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yrluvjane · 11 months

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𝒀𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆 𝒊𝒔 𝒃𝒆𝒕𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒏 𝒈𝒐𝒍𝒅

[old money] James x fem!reader

《 Summary - After a coincidental encounter, James takes interest in one of his employees. 》

𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐋𝐢𝐬𝐭

Who didn't know the Potters, especially when they owned everything. From banks, houses, and yachts to mansions, planes, and private islands. The family was known for its wealth and power. Almost ten generations have come since their fortune was assigned and now they’ve reached the point in being one of the richest and influential families in Europe.

And it wasn’t every day James Potter, the only living heir, walked into a diner where he would only be served greasy fries and pizza. His perfectly tailored designer clothes made him stick out like a sore thumb no matter where he sat.

Sat on a table at the far end of the room, with a relaxing book in his hands and a steaming cup of black coffee on the table; James Potter’s eyes wandered from word to word and line to line, finding peace in between the letters. His eyes would raise temporarily every time the hanging door bells jingled to check if his company had arrived.

Despite the loud noise of chatter, the diner was mostly empty, only six tables were taken. The sudden and loud laughs of a group of women disrupted his reading, and James involuntarily swung his head towards them, confusion and curiosity swirling in his eyes.

There, by the booths, sat a group of five girls all cheering loudly for their friend. James guessed that the woman they were cheering for was engaged, his eyes slightly squinted at the lady as she displayed her hand on the table for everyone to see.

It's not long before he realizes he’s not the only one looking at them; an elderly couple next to him, smiled fondly at the ladies and laughed together after a few short-whispered words.

“Mr. Potter,” He blinked, refocusing his attention on the voice. He raised his head and found himself facing a young man in a wrinkled suit and skewed slim tie who was staring at him with a disturbingly wide smile. “An honor to have you here, truly.”

“Thank you.” James responded blankly hoping to return to his book as quickly as possible without attracting unwanted attention from other diners, but it seemed as though the man did not comprehend James’ annoyance and instead decided to invite himself at James’ table.

“My name is also James,”

The Potter one sent the man a tight-lipped smile. “I own this place, it’s actually my dad’s but I managed to sway him into giving it to me. So, yeah.” At that, the man had finally stopped talking and stared at James as though he was expecting the man to hand him an award and at James awkwardly silent response, the man threw his head back and laughed loudly.

James narrowed his gaze at the man from behind his glasses and levelled him with a silent look of judgement. Though James did not speak any words his eyes expressed his feelings towards the man perfectly. And this time the man was able to clearly make out James' unpleasant impression of him. "Not a man of many words, got it.”

“I’ll leave you to it then!” The other James said hesitantly, “If you need anything, and I mean anything I am right here!” The manager stood up and winked at him as he left.

James sighed tiredly as the man’s voice faded and had finally vanished from his view. It was not that James was rude, it was the fact he did not appreciate people trying to sway him while he was having one of his very rare moments of peace.

His life has always been open to the public, from press conferences and social events to having people stalk him to his home. And though James would have seemed rude he didn’t think the twenty-something year old boy would have anything to say that was worth listening to.

James would rather have this limited time to hear his own thinking without having everyone train their eyes on him and bug him with their opinions of his every thought.

And not a few minutes later, the door swung open once more, ringing the bells and allowing a cold breeze to flow in. James’ eyes followed the jingles as he raised his cup of coffee to his lips and when his eyes trained on the silhouette he was met with a surprising feeling of familiarity.

His hold on his book loosened, and he gently put the cup back on the saucer. He leaned back on his chair and narrowed his eyes at the woman, trying to make out where he could’ve seen her. By the style and quality of her clothes, he doubted they had worked together. And even if she wore something less normal, there weren’t many acquaintances he knew that would step into anything like this diner.

He let his eyes follow the lady’s figure all the way to the celebrating group of women, all of whom started beckoning her over once they saw her. The closer she was to them the clearer she became. Under the small restaurant’s soft yellow glow, he could finally notice her blue jumper and black trousers. She waved to her friends and walked to them, a black coat hanging from her arm.

Once she took a seat, she scanned the place; freezing once she laid eyes on him. Her eyes widened, blinking owlishly, staring at him with parted lips. She recognized him, yet he still couldn't make sense of who she was. A reporter? An ex? Maybe an assistant? An employee? His mind raced with possibilities and theories trying to guess or at least sense where he’d met her.

As time passes at the speed of a turtle, he can feel the young woman’s gaze at him from afar. Every few minutes or so she turns to him as though she’s expecting something to happen; he doesn’t dare look back but he does catch her eye once. He turns to his side, slightly annoyed and faces her, staring unashamedly.

Her face of curiosity morphs into one of embarrassment, and James finds himself breaking their little contest when the door swings back open again and his friend walks in, waving at James from across the room. He shoots the girl one last look but this time, it’s her back that’s facing him.

A week later, James is sitting on a lounge chair by the pool, hoping to get some work done. The sun shone brightly above him, and despite there being cool winds breezing by, James’ clothes still stuck to his skin through a layer of sweat.

“Mr. Potter,” Anders, the Potter's head butler, calls. James faces him, scrunching his face against the sun's rays and smiles.

“Yes, Anders?”

“I have Miss Page on the phone.” He states with a sympathetic smile, handing him the black land phone. James sighed, getting up and taking the phone, he sighs one more time, this time at his assistant’s name on the small screen. “Margret?”

“James! I called six times!” She exclaims, and he can hear the distracting background noises of ringing phones, chattering and pointy heels undoubtedly belonging to the woman on the phone. ”My phone isn’t with me.” James says after shuffling some papers and looking for it. “Why? Why would you not have your phone around you at all times? I mean, what if an emergency happens? Do I have to wait for Anders to pick up the phone after four rings?”

“Marge? I’m kind of busy here, too.” He says into the phone, stretching his legs by pacing around the large pool. The sun shines on the water so brightly that James has to have on his sunglasses just to not be blinded by the reflecting sparkles of light.

“Well you should thank me. I had the meeting on Tuesday postponed to Thursday, just like you asked. Then, I have Patrick bothering me about Jackson Mills. Things are heavy James, especially now with election season so close.”

“I’ll call Jackson today—”

“Great!” She cuts him off before he can even finish his sentence.

James chuckles softly as she moves on to the next thing on her list. Margret was a wonder truly, but don't be fooled she was direct and pointed as her heels.

“You have dinner at 6:30 on Wednesday with Delilah’s parents,” and for the next few moments the line is silent, “I can always tell them you got into a car crash, if you’d like?” She suggests, her voice much clearer now as the background noises fade out. “No, no, my parents have been pestering me about this for weeks, I might as well get it over with. Marge, the report for the new expansion project is on my desk, have Carter send them to me, please.”

There's a sound of shuffling papers before Margaret's voice appears once more, "It will be with you in 30 minutes."

As she continues, James looks down at his shoes in weariness, sighing, before raising his head up once more; movements by the bushes catch his eyes. He walks over to the end at the end of the pool, where he suspects the gardeners are working, his brows furrowing as he gets closer.

And when he finally reaches the fence, his lips parted in amusement and chuckles at the scene in front of him.

“James?”

“Sorry, Marge, you were saying,” James says, barely listening. His arms are leaned over the black fence that separates the pool from the gardens. There, on the ground, sat the woman from the restaurant. Her uniform was all muddy and stained with dirt and grass, her hair was pushed up in a messy up-do that was somehow being held up with a fork.

James laughs.

“Marge, I’ll call you later.” He says, cutting her off as he ends the call and stares at the woman. At the sound of his amusement, the young lady faced him with a perplexed expression. “Mr. Potter,” She addresses, eyes wide and strands of hair falling over her face. She huffs and fails to push them back with her arm. ”I’m so sorry for bothering you.” She said, “I can leave if you’d like. I’m done anyway.”

“No, no, there’s no need to leave.” He states, his eyes focus on her uniform, a question forming in his head. “May just ask, why are you working in the gardens if you're supposed to be working in the kitchens?” He asked, and he watched her squint her eyes and shade her view with with her arm.

“Tony, the usual gardener, his daughter, got in an accident. And since I’m done with my work, l told him I could take over while he went to see her in the hospital. I do hope you don’t mind.”

“No, no. But why not just call another one of the gardeners?”

“I…didn’t think of that.” She said, biting her lips and narrowing her eyes. “Mmmh,” James hummed, “So what is it you're doing exactly?”

“Oh I’m just potting these!” She said, pointing towards a bush of pinkish flowers. “Looks great.” He commented blankly.

“Think so? I’ve never done this before.” She pointed, getting on the ground once more.

“In the end of the day it’s them being judged, not your…limited knowledge in gardening.” He said and studied the woman as she laughed. “Oh you should see the Gardenia’s they've put by the gates! They’re gorgeous!”

“Do you like Gardenia’s?” He asks and takes off his shades as the clouds begin to cage the sun. He runs his fingers through his hair, pushing back loose curls. “They are very pretty.” She notes, and James foresees the incoming 'but'.

“– But not enough to be your favorite?” He finishes and she looks at him and shakes her head smiling. “I can’t pick at all. They’re all so beautiful.”

“You seem to know a lot about flowers but so little of gardening?”

“When I was younger, my neighbor gave me a flower book. It had the names of the flowers and when they bloomed, and where they bloomed. That's all it said. ” She shares, "I didn't really have much to do as a child, so I took on reading. I enjoyed it for a while."

James squinted his eyes at her. Curiosity blooming in his chest. Taking a step back from the fence, he pointed towards his pool with his thumb. "What would you put here?" He asked.

"I'm sorry?" She asked, confused.

"The pool seems kind of bland, doesn't it? It's all plain and boring. We can do better."

"Oh," she asks and stands back up to look onto his side of the fence. James took the opportunity to clearly look at the woman as she dusted her knees and skirt of grass. She was pretty, that was quite clear. But it didn’t make that much of a difference to James; after all he’s had his share of beautiful women every now and then.

She walked forward and leaned on the fence, the smell of jasmine reaching his nose. It was a lot more welcoming and relaxing than the smell of chlorine the pool gave off.

His studied her face, her focused eyes, her bitten lips, and even the small hairs failing to be held up. "....You could go for the classics and pick some roses?"

He arched a brow at her, and she pursed her lips in response before facing the pool once more. "Angel's Trumpet?"

"Aren't they poisonous to the touch?" He asked, leaning back on the fence and giving her his most charming smile. "Right, I forgot about that." She mutters, biting the inside of her cheek, James smiles at her embarrassed expression.

She shifts from one foot to the other. James catches her fidgeting fingers and instantly feels bad for making her uncomfortable. He stands up straight as a frown takes on his face. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have put this on you. It's not your job,"

"Oh no, it's fine, really. I... Oh! What about Daylilies?" She asked. James looked at her in thought, "What flower would be on all your top favorites lists?" She tilted her head in thought, her arms falling to lean on the fence as she fixed her gaze on the pool.

"Jasmine's." She stated as she looked at him. Suddenly aware of how their elbows are touching and how small the space between them is, James's smile turned to a light smirk.

It seemed that she noticed cause soon enough she coughed and took a step back, apologizing. "It's fine." James replied. His eyes wandered over her figure one last time before putting a hand out. "James."

She stared at his hand as though she believed it might bite her. She looked at him, then his hand, and took a step forward, pushing her hand out and introducing herself. “An honor.”

“The honor is all mine.” James says, holding her hand in care as he raised it to his lips and placed a gentle kiss on her knuckles. He watched her face break into a smile before she bit the inside of her cheek and faced James with a raised brow. James only smiled in return.

He wasn’t sure why but this woman had definitely caught his attention. “I should probably get going.” She said and leaned down to grab the leftover equipment and gave a hesitant wave.

“Good Bye” James said, waving back and watched as she disappeared behind the greenery of the gardens.

The next day you woke up with a striking headache and the usual urge to fall right back into bed. It took at least 10 minutes to finally convince the rest of your body that it would be for the best to get up.

And you eventually did, after having a nice warm shower to soothe your back and warm you against the coldness of your bathroom, you dressed in your everyday clothes and quickly made your way to the local farmer’s market, in hopes of getting there early.

The most distinctive smell was that of Olive oil, it filled the air and the closer you got the easier it was to make out the strong scent of spices. It was 9:15, the farmers were set up and there was a respectful amount of families and people buying fresh groceries. It didn’t take long for you to grab your things, as you’ve been coming here for years you were practically a usual so most of your orders were pre-ordered and all you had to do is pick them up.

By 10 you were outside the large black gates to the estate, a golf car awaited your arrival as to drive to the main doors, you never really understood why there was around a mile from the gates to the Manor. “Thanks, Robert!” You said, grabbing the bags and running up the steps to the front doors of the service enterance. Anders swung the door open just as you reached the last step.

“Morning, Anders.” You greeted me with a smile.

“Good Morning, Miss —” He was cut off with four men entering the large foyer. You trailed your eyes over their uniform, a dirt-stained grey jumpsuit with a green flower logo on their chest. ‘Gardens?’ You mouthed at the older man, he nodded back. “Yes, Mr. Fretman, if you will follow me, please.”

You snickered at Anders' tone of exasperation as he guided the men out. You managed to side-stepped all the priceless furniture that was in your way to the kitchens and it was no easy task. It was more like an obstacle course, especially with your sense of sight being blocked off by overly filled brown paper bags.

Potter Estate was the definition of over the top.

The Manor consisted of 16 guestrooms, 24 bathrooms, 2 kitchens, an indoor pool, an indoor sauna and jacuzzi, a music room, 2 library’s, the theatre room, a sewing room, 4 offices, a wine cellar and an attic, with lord knows what in it.

The outside was even grander, there was the stables, the shooting range, the lake yards of grass and fancy gardens, the greenhouse (Which no one really sat in except Mrs. Potter whenever she visited), the outdoor pool, the garage and lastly the old stable house (Which, according to Anders, was turned into a "bat cave" by Mr. Potter Sr. for his son and his friends when they were younger.)

You made your way to the end of the west wing, pushing the large oak door open with your feet and sliding in. The evident silence came as a surprise, you would’ve expected to hear shouting, yelling, arguing, the sounds of slamming cupboards and chopping knives, something. But it was completely silent.

You placed the paper bags on the large kitchen island, which was three times the size of your bed and began sorting the fruits, vegetables and cheeses into the fridge and anything else in a cupboard. Once done, you threw the brown bags into a trash bin before washing your hands.

Your mind wandered away, wondering what might have happened to the rest of the crew. You huffed and wondered if you should look for them or not. Maybe they all got sick? But they were all fine yesterday. They were called somewhere else? Anders would have told you to join them. You took a look around and pushed your hair back with a headband and slipped on a hair net. You took one hesitant look around hoping someone would walk in but after a long and silent minute of you leaning on the marble table, gazing at the overly decorated door, you turned your gaze away from the entrance.

You shuffled from one cupboard, pulling all sorts of ingredients; flour, egg, sugar, vanilla , everything you needed to make a batch of cinnamon buns. And in a few moments you had already begun the first step, humming as you kneaded the dough, gently folding it between your hands and letting it rest for a while after you had declared it ready. You moved to preset the oven and a small red bulb lit up as you twisted the knob, signaling it was on.

You yawned and your vision blurred as your eyes teared up from sleepiness, you really needed to get a better sleep schedule. Brushing the tears away with your arms, you pushed yourself up, putting aside your weariness and walked back to your cooking station.

It was almost half an hour later, when the doors to the kitchen swung open and you smiled up at Anders as he walked over to you. You were practically done, he had walked in on you smearing the icing on the buns. “They’re fresh out of the oven! Try one!” You offered, cutting him a piece and plating it. “Here, you can top it with whatever you like.” You pointed towards the spread of different sauces and toppings on the table.

“Thank you very much, Miss L/n. And I do appreciate this but sadly I did not come here by my own means.” He says with a soft smile and you unconsciously wipe your hand on a cloth before facing the man with confusion. “Has something happened? Is that why everyone is absent? Does it have something to do with Tony’s daughter? Is she—”

“No, no, no. Mr. Willfard’s daughter is being treated for a broken arm and bruised sides, it’s been confirmed that she will make a full recovery.” He says and you smile gratefully, the worry inside of you lessening, still there but much more eased.

“And about the others, they were given a day off by Mr Potter.” He says and you freeze on the spot. “Oh.”

“Yes, ‘oh.’ and since we are on the topic. Mr. Potter has sent me to inform you that he is expecting you by the pool.”

Your eyes widened and so did your mouth, silent movements of your lips were targeted at Anders out of shock. “Mr. Potter, Mr. Potter? As in James Potter?”

“Are you acquainted with any other ‘James Potter’s?”

“No.” You answered hastily as you your mind racked to why he would want to speak with you and at the top of your head, and like a blaring siren, yesterday’s events shone. “Was he happy when he asked you to call me? Did he ask it in a ‘I just want to talk’ way or more of a ‘I’m going to fire you’ tone.” You asked and you instantly felt smaller under the blank and unimpressed expression Anders gave you.

“If you will follow me – What are you doing?” Anders asks, his brows furrowing and lips frowning. “Plating these! They must be served warm or else they’re not as delicious.” You whisper, rushing around just as quick the thoughts in your head.

He sighs and leans his hands on the table, watching as you took your time to gently pick each roll and delicately place them on a large plate.

Once you're done you move the dirty trays to the sink and wonder if you could buy yourself some time as you scrubbed the pans and dishes.

“Leave those and follow me. I’ll assign someone to do them later.” Anders says and you can’t help but butt in, “But everyone took the day off! Except me.” You mutter the last part in a harsh whisper and sigh, accepting defeat. You grabbed one of the pastry-filled tray and angrily hand it to the butler before grabbing the others.

It almost feels like forever as you followed Anders, your fingers were nervously tapping the silver platter. You took deep breaths and purposely slowed your pace. Anders didn’t even bother to look at you as he led you. You looked around you trying to make out where he’s taking you too. It came as a surprise when you had passed James' office but now you were completely out of the Manor.

“Anders, where are we going?” You asked, Anders didn’t turn to you but did slow down. “To the pool grounds.”

He was going to fire you. You admitted mentally. Should've kept your mouth shut! It is a known, unspoken rule that you should never share your opinions with rich people.

You should treat them like kids, don’t talk to them, don’t get in their squabbles and don’t tell them the truth cause it will make them pissed and emotional and then you will be forced to deal with their tantrums.

However you completely ignored that rule yesterday, when you shared your opinions with Potter of all people. Before you even reach the pool, you hear loud noises and shouts coming from its direction. One very distinctive voice was that of James Potter.

“Miss L/n.” Anders addressed and motioned for you to step ahead of him. You sighed and masked your face before climbing the short stair in quick steps.

The first person you were met with was James. He stood towering over a large group of men that were scattered across the pool yard. James’ is dressed in similar attire to yesterday’s clothing and you almost smile back when he turns to you with a grin. “Mr. Potter.” You greet with a strained tone, placing the tray of buns on a nearby table with harsh clack.

“Oh, how lovely. Anders, please pass them to the workers, will you? And please call me James. How’ve you been?” He asks, still smiling and you're not so sure of what to make of the man.

Anders agrees in his usual formal tone and you watch him with the corner of your eye as he picks up your tray and walks down over to the working men.

“I’m fine?” You reply hesitantly and thankfully he doesn’t notice your questioning tone.

“Well I’m glad. I’m sorry to strip you of your day off, I assure you, you can have tomorrow for yourself.”

Your brows furrowed as you stared at the man, you're quite confused and to add to it you almost feel ridiculous while speaking to him with his sunglasses on. “Take off the shades.” You order in a blank tone and you see James’ posture change as he takes a step back and pulls the accessory off. Before he can get the chance to speak, you cut in, “Are you going to fire me?” You ask, the smile completely wiped off your face. You narrow your eyes at the man and watch as he speaks to you in genuine surprise. “Why would I fire you?”

“Then why am I here?” You asked, your confidence slipping. “I’m not here to fire you,” he laughs, “I just wanted to show you this,” He explains motioning towards the pool. “...I’ve seen the pool before.” You say, this time your confusion is clearly plastered on your face. “I mean this.” He says and he guides to the side of the pool, where three men are potting some Jasmine’s. “You picked Jasmine’s?”

“You said it was one of your favorites, right?” He asked, and you faced him with a look of surprise. “You picked Jasmine’s cause they were one of my favorites?” The older man blushed and he faced you with wide eyes, “No! Yes, but not directly, I just picked them because I guessed they’d have to have been really nice flowers if they were on your favorites list.”

“Okay.” You said, still confused but you sighed and brushed it all away. James watched your face soften as you took a step closer to them. “They are beautiful, aren’t they?” You ask, your eyes trained on the small, delicate, white petals of the flower. “Yeah…and they smell nice too.” You laugh, turning to face him as you lightly throw your head back. “Yeah, that too.” You agree watching a soft smile adorn his face.

“Here,” James says as he walks over behind a table, you watch lean down to grab something and your lips part in awe as he walks over to you with a pot of Jasmine’s. “Mr. Potter, I–” You’re in shock and happiness. They’re is a small sickening feeling in your stomach and you do your best to try and avoid it.

“A thank you,” He says. “And as I said earlier, it’s just James.”

《 NEXT PART 》

Tagging: @sssstarstruck @cloudroomblog @ietss

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hyperfocuscentre · 5 months

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no fanfic in any fandom has ever made me cry the way 90% of marauders fanfics do. idk what these authors put in their soup but it seems they have angst super powers.

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lifeandlies-of-regulusblack · 15 days

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Regulus "you left because you've been wanting to leave me ever since you met potter, I'm your brother but you've always wanted a different one" Black

Sirius "i left because you gave up on me. you left me before i ever could in a house that hated me so much. I lost you before you lost me and i was grieving you all these years" Black

*wow, i can't seem to stop writing about the black brothers. here, have some more.

#regulus black #regulus headcanon #sirius black #sirius black headcanon #the black brothers #marauders era #marauders headcanon #hp marauders #marauders fic #hp fanfiction #hp marauders era #hp fanfic #mwpp #my writing

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jamesunderwater · 1 year

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for the smut prompts 26 and wolfstar please!

Send me Smut Prompts! Thank you for this, anon (': brought joy to my life to write it lol. It did get a little long, and I changed the wording a bit on the line, but...hopefully it's all worth it 😈 26: “i wanna fuck you right against the glass so everyone can see how good you take it”

Show and Tell - majorly NSFW - word count: 3,574

“What was the code again?” Sirius asked Remus, who had only just relayed this information thirty seconds before.

Remus sighed, readjusting Sirius’s large duffle on his shoulder while checking his phone. “3482.”

Sirius punched in the numbers, listened to the sound of the lock whining back, and giddily opened the door to their rental. “We’re here!” He exclaimed as soon as his foot crossed the threshold, spreading his arms wide over his head.

Remus stepped in as easily as possible given the thirty-five pound bag across his chest, pulling along his own compact suitcase behind him. Despite the heft of carrying their luggage several blocks from where they’d parked, a grin spread across his face as he took in their space for the next few days. “It’s really even better in person.”

The front door opened to reveal a warehouse-style studio apartment with high ceilings, wood-paneled floors, and floor to ceiling windows making up the far wall. To their right was a modern industrial-style kitchen, and beyond that, they knew from pictures, was an expansive living room with an L-shaped couch and a large stove fireplace situated in the corner. Finally, the bedroom area included a king bed that they’d both agreed looked nearly double the size of any other king they’d seen and a standing rack on which to hang their clothes. The entire space was likely no larger than 800 square feet, but the wide open windows and twenty foot ceilings made it feel like they owned the entire building. The building itself had once been a fire station but had been renovated into separate studio apartments, which were now rented out to the endless parade of visitors to Brooklyn, New York.

Remus hadn’t even closed the front door before Sirius was darting over to the windows, his face pressed against the glass in childlike awe. “Look at the view, Moony!” He turned to his boyfriend, eyes sparkling. “I can’t believe we’re really here!”

Remus abandoned their bags by the couch in order to join Sirius more quickly. He much preferred to get settled into a new space as soon as he arrived, but he’d learned by now that Sirius’s excitement stopped for nothing.

“I know,” he came up beside the other man, sliding his arm around his waist. Having been to New York City before, Remus simply chose to appreciate Sirius’s wonder at the vibrant place. His bright, exuberant expression still made Remus’s heart beat a little harder at the sight of it. God, he’s beautiful. “I’m glad you’re happy with it,” he said, kissing Sirius’s shoulder.

Sirius hummed happily. “And look! It’s not just the skyline–this place looks down on this whole area!” He waved his hands at the bars and shops situated below them, where people were darting in and out of stores, laughing in groups, sipping fresh coffees as they walked. It was only 7pm; Remus couldn’t imagine what the streets might look like in a few hours, when the bars really started getting going.

“So what should we do first, then?” He asked, bumping Sirius’s hip with his own to get his attention. Sirius turned his gray eyes back to their apartment, which he’d spent only about .025 seconds looking at before.

“Holy shit, this bed,” he walked over to it, and Remus followed. “It really is gargantuan.”

“You still going to cuddle me even if you could have fifteen feet of space to yourself for once?”

Sirius turned to him and grabbed Remus by the shirt, pulling him to him. “I’d sleep in your lap if you’d let me, and you know it,” he grinned, eyes glancing at Remus’s lips. After three years together, it was ridiculous that this still made Remus’s stomach jump.

“Right now I’m thinking of other things you could do in my lap,” Remus replied coyly, sliding both arms around Sirius’s waist. He watched as Sirius bit his lip.

“I’ve had a few ideas myself since seeing this place,” Sirius’s eyes seemed to flick back and forth between Remus’s eyes and lips, and even a few seconds into flirting, Remus could feel Sirius growing against his thigh. Not that he could talk, of course.

“Oh? Are you going to share with the class?”

Sirius pretended to think on this a moment. “Mm… I’m more of a show and tell kid, really.” Biting his lip again– he knew how much that drove Remus crazy –Sirius slid the hand holding Remus’s shirt down to his pants, where his growing dick twitched at the feeling of Sirius’s fingers gliding over his jeans. Remus let out an involuntary breath, a finger hooking around one of the loops in Sirius’s pants to pull him fully against him.

“And did I tell you you could start show and tell, Mr. Black?”

Sirius quirked his eyebrow, picking up on the mood quickly, as he usually did. “I’m not one for obeying rules, Mr. Lupin.”

Read the rest on AO3.

#wolfstar #wolfstar smut #wolfstar fic #wolfstar fanfiction #sirius black #remus lupin #remus x sirius #sirius x remus #the marauders #mwpp era #marauders fanfiction #mwpp fanfiction #my writing #smut prompts #wolfstar*#smut*

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literallytoogaytofunction · 23 days

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"I don't think that's how you use the slider-"

✨ Wolfstar as that one photo of Bowie and Ronson ✨

✧₊⁺

(close-ups and full ((half-arsed)) background under cut)

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kat-xox · 8 months

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rosekiller.

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my-castles-crumbling · 3 months

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after - @wolfstarmicrofic - word count: 82

Remus was a good student.

Or, he tried to be, at least.

He worked hard to pay attention. To focus. To take notes and listen to the professors.

But when Sirius Black sent him a smirk and a perfectly-penned note that said:

Meet me in the broom closet on the third floor after class as soon as you can. I can't stop thinking about last night. -S

Well, would you be able to think about the finer properties of boomslang skin?

No.

You wouldn't.

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rweoutofthewoods · 2 months

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Worst Case Kid James’ POV is here!

forgive my lack of a fancy post it’s 4am I’ll do one with a snippet or some pics or something tmr, but pls accept this in the meantime.

#jegulus #marauders #fanfic #james potter #regulus black #ao3 #mwpp #the marauders #starchaser #sunseeker #regulus x james #james x regulus #jegulus fic #jegulus fanfic #jegulus fanfiction #dead gay wizards #hp marauders #harry potter #marauders fanfiction

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nettedtangible · 5 months

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*Pulls out two bottles of whisky* LET'S GET CANON DIVERGENT UP IN THIS BITCH

#marauders #wolfstar #jegulus #mwpp #harry potter marauders #marauders fanfiction #sirius black #remus lupin #james potter #peter pettigrew #marauders fic #jily #dorlene #marylily #pandalily #rosekiller

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that-bitch-kat3 · 2 days

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a letter to petunia

This is more Lily and Petunia nonsense that I wrote the other night. This one is a letter that Lily wrote to Petunia when the Potters went into hiding. My AO3 is here if you are interested.

Petunia,

I don't think that you will ever have to read this but I'm writing it just in case. If you are reading this it means that the worst has happened, and for that I am sorry. I'm also sorry for all the things that I have left unsaid, and for all the broken pieces of us that I will never be able to piece back together, but there are some things that I want you to know.

The first is that I love you. I know that we haven't been close in years, and likely we never will be but I need you to know that I never stopped loving you. You were there for me and protected me when we were small. I know we were forced to grow up too fast and I know that you tried to shield me from that. You shouldn't have had to do that.

I know we fought but when I think of you I remember the happy days of our childhood. The summer days were spent at the neighborhood pool, or riding our bikes by the creek. I miss those days and everything that came with them. I miss when we loved each other out in the open, when you were the other half of me, completing me in a way only a sister could.

I know I didn't do enough, and I know that I left you in that house. I'm sorry. I don't regret doing it because it led me to who I am. It led me to James and brought me Harry but I am sorry that there wasn't a way that I could find myself and not lose you.

When we were young I thought you were the most beautiful person in the world and I hope that one day you will be able to look back at our childhood and see yourself the way that I saw you. Beautiful and brave.

This war that I got myself caught up in is terrifying, and I can't let you get caught in the crossfire, but Pet I'm scared. I'm scared that I'll die and my life won't mean anything. I'm scared that I lost you for nothing. I'm scared that every terrible thing I thought about me, and you, and us is true.

I know that you pushed me away because you were scared. Scared of us being different, and scared of losing me. I know because I pushed you away for the same reasons. I forgive you for what you've said and what you've done and I hope one day you will be able to forgive me.

If you get this letter it means that I'm dead which means that James and Harry are too. I want you to know that if I'm gone and they are too you are the last piece of me. I think that you'd be sad if that happened because I would be sad if I lost you again, but I don't want you to be sad forever. I mean to be sad for a little bit, you know I always loved the attention, but don't be forever.

Go and live and be happy. Find what it is in life that makes your heart sing and do that, and when he is old enough I hope that you will tell Dudley about me. Tell him about your magical sister who you sometimes hated but who always loved you. Tell him that I loved him even though I never met him, and tell him how good you were back then. And then tell yourself that even though everything is broken you were always enough for me.

All of my love,

Lily Potter

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yrluvjane · 1 year

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|𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐍𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐓𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐁𝐥𝐞𝐝|

— James Potter x fem!reader

Summary: The night of Voldemort's attack on the Potters.

Rain hammered with furious strikes, coating the ground with dirty muddy water. Thunder and lightning illuminated the sky and threatened those below them with painful death.

Uncontrollable power and fear infected the air of Godrics Hollow. Though they could not see it, the residents of the streets felt it.

But even with these conditions, it didn't stop the youngsters from wandering the streets for treats and tricking their neighbours.

James Potter sat with his son Harry, who had his hands pressed against the cold window. His breath fogged the glass as he gaped and traced the drops of rain.

"Hey buddy," James said as he held his three-year-old son and placed him on his shoulder, rubbing his back soothingly.

Harry shivered and then sneezed from the cold. "Why don't we go sit with mommy where it's warm, mmmh?" He said as the young boy shook his head up and down.

James chuckled with Harry clapping his small hands they made their way to the couch facing the fireplace.

There sat his wife with a children's book and their daughter in her arms. "Love," James called. He kissed her temple and sat next to her, warmth draping over him like a blanket while Harry sneezed once more at the change in temperature and made grabby hands at his mum.

"Hi," She replied, kissing James cheek before readjusting her seat and handing their daughter to James and taking Harry in her arms; leaning back on her husband's shoulder.

"It's little past your bedtime, rebelling tonight, are we?" She teased, booping his nose as little Harry giggled.

"Stowy," Harry said as he wiggled in his mother's grasp for a more comfortable position.

"A story. What do you think James, should we entertain our little audience?" She asked as her husband put an arm around her shoulder and tickled Harry's neck while placing a kiss on his daughter's head.

"Why not?" James said as Harry laughed uncontrollably, trying to remove his dad's fingers from the back of his ears.

A roar of lightning rang, causing both their kids' faces to scrunch up a sign that they were about to cry, James and his wife immediately began to comfort the little kids by soothingly rubbing their back. "It's okay, baby. It's okay. We're right here." James's voice came as a soft whisper as he rocked their daughter and gently patted her back.

His wife, on the other hand, was pushing Harry's black curls back and rubbing her nose with his. "Who's my little prince charming?" She cooed, peppering his face in kisses as Harry giggled, trying to push his mum's face away. "Mama," he whined, "tick-ow."

"Tickles?" James repeated amused, happy that his daughter's sniffles have ceased and the little raven haired girl was now soundlessly laying on his chest and playing with his fingers.

Harry nodded. "Stowy, now?"

"What type of story would you like, Harry?"

"That one!" He said excitedly, pointing at a small discarded muggle fairytale book as his parents chuckled. The little girl on James's chest faced to where her brother was pointing and made little grabbing gestures before sucking on her thumb.

"Okay." Mum said as she raised her wand, and the lights dimmed, allowing the dark room to light up with her magic as the book levitated from the ground. Harry happily began to clap while his sister started shifting in her place to try and catch the book.

Just as the book opened, Harry’s eyes widened, and he yelled that he needed to get his teddy from his bed; earning a light scolding from his mother for shouting and scaring his sister.

Once he returned and settled down, small illusions began to form around them, displaying a vivid scene of a man carving in his workshop. "Long ago in Italy, there lived on old clock-maker named Geppetto; when he worked, Geppetto felt happy."

"But when he rested, a sad feeling came over him. “Ah!” he would think. “All my life and no child to call my own!” So, one day, Geppetto carved a puppet from wood in the shape of a boy."

"Pineappwe!" Harry exclaimed as James barked out laugh whilst his wife groaned, no matter how much his wife tried to get Harry to understand Pinocchio and pineapples were two different things, Harry insisted on them being the same.

"It's Pinocchio, Harry."

"Pineappwe" protested the younger Potter with a mischievous grin, which he most definitely got from his father.

"If his highness says it's pineapple, then it's pineapple." James said, his laugh dying out. "Don't encourage him." His wife pressed pointedly. "You know muggles like to say that that the firstborn child always takes after their mum." James commented.

"Really, is that why he has your face?" His wife retorted with a scoff. "Oh c'mon, you too are insistent on having your way."

"I'm not, if anyone is persistent it's you."

"Yes, you do, but it's okay because I love you." James kissed her cheek as she faced him with amused brows and parted lips. "I'm sorry, who keeps spoiling the kids with unnecessary toys and gifts?"

"Those aren't 'unnecessary'! They're educational!" James defends facing his son, "Right, Prongslet?"

Harry, who was too busy flipping the pages on the forgotten book, nodded absentmindedly.

"And I quite remember you and Lily rambling about some Halter Beanstien and I very much remember Remus saying that he said 'Play is the highest source of research' and I am very sure you said that he was kne of the smartest people in history."

"Do you mean Albert Einstein?" His wife asked as she broke into laughter. "Don't laugh at me. It's not my fault that muggle names are strange."

"Right cause 'Albus Dumbledore' is such a normal name."

"You know, I spoil you as much as I do them. Maybe even more." James says, stroking his wife's hands, his thumb circling the simple looking yet priceless silver band with diamonds engraved in it. He leaned down and placed a small peck at each of her fingers before facing her again.

"If anyone spoils anyone, it's me spoiling you." His love states quietly not disturb their daughter, who was now falling a sleep. "Oh, do you?" James asks, intrigued as she inches her face close to his and placing a soft kiss to his lips, which seems enough to have him dizzy. "Mmmh, spoiling you with my kisses."

Another kiss.

"And delicious cooking."

Another kiss and James is very much dizzy and hot.

"And my daily complements that feed that monstrous ego of yours." She says with a final kiss and pulls back, revealing her cheeky smirk.

"Did you really have to ruin the moment? And B, I do not have a 'monstrous' ego."

"James, my love, you have a life-size cut out of yourself in our son's bedroom."

"It was a present from Padfoot, and Harry loves it!" James whispers harshly at his wife's amused and narrowed eyes, "Does he though?"

"You're jealous of the kids' love for me, it's obvious they love me more." James states proudly, looking at both his kids who were both snoring peacefully.

"I think it's time we get your sight checked out," His wife says as she picks up Harry and gets up. "You're obviously missing something."

It's James turn to scoff as he places a gentle hand under his daughter's tiny legs and one on her back; following the woman up the stairs and into the kids' bedrooms.

After his son's been tucked in his bed and his daughter in her crib, and after three minutes of giving everyone their respective kisses and good-night's, both Lord and Lady Potter are laying down peacefully on their bed, their arms, lovingly wrapped around each other.

His wife's hand intertwined with his. His glasses were off, and all he could see were blurred colours. His fingers drew lazy alphabets and shapes on her hand.

A small lamp filled the room in a dimmed yellow glow that James was still unsure of how it worked but learned to not question muggle objects after waking up in the middle of the night for a snack only to find the refrigerator grumbling at him. And another lessoned learned was to not ask his partner cause she had spent a good week laughing at him every time she saw his face. Which made James pissed cause his wife was laughing at him when he was being threatened by her things.

It was little moments like this that James and her cherished, thousands of words dancing in between spoken only by little actions like looking into each other eyes, little touches of reassurance, watching the kids while they slept. These little moments were what reminded the couple what they were fighting for.

However, all good things must come to an end, James quickly dropped his wife's hand, sat up straight, and hurriedly slotted on his glasses. "James?" His wife's worried voice came as she stood and grabbed her wand. "He's here!" James exclaimed, a furious expression on his face despite the small crack in his voice.

His wife stared at him in shock, lips trembling in fear before darting out of the room. She quickly rushed into her daughters room, grabbed the sleeping babe, and headed to her sons room. "Harry, wake up!"

The three year-old only stirred in his sleep, mumbling to himself. She gasped and let a small yelp when she felt the ward shake, knowing they wouldn't hold for long. She quickly grabbed Harry by the waist and ran to the guest room. There lied a large cabinet, decorated in delicate little carvings.

"Harry, sweetie, you need to wake up now."

She quickly opening the doors to the cabinet with magic and placed the kids in it, she summoned a large stack of pre-written letter and placed it with them. At this Harry's eyes began to flutter open, "Mama?"

"Hey, Haz." She whispered softly, her eyes burned as hot tears rolled down her cheek. "Why mama cwy?" He asked, his eyes wide as he tried to reach for her only for her to push him back and take in a shaky breath. "Harry, me and dad love you and your sister so so m-much! And one day we need you to tell your sister that."

"We wove you and Daddy too." He stated with unsure eyes as his little brows furrowed.

"We know darling, but now I'm sending you to Uncle Padfoot, okay? These are letters me and your dad wrote for you and your sister to read when you're all big and strong." She said, wiping her tears hastily. Her voice broke as she saw Harry begin to cry as though he was understanding the situation.

"Mama-"

"I have to go now, but remember that we love you so much, say hi to Uncle Padfoot and Moony for us, okay." She grabbed Harry's head and placed a wet kiss on his forehead and one on her daughters, who was, thankfully, still asleep.

"Mama! MAMA!" Harry screamed as she shut the door to the cabinet with shaking hands and began whispering the incantation required. She could hear James yelling for her as he ran up the stairs, rushing from door to door.

Once done, she opened the doors to the cabinet and made sure it was empty. She gasped as James ran in his eyes darting to the cabinet. "You have to go with them! We've talked about this!" James yelled loudly, running his fingers through his hair. He ran over to his wife and grabbed her shoulders, shaking her violently. "This isn't a joke!"

"I know that, James! How can you you say that?!" She yelled back, The feeling of the wards James placed crumbling by the force of the dark lord's magic was like a painful pinch on her back. "Please, I beg of you." The proud Ex-Gryffindor was nothing if not confident, and seeing him scared and truly worried sparked a strong, anxious feeling of fear that caused an involuntary sob to bubble out.

She didn't want them to die, not today, and not like this. And seeing her broken state, James hugged her. The loud blasts and threats from the dark lord made him wince and tighten his hold on her, knowing this was most likely the last time he'll ever see her.

This was it. They both thought.

"Incendio" His wife whispered and James watched in horror as a blast of fire erupted from her wand and hit the vanishing cabinet, a fire bloomed and began eating at the wood and in that moment the house shook signalling the Dark Lord's broken through.

"He'll know. He'll know where they are, James. W-we have to..." She took a deep breath and pulled away, "I know." James finished they both stood in front of each other and raised their wands, the end of it touching each other's temples.

The sound of heavy steps on the stairs taunted them, "You can no longer run or hide, Potters!" His voice so hollow and demanding, "I will take what I came for! AND NONE OF YOU CAN STOP ME!" The threat was enough to wake them up. Determination sparked in them as Voldemort blasted the door to one of the bedrooms.

A small, hypnotic, whispy, bluish white light began to form at the end of their wands. What looked like a thin string began to unthread and slowly evaporate into the air. "I love you now and later." James whispered as small tears rolled down his cheek, and a tiny bittersweet smile played on his lips.

"Now and later." Lady Potter repeated as she reached for his hand and squeezed it in reassurance, but at that moment, their pain dispersed and was soon replaced with relaxation as their saddened expressions morphed into one of confusion,

the sound of another blast made them turn towards the door. The two strangers looked at each other in shock and raised their joined hands, dropping their wands. The small wooden sticks clattered as they fell to the ground, and the smell of burning wood finally began to intoxicate the air.

"Who are you?" The bespectacled man asked before she could answer an explosion so powerful caused both of them to be thrown towards the wall. The fire began to spread across the room, claiming a small carpet as its first victim as the dark lord entered.

His blood-like red eyes wandered to where the couple lay on the ground before darting all over the room looking for the children. This was the last room in the house, and there was no sign of the young heirs.

At his anger, his magic crackled around him, he could hear faint sirens of the muggle response team and the yells and shouts of the neighbours. He marched to the couple, his eyes twitching in fury as he stared at their motionless bodies and where their hands lay loosely on top of each other.

The logical part of him knew that he shouldn't kill them, that he should take them and torture them for information of their kids' whereabouts but his emotions drowned that part of him, he raised at his hand at where their hand's rested and sneered at the display of their love even when they were about to die and uttered two words that would change the story of The Potters forever.

Chapter two: The Day it Dawned

Tagging: @sssstarstruck @cloudroomblog

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