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fourmoony · 6 months

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𝐬𝐥𝐞𝐞𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬

remus lupin x f!reader

smut. p in v. creampie. unprotected sex. fingering. sex with a friend. language. 18+ content minors DNI.

3.2k - masterlist

summary - reader can't sleep. remus helps out. not with warm milk, though.

i'm supposed to be working on an assignment for college. but remus lupin is taking up space in my brain. so, enjoy :)

The air feels stuffy, too hot against your slick skin.

You blow a breath out in frustration, a piece of hair stuck to your forehead refusing to budge and you groan. The house is silent apart from the droning on of the electronic device between your legs that does little to abate the feeling clawing at your insides and it only makes you more frustrated. The lights in your bedroom are turned off, the world outside asleep. Everyone apart from you. You’ve spent two hours tossing and turning, and a further half hour trying to cure the ache between your legs.

It’s futile. You’ve tried everything. Every speed your overly expensive vibrator has to offer, every position, you even got out the glittery pink dildo Marlene got you for Secret Santa the previous year, leaving it out to the side after coming to the heart-breaking decision that it simply wasn’t big enough.

You feel like nothing will be big enough. Nothing feels right, nothing feels good enough, nothing is even close to tipping you over the edge. You shift, further to the left, and whine again, pressing the vibrator to a higher speed. It moves as you press the button, and the feeling of closeness is gone just like that. You growl, pushing the blankets off in a fit of rage and choose to stare at the ceiling in defeat. It’s not going to happen. You should just accept that. But you’re worked up, horny, and too fucking clammy.

The flat is quiet. Remus is asleep – the only reason you’re so nonchalant about the noise of your vibrator still buzzing against the mattress next to you, taunting you. You reach to turn it off, sitting up and putting your hair into a makeshift bun. You stare with narrowed eyes at the shadowed outline of the sparkly pink atrocity of a Secret Santa gift. It was given as a joke to make you blush. Your friends like to tease you for your innocence. It’s not something you ever would have bought for yourself. You’d blushed furiously and everyone laughed. It was addictive for the first few weeks, being able to explore your own pleasure. But now. Now, it doesn’t feel enough. Doesn’t feel as good. As big. As filling.

It’s a quick thought, a fleeting thought. A memory that makes your cheeks flush and your eyes close in embarrassment. Remus, fresh out of the shower, two seconds away from closing the towel around his waist. He hadn’t locked the door. It was an accident. You hadn’t meant to walk in on him. You’d been half asleep, bursting for a pee, and he hadn’t locked the door. Even worse, you hadn’t meant to look. But he was wide eyed and frozen, and your fight or flight had you trying to assess every part of the situation. And his nakedness was a large part of the situation.

You’re not proud of it. But you’d looked. And you liked what you saw.

And now.

Well, now, you can’t stop thinking about it. About Remus. Kind Remus who makes you tea on cold mornings, puts your pyjamas in the dryer for you when you get out of the shower, who cooks you dinner and leaves it in the oven when you work the late shift at the café down the road. He’s kind and attentive and always there to lend a helping hand. You feel silly as you clamber off your bed, knowing there’s a high likelihood that Remus will tell you you’ve taken his kindness to its boundaries.

Your feet pad quietly down the hallway of your shared flat. The under counter lights in the open plan kitchen at the end of the hall illuminate the space enough to see. Remus’ door is closed, but you twist the handle and push, wincing when it lets out an annoying squeal. Remus rouses at the sound, squinting sleepily at you as he turns. He lets out a breath, sits up on his elbow and pulls back his blanket to offer you the space beside him.

It’s not the first time you’ve climbed into bed with Remus, but you still shift nervously on your feet, biting at your lip.

“You okay, love?” Remus asks, voice deep and croaky.

It makes you flustered in your reply. Voice quiet, unsure, “Can’t sleep.”

Remus nods, reiterates pulling back the blanket to make room for you. You cross one leg over the other in front of you, fiddling with the metal daisy chain ring on your middle finger. Remus got you it when you got into university last year. It’s your favourite piece of jewellery you own, overpriced tennis bracelet from your overcompensating parents be damned. He catches your nervous tic and his eyes narrow, his head tilts, messy hair flopping sideways with the movement. There’s a slight stubble on his chin from running late this morning and skipping his daily shave and he’s sans pyjama top, having clearly also felt the heat.

He sits up fully and the blanket pools around his waist. His skin glows in the low light of the moon through the window beside his bed. He’s beautiful. This you’ve always known. Now, it’s tenfold because you’ve seen all of him. And all of him is what you want, in this moment. Your face is flames as you edge closer until you’re hovering beside his bed.

“Have you tried warm milk?” Remus asks, his voice almost teasing.

“Don’t want warm milk.” You pout.

There’s something about the way he’s looking at you, trying to sus you out. He knows. He must know something. You’re hardly being subtle. Remus’ lips twitch in a smile when you squeeze your legs together in front of you, again, lip between your teeth, eyes watery.

“What do you want?” He asks, voice breathy.

He wants you to say it. But you can’t. You won’t.

“Rem, please,” You whine, “I’ve tried everything.”

His hand reaches for yours, pulls you until you’re straddling him. His lips are a centimetre from yours, hot breath fanning out over your mouth. You press down hard against him, lips pouted. He doesn’t let up, just raises his eyebrows. A question. What have you tried?

“I couldn’t get the angle right with my vibrator,” You whisper, cheeks bright red and warm to the touch, where Remus’ thumb is gently rubbing back and forth, fingers cupping your wobbling jaw, “Then the thingy Marlene got me wasn’t-“ You huff.

Remus chuckles softly, endearingly.

“It wasn’t enough.”

Remus smiles, “You want my help?”

You nod eagerly, “Please, Rem.”

He’s on you in a second. Lips and tongue and teeth, so hot and heavy it knocks the breath from you. His hands fist the thin material of your shorts, at your waist and you bend into him, hands running up his sides, over his shoulders, into the hair at the nape of his neck. He’s hard beneath the flannel of his pyjama bottoms. You can feel it against the crease of your thigh. It makes you whine into his mouth, shifting until you’re perfectly aligned over him. His grip focusses on your arse cheeks when you grind down, a bruising grip that you relish in.

His hands push you forward, you pull yourself back. His lips leave yours, trailing along your jaw, down your neck. Your head tilts back, panting for breath, lost in the pleasure. Your stomach tightens the harder his grip gets, the harder you press down, the faster you move. You feel like a seedy teenager, dry humping yourself against him. Remus’ teeth nip at your collarbone, only to soothe over it with his tongue. You whine again, making your impatience known, but Remus doesn’t speed up.

He looks up, lips mouthing at the underside of your chin until you tilt your head back up to look at him. His pupils are blown, eyes hooded, lips curved into a sinful smirk.

“So needy.” He mumbles into your lips.

You push down harder in response. Remus grabs your hips, stills you. You pout, doe eyes watery. Remus tuts, shakes his head, “You want my help, we do it my way.”

He shifts until you’re lying beneath him, legs hiked up around his waist. He doesn’t waste time in stripping you. Your shirt, then your shorts, your panties following. He throws them across the room, and they fall into the shadows of his darkened room. You’re glad they’re gone. Your body feels like it’s burning up under his touch, featherlight as he traces the goosebumps across your skin. He presses kisses in the wake of his fingertips, to your collarbones, your chest, the tops of your breasts, your stomach, navel.

His lips are warm, wet, pressing kisses to the insides of your thighs. You’re high strung, keening, and needy. He comes back to face level, and you grumble, deep in your throat. So close. He was so close to where you need him. He’s smug. You’re about to protest when he slides a finger into you. Your mouth opens, head pushing back into the pillow. His fingers are long, but slender, and it’s not long before he adds another. Your back arches, eyes closing. The minute you close your eyes, Remus stops. You look up, furious, to find him smirking something evil down at you.

“Eyes on me, pretty girl.” He whispers, nose bumping yours.

You comply. Remus resumes, fingers pumping steadily in and out. When he’s knuckle deep, he curls them and your body jerks in response. It’s too much and not enough, a dizzying euphoria of Remus’ casual confidence and his skilful fingers. His thumb brushes your clit gently, the bundle of nerves swollen and begging for attention. You moan his name, thighs squeezing against his hips where they’re splayed open. It urges him on, he whispers quiet encouragements – good girl, that’s it sweetheart, you’re so wet for me – and you continue to writhe beneath him.

“Rem,” You gasp, hand encircling the wrist that’s pumping in and out of you, “Need you.”

“Soon,” He promises softly, lips pressing to the swell of your breast, teeth lightly nipping at the skin there, “Want you to come on my fingers first.”

His thumb moves in tighter circles, his fingers curl deeper, move faster. He adds a third, the stretch burns but in the best way. Your jaw opens on its own accord, a string of moans emitting from your throat, and you arch into Remus. His eyes meet yours, blazing with lust.

“C’mon, baby,” He urges, voice sinfully deep, demanding. “Come for me.”

You clench around his fingers, and he groans as you gush around his hand, voice high pitched, your grip on his shoulders vice like. He’s surprised you don’t snap in two with how high your back arches. His fingers pump you through the rush in your veins, his quiet reassurances blacked out by the sound of blood rushing to your ears. Your head spins and you see white as the orgasm you’ve been chasing for what must be hours by now crashes over you. You babble nonsense, buck against Remus’ fingers, mouth open, eyes wide, back arched and head pushed violently into the pillow beneath you.

Remus hovers over you when your breathing evens, eye’s a little less clouded, and his usual concerned look on his face. You smile dopily up at him, eyes bright.

“Good?” He asks.

It’s a double ended question – you good? Was that good?

You nod.

“More.” You whine, attempting to pull him closer with your legs around his waist.

“You’re insatiable.” He laughs lightly, head bending down to peck your smiling lips gently.

You nod in agreement, head tilted as you look up at him, “I’m blaming you.”

“Of course.” Remus nods, placating you.

He shimmies his pyjamas off, kicks them off the end of the bed, and comes back to crowd your space, again. Hard, he’s much bigger than you saw from Shower-Gate. Your mouth waters as his hand wraps around his dick, pumping a few times before looking back to you. His face softens when he notices your lip trapped between your teeth.

“Baby?” He questions and you soften.

“That’s,” You sigh, embarrassed, “That’s not going to fit, Rem.”

Remus laughs, the apples of his cheeks rounding out, his teeth appearing from behind his lips. His head hangs over your shoulder and you hide in his hair, mortified. The hand that isn’t supporting his weight runs softly up and down your thigh. You groan to show your mortification, heels digging into Remus’ tail bone to try kill his laughter.

“Rem,” You protest, letting a chuckle of your own slip.

Remus looks up, eyes soft, lips pressed together to stop his laughter, “I’m sorry. I’m sorry, pretty girl. I’m not laughing at you. No one’s ever said that before, you just caught me by surprise.”

You giggle, squeezing his waist with your thighs, “They’ve definitely thought it.”

Remus shakes his head, “We don’t have to.”

It’s your turn to shake your head, “I want to. I really want to.”

He smiles, leans in to kiss you. When he pulls away to pump himself again, you let out a low breath. He brushes the tip against your folds, wet and puffy, a couple times before he pushes in slowly. He groans, you moan. You’re tight, fitting around him like perfection. He goes slow until he’s buried to the hilt. You allow yourself to get used to the feeling, whimpering softly when his thumb comes to circle your clit again, working you up.

“That’s it, baby,” He speaks softly, so softly, and you moan.

He pulls back, pushes back in. Takes it slow. Allows you to adjust.

But it’s not enough. You need more. You need the raw pent-up aggression you’ve seen Remus show pervs at bars when they touch you inappropriately. You need angry Remus, who threw a book at the mantle place when your parents missed another birthday. You need the Remus who tries so hard to hide the aggressive side of him but can never fully rid himself of his primal urges, of that white hot fury and determination.

“More,” You breathe, “Faster. Harder. I need more, Rem. Please.”

You’re babbling, begging. But Remus complies. He snaps his hips forward and you all but scream. He groans, breath hot and heavy against your neck. He’s attentive, hips attacking your pelvis. His wooden headboard slams against the wall, your hand reaching up to hold on and stop you from sliding further up the bed. An arm wraps around your waist, pulling you up, closer to him. He feels deeper at the new angle, hips battering into yours. He’s relentless, hitting every spot you need.

You’re babbling nonsense, but so is Remus. Words of encouragement, words that tell you how good you’re taking all of him, how tight you are, how perfect you are. You’re meeting his every thrust, hips grinding against him, the stubble creating friction that tightens the coil in your stomach.

Remus attaches his lips to your shoulder, biting down as he pounds harder against you. You say his name like a mantra, unable to think of anything other than the feeling of him, all over, everywhere, filling, stretching, pounding.

“Rem,” You whine – so close. So, so close – “Come in me.”

Remus’ head snaps up, pupils blown, mouth hung open. He doesn’t slow down, doesn’t falter, “What?”

“Pill. Just,” You gasp when he hits that spot, “Come in me. Please. Wanna feel it.”

Remus moans. Dirty and deep. He fucking moans.

He’s relentless, sweat dripping from his forehead, he releases your waist, hikes your thigh up over his shoulder, you scream. He urges you, tells you sweet things, details how he’s going to fill you up, bites the skin of your calf. His other hand reaches down, draws tight circles that have you seeing stars. You scream his name, loud enough for the entire street to hear, using the leverage on his shoulder to lift your lower back off the bed.

The feeling is dizzying, all consuming. It’s feverish, frantic, a wild chase to the end.

You clench, he hits the right spot, the sting of his teeth on your calf emulates up your leg, the stomach muscles holding you up clench, and he calls you baby, all at the right time. You see white. It feels like your entire body explodes, lights on fire, crashes and burns. You convulse, twitching and screaming, broken words and moans of his names, clenched vice-like around him.

You’re begging. Begging him to follow, to finish in you, even in your pleasure.

You’re still floating, but coherent enough, when Remus grows sloppy, uncoordinated, drops your leg from his shoulder, falls forward, hands at your sides to hold himself up. He jerks, groans, his head falls into your shoulder, and you whine, happily, dopily, when you feel the white-hot spurts of his come against your walls.

He’s breathing heavily, both your bodies slicked with sweat. He drops his weight onto you, and you welcome him happily. Your legs wrap around his lower back, you both wince with the movement. You can feel the slickness between you both, the way he’s dripping out of you. But you’re comfortable, lips pressed to his damp hair. You trace shapes on his back until he comes to, pushing up to press his lips to yours.

The clock on his nightstand reads four in the morning.

He gets up to leave and you whine, “Don’t go.”

Remus chuckles, “Just going to get a warm cloth. Be back.”

You allow him that, grateful he had the idea. You hear him running the tap in the bathroom and he returns with a warm cloth. He’s gentle when he wipes you clear. You wince and flinch, blushing when Remus presses gentle kisses to your thighs as he works. He whispers softly between kisses how pretty you are, how well you did.

He discards the cloth in the wash basket by his door and returns to the bed.

He groans as he settles, holding his arm out for you to fall into him. You do so, swinging a leg over his thighs. It’s then that you realise you’re both still very naked, and your shyness returns. Remus traces shapes on your arm, tucking his head over yours, lips to the crown of your head.

“I can hear your cute little brain running laps, you know.” Remus teases.

You roll your eyes, push your face further into his neck.

“I just came to you in the middle of the night for sex,” the post coital dread sets in tenfold, despite feeling the most relaxed you’ve felt in weeks, “I’m so sorry, Remus.”

You feel Remus shrug, “Don’t fret, sweetheart. I was more than happy to oblige.”

“But-“

“Get some rest, honey. We can talk more tomorrow.” He assures you, pulling the blanket further up your naked bodies.

You concede, pressing a kiss to the underside of his jaw, the stubble tickling your lips, “Okay.”

He pulls you closer, settles in. You allow sleep to wash over you, let the relaxation in your bones pull you under. It’s a dreamless sleep, a comfortable sleep, wrapped in Remus’ arms.

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whenlilyfallsinlove · 25 days

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jolene

james potter x reader

this is not a good fic for james.. (love him tho) and my remus bias is SHOWING. i love lily. no lily hate.

jolene, jolene, jolene, jolene i'm begging of you please don't take my man jolene, jolene, jolene, jolene please don't take him just because you can

a small part of you knew that, although you were the one dating james potter, lily evans still held a place in his heart. i mean it was sad right? someone you were in love with, someone you were dating, was in love with someone else. but for some reason you had grown accustomed to it, was this stupid of you? yes, maybe. but you didn't want to lose james, as both a boyfriend and a friend. so it felt like a logical thing.

you knew lily evans didn't like james either, not even as a friend. she hated the boy. you thought back to the gossip you had had with her, marlene and dorcas when they found out you were dating him.

"merlin y/n, james?" lily had whispered-shouted the very night she found out that you were dating him.

"hey.. he's not that bad." you chuckle.

"that's not gonna convince her, it's a well known fact lils hates james." marlene laughs.

"that's true." you respond.

"and i thought you liked remus anyway." lily teases.

"that was in like 3rd year, i've been over that ages." you feel your face heat. sure you had liked moony once, but you had liked james for a while now.

"he's better than james though, seriously you can do better y/n." lily tells you.

you giggle, but then see dorcas with a confused look on her face.

"you alright dorcas?" marlene raises an eyebrow.

"yeah i just.. i have a question." dorcas speaks up.

you nod at her to speak.

"when did james get over lily? i'm not saying he doesn't like you of course y/n, but up until the other week, he was obsessed with her." dorcas thinks aloud, in all fairness, asking the question on everyones lips.

you sigh.

"i asked him that, he told me he was trying to deflect the fact that he really liked me, and he was too nervous to flirt with me so flirted with lily instead to hide his true feelings." you mutter, now realising that james' reasoning was.. maybe not the best.

"aww thats cute y/n.." marlene sees the look on your face and tries to comfort you.

"yeah." you smile, weakly.

"and don't worry y/n, i would never go anywhere near potter. and i think he does like you and not me." lily reassures you.

noticing your discomfort, the girls changed the subject, but you couldn't nudge the feeling of doubt in your chest. now that you thought about it, james' reasoning felt a bit.. excuse like? but no, he asked you out, not lily. so he must like you?! relationships were complicating; you guessed you'd have to wait to see how things played out.

your beauty is beyond compare with flaming locks of auburn hair with ivory skin and eyes of emerald green

"hello gorgeous." james grins at you cheekily, planting a kiss on your cheek as you take a seat next to him at the gryffindor table.

"guys do we really need to be doing this at eight o'clock in the morning." sirius fake gags. you stick your tongue out at him in response, causing him to laugh.

"just cos you're lonely padfoot." james chuckles.

sirius playfully rolls his eyes at him, and you see remus looking at you from the other side of the table. you smile at him which he returns but looks away quickly, feeling like he's been caught doing something he shouldn't.

james wraps an arm around your waist, and starts telling you whatever new prank him and sirius were planning on snape.

"and then we were planning to turn his hair green." he smiles at you.

"poor snape." you tease.

"what? you planning on leaving me for snivellus?" james raises an eyebrow, playfully.

"of course." you respond chuckling.

your playful banter was interrupted by lily approaching you, carrying your transfiguration book. of course, you invited her to sit with yourself and the marauders but she didn't like to be near james for long periods of time.

"y/n, you left this in our dorm this morning." she smiles at you and hands you the book.

you smile back. she looked extra pretty today, her green eyes sparkling, her auburn hair shiny. it made you feel a little self-conscious.

"thanks lils, what would i do without you?" you laugh.

"you wouldn't be able to cope, that's for sure." lily smiles at you, giving you a wave, heading back to her own seaat.

"thank godric for that, mcgonagall would've been fuming-" you turn back to james, your words faltering seeing his face.

his face was bright red and he looked distracted as he gazed off into the distance. you followed his gaze to see what was wrong with him. then you realised. james was looking at lily. and he had a stupid goofy smile on his face. what a prick! he was YOUR boyfriend.

"james, are you okay?" you snap him out of his daze.

"yeah yeah, perfectly fine love." he turns back to you, his blush fading.

then it was as if everything was back to normal. sirius, james and peter engaging back into their normal conversation. you were quieter however. remus remained quiet as well, noticing the dejected look on your face. he gave you a comforting smile across the table and you gave him a weak one in return.

at that moment, you wished nothing more to be lily evans.

your smile is like a breath of spring your voice is soft like summer rain and i cannot compete with you jolene.

"i don't want to feel like a second choice to you james! i love you." you sighed. this was yours and james's first argument. and you HATED it.

"i love you too y/n, of course you're not my second choice!" james tries to comfort you.

"i just feel like you're just settling for me because lily doesn't like you!" you admitted.

"well that's not true y/n, i told you.. i was using lily to coverup my feelings for you." james lets out a exasperated sigh.

"sometimes it doesn't feel that way james, i don't want to be the person you settle for just because you cannot have her (iykyk)" you rub your forehead with your hand.

"y/n.." james puts his arm around you. "it's you i'm dating.. not evans. don't be jealous!"

you scoff. "of course i'm jealous, she's beautiful and you were obsessed with her long before dating me."

"and i'm not anymore. just drop it y/n. i love you not her." james frowns.

you sigh and cave in.

"i don't like arguing with you james." you say, as you rest your head on his shoulder.

"i don't like arguing with you either y/n" he sighs, and pulls you closer.

you couldn't stop thinking about lily though. you were friends with her, and she would never intentionally hurt you. you knew deep down james still liked her, feelings don't go away that easy.

he talks about you in his sleep and there's nothing i can do to keep from crying when he calls your name jolene

gryffindor house were infamous for throwing the best parties. and tonight was living proof. gryffindor had just won a quidditch match against slytherin which of course meant a big celebration. and of course, your boyfriend and captain of the team james potter was the main centre of attention.

"he's nuts." you shake your head at sirius, when you see james dancing and obnoxiously singing to dancing queen by abba in the middle of the common room.

"he's bloody brilliant." sirius takes a sip of firewhiskey, chuckling.

the man in question headed towards you.

"y/n, would you care to join me." he jokingly bows down, holding his hand out for you to take.

"indeed i would." you giggle and take his hand.

he pulls you to the middle of the common room, twirling you around/ you laugh and join in singing and dancing. you could tell he was a little drunk but you didn't mind.

as the party went on, you had somehow lost contact with james. he was a social butterfly of course, probably talking to his friends. you yourself were stood with marlene, dorcas and lily, sipping your drinks, giggling at the antics of some of your housemates.

the party eventually thinned out, at about 3 in the morning, when mcgonagall told them to quiet down. eventually it was just you and as you looked towards the jukebox (which was playing jolene by dolly parton) remus carrying a half unconscious james.

you walked up to the two.

"he's drunk too much." remus chuckles.

"unsurprising, i'm sure he had already had about 4 firewhiskeys in the first hours." you smile affectionately at james.

remus notices your smile, and smiles wider.

"you don't usually come to parties, do you remus?" your question catches remus off guard.

"n-no i don't. just wanted to support my friends." he responds, knowing that was probably a good answer judging by the smile on your face.

you turn back to look at james.

"let's get you to bed ay?" you say, trying to wake him.

"l-lily?" james whispers, seemingly in his sleep.

your heart dropped. of course he was dreaming about lily.

"i'm not lily." you grit your teeth. "would you rather have her take care of you?"

remus sees your face and is quick to comfort you.

"don't worry y/n, he's drunk, he probably doesn't know any better." he says.

you nod and sit down on one of the armchairs.

how could you ever compete with lily evans?

#james potter x reader #james potter x you #james potter x y/n #harry potter x reader #angst #x reader #fanfic #remus lupin #sirius black #lily evans #marlene mckinnon #dorcas meadowes #remus lupin x reader #marauders #marauders x reader #remus lupin x you #remus lupin x y/n

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wolfofwritingstreet · 1 year

Note

Hello

If you’re into the marauders (i know you are), a cat animagus interacting with the marauders without them realising that she’s not a real cat please.

AN: Hello there... It is I... The man the myth the legend... I am two of those things ... my p is large ... enjoy

Reblog, vote, comment, request.

KITTY

FEM!READER X PLATONIC!MARAUDERS

Currently, your butt was being scratched... Now, this would be weird if you weren't a cat. Well, you weren't like a cat-cat, but you were an animagus - curtesy of being a part of the infamous Marauders. Though, you were an illegitimate animagus, so only: Sirius, Remus, James and Peter knew that it was in fact you on Lily's lap rather than an actual stray.

"You are such a cute kitty." Lily cooed, scratching your ears with her nails whilst her other hand flipped through the charms homework you were yet to start reading. Oh well, hopefully Remus would do it for you if you promised him chocolate on the annual Hogsmead trip.

"I want to hold it-" You bristled at Alice's use of 'it', and Marlene lent forward to smack her leg.

"She is a she, A."

"Oooh, my bad kitty. You are a lady."

"What are you ladies fawning over." You flopped back onto Lily's legs in defeat, hearing the cocky voice of Sirius wash over you. That boy constantly claimed it was the 'household hierarchy' that dogs trumped cats. But you knew that was in terms of idiocy, as you had caught the grey-eyed boy chasing his tail when he thought none of you were watching.

"Kitty?" James stared at you, and you stared back with big yellow eyes.

"Yes, James. It's a cat." Lily rolled her eyes, and you hissed when Sirius flicked your ear. The problem with being a cat, is ear flicks hurt ten times more.

"Don't do that!" Dorcas cried, scooping you up into her arms and carrying you to safety as you smugly watched Sirius get verbally beaten down by the girls who's group cat you had become since the start of the year. You'd told them all you were practicing quidditch after hours, and nobody questioned it- well the boys didn't have to.

"Let it go now, Dorc. She needs to go now, we've had her long enough." Marlene didn't even crack her eyes open when she took a long drag from her cigarette, before pointing it at the common room door.

"Fine." Dorcas gently lifted your front paw and waved it, you would have flushed at the boys grins if you were human, but alas you could do nothing but wave a floppy paw. Dorcas eventually made it outside the common room and placed you down, giving you a toe curling scratch behind the ear. "See you later, Kitty."

Dorcas gave a little wave, before disappearing back into the common room. By the time someone came back out, you had changed back and were pulling a piece of cat hair from your mouth with a grimace.

"Evening, Kitty." A low voice drawled mockingly from the doorway.

"Don't say a word, Black."

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THANK YOU FOR READING, will be making shorter posts to keep me motivated. VOTE, COMMENT, REBLOG, and REQUEST.

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lixzey · 5 months

Text

forever and always

in which eighteen-year-old y/n l/n gets thrown back into 1975 by a mysterious time turner she finds after the battle of hogwarts.

regulus black x reader

time turner au

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danaewrites · 4 months

Text

you with the dark curls (you with the watercolor eyes)

part ii: i wanna hear you speak to me

james potter x reader // read it on AO3

word count: 3.6k

summary: “Falling in love with your best friend was never a good idea, but you’d managed to do the idiot thing anyway, carrying a torch for a boy who would never look past Lily’s emerald eyes to see the watercolor ones that had always been by his side.”

tags: best friends to lovers, angst with a happy ending, based on the song "dear arkansas daughter" by lady lamb, fem!reader

author's notes: new year, new chapter! i started writing this one back in SEPTEMBER and finally had enough time away from the terrors of calculus homework to finish it. thanks for reading my story so far and i hope you enjoy this incredibly self-indulgent chapter, because i had way too much fun writing it!! i promise that the angst in this chapter *will* be resolved, but it was too deliciously tempting to resist sprinkling a wee bit of hurt/comfort and dramatics in there as well. sorry not sorry!

read it all here: part i, part ii, part iii (coming soon!)

“I’ve got no bloody clue how Dumbledore can be so energetic all the time,” you groaned, head in your hands as you peeked out at the headmaster’s more-than-slightly manic grin from your seat at the Gryffindor breakfast table. You were far too sleep-deprived to process his latest choice of garish attire: a bright chartreuse robe covered in plaid polka dots, topped off with what appeared to be rhinestones and tinsel attached to his beard.

Perhaps if Kettleburn hadn’t assigned you three feet of parchment on the seventeen glorious properties of dragon dung yesterday and expected it done by this afternoon, you might have appreciated the headmaster’s creative fashion choices– oh, who were you kidding. There really was no understanding that wizard, even properly rested. James and Peter had made a bet during fifth year on how long it’d take Dumbledore to crack under a constant deluge of pranks in his office, but they’d quickly realized that the man was too far gone to do anything but take inspiration for school events– an idea that was quite frankly, comically frightening, and the sort of thing you weren’t keen on pondering on a normal Tuesday morning.

Sirius wrinkled his nose sympathetically and slid the pile of raspberry jam tarts closer to you. “Late night in the library again?”

You nodded sheepishly, gratefully taking a pastry from the pile. “I honestly don’t know why Pince allows me to stay past curfew. Marauder’s luck, I guess?” Your attention was diverted by the sound of hoots and flapping wings as the morning owl brigade arrived, apparently choosing a kamikaze dive-bomb approach to deliver this morning’s newspapers. Ah, the joys of living at the world’s most advanced magical school.

Sirius, ever the epitome of grace, slipped under the table as a rogue owl zipped past, popping himself back up just enough to throw you finger guns. “Exactly right, doll, exactly right,” he grinned. “Trust me, Marauder’s luck gets you everywhere. And I mean everywhere,” he winked, sending you a lecherous smirk.

“Ew, Sirius, I don’t even want to know,” you sniffed. “I’ve learned my lesson after the mental trauma your tales of Dorcas’ birthday adventures inflicted upon my psyche. Please, spare me the details.”

“What? All I meant was Slughorn’s Christmas Party, of course!” He batted his eyelashes angelically, still partially covered by the tablecloth.

Your mouth gaped open in shock. “Last year’s Christmas party? Sirius Orion Black, I refuse to hear another word! What on earth would your ancestors think, with you bragging about such exploits-”

He leaned over, eyes wide with laughter. “No, I meant the one Slughorn is throwing on the 21st, it’s exclusively for us lucky seventh years this time. Although, you bring up some very fond memories… okay, okay, I’ll stop, don’t kick me–”

“What are we kicking Sirius for?” James slid onto the bench across from you, eyeing a groveling Sirius with interest. Peter joined him, but wisely chose to stay away from the ruckus, piling his plate high with the bacon the owls had spared. Remus was noticeably absent, spending the morning resting in the infirmary after a rough night of shifting– which you assumed was much more peaceful than the current chaos at the Gryffindor breakfast table.

“Oh! Good morning, Jamie,” you beamed up at him, passing him the plate of desserts you’d been protecting from Sirius’ nefarious advances. “Morning, dove,” he greeted you, and then paused. “Ha, get it? Morning dove?” He puffed up his chest smugly and nudged Sirius with his elbow in a futile effort to make him laugh. You huffed fondly at his antics. Boys.

Sirius rolled his eyes and took advantage of your momentary distraction, retreating back onto his seat to nurse his wounds– to your ever-growing delight (and Sirius’ woe), you had recently discovered that the Hogwarts girls’ uniform shoes were quite sharp. “At this point we should call you Lames. ‘Cause your puns are lame,” he muttered.

You shooed him away with a brush of your hand, remembering what Sirius had mentioned earlier. “According to Sirius, Slughorn’s hosting a Christmas Party again this year. Let’s pray it won’t be like the last one.” You muttered. James and Peter both looked vaguely ill at the prospect, shuddering in unison. “My tie will never look the same again,” Peter griped, but suddenly sat up straight in his seat. “Hey, wait, we’re finally old enough to bring dates to this one! Without sneaking them in, I mean.”

Sirius snickered and lightly punched his shoulder. “Why, Petey, got some lucky girl in mind?” Peter reddened and glanced over at the Hufflepuff table, where a certain freckled blonde was chatting with her friends– a move that didn’t go unnoticed by James, who gave a delighted wolf-whistle. “You got a thing for Lucy Abbott, huh? Might want to make a move before Smith does,” he grinned, gesturing to the tall brunette boy who’d just arrived and sharing a knowing smirk with you. You giggled at Peter’s increasingly pouty expression; he’d figure out sooner or later that Smith was definitely not interested in Abbott– or witches in general– but it was entertaining to see him out of his comfort zone. Peter had always been the quietest of your little group, and you privately thought that a bit of momentary romantic angst might spur him to be more assertive. An ironic opinion, considering how your own love life revolved around the fact that your best friend had feelings for someone else… and you couldn’t do anything about it except mope.

Peter scowled. “Easy for you to say, Prongs, you’ve finally got precious Lily-flower wrapped around your finger. I bet you’ve already asked her!”

There it was: another reminder that James wasn’t yours, and never would be. You watched as the Gryffindor boys good-naturedly jostled his shoulder and tousled his curls. James grinned sheepishly, shrugging off their teasing. “Not yet,” he admitted, glancing hopefully at the end of the table, where Lily was chatting with her friends.

Peter rolled his eyes. “Aw, come on, we all know she’ll say yes this year.” Sirius winced, looking at you out of the corner of his eye. Peter glanced at Sirius, drawn by the movement. “What’ve you got to worry about? Half the population would kill Dumbledore to get one dance with you. The only person who’s got to worry about a date is me– well, and maybe Y/n, I guess.” His face suddenly turned contemplative, looking you up and down. “Are you going with someone?”

Sirius’ grimace became doubly pronounced at Peter’s tactlessness, and you felt your face heating up. Peter had a way of accidentally hitting on the issues others tried to hide. It wasn’t his fault he’d never heard about your trips to Hogsmeade with a paramour– in fact, none of the boys had. Because there hadn’t been any. You’d spent your entire time at Hogwarts pining after James, and as a result had missed the romantic milestones your classmates had already blissfully bragged about.

Peter looked at you expectantly, waiting for a response, and you opened your mouth to confess your lack of experience when you spotted a familiar redhead walking gracefully towards your side of the table– to James, you realized with a start. Something within you ignited as you watched her glow with confidence, carefree and lovely as ever. Lily would never pine after someone uselessly; she knew she could get anyone she wanted with the right amount of banter and flirty gestures. You... Well, you weren’t there quite yet, but maybe it was time to take inspiration from the Muggle saying and ‘fake it til you make it’. And before you could think about what you were about to do, you turned to Peter and smiled coyly. “I might.”

James’ and Sirius’ heads snapped up immediately from their perusal of the breakfast lineup as they let out an identical murmur of surprise. “What?” James furrowed his brow, looking you up and down– seemingly trying to discern whether you had taken a holiday from your senses, most likely via Bludger-induced concussion at the last Quidditch match. Sirius merely raised a questioning eyebrow at you. You groaned internally, knowing that you’d have to explain yourself later… although, if your half-baked idea worked, you’d be spending a lot more time with him anyway. For now, you beamed innocently at both of them and took a sip of your pumpkin juice. Apparently, the Sorting Hat had placed you in Gryffindor for a reason- you were either incredibly brave or incredibly foolish to commit to this plan, but with Evans quickly approaching, you saw no other choice.

Peter looked momentarily shocked, then glumly began to assemble an egg and bacon sandwich seasoned with the occasional mutterance of “unfair” and “perpetually single, my arse”.

James’ eyes were still trained on you. “Who is it?” he asked, searching your face again as if he was looking for some indication that you were joking. You shrugged, trying to look casual. “I guess you’ll just have to find out, won’t you?”

“Dove-” he began, but Lily finally reached his seat and placed one stupidly perfect hand on his shoulder, diverting his attention momentarily. “Sorry to interrupt your breakfast, but Professor McGonagall asked me to bring you to her office for Quidditch scheduling.” James blinked, glancing up at her and then at the rest of the table. He stood up and focused on you again, expression clouded. “I’ll see you in Potions, yeah?”

Sirius stood up quickly, ushering him out of his seat with a speed you’d only seen him use to gulp down cheap Firewhiskey. He gave you a significant look. “Actually, Y/n and I were just about to take a walk, isn’t that right? So we'll both see you in Potions, what a sublime coincidence, now don’t be late for your meeting–” he chattered on as he shoved James toward the doors of the Great Hall, the latter eyeing him suspiciously but moving nonetheless. Sirius turned to you and pointed to the courtyard entryway. “You. Me. Talk, as in right now.”

Once you were sure that you’d made it out of earshot of Peter and the rest of the Gryffindor table, you wheeled around to face him. “Okay. First of all… I didn’t plan that.” Sirius raised an eyebrow again. “Second of all, I need a favour,” you pleaded, staring up at him with the most adorable doe eyes you could physically summon. They were usually most effective on James, for some reason, but you were sure that Sirius wasn’t immune to your manipulation either. He groaned, resting his face in his hands. “How do you even have a date? Last time I checked, also known as yesterday, you were still head over heels for Prongsie, doll. So do I need to check you for Amortentia or somethi–” He peered out from between his fingers with annoyed realization. “You don’t have a date, do you.”

You blinked innocently up at him. He let out a long-suffering sigh and ran his hands through his hair. “This is what you need the favour for? You want me to go with you to Slughorn’s party so you can pretend in front of the rest of Hogwarts that you’re not madly in love with Jamie?”

You grinned confidently up at him and slung an arm around his shoulders. “Aw, Siri, you know me so well. It’s almost as if you were maaaade to be my date for the party...” You fluttered your eyelashes up at him one more time for good measure, trying to hide a smirk. “Alright, alright, stop with the Bambi act, I’ll take you.” He scowled good-naturedly. “You know, this is going to ruin my dating pool for the next month.”

You scoffed. “As if! If anything, you’ll just have more people fawning over you– temptation of the forbidden apple and all, you know.”

Sirius brightened up considerably at this revelation. “Well, why didn’t you say so in the beginning, doll! I vote that we match in purple velvet, it does wonders for my complexion–”

You gave a very unladylike snort at the thought of you and Sirius swanning into the party in some sort of horrendous plum-coloured disco getup, and shooed him away towards the Potions classroom. That was an eyesore to imagine sometime when you weren’t about to get a headache from the dim dungeon lighting.

Slughorn greeted you and Sirius by directing you to the front of the classroom with a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Oho, a pair of latecomers, I see!” He winked at you and Sirius in exaggerated motion. You winced as Snape jeered and nudged Malfoy, who was busy enjoying Flint’s crude gestures at you. Ugh, Slytherin boys. The worst of the lot. Their snickers were quickly stopped by James chucking a handful of powdered wormwood at their heads when Slughorn turned away, making Malfoy’s prized hair appear covered in soot. You shot him a grateful smile.

“Since you two missed my initial remarks, let’s see if you can make it up by identifying today’s potion, hmm?” Slughorn gestured dramatically to a shimmering green brew in a cauldron next to his desk, cherry-coloured smoke curling off of the top invitingly.

Sirius shot you a panicked look, clearly not expecting to be put in the academic spotlight, but you shook your head and stepped closer. You smelled something rich and incense-like, which meant that Bumburrel leaves were a key ingredient. And combined with the way the smoke was drifting lazily around your wrists, curling higher and higher… “Brew of Mandelian, sir. Used for sharpened acuity under times of pressure.”

Slughorn gave a delighted chuckle and clapped his hands. “Well then! Ten points to Gryffindor for paying attention in lectures!” He dismissed you and Sirius with a wave, moving on to explain the finer points of ingredient preparation to a very bemused George Goyle as you slipped into your usual seat beside James.

You worked in quiet harmony for a moment, methodically slicing and crushing the slippery beetles needed to give the brew its signature green colour while James handed you the insects. He broke the silence after six beetles (not that you had been counting or anything) with an awkward, “So… you have a, erm, date?”

You huffed, motioning for him to hand you the foul-smelling Moorish tubers next. “Honestly, James, is it that surprising?” He scratched the back of his neck, frowning. “Well, I– yeah, I guess.” he trailed off, seeing your expression.

“The tubers, Jamie, thank you. I mean, you looked at me like I was a ghost back in the Great Hall!” You were decidedly not making eye contact with him, trying your best to focus on the slimy plants in front of you and not the fact that your best friend-slash-unrequited crush doubted your romantic potential. What a way to be humbled– and while covered in tuber juice, no less!

He huffed, running a hand through his already messy curls. “Come on, Y/n, it’s not like that. What did Sirius want to talk about in the Great Hall, anyway? You two looked… chummy.”

You glared down at the copper slicing board. “Well, it’s none of your business how chummy we are, is it? I don’t interrogate you every time you converse with Peter. In fact, it’s rather expected that Sirius and I speak to one another on occasion, considering the amount of time we all spend together thanks to you.”

You moved to grab another tuber from the jar, but James reached out and grabbed your hand, forcing you to look at him. His hazel eyes were alight with frustration, a look you knew by heart thanks to the hours you’d spent tutoring him in History of Magic after he napped his way through the entire first semester. “Are you serious? You’re actually going with someone?”

“Please, Jamie, do enlighten me on whyever you think I couldn’t possibly get a date with my numerous and diverse charms,” you sniffed, hoping to Merlin that he would just leave the entire subject alone.

“No, it’s–” he groaned, leaning back in his seat. “The other boys, they don’t know how– you’re so, I mean, just look at you!” he exclaimed, gesturing at you. He stopped, frowning to himself, looking more confused than before. He glanced over at Lily, expression becoming even more muddled, brow furrowed and hard to read to anyone but you.

Your mouth parted in shock, and to your dismay you felt tears bubbling up again. You blinked fiercely, refusing to let him see you cry. James thought the issue was… your looks? You suddenly wanted to crawl under Slughorn’s desk and never come out again, except perhaps to find a shovel to dig your grave with. This was far, far worse than watching him transfigure chocolates for Lily every Valentine’s Day. Now you knew for a fact he didn’t find you attractive– thought other boys didn’t either, even! And the way he’d clearly mentally compared you to Lily after what he’d admitted… well. There was no recovering from that. Teenage boys could be dense, but Merlin, how you had wanted him to at least let you down gently.

You wished you’d never opened your mouth to lie about having a stupid date in the first place, but you forced yourself to laugh and mutter something trite about how that could all be fixed with a couple glamour charms anyway so it really wasn’t an issue for the party, thank you very much. He looked even more confused, opening his mouth to respond, but Snape chose that moment to interrupt.

“Hey, Potter!” James turned to scowl at the greasy Slytherin as you thanked your lucky stars for Snape’s interruption (a rather disturbing thought– potentially a harbinger of an imminent apocalypse. You’d never thanked Snape before in your life and hoped to never do it again). “Here’s payback for earlier,” he smirked, checking that Slughorn had dozed off and the other students weren’t paying attention before whipping a mottled yellow bottle at James.

James’ carefully honed Quidditch reflexes kicked in and he quickly dodged the object, but as the vial soared up, up, past your carefully diced tubers, over James’ messy notes, it hit your arms and shattered. You flinched in pain, crying out as the glass shards embedded themselves in your arm and the congealing, repulsive liquid dripped down your hands and onto your thighs. James lunged towards you, but it was too late– the potion had already seeped into your skin, causing an awful sparking sensation.

You gasped, grabbing onto the desk as the feeling bubbled upwards. “Jamie, I don’t– I don’t feel–” you stuttered, suddenly lightheaded, and you heard someone gasp as you began to taste something metallic. You absently touched your nose. Why was it so cold and wet? You had been so careful not to touch your face around those horrid tubers and oh, oh Merlin and Morgana what was that pain in your hands and legs, please no make it go away someone help me help me HELP

You vaguely registered someone whimpering in the background. It might have been you, but you weren’t entirely sure what was happening outside of the electric symphony of agony crescending in your nervous system. The pain built swirled flooded through until you weren’t sure where you ended and the potion began which was a funny thought because of course you were you, but you couldn’t remember who you were before this so you laughed but that really hurt, oh how that hurt no no no no no bad idea–

“Fuck– no–” James? Was he here too?

You blinked– when did your eyes open?– and saw him reach for you, frantically pushing his dark curls off his forehead. Why would he do that? You loved his hair, even when you were feeling funny awful things from the potion. You felt his arms scoop under you, lifting you off your seat as he caught your head from falling back. You heard a door slam open, footsteps, darkness clouding your vision–

His voice. “Sweetheart, no– don’t do that, I need you to keep your eyes open.”

You blinked again, trying to focus on James’ face. He looked pale, jaw set and tensed like it was before his Quidditch games. Were you moving? You couldn’t tell whether James was walking or the hallways were walking around you. He glanced down again, exhaling with relief once he saw whatever he was looking for. “Yeah, just like that. Keep those pretty eyes focused on me, okay?”

He thought your eyes were pretty?

James gave a tight laugh. “Yeah, I think your eyes are pretty, dove. Hold on a bit longer, we’re almost there,” he choked out.

Oh. Had you said that out loud?

But you thought– he had said something, before, you couldn’t remember now but it was important and it hurt–

Some part of you, deep where the potion hadn’t reached, had melted at his words. That part was tinged with pain, too, but in a different way, raw and honest and hopeful and all for him. Or maybe that was the potion, you were pretty sure witches weren’t supposed to melt unless they were green and lived somewhere much further west, but your thoughts on the whole process evaporated as you reached a white door and a woman and your words started to swirl until they melted too and everything went black.

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starstruckmoony · 2 years

Text

annoying.

masterlist

pairing - james potter x slytherin!reader

summary - james potter has a crush on you, but you don't feel the same way. or do you?

trope/tags - friends to lovers (kind of), grumpy x sunshine (again, kind of), fluff

word count - 8.5k

warnings - language, mentions of sex

the very first time james tried to get your attention was in your second year at hogwarts. he could not recall the exact moment he realised that he would do quite literally anything for you, even if it meant that he would have to die, but he knew for sure that you were the one he was meant to be with. remus thought he was being a bit dramatic, he was only twelve, for merlin's sake, what does he know about love, but james paid no mind to his worries and complaints. sirius, of course, supported him, and peter simply just trailed along hoping that they will make it out alive. why? well, you were a slytherin.

you were having lunch in the great hall with your peers like every other day. barty was acting like his usual joker self. which, frankly, was not his smartest idea, considering the blaringly obvious fact that everybody was eating and a choking hazard comes in package with laughing while chewing. no one really batted an eye, though. pandora was barely holding herself together, and evan was miserably failing at keeping a straight face. regulus was rather unphased and continued shoving pieces of beef into his mouth, but not while secretly chuckling at the stupid faces barty was making. you and dorcas, being the oldest ones, attempted to calm them all down, but your worries went on deaf ears. regardless, you were having a wonderful time, blissfully unaware of what your life was about to turn into.

"oi, l/n!" the laughter around you faded away and everybody's focus was now shifted to james standing at the entrance of the great hall.

"is that potter?" pandora wiped her tears away and rose up from her seat to see the show which was about to unfold. you furrowed your eyebrows as you slipped away into thought, picturing all sorts of possible terrifying scenarios, because why the hell was he addressing you all of a sudden? out of all people? and so loudly? you'd only ever spoken to him in potions class the previous year when slughorn assigned you to work together.

it was all very confusing and you weren't sure what to make of it.

you panicked when james started walking towards you and failed to notice the way your friends sniggered at the way your face went completely pale, just like that. he slipped into the empty spot next to you, smiling while he was waiting for your reaction. gasps left the mouths of multiple slytherins at the table, and your eyes widened in horror when you recieved dirty looks from snape and his peers. they were certainly going to terorise you and your friends for that.

it took you a few seconds, but you managed to connect the dots in your head. those sudden behavioural changes whenever you passed him in the corridors, the all but subtle glances he would send your way, the smiles, that weird twinkle in his eyes - everything suddenly made sense, as much as you hated to admit it. james potter had a crush on you, and he finally mustered up the courage to do something about it. and in the stupidest way possible.

"hello." you tried sound as polite as you possibly could despite wanting him to give him a hard push to the floor. you were everything but delighted by his presence, and restored to picking at the food in your plate without sparing him a second glance. regulus let out a snort.

"can i ask you something?" he leaned forward on the table with his hand supporting his chin. he was way too enthusiastic for your comfort and you wanted him gone.

"uh, alright, i guess." you shrugged lazily, biting the inside of your cheek in distress. part of you felt like you should let him speak; what if it was school related? potter was smart, and you could use some help on your transfiguration essays. the other part of you, however, was just about ready to strangle you.

"wanna be my girlfriend?" he smiled stupidly and it was followed by hollering and cheering from his friends, including your own. the students at the gryffindor table all appeared to have a million questions running through their minds, and your fellow housemates were not very pleased - not only did he ruin their lunch, but he was a gryffindor. and top of it, he was james potter.

you did a double-take. your mouth fell open in surprise. this was exactly what you feared.

"what?! no!" you whisper-yelled, petrified by his offer. your face was on fire, and not because you were flattered by his words, but purely out of embarrassment. barty and evan dissolved into laughter.

"okay, then how about a date first?" he was persistent and you moved away from him by instinct, only to have dorcas push you forward and towards him.

"no! go away!" you hissed, mortified, and turned your face away from him to hide the fact that it was burning. you almost reached for your wand and hexed them both.

"i have a book with some cool jinxes that i can teach you! it'll be fun! please!" he kept pushing, his eyes sparkling with hope. you swore you felt like smoke was about to come bursting out of your ears. regulus reached from behind dorcas and tapped your back in a comforting manner, but you did not miss the way he smirked after he retrieved his hand.

"teach me?! do you think i'm stupid?!" you snapped, finally whipping your head in james' direction with rage evident on your face.

"i thought you wanted to learn the– ow!" you kicked barty in the shin from under the table. the sudden impact made everybody's plates shake. "hey, i almost spilled my soup!"

"come on, y/n! please!" he decided to shoot his shot one more time, this time with puppy eyes, and a sodding pout, but you refused to give in. nothing in the world could have made you say yes to james bloody potter.

"no." you said sternly, crossing your arms and not allowing yourself to look in his direction again.

"fine! but just so you know, i'm not giving up," he stood up, it was amusing to you how unaffected he was by your rejection. he was as enthusiastic as he was when he first took a seat next to you, "i'm gonna make you mine."

***

and james kept his promise. the next several years at hogwarts became certainly memorable. getting rejected bruised the gryffindor boy's ego, so he was determined to prove himself to you and became quite a little show off. he was awfully cocky, and to top it all off, he did the absolute stupidest things to try and impress you - from jinxing snape after he heard him berate you for messing up a potion, to straight up helping you cheat in transfiguration class and getting himself a year's worth of detentions. he was a gentleman, though, and didn't try to pressure you into going out with him after you made it clear that you did not want to. as much as he adored you, he never went out of his way to actually do something that would cause you discomfort. no, that was his biggest nightmare.

funny enough, it was also why your hatred for him began fading away, and very unfortunately for you, there was no going back. you really had no true reason to dislike him as much as you did, which only made you loathe him even more. truth be told, you felt bad, and that was what you hated the most.

after james' terribly unsuccessful attempt at asking you out, things became rather awkward and you did everything in your power to avoid him. you despised him, or so you told yourself. your friends were sure you did, you spoke about him with so much venom in your voice that pandora thought they'd have to lock you up to stop you from using a forbidden curse on him. but then somehow, the two of you formed a strange sort of relationship, one would even call it friendship - james would randomly wind up in the same places you (he'd always claim that it was only coincidental), but you wouldn't chase him away. yeah, you'd be mean to him, obviously, and any normal person would probably cry, but he was enjoying it, because, well, it was you. when you grew closer to the gryffindor girls, mary macdonald managed to open your eyes and you saw that james wasn't the creep you assumed he was. so, you warmed up to him, and by some strange miracle, stopped completely loathing him and his presence.

though you still found him completely, utterly and unbearably annoying.

"oi, l/n! what you up to?" he showed up in the astronomy tower where you were reading one gloomy afternoon. regulus must have told him where you were, looks like someone's sleeping on the floor tonight. the lake seemed like a perfect place to drop a bed into at times. it's not that you didn't want james there, it's just that you didn't want to see anybody at that particular moment. you had grown to love colder weekends. they were the perfect excuse to avoid any unwanted trips to hogsmeade that would usually lead to you getting in trouble because barty had a habit of setting off a dozen dungbombs to poke at mulciber and snape. as satisfying as it was, you had gotten enough detentions that year and you weren't exactly prepared to receive another howler.

so, you just couldn't miss out on the perfect opportunity to go up into the astronomy tower and read in the peaceful atmosphere. it had always been much calmer up there compared to the other parts of hogwarts.

"reading." you replied flatly, returning your gaze back to the text in front of you. or at least you pretended to do so. no matter how hard you tried, you could not focus again, so you kept your eyes on the same sentence while you waited for him to do something. for a moment, you wondered what he had been up to before he found you. he peeked over your shoulder to take a better look at the writing.

you did not say a word, and you realised that if you sat there pretending to read while waiting for him to leave you alone would most likely take hours, so you continued trailing your eyes over the letters, and got lost in the story once again.

what you didn't notice is that he got invested too, completely by accident. it wasn't james' intention to come down there and read with you, he wasn't even sure what you were up to and all he wanted was to see you, but there he was, reading from behind your shoulder in the tranquil ambient of the tower.

it was when he suddenly asked you to wait before flipping the page that you realised he had been reading with you all along, and you squinted your eyes at him with a glint of curiosity in them.

"what are you doing?" you quiered. the sudden shift in the atmosphere took him off guard a bit, and he gulped when you locked your eyes with his own.

"reading?"

"didn't know that was a synonym for being an annoying little git."

"i'm not that bad." he defended himself, trying to look back at the letters. you scoffed.

"i thought you hated books." you hid the writing away from his gaze and quirked an eyebrow in amusement.

"i don't hate them. i just prefer not to read." he responded, sounding a lot more cocky than intended which drew a chuckle from you.

"way to impress a girl." you rolled your eyes.

"i am professional at it." you laughed in his face.

"at least you're honest," you shrugged, he furrowed his eyebrows in puzzlement, "merlin, are you daft? what i mean is, you're staying true to yourself. not pretending that you enjoy something just to sweep me off my feet. it's admirable."

"of course i am! i could never lie to you. you're the most beautiful creature i have ever beheld in my sight." you let out an exaggerated sound of disgust, pressing your palm against his face and pushing him away, "lay off, romeo."

"oh!" he stood up suddenly, putting his hand over his heart dramatically and looking up, "with love’s light wings did i o’erperch these walls, for stony limits cannot hold love out. " he glanced back at you. you guffawed, looking at him in bewilderment, "where on earth have you managed to hear that?"

"seen romeo and juliet at the theatre during holidays." you cocked an eyebrow at him. never would you have thought that james potter was the one who'd take interest in muggle literature. "got a favourite scene?"

james pursed his lips in thought. "the morning after." he wiggled his eyebrows and sat back down.

"that's disgusting." you laughed.

"i'm only joking, i think the balcony one would be my favourite. i'd say it's very romantic," he shrugged with a sly smirk, "and it also made me feel the least emotional pain, if you know what i mean." he put a hand to his chest for dramatic effect and sighed.

"oh, merlin." you rolled your eyes playfully, letting out a snigger at his act. "look, i'm gonna be straightforward with you right now," you began. james sat up straight. you held back a laugh, poor fool probably thinks you'll return his sorry little feelings.

"you're not nearly as distasteful as i thought you were." you poked his arm. james looked a bit perplexed, almost as if he was expecting something more (which he was).

but then he laughed breathlessly, seeming more proud than disappointed. you couldn't help but chuckle. he bit the inside of his cheek in thought as he took in the sight of you, wondering how in the hell he got so lucky to know you. you may not feel the same way, but you surely make his life seem like an utopia, even though you're quite mean to him.

"continue, please." he reached over your arm to turn the page. you were rather intrigued by whatever that was.

"hold on for a second. why are you here, exactly?" you leaned forward to prop your chin in the palm of your hand, observing his face attentively as he scratched the back of his neck in thought.

"i guess i wanted to see you." he responded honestly.

"and there i was hoping you had something exciting to tell me." he chuckled lowly. you had come to notice that his voice was getting deeper. it wasn't high pitched and annoying anymore, definitely a lot less infuriating.

"wait, i didn't finish–" he tried to stop you before you could turn the page. "sorry, guess you gotta read faster."

"that isn't fair."

"i beg to differ."

"you're so not cool."

"then why d'you keep pining over me?" james opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out. he huffed and crossed his arms. you smiled in victory, laughing when he stuck his tongue out at you.

***

by the end of year four, you had read about ten books together. he even read muggle poetry to you in the hospital wing when you got sick, which, to nobody's surprise, lead to what seemed like never-ending teasing from barty and evan (who were also james' biggest hypemen aside from the marauders). when you looked back at it a few years later, you realised that it was the moment when your first romantic feelings for him started blooming, though you would have never admitted it at the stubborn and rebellious age of fourteen. you were headstrog, a bit in denial as pandora liked to say, and top of it off, you were hard to please. in between all of that was james, who wasn't subtle about being head over heels for you in the least bit, and who would have done anything to get your attention. a match made in heaven, really.

you loved to tease him about it. he sometimes wondered why he had to be the one to fall in love with you. that's where the worst part of it all came in; feeling insecure, comparing himself to his friends, secretly wishing he was sirius (since all the gryffindor heartthrob had to do to win a girl over was to wink in her direction) and an existential crisis as an extra in the package. you clearly were never interested in him, and he couldn't help but think you never would be. sometimes, all he was doing seemed pointless, but he kept telling himself that one day you'll love him the way he loves you.

when your fifth year rolled around, you thought he would've dropped the act by then. you had matured over the summer, or at least you believed you had, and you assumed he had too. you had what some may call a summer romance with some stupid muggle boy, and to everybody's surprise, you were the one to break his heart after realising that whatever you felt for him wasn't love. a little something was stopping you from loving him and you may or may not have attempted to obliviate yourself in order to forget about james. obviously, you failed. stupid idiot.

the entirety of your holidays, you kept wondering if james had got over you, or if he was more lucky than you when it came vacation romance. you thought about him meeting a girl who actually cared for him and returned his feelings instead of teasing him, a girl that could have made him forget you completely, a girl who he had a happy ending with. you rather hated the mere thought of that. thinking about it caused an unexplainable ache in your heart.

much to your own delight, you were totally wrong.

however, things were not the same as they were the three previous years. you two became almost inseparable. dorcas kept teasing james, calling him a thief, saying he took her best friend from her. he would play along, tease her back, and tell her that he's a better best friend anyway. it made your heart flutter in a disgustingly sweet way.

you hated the way he made you feel. you hated the way you wanted to see him more often instead of avoiding him. you hated the way he smiled at you. you hated the way he tried to make you more comfortable by pointing out that you are indeed just friends. you hated james potter, yet you couldn't get enough of him.

you would never admit it, though, no. he was still that stupid little boy who offered to teach you jinxes, that idiot who chased snape away from you like a proper knight in a shining armour, that tosser who's voice was still cracking when you read together in the tower, that adorable–

"do you fancy going to hogsmeade with me tonight?" james appeared from behind you the moment you exited the classroom after finishing with ancient runes.

"studying, sorry." you shrugged, pulling out a piece of parchment to remind yourself which class you had next. "really? that's more important than me?" he sighed in disappointment, trotting after you as you began making your way over to the transfiguration classroom.

"who said you're important to me?" you smirked and looked over your shoulder. he flipped you off with a playful eyeroll, chuckling at the way you looked so proud of yourself for that comment. "i'll meet you at the portrait hole at six." you added.

the two of you entered the classroom, laughing over some horrible joke he cracked on the way. you took your usual seat next to dorcas who shot you a funny look the moment you stepped through the door.

"what?" you deadpanned before slamming your book onto the table and flipping through the pages. "care to explain?"

"explain what?" you scrunched your face up at the amused look on her face.

"twat," she slapped your shoulder, "you and potter?" dorcas motioned her head towards him, and you looked his way to find him scribbling something down into sirius' book. he looked up just in time to meet your eyes and sent a smile your way. you grinned back and turned to your friend again.

"what about me and him?" you weren't quite sure where she was getting at with whatever the hell this was. she knew your relationship with james was platonic with a capital p, simple as that. she laughed in your face.

"dorcas! don't be ridiculous, he's only my friend." you leaned back in your seat, profusely blushing and crossing your arms over your chest. everybody knew that you and james were just friends. nothing more.

"i think you better tell him that." lily turned in her seat to face to you. mary, who was sitting next to her, only nodded her head which confirmed that she wasn't on your side either. and neither was marlene who looked rather amused observing you from the table next to yours. of course she wasn't, the fact that she fancied dorcas was more obvious than she thought.

"oh, please. he even calls himself my best friend, you lot are delusional."

"fuck, y/n, you're hopeless." dorcas groaned, exchanging some disappointed glances with the gryffindor girls. she let her head fall down onto the table in frustration. you scoffed, averting your eyes to james and keeping them there for a while.

that was how the rest of your fifth year went; you and james being friendly, him asking you to accompany him on some stupid adventures he often came up with, you playing hard to get, but agreeing to hang out in the end. all of that would usually be followed by dorcas'... and pandora's... and lily's... and pretty much everybody's pointless attempts to talk some sense into your head. you would brush them off, saying he's just a nice bloke who's nobody but just a good pal of yours. you even said it to sirius.

and all of you knew that wasn't true.

***

soon enough, you began your sixth year and james was starting to lose his mind. he was so in love with you, he could barely keep a calm act around you. hiding it became a lot more difficult. he was convinced that you thought he was over you, because why on earth would somebody still be friends with a person who rejected them and showed zero interest in a romantic relationship? he felt miserable. he wanted you by his side, but just friendship wasn't enough to ease the ache in his heart. one thing was for sure, and that was that he had to talk to you.

he needed to let you know that he still loved you, and pour out all of his feelings if it was necessary. he thought that if you rejected him again, he would drop the whole thing and really, truly settle for just being friends, and that is, if you end up wanting anything to do with him. it would be difficult, getting over you. it would hurt, coming to terms with it all would be an absolute nightmare. he would be heartbroken without a doubt, but he believed he could manage it if he tried hard enough. lies.

very conveniently, you and james got into a bit of trouble that day. that was a well-known concept to you both. neither of you completed your major muggle studies essay on time, hell, you hadn't even started with yours, so you decided to do the only rational thing. which was to ditch the class.

it was nerve-wracking, sneaking through the corridors and trying to avoid getting caught by mrs. norris, or filch, maybe even by a professor, but you managed to make it to the grand staircase. you thought you were going to succeed, you were so close, but surprise, surprise - you were caught by bloody dumbledore himself. instead of cooperating, you tried to make a run for it and hide in a broomstick closet, just in time for filch to catch you.

task failed successfully.

you weren't sure how you managed to dodge getting forbidden from going to hogsmeade or even leaving the school premise, as that was the punishment you both expected to get for running away from the headmaster, but you were more than grateful that the man settled for simply giving you detention.

"do you fancy going for a walk by the lake tonight?" you questioned when you finished cleaning the floor of the potions classroom after your poor attempt at skipping muggle studies.

"what?" james mumbled incoherently, bending over to pick up some crumpled up parchment under one of the seats.

"that was a yes or no question." you crossed your arms. you weren't sure where you were getting all of the confidence from, but you settled for blaming in on james and his self-assuring personality which had quite the influence on you, even though you willingly began spending a little too much time with him. you cursed mentally.

"wait, huh?" he stopped what he was doing, looking rather confused.

"was i not clear enough?" you rolled your eyes in a teasing manner.

"you're asking me to hang out?" his entire face lit up, a hopeful smile found its way to his lips. "yeah, silly, that's what friends do," you scoffed, though you were slightly crumbling on the inside, "so don't you dare treat it as a date." you quickly added, fixing your stance and straighteing your back to come off more relaxed. regardless of your shitty attempt at trying to pretend you were disinterested in him, james looked like he just won the lottery.

"of course." he scrambled to clean up the rest of the mess under the seats as fast as possible. he could not believe you. it truly seemed like he the odds were in his favour that day. just when he was planning on giving up and destroying everything, that simple question restored all the hope he had lost. that was the first time you asked him to hang out. it was usually him initiating everything. you quietly giggled at his overjoyed reaction, and a strange feeling washed over you. you ignored it, all of it, and settled for avoiding his gaze as much as you could for the last thirty minutes of detention.

eight o'clock rolled around so fast you could barely keep track of it. you were in a state of disarray - nervous, panicking and desperately trying to come up with some excuse you haven't used to brush james off before just so that you didn't have to show up. but that would be stupid, wouldn't it? you were the one who wanted to hang out. dorcas, evan, barty, regulus and even pandora were laughing at you, showing no signs of wanting to help you and refusing to give you any form of emotional support whatsoever.

"what great friends you are." you remarked sarcastically, pulling the first jumper you saw in your trunk over your head.

"isn't that his?" barty smirked devilishly, scanning the clothing item with his eyes. you furrowed your eyebrows, looking down just to see that the gryffindor jumper you put on did not in fact belong to you. your eyes went wide. all five of your friends convulsed with laughter when you scrambled to take it off. evan fell off of dorcas' bed right onto the hard floorboards.

"i don't know how it got here, but i swear it's not what you think!" regulus was clutching his stomach after joining evan on the floor, and you threw the jumper right in his face. pandora wiped some tears away with the sleeve of her shirt and then quietly chuckled again as she was trying to stop any more tears from coming.

"i will strangle you all, i'm not joking." you lifted your hands up in frustration, stomping back to your trunk and this time taking a shirt you were sure was yours.

"oh, c'mon, we're only teasing you," dorcas stood up, walking over to where you were and hugging you from behind, "i'm sure the laundry got mixed up." barty trailed off, and you could see him holding back a grin.

"right, but," dorcas pulled away from you and began walking backwards towards the door, "it would be quite romantic if you kept it after a nice shag, wouldn't it?"

"dorcas!" you screeched, and she was out of your reach before you even made it halfway towards the door. your friends burst into giggles again, or what was left of them, as evan and regulus were half-dead. you were a blushing mess, and you left your room resembling an angry child who was moments away from throwing a tantrum, but not without james' quidditch jumper in your hands.

you didn't notice the strange looks you were given by the students you passed by in the dungeons. you looked furious, with your jaw clenched and your face beet red, all while holding onto something which belonged to a certain dark-haired gryffindor. your thoughts did not seem to go in that direction even once. you could think of nothing but james.

the mere thought of him made you feel strange. it was a feeling that wasn't too familiar to you, but you had quite clear of an idea of what it could be and it was devouring you. simply looking at him made you feel giddy. his smile would make your heart jump. the light brush of his shoulder against yours would make you shiver. you were in love. but boy were you stubborn.

"who hurt you?" you stopped in your tracks when you heard james' voice come from behind you. you met his warm gaze. there it was, that flutter in your heart again. you blamed his smile for it. you almost cringed at yourself, you were so preoccupied by thinking of him that you failed to acknowledge his actual presence.

was he always that attractive? his eyes are so pretty. how's his skin that perfect? god, his lips look-

your swallowed harshly, feeling heat rush to your cheeks and the handsome boy standing in front of you gave you a questioning look. you cleared your throat before handing him his jumper.

"i found this in my trunk." you looked down in embarrassment, crossing your arms and fiddling with a loose thread on the sleeve of your shirt.

"oh!" he took it from your hands, his jaw fell slack, "how did that - there must've been mix up with the laundry."

"probably." you replied dryly, avoiding his gaze. "won't you be cold?" he questioned when he noticed how light the shirt you had on looked. the sleeves reached your elbows, the material was almost see through and certainly not suitable for chilly autumn weather.

"i'll manage." you shrugged lazily, looking down at the floor. those old tiles seemed rather amusing all of a sudden.

"put it on." you lifted your head. you looked at the clothing item, then at james. you sighed and reached for the soft material. "thanks," you mumbled under your breath, holding the jumper close to your chest in a tightening grip, "should we go now? or are we just gonna stand here like idiots?" you put on a smile, hoping it would look convincing enough and hide the embarrassing fact that you were nervous. really nervous. first date nervous. you may have had to remind yourself that that little hangout of yours was supposed to platonic. friendly. not romantic. definitely not a date with that boy who's life goal was to win you over because he was desperately in love with you. and he fucking succeeded.

you lost track of time. neither of you knew how many hours had passed or how long you'd been sitting at the shore, lost in conversations about something that may seem so irrelevant to the ears of others, but so important to the two of you. you found comfort in being able to open up to james. it was different than talking to dorcas, or evan, or any of your other friends. it warmed your heart, and in a strange way, it felt like home.

you only realised how late it had gotten when the sky above you turned dark and became covered with stars. finishing that date off with stargazing would have been a delight, but rain decided to make an unexpected visit and ruined your good plans.

you retreated inside together through one of the passageways james and the other three marauders managed to discover, tippy toeing your way through the corridors in attempt to go unseen and unheard. you successfully made it through the portrait hole without alerting a prefect, and you stepped through the door of james' room, sighing in relief. james could finally release the breath he was holding all the way down from the lake. that was one of the rare times he didn't fail at sneaking around without his cloak. you celebrated a tad bit too soon, though - the high pitched voice of a seventh year girl who was supposed to keep the peace at night came from behind you, and you froze in your spot. james gulped, making eye contact with you before turning to face her.

"potter, what on earth are you doing outside at this hour?" james laughed uncomfortably, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his hoodie as he tried to come up with an excuse, "i was uh," he let out a cough, making the prefect eye him suspiciously, "i was using the bathroom."

"why aren't you wearing your pyjamas?"

"i was busy doing, uhm, something else, y'know, forgot to change and stuff."

"and what is that thing that you were doing, exactly?"

"i don't really think you'd wanna know." he grinned in misery, and you had to slap your hand over your mouth to stop yourself from making any sounds. the girl's eyes widened as she realised what the younger meant. she turned beet red and massaged her temples in frustration.

"merlin's beard, oh, fuck– shit! get out of my sight, we'll pretend this never happened. shoo, leave."

"sorry." he gave her one last awkward smile before sliding into his room, slamming the door shut and leaning against it. "remind me not to do that ever again."

"why not? that was pretty hilarious." you snickered at his demeanor - the boy's cheeks were flushed red from embarrassment.

"that poor girl probably thinks i was wanking in there." he groaned, waddled away from the door and slumped down onto his bed. the springs in the mattress squeaked from the impact. "if i don't get kicked out this year, then i must be a walking felix fucking felicis." he continued rambling as he began digging through the mess under his bed.

"where are your friends?" you looked around the room curiously. the other marauders were nowhere to be seen. "they're sleeping in the girls dormitory tonight."

you hummed as you took a seat on the floor beside him and eyed some of the items he had scattered around. a couple of chocolate frogs, some crumpled pieces of parchment and quills, a few records, and an empty bag of whatever the hell he got at zonko's next to a small stack of books. "so, what do we do now?" you looked his way, and he shrugged as he ducked under his bed, with only his legs peeking out. the action drew a snort from you. he dusted himself off as he dove back from under the bed.

"can you help me out?" he scratched the back of his head.

"what are we looking for here, exactly?" you questioned as you peeked underneath. "no clue. i'm trying to find something fun we can do."

"have you still got that book about jinxes?" james blinked in surprise. "with the ones i offered to teach you, what, like four years ago?" he gave you an amused smile.

"yeah, figured i should make up for breaking your heart or whatever." and definitely not because you realised that it was a perfect date idea. definitely not.

"i might, if sirius hasn't snatched it." he shrugged and then you both started digging through the dark and dusty mess of books, boxes and smelly socks.

"is this," your hand grabbed onto something which felt like a glass bottle, "muggle alcohol?!" you laughed at the way james' face went pale.

"i swear that's not mine!" he immediately defended himself, reaching for the bottle desperately.

"no need to lie, potter, i've a fair share of that stashed under my bed as well."

by two in the morning, both of you were absolutely pissed, but had no intention of stopping until the bottle was completely empty. so much for the jinxes.

"have you ever shagged somebody?" it was strange. the alcohol seemed to have effects similar to what was known as the veritaserum. so apart from the constant laughing fits it gave you, it made you both feel rather confident. so confident you kept spilling out truths and secrets not even your friends knew. and, well, it made you flirty. especially yourself. just a few hours ago, you were freaked out by the mere thought of getting involved romantically with the boy in front of you, but now you were shamelessly asking each other questions about your love lives. not to mention that you managed to lose your clothes in the process. james was shirtless, and you lost your trousers.

"how dare you ask me such a question?" james gasped dramatically, drawing a snort from you, "i reckon your body count is higher than mine."

"are you calling me a slut, potter?" you asked in amusement, he shrugged lazily with a smirk on his lips, "no, i'm calling you more attractive than myself."

"why thank you, my dear friend," you smiled, feeling another surge of confidence shoot through you after receiving the drunken compliment. friend. that word suddenly sounded strange.

"i haven't." james finally spoke after a few moments of silence. that little soberity you had left was what held you back from smiling.

"me neither." james bit his tongue. he felt like he could breathe normally, at last. you were relieved, and so was he.

"virgins." he let himself fall back onto the floor. you scoffed, snatching the bottle out of his hand.

by the time the sun had started to rise, you were fast asleep - james sitting down with his back up against the wall, and you on the floor with his jumper posing as your pillow. james was lucky that lily and the girls agreed to take in his three idiot friends that night because he would have had to deal with endless teasing if they had been present.

the sound of a loud knock on the door shook you both awake, and your head was met with the bottom of sirius' bed when you tried to sit up. you groaned out in pain, letting your head fall down onto the red jumper that smelled of that specific vanilla-scented bodywash only james used. you hated how you loved it.

"potter!" dorcas' voice pierced through the door from the other side, and the boy groggily sat up, making his way over to the door. the hangover headache was unbearable, but it was something he could have expected as an aftermath of last night's turn of events. the whiskey bottle lied empty on the floor. he wasn't sure how either of you managed it, but he woke up to a clean floor, and no stomach-turning stench of vomit.

"you knocked?" he leaned against the doorframe, his vision a bit blurry as he barely had time to think or grab his glasses after being woken up so suddenly.

"have you by any chance seen y/n?"

he wordlessly opened the door wider, and a very exhausted, hungover looking creature came into dorcas' view.

"what's this?" dorcas smirked, resting her hands on her hips.

"uh, a friendly hangout? what else? wait, where are my trousers?" you murmured, not quite sure of what you were stating as your brain hadn't woken up properly just yet. the piercingly painful headache was not helping.

"friendly, huh?" she eyed you both with a hint of mischief in her eyes. "yes, friendly." james confirmed.

dorcas sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose with her pointer finger and thumb. she felt a migrane incoming. you tiredly stood up from the cold floor, feeling a wave of pain shoot through your back from lying on such a hard surface. "goddammit, remind me to sleep on the bed next time." you winced, stretching in attempt to soothe the pain.

dorcas left, with marlene trailing along with her (to nobody's surprise), after you and james decided to head down to the kitchen to ask the house elves for some leftovers from breakfast since you missed it. you were lucky that the elves loved you both, and you were given a few pieces of toast as well as some strawberry jam.

you sat in the gryffindor common room, quietly chatting with james. mary and remus joined you and they took their seats in the chairs in the corner of the room, along with sirius who claimed that sitting in between remus' legs was more comfortable than any armchair. you and james, however, were squashed together on the sofa. you recieved several questioning looks from other students. not necessarily because you were a slytherin in the gryffindor common room, but because you sat so close to one another. you were practically sitting in his lap. someone unaware of the status of your relationship would have assumed you were dating. james' friends noticed too, but decided not to say anything, though they couldn't hide those proud smiles that found their ways to their lips.

***

you could not stop thinking about that night for days. and you did everything you could to forget about it. you drowned yourself in school work just to wipe the thought of it out of your mind. hell, you did extra credit. you even bullied pandora into being a model for your paintings for two weeks straight, and went as far as to make yourself accompany barty on his daily adventures where he was essentially begging for detention. but nothing was helping. that was the best date of your life. not like you had many to chose from, but it was the best. shit.

"oh, for fuck's sake! it was not a date! shut up!" you said to yourself, or to be more specific, your malfunctioning brain. you were speed-walking through the corridors, your breath uneven and cheeks red.

you came back from the gryffindor dormitories to the dungeons after another friendly hangout with james. all those things you did to forget about the first one ended up seeming rather pointless. much to your dismay, you realised you can't go too long without seeing him, as it turned out. the boy successfully found his way into your heart after all those years. and you didn't even know why. well, him being james potter should be enough of an explanation. you were visibly flushed. dorcas raised both of her eyebrows once she saw you and then fell back into her pillow, shaking with laughter.

"oh merlin, you are so red." she pointed at your face, giggling uncontrollably.

"great observation skills, meadowes." you responded sarcastically, pulling james' jumper over your head and tossing it onto your bed. yes, you forgot (read: didn't want) to return it, and no, he didn't mind because he wanted you to have it.

"where's everyone?" you quickly changed the subject. you were not ready to talk about whatever the hell your relationship with james was at that moment. you were pretty sure you wouldn't ever be ready to talk about it.

"well, regulus is probably throwing snape into the lake. again. barty and evan are surely snogging somewhere and i think pandora went for a poo, but i'm not sure." dorcas shrugged. her eyes didn't leave you, which obviously meant she was curious about what happened while you were gone. of course she was, she was one of your best friends after all. one of them, just like james. she may have got strange thrills from teasing you, but she cared about you and she made sure you knew that. so did the rest of your friends, even though they were all out and about in that given moment.

you sighed, covering your face with your hands. you felt guilty - not because you were in love with james, hell no, but because it took you so long to admit it to yourself. you never once thought of his feelings or what you've been putting him through for all those years. the first time you felt a bit different while he was by your side, you chalked it up to some weird feelings of admiration and tried to forget about it. but then it just kept happening, and you couldn't simply brush it off and pretend it's nothing. you weren't even sure why you kept lying to yourself; maybe it was because you were so set on the two of you being just friends, maybe it was because you got so used to his presence and his embarassingly obvious eagerness that you couldn't imagine living your life without all of that in it.

tears welled up in your eyes, and you bit the inside of your cheek to prevent any sounds from escaping. dorcas was not as oblivious as you thought she might be. she could immediately tell something was wrong and she rushed over to your side, wrapping her arms around you until you were comfortable enough to speak.

"dorcas, i'm in love with him," you cried, clutching her shirt as she held you close to her chest. "i know, darling." she sighed.

"i'm such a bloody idiot."

"i would usually say that's not true, but i don't really think i'd be doing either of us a favour if i denied it." that drew a laugh from you, but you quickly returned to your messy state. dorcas kept rubbing comforting circles into your back until your shoulders stopped shaking and you were able to speak properly without breaking out into tears again.

"am i an awful person?" you quiered, staring into what seemed like a void to you. you looked lifeless, and dorcas sighed, putting her hand on your knee.

"y/n, we both know you aren't. and james knows that too."

"but what if i am? dorcas, i hurt him. i treated him like a puppet and i never took his feelings seriously."

"well, i can't argue that," she bit the inside of her cheek, "but you know, you couldn't have exactly done much about it. you can't just force yourself to love somebody. and some people take a while to come to terms with their feelings, and that's okay, so don't you dare blame yourself for that. he's still in love with you, anyway."

"i could have just not befriended him." you picked at your nails as you spoke.

"that wouldn't have helped him much, would it?"

"it wouldn't make him feel as miserable."

"maybe, but you'd break his heart either way and the poor bloke would probably still feel the same. look, he was annoying as shit, and you may have been a bit, well–"

"evil?" you interrupted. she covered your mouth with her hand. you blinked in surprise and she laughed at you.

"alright, yeah, but y/n, don't you think you could fix that now? you know, do something about it at last?"

"don't make me make you, 'cause you might be the next person to get dunked into the lake. i'm feeling particularly ruthless today." regulus suddenly appeared at the door, leaning against it with his arms crossed.

"how long have you been standing there?" you spoke once dorcas retrieved her hand.

"just got here, actually."

"as i was saying," dorcas raised her voice and then put a finger over her mouth to motion for regulus to shut up. he raised his hands up in defeat, "do what you need to do."

"you know what's tomorrow though, right?" regulus interrupted once again. you and dorcas exchanged confused glances, but her face shifted into something that seemed more amused than questioning.

***

"oi, potter!" you pushed open the door of the great hall. the laughter around james faded away and everybody's focus was now shifted to you standing at the entrance, but you were looking for one person's eyes in particular.

it didn't take you very long to find them. james' surprised gaze met your rather nervous one, and you made your way towards the gryffindor table, just like he skipped over to the slytherin one four years ago.

you slid into the empty spot next to him and smiled while you were waiting for him to say something. just like last time, you failed to notice the way all of the students around you chuckled as they watched the show unfold. all because of you and james, yet again.

"hello." he sat up straight, holding back a smile that wanted to make its way to his lips.

despite being friends for all those years, you never once had the chance to sit next to each other at lunch, other than that one particular day in your second year. so he took the sudden change in your behaviour as a good sign, especially after the events of the previous night, and the night at the lake.

"can i ask you something?" you leaned forward on the table with your hand supporting your chin. james furrowed his eyebrows in confusion, and then his mouth fell open in surprise. he laughed breathlessly, shaking his head at your teasing smile.

"go ahead." he shrugged. his eyes haven't left you since you entered the great hall. it was not making your job easier, but you weren't gonna let that pretty face of his stop you from doing what you came to do.

"wanna be my boyfriend?" you smiled stupidly and it was followed by hollering and wooing from all of the students at the table, including his friends, and your own from behind you, "okay, now sn–" barty was shut up by evan's hand clamping over his mouth before he could finish that. pandora was violently blowing her nose into a tissue already. regulus seemed unphased, even though he wasn't. and dorcas looked like she finally discovered the true meaning of inner peace.

james did a double-take, and then grinned like an absolute idiot. you were furiously tapping your foot against the tiles, but froze when he cupped your cheek with his hand.

"can i kiss you?" you nodded, biting your lip to hold back the squeal that was threatening to escape. james was glowing. he grinned, launching himself forward. his lips finally met yours. your hand instinctively found its way to the back of his neck, pushing him further against you. his lips were so soft, and he kissed you like you were the most precious thing in the world. you could feel each other smiling into the kiss, and you broke apart giggling like two fools.

"is that a yes?" you quiered, just in case.

"oh god, yes." then he kissed you again, only to be pulled back by sirius who had just about enough of the pair of you, "some of us are trying to eat, thank you very much."

"sod off." james smacked the back of his head. he could not care less about what anybody else thought at that moment. sirius shook his head as he exchanged a knowing glance with his own lover, and neither of the boys could be bothered to hide their smiles.

"i wanted to do that for six years." james leaned his forehead against yours. you quickly pecked his lips again. "don't worry, i'll make it up to you."

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clubforfrogs · 22 days

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Something That Will Last (James Potter x Reader)

Heyyy so it’s been over a week… whoopsie. This fic took so incredibly long for no reason. Send in requests if you got em!

Kind of an enemies to lovers type beat, except the reader just hates James at first.

3.7K words - enjoy!

•

You moved swiftly down the halls of Hogwarts, your robes catching air behind you. You walked quickly, with purpose, and watched with satisfaction as scared first years scrambled to get out of your way. Now, you weren’t actually angry, in fact, you were in a great mood. But you had built up a bit of a reputation for yourself during your time at Hogwarts. You were a terrifying Slytherin, who chose to not align herself with anyone.

Everyone had receive your message: Stay away from me and I’ll leave you alone. If not, watch out. Well, almost everyone. The only exception? James fucking Potter. He was the only person who seemed to find your taunts empty, funny even.

James delighted in pushing your buttons and winding you up. It started in your second year when Slytherin and Gryffindor had potions together. He’d taunt you by shouting borderline declarations of love at you. It was disgusting, and you’ve loathed him ever since. It also seemed as though the universe loathed you, because James was in almost every single one of your classes. The only peace in your day was Muggle Studies. Absolutely boring class, but there was no James Potter making snide or flirtatious comments in your ear, so it became your favorite.

You were daydreaming about that very class as you walked into History of Magic. You took your usual seat in the back of the class, and James smiled widely at you as he took his usual seat right in front of you. You rolled your eyes as you took an inkwell and parchment from your bag, preparing to ignore him and focus on your notes for the rest of class. That’s when the professor decided to announce something that made your heart sink, “Alright students, we’re going to be partnering up for a project. Choose carefully, this will be a significant part of your grade.”

You quickly turned to look at Remus Lupin. Although he was associated with James, he was kind and smart, and your go-to partner. At least he was. You saw Remus already buddied up with Sirius. Both boys shot you a satisfied look, and you saw James waltz up to you, “Seems like we’re the only two not partnered up yet, a dazzling coincidence if I ever did see one.” You realized that Sirius and Remus definitely set the both of you up for this, or more likely, James told them to do this. You mouthed the words, traitors to the boys across the room, and they shrugged innocently and looked away to get started.

You rolled your eyes and sat back down at your desk. James sat in the seat next to you happily. “Sooo, partner, how do you want to do this thing?” You gave James an annoyed look, “I think we’re going to have to wait and figure that out after the professor explains what this project is about.”

James’ happy look didn’t falter, instead, his eyes brightened, “Right you are! Wow, I’m so lucky to have the most brilliant partner!” You rolled your eyes so hard you were sure they were going to come rolling out of your head, “Stop taking the piss, Potter.” You turned back the front of the classroom where the professor had started to explain your project. Each pair was going to be assigned an important magical figure from one of the lessons you had learned previously. Then, you would have to make a presentation about their life, and explain their contributions to magic. You and James were assigned Godric Gryffindor himself, much to your chagrin.

“Ridiculous. I can’t believe I’m going to be stuck with you for who knows how long, learning all about a guy that built a house full of James Potters.” You complained. “Oh don’t pretend you don’t love this. I know I do.” Instead of replying to his jokes anymore, you decided that the most painless way of getting through this project would be putting your head down and getting the work done. “I’ll start researching into his life from birth into early adulthood. You go from adulthood to death. Got it? Good.” James looked a bit stunned at your sudden change in attitude and pouted at you. “Alright, meet in the library at 7:00 tonight. We’ll get more done if we work together.” Before you could argue at his illogical and utterly idiotic words, the bell rung. He shoved all his belongings into his bag haphazardly and shouted as he left the room, “It’s a date!”

Walking to the library, you did realize that you had the choice not to go. You almost turned around and walked back to the Slytherin common room, but you decided that remaining somewhat civil with James would go a long way for this project. You spotted James not long after entering the library, sitting at a table and scribbling hurriedly in a book. You wondered briefly what he was writing, but then decided you didn’t care. You could have no distractions while working on this project; everything had to be done promptly. This would assure that the least amount of time possible was spent with James.

James didn’t notice you until you sat down next to him. He looked up from his book at you with his usual enthusiasm, “Ah, I was wondering when my beautiful little ball of sunshine would join me!” You glared at him, “Fuck off, Potter.” Well, there goes your civility, not a great start. Either way, your words did nothing to deter him, in fact, he seemed to like this “game” the two of you were playing, “Poetic as always, my dear.”

You scoffed and opened a book about the history of Hogwarts that you’d bought in your second year. It had plenty of information about all the house founders, perfect for this project. James had also seemingly found a book to gather his information from. The two of you worked silently for a bit, until the hushed voice of Sirius spoke from behind, “James! We’ve been looking all over for you!” You jumped in your seat, nearly falling over. James reached out and grabbed your waist, effectively stopping your descent. You felt yourself flush when James kept his hand around your waist as he spoke to Sirius.

Apparently, the marauders were supposed to go out and pull some stupid prank that night, and James had forgotten. You honestly weren’t paying much attention. Instead exchanging a desperate look with Remus, who glanced back at you amusedly due to your situation. You tuned back in when you heard Sirius say your name, “You don’t mind if we steal James, do you Y/n?”

You definitely weren’t going to object to that, “By all means, take him. Just make sure he starts on our project tonight.” James looked at you with a pout, then turned to Sirius, “She clearly doesn’t mean that. She’ll be devastated to be left here alone!” Sirius rolled his eyes and was about to respond, when Remus spoke up, “You know Pads, working on our project as well wouldn’t be the worst idea. What if we joined these two?”

James and Sirius made various sounds of dismay, as you excitedly squealed, “Yes! Study date!” James looked scandalized by your proclamation. “Oh, so NOW it’s a study date? You adamantly refused to say it earlier, but now that Padfoot and Moony are here…”

It was almost comical how the roles reversed as James (sort of) fake pouted, and you beamed at him, “Exactly, my two favorite people are here now, Sirius and Remus!”

That made James cross his arms and look squarely away from you. Sirius let out a laugh and cooed at James, “Aw cmon James, I’m sure she didn’t mean it.” The aforementioned boy looked at you with a coy look of hope in his eyes. You scoffed, but before you could say anything, Remus pinched your arm. “Be nice,” he warned. You scoffed, rubbing your arm, “I’m always nice, dickhead.”

You turned back to your book, hoping to get some real work done. Remus seemed to get the hint, but you couldn’t say the same for the other two boys. James and Sirius luckily only seemed to want to annoy each other. Shoving each other randomly than looking away as if you or Remus had done it was their go-to move. After the tenth time they’d done it, you looked up at the two of them, gave them your hardest glare, then pointed towards two books. The two of them looked terrified, and quickly picked up their respective books.

Much to your astonishment, they didn’t immediately go back to their tomfoolery. You had actually gotten a decent amount of work down the next time you heard James speak. “Y/nnn,” James groaned, dragging out the last syllable of your name. You glanced up at him, which he took as a sigh to keep taking. “Why don’t we call it a night? It’s Friday, and Gryffindor’s got a great party planned. Why don’t you come with us?”

The invitation caught you off guard- you had never really enjoyed the party seen, and to be honest, this seemed like a pity invite. “Oh I’m alright, I’ll just keep working on our project.” You said dismissively, expecting that to be the end of it. Instead, you were met with Sirius and Remus on either side of you, both whining out, “Pleaseeeee.” You looked back and forth at them while raising an eyebrow at their behavior. “I’ve got a lot of work left to finish, besides you guys will still have a great time without me.”

You finally turned your back to them, but didn’t hear any footsteps walking away. As you turned to investigate why this was, a strong set of arms lifted you up and slung you on their shoulder. “James Potter put me down this instant!” you whisper-yelled. Sirius and Remus giggled at the two of you like school girls. You sent them a withering glare, but their laughter only increase in volume.

Once James exited the library into the empty hall, you pounded on his back, “You big oaf, put me down!” He did nothing but keep walking calmly, as if he had no care in the world. “No can do, darling. You never come to our parties, and you’re practically working yourself to death!” You rolled your eyes, only James Potter would consider finishing an assignment a near-death experience. He continued, “You’re coming for a night out with the Gryffindors, and you’re going to have an amazing time.” His tone of voice was surprisingly firm.

The longer that James had you over his shoulder, the more you appreciated your situation. You had an amazing view of his… assets, and you could feel his hands on your thighs, though he was low enough to be respectful. Sirius had apparently noticed your wondering gaze, and snapped playfully, “Oi! Keep your eyes up. Prongs isn’t just a piece of meat for you to lick your chops at!” You snapped your eyes up after getting caught. You felt James’ shoulders shake as he chuckled, “I don’t mind, I know what I got going on back there.” His sheer confidence made you blush madly, and you said nothing. Luckily, the Gryffindor common room was now in sight. James set you down as you reached the portrait, and you half considered making a break for the Slytherin common room. Unfortunately for you, Sirius and Remus blocked your way and smiled innocently as you grumbled and crawled through the portrait.

You were quickly ushered up to the boys’ dorm, where Sirius sat you down on his bed and started throwing various items of clothing at you. “Sirius what the hell-“ your protest was cut short by a shirt being thrown at you, thus covering your head. You peeled the shirt off and heard the stifled laughter of James and Remus. Sirius chose not to acknowledge your displeasure, and instead started holding up various shirts, as if trying to picture you in each one. “Ok Sirius, what are you doing?” The boy just tutted at you. “Just let him do his thing,” Remus said from his own bed, where he sat with James. You grumbled , not wanting to be left out of the loop, but soon Sirius threw a few clothing items at you. He pushed you toward the bathroom while saying, “Go now, put that on and show me my genius.”

You gave him an almost worried look, but chose to appease him and change. Sirius had given you an old pair of jeans (presumably his) and a cropped t shirt of some muggle band. You looked at your self in the mirror, and were shocked at how flattering the outfit was. It was definitely simple, but the combination just worked. You walked out of the bathroom and spun around once. You were met with a chorus of praise from the boys. A grin spread out on your face as Sirius commented, “Oh Merlin have mercy, I’ve done it again!”

James let out a quiet “Wow,” that made your heart flutter in your chest. That confused you. You had never liked James, he had always been a nuisance to you. Yeah, that’s all he was. Nothing more, nothing less. You chose to focus on Sirius who was wiping away fake tears, “Sometimes I just can’t believe my own genius.” You pushed him playfully and rolled your eyes. “Yeah, yeah. When is this party starting. I need firewhiskey stat.”

Remus wordlessly handed you a flask, and you shrugged, taking a generous sip. It was James who answered your question, “The party should be in full swing now, but I think Remus and Sirius still need to get ready. I can take you down if you’d like.” Sirius looked as if he was about to butt in and complain about the falsities of James’ statement, but Remus put a hand on his shoulder, “Yeah we’ll be down in a bit.”

You gave them a questioning look, butsighed and looked at James. “Yeah I suppose that will work.” James looked thrilled, and offered you his arm, “M’lady.” You couldn’t help but grin at his antics. You took his arm and replied in the same posh accent he had put on, “What a gentleman!” As the two of you made your way down the stairs, you realized that maybe your disliking for James had been a bit unfair.

Yes, he was annoying. But he was also really sweet, and funny, and you couldn’t deny that he was gorgeous. You decided right then and there that maybe you’d start giving him a bit easier of a time. The music got louder and louder as reached the main common area. It was already full of students from various houses. They were all either drinking, dancing, or talking. A new song came on, and you gasped, looking at James.

“Holy shit I love this song!” You dragged James by his arm to this dance floor, failing to notice the deep red hue of his cheeks.

You started twirling and moving your body with the music. James did the same. Your exaggerated movements garnered a bit of attention, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to care. James grabbed your hand and spun you, before dipping you low. You giggled and blushed a bright pink. He smirked at you as he picked you back up with ease and continued dancing. This went on for a few more songs, until you noticed Remus and Sirius walking down the stairs. The pair of you walked off of the dance floor, and waved them over to where you stood.

“Moony! Padfoot! Over here!” James called. Remus spotted you two first with his higher vantage point, and made his way over, Sirius trailing slightly behind. Once they reached you, you spoke, “None of you lot told me how good of a dancer James is.” James blushed and pushed you gently, “Oh sod off, now you’re just making fun of me.” You looked up at him with genuine eyes, “No I’m not! Do you know how many guys would have been afraid of looking silly while dancing with a girl? You didn’t care and it made everything so much more fun!” A smile spread across his face, he looked as if he was going to say something, but Sirius got to it first, “Oh! A game of truth or dare is starting, let’s go join!”

All four of you walked over and joined the small circle. Already in it were Barty, Lilly, Mary, Marlene, Dorcas, and Regulus. You knew all of them from various classes, and they already seemed well acquainted with the marauders. You walked over to Barty whom you were partnered with in Herbology. “Hey! Can we join?” Barty smiled up at you and gestured for you to sit next to him, “C’mere N/n! There’s always room for a few more.” James also walked over and sat on the opposite side of the circle.

The game started pretty mellow. Sirius dared Lilly to dance with a random fourth year, Remus made Marlene recount the harrowing tale of her first kiss, and innocent things such as that. Evan had just gotten done listing his too three people he’d want to date at Hogwarts (Sirius was offended he didn’t make the list), but then he turned his sights to you. “L/n! You haven’t been asked yet, so: truth or dare?” You considered playing it safe, but that seemed far too boring. So you made direct eye contact with Barty as you said, “Dare.”

There was a chorus of “oohs” heard from around the circle as Barty thought about what to say. He pondered for a moment before smirking at you. You felt a little nervous, knowing that the boy had about zero shame. “Kiss the person you find most attractive in this circle.” You wanted to scream. Daring someone to kiss someone else? It was so cliche. But, you didn’t want to be that person, the one who ruins the game for everyone else. You took a deep breath, and looked straight at James.

James’ expression was confused. He didn’t want to get excited, think that you were looking at him because you were going to kiss him, and then becoming heartbroken as you kissed Sirius or something. He held his breath as you slowly got up and walked in his direction. You got closer and closer, while James tuned everyone out but you. You eventually stopped right in front of him, and leaned down. James’ heart was pounding in his chest, and yours was doing the same.

You started to close the distance between the two of you, but James decided he couldn’t wait even a fraction of a second longer. His lips surged to meet yours. You let out a surprised sound, but wrapped your arms around his neck and deepened the kiss. There was the faintest taste of alcohol of his lips, and you were desperate to taste more. The kiss definitely lasted longer than would be appropriate for a game of truth or dare, but that didn’t bother you. Not right now, not when the lips of James Potter were all over yours.

The two of you would have been content staying that way for the entire night, but a loud cough brought you back to reality. You pulled back, with a sheepish look, and saw that everyone else in the circle was grinning wildly. You started to get up, but James gently pulled you down and sat you next to him. Remus leaned into you and whispered in your ear, “I gather that you’ve gotten over your little hatred for Prongs then?” You shoved him into Regulus, who looked utterly offended at the action.

The game continued on, and your thoughts were running rampant. Did you just screw up your shaky friendship? James seemed like he was into it, but what if he just didn’t want to embarrass you? A large hand gently placed itself on your thigh. You looked to find James looking ahead, laughing at Sirius having to give Barty a lap dance. (The latter was absolutely loving it, but the same could not be said for the former.) There were only a few more dates before you decided to call it a night. Despite all of the signs he was giving you, you still didn’t want to let yourself believe James might like you back.

You excused yourself from the group, and slowly started to make your way out of the Gryffindor common room. Just as you were about to reach the portrait, a gentle hand came and grabbed hold of your wrist. You were about to slap some sense into whoever thought they could touch you without permission, but you were met with the nervous face of James. “Why did you decide to head out so early? Did I make you uncomfortable? Oh Merlin I did! I’m so sorry. Look I’ll leave the game and you can go back in and join. I really don’t mi-“

“James.” Your interruption made his rambling come to a halt. “You didn’t make me uncomfortable, I’m just a little tired. Parties aren’t really my scene anyways.” You decided to settle on a half lie. James really didn’t make you uncomfortable, but you were leaving because your own head told you he didn’t like you. James somehow seemed to detect that you weren’t telling the whole truth, “You’re lying. Why are you really leaving. Was I that bad of a kisser?”

His fake pout that accompanied his question made you giggle. The tension between the two of you eased slightly, and you decided to just tell him. If he seemed mortified, then you would hop through the portrait and drop out of Hogwarts. That seemed pretty reasonable to you. Before your courage had the chance to disappear, you laid it all out, “James, I really like you, and I really liked the kiss. Probably more than I should have. I don’t expect you to reciprocate this, so I’ll just leave. I can finish our project and everything don’t even wor-“

This time it was James who cut you off. His lips met yours softly, almost hesitant. You once again heard the hooting and hollering of your friends, who definitely hadn’t been watching the two of you since James walked off. You shrugged off all of the worry that had been mounting on your shoulders. He leaned into you more, and let out a slight groan. You smiled into the kiss, before parting. “So I take it you might like me back?” James smiled right back at you, “Yeah maybe just a little.” Your lips met again, and you knew that this could last.

#james potter x reader #marauders x reader #remus lupin x reader #sirius black x reader #marauders x fem!reader #james potter #harry potter #marauders #sirius black #remus lupin #barty crouch jr #regulus black #lily evans #marlene mckinnon #dorcas meadowes #mary macdonald

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perpetuallydaydreaming · 1 year

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aren’t promises meant to be broken?

at 17 sirius promised to always be there for you whenever you need him. now 3 years after your break up, sirius has yet to break this promise.

tags: sirius black x f!reader,, magical nuisances,, exes to friends to lovers,, hurt and comfort,, fluff,, angst,, slytherins + pandora,, no voldy

a/n: took me an embarrassing amount of time to finish but i’m kinda soft for this fic ngl

people never stay friends with their exes. even with the promises of being one when breaking up. most find it, understandably, too awkward to continue any sort of relationship with them.

you would have been one of those people, at least you think so. but certain circumstances have deemed this preference a futile thought.

“i can’t believe you got me here to clean your bathroom.” sirius glared, peeling off the rubber gloves off his hands and slumping down on the breakfast nook.

“someone had to do it.” you shrugged, “it wouldn’t be the first time,” you smiled, vanishing the gloves and cleaning the table too. before placing a plate in front of him filled with sausages, toast and beans.

“that’s the fucked up part! it isn’t even my first time doing this.” he groans, grabbing a fork that you immediately slapped away.

“wash your hands first, you animal.”

he whines a protest but gets up anyway, rubbing his slapped hands as he does so—pouting because he’s dramatic like that.

“aren’t you going to eat with me?” he asks, his back turned to you as he washes his hands.

you were almost going to say yes, out of habit, having done so numerous times before. but remembered belatedly, the date set up by regulus with one of his work colleagues. a proper fit to you, he said. “no, i’m meeting somebody for dinner later.”

he closes the tap, turning to you again. “dinner? with who?”

you clicked your tongue at the dripping mess he’s making on the floor. grabbing paper towels and tossing it to him to wipe it himself. “some bloke from regulus’ work.”

“regulus? another date then?”

you nodded, feeling a bit uncomfortable at the idea of talking about dates your ex’s brother set you up with.

he frowned. going back to the table and grabbing the fork to start eating the warm food. “i see,”

and that was, thankfully, the end of that.

you didn’t really want to delve into your dating life with anyone, much less your ex-boyfriend of all people—no matter how many times he cleans your bathroom. it was already morbidly pathetic, how your friends seem to think you needed help finding someone new and to move on with.

but in your defence, it is rather difficult finding someone who would be okay with your, er, arrangement with your ex.

it is all sirius’ fault, really, but what isn’t? accidentally making a magically-binding promise to you, seems just like the type of thing he would do. and he has.

ever since he made that promise at 17 when you’ve just started dating, sirius has been showing up in your life, ready to help you with anything you need. you thought of this is in a more figurative sense, but no. that was too simple.

instead, whenever you need something. maybe something as simple as scratching your back, to partaking in a monthly bathroom cleaning, sirius would just appear out of thin air into your house, or wherever you need him, and he would be required to do it else he wouldn’t be able to leave.

when you were dating, this was something you both enjoyed, sometimes even looked forward to. using it as an excuse to latch unto each other the whole day. but now, having been spilt for how many years now (3 but who’s counting?) you can imagine how this magic promise has become a nuisance in your everyday life.

you tried resisting it, of course. though the power of will and mental fortitude can only do so much when you can’t reach the top shelves of your kitchen. forget about avoiding your ex, when he can just pop in whenever, wherever, when you get so much as a paper cut. you can see how the novelty of the situation can run its course. so much so, you sort of just learn how to deal with it instead of fighting it.

you’ve learned to use this to your advantage, of course, making him do chores around the house, makes him a great house elf without the moral issues of owning one.

he was also quite reluctant, when you both broke up, but that was to be expected. he had tried moving away to france, thinking the distance might prevent him from showing up. but that only made it difficult to explain to the travel officers how he can exit the country without violating travel wizarding laws.

regardless of the reluctant acceptance of such peculiar arrangement, you still have that hope you can somehow reverse it.

this particular hope always trampled by your friends’ insistence to utilize your situation to your extreme satisfaction.

“i don’t understand why you would want to remove it, to be honest.” dorcas frowned flipping through the pages of magical vows and contracts, vol.2. “i mean if i had someone doing things for me all day long, i certainly wouldn’t complain.”

“are you joking? why would anyone want to stay bound to their ex?”

she looked over to you, tone playfully mocking, but mocking regardless. “you mean an ex who does everything you need him to?”

“well, how would you feel if lily was always around you doing stuff for you?”

“oh please, if lily was bound to me, cleaning my bathroom wouldn’t be the only thing she would be doing.”

you grimace, “spare me the details, i beg of you.”

“so you wouldn’t like it if you and sirius partook… in certain late night activities?” she hummed.

you sputter out scandalized gasps, face feeling gruesomely warm, “don’t be disgusting! i have no intentions of ever doing anything with him and i assume he share the sentiments, a-and it is appalling that you think so—!” you breathed in deep, willing your face to relax and to settle your wild heart. “i don’t need him to be anything other than a reluctant acquaintance.”

pandora laughs from the floor, “not even considering him as a friend? poor sirius.”

you huff, embarrassed and frankly a bit betrayed.

you friends have convinced themselves of sirius’ intentions to be more than what is required of him. pushing you of all people to act upon seducing him using your gods given womanly assets, as pandora had once labelled.

you abruptly stood up from the table, going over to the stove to reheat the water to make more tea. “besides, i am perfectly capable of handling things by myself, thank you very much.”

it’s dorcas who laughs this time, “what do you mean? just last week, he had to bandage your finger for you because you bit your cuticle to blood. you are entirely dependent on him at this point.”

you huff, “i am not. i am a woman capable of attending to my own needs. that was the bind’s requirements of it all, i have to let him do these things or the bond won’t ever let him leave, you know this already.” you groan, rolling your eyes. “my point still stands. i don’t need him, nor will i ever need him. i just want all of this out of my life and in the past, like it should have been.”

“doesn’t he have his own room in this house by now?”

“it’s not his room, it’s a guest room— that he frequently uses. there’s a difference.”

it was pandora munching on peanuts, wholly amused that responded next, “right,” she drawled, “and that’s why he has his clothes folded and tucked away in the closet.”

“oh piss off, the nuisance sometimes happens in the middle of the night. how could i let him go home so late? what kind of host would i be?”

“couldn’t he just go home straight after?” dorcas asks.

“is it a nuisance, still?” pandora asks.

you cross your arms, petulant, “he can, but he chooses not to. and yes, still.” you scoff, “i know you think something filthy is happening but i particularly don’t enjoy his impromptu trespasses, believe me.”

“i don’t know, you two seem to be getting along quite well.”

“me and that useless oaf? are you joking?”

pandora smiled sweetly, “hardly useless now, i hear.”

“and what did you hear?”

“takes care of you quite well, what with dinner invites with the potters and even travelling?”

you turned around, fiddling with the tea cups, hoping to hide your darkening flush. but you know it did nothing, judging by their giggles.

“travelling?” dorcas inquired, interest piqued.

you don’t see her but you can sense her teasing smile.

you have yet to share that tidbit of embarrassing info to her. mainly because you don’t know how to squeeze it in and you don’t know how to even begin.

you did go to the potters for one random dinner. the invite came after sirius had come and helped you arrange your home library. it was just a simple dinner. filled with other people, hardly anything scandalous.

the travelling together was accidental. you were off to travel with bloke #4, as graciously dubbed by sirius (someone regulus had set you up with at the time) off to a romantic getaway for the weekend to a hot spring up the mountains. only to get thirsty halfway through your trip and have sirius show up in your train compartment only in his boxers and fluffy bunny slippers.

there were no other stops in the train. anti apparition wards set up and the floo connection was severed in the hotel to promote exclusivity, sirius had to join in on the activities through his relentless insistence. he had ate and laughed obnoxiously loud - sitting dangerously close to you the entire trip. he had constantly went on a tangent, reminiscing about your past relationship ranging from random dates to the make out spots you’ve frequented together in hogwarts. safe to say that was the last time you’ve heard from bloke #4.

but you could hardly think to be upset about that. you quite… enjoyed yourself.

but you’ll be damned before you admit that to these two vultures.

taking a deep breath, “there was no dinner invites nor travelling. it was—“

“magical nuisance, yes, yes.” pandora waves off.

you roll your eyes again, grabbing the hot kettle to steep the tea. “stop trying to make things—ah! fuck, ow.” you hiss, holding your painfully warm, stinging fingers. you see the tiny boils already appearing on your skin, the piercing pain shooting through your fingers. you squeezed your hand, hoping to elevate some of the pain.

sirius made a quick move to grab your wrists to pull you to the sink. you didn’t even hear him arrive.

“what happened?” he asks, silver eyes looking at you in intense worry. softly holding your hand under the cold running water gliding down your hand. he was standing so close to you you could smell a tiny hint of his soap. you slowly start to relax.

that is before you catch dorcas’ glinting gaze and pandora’s knowing smile. both of which you vehemently ignore, as you stare at your red fingers and his much larger hand on yours.

“i burned my fingers on the kettle.”

“goodness love, you have to be more careful.”

“sorry.” you mumbled, but having no idea why you would even apologize in the first place. still, you feel the heat of your hand spread to your body.

dorcas, having stood up to help you sat back down again, “hello, sirius. right on time as always.” she called, a cetain lilt in her voice you nervously recognized.

“sirius black, what a coincidence.” pandora sing songs, no subtlety whatsoever.

oh, they are just the worst.

he regarded them both in an overly familiar smile (an ex shouldn’t give to his ex’s friends) and in a light teasing tone as he says “good evening, ladies. why do i get the feeling like you’ve been gossiping about me?”

“you might have been mentioned once or twice.” pandora shrugged.

sirius softly laughs, the sound barely heard over the sink, before he stares at your fingers again, rubbing his thumb over the sensitive skin. before looking at you with a teasing smirk to which you only roll your eyes at.

you see shuffling in your peripheral, meeting your friend’s eyes, you see them gesture to you and sirius. trying to wordlessly communicate to you with wide smiles. you imagine something akin to, see? what did we tell you? not useless right? nuisance my ass. look at you guys holding hands under the water.

as if just realizing it now, you pull your hand away from his grip in an embarrassed haste, as he slowly lets go with a small frown etched on his face.

drying his hands on the towel, as he leans down to unnecessarily whisper to you. “i’m going to get a burn salve, i’ll be quick.”

“it’s in the—“

“bathroom, yes, angel, i know. just wait for me.” he drawled, giving you a wry smile.

you stare at his retreating figure. you almost want to laugh at his serious reaction to a simple burn from a kettle. hardly calls for any salve. but you kept the comments in, for whatever reason. a fluffy, dangerous feeling erupting in your chest.

you hear dorcas whistle to get your attention, a smirk on her face, “angel?”

when the promise first happened, it was during graduation from hogwarts. absolutely gutted by the fact that your parents didn’t show. they’ve been vocal about their disappointment that you weren’t able to finish at the top of your class. but you had hoped they would still show. you were, after all, still their kid.

but there was noticeably empty seats in an area reserved for your family. so, naturally as any teenager, the next best thing you could do in the situation is cry alone in a bathroom.

though the lack of company didn’t last too long, because then your boyfriend appeared, looking to be in a middle of taking pictures if his big and goofy face is anything to go by.

he heard you, before he saw you. hearing your soft sniffles and the tiny hiccups from your mouth. at the time, you both didn’t question what had happen. why he was inside the girl’s bathroom, why is there a strange pull to follow your every whims. but he was suddenly there to comfort you, and make you smile again—who were you deny his services?

you both only managed to understand what was happening by the third time it happened. sirius suddenly appearing by your bedside, wet and covered in suds. he was in the middle of showering and you promptly freaked out, seeing large bits you weren’t ready to see yet.

but understanding why it was happening didn’t mean both of you would be prepared anytime it actually happened.

the bind didn’t pick and choose when, where, and why he would appear. there was an embarrassing moment when he showed up in the bathroom when you’ve ran out of tissue paper. also at your house during dinner when you needed salt, to which your parents justifiably freaked out at the sight of a boy, claiming to be your boyfriend.

this hasn’t changed years later.

now as you lie in your bed, feeling the scratchy feeling in your throat. you knew by the tingles in your arms. the thrumming static of your magic within you— letting you know of his arrival before you could even sit up.

there he was, your ex-boyfriend, like the days before. it was terribly late, and he was struggling to even stand straight as he yawns in the middle of your room, wearing a set of well-loved teddy bear pajamas.

“somethin’ wrong baby?” his voice deep, hoarse and low. something exciting spiking through your veins, making you more awake.

you knew, if he was more alert he wouldn’t have called you that.

you try not to think why you feel miffed by that fact.

“jus’ some water please.” you call softly from your bed.

he yawns again, rubbing his flat belly, “okay.” he breathes, walking in the darkness of your room with practiced ease.

you hear the small sounds of clanks in the kitchen, and the fridge being pulled open.

he knew you liked you water cold. he knew where your drinking glasses were. he knew where you keep the salves. he knew your apartment in the dark.

in the beginning, especially after your relationship ended, you associated this binding promise as an act of forceful requirement. at best, you see it as a favour you give to a stranger. but lately, especially in the quiet of your house, the pet names that keeps slipping out of his mouth as of late—you start to dangerously think of this as something else. as something more. as something painfully familiar.

he comes back quiet, siting on the bed near your thighs, as he hands you the cool, moist glass. his hair was tousled more than usual. there were sleeping marks on his face. he was probably already asleep before you needed him here.

you feel a little bit guilty, but you see his flushed cheeks through the soft glow of the moon outside your window, and the hooded gaze he desperately tries to keep open. you fight back a smile instead.

“is that all, baby?” his hand softly smoothing your hair at the back of your head. your room felt ridiculously warm.

“thank you.” you murmured before setting the glass on the bedside table.

he gives you one last sleepy smile, eyes closed and his hair toppling over his eyes. “okay, if that’s all—“

“are you going back?” you cut in, holding his wrist, your finger on his pulse. keeping him seated before he could even stand. before his warmth leaves your bed.

“i don’t have to..” he offers. like always, giving you the choice to draw the line.

you hesitate before you answer, letting go of his wrist, “it’s late..” and that’s all you say, and apparently that’s all he needs.

“is it alright then, if i stay the night? then i can leave in the morning?” he whispers back. his warm hand, touching your thigh over the covers. he felt so far away.

you don’t do this, not usually. but in the dark space of your room you feel more confident. more assured. braver.

you move slightly to the side, giving him space, “if you want.” conveniently forgetting the existence of the spare room. choosing to blame it on the lack of sleep.

he smiles, moving the covers. the short moment of exposure making you shiver in the cold. he notices, quickly sliding into bed with you. arms stiffly on his sides and yours crossed across your chest.

still not brave enough.

you feel him shuffle, laying on his side and facing you. his fingers just barely grazing your sides in a soft touch.

you fell asleep faster than any other night, hearing him breath near your ear.

you dream of a teary conversation from a time not so long ago, of desperate pleas not to leave you. and when you feel his arm curl around your waist. you dreaming of nothing for the rest of night.

the next morning, you woke up later than you would have, and see the too empty space next to you. the pang in your chest, grossly familiar.

it had been a month since the night he’s stayed with you. not a breath has been acknowledged about that night. choosing to ignore the lingering tension, the long stares and the awkward dispositions.

you don’t know whether to feel relieved or frustrated.

of course, your friends had noticed this - because hadn’t they been analyzing each of your move when it comes to sirius black?

dorcas eventually had to force it out of you. to which pandora squealed and teased you in delight. insistent of the blooming change in your relationship.

“blooming change?” you repeated.

“what? it’s poetic!” she argues.

“it’s dumb,” regulus calls out. “y/n isn’t the kind to return to an ex, especially not to my dumb brother, right y/n?” he looks so earnestly confident. so much so that you couldn’t even lie to agree with him. truth be told, you have no idea if you were even the type to go back, regardless if it was reggie’s dumb brother or not.

because sirius has been your first boyfriend and if this bind continues on, he might be your last. you don’t know if that’s a good thing, all things considered.

everyone has turned to you now, in varying degrees of smugness, amusement, pride and playful pity.

dorcas laughs, saving you from answering. “i don’t know reggie, seems like y/n’s getting a little swayed.”

reggie reacts for you, as if offended. “she is not! she is actively going on dates and meeting new people.”

“oh?” dorcas smirked.

barty, sitting up straighter, “doesn’t he have a room here or something?”

you say, “no,“ “yes.” pandora quips, at the same time.

you rolled your eyes, “it’s a guest room—“

“one that conveniently went unused in one random night.” evan hummed, smirking, as he blew his smoke out the window.

pandora and dorcas ooh’ed.

“it was late! he was practically dragging himself from the floor, i couldn’t let him hurt himself after i interrupted his sleep, a-and he was already there, it’d be rude not to—i don’t even know why i’m explaining myself to you!— i don’t have to explain myself, because i did nothing wrong.” your met with four amused looks and one gut wrenchingly, disappointed one.

dorcas clicked her tongue, “i don’t know why you’re even fighting it at this point.”

“what do you mean by that?”

“i mean, you clearly want to be with him still.”

you sputter, sitting straighter, indignant as you say, “what gave you that idea?”

“the longing gaze.”

“acting all shy.” barty adds.

“the late night rendezvous,” evan hums.

“giving him his own room.” pandora pointedly looked at you.

“the inability to pursue any other relationship after him.” regulus tutted.

you gasp, betrayed. “even you reggie?”

regulus rolled his eyes, crossing his arms and legs, “i am running out of eligible acquaintances to set you up with, you know.”

you don’t even know how to respond to that.

frankly you can’t. because you know they were right, and dammit if that didn’t hurt your pride just a little.

still, ridiculously hung up on an ex that didn’t even love you. a joke, really.

but you relish in the idea of sirius being near you. it sends a certain tingle down your spine just knowing he’ll arrive anytime, and be there for you. you like how he always stands so close to you even if he doesn’t have to. you like how you don’t have to tell him what he has to do before he does it. you like the pet names naturally slipping past his pretty mouth. how he’s always touching you in some way. how familiar it feels. the habits, the conversations, the feelings—how easy it all seems.

but it isn’t. you know it isn’t.

because you’ve tried and failed.

you fell for him, loved him the way you know how. leaving nothing for yourself as you give everything for him. loving him with no expectations for him to do the same. and so, he doesn’t.

he couldn’t love you back. at least not in the way you entirely feel for him.

he couldn’t look past his life and the experiences he’d endured just to reach that moment in the past. it wrecked you. you didn’t expect anything, but it still hurt when you got nothing for everything you had.

you don’t like the reminder, but you know you need it. you know how destroying it is to forget. you’ve tried being with him already and it didn’t work. you say this to them, whispered, as if ashamed.

you don’t even feel the tears sliding down your check as you say this.

dorcas’ smile dropped and pandora immediately sat down beside you.

“hey, you know it won’t be like that again.” pandora rubbing your shoulders.

“do i?” you rasped. “what’s so different about now than before? what’s to stop us from breaking up again?”

“it’s going to be different because you are different, and so is he.” dorcas said. “you were just teenagers, you barely knew yourselves back then. you weren’t ready for each other yet. he had issues to work out, and you had to grow up a little to understand that.”

you sniffled, “and you think we’re ready.”

“yes,” they all said.

dorcas reaching over and squeezing your hand, “i know you’re both ready.”

you shake your head, you don’t know if that’s true, “our forced proximity lasted longer than our actually relationship. and it’s only lasted this long because it’s just that—forced.”

pandora shook her head, dangling earrings clinking together. “that’s not true. it’s lasted this long because you wanted it to. you both wanted it to.”

evan nodded, smothering his cigarette butt and throwing it outside, “i, personally, wouldn’t want to spend any second with any of my exes, but you both didn’t even try finding any sort of solution to break the promise.”

barty gives you an awkward smile, as evan continues “if you had wanted to call it quits you would’ve found a way to end all of this the moment he had broken up with you. but you didn’t—“

“that’s because i couldn’t—“

“don’t lie,” regulus cut in, pouting, looking a bit like a petulant child. “we all know you could have found something in this ridiculously large library of yours.”

“why are you suddenly advocating for sirius and i to get back together again?”

regulus clicked his tongue, looking away. a slight flush on his cheeks. “i’m not advocating anything.” he huffs. “he’s an idiot who doesn’t deserve you. but if it’s sirius that ultimately makes you happy. then so be it.”

you swallow a lump, breathing a staggering breath, “i don’t know if he even—“

“he does.” regulus looking at you, eyes clear and sure. “he wouldn’t be so cross with me for setting you up with dates if he doesn’t.”

that same night, sirius, for once, was not summoned by you but of a call from regulus.

he already feels the natural flare of irritation, bracing himself for another round of teasing hums and provoking stories about how you’re on a date in an exclusive restaurant, with a bloke who’s ready to give you everything you need.

standing up from james’ couch, going to the kitchen to block the noise from the muggle telley, as remus called it. then accepting the call,

“i swear if you’re calling just to gloat about another conquest you’ve put her through then—“

“she needs you.” regulus slurred.

feeling an immediate spike in his heartbeat. already grabbing his jacket and hurrying to the front door to leave.

“we’re in a pub, bring your motorbike or something, she can’t apparate right now, too drunk.”

“i’ll be there in 10.” grabbing remus’ keys off a bowl in the entrance.

“oi, where the hell are you taking my car?” remus shrieked from the couch.

without looking back, “she needs me.”

peter whines from the living room, “but the game-!”

and he only slams the door close as a response.

“we’re in the east village, near a fountain.” regulus sluggishly explained before hanging up.

sirius wasn’t the best driver. in hindsight, he probably should have asked remus to drive him to you. but this was about you. he could hardly think about anything else when it comes to you. he would do anything for you, binding promise or not.

he found it particularly odd and extremely worrying, why you’re drinking on a thursday night. he knew you couldn’t handle your alcohol well, always ending up drinking too much and passing out.

considering regulus had to call him to come get you didn’t help his nerves as he drove faster than the limit allowed.

when he arrived expecting the worse, he found himself smiling at the sight of you.

you were laying your head on regulus lap as you both sat on the bench. he can hear barty and pandora trying to lift each other. dorcas and evan cheering them on.

but all he can see is you laying there. eyes closed and cheeks darkly flushed, dress splaying over your thighs. regulus smoothing your hair, lulling you to sleep. when he met his brother’s eyes. the younger black rolled his eyes and beckoned him over.

“took you long enough.” regulus grumbled, now sounding sober than when he called.

“is she okay?” sirius asks, crouching down and staring at your sleeping face for any signs of discomfort or pain.

regulus sighs, “just got a bit carried away, this one. she was… upset tonight so we let her have her fun an—“

“upset?” sirius cuts, couldn’t help the finger tracing your cheek and jaw. your nose twitching at his action. “why was she upset?”

regulus waves his hand, making vague gestures but offering no explanation. sirius frowns.

“i can take her home,” standing up, now as he calls out to the others. “does anybody else need a ride?”

all four heads, shook their heads and offered varying words of thanks. “you reggie?”

“don’t bother, i’m perfectly capable.” he tuts. “be careful of that metal beast.”

with slow movements, sirius slides his arms under your neck and the back of your thighs. making sure your dress stay tucked and you comfortably napping before lifting you up.

once lifted, your head turns to the crevice of his neck, burying your nose and breathing in deep. wrapping your own arms around his neck with practiced ease and familiarity.

his heart thrumming and slowing all the same. he likes you like this, so close to him and looking so content as you do now.

nodding his goodbyes to the others, as he walks to the car again. opening the car door proved to be a challenge what with an armful of you. but he managed to do so without jostling you too much. he didn’t want to wake you, but such actions proved to be futile as the moment you were placed in the passenger seat, you froze awake.

he tries to appease you with a gentle smile, brushing your hair behind your ear. “hi love, i’m getting you home today, is that alright?”

“siri?” you rasp, looking at him like he wasn’t real. his chest pounding as he sees your eyes glossing and shining with unshed tears. he immediately crouch down in front of you, grabbing of your hands, and peppering soft kisses on your knuckles.

“what is it, my love, why are you crying?”

“you’re here?”

he nodded, kissing your knuckles again. “i’m here.”

you said nothing, just staring at him. looking so lost and tearful. he feels a little guilty thinking you to be heart-clenchingly adorable, right now. looking so soft and precious, the urge to stay the night in the parking lot and just stare at you was strong but he knows he has to take you home, else you get sick.

he thought you were to say nothing else. so, he stood to close the door and head to the driver’s seat but you whined. tugging at his hand still in your clasp and pull him to you. tucking his head into your neck and burying your hand in his hair.

this is entering dangerous territories now, he thinks. one he very much like to continue venturing but he knows you weren’t sound of mind right now. so he refrains from touching you anymore than he has. his hands desperately clutching to the cold, hard car, substituting for your soft, pretty skin.

you whine, “don’t go.”

“‘m not going anywhere, baby. i’m just going to the seat next to you.” he mumbled, his lips agonizingly grazing your skin, he ignores the way your body shivers and the filthy thoughts that come with it. his hands gripping the car tighter.

“next to me?”

“yes, next to you.”

you eventually let him go, but not without constant coaxing.

he drives, slow and steady. avoiding potholes and uneven roads. you fell asleep again, from the slow, quiet drive and the soft, mellow music coming from the radio.

then sooner than he had liked, he parks in front of your house. he kills the engine and he whispers his calls to you. not sure whether he wants you awake to be feeling okay enough to walk or asleep so he can touch you again.

he moves when you stay quiet, doing everything he can to keep you from waking up. letting out a soft hiss each time a creak or a thump echoes in your quiet house.

when he finally, finally reaches your bedroom and lays you there, he’s quick to take off your shoes. then the realization of his next move taunts him. although, you looked very pretty with your dress, he doesn’t know if he should change your clothes into something more comfortable for you.

he knew an intense hungover when he sees one. getting up to change clothes isn’t pleasant with a raging headache. he stares at your laying figure. the thin strap of your dress slipped down, and your legs looking longer than he remembers.

he looks away before he sees anymore. it didn’t feel right, looking at you that way. especially whilst unconscious.

he open your dresser, knowing the drawer you keep your pajamas.

he sees a familiar, more faded than he remembers, shirt he always wore. the thought of you wearing his clothes makes him too happy and giddy for an adult man.

he fights his heart from beating too loudly. afraid you’ll hear. bites his lips to stop his giddy grin, and forces his eyes to focus on his search. but eventually did land on his old shirt and some long bottoms so you’d be warm.

he slid the bottoms first. careful not to touch your skin but very much feeling the heat of your thigh. he held his breath as he reached the curve of your bum. stopping and not knowing what to do next. with one arm he lifts you slightly off the bed. and with his eyes clenched tight, fast and frantic hands—holding his breath as he went to pull it up.

next was his your shirt. he had you sit up, head laying heavy on his shoulders. softly pulling back from you to slip the shirt over your head before letting you lean into him again. guiding your arms and pulling the soft tee down.

with a bated breath, he feels for the zipper at the back of your dress.

fingers touching and sliding over your back. the touch leaving a lingering static in his fingers. when he clutched the thin tiny thing, he slide it down. slowly, careful not to pinch your skin.

he hears you sigh from relief, letting himself smile, knowing he did a good job.

he lets you lay back down, properly this time, slip off your dress, cleans your face with a warm wet face towel.

he knows he should go. he knows to let you get your rest and sleep. knows he should return remus’ car. knows the lads are probably waiting for him. but there is no urge to leave. instead he stares at your clean bare face, the soft lines and pretty marks on your face just adds more to your allure.

he didn’t know how long he stared at you. it could’ve been a minute to a full hour, too busy studying your face, seeing all the new marks and the familiar ones, committing them to memory.

he was about to leave, lest he bothers you and wake you up. but you stirred.

stretching as you did so. and blearily stared at him. expectant and quiet.

your voice hoarse but genuine all the same. “it’s late..” he knew what you mean. the unspoken invitation, just like last time.

and he wants to—god he wants to.

“i can’t baby,” you were drunk, he wasn’t. it wouldn’t be fair.

“you’re leaving again?”

that did him in, slumping down on the bed. rubbing your outer thigh through your covers. “i’ll stay then, just rest.”

“but you’ll just leave me like last time.” you mumbled.

he gives you a lopsided smile, apologetic and painfully endeared all the same, “i had to, my love, i had work.”

“no,” you breathed, softly shaking your head, letting out a staggering breath like you were going to cry. “i meant the first time.” you whispered.

it was shameful the way he slowly realized what you had meant. you didn’t sound angry or bitter. or even resentful even if you had all the rights to.

he didn’t respond. letting your words stew in his mind. the quiet in the entire house emphasized by the ringing in his ears. he didn’t know what to say.

what words you were waiting for him to say. what words he can say to make it all better.

he didn’t even know you still think about that. still thinking about your relationship, and what had happened, and why it ended the way it did.

still thinking about it like him, who sometimes find it difficult to sleep thinking about you and the pain he caused you. the regret heavy in his veins like lead.

he should apologize, probably beg or grovel about the way it ended.

he was about to.

but he hears your soft breathing again. the stillness in your body, only sleep can make that he realizes he’s lost his chance.

again.

he rubbed your thighs, still. hoping to lull you into a deeper sleep. he grabbed a glass of cold water and put a statis charm so it would stay cool. he petted your hair, and caressed your cheek. it was painful, and he struggled. but he eventually left. feeling the same amount of fulfilled and disappointment altogether.

it was the next morning where sirius was beckoned again, this time not by a call from his baby brother but by the usual pull of your magic. he had expected as much, even fixed up his hair and wore fresh clean clothes and even put on perfume.

he did it whenever he could. in case you were to need him.

he even has a couple of hungover potion in his pocket just in case.

when he got summoned, popping into your familiar bedroom like the nights and mornings before. he was greeted with you still buried under the covers, eyebrows scrunched and eyes already open. you looked like you’ve been awake for some time now, but still refused to move.

you looked so tired and groggy and so soft and warm and homely and pretty.

someone with a hungover shouldn’t look as good as you did. but you are. he ignores the flutters in his stomach, tightening into a coil and puts on an easy smile.

“good morning dizzy girl.” he sing songs. plopping down on your bed, making sure to bounce you a little as he did.

you groan some more, turning away from him, holding your head.

he softly laughs. reaching over to smooth out your hair, “did you drink water?”

“hn.”

he took that as a no.

“up you go, c’mon. drink, you’ll feel better.” he grabs the glass. still filled full and cool like last night.

sliding his rough hands under your neck and the other to your back. slowly sitting you up so you can drink. you give little to no protest at all at his touch and considers this a win. his lips feeling a little wobbly as he fights a smile.

you took a small sip and then a larger gulp, sighing after finishing the whole glass.

“i also have a hangover potion and a headache one that lily made, so you know it’s good—“

“you left again.” you rasped, a small frown on your pretty face, still turned away from him.

he stops.

it suddenly dawns on him how you’ve yet to look at him, or greet him like you do when he always appears. he chalked it up to you being hungover or the highly probable headache you must have. not sulking, or possible moping over the fact that he hadn’t waited for you until morning.

he feels his heart take up larger room than normal in his chest. the loud thrumming under his veins as his magic comes to life, the burning desire of it all, the ringing in his ears, his pulse loud and the heat coming to his face.

you weren’t playing fair.

“i’m sorry,” he whispers, scooting near you. reaching out to wrap his arms around your shoulders, then lightly tugging you to him, to lean on him like you did the night before. it was through his absolute delight that you let him.

giving him the courage to continue his ministrations.

“you said you’d stay.” you softly whined, voice muffled by his neck. your hands gripping his shirt.

so unfair.

he’s fully hugging you now. he tries to fight the sigh that threatens to come out of his mouth from having you in his arms again.

he hadn’t expected for you to remember last night, what with constantly falling asleep. he should’ve prepared for it though.

“i’m sorry.” he repeats. this more graver than the last. this apology carrying more weight and more reason, when he remembers your last question.

“you always leave.” he feels something wet touch his neck. his hearts clench, the image of your tears too clear for him. “always leaving me.”

he tries to lean back to get a good look on you but once you felt him move away, you tightened your grip. now wrapping your own arms around his waist. sirius doesn’t know how to feel. suddenly wrapped in your warmness and the familiar feeling and the guilt that you’re crying over him.

again.

causing you pain, again.

“i know, i’m sorry.” he hates that it’s all he can say. hates he can’t say anything else.

so you ask, “why?”

why?

he knows what you’re asking isn’t about why he’s sorry for leaving. he knows you’re asking something else. one withheld from you from the very beginning.

why do keep calling me nicknames?

why do keep touching me?

why do i feel this way?

why can’t you stay?

why did you leave?

why didn’t you love me back?

there’s a lot of answers he’s withheld from you but he starts from the one heavy on his mind.

he suddenly wonders if you’ve been left wondering too.

if it keeps you up at night, and having no one to answer it. if it eats you up and if you regret being with him, the same way he regrets ever leaving you.

“i didn’t think that— you would want me to stay, after what i did. i didn’t dare myself to even think you could still want me— or even be around my presence at all.” he says this quiet and so close to your ear.

you let him go now, leaning against the bed post instead.

sirius instantly wishing for you to come back into his arms again, but he refrains.

“you thought i didn’t want you?”

“who would?” he laughs, albeit a bit self-deprecating but hoping you’ll take it as a joke. you only frown. “sirius, of course i would still want you. you’re the best thing that happened to me.” your eyes looked so clear then, so sure.

so sure it burns him.

“but i hurt you. i caused you pain, i’ve disappointed you again and again—“

“you didn’t disappoint me.” you grab his hands, your touch still so soft like he remembers it. “i was hurt, yes, but that wasn’t your fault. it was my own fault for giving you more than what you were comfortable with.”

he shook his head, frowning hard. “don’t do that.”

“what?”

“be understanding,” he laughs, incredulous. “taking responsibility for me being a shitty boyfriend to you for being a complete arse to you.”

“you did what you could. what with everything you went through?”

he turns away, but you grab his face with your other hand, and tilts his chin up.

“all the things you’ve had to endure? i know you try to hide your struggles with it all. but i see you. i see all the things, all the extra steps you have to take to become better than what your parents set you out for. and now look at you, making it out on your own. making new friends, no trace of the anger and bitterness they tried so hard to embed in you. i loved you for it all, and i understood why you couldn’t, even if it hurt. because that’s how people love. you love someone even if they have all the capabilities to hurt you more than anything in the world— and i have loved you for so long. and i might’ve not understood this when we were younger, but i do now. i wasn’t asking for apologies because i’ve long forgiven you for everything in the past. but i wanted to know what it is you felt. why you felt the need to hide the reasons from me.”

he lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding.

you let his face go. but he grabs it. incasing your hand in his.

mind sticking to one thing he feared.

loved?

has he lost his chance again?

have you deemed him unnecessary?

“you don’t—?” he sighs, stopping himself, that wasn’t important right now. especially not if you were looking at him, looking so patient.

he started slow, contemplative if he can articulate it well enough for you to understand. “i didn’t think i could ever be capable of love, or be anyone you could ever want and need. because you’re amazing. when you said you loved me for the first time, i thought i was dooming you. my family. my circumstances. i thought i was going to ruin you and i couldn’t live with the thought of doing that to you. so i thought that leaving would be for the best. i tried to leave. tried and convinced myself it was for you. that i had to let you go for you. but i couldn’t do it. selfish as it is, i couldn’t let you go.

“i even found a way to stop the bind, but thinking that my last connection with you would be gone, and you would forget about me—have a life without me there, i couldn’t. because, because i love you. i have loved you from the moment you smiled at me. it terrified me, how much i love you and how much i was willing to do anything for you. i love you more than i could ever understand and i’m sorry if i couldn’t say it that time, i’m sorry if this is a bit late, but i love being needed by you. i love being around you. i-i need you, more than you could ever need me.”

he didn’t notice the tears spilling to his cheeks before you wiped it away for him.

your eyes looking so soft.

“you love me?” you breathed.

as if it was unbelievable.

as if it wasn’t possible.

sirius hates himself a little more at the thought he might have caused some insecurity for you.

because it was ridiculous.

“i love you.” and like a broken record, he repeats it. again and again and again. much firmer than the last.

and you smile, so big and beautiful. and your eyes shining and so pretty. it was like the sun was shining so much brighter that day. like the clouds were opening up in the sky and bathing you in a golden glow.

he repeats it again, because he’s spent so many years holding himself back. and if your reaction is the same every time he says it then he’ll say it everyday. with every sentence, with every greeting, with every meal you cook for him. with every night he picks you up from a pub absolutely sloshed. with every irritating conversation he has with his baby brother. with every teasing quips from the lads. with every secret smile you give him. every time he touches you, every time he looks at you. because gods, don’t you look absolutely magnificent and unbelievable right now.

“i love you,” he repeats.

“i love you too.” you laugh. like your smile was getting too wide and too happy that you had to laugh.

and his heart soars. couldn’t stop himself even if he tried, as he leans in and captures your lips like he’s done so many times before.

thinking himself a proper idiot if he ever thought he could ever live without touching your lips ever again.

he touches your face like he did the night before. he grabs your waist like he always does. and he tilts your heads like a time before. he tastes a salty thing as your tears slides near his lips and he relishes in its taste.

he feels the warmth spreading to his entire face and body. feels the humming of his magic intertwining with yours. your soft mouth moving against him. and the stretch of your lips, smiling into the kiss.

he pulls away even if he didn’t want to.

“i love you,” he says again, and you smile at him so sweetly.

he repeats it because of your pretty smile.

and again. because he can.

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mezsygfs · 10 days

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imma need every marauders fan to drop their insta we making a massive gc 😝

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jackie5656 · 1 year

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First and Last With; James Potter

A/N: Hello again! I finally finished that wonderful request, so sorry it took forever. Football (NFL playoffs) and school preparations have kept me preoccupied. Winter break is over and I’m absolutely devastated. For anyone in college, I wish you luck for this Spring Semester. But with that being said, school starting back up means I likely won’t upload as much. So I apologize in advance. Regardless, I hope this makes up for the wait on this request. To the lovely anon and all others, enjoy!

Summary: The one where the Marauders vacation to the Potter’s beach house, and a revealing drinking game ensues...

TW: Descriptions of panic attacks, Sirius is an ass as usual, a lot of mutual pining.

“Marlene, you have packed half of your house and more, it’s just a week’s vacation.”

“Anything could happen, Sirius. Better to be over prepared than under prepared.”

“I’m just happy James is filthy rich.” Dorcas deadpans, straightening when you and Lilly shoot her a disapproving look. “And so, very generous at the same time.”

“I’m not filthy rich.” James laughs, taking your bags from your grasp and loading them into the trunk for you. Amongst all of your friends belongings, piled high enough to reach the top of the van you’ve rented for the adventure. “We’re just...Comfortable.”

“That’s what all rich people say.” You and Remus look to each other, stunned at your simultaneous blunt confessions.

“Shush, the lot of you.” Lilly chides, never sparing commonalities.

“Remind me why we couldn’t just use floo powder? I’m already sweating, and my complexion does not do well in heat.” Sirius fans himself dramatically. James allows you to lift yourself over the mountains of bags with his arm for support in order to reply.

“When have any of you experienced the adventure of a road trip?” You’re beaming at the thought, James takes your distraction as an opportunity to admire your unusually giddy attitude. Though the real reason you’re so eager to be away from home pulls at his mind, his grin faltering. He pokes your side, grabbing your attention.

“Miss sunshine gets shotgun, I’ve called it.”

“Prongs, I thought you’d have wanted me to be your passenger princess?”

“Absolutely not, though I’ll miss those luscious locks of yours. I’m driving, so I select my navigator.”

“You’ve been there a million times.” You note, crossing your arms incredulously. James smirks, placing his burgundy and gold quidditch cap atop your head.

“I’d much rather you keep me company.” He says so only you can hear, unknowing of your flushing when he turns back to Sirius. “Pads, Moons is gonna need a pretty view, it’s fortunate he’ll have you in the middle seat.”

“I’m reading! Reading this entire time, very busy.” Remus teases, pleased with the raven-haired boy’s mock offense.

You round the corner of the van after checking the trunk for the fourth time, positive you haven’t forgotten any supplies for the trip. James is at the passenger side, holding the door open for you. He’s got a pair of prescription sunglasses on, and looks very different. No less handsome, if anything, the shades accentuate the bravado you’ve always envied. His arms are especially toned after another quidditch season, tanned from the summer sun you’ve missed so dearly. You’re staring.

“Systems ready, co-pilot?” He beams down at you, pulling his cap over your eyes in teasing. You stick a tongue out at him, pulling his arms away so you can adjust it right again.

“I feel silly in this.”

“Nonsense, you look adorable. My clothes suit you.” He defends, so casual you don’t let the words resonate until after he’s shut your door and rounded to the drivers side.

“Enjoy the passenger seat, princess.” Sirius sneers, pouting despite not holding any true ill-will.

“Gladly.”

************

“Are we there yet?”

“No, Dorcas. Just like we weren’t there ten minutes ago.” James glances at the girl through the rearview, slightly amused with her childish complaints.

“You know, we could just pull over and-”

“No floo powder!” You and Lilly shout to Sirius, hoping not to have awoken a sleeping Marlene and Remus. Sirius covers their ears, both of them having dropped their heads on each one of his shoulders some time throughout their slumber. You finish fiddling with the radio when a good song comes on, taking a moment to look at the lot of your friends all corralled in the van.

“Where’s the camera, James?”

“On my side door here, I’ll pull over if you want it.”

“Oh, so you’ll pull over for her.”

“Shut it, Pads.”

“No need, I can reach it.” You lean over the seat, careful not to block his view of the road as you quickly grab it. James swallows, clears his throat to act natural whilst all of his insides begin to burn.

“Hot?” Is all you ask, studying his discomposure.

“What?” He starts, voice shaky and strained. Sirius falls into a fit of muffled laughter from the back, leaving you confused. “J-Just a little warm, yeah.” Potter recovers, now well aware you were inquiring about temperature. You turn up the AC, taking the cover off the lens and pointing the camera toward the back. Sirius smiles wide for the camera, handsome features lighted by the early afternoon sun. Marlene and Remus drool along on his shoulders as Lilly beams brightly from the back. Looking positively radiant, as always. Dorcas smiles, but holds up her favorite finger to the lens. You grin,full of adoration for the entire lot of them as you snap a couple photos, ensuring they’re all in the frame.

James admires in increments from the rearview, blowing a raspberry to the camera when you point it at him.

“Eyes on the road, Potter.” He shakes his head, running a hand over the steering wheel in a mindless habit as he hears the camera snap. Looking over quickly to smile at the lens. Effortlessly handsome, as usual.

“We have to take as many pictures as possible this week.” You demand, getting excited all over again for the much needed vacation, spent with all your best friends, no less.

You roll down your window even more, sticking your head to enjoy the warm, salty air. It smells of the beach, grass, all things green and beautiful. You’re so happy your head spins, giggling to yourself as you catch Lilly doing the same behind you. Meeting her eyes in the side mirror and scrunching your nose when she blows a kiss, an embellished hand pretending to capture it in the air and holding it to your heart.

James does a double take from his view of the road and then you. Trying to stay focused and not find any distraction in your adorably delighted mood. His brows furrow when you shuffle forward, aiming to get even more of your body out of window the feel the entirety of what this beautiful view has to offer.

“Absolutely not.” He chastises, a finger hooking onto your belt loop and tightening. His eyes are on the road, one hand on the wheel as he tugs you back inside.

“Lame!” You whine, hitting his arm in distaste.

“I prefer my friends with their pretty heads in tact, thank you.”

You settle in your seat, still full of delight but a little more contemplative as you think about what got you here.

“Summer vacation!” Sirius throws himself between you and Remus during lunch. Gathering an assortment of food on his own plate. You’ve barely eaten, stomach turning at the thought of being home for two months. You’re nudged from under the table, meeting James’ gaze, whose eyes avert to your abandoned plate. A subtle request for you to eat. You offer a weak smile, shrugging before your friends go on.

“Two whole months without exams.” Marlene adds, absolutely pleased with not having to spend another second with her nose in a book.

“We’ll be seventh years, I can hardly believe it.” You’ve considered Lilly’s words the entirety of this last month of classes, absolutely dreading going home. Hogwarts is more home than your house would ever be, and your friends are the only real family you have. You lose your breath at this, biting at the nail of your thumb and wincing when it draws blood.

“I’m gonna head to the library,” You announce, blinking hard to fight the room from blurring. “Forgot to turn in my potions textbook.” It’s believable enough for the group to nod along, chorusing their farewells as you head out of the great hall. Heart racing and hands trembling. James takes only a moment, eyes following you the entire time. It’s not his business, but he knows that demeanor. He’s seen all of this before, in the boy he calls his best friend. Sirius Black, who leans forward and shoots James a look. Instantly, the chaser is on his feet, mumbling a feeble excuse and heading out of the hall in search for you.

“I think he left the curling iron on.”

James searches the corridor wildly, all of the students being in the Great Hall makes the search easy, he can follow the sound of your fleeting footsteps with ease in this sea of silence. He follows your distant frame up a set of stairs, cursing to himself when they shift before he can follow your path. He’s searching for a new route, not wanting to shout to you and scare you even more.

There’s a lot of running, a couple instances of tripping over his own feet, but eventually Potter catches up to you.

You’re sat in a windowsill beneath an overhang of a hallway above, curled in on yourself. James approaches carefully, trying to control his panting breaths.

“Fuck, James!” You startle each other, studying the other instantly.

“You’re” the athlete coughs, winded, “so fast.” You smile, but it does little to calm you down, because as he gets closer, the view around him blurs, and everything sounds cloudy, distant.

“I’m,” you try to form words, too loud because you can’t hear yourself properly. “F-fine.” You try to move, try escaping to prevent embarrassing yourself further. Clutching your chest and swiping at the flood of tears that can’t be ceased.

“You’re not. You’re having a panic attack.”

“Happened b-before,” you wheeze, staring at your hands to make sure they’re real “I’m good.”

“And I’m a humble introvert that loves Slytherin, sit down.” You begin to wheeze, rubbing your hands over your legs to stop them from sweating, ground yourself maybe. “I’m gonna hug you, tight. Is that alright?” You nod, because you’re not entirely sure what he’s just said and it’s easier to comply.

He encloses you in an embrace, loosening for only a second when you fight it. He’s squeezing again, but it’s not unpleasant. You’re shaking, and your breaths are still rapid. James swallows, terrified and unsure. Because all of this usually helps Sirius but he’s still kind of freaking the fuck out.

“Let’s talk about something.” He suggests, wincing when you hiccup for air in reply. “I know you’ll love this. What’s something about me that annoys you?” You’re aware he’s trying to distract you, and you feel like you’re dying, so you give it a go in the off chance it’ll help.

“You’re im-immature.”

“Good. But you’ve done better than that, love.”

“You’re reckless. You play quidditch like,” you lick your lips, trying to control your trembling. “Like you’re indestructible.”

“Attagirl, something else?”

“You’re picky, and...And you’re too stubborn to try new things.” James hums, recalling a time you’d forced him to drink pumpkin juice an he hurled in the lavatory minutes later. He rests his chin on your head, pleased when the added pressure slows your breathing.

“You’d do anything for your friends, no matter the personal expense. It’s self destructive, p-probably exhausting.”

“Ouch. You really know how to flatter a man, love.”

“I don’t want to go home.” You whisper, so quiet he’d miss it had he not been surveying your every move. The confession shocks even you, and James, for likely the first time in his life, is devastated to be right about something.

“I’m not gonna let you. We’re going to figure this out. I’m gonna figure this out, I promise.”

“You’re doing that thing again.” You note, wiping your nose with the sleeve of your robe. Further comforted in the feel of his chest vibrating against you from laughing.

“And you’re forming full sentences.” He loosens, giving you space to decide whether or not you want to separate. You don’t, not right away, not when you can feel the strong, stable beating of his heart.

“What am I gonna do? I can’t stay here over break. Even if Dumbledore allowed it, my family would-” You falter, unable to finish. James holds tight again, nauseated.

“I promised. And I intend on keeping it, love.”

**********

“Land! Sweet, sweet land.” Sirius cries, throwing himself onto the freshly cut grass.

“James, it’s stunning.” Lilly shades her eyes to admire the shore house. Standing taller than the others around it.

“It’s home. Away from home, that is.” James shrugs, and you can’t help but feel a twinge of jealousy. There’s a faint, deep-rooted envy for the blessings your friends hold. Sirius rolls onto his back to look at you, the only one noticing your hunched shoulders amongst the rest of the group beginning to unload the van.

“Shall we go inside, lovely? Get dibs on the best rooms while these common folk collect our luggage. He extends his arm for you to take, adjusting the sunglasses adorning his face and ignoring the displeased looks of your friends. Stealing a kiss to your temple as he leads you inside.

“Moony, sweetheart, do be careful with my things. I’ll show you what bed to place them on.”

“Fuck off, Pads.”

“That’s Sir Padfoot, to you.”

You and Sirius falter, shocked to see an older woman placing the finishings of a homemade meal on the large kitchen table. The inside is even more impressive than the out, but you don’t have much time to appreciate the decorum. Considering you’re engulfed in an oddly familiar embrace.

“Welcome, welcome!” She beams, holding Sirius’ face and kissing his cheeks with small pinches.

“How’s my Siri?”

“Alright, mum. Thanks. James didn’t mention you’d be here. Though it’s a very happy surprise.” He looks at the wrinkled, stunning woman that smells of lavender and tea like she’s hung every star in the sky. It’s then you make the obvious connection this is Mrs. Potter.

“Oh, he doesn’t know either. I’m only here to make sure you’re all settled in and then I’ll be on my way. We haven’t visited here in a while, I wanted to be sure it looked alright for you all.”

“Hard to imagine it ever looks less than gorgeous,” you say without thinking, “thank you for having us. This is lovely.”

“And so are you, dear. Sirius, tell me this beautiful young girl is with you?” She strokes your hair, and it’s the most comforting touch you’ve likely ever felt.

“Only in my dreams, unfortunately. Unless dear y/n would like to make a wish come true?” You laugh, swatting away his puckered lips.

“Y/n? Oh, I’ve been waiting to meet you! Sweetheart, Jamie talks about you so much in his letters!”

“Let’s get waste-Mum!” James drops the bag in hand, yours. Pulling the handle of liquor behind his back in pure shock. “What are you doing here?”

“Thought I’d have a warm meal waiting for you kids. You must be starving after that drive. Though I’m so happy you did as opposed to powdering here. Shows some responsibility. And Jamie gets so sick sometimes with the powder and all-”

“Mum!” The taller boy repeats, setting the array of luggage in hand down and hiding the bottle behind it.

“I’m doting, aren’t I? Remmy!” She stops herself, rushing over to envelop the taller boy in her arms. He, just as Sirius, is absolutely pleased to see her. She goes down the line of girls, putting faces to names and genuinely loving every second of it. James sighs, no genuine distaste in his nature as he observes.

Sirius throws an arm over your shoulder, cheeky as ever. “Mum was just telling us about your letters home.”

“You’re just as pretty as he said you were. All you girls are so beautiful!” She goes on, blissfully unaware of her beet-red son.

“She exaggerates.” James scratches his neck, skin burning with embarrassment.

“Does she?” Siris pulls you closer, basking in your shared humiliation.

“This food looks wonderful Mrs. Potter. Thank you so much for thinking of us.” Lilly clasps her hands together, rolling her eyes fondly at James’ indebted glance.

“Call me Euphemia, please. And yes, you all must be starving. Come, fill those bellies with something warm.” You’re in a state of shock as you sit, unaccustomed to such hospitality and genuine kindness. It’s evident where James gets his big heart, undying selflessness.

The food is amazing, you all go for seconds with a chorus of shared appreciation and compliments. Euphemia beams as she collects her things, pleased to meet the lot of friends her son cares for so deeply.

“All the beds have fresh sheets, and there’s extra throw blankets in the linen closet. Jamie, your father says go easy on the fire whisky. He’d ask for no drinking, but we all know that’s a long shot. Don’t break anything, and Remmy, keep everyone in check.” The taller boy nods swiftly, no doubt having heard the orders before. James gets up from his seat, kissing his mothers cheek and enveloping her in a hug.

“Thank you mum, seriously.” She fixes his hair, wiping invisible smudges from his face in a fit of doting.

“No problem, I’m glad you were all able to make it here. You’re welcome to stay as long as you’d like. All of you.” Theres a quick moment where she meets both you and Sirius’ eyes, the two of you nodding with feigned smiles. Quickly, she kisses both Moony and Padfoot’s heads, stopping for only a moment to caress your cheek with her thumb, a faint sadness in her gaze. Everyone else is enveloped in conversation, passing servings across the table as they would at the Great Hall.

“You’ll keep an eye on my Jamie, won’t you?” She whispers, touch soothing you with an unknown ease.

“Of course, though I’m not sure he needs it.” You hold her wrist, somehow not minding the affection whatsoever.

“So he likes to think. He does, really, speak so fondly of you in his letters. You’re even more lovely than he described.” You want to cry, so overwhelmed with her generosity and love, a maternal energy so strong it’s wiped your mind of any anxieties.

“Alright, mum. Let the poor girl eat.” James guides her toward the fireplace, while his mother pats his arm and says something to him you don’t quite catch. James’ ears burn bright red, and he nudges her gently so she’ll stop looking over at you. The rest of the group turns toward the fireplace, echoing their farewells and gratuity as she waves. Floo powder enveloping the space around her and sending her off.

“Does that turn your stomach just looking at it, Jamie?” Marlene mocks, the rest of your laughing through bites of food as he flips her off.

“Fuck off, the lot of you.”

“We should start cleaning up.” You suggest, taking your own plate and bringing it to the sink. “This way we can unpack before the sun sets.” Lilly follows, taking her and Dorcas’ plate to you as you begin washing. Sirius groans, grabbing a dish towel from one of the drawers and drying the dishes you hand him.

“Can’t we just charm the sponges to clean these?”

“Dad had them countered so they can’t be charmed. Said it was supposed to teach me some ‘household responsibility.’” Sirius howls, thoroughly amused.

“I’m just curious about these detailed letters back home.” Remus mutters as he carries his plate past James, dodging his swings and rushing toward the group at the sink for safety.

*****************

After everyone’s settled in, and you’ve all recovered from the ‘who called what room first’ arguments, there’s an obligatory round of shots. A bin begins to pile high with cans, and you’re all sat around a bonfire atop the Potter’s outdoor furniture. Even the furniture for the backyard looks expensive, so you clutch your drink in hopes not to make any spills.

You’re buzzed now, skin tingling with an uncommon ease as you lean against the arm of the couch. Sea breeze easing the warm air as the fire pops in front of you.

“Alright, none of you are drunk enough.” Sirius chastises, shifting in his seat and tossing Lilly another beer. “Never have I ever,” you all groan in half-assed annoyance as the name of the game sounds, “been snitched on by Peeves.”

You and the rest of the girls take slow, ashamed, sips. The boys all looking over in amazement.

“We snuck out one time! All I wanted was a bloody butter beer.” Marlene confesses, flushed. James stretches as he approaches, still sore from driving. He passes you his cup, grinning when you cringe at whatever concoction he’s come up with. You move your legs so he can sit beside you, the rest of the couches having been taken.

“It was a terrible craving, but nonetheless worth the loss of points for Gryffindor.”

“Is that why we were tied with Ravenclaw mid semester?” Remus laughs over his cup.

“We still won the cup!” You and Lilly defend, James taking hold of your legs to place them on top of his. He isn’t even thinking about it, too enthralled with the teasing conversation before him as he slides a hand under the cuff of your jeans. Warm hands calloused from quidditch running over your shin. You’ve always found affection with him comes easier than with others, and the touch comforts you, electricity lingering on your skin.

“Never have I ever, had my first kiss.” Because Dorcas also aims to have the rest of you drinking more, she says what she thinks is the most common proposition. Your stomach turns, and you debate on taking a sip just because it’ll spare you the embarrassment. You must consider it too long, because Sirius’ brows shoot up in shock.

“Merlin, how?” Is all Sirius manages, the girls’ jaws dropping because you’ve never told them.

“I volunteer!” Marlene shoots a hand up while you curl into the cushions, wishing you’d just had the drink.

“It’s not that there haven’t been opportunities.” You struggle through the explanation, tugging on the sleeves of your shirt to fight the cold. “I just, I guess, want the first one to matter. If it’s been this long I may as well make it special.” They all coo in mocking, laughing when you flip them off.

“I get it.” James pats your leg, taking generous sips of his own drink.

“You don’t.” Theres an amusement in your tone, no real meanness to any of it.

“Well what about that Hufflepuff third semester, he was totally into you.” Dorcas inquires.

“Are we seriously this interested in my love life, or lack thereof?” You roll your eyes when they all agree, giddy from the topic and the alcohol. “I thought he was into me, but I don’t know. We stopped talking after a while.”

“Wait,” Remus narrows his brows, too contemplative to see James’ signals. “That curly haired guy, beater for Huffle?” You nod, giggling because he’s not usually this slow to understanding, clearly inebriated.

“Wasn’t that the kid that came up to us at Hogsmeade, Prongs?” Potter vehemently shakes his head, chugging his drink again.

“Nope, I don’t think so.”

“No, I’m pretty sure it was. You two didn’t get on that well, I think.” Sirius covers his mouth to muffle his laughing, basking in Moony’s drunken confession.

“You sabotaged me!” You frown, James grabbing your leg so you can’t kick his side.

“Listen, I overheard him boasting in the locker room. He’s not the type you should be around. Trust me.” He’s sincere, enough to make you relax.

“He was a bit of an ass, sweetheart. Prongs isn’t entirely wrong.”

“You two are still snog-blocks.” Dorcas is quick at your defense, crossing her arms in solidarity.

“If I wasn’t banished to solitude, I’d kiss you, Dorcas.”

“Time and place, lovely.” You clutch your heart, feigning a blush in your antics.

*********

“Alright, I need my beauty rest. Someone needs to remain the prettiest of the friend group.” Sirius stretches, tapping a dazed Remus on the cheek to get him up. His actions initiate the turning in of the rest of the group. To which you and James groan.

“It’s only 2, you’re all lame!” Potter sneers, looking to you for consolation. You nod along, displeased with their departure.

“You night owls can stay up as long as you want, but we have all week to be sleep deprived.” Marlene ruffles James’ hair and kisses your temple as she stupors inside, giggling all the way with the other girls.

“And then there were two.” You stretch, moving over when James shifts, moving into a laying position. In order to fit comfortably, you still have to keep your legs over his. “You know, now theres three other open couches.”

“I like it here.” He decides, enclosing his hands over his chest and settling in. You chuckle, letting him tangle his legs in yours.

It’s confusing, because he chooses you as his passenger, his seat-mate, scares other guys away. Fuck, he planned an entire trip just because you and Sirius have such shitty home lives. Guilt twinges in your chest, and the alcohol allows you to finally say what you’ve been holding in since you first got in the car. “James?” He hums, hazel eyes looking up at the array of stars in the night sky. “Why did you do all this?” Potter sits up, looking over to you in disbelief.

“Why wouldn’t I? Don’t you like it here?”

“Like it? It’s a shore house filled with all of my closest friends and alcohol. I love it here.” He laughs, nudging your legs with his own in teasing.

“I’ve been wanting to ask you something,” he starts, answering your question with one of his own. “Would you be willing to spend the whole summer here?”

This time, you sit up, brows raised in shock. “Sorry?”

“Instead of having to go home, you could stay here.”

“James, I couldn’t possibly intrude like that-”

“It wouldn’t just be us two.” He unnecessarily reassures. “I’ve already spoke with Pads, and he’s staying. My mum doesn’t want him going home either.”

“You already talked to your parents about it?”

“In the chance either of you said yes. They both are more than happy to have us stay here. There’s internship positions at my dad’s company, and he said if we looked after the house and helped him out, we’d be more than welcome to stay.”

“Are you starting a shelter for the broken homes club or something?” You jest, not in poor taste, but because it’s the only defense mechanism you know. James frowns anyway, upset at the thought.

“I care about the both of you. And...I’d never want either of you going home to- Well, anything other than a place you feel safe. I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if something happened to you. Knowing I could have stopped it. Understand?”

You nod, warm tears brimming in your eyes. Because in a world full of people that don’t, James Potter cares. You tackle him in a hug, overcome with the foreign feeling of being cared about, protected. He falters, wrapping an arm around your waist with a small laugh.

“That’s a yes, then?” You nod, smile pulling at your lips when he uses his thumb to wipe away your tears.

“James?”

“Yeah?” He’s soft-spoken now, eyes studying yours as you press your hands to his chest.

“Is there...Any other reason you told that guy to stay away from me?” He swallows, licking his lips with an unusual anxiety to him. He meets your eyes again, pleading for another hint.

“Would you want there to be?”

“I’d like to have my first kiss.” You play with a pull in his sweater, fighting a smile at his nervous demeanor. “Would you want it to be you?” He nods, slow, and honestly unsure if you’re fucking with him. Considering how embarrassed he’d be if this is some joke, or a dream, maybe. “James?” You move closer, and he snaps out of his daze.

“I would.” He averts his eyes to your lips, back to your eyes again to ensure you’re sincere. “Like to kiss you, I mean.”

You remove the space between you, putting your lips to his and hoping it comes natural like everyone says. It must, because he’s pulling you into his lap, a hint of a whine escaping his throat. You grin, flushing at his eagerness. He squeezes your sides harder, a warning.

“Stop it.” He continues past your jaw, down your neck, hearts thrumming with excitement and uncertainty. He tilts your head with his thumb, grinning when he nips at your skin and you gasp. Pulling back, he surveys his work, kissing you two more times before letting you breath.

Is that what I’ve been missing out on?” You pant, energy coursing through you and accentuating your buzz tenfold.

“Up to expectations?”

“Exceeded, I’m pretty sure.” You blink hard, taking hold of his wrists and moving them so they can slide under the hem of your shirt. You hold them at your waist, a silent sign to keep them there. Though you’re sure he would have anyway. He kisses you again, more intense this time, finally allowing all the pent up tension between the two of you release.

James, against every fiber of being in his body, pulls you away from him. Both breathing hard to collect yourselves. “While I’d really, really like to keep this up.” He starts, trying not to reconsider when your perfume envelopes his senses. “I’d like to take you out for dinner first. If you’ll let me.”

“Are you asking me on a date, Potter?” You whisper, teasing him as if it’s the hottest gossip to reach Hogwarts.

“Are you gonna say yes, pretty girl? Or leave me hanging?” You nod, and James throws his head back against the cushions, absolutely relieved.

*************

You blink awake, fire still burning brightly after being charmed by Lilly earlier in the evening. In the midst of you and James conversation, filled with recalling old times, plans for the rest of the summer, and a lot more alcohol, you both fell asleep. James’ jumper covers your frame, while the boy lays on the other side with only a sweater to keep warm.

“Prongs.” You nudge him, wincing when he groans. “It’s too cold, let’s go in.”

“Too tired,” he croaks, voice riddled with sleep, “too drunk. Come over on this side.” He rolls on his back, groaning again when the world spins with him.

“What, like...Next to you?”

“No, curled up on the floor like a cat.” Your brows furrow at his sassiness, fighting a smile as you crawl over. Muttering a half-assed apology when you nearly knee his groin.

Hesitantly, you place a head on his chest, letting him grab you under one knee and pulling it up so you leg rests over his abdomen. Immediately, he releases a deep breath, fully relaxed. Your body, though, tingles with that same electricity from before, keeping you awake.

“Sleep.” He orders, nudging the back of your head with his shoulder, eyes closed but somehow aware.

“Can’t.”

“Is this alright?” He blinks awake, afraid he’s made you uncomfortable.

“Good, this is good.” You reassure, pulling on his jumper so it covers both of you. He pushes your arm away, tugging on the fabric and covering only you again, stern in his actions.

“Close your eyes. I need us both to sleep this alcohol off so I can kiss you again.”

“Who says I’ll let you, Potter?”

“I may have been your first kiss, but I’m also aiming to be your last. So please, Dove, shut up and sleep” You’re speechless, he’s stunned you with his confession and simultaneous attitude.

“I hate you.”

“I seriously doubt that.” There’s a smile on his face, you can hear it in his grumbling voice. Wordlessly, he moves the arm that’s under you so he can stroke your cheek, eyebrows, and jaw with the hook of his finger. Knowing the gentle touch will send you off to sleep. And it does, because you don’t wake again until morning.

********

“Rise and shine, love birds. If you want to hoot with the owls, you’ve got to fly with the eagles.” Sirius chimes, a click of a camera sounding out after he speaks.

“Any louder, Pads, and I’ll break your jaw.” James covers your ears, shielding you from your friends shrill laughter with an intense glare. His head pounds something awful, and he’s pretty sure he’s never been this hungover in his entire life. He remembers every second, though, memories of last night bringing a dopey smile to his face. Despite the alcohols consequences.

“Hey.” He nudges your arm, ignoring the gawking of his friends through the glass sliding door as he wakes you. You yawn, stretching atop him and regaining sense of your surroundings.

“Are we supposed to be spinning?” James rolls his eyes, much too fond of you for his own good.

“We have to get up, theres breakfast.”

“I can’t eat a single thing right now.”

“Yes you can,” he pushes you again, sighing in feigned annoyance when you rub your face into his shirt. Shielding the morning light from your eyes. In one swift movement, he sits you both up and hurls you over his shoulder, ignoring your squirms of protest with an obnoxious yawn. He sets you down at the breakfast bar in the kitchen, grumbling a hello to your astonished group of friends. You’re too hungover to feel embarrassed, smiling a thank you to Remus when he slides his glass of orange juice toward you, Sirius’ sunglasses over his eyes.

“Gimme those,” you plead, extending an arm that’s quickly swatted away.

“Get your own,” he whines, “I let you have my juice.” You accept this, nursing the glass as though it’ll save your life.

“Late night?” Lilly teases, putting a plate of food in front of you and James. You both groan, but offer your gratitude for breakfast anyway.

“Figured you would have at least made it inside.” Marlene chastises, amused with your zombie-like states. You frown when James finishes what’s left in your glass, watching as he leans across the counter to grab the carton and refills it. Sirius places a steaming cup of tea in front of you and Potter, avoiding your distrusting gaze as he clears his throat to speak.

He’s awfully cheeky all the sudden, hoisting himself onto the counter with his signature mischievous grin. “Never have I ever…Had my first kiss?” His voice tilts in questioning at the end, and you’re momentarily displeased with the realization you’ll be spending the rest of the summer with the shit-starting bastard you consider a friend.

You’re absolutely flushed, curling in on yourself when a chorus of cheers erupts after taking a swift sip from your mug.

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fourmoony · 7 months

Text

𝐡𝐨𝐩𝐞

james potter x f!reader

fluff. 1.5k.

Summary: James brings home a baby. A baby that is not kidnapped.

part 2 - part 3 - part 4 - masterlist

...

James is standing in the doorway with a baby in his arms.

You’re so grateful he’s even there, that he’s made it back alive – albeit a little bloody and battered, glasses askew and his face covered in dirt – but alive nonetheless, that you don’t even notice the baby, bundled in a warm, fluffy blanket, wrapped safely in his arms. He’s bouncing his arms gently, probably trying to soothe the baby who’s making soft noises, and it’s really a sight to behold. It’s not until he steps through the doorway and gives you a nervous, lopsided smile that you fully register your boyfriend is holding a baby.

You blink. Once, twice. A third time.

James grows progressively more antsy. He chews his busted lip, winces, and then shifts back and forth on his feet. You have no idea where he could even have procured a baby. He’s been on an order mission for the past four days, scouting possible allies with the vampires whilst simultaneously moving important potions ingredients from one safe house to another, making sure the Death Eaters are always two steps behind order movements. Realistically, there’s been zero opportunity for James to come across a baby that he could just – take home.

“You’re home,” You breathe, because truly, that’s the most important part of the whole ordeal. James is here. He’s safe. He’s alive. Another mission down, and James has returned home. So, you’re glad. Grateful, unbelievably so. But also confused. Deeply confused.

“You have questions,” James is arguably calm about the situation, like he’d expected you to be eyeing him with hesitation – he was right – and he’s already rehearsed this in his head. “That’s normal.”

“Normal,” You repeat, the word tasting foreign on your tongue because nothing about this is normal. “Jamie, you’re holding a baby. Tell me we’re just like, babysitting, or something and you haven’t kidnapped someone’s child!”

James winces at your – albeit, quiet – yelling. The baby whimpers in his arms and immediately James shushes it, bouncing slightly on the spot with a desperate look in his eyes. He’s out of his depth, it’s obvious by the panicked way he’s looking between you and the baby, something pleading in his eyes.

“I didn’t kidnap her,” James argues childishly.

Okay, so, the baby is a girl. And James didn’t kidnap her. You turn and walk towards the kitchen, James follows, hot on your heels. The kitchen is a bit of a mess. There are your dishes from dinner, the bin is full, and there’s a couple of empty cartons for the recycling dotted on the counter closest to the back garden door. But James doesn’t flinch, he surveys his surroundings, but ultimately ignores the mess you’ve allowed to take over the small space in the days he’s been away.

“We were flying over Surrey when Marls spotted the dark mark over a muggle area,” James launches into explanation while you busy yourself with leaning over the sink and running the warm water. “We stopped to assess damage, but the Aurors were already there. Her family was killed, baby. The muggle government won’t touch the scene with a ten-foot pole – not that the baby had any other family, anyway, Alice already checked – and the Ministry won’t do anything except send her to an orphanage.”

The suds around your hands suddenly feel too much. The soup crusted around the side of your dinner bowl won’t come off and you scrub aggressively at it, focussing on that instead of the fact that your boyfriend has essentially just told you he’s informally adopted a child at random, without discussing it with you first.

Well, you know there was no time for him to discuss it. You can’t be mad at him for that. And, really, you can’t be angry at him, either, for bringing her to your home. She’s safe here. She’s already suffered an incredible amount of trauma, and she barely looks more than three months old. Your heart softens with your resolve, and you lift your head to look out of the window above the sink. The cottage you and James live in was a gift from his parents – a gift that had made you incredibly overwhelmed until you found out it had been under their ownership since before James was born, anyway – and has enough room for a swing set and a slide, maybe a trampoline. There’s a spare room, upstairs. Sirius will grumble about giving up his room for when he visits, but you’re sure he’ll get over it with some encouragement from Remus. The cottage is pretty much baby proof for James and Sirius’ sake, anyway. You have enough expendable income to completely kit out an emergency nursery necessary.

The argument isn’t really that you can’t afford to have a baby, or that you don’t have space for a baby. It’s that you’re nineteen, a year out of Hogwarts and in the middle of a war. Things are bad, times are scary, James is gone at least a week out of every month, you spend most of your days confined to the inside of a potions lab with Lily, making key potions that the Order need to work efficiently. You’re still kids yourselves, fighting a war that is taking everything from you.

But the way James is holding her like she’s the most precious thing he’s ever seen, rocking her, and cooing at her, you melt when you turn to face them, and it just feels – right, you suppose.

James looks up, smiles tentatively. You’ve always known he’ll be a great dad. He’s so full of light and love. When he loves, he loves with his entire heart. He loves dotingly and loyally. He’s so sure, standing there. Even though you can tell he’s trying to respect you, waiting to show his excitement until he knows how you feel, you can also see how much love he already has for this little girl, how sure he is that here, with him and with you, is the best place for her.

You take a step towards him, around the kitchen island, and hold your arms out wordlessly. He places her in your arms so gently and then watches as your eyes meet hers. They’re big and round and so blue you feel the breath hitch in your throat. She’s gorgeous. Big puffy cheeks and tufts of dark hair on her small little head. Her tiny lips are curved into a tired pout. You can’t help the smile that overcomes you. When your eyes lift – reluctantly – James is staring at you both. There’s something sickly sweet about the look in his eyes, warm like coffee, sweet like honey.

“We’re at war, Jamie,” You tell him, “Having a baby is a bad idea.”

James nods, “I know.”

A beat of silence passes. An understanding, maybe. It’s a bad time to be two nineteen-year-olds having a baby. But it’s there, in the way James looks at you. He’s never been one to have perfect timing. He asked you to be his girlfriend in the middle of an argument. He asked you to move in with him after school when the first Daily Prophet announcement about the war being confirmed happened. He’s brought a baby home out of nowhere, in the middle of said war. But it feels right. Holding her in your arms, James standing so close you can feel his warmth.

“What’s her name?” You ask, smiling sweetly at James.

He beams. He just – he beams. You know that he knows, then. You’re in. For better or worse.

“No idea. Alice had the muggle police contact the muggle social workers, who had no idea of anything about her. Bit of a mystery, really. But we get to keep her. Keep her safe, love her, raise her. So, I think it worked out. Is that bad?" James whips his head up, like his words surprised himself.

You chuckle lightly, "A little."

"What do you think we should name her?" You ask, eyes flitting back down to her. She's fallen over into sleep, blue irises gone from the world and you feel a tinge of sadness. You miss the bright blue of them, already. She's huffing softly, lips parted cutely. There's something magical about the way she's captured your heart in ten minutes flat. She might have magical powers, after all.

"Not sure. We can think on it. Our meeting with the ministry to officially adopt isn't until Monday." James speaks softly, in awe of the sight of you both.

You nod, "We better ring for Sirius and Remus, send them off for a cot, and then coax them into helping us build it."

You hand her over to James, he takes her, and then make for the phone. James stops you when he speaks, voice an amused whisper, lips pressed to her head, "They're already on their way."

"You knew I'd say yes."

"I knew you'd say yes. How could you not? Look at her." James is all honey voiced as he coos and holds the baby up for you to see and you melt.

She's the cutest thing you've ever seen. You're in awe. She's got your heart, well and truly. It's a strange feeling, to have such adoration for a human so small, who you've only just met. But you know you'll lay your life down to protect her. You'd do anything to make sure she's safe. She promises love, in the darkest time. You can already see the difference in James since returning home. He's lighter, full of smiles, gentle, happy. Usually, after missions, James is dark and brooding. He's filled with a darkness that only being a soldier can bring about.

James is looking at her so lovingly it makes you want to cry. She's happiness, and love. She's-

"Hope." You say, the ghost of a smile on your lips.

James looks up, brows furrowed, a question.

"Hope Potter." You affirm, tears in your eyes.

Your heart fills when James leans forward, presses a kiss to your lips, careful not to jostle Hope, "I love it. I love you."

"I love you. Both."

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