, and though they hear the words, neither of them look away. “I swear it’s like watching you have sex openly. I’m going to find some appropriate company.”

She bites her lip, enjoys how it draws James’s eyes to the movement. “You’re really red,” he says, tapping twice at her neck, leaving his finger there. It’s quite evident when her pulse jumps against the spot, eager in its attempt to beat right in his palm. “Alright, Evans?”

“Alright,” she says, voice so breathy that the conviction doesn’t carry.

He’s close enough now that she’s able to reach out a hand and brace it against the solidness of his abdominals. Tension flutters against her skin as he freezes for a second, nerves a tight coil in her stomach. But then he smirks; smirks so lazily, so lecherously, that she feels devoured by that look, by him, entirely.

“I—”

“Lily, I got your beer!”

She instantly steps away at Remus’s voice, heart pounding, blood roaring, even as James lets out a tortured groan at the distance. Sensing what he’s just interrupted, Remus hands her the beer, wince marring his features.

“Oops,” he says, turns to James. “Sorry, mate. I’ll leave you to it.”

She doesn’t even manage to open the drink before he’s pulling it out of her hands, setting it aside on a circular table, and skimming fingers down her elbow. “Come on. Swim with me.”

“I wanted that drink, you know,” she cocks a brow. “You’re not being a very nice host.”

Something in James’s eyes blazes, and he suddenly leans down, lips brushing the shell of her ear, heat emanating off him in tantalizing waves. Her breath hitches, brain scrambling. “I don’t much care about being nice right now, Evans. Do you?”

“No,” the answer whooshes out, honest.

“Good,” he says, and she definitely feels teeth scrape against her lobe, prompting goosebumps to flower down her arms. “Come on, then.”

Certain that he’s enjoying her tormented state, she takes a deliberate step back, eyes caught onto James’s darkening gaze as she reaches for her t-shirt, pulls it up and over her head in a swift movement. The way he clenches his jaw has her skin buzzing, redder and redder even as she unbuttons her shorts and lets them drop away too. And just like that, she’s standing in front of James Potter, dressed in nothing but a red bikini set that she knows is flattering on her figure.

It’s quite a rush of thrill, therefore, when James steps towards her again with a muted swear, scorching fingers splayed over her ribcage, other hand cradling the sweat-damp skin of her neck. “Lily,” he says, lips almost brushing hers, setting fire everywhere. “Fuck, I—”

She pushes up, fits her mouth against his, kisses him slow, languid, soft. “I know,” the whisper falls from her tongue, only a heartbeat away. “Me too.”

“I want you to remember that.”

A confused frown stitches her brows together. “What?”

“I want you,” he repeats, “to remember that you like me.”

“Okay, but why would—” her voice transforms ungracefully into a shrill shriek when James suddenly picks her up and promptly throws her into the pool, guffawing the entire time.

The betrayed annoyance persists only until she breaks the surface, finds him dive in right after. Sturdy arms instantly encircle her waist, warm mouth back on hers, smile pressed against wet lips that won’t stop beaming in return.

[lumosinlove]

Between Fifth and You

(cw in tags)

~

chapter one

“Olives or twist?”

Sirius had to watch the barkeep’s mouth to make out the words beneath the pounding music, which meant Sirius caught the way his eyes skittered across his face almost fearfully. The sheer amount of obsidian in this place probably did nothing to lighten his features. Not to mention, few people knew how to look him in the eye.

“Twist,” he said.

The man nodded and flipped the bottle of gin until it dipped into a shot glass, the glass into the ice. Sirius watched until he was stirring the bitters in and a hand appeared on his shoulder, lips to his neck.

“Burn this,” Saint said, and plucked at Sirius’ shirt sleeve, rubbing the black material between his fingers. Sirius raised an eyebrow as he turned. Saint’s own shirt was unbuttoned half way down his hard chest, light brown skin warm in the flashing club lights. “You’ve worn it too many times.”

“Hello to you, too,” Sirius said. “I like this shirt.”

“I liked it two months ago,” Saint replied. “It’s September now, your highness.”

Sirius scoffed as the bartender slid him his drink.

“You gonna tell everyone the sun did that?” Sirius took a clean sip of gin with one hand and stroked his other through Saint’s gold curls, only suddenly some of the slightly course strands were almost white.

Saint’s grin turned coy. “Isn’t it nice to have a mystery to think about?”

“Oh, yeah, do blonds have more fun?”

“You wouldn’t know.”

The music kicked up a beat that Sirius felt through his spine.

“Why do we always come here?” he leaned a hip against the bar. “We have an entire city.”

“Yeah, fuck the rest of the world, we have one whole city.”

Sirius rolled his eyes. “You know what I mean.”

Saint shook his head. “Because that’s what we do. You see that guy over there? I’ve taken him out four times. Couldn’t tell you his name. They couldn’t tell you mine.”

“Everyone knows your name, Saint.”

Saint grinned. “Maybe. But why do we go back to each other? Because we’re creatures of fucking habit.” Saint cocked his head, stole Sirius’ drink. “And what is this city but a bad, bad habit?”

Sirius’ blood cooled and he looked away.

What am I, Sirius? said the familiar voice from his memory. Am I easy? Am I safe? Do you want me, or am I just familiar now?

He closed his eyes against the memory of his reply.

Bad habit indeed.

XOXO

Spotted—a familiar face from the past. What has this train brought in? Thanks to a tip from @magicinthemaking, I bring you this picture of none other than Remus Lupin (and a certain Southern bell we know and love) under Grand Central’s stars. We missed you, Re—how was England? Or was it Europe?

The rumors can never seem to decide, but why the sudden change in plans to take his Junior year abroad? Here we were thinking he wanted nothing more than to stay.

I wonder how another certain star will feel about this sudden homecoming. And just in time for senior year’s Fall semester, too.

XOXO.

Remus adjusted his suitcase, glad he’d mailed so many of his things home. He’d been on U.S. soil for all of three hours, and he already missed Rome. He wanted to walk down the tiny staircase from his billet family’s apartment and get a cappuccino. He wanted to stand on the drain of the Pantheon and soak up the sheer history in the air.

He already wanted a break.

But he also wanted to see Julian. Sometimes it felt like the only thing pulling him back home was seeing his baby brother’s grin in real life rather than across a Facetime call.

“All good?”

Remus looked up at Leo. His blond hair was still bleached a bright blond from the Roman sun. Their program had ended in May, but Remus was glad they had stayed together. He hadn’t been looking for Leo—for someone to kiss for the first time in the rose garden at the top of the Aventine Hill while Leo told him about its past as a cemetery.

It’s footpaths are laid out like a Minorah, see? Leo had pointed out. To remember. 300 different types of roses isn’t enough. But I like to come here.

Remus thought it had been Leo’s love for history, and his respect, too, that had drawn him in. They both came from a world where the biggest thing most people cared about was what they’d wear to the next party, and who was bringing their next drink.

Remus hadn’t been able to believe his luck, as fragile as his heart was still.

“Yeah,” Remus nodded. “All good.”

But he wasn’t sure. They hadn’t been friends here, in the city, or at Hogwarts. It had been Rome. Remus didn’t know what their old lives would do to them. But he took Leo’s hand and watched the way Leo fingered the star he wore around his neck, the way he shot Remus his dimpled smile.

“Come on,” Remus said. “I want you to meet Julian.”

XOXO

Good morning Upper East Siders—Gossip Girl here. All trends point to Fall’s Hogwartsers coming back in Black—in more ways than one. Sirius Black’s got a baby brother on campus now, and after another wild summer for the Hogwarts College elite, count me in with the rest of them on wondering what to expect. Rumor is he’s not much like our favorite star.

“You don’t have to talk to me, you know.”

Sirius kept his eyes on his eggs and toast. “Your missing your tie. Mom said—”

“What do you care?” Regulus replied. “I hear when she used to make you wear one it usually ended up around some other guy’s neck by ten in the morning.”

“If you’re going to believe everything you read on Gossip Girl about me, then maybe I won’t talk to you.”

Regulus smirked. “So, you read it, too.” 

“Boys.”

Both brothers went back to their breakfasts.

“Good morning, mom,” Sirius said.

Walburga Black smiled with her painted lips, resting a hand on Sirius’ shoulder and bending to kiss his cheek.

“Don’t you both look handsome for your first day. Although that leather jacket has seen better days, Sirius. Do what you want for dinner, ask Chef, I don’t care. I’ll be at the House.”

The House. The House of Black, his mother’s million dollar fashion industry.

“Fine,” Regulus nodded, and rose. “I’ll take the first car.”

Sirius rolled his eyes again. “Really?”

Regulus just snatched up his backpack.

Saint, James, and Thomas were waiting for him on one of the courtyard tables when Sirius got out of the Escalade. It certainly felt like a first day of a semester. Saint’s neck dripped in gold necklaces—a story behind each one. Thomas, who had replaced his short braids with a closely shaved head, wore a white t-shirt and ripped up jean shorts, gold nose-ring glinting in the sun. James had evidently been helped out by Lily, as usual, a green, tight-fitting Henley shirt bunched up at his elbows. The two flanked Saint, who basked on top of the stone table, head tilted back to bare his throat in a way that made Sirius think of last night, in the back of the bar. He could see a purplish mark he had left there.

“You’re looking surprisingly chipper,” James said when Sirius reached Hogwarts’ courtyard.

Sirius raised an eyebrow, knowing he didn’t. “I’m not failing any classes yet, James.”

His friends went oddly silent. Sirius looked around at them, spreading his hands in confusion. Saint wouldn’t look at him, expression going oddly stoney. Thomas, finally, offered him his phone, biting his lip. Sirius took it.

His heart leapt to his throat. He didn’t even bother reading the Instagram caption. Remus loomed out at him from the phone screen.

“Leo Knut,” Saint said. “Who would have thought.”

Sirius cleared his throat and turned away from the picture—from Remus and Leo’s clasped hands.

“Why wouldn’t I be chipper?” he said again, and ignored their unconvinced expressions. “I’ve got class.”

Under his desk while he waited for the rest of the class to show, Sirius pulled out his phone and opened Instagram.

XOXO

Remus approached campus slowly. He felt like he didn’t know anyone anymore, even if he knew that wasn’t true. He thought he saw James from afar, but Lily and Kasey didn’t have class today.

Really, Remus didn’t know if he had many friends that weren’t…shared. That didn’t feel too close to home. Manhattan wasn’t that big of an island.

He looked down at his schedule he’d written out on his phone.

The 19th Century Novel - Hogsmeade R#302.

He made his way to the Hogsmeade building and climbed the spiral staircase quickly. It all felt too industrial, too metallic. At least he’d woken up with Leo, who still had the ancient air about him. He didn’t want that bubble to pop.

“Mr. Lupin,” Professor McGonagall beamed when he walked in, and Remus smiled, too at her familiar Scottish drawl. “It’s so very nice to have you back.”

“Hi, Professor. It’s good to be—”

But the words died on Remus’ tongue. He looked out at the small class—just twenty at this high level—and his heart, out of habit it seemed, had leapt at the sight of familiar dark hair.

Uh-oh. Looks like Pyramus and Thisbe are actually wishing for a wall between them this time.

Sirius’ hair was shorter than it had been at the end of sophomore year, the last time Remus had seen him. He wore a touch of a beard, too, just scruff, really, but it framed his silver eyes like darkness to the stars—two stars, which were zeroed in on Remus.

“Back,” Remus tried to recover, mouth dry. He sent McGonagall a shaky smile, and turned to find a seat, trying not to find those stars again.

He resisted the urge to close his eyes in defeat when he realized that there was only one left. He walked towards Sirius looking ahead and with his heart pounding. Leo. Leo making pancakes for him and Julian this morning. Leo making his little brother laugh. But he could smell the worn leather of Sirius’ jacket. He remembered the feel of it around his own shoulders. Are you cold, baby?

“All righty, then,” McGonagall stood from her chair and leaned against the front of her desk, looking down her spectacles at the attendance sheet. “Looks like we’re all here.”

XOXO

“Well?” Saint asked as Sirius took the joint from between his fingers.

“Sat down next to me,” Sirius said. “Didn’t say a fucking word.”

“Did you say a fucking word?” Saint raised his eyebrows.

Sirius blew out smoke. “No.”

“Well, all right, you fucking hypocrite.”

Sirius looked over at him from where they lay side by side, stretched out in the fading sunshine of Central Park. “I’m keeping this now.”

“No, you’re not. Did you pay for that? I don’t think so.”

Sirius scoffed. “Yeah, like this made a dent in the Montague treasuries.”

Saint laughed, tucking a palm behind his head. Sirius let his eyes linger on the strip of skin where his shirt rode up. He’d kissed that last night, too. It was nice with Saint. He’d been friends with him for longer than he could remember. Saint never looked for more. If Sirius snapped at him, he snapped back and then they laughed about it. Saint wandered through the world loving people freely. He kissed them, or he made them dinner, or he took them for long walks along the river. He showed them his favorite jazz club, or gave them the orgasm of their life, or read to them from his favorite books. He was New York in human form, accepting and inviting, living and breathing.

Sirius wished he was so trusting, even if trust seemed a funny word to apply to Saint.

No one ever got too close to either of them, except the other.

“What are you wearing to your mom’s fashion show?” Saint asked with his eyes closed. “It’s the event of the season.”

“Are you joking? The fittings started in July.”

“Mm, I love that,” Saint grinned, stretching. “Want to come help me decide what I’m wearing? We’re at the Plaza right now, you know that. You know my mother. If it’s not broken, break it. We’re renovating again. We can order champagne to the room.”

“Is that code for make out?”

“Partly. But I will be showing you my outfit choices.”

“Deal.”

XOXO

Remus made it back home seeing no one, but one of the butlers had an envelope with his name on it waiting for him.

“Thanks, Moody,” Remus murmured, but thought briefly about handing it right back to him.

He knew this invitation. He knew its black boarders and heavy stock. It came ever year.

It used to be something they had looked forward to.

The Noble and Most Ancient House of Black

invites you

TOUJOURS PUR

“Jesus,” Remus breathed, but took it up to his room, checking the time on the way. Julian would still be at school, his parents at work. This apartment was too big for the four of them, not to mention just Remus alone.

His suitcases still lay open and unpacked on his floor, and he kicked at one without looking up.

“So, did you just forget to mention that you were home?”

Remus spun towards his bed, only to find Lily sprawled across it and fiddling with an emerald on a chain.

“I had to find out from Gossip Girl?” Lily shook her head.

Remus slapped the invitation against his thigh. “Wow, wasn’t like that was a surprise present for you or anything.”

Lily smiled, red hair in a thick french braid. “I see green and I know it’s for me. What can I say?”

Remus huffed out a laugh, and she gave a small squeal and pushed off of the bed to wrap him in a hug.

“I’m so happy you’re home, Re.”

He let himself rest his chin in the crook of her neck for a moment. ‘Thanks, Lils.”

She pulled back, hands on his shoulders. “What, no, me too?”

“I am,” he said tentatively. “But I had fun in Rome.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Southern fun?”

“His name is Leo,” Remus said pointedly, then eyed the pile of garment bags piled high on the other side of his bed. “Are those…”

“Pour moi, et pour toi,” Lily patted his cheek. “We have a fashion show to go to, sweetheart.”

XOXO

What do we think, Courtiers? House of Black’s fashion show is the biggest event of the fall. But what on Earth does doe-eyed Remus Lupin have to do within that dark forest now?

Is he a Bambi, or still the wolf we knew?

You know you love me.

XOXO,

Gossip Girl

[futurewriter2000]

Dysfunctional - pt. 1

A/N: I'm just bored.

XX

Growth is something only a little amount of people know about. Nobody truly wants to grow but they do, whether they choose to or not, through time they change.

And so as a bad man finds a bible, a good woman finds her power.

Who were you in the eyes of most people? - A question that always floated in the back of your mind. Like a pebble in your shoe, the one you could never get rid of. It was the main question that bothered you all years through Hogwarts, up to a point where you pushed it so far down and completely transformed it.

Who are you in the eyes of yourself?

Foolish question that oddly worked wonders for you and your transformation. You change your mindset, you change yourself right? At least that's what all those Muggle books had been telling you.

All Hogwarts dug their interest in you all of a sudden but you haven't thought much about it. For you, it was as if nothing had changed. You thought you didn't interest anybody and that was what made you keep yourself on the right path to focus on you and the little moments life has to offer.

"I can't believe that's her." Sirius leaned over, staring and smiling.

"Wave a whole banner, don't you." Remus retorded, rolling his eyes.

"If only she wasn't a Slytherin- by the way, how could she had got sorted into Slytherin. Since our interactions had always been so... civil and well... she posed no threat what-so-ever. I'd always imagined her being in a Hufflepuff." James added, meanwhile Sirius sat down and grabbed himself a toast.

"She lives not far from us." started Peter and all eyes turned to him. "(Y/n)." he felt the need to clarify. "I had heard loads of shouting in her house... since we lived there, everybody knew her family situation."

"Rich and spoiled?" Sirius rolled his eyes, taking another bite in his toast.

"Rich and... strict... very strict father and mother..." Peter mumbled, looking at his bread.

"Oh, that's right. Met her father once- loud old sod." James looked back, looking at you laughing with some of other Slytherins- the bad kind that caused his heart to be swallowed by his stomach. "Always so angry..." he continued, looking at you until your eyes met and he quickly turned away.

"She's got nice hair." said Sirius as all of them furrowed their eyebrows at him. "It's just an observation." he shrugged.

---

You had been starting to hang out a lot with the wrong crowd of Hogwarts. Everybody started to notice... everybody started to say they were corrupting you and the changes they noticed were quite massive.

You started talking back to the teachers. Something you have never thought of doing, since your shyness was a large part of your childhood personality. But that was just it... you weren't a child anymore, were you?

You were going out of the classroom when somebody rushed right into you, spilling the coffee in your hand all over you and your books.

The boy's eyes widened as he continued to look at the stains that were starting to show all over your uniform.

"I am so sorry, (Y/N). I swear, I didn't mean to- I just- you appeared out of nowhere-" James started to apologize. You were only staring down, staring at him, then back down and just as James was preparing to be yelled at, hexed at or cursed at you let out a laugh.

"Well hell..." you smiled up at him. "Finally a reason to get a new robe." you let out another laugh, meanwhile James only stood there.

"You're not... mad?"

"Well, being mad wouldn't really do us much favour, would it now?" you picked up your books that weren't that much damaged as you thought they'd be. "Shame for the coffee tho. Can't really function without it."

"Coffee?" he repeated. "You're mad about the coffee?" he started to feel a bit relieved.

"I don't joke about coffee, Potter. You should know that." you wiped the books with the sleeves of your uniform. You started to take off the robe so that you would only stand there in front of him with your shirt, tie and skirt. Only then James started to realise how much your body has changed since the last time he had seen you. Your breast, specifically, where he could see your finely shaped lace bra through the coffee stain. He felt his cheeks go red, radiating through his faint freckles and you couldn't help yourself but to smile.

"I'm so sorr- rry." he muttered again, taking off his robe and offering it to you. "Here. Take it."

"Oh, nice. A Gryffindor robe." you took it and wrapped it around yourself. "Though, I always imagined stealing it." you winked and he let out a laugh.

"Would fit your house perfectly."

"Theft?" you questioned. "No. Not a trait for Slytherins."

"No?" he grinned, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning back. "If it's not their trait, then whose is?"

"Mine." you winked again, grabbing the bag from the floor as James grabbed your books. "Now, imagine a Slytherin coming into the common room with a Gryffindor robe. God, I'd piss them all off."

James started to laugh. "You hate your own house?"

"Oh, God no." you let out a laugh as you started to walk beside him and notice him looking at you, observing you. "I just find this house thing rivalry real funny." you said, finding him still staring. You stopped and turned around. "What are you staring at Potter?"

"You, clearly." he pointed out bluntly. "It suits you so much better than me and it clearly doesn't even fit you."

You started to laugh. "Well, don't get jealous over it. I'll give it back to you when we reach the dungeons."

"Oh, you can give it back later?"

"Why?"

"Because you can see everything through the stains. Why do you think I offered it to you? Plus, you said you wanted to piss off Slytherins and I'd like to piss of Slytherins as well."

"A common interest."

"Exactly."

"Though, I think they'll live, knowing I wear a bra and that I have... a body. Maybe they'll finally stop thinking I'm half mermaid or something." you started to joke and so did James. "If I really wanted to piss them off, I'd use a tie because a robe looks like any other robe, really."

James was the one that stopped now, shoving the books he held into your arms and untying his tie.

"No way, you're doing that. I was joking."

"I'm not." he smiled with his teeth and pulled it over his head. He untied yours and pulled it over yours, exchanging it for his own, Gryffindor tie. "Tell me how it goes. " he said just before he left, lifting your tie in his fist. "I'll keep on to this- just in case I don't get mine back.

"Alrighty!" you shouted after him.

---

It wasn't until the next day when James was drowsily eating his breakfast before his practice. You came from behind and scared him half to death. His toast flew from his hand and all eyes flew to the two of you. You squeezed between him and the red-head, completely dismissing her presence as you gave James a cheeky smile.

"Want to know?"

"You made my toast fly away." he siad drowsily.

"And you made my coffee make love to the floor. Now do you want to know?"

"How are you so chirp this morning? It's not even seven?"

"Got up at 2am. Had like two coffees since then. Anyway. Do you want to know?"

"Two in the morning? Hell, why did you get up so early- that's not even early... that's like late. And yeah, I do want to know." he started t wake up to the news.

"Been studying all week at night and now I sleep in the noon and am awake in the night. Fun." you chirped.

"Okay- tell me what happened?"

"The looks- oh, my God, you should have been there when I walked it. It was like I murdered their entire family."

"No-" he let out a laugh.

"Mulciber came to me." you started to talk in a more drama-spilling tone and James got excited.

"I thought the two of you were like friends."

"Us? Maybe in another dimension but like-

' *flashback*

"What the hell are you wearing?" he stomped to you and grabbed you by your tie, to which you shoved away in a second.

"Haven't you seen this new trend? I think it goes with- you are what you eat." you started to tease, turning around like a fashion model as you placed your hands on your hips. "Or in this case, you wear what you eat and I eat coffee every day, any day." you winked.

"And the tie?"

"You like?" you continued, seeing the little jealousy burn in his eyes, except you knew far well it wasn't jealousy. It was possessiveness and you'd rather go to hell than be anybody's property. "It's from my new beau." you fanned yourself, wrapping yourself in his robe and peeking through it. "A prince on white horse came to me today-"

"Be serious, (y/n)."

"I am dead serious." you pouted playfully. "He rushed on his horse and knocked me down, spilled my poor coffee all over me. It was like love at first sight. He scooped me into his arms and said 'Oh, dear! How could I have hurt this beautiful creature.-"

"You really didn't say that?" James interrupted the story telling, laughing as the other's who were surrounding you laughed with you.

"I did. Now let me go back."

- "He didn't say that!" Mulciber rolled his eyes. "Don't tell me you're shagging a Gryffindor?"

"I'm not." you started to get more serious. "And if I would be, would it be such a bad thing doing one? I mean, you only live once, why would it be wrong not taking a taste of all four cakes." you teased again, causing him to grow redder in his pale skin.

"You stole it."

"It was pleasantly exchanged."

"Exchanged?"

"A tie for a tie." you smiled.

"Why don't we go, eye for an eye?"

"Because nobody wants to give their eye, silly." you continued.

"You really annoy me, you know."

"I do and I really do not care. I only want to go to my room and take a nap."

"I will find out, you know!"

"I don't care!"

"Who was it?!"

"Dumbledore!"

*end of fashback*

"You're crazy." James continued to laugh.

"A little dysfunctional but not crazy." you winked and got up.

"And my things?"

"Do you got mine?"

"No, I didn't think I'd see you this early."

"Well then... guess they are mine now." you leaned forward, an inch apart as both of you continued to grin at each other, not another word spoken. You didn't dare to look anywhere else than his hazel eyes, such a wonderful mixture of green, brown and yellow. It amazes you how somebody can have such a wonderful eye colour. He didn't even only have one colour but three. "Pretty." you said, still smiling and pulled away, jumping back on your feet as he turned to you, smiling.

"Wait!" Sirius spoke before you could leave. "When did... when did you become best friends?"

"We didn't." James answered and you looked down at him, raising an eyebrow and feeling amused.

"No. We just made blood bond nobody else could break." you spoke mysteriously, putting your elbows on James' shoulders and placing your head on top of his, staring at Sirius. "And now we will secretly plan the end of the world. Muahahah." you joked, standing back up as the others laughed. "See you later Potts." and with that you were gone as the other watched you.

"What... just happened?" Remus started laughing, amazed.

"They made a blood bond." Sirius pointed his finger at you disappearing.

James started laughing. "Maybe now I can ask her about what she does with her hair for you." James got up and winked at Sirius.

"Oh, would you? I really want to know." Sirius stood up and started to walk behind him. "Just... say it's for Lily or something."

James started laughing again, then realising. "Oh, shit!" he turned around, searching for the red-head that was sitting beside him. "She was telling me something when (y/n) appeared. I totally forgot about her."

Sirius started laughing loudly, tapping James' shoulder. "Good luck getting her attention now."