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#sirius black fluff imagine
rosieandthethorns · 4 months
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i don't WANT to read smut right now
i WANT to read a passionate, poetic, jaw dropping, tears streaking down my face, heart wrenching, giggle inducing, feet kicking, cringy yet amazing, gorgeous story written by someone who apologizes for english not being their first language(they're the best writers ever) which has 4 chapters and then makes me scream because it hasnt been updated in months and the author is mia
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sunnami · 2 months
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❝i am half-agony, half-hope. . . i have loved none but you.❞
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summary: how the marauders loved you in their time. featuring harry potter the time-traveller and sixth-wheel.
pairing/s: poly!marauders x reader. (james potter x reader, lily evans x reader, remus lupin x reader, and sirius black x reader.)
tags: reader is referred to as she/her and a mother throughout the whole fic[!], reader is a violent gremlin who craves blood but the marauders love you for that, implied child abuse[!], mentions of blood and violence[!], disgustingly sappy poetic fluff, no angst, happy ending, not proofread we die like finnick odair, edited: very minor detail.
note: there is little plot, it’s just the marauders and their adoration for you. thank you all so much for your kind responses to my first marauders fic :(( ilysm! i hope you enjoy this one as well! because there are parts when i was writing that i ended up kicking my feet in the air and smiling to myself.
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“MY NAME IS HARRY POTTER. I come from twenty-years in the future, you’re my mum — one of my ‘em, actually. It’s complicated. And you’re married to James Potter, Remus Lupin, and Sirius Black.” 
You blink. 
“Get the fuck out of my room!” 
Harry James Potter has dodged many things in his life. Killing curses, jinxes, girls, Draco Malfoy, and Dudley’s sloppy punches, but he’s never had to dodge his sixteen-year-old mother’s fuzzy slipper before. (Godric, that sounds weird, even in his head.) He doesn’t know precisely how he arrived here. In the Slytherin common room, to be exact, in your dorm. Harry remembers duelling with Death Eaters, Hermione calling his name, and a flash of light hitting him square in the chest, then he remembers waking up in the cold tiles of the snake dungeon. He nearly throws himself off the window when he meets your eyes, bleary from interrupted sleep — it’s not often he gets to meet [read: one of] his dead parents, after all, three had been brutally murdered by Voldemort, and one killed by his own loony cousin. He misses Sirius, though. A lot. And right about now, he could do with some of Hermione’s nagging and brilliant plan-making. 
At present — or past, Harry guesses — he watches you scramble out from your duvet, hand clumsily reaching for your wand as you snarl at him. He wonders if his mother knows that he’s encountered other creatures far more threatening than her. Oh shit, he realizes with all the forces of an angry Hermione Granger, isn’t this the last thing he’s supposed to do? But, well, Harry has given, and given, so much of himself all for the greater good — just this once, he’d like to see his parents alive and well. Even if they were currently trying to blast him into the walls. 
“If you’d just let me explain, mum—!” Harry pleads, nearly dropping his glasses after dodging one of your stinging hexes. Godric, you’re crazy. “Please!” 
“Stop calling me that!” You screech, eyes set ablaze.  Harry finds that you’re quite dynamic with your attacks. A hairbrush, followed by a stinging jinx, then a thick History of Magic textbook — which rudely hits him in the face, but he doesn’t dare complain because you’re his mother, and he’s respectful like that — and after you’ve exhausted your breath, running him into a corner, and your nostrils flare with the stubbornness of a lion, you point the tip of your wand at him. “If this is another one of the Prewett’s shitty pranks, I want you to leave! You are in the girls’ dormitory beyond midnight, and so help me, if you aren’t walking out that door in the next five seconds, I will kill you and string you up by your bottoms for everyone in school to see! Maybe all your stupid rumours of me being a Death-Eater might come true after all!” 
“You’re a Death-Eater?” Harry asks dumbly. 
You growl furiously, and Harry figures that was not the right thing to say. “I wonder what McGonagall would say if I delivered your head to her on a silver platter.” 
“Professor,” Harry corrects with a toothy grin. “Professor McGonagall.” 
You slam his head against the wall.
Definitely the wrong thing to say. 
Harry groans, little Dobby heads floating around his vision. Why was this so much harder than actually facing Voldemort? Quick, he needed to think of something, otherwise he’d end up eviscerated to ashes on your cold, stone floors. Harry is pretty sure you’d use his remains as decoration to send off a message to your enemies. 
“You hate your father,” Harry slurs through the pain, remembering Remus’s stories of how you were the gentlest magical being he’s ever had the privilege to love — now that Harry thinks about it, Remus was being extremely biased, nothing about you is gentle at all. “He’s forcing you to marry someone old enough to be your grandfather. You love to read Muggle literature but had to stop when your father burnt your whole collection of books. Your favorite novel is Persuasion by Jane Austen. It’s the one book you carry with you everywhere, you could never get tired of it.”  
Your grip on his shoulders falters, but the fury in your eyes crackles. “This isn’t funny.” 
“It’s not meant to be funny, mum,” Harry croaks, voice cracking pathetically — strange how this is the most he’s ever uttered the word, mum; it’s a peculiar string of letters, foreign on his tongue. “You have tremors in your left leg from when your father cast the Cruciatus curse on you. One of your dearest friends is a Hogwarts house-elf named Pipley. You cheated on your Transfiguration essay once, and—” 
“That’s enough!” You bark, eyes narrowed in dangerous slits. “I don’t know where you heard those from, you creepy, little stalker, but if you want to keep breathing, then I suggest you shut up.” 
Harry scoffs — you don’t understand. Everything he’s learned about you is from Sirius and Remus. They talk about you with whispered devotion, your name like a prayer on their lips, their eyes glazed with wistfulness as though they could see you reaching out for them — but you were dead in Harry’s time. Yet, you might as well have been alive with their tales of you. 
(“She’s a different kind of beautiful,” Sirius had said, a year after breaking out from Azkaban, sitting by the fire in Grimmauld Place, taking a swig of decade-old firewhiskey, “The kind of beautiful you don’t want to take your eyes off from because you’re afraid she’ll disappear from your eyes. But you won’t forget her, oh no, you’ll memorize the freckles and moles on her skin, the scars from her years, the light in her eyes, and the way she holds her head up high. You should have seen her, James, she. . . she was — is glorious.”) 
“I told you,” says Harry firmly — although he loves his mother very much, she’s beginning to wear him out, “My name is Harry James Potter, I come from twenty-years in the future. You are one of my parents.” A lightbulb flashes in his head. He squirms in your hold, reaching for his robe pocket until he finds the thing he’s looking for. Harry dangles the ring in front of you, grinning in success when your eyes flash in recognition. “It’s—” 
“A family heirloom,” You say breathlessly. The alexandrite winks under the light, a familiar gold band with the Latin inscription of your House words. “Where did you steal this from?” 
Harry rolls his eyes. “You left it for me in my Gringotts vault. It’s my heirloom now. You have to believe me, there’s no way you can deny this.” 
You take a step backwards, nibbling on your lower lip, as you stagger to your bed — Harry nearly stumbling to catch you in case you fell; adjusting to the living proof of time travel was quite difficult, he, of all people, should know. He exhales, dragging a hand down his face. “Magic, amirite?” 
You throw a pillow at him, which he catches gracefully thanks to his Seeker reflexes, as you plop down in the comforts of your quilts. “Sleep. The other girls won’t be back until the end of the holiday. We can deal with whatever this is in the morning. It’s way too early for me to process the idea of a future Potter spawn following me around.” 
Harry smiles. “Yes, mum.” 
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ONE THING THAT his fathers failed to tell him about you, and that Harry had to learn himself, was that you took ages to get ready. You sat on the chair in front of your vanity mirror, the birch wood legs whittled with snakes, and it was as though you had a Sticking Charm on the cushion. Harry didn’t know there could be so many creams, oils, and serums, and powders one put on their face. He blanches when you turn to offer him a cream for his under eyes. (“Suit yourself.” You shrug, turning to brush your cheek with dusts of pink. “Just saying, those dark circles aren’t doing you any favors.”)
“What am I like in the future?” You ask, a kind lilt to your voice, much like a warm hug, much like home. 
Harry stiffens, shoving his hands in pockets of the robes that were twice his size — you had given him the garments of Lucius Malfoy to change in, which you apparently had stolen from his room. It’s come full circle, really, the Sorting Hat had once told him he would be great in Slytherin, and now here he was, looking fabulous in green — because he was about to hurl at the feel of the velvet on his skin, knowing slimy Lucius Malfoy had worn it. (“No son—” You pause with a tight purse in your lips, as if you still can’t accept the fact. Harry doesn’t blame you. “—no son of mine will be parading around in red of all colors, future or not.” And Harry finds that he really doesn’t care, so long as you call him your son.)  
“Loved,” replies Harry gruffly, avoiding your eyes in the reflection of your mirror — they were piercing. One look and Harry wanted to spill all of his deepest, darkest secrets. He remembers the photographs in his album, the one he’s stared at so many times as a child. It’s a moving photograph of the five of you, fresh out of Hogwarts, each wearing a smile that stretched from ear-to-ear. Before Sirius and Remus, it was the only semblance of proof that Harry had — that you had once been alive. Remus is holding you by the waist in the picture, twirling you around as autumn leaves fell. You were — are — loved, and Harry thinks there’s no better description than that. 
(“I bloody hated her cat,” says Remus with a roguish quirk to his lips, regalling Harry with more talks of his parents. “Sirius, too. We just never got along with the little creature. But your mother loved it, and we would have done anything to make her happy. She deserved it, you see. She deserved more than what I had to offer her, but still she chose me anyway. And I am a selfish man, Harry, I crave glimpses of her and the whispers of her voice. She has made me a mad man whose only reprieve is her touch.”) 
You hum knowingly. “Stupid question, I guess. Since you aren’t allowed to reveal anything more about the future.” You sigh, gracefully threading your arms in the sleeves of your shirt, a green tie in the center of your collar. “Except, of course, when you gave me a heart attack in the middle of the night by telling me the last thing I want to become — no offense, I just don’t see how a relationship with those rowdy bunch would work. They get on my nerves far too much for me to ever feel anything other than disgust.” 
Harry doesn’t need a mirror to see that his expression has contorted in confusion; brows knitted and upper lip crinkled. By their memories of you, you all were madly in love in Hogwarts. Damn. This just made his trip to the past a lot harder. No maze seems to be ever just a maze. 
Luckily, you don’t notice him brewing a grand master plan to bring his parents together. Instead, you say, “But you don’t seem to be phased by any of this. If I had been thrown twenty years into the past, I would have puked my guts out twice at some point.” 
“Thanks for the image,” says Harry with a scowl. Truthfully, it had either been a present with a noseless Dark Lord to face, trauma to unpack but really never have the chance to, or a past where all of his parents were alive, and a chance to talk with them for however long he has. He knows where he’ll be staying, thank you very much. 
“Anytime,” You reply with an impish smile. 
Your heels pad across the floor as you walk over to him, mouth clicking as you pat the top of his head, full of wild, untameable Potter hair. “You need a trim soon,” You mutter, frowning, as you brush the thick strands away from his eyes, then you gasp — and Harry knows exactly what’s coming next. “Oh, you’ve got Evans’s eyes. That’s freaky.” 
“I know.” Harry grins. 
“Here’s the plan,” You say as you lead him out of your room, making sure no one saw him walking out of your door and getting the wrong impression — because that would be so wrong on many levels, but also, explaining to someone else that the person beside you was a time-traveller was just complicated in general. The Slytherin dungeon is unfamiliarly familiar, eerily quiet, as the two of you made your way out. “Just say you’re Potter’s distant relative, twice or thrice removed, and you’ve always been here. If you lie to their faces enough, they’ll believe it eventually.” 
“Will that work?” Harry doesn’t really mind — he needs a connection to James, his father, if he’s going to work out a connection between you and the others, because at the moment, it doesn’t seem like you’re too fond of them. There’s a tick on your jaw every time you mumble the word, Potter. Nevertheless, Harry decides he’s going to spend the duration of the holiday break trying to set you up with them — on the list of most insane things he’s ever done, living out the Parent Trap was high up the tally. 
You shrug. “They’ve fallen for less.” 
(“She’s got this adorable habit when she lies,” Sirius tells Harry, whipping up a stack of pancakes for their breakfast — Remus browsing through the morning paper. It’s the closest he’s ever been to a normal family. “It’s not obvious to her, of course, but I know her more than I know my own name. So we play along with it.” For a moment, he stops drizzling the maple syrup on the well-cooked batter, gazing at Remus fondly. “D’you remember that, Moony? She led us straight to one of her pranks, and we ended up covered in slug slime. She was so obvious — with her adorable fucking giggles. I need help with Charms, she said, and we knew right away it was a set-up. But it didn’t matter. I’d happily let her lead me to my ruin.”)  
The Great Hall is the same as Harry remembers. Now that most have returned home for the holidays, those who stay back mingle with students from other Houses, sharing meals under the bewitched ceiling, their low murmurs and hushed Christmas greetings bouncing off the walls. Harry scours the four tables to find a hint of blazing red hair, or the scent of impending trouble. Fortunately, he doesn’t have to search very far. As fate would have it, James Potter finds you — and where he is, Sirius Black is sure to follow. 
You’re barely seated when James comes bounding over to your table — more precisely, he struts, and Harry is horrified to ever be proven wrong by Snape, of all people. He ignores the roll of your eyes as he drags a leg over the bench, sitting to face you as Sirius occupies the space to your left before Harry can even sit down. He can’t even fathom how weird it is to see his parents as rambunctious teenagers. Lovesick, rambunctious teenagers. 
“Morning, dove.” James preens under your glare, stealing a grape from your bowl with a boyish smirk. His hair looks as though he’s ran his hand through it many times. “You look ravishing today.” 
“As always,” Sirius pipes in. “But that eyeshadow really isn’t complementing your skin tone, my darling.” 
You smile at him, right before your lips twist into a cutthroat sneer. “Piss off, Black.”
James stifles a laugh as he shovels a mass of potatoes on your plate, then pumpkin pasties, and slides a steaming cup of Dragon Well tea in front of you. 
“What the hell are you doing, Potter?” You reach over to smack his arm when he sprinkles apple slices and bacon on your breakfast. 
“What does it look like?” James smiles lopsidedly. “You need to eat more, honey.”
(In the future, Sirius will tell Harry, “It started off as a joke, a way to get on her nerves — but then, it just became this thing about taking care of her, making sure she got enough sleep before her tests, wondering if she had breakfast or dinner, staying with her in the library, walking her to the Slytherin common room, and sending her stupid notes just to make her laugh. You don’t get it, Harry. I’d give my every breath to ensure her life. We all would.” Harry doesn’t see Sirius any more during that evening, but he hears a bottle crashing against a wall, cracking into a million pieces, and the masked sound of Sirius sobbing, and Harry decides to leave him alone for the night.) 
Then, you tear your eyes away from James — he huffs, pushing your plate to you, mildly annoyed that you’ve deprived him of your eyes; they were his favorite part of you, you see, so expressive and full of life; James thinks you put the stars to shame — and thankfully, you remember that Harry still exists. You lightly smack Sirius’s leg until he gives Harry some room to sit. “Potter, meet other Potter. It’s the holidays, shouldn’t it be the perfect time to let go of House prejudices and spend time with family?” 
James looks at Harry up and down. “You must be from dad’s side of the family with all that hair.” 
Harry lets out a breath of relief. That was easy — way too easy. When he takes the vacant space in between you and Sirius, you dump all the available food on his plate, just as James had done for you. 
“Eat,” You say with a tone of finality. “You look like the wind could snap you in half.” 
“Yes, m—” Harry stops himself before he could finish his sentence, avoiding Sirius’s curious gaze. 
“Wow.” Sirius pokes Harry in the shoulder and in the cheek. “You really look like a mini-James, you’ve even got his terrible eyesight.” 
“Oi!” 
Your fork clatters against the silverware as you turn to Sirius with a shrill. “Not that I do enjoy your company — because, trust me, I do not want you here at all and would very much prefer if you got out of my sight — but why are you here? The Gryffindor table is over there. Unless your housemates finally got sick of you, Potter, which I can definitely see happening.” 
James chuckles, tossing another grape in his mouth without taking his eyes off you. “It’s as you said, isn’t it? It’s the time for putting aside House prejudices. And I think it’s a lovely day to enjoy a meal with my favorite snake.” 
“Drop dead,” You retort, digging into your chicken with a little more force than necessary. 
“Oh, dove.” James shakes his head, a teasing grin pulling at his lips. “It’s cute that you think death will keep me from you.” 
(Harry’s been told before, probably by Sirius, that this line had been wedged into his wedding vows for you. “A dramatic one, James was,” Sirius chuckles to himself one morning, Harry and Hermione listening intently, “He always said he’d rather die than ever hurt her. There was this time in seventh year, they had a fight — it was ugly — and she had ignored him for a week. James cried in Remus’s arms begging him to cut his heart out, saying that he didn’t deserve to keep on breathing, not after making you cry.”) 
“That is so creepy,” You say in disgust, scrunching your nose. Sirius chortles at your side. “I still wonder why Evans agreed to go out with you.” 
“It’s all part of the charm, dove.” James winks. “It’s all part of the charm.” 
Harry wants to barf, actually.
After breakfast, James then decides to introduce Harry to Lily, Remus, and Peter. (He’s gonna need the patience of a saint to not Avada Kedavra that rat on the spot.) Harry had spent the whole morning watching Sirius peel oranges and give them to you with a smitten look in his eyes — naturally, you gave whatever Sirius offered you to Harry, and each time Padfoot would visibly wilt. If he were in his Animagus form, Harry thinks he would be whining by now, tongue out and all. James and Sirius follow after you like lost puppies when you extricate yourself from the table.
“Where are you going?” James calls, hot on your heels as you leave the Great Hall.
“Away from you, Potter!” 
And James actually sighs when you turn the corner and disappear from their peripheral vision. Seconds later, he turns to Harry with a blinding smile, “She’s definitely charmed.”
Harry chortles.
“Well, come on then!” James guffaws as he wraps an arm around Harry’s neck — this is so, so strange. They begin walking in the opposite direction of where you went. “I still can’t believe we’ve got another Potter here and in Slytherin. I think I would have remembered Minnie calling your name during the Sorting Ceremony. What year are you in?” 
He’s supposed to start his sixth-year in a few weeks. “Fifth.” Technically. 
“We should ask Lily,” says Sirius, hands in his pockets and ebony ringlets tickling his nape. “She’s got the best memory out of all of us.”
It’s odd, Harry thinks, meeting the person who’s got his eyes — or the other way around, as people have told him. It’s like someone carved out the emeralds of Lily Evans’s eyes and bestowed it upon Harry for safekeeping. She sits beside Remus Lupin, head resting on his shoulder, hands clasped together, as they enjoy the shade. Nex to them, oblivious to their intimate conversation, is Peter Pettigrew — with his rosy, cherub cheeks and innocent blue eyes; not at all the image of a pathological, cowardly liar. Their heads snap in attention as James boisterously cries for their name. 
“Marauders — and Lily-pad — meet ickle Potter.” James lightheartedly whacks Harry on the back, to which Harry feels his lungs spill out from his mouth, he’s sure there’s an imprint of his father’s hand on his back now. 
“There’s two Potters in Hogwarts?” Sea-green eyes look at him in scrutiny as Lily knits her brows. “How even is the castle still standing?” 
James cackles like it’s the best joke he’s ever heard in his entire life, slapping his knee for dramatic effect. Oh, well, at least they’re buying Harry’s half-baked lie. At this point, it’s not even baked, it’s just wet, soggy, and poorly done. “Good one, Lily-pad!”
Sirius ruffles Remus’s shaggy blonde hair, canines bared in a wide grin. “This one here’s Moony, uptight prefect in the morning and absolute beast in the evening.” 
Harry blanches. Surely he was talking about his furry problem, right? Right? 
Remus doesn’t even flinch, just peels off Sirius’s hand from him and extends his hand out to Harry. “Please do not mind him. Remus Lupin, nice to meet you. Although, I can’t believe this is the first time we’ve met. We would have definitely remembered if we had another Potter in our midst.” 
“It’s true, we Potters are just hard to forget,” says James, smiling cheekily. 
Harry pokes the inside of his cheek with his tongue. “Mum didn’t take the Potter name. I’m part Dursley. Muggle.” 
Lily hums, toying at the ends of her bright hair. “Dursley, huh? What a familiar name.” 
“It’s a common one,” Harry assures her — not at all the names of the people who would take him in after they died. And make his life miserable. 
“I suppose you’re right,” says Lily, unconvinced. 
“And this is Peter.” James introduces the boy eagerly, pride in his voice — as though this isn’t the person who literally allies himself with Voldemort. As if Peter won’t betray his friends all because of fear. 
“N–Nice to meet you,” Peter stammers with a nervous fidget, “Any family of James is a friend of ours.” 
Harry’s eye twitches. 
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IT IS ALMOST COMICAL — the way their eyes land on your figure, bursting through the courtyard from the corridors, winter cloak swishing with every step, tendrils of hair swaying in the crisp wind, and head held up high, thick books under your arms. You pause in front of the Marauders, face blank, then you turn to Peter, greeting him with a: “Hello, only Gryffindor I can tolerate.” 
Peter’s cheeks burn a saccharine hue of pink. Oh, no, no, no — absolutely not — Harry will not stand for a little crush Peter Pettigrew has on his mother. He needs James to act now. “Hi,” Peter replies shyly. 
Lily quirks her lips. “Hello, princess, see your score for the Astronomy test yet?”
You scowl. “Zip it, Evans.” 
The sound of Lily’s laughter fills the atmosphere — it’s the sort of melody that makes flowers bloom in deserts. “Had a bit of difficulty with the star charts?” 
Sirius pinches your cheek — Harry thinks you’re going to murder him on the spot. “Difficulty? I think this one just slept through the whole thing.” 
James snickers. “Must have been one hell of a nap, princess. You were drooling on my jumper.” 
“I most certainly do not drool!” You gasp, appalled, eyes wide as you step away from Sirius.
Sirius rolls his eyes. “What? Is drooling too barbaric for the pretty, little pure-blooded princess now? Newsflash, pet, you’re just as human as we are.” 
“Oh, you horrible, loathsome, infuriating—” You whip around to beat his chest with the course book in your grasp — it’s the kind of book Hermione would consider for light reading. 
“Irresistibly attractive—?” Sirius supplies for you, grin widening with as he captures your wrist with his hands. 
“In your dreams!” You shrill. 
You exhale slowly, eyes closing, chest rising when you take a sharp inhale. You open your eyes and stare straight at Harry — for a moment he fears that you’ll bite his head off. “Harry, dear, will you accompany me to the library? I think I’ve found something important regarding your situation.” 
Harry nods. “Is it time already?” 
“Yes,” You say firmly. “And time is of the essence. Come on.” 
“Wait!” Lily calls out to you as you turn to head back to the castle, Harry in tow — he tries to avoid the way James is glaring at your linked arms. “Hogsmeade next week?” 
Your jaw falls to the ground — this must have been unrehearsed, if the others’ reactions were anything to go by; Remus had dropped his book in shock, Sirius looked like he couldn’t decide between applauding Lily’s bravery or shaking her, and James was somehow frozen in time. “Excuse me?” 
“You’re excused, princess,” says Lily, dimples poking out of her cheek as she takes another step towards you. “You, me, Hogsmeade. A date. I’m sure you’ve gone on one of those before.” 
Harry elbows your stomach as you stare at Lily in shock. It takes a few moments to break you out of your stupor. “A–And what makes you think I’ll just go with you?” 
Lily shrugs. “I’m fit. Aren’t I, Remus?” 
“The fittest,” says Remus without missing a beat. 
You laugh incredulously. “Do you just expect me to go along with this? You’re mad, Evans.” 
Harry glares at you. You need to go along with this. 
“Are you scared, princess?” Lily’s face is inches away from yours, noses almost touching — Harry doesn’t know if he should keep watching this painful way of flirting — as she grins at you, happiness barely contained within her eyes. 
To your credit, you don’t back down. (Harry has to say this for the masses: he saw your gaze flitter down to Lily’s lips for a split second.) “Stop calling me that, Evans.” 
“One date, then.” 
You growl in exasperation, eyes flickering to the boys behind her back — pretending not to hear their conversation. “I suppose I’ll have to deal with them as well?” 
Lily beams and Harry swears sunflowers could grow in her direction. “We’re a package deal.” 
“Unfortunately,” You utter — but Harry notices it, the lack of venom in your voice. You straighten your posture, nose lifted haughtily, “I choose where we’re going.” 
“Done.” The sun peeks out from the cloud just as Lily smiles at you. 
“And I want to—” 
“Done,” Remus interjects raspily, peering up at you from underneath his lashes. “Anything you want, it’s yours.” 
You fight a growing smile, but continue, “If we’re going out in public, you’re going to have to wear—” 
“Done,” says James giddily, he looks as though he could kiss you in front of everyone without a care in the world.  
“You can’t just agree to anything I say!” You flap your arms in frustration. 
“Yes, dear,” Sirius teases. 
“Do you know how much you piss me off, Black?” You squawk. “Because you are this close to—”
“You are so fucking beautiful,” Sirius confesses, every pretense shed raw from his skin, sincerity pouring from his words. 
“I—” You falter, heat rushing to your cheeks. “You’ve gone mad.” 
“It’s your fault, dove,” says James, eyes twinkling like crescent moons as he smiles. “You best take accountability for this.” 
“You’re incorrigible — all of you,” You say as you avoid their gazes.
(But they were yours. Past, present, and future. They loved you so much that their soul was no longer their own — it was yours; yours to keep, yours to break, and yours to love. It would be unjust to ask them why they loved you. Do we ask why the sun rises each day without rest? Do we ask a daisy to stop blooming, or a tree to stop growing after it has endured storms and floods? After all, we do not ask why humans follow the light in a tunnel shrouded in darkness.) 
“Come on, Harry, let’s go.” You reach for his hand, he notices immediately that the tips of your ears are pink, and your palms are warm with sweat. He barely sees Peter wave goodbye before you tug him in the direction of the castle entrance. 
“Wait up!” Remus catches up to you two in quick strides, offering to carry your books for you — not that you agree, stubborn Slytherin that you are. “I’ll walk you to the library.” 
“There’s no need for that, Lupin, thank you.” You dodge his eyes, lips tightly pressed together, nails slightly digging into Harry’s arm. 
“Remus,” He says with a twinkle. “Call me Remus.” 
“Alright.” You pause. “Remus.” 
(In that moment, Remus wonders if you remember decking Lucius Malfoy in the face to defend him in your fourth year. He didn’t think he deserved to even breathe in the same air as you — the pure-blooded princess, dressed in clothing worth more than his life, adorned in jewelry he could only dream to afford, raised to believe she was better than everyone else. Then, you beat up Evan Rosier the next month in the courtyard, eyes ablaze, extravagant silk marred with grass stains and mud, and knuckles split open. You spit blood on the ground, looking at Lily then back at Rosier. “Red,” You say, kicking him one last time in the stomach, unafraid of McGonagall’s wrath growing louder and louder. “Just like everyone else. Like those Muggleborns you fear. We’ve all got dirty blood, Rosier. Suck it up.” 
“I’ll tell your father about this!” Rosier bellows through bloody teeth. 
“Tell him!” You grab his neck and slam your forehead against his. “Tell him that I decide my own future now!”
Remus doesn’t even have to think about it. 
He falls in love.) 
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FUNNILY ENOUGH, IT’S LILY who gives you her heart first, before anyone else does. It’s the last month of her first year at Hogwarts — it still hasn’t quite sunk in yet that she was a witch. Her, not Petunia, but her — Lily Evans, the witch. Apparently, some people can’t believe it either. A girl from Ravenclaw calls her this foul word, she’s heard it a few times now but it always hurts the same. James and Sirius get into a fight for her honor, now faced with detention later this evening. But she can’t help but wonder, what if they were right? What if she really didn’t belong in this world? It was too good to be true, anyway. Perhaps she’ll just run a flower boutique with Petunia.
“Oi.” 
The sound of your voice startles her, and she nearly topples over in the Great Lake. Lily catches sight of your Slytherin colors and resigns herself to another round of name-calling. “What do you want?” 
“They’re wrong, you know,” You tell her, ignoring Lily’s question. You look down on her with your nose raised arrogantly — she wishes she could be like you. Born to be magic. “You’ve got a terrifying brain locked up in your head there, Evans. And they know it, too. They’re scared.” 
Lily scoffs. “I’m just a Mudblood to them. There’s nothing to be intimidated by.” 
You sneer. “Don’t say that word. You’re more than that. More than them. They’ve got long ways to go to prove they have a place in this world. But you — you’ve defied the odds and you were destined to become magic. You don’t have to prove anything. You have the right to be in the wizarding world and no one can take that away from you.” 
Then, you pivot on your heels, not bothering to hear her reply. “You’re my rival now, Evans. Do keep up. We’ve got an Astronomy test tomorrow. I look forward to seeing how you do then.” 
Lily just gapes. She’s certain there’s butterflies in her stomach. Her heart thumps wildly against her ribcage. Lily raises her hands to feel her blushing cheeks. There’s a light unfamiliar sensation in her stomach — like the urge to kick her legs and scream into a pillow, or more precisely, chase after you and hold your hand.
She stiffens.
Oh.
part two
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moonstruckme · 4 months
Note
James being a big bear of a boyfriend and always just like lifting u up so easily to hug and sit on his lap and even tho u hate when anyone else does it he’s so BEEFY that you’re fine with him doing it
Yessssss I'm not much of a physical touch person irl but James I would allow
poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 847 words
Sirius is trying to follow Remus’ example and focus on the puzzle, but his eyes keep flitting up to you worriedly. You’ve monopolized the couch, laying flat with a hand cast over your eyes and your mouth pinched in obvious discomfort. He’d tried rubbing your calf and Remus had offered you tea, but they’d both given up when the attention only seemed to worsen your mood. Remus suggested they work on the puzzle while you rest (not Sirius’ favorite activity, but forced upon him because it keeps him quiet) and now they’re both simply trying not incur your wrath. 
“Quit looking at me,” you growl without opening your eyes. 
In Sirius’ case, not doing a very good job. 
“Fine, sheesh,” he says, and you press your lips together like you’re restraining yourself from snapping at him. 
You cringe when the door opens, every line of you pulling taut. James is all smiles as he tosses his gym bag to the floor with a heavy thump. “Hello, my loves!” His voice is a decibel short of booming, but it softens when he sees you on the couch. “Oh, sorry, is she napping?” 
Remus shakes his head, lips pursed as he watches your hand tighten over your eyes. “Headache,” he explains quietly. 
“Oh, I’m sorry lovie.” James reroutes from the kitchen, heading for you. Sirius tenses. “How bad is it?” 
“Prongs,” Sirius whispers urgently, “don’t—”
But James has already lifted you, one hand under your knees and another supporting your back as he moves you smoothly from your chosen position of rest and into his lap. He makes it look like nothing, which is the first offense (Sirius isn’t sure which of you he’s more jealous of), but the second is that you let him. Sirius and Remus have both looked up in alarm, waiting for a biting protest that doesn’t come. Instead, you remove your hand from your face, burying in it James’ brawny shoulder instead. 
“Bad,” you grumble, but your tone lacks the venom you’d spat at Sirius a moment before. 
James coos like he’s got a kitten in his lap instead of a viper, bringing his considerable arms around you. His palm cups the back of your neck, kneading gently at the tensed muscles there. “Where does it hurt, darling?” 
“Everywhere.” 
“By your eyes?” 
“No.” 
He hums, brows furrowing as he works steadily at your neck. You’ve gone nearly lax in his arms, trusting him to hold you up as you slump against his front. “Have you been drinking water?” 
“It’s not that.” Some of the irritation is back in your tone, Sirius notices, but it’s been markedly softened for James. “I had tons of water this morning.” 
“Probably a tension headache then, yeah?” He looks to Remus, who nods. The quiet boy looks as dumbstruck as Sirius feels. 
James moves his grip to your sides and lifts you again, rearranging his legs to get more comfortable before placing you back in his lap. He places a hand on each side of your head, thumbs pushing into your temples and rubbing in slow, soothing circles. You begin to look like you might fall asleep.
“This is so unfair,” Sirius hisses to Remus. 
“He has a power,” Remus admits weakly, “which transcends understanding.” 
“Do you want some tea?” James murmurs to you after a while. Sirius’ eyes have gotten stuck watching the movement of his forearms, and he snaps them reluctantly back up. 
You hum, uncertain but definitely considering it. Behind you, Remus throws up his hands. James sees him and smiles, shoulders shaking with quiet laughter. 
“I��m getting the sense this isn’t the first cup you’ve been offered,” he says, looking immensely entertained. 
You sigh, but even that sounds pleasurable as his big thumbs drill diligently into your temples. “Yeah, but I just wanted to be left alone.” 
Remus and Sirius exchange a look. You seem perfectly fine with company now. 
“Don’t be silly,” James chides lightly, “a warm drink will make you feel better. Remus, love, would you be so kind as to make her a cup?” 
“Sure.” His voice is gruff, but then you murmur a quiet thanks, Rem and Sirius actually sees the moment his heart turns to mush. “No problem,” he says, softer now. 
“Attagirl.” James’ hand drops to give your shoulder a squeeze, his bicep flexing slightly with the movement. Christ, Sirius might have to fake a headache later, if this is the sort of treatment those receive. “Drink your tea and then we’ll get you to bed, yeah? You can sleep the rest of this off.” 
“You know, I offered to carry her to bed earlier,” Sirius says, still slightly bitter, “and she told me very clearly to fuck off.” 
You don’t sound so much exasperated now as exhausted. “Siri, when you carrying me doesn’t involve setting me down every five steps for a break, then we’ll talk.” 
James’ laugh surprises both of you, and he apologizes hastily for jostling you, pressing a quick kiss to your forehead before resuming his ministrations. You don’t seem all that upset about it.
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ddejavvu · 7 months
Note
Hi, i hope youre doing well ☺️
Could i request another part to animagus cat reader where reader cuddles with Remus during winter instead of Sirius because its cold and he runs warmer?? Like he'll be in the common room reading in an arm chair while reader catnaps on his lap while being pet and Sirius tells him to stop stealing his gf and James is jealous/whiny that he doesnt get to have cat snuggles.
part 1 / part 2
--
Despite the two blankets layered in an inviting nest on Sirius's lap, Remus is the warmest person in the room. The fire crackes on its logs, offering scorching heat, but what you seek is gentle warmth, and you've found it between Remus's sweater and his undershirt. You're splayed over his chest much like a baby would be, your paws stretched out against his shoulders and your head pressed face-first into his chest. His sweater is tight enough that it holds you in place, and you don't have to worry about falling. It means that you're able to fully relax, and Sirius can hear your rampant purring from where he sits on the couch with a sour scowl on his face.
"If you just wore warmer clothes, you wouldn't be pissy right now," Remus muses, not bothering to grace the man with a glance away from his novel, "She only likes me 'cause my sweater is warm."
That's not entirely true. While Remus does tend to dress for comfort, and Sirius for style, Remus runs naturally hotter than your boyfriend. You don't have the heart to tell him that, though, so you mewl in agreement to Remus's statement.
"Sweaters are dumb," Sirius spits, and no one bothers to mention that he has a small collection of them for the snowy days on the grounds, "I look better in leather."
"Your loss," Remus shrugs, and to add insult to injury, reaches up to scratch a spot behind your ears that only makes your purring louder.
"This is bullshit," Sirius finally huffs, breaking his facade of gloomy indifference, "Prongs, get over here."
James, all too eager to help out his friend and soak up affection to boot, has no problem tipping over sideways to lay in Sirius's lap.
But the man lifts James's head out of his lap by his curls, "No, no, no, not James. Prongs."
"You want me to-?" James asks, but doesn't dare finish, because the prospect of transforming right in the common room sends a shiver of mischief down his spine that he'd be a fool to question, "On it."
"Yeah. Yeah, yeah," Sirius nods, sneering haughtily at Remus, "You're not the only one that's good for a cuddle, Moony. Look at this," He gushes, as James begins his transformation, skin giving way to tight, short fur and enormous antlers that nearly grate against the stone walls around you.
"Oh, he's a perfect fit." Remus nods resignedly, content to continue rubbing at your ears rather than chastise his friends for trying to fit a stag on a loveseat, "Yeah, that'll work nicely- ooh, careful Sirius, almost got stabbed there."
Sirius dodges a prong off of James's antlers, taking them in his hands and holding James's head steady as the oversized buck folds his knobbly knees into Sirius's lap. The back two can't make it, but James fits them clumsily onto the cushion, maintaining his balance out of dramatic willpower rather than the laws of physics.
You decide once they settle that they're no longer in need of your attention, so you turn your head back towards Remus and burrow your face back into his warm chest. You feel it shake with mirth beneath you, presumably at an overdramatized reaction from the two boys opposite you, but you can't bring yourself to care; sleep is at the forefront of your brain in this form.
"Yeah, get real cozy!" Sirius insists, calling so that you can hear him through Remus's thick sweater and beneath the weight of his hand on your ears, "Whatever! We're cozy over here, too, 'never been more comfortable- ah! Prongs, watch the hooves!"
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is this seat taken?
how the marauders sit around you
tags: james potter x reader,, sirius black x reader,, remus lupin x reader,, headcanon,, so soft
a/n: been super inactive!! so i offer this as peace offering <3
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james would purposefully find seats meant for for one person. eagerly pulling you to follow him and plop down, patting his thighs. you’d look at him, eyebrows raised in question and he’d just offer a boyish smile, perfect dimples denting his cheeks. he’d spread his legs, pull you into him and sit you on one of his muscled thighs. he would keep a hand around your waist and the other intertwined with yours. he’d make you lean into him a bit more, only to pepper you with light kisses all over your jaw and neck. of course you’d wish to sit on a proper chair once in a while, and when you had said this out loud, he had gasped, utterly offended.
sirius would be sitting on a bench, he would have his legs on either side of the seat — straddling it as he faces you, his legs barricading you in place. his knees and the warmth of thighs firmly against your knees and bum. he’d be leaning to the table, an elbow prompt up supporting his head. while his other hand would be tucking a lock of hair behind your ear, exposing your pretty neck. he’d run his knuckle over the smooth skin and he’s just stare. looking at you and softly smiling. then you would you would offer him bites of your meal, kissing his lips each time he takes a bite.
remus would sit on the couch, grab your hand and slowly guide you to stand between his spread knees. he would kiss your hand, littering little kisses all over your wrist and forearms and the inside of your elbow, as he slowly let your arms rest on his shoulders. as he leans forward to hug your thighs close to his chest. he’d nuzzle your tummy, breathe in your scent - somehow always calming his nerves. you’d bury your hand in his hair, run your fingers through it and rub his scalp. he’d open his eyes, not knowing he’d close them and look up at you, sighing, looking content.
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sleyu · 8 months
Note
thinking about how mean!bf sirius would have a hugeee corruption kink, he just wants to ruin your mind yk
idk maybe its just me
i think mean or not, it is definite that sirius black has a corruption kink and it unquestionably couples with his possessive nature.
just imagine mean bf ! sirius meeting you for the first time. you’re a timid, but undoubtedly kind individual who is meek next to him—fully aware of sirius’ notoriety in his personality and habits. he becomes so awestruck, he has nothing to respond to your unassuming questions aside from the occasional nod or gentle murmur.
he displays a calm, relatively friendly aura until the pair of you begin to become acquainted with each other and ultimately, begin dating. it is only then, that the mean teasing and snickers begin, and his heart bursts with joy at the sound of your bashful whines and protests every time he playfully slaps your ass or tugs your skirt, laughing and pulling you close to him, muttering how his actions are all in good fun and that he’d never let anything actually hurt you.
‘so bloody sensitive. y’know i’d rather die than let someone lay a hand on you, dummy.’
and of course, sirius isn’t stupid. he’s been having lewd, perverted thoughts about you since the day he met you. in fact, it was only the same night that sirius cast a silencing charm around his bed to hide the sinful sounds of him grunting as he fisted his cock, thoughts about bending you over the classroom desk polluting his already depraved mind.
since you’ve started dating, he reckons it’s time to manifest these fantasies into life, especially after noticing how your meek gaze has begun to linger on his broad chest and widen at the sight of his bulging crotch. his inner self beams with joy and crude anticipation every time he feels you pawing at his thighs, looking up at him in despair as if you’re unsure of what you really want or why the throbbing ache in between your thighs is only getting worse.
i think mean bf ! sirius would definitely become dizzy at the sight of you on your knees, hands gripping his muscular thighs, begging him to let you suck his cock or to fill your cunt up. usually he was the one doing the begging, but here you were, pliant, obedient, and desperate for his every touch. he genuinely has to sit down and stare at you while also controlling the immoral urge of forcing his cock down your throat, watching how your eyes widen and become teary as your throat contracts and chokes around his pulsating cock.
he genuinely cannot control himself once he sees you fully submit to him, begging him to give you the exact things you were too shy about even insinuating merely a month ago. it makes him feel so accomplished knowing that he was the one that made your brain all cloudy and fuzzy—that he was the one who got your cunt hooked on the feeling of his relentless, unforgiving cock.
‘sirius—my fingers—they’re not good enough—need your cock in me—jus’ want you to ruin ‘n abuse me—please da—’ as soon as you become close to uttering the last word, he’s already lifted up your skirt and forced his cock inside your aching pussy anyways, groaning into your mouth and fucking you ten times harder than he would have any other day.
‘slut—you’ve become a little slut—oh, fuck—‘n who’s are you, huh?’
it becomes the first time that sirius loses all sense of reason and caution as it has become evident to him that he’s irreversibly corrupted you into becoming just as disgusting and perverted as him.
‘nah, not sirius’, honey, you're daddy’s, yeah?’
‘gross fuckin’ bitch loves that, huh, puppy? you like it when daddy forces himself inside you like that, hm?’
‘hogwarts newest slut, yeah? but only mine, isn’t that right? only i get to ruin—fuck—this whorish cunt—mmm,’
sirius is so mean, he doesn’t even tell you when he’s about to cum :( he makes you cum and afterward, you’re a fucked out mess because he just doesn’t stop. your eyebrows begin to furrow and you can only manage to mumble a quiet ‘sirius?’ before he groans into your neck, breath all hot and heavy, and pumps you full of his hot, sticky cum. all you can do is whine and writhe beneath him as he pushes your knees to your chest and uses your cunt to drain his massive cock.
all the while, he’s reveling in the realization that he has just cummed inside you and that if spells and birth control were forgotten, it would be no surprise if you fell pregnant with the copious amounts of cum pumped inside your spent hole.
‘my dirty girl likes when daddy breeds her, doesn’t she? oh, don’t shake your head, pup, i know you like it—can feel you clench—god—around me right now.’
sirius gets so turned on when you confess that you can’t make yourself cum without him ever since the two of you started having sex. the image of you crying out in frustration at the feeling of your own neediness and the dull throbbing in between your sore thighs—incapable of doing anything without his guidance—makes his cock harden far quicker than it should have.
‘poor thing. my dumb girl can’t do anything without me, can she? your small fingers just aren’t as daddy, hm?’ paired with a faux, mocking frown because sirius black is an asshole that is very visibly ecstatic that you’ll always have to come to him to find a release.
and nothing fuels his ego more than having you beg him to stuff you full of his cum before class begins. he loses his mind seeing the effects of ruining your perfect, angelic interior. his once smart, goody-two-shoes, good-girl has become a conniving slut, her own cunt betraying any logic or rational thinking within her mind :( seeing his shy, perfect-attendance girlfriend begging him to skip class with her to fuck in a dingy broom closet is all it takes for him to bust right then and there.
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amiableness · 28 days
Text
Little Lies
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Pairing: Sirius Black x Fem! Reader
Summary: James asks Sirius and Y/n to pretend to date after he blurts out they are to Lily.
Word Count: 11.4k
Warnings: smut 18+, male masturbation, oral fem receiving, fingering, unprotected sex (pls be so careful!), reader wears a bikini top, and jealousy
A/N 💌 Hope you all enjoy this; it's been my baby for a while!
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
“I may have severely fucked up.” James sighs, his features tight with guilt as he stands before you. His chest is heaving like he has run all the way to you—it’s a likely theory.
Remus glances up from beside you; the two of you had been buried in your homework in the common room when James came racing in. He’s disappointed that James has disrupted the productive atmosphere. There’s no way that you or Remus will be continuing to work on your essays.
His admission doesn’t surprise you; James has come to you countless times seeking assistance after making a mistake. Being best friends since you were born, you’ve grown accustomed to being the one to untangle his messes.
Your parents were best friends, which meant that you and James were also raised to be. There wasn’t a memory that you could recall that James wasn’t in. It ended up working; to both of your mum’s excitement, you and James were inseparable. As the levelheaded one between you, you often found yourself trailing after James, tasked with picking up the pieces.
It was in the aftermath of pranks spiraling out of control, times when he impulsively voiced things he really shouldn’t have, or instances when he procrastinated excessively on his work, inevitably turning to you for help with his essays. Surprisingly, it’s become almost amusing to you, a reliable routine in your friendship.
You undeniably held the title of James Potter’s best friend.
Your eyes narrow skeptically, folding your arms over your chest, “Define severely.”
His demeanor turns sheepish as he nervously rubs the back of his neck, his gaze drifting away from you. He looks incredibly uncomfortable, “I don’t think you’re going to like it.”
“You’re not starting off strong.” You snark, an amused smile finding its way onto your lips. Remus chuckles next to you.
“Y/n.” James sighs, his expression urging you to stop your teasing.
“James.” You mimic.
He shoots you a glare, eyes narrowed in mock irritation, “Lily and I were chatting, like really chatting,” He begins, sighing obnoxiously as he settles into the chair opposite you, his expression a grimace. “She told me why she hasn’t taken me seriously when I flirt with her.”
You pause, confusion etching into your features, “And where exactly did you severely fuck up?”
"She thought we were a couple." He says, his hands gesturing wildly between the two of you, his expression a mix of incredulity and amusement. "Can you believe that? You and me?”
You can believe that, actually. You and James have been mistaken for a couple more times than you can count. Even your parents were convinced the two of you would end up together. While you had told them it wasn’t going to happen, you were convinced they were still holding out hope.
You furrow your brows as you watch him a tad uneasy, “Okay, and where did you severely fuck up in this?”
“I panicked, okay?” James looks guilty when he blurts this out. He nearly shouts it, and Remus hushes him. “She said it wasn’t fair for me to flirt with her because of you. She didn’t want your feelings to be hurt and wouldn’t listen when I said we were just friends. And I panicked.”
“Mate, get to the bloody point.” Remus huffs out, tired of James dragging out the story. Nothing bothered Remus more than when James or Sirius took an eternity to get to the point of their story.
“I told her you’re dating Sirius.” James grimaces, shifting nervously.
“What?” You hiss, your palms smacking onto the table, causing James to flinch, “Have you taken too many hits to the head? James, we are not dating!”
James protests, panicking, "But Lily doesn't know that! If you two could just pretend-"
"No, absolutely not! That is going too far." You snap, sending James a frustrated look, while Remus is chuckling to himself next to you.
"Y/n, please. This could be it! My chance with Lily!" James pleads. He’s desperate to try and salvage the plan he had put all his hopes on.
"Starting your new relationship with a lie, are we?" You snap, massaging at your temples. Most of the stress is from spending too many hours studying, but James is undoubtedly making it worse.
James shrugs, a mischievous smirk starting to form, "Well, not really. You and Sirius already flirt a lot. It’s not that far off from the truth."
James was well aware of your feelings for Sirius; he had watched how you nervously stumbled over your words the first day you met Sirius. He had never seen you like that before, eyes lit up with inflation at first glance.
While he occasionally teased you about it, he understood that what you felt for Sirius was deeper than just a crush. Though you would never admit it out loud.
Your frustration grows, "It absolutely is far off from the truth. Lily probably didn’t even believe you! There's no evidence for her to believe the idea that we are together.” You cry, disbelief evident in your voice. James's casual attitude only adds to your frustration. He doesn’t seem bothered in the slightest.
Remus interjects, an amused scoff escaping him, “There's evidence to believe it."
"Are you joking?" You deadpan, your voice full of incredulity. Remus sends you a teasing smirk. He considers how Sirius flirts with you more than anyone else, but he doesn’t want to deal with Sirius furious at him.
Ever since you met Sirius, you have had a crush on him. Realistically, you knew it was pointless; Sirius had a fan club of admirers. So, you counted yourself lucky that you were one of his closest friends. Being his friend was manageable, and quite honestly, kept your expectations in check.
But Sirius acting like he had feelings for you? You wouldn’t handle that well.
James interjects, "Lily believed it. She even said she wasn't surprised."
"But she thought you and I were together?" You ask, sarcasm dripping from every word.
Your tone was snippier than you intended, but you could feel the stress building. The mere thought of pretending to be with Sirius made you feel nauseous.
"She might've just been jealous, wanting to know if you had feelings for James before she finally goes for him." Remus says casually, and James' eyes light up in excitement.
James is positively giddy as he leans forward, “You think she was jealous?”
"Does Sirius even know?" You interrupt, catching James's eye. He glances at Remus, clearly hoping to hear more about Lily’s supposed jealousy.
James shakes his head, and you scoff, opening your mouth to enlighten James on why you think this is a bad idea. Before you can say anything, Remus cuts you off, “Here’s your chance to tell him.”
You glance up to see Sirius walking through the library, and you resist letting out a lovesick sigh at how effortlessly handsome he is.
Your stomach plummets at the sight of a stunning girl effortlessly chatting with him. His laughter rings out, causing unease to settle in your stomach.
If he was close enough, you probably would’ve tried to eavesdrop.
Despite not knowing her name, you know she’s a Gryffindor; you’ve seen her in the common room. James nudges you, and when you glance at him, he sends you a knowing look.
"Glad to see you guys are having study dates without Peter and me." Sirius calls, settling into the seat next to James and patting him on the shoulder in greeting.
Relief washes over you as you notice that the girl who was with him a second ago is long gone. He glances over at you, and pauses in surprise at your disgruntled expression, "You okay?"
Remus chuckles at the question, finding the harsh look you shoot James hilarious. It’s clear that he’s finding this entire situation entertaining.
“Ask James about what he told Lily.” You say, voice strained with irritation. James sends Sirius a nervous smile, and Sirius looks at him oddly.
"What'd you do?"
Sirius asks, his eyes darting back to you, taking note of your frustrated expression. Your stomach tightens with nerves, scared of Sirius’ reaction. Remus leans back in his chair, excited to see how this will all play out.
"Lily and I were talking today," James sighs, "and she wouldn't stop going on about how she thinks Y/n is in love with me and that it's not fair for me to flirt with her because I could be hurting her."
"She thinks I'm in love with you?" You shriek, oblivious to the barely visible flinch on Sirius' face at James' words. Remus catches it, his grin getting bigger.
James ignores you, “Anyways, I said that it’s not a problem because you and Y/n are dating.” James finishes cautiously, his gaze locked on Sirius, curious for his reaction. Your breath is caught in your throat, your eyes fixed intently on Sirius, awaiting his reaction as well.
"You told Lily that Y/n's my girl?" Sirius inquires casually, causing your stomach to somersault at his words. You force yourself to focus on James instead of the warmth creeping into your skin.
"I panicked, and that's what came out. So, if you guys could pretend you're madly in love, that would be great!" James claps his hands together, and you feel the urge to wack him. You're prepared to snap at him, to explain why asking this of you both isn’t right.
But then Sirius shrugs, "Sure, shouldn't be too hard, right, sweet girl?" He says, and your legs feel like jelly.
You're floundering, not having expected Sirius to agree. He’s never maintained a steady relationship, so pretending that he’s dating you is a big ask. His agreement sends your mind spiraling with different scenarios. For a brief second, you wonder if he agrees so easily because he has feelings for you. But you quickly shut down that thought.
You’re delusional. You truly are.
"Sure, that shouldn't be too bad." You agree, hoping you appear casual about this.
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
"I need you two to amp it up. Lily is eating breakfast with us today." James directs, causing you to glance up from your breakfast, disbelief etched into your features. He takes a bite of bacon and casually observes you as though his request is perfectly normal.
"We've switched spots, is that not enough for you?" You ask sarcastically, and Remus shakes his head, wearing an entertained smile as he continues eating breakfast. He can tell you're panicking about pretending to be with Sirius; it’s painfully obvious to everyone at the table.
You're usually seated between James and Peter, but when you attempted to slide into the seat this morning, James slammed his hand down on the seat and instructed you to sit next to your boyfriend, wearing a smug smile. Peter snorted softly but quickly replaced it with a sympathetic smile, silently apologizing for his reaction.
"I mean, we all know Sirius is into PDA, and you look terrified to even be sitting next to him." Peter points out, and you find yourself scrabbling.
Were you two supposed to be super affectionate? Would Sirius find it weird if you initiated it? Questions are flooding your mind leaving you feeling overwhelmed.
"I am not terrified. I just don’t know how to act." You insist.
"Act like you’re in love with him; it shouldn’t be too hard, right?" James quips, earning a glare from you. He responds with a playful wink.
"The boys are right. You need to sit closer to me.” Sirius declares as his arm slips around your waist, pulling you closer to him. You squeak his name in surprise, flustered at how easily he moves you. The boys chuckle at your bewildered expression, finding your embarrassment hilarious.
You feel disappointed when he releases you. Even more so when he doesn't pull you flush against him. Instead, your shoulder to shoulder, the distance between you both feeling more pronounced than ever.
"I'm still waiting on the PDA." Remus says with a playful smirk; his eyes are full of mischief when you glance at him.
You elbow Remus in the side, and he playfully nudges you back, causing you to bump into Sirius' side. Sirius surprises you by wrapping his arm around you, keeping you against him while playfully calling out, "Oi, back off, mate." Being pressed against his side causes warmth to spread through you as you lean further into him.
James watches as Sirius's cheeks flush, a soft smile on his face as he gazes down at you. You appear flustered but content, being so close to him, and James can't help but grin at the two of you.
"We're not going to be all over each other." You say, attempting to distract yourself from the fact that you’re pushed up against Sirius.
"Why not?" James leans forward with a grin, clearly finding everything about this entertaining. “That is what most couples do. Plus, Sirius openly flirts with everyone. But he won’t kiss his own girlfriend? It’s not believable.”
“Merlin, we should have talked about this last night.” You mumble under your breath, and Sirius chuckles beside you. He's entirely at ease. It doesn’t seem like he has any worries about pretending to be your boyfriend. With that observation, you try not to let your worries spiral out of control.
"Listen, we can do whatever you're comfortable with. If you don't want to kiss, then we don't have to," Sirius tells you gently, "but it would be sort of odd for us not to be somewhat affectionate."
The last thing he wants to do is make you feel uncomfortable. But there's a rush of exhilaration at the thought of holding you close and calling you pet names that were once off-limits. And the thought of possibly kissing you?
Surviving that would be inconceivable for him.
"You're right," You nod. “Let's just start off slow. It will be weird if we're all over each other today when we didn’t even sit together yesterday."
"Yeah, yeah! Flirt, be a little touchy, throw some cute pet names in here, will you, Sirius?" James calls out with great enthusiasm. You send him a look that you hope he understands as shut the fuck up. He doesn’t acknowledge your discomfort. Instead, he makes a heart shape with his hands, which adds to your annoyance.
Sirius presses a quick kiss to your temple, “Fuck off, mate. I know how to flirt with my girlfriend, right baby?” You freeze, your eyes widening in disbelief, while the boys laugh at your reaction. How exactly were you supposed to survive this?
You fall into a comfortable silence, happy to enjoy your breakfast as James issues his warnings to the boys, ensuring they behave themselves. Remus, with a subtle eye roll, acknowledges James's words while Peter nods emphatically in agreement. While, Sirius simply outlines every embarrassing memory he plans to share with Lily.
“Y/n, get your man in check.’ James complains in mock irritation, throwing a grape at Sirius, who dodges it.
"Good morning." Lily greets quietly. You all turn to see her approaching, her expression a mix of embarrassment and hesitance, as if she's debating whether to turn around and go to her usual spot down the table.
James abruptly stands up, his hip thumping into the table. He stifles a wince, trying to maintain his composure as he greets Lily, who tries unsuccessfully to suppress a smile at his reaction. Remus cringes and turns back to his breakfast, unable to look at James.
"Y'ready for this?" Sirius leans in, his voice lowered to a hushed tone meant only for you, effectively pulling you away from eavesdropping on James and Lily's conversation. You glance up at him, surprised to find you’re a mere inches away from him.
You're so close that you could individually count each of his eyelashes if you wanted.
You still feel the warmth of his breath mingling with yours, creating an intimate connection between the both of you.
It feels like a magnetic pull draws you closer, tempting you to tilt your head forward and touch his lips with yours. The urge to kiss him is so strong that it nearly knocks the breath from your lungs.
You clear your throat, attempting to push the thought from your mind. "I think so. We're newly dating, so don't go overboard with it." You remind him, a gentle smile playing on your lips.
“When have I ever gone overboard with anything in my life?” The smile he gives you is teasing, and it makes your heart pound to have him this close, his eyes sparkling as he smiles at you.
You hum softly in response, “I can think of quite a few times.”
His voice carries a flirtatious tone, “Can you?”
“Good morning, Lily.” Peter's gentle voice steals your attention away from Sirius. Disappointment and longing settle in his stomach as he watches you pull away and turn to greet Lily, that sweet smile now directed at her.
Lily settles between Peter and James. For a quick second, you feel a pang of jealousy because that's your spot. But when you notice James's pink cheeks and flustered expression, you forget all about it. All you want for James is for him to be happy, and having Lily near seems to do just that.
Breakfast goes smoothly. Lily fits seamlessly into your group, and you can tell it makes James giddy. He doesn't even mind not getting to talk to Lily much. He simply enjoys seeing the girl he's so hopelessly infatuated with getting along so well with his best friends.
You and Sirius aren't acting much differently than you normally do, just sitting close to each other and chatting. However, when Lily turns to you and Sirius, a wave of nervousness washes over you.
“I was so excited to hear you guys were together!”
"Oh yeah? So you can finally go for James with a clear conscience?" Sirius grins, teasing Lily, who looks thoroughly embarrassed. You nudge Sirius in the side, and he responds by giving your hip a gentle squeeze. James sends Sirius an incredulous look, which he pointedly ignores. While Remus and Peter chuckle at the playful banter.
Lily tucks a lock of hair behind her ear and clears her throat; her cheeks tinged with a hint of pink. "Uh, no, just that you two have obviously had feelings for each other for years. Everyone knew."
You're at a loss for words. Is that really what people thought? Clearly, they read you right, but you weren’t sure what to think about Sirius having feelings for you. Maybe he did, or maybe they were mistaking it for how he constantly flirted with you. But that was just how Sirius was; it didn’t necessarily mean he had romantic feelings for you.
"Haven't gotten her out of my head since the day I met her." Sirius says casually, his right elbow resting on the table as he pops a piece of bacon into his mouth. His other arm remains securely wrapped around your waist, holding you close to his side with a gentle yet firm embrace.
You look at him in shock, your eyes widening at his unexpected confession. Even the boys look slightly startled at Sirius' words, their eyes darting between you and him.
“That’s so sweet.” Lily says softly, her eyes glowing with genuine happiness as she sends you a warm smile. The sight tugs at your heartstrings but also stirs up guilt in the pit of your stomach. Lying always made you feel uneasy like a weight was pressing down on your chest.
"Sirius, I can't believe you thought that she—" Lily begins, her voice trailing off as James interjects, his interruption tinged with a hint of urgency.
"Okay, love! I think I should walk you to class, don't y' think?" James stands up from the table, extending his hand towards Lily.
Lily looks slightly confused, but she takes his hand nonetheless. As they walk away, James glances back and sends a wink in Sirius' direction. Your attention immediately shifts to Sirius, curiosity written all over your face as you’re about to ask about Lily's interrupted comment.
Sirius cuts you off before you can ask, shaking his head with a gentle smile and flushed cheeks, "Don't even bother asking; I’m not telling you what she was talking about.”
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
You’re curled up next to Peter on the common room couch, both of you chatting quietly together. For the last twenty minutes, he has been feeding you details about the Ravenclaw girl he has a crush on. He's sworn you to secrecy. Hoping for your advice on asking her out without enduring the teasing of the rest of the Marauders. Your gasp of excitement nearly gives away the secret, but you quickly compose yourself, offering a reassuring smile to Peter.
"Who is she?" You ask, excitement laced in your voice, but Peter sends you an apprehensive look.
"I'm going to keep that to myself. Your squeal almost let the boys know.." He teases, though his tone also carries a note of seriousness.
A laugh escapes you, "I promise when you’re ready to tell me I’ll be so careful about keeping it a secret."
"Oi! Are you two sharing secrets over there?" James calls out, his voice immensely curious. He’s sat with his back to the flickering flames, his palms flat against the floor as he leans back on them. Peter tenses beside you, but you maintain an easy smile. Remus and Sirius are lounging in the armchairs nearby, their attention piqued by the exchange.
"All my deepest darkest secrets." You tease, flashing James a grin. He furrows his brow and sits up, clearly riled up by your response.
“Y/n, as your best friend, I better know all these secrets.” James lips are pouted, his expression tinged with a hint of concern, as if he's genuinely worried that you and Peter are sharing secrets that he doesn’t know.
James has always been fiercely protective of your friendship. Despite being close to the boys, your bond with James was stronger. There was nothing that the two of you didn't confide in each other; he honestly did know all your secrets.
“You do.” You smile reassuringly, and James's expression breaks into a satisfied grin.
The boys continue their soft conversation by the crackling fire, the warm glow casting flickering shadows across the room, while you and Peter sit in comfortable silence. Both of you are lost in thought as you relax in the cozy atmosphere.
After stifling a good five yawns, you glance at the time and decide it's probably best to head to your room, the quiet of the common room signaling just how late it had gotten.
You inch closer to Peter, before finding the courage to lean over and envelop him in a friendly hug, your arms wrapping around his shoulders.
He's momentarily taken aback, his body tenses at your touch, but soon he relaxes, reciprocating by wrapping you in his arms. It's a gesture that feels somewhat out of character for you, but after he trusted you with his secret, it seems like the most natural thing to do, a silent affirmation of support for him.
"I think I'm going to go to bed." You tell him softly, "But I promise we'll talk more tomorrow."
“I’d like that.” He smiles at you as you pull away. You grab your bag and make your way in the direction of the stairs.
“Goodnight boys!” You call out softly over your shoulder before disappearing up the stairs. Sirius watches you go, his gaze lingering on your figure, his thoughts full of you long after you've left the room.
Ever since you moved to hug Peter, his eyes have been on you, curiosity and jealousy settling in his stomach.
"Why the hell did you get a hug?" Sirius asks, his tone laced with bitterness as his gaze shifts to Peter, who appears taken aback by Sirius’ sudden question. Remus and James exchange amused glances, before they refocus their attention on Peter, waiting expectantly for an explanation to ease the tension.
“I don’t know, she just hugged me.” Peter squirms uncomfortably in his seat, his confidence quickly dwindling as he's put on the spot.
Sirius nods slowly, his lips pursing in contemplation. His carefully measured tone betrays the longing and a hint of possessiveness that he struggles to conceal, "What were you guys talking about over there?"
Remus interjects with a teasing tone, "Careful, Pads. You sound jealous." A playful glint dances in his eyes as he notices Sirius' furrowed brows and the discontent on his face.
“He’s got the boyfriend role down.” James quips, and Sirius sends them both a glare.
“I’m not jealous,” Sirius repeats quite grumpily. “I just don’t understand why Peter got a hug, and we didn’t.”
James barks out a laugh while Remus shakes his head, a chuckle escaping him in sheer disbelief.
"You're jealous because you have feelings for her." James states matter-of-factly.
Sirius begins to shake his head in denial, but Remus promptly interjects, his voice firm and unwavering, "’Haven't gotten her out of my head since the day I met her.’ What the fuck was that then?” Remus repeats Sirius’ words from the other day, perfectly mimicking his tone.
James bursts into laughter, the sound hearty and infectious, while Peter offers a small smile, observing Sirius as he struggles to respond.
“Not to mention, you’ve been staring Peter down ever since Y/n touched him.” Remus remarks while Sirius gazes blankly at him, his expression unreadable as he nervously chews on his bottom lip.
“You really have.” Peter adds with a grimace.
“You like her, mate.” Remus concludes, his words carrying a sense of finality that lingers in the air.
Sirius sighs heavily.
The conversation weighs heavily on him as he sinks down in the armchair, his brow furrowed in deep thought. The boys’ words replay in his mind. He was jealous, and he did like you. He already knew all of this. But he had always been cautious around you, mindful of the unspoken boundaries because of your friendship with James. A nagging worry in the back of his mind that James would be against any relationship between the two of you. James was his greatest friend, and he worried he could lose him if he attempted to go for you. The idea of James being unfazed by a romantic relationship between you and Sirius threw him off balance. It vastly differed from the scenarios he had envisioned, where James would react with fierce anger upon learning of Sirius' affection for you. The realization left Sirius feeling torn. Did that mean he could actually go for you?
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
As the air is warm and balmy, birdsong emanating from the trees while the leaves rustle in the gentle breeze. The sun casts everything in a golden haze, letting you know summer is near. The boys are certain of their decision: today is the perfect day to spend at the lake.
Laughter and chatter echo across the shimmering waters as the boys swim around the lake, reaching where you’re draped over a soft towel next to Lily. You have been trading gossip back and forth for the last couple of hours. It’s refreshing since usually you’re glued to the boys’ sides. You were constantly in the company of at least one of the four.
You feel a twinge of regret in your chest, realizing you haven't made an effort to have a close friendship with the girls. And you really should have. It wasn't a deliberate choice; James had always been your go-to person. Then, when you met the boys, you naturally formed close bonds with them, too. The thought of branching out and making more friends never really crossed your mind.
Though you value your friendships with the boys, you decide you desperately need to spend more time with the girls. The possibility of James and Lily getting together has you hopeful.
“You realize Sirius can’t take his eyes off you, right?” You choose to remain silent, only giving a shrug, fully aware that Sirius is merely pretending to be in love with you. To his credit, he's played the part convincingly throughout the entire week. There have been moments when you've found yourself questioning the authenticity of his actions, wondering whether his affection is genuine or merely his acting skills.
For someone who hasn’t had much practice with relationships, he possessed an innate ability to treat you like you were the only girl in his world. Whether it was a reassuring hand on your lower back as you maneuvered through the crowded halls, a tender kiss planted on your forehead when you parted ways, or the subtle exchange of flirty smiles whenever your eyes met across the room.
Sirius' laughter drifts over from the lake, reaching your ears, and a subconscious smile graces your lips. Lily must have seen your reaction, “Merlin, you really like him, don’t you?”
It was driving you to the brink of obsession. If this was the experience of being Sirius' girl, you wanted it more than before.
Despite your efforts to contain it, a sigh slips from your lips, "Yeah, I really do."
Confessing this feels uncomfortable. You've never talked to anyone about the depth of your feelings for Sirius, and now you're doing so under the guise of a fake relationship. You had come close to telling James, but you really didn’t need to. He had an uncanny ability to read you like an open book. Guilt churns in your stomach once more as you think about lying to Lily. What will her reaction be when you reveal that you and Sirius were never actually together?
The silence lingers for a few moments before you gently break it, "What were you about to say at breakfast the other day? Before James interrupted?"
Lily's expression shifts from confusion to excitement, her eyes lighting up, “Oh, in Charms! I finally wrangled it out of Sirius that he had feelings for you. But he insisted that nothing was ever going to happen because you didn’t like him back.”
It feels like you've been plunged into a tub of cold water. Your mind goes momentarily blank, a surge of disbelief flooding your senses as you struggle to comprehend Lily's words. Your body freezes in place, grappling with what this could possibly mean. There’s no possible way you heard her correctly.
“What? When was this?” Your voice escapes breathless and startled, yet Lily appears oblivious to it.
“Just a couple of weeks ago! I’m so glad he finally told you how he felt.” Lily smiles sweetly before laying back on her towel. If she notices you’re in a state of shock, she doesn’t say anything.
You hear a whistle, and no surprise, your best friend throws himself between you and Lily, “Don’t you two look pretty!”
Lily gasps as James leans down, playfully pressing his lips against her cheek, his hair dripping water onto her. Though she protests, you both can tell she doesn't truly mind it.
As James and Lily become wrapped up in their own world, you find yourself drifting back to the conversation from a moment ago. Your mind spins, still muddled by Lily's words. Sirius had feelings for you. Why hadn't he spoken up? Did he not want anything to come of it?
Your heart nearly stops when Sirius drops down and hovers over you, his hands propping him up on either side of your head. You barely register that he's shirtless and above you just before icy water cascades from his hair onto your skin. A startled cry escapes you as the cold droplets trickle down your cheeks, tracing a chilling path along your neck and chest.
“Sirius Black!” You had intended to sound angry, but laughter slips past your lips, betraying your emotions. Sirius grins at your reaction, his eyes trailing down from your eyes to shamelessly check out the bikini top you have on.
The boys had been teasing him relentlessly after witnessing how he practically fell to his knees when you walked into the common room wearing a bikini top and tiny denim shorts. You were oblivious to his gaze, heading straight for Lily and conversing about who knows what.
He couldn't tear his eyes away from you all day.
He feigns ignorance as you whine at him, responding with a sweet smile instead, “What, sweet girl?”
"Get off!" You squeal, though your tone lacks any real irritation. Deep down, you’re secretly enjoying having him so close, enveloping you in his presence.
“Whatever you want, sweet girl.” He mutters as he rolls off of you, repositioning himself so he's sitting behind you. With a gentle tap on your shoulder, he prompts you to sit up, then guides you until your back hits his chest. Once you're settled, he loosely wraps his arms around your shoulders before placing a kiss on your head.
Remus catches your eye as he and Peter make their way to their towels. Unlike Sirius and James, they hadn't hurried over to you and Lily. Instead, they took their time, chatting lazily while the sun warmed their skin. Remus sends you a sly, suggestive glance, and you respond by narrowing your eyes at him playfully.
Sirius and Remus engage in their own conversation, their voices blending into the background as Peter gestures for you to follow him. Sirius protests lightly, his eyes following you as you pull away from him to walk down to the lake with Peter.
You're gone for no more than twenty minutes, offering Peter advice on establishing a friendship with the girl he likes, perhaps making it easier for him to ask her out in the future.
Despite Remus' attempts to draw him back into the conversation, Sirius remains preoccupied, his gaze fixed on you until you eventually return and settle onto the towel beside him, seeking the familiar comfort of his presence. Only then does Sirius relax, draping his arm around you protectively.
He despises the twinge of jealousy that creeps in every time Peter has you to himself.
“Mate, you’re fucked.” Remus chuckles, and you assume it's due to something amusing said during their conversation. Sirius simply rolls his eyes and playfully extends his middle finger in Remus' direction, a gesture of mock annoyance that elicits a smirk from both of them.
The rest of the afternoon is spent wrapped up in Sirius as you chat with your friends and bask in the sun.
You spend the remainder of the afternoon draped over Sirius, basking in the warmth of the sun as you chat with your friends. It's been a while since you've felt so at ease.
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
After lounging by the lake all afternoon, the thought of cleaning up for a party you had little interest in attending felt like an unnecessary chore. However, after an hour of James' persistent pleading, you eventually gave in and agreed to go. You were confused about why he insisted on your presence, especially when he'd be busy spending the evening with Lily. You couldn't help but think you could have been snug in bed with a good book instead.
“How long do you think it will take before they get together?” You turn to Remus, who is leaning against the wall next to you. He wasn't thrilled about coming tonight, either. The full moon was approaching, and he could already feel the effects beginning to take hold.
You scan the bustling room, eager to catch a glimpse of James and determine Lily's proximity. Impatience simmers within you as you wait for them to get together. Their relationship seems overdue, and you’re desperate for it to happen, bringing an end to the relationship you and Sirius are forced to maintain. Though being Sirius' girlfriend has its perks, the artificiality of the situation weighs on your conscience.
After a lazy afternoon enveloped in Sirius' arms, you had returned to your room feeling unsettled. The comfort of being held by Sirius felt genuine, yet it was all fake, and that realization deeply unsettles you. The longer this relationship goes on, the more you worry about your heart being left in pieces at the end.
“Probably any day now. Why? You aren’t having fun being Sirius’ girl?” Remus asks, casting a knowing smirk in your direction. You huff and give him a playful nudge, causing his drink to slosh around in his cup. He chuckles in response, amused by your reaction.
"It's not that, and you know it." You respond, frustration evident in your tone.
Remus turns towards you, a genuine smile on his face this time, "You guys are doing quite the job of looking infatuated with each other."
You shoot him a warning look, sensing where the conversation is headed.
But Remus persists, his gaze steady, "You should consider telling him how you feel."
You scoff. "Absolutely not."
"Why not? What have you got to lose?"
You meet his gaze, incredulous, "Our friendship, for starters."
Remus shakes his head, "Do you really think Sirius would end your friendship? I doubt you could get rid of him if you tried."
You meet Remus's gaze, your brow furrowed with uncertainty, "Okay, maybe he wouldn't end our friendship. But things would definitely get awkward, and who knows where it could lead."
Remus offers a small smile, "Or it could go well. You could end up together."
You remain silent, the weight of Remus's words sinking in as you contemplate the idea of confessing your feelings to Sirius. Your stomach churns with anxiety at the mere thought of opening up to him. The fear of rejection and the potential fallout from confessing weighs heavy on your chest.
But Lily had shared with you that Sirius had opened up about his feelings for you. Maybe there was a possibility that confessing your own feelings might not be as far-fetched as you had assumed. Maybe being with Sirius wasn't entirely out of reach.
Remus observes the slight furrow in your brow as you chew on your bottom lip, a clear indication of your spiraling thoughts. The dim light of the common room highlights the unease on your face. "Do you want a drink?" He offers, his voice gentle and reassuring.
You pause, considering his offer, grateful for the distraction, "Yes, please." You respond with a small smile, the tension in your shoulders easing slightly.
As Remus leaves to fetch you a drink, you're left alone with your thoughts, the chatter and laughter of the crowded common room serving as a backdrop to your contemplation. Your eyes wander over the sea of bodies, each occupied with their own conversations and activities, creating a lively yet chaotic atmosphere.
“Y/n, hi!” You startle as Max Townsend stands beside you, his sudden presence catching you off guard. You recall being partners in Charms a couple of weeks ago, but beyond that, your interactions had been limited.
"Hey, Max." You greet with a soft smile, noticing how his shoulders relax slightly at your acknowledgment. He settles against the wall, his posture casual yet attentive, as if genuinely interested in chatting with you.
"I know we haven’t talked much since Charms, but I’ve been meaning to catch up with you." Max says, his voice earnest as he breaks the silence between you.
You're surprised by his remark, "You have?" You ask, genuine curiosity coloring your tone.
"Yeah! I enjoyed spending time with you." Max admits, his voice slightly shaky as he offers you a shy smile. You notice the faint blush coloring his cheeks, a sign of nervousness.
"I enjoyed spending time with you too! I don’t think I could have passed the last exam without your help." You respond sincerely, returning his smile with warmth. His face lights up at your words, visibly relieved.
He regains some confidence and continues, "Actually, Y/n, I was wondering if you wanted to go to Hogsmeade sometime?"
Your smile falters, and you feel a pang of guilt. You have the excuse of having a boyfriend, at least. It makes things a little easier for you. For a second, you debate if you should say yes, go on a date, and move past your feelings for Sirius. But then you think about Lily‘s words and how he might possibly like you back. Not only that but you’re supposed to be in a relationship right now.
You can't bring yourself to say yes; truth be told, you don't really want to, anyway.
"That’s really sweet of you to ask. But I’m dating Sirius." You reply though the words feel heavy on your tongue, wishing they were true.
Max looks taken aback, "Sirius Black?"
"Yes." You confirm, feeling a wave of discomfort wash over you; turning someone down is always an awkward and uncomfortable experience.
Max shakes his head, looking confused, "I didn’t know Sirius-"
"You didn’t know what, Townsend?" Sirius looks hard at him, slipping his arm around your waist and handing you a drink. "Here, baby, Rem said you wanted a drink."
You thank him quietly, settling into his side with ease. Glancing up at him, you notice Sirius isn't looking at you; his gaze is fixed on Max. His jaw clenches tightly, and his usual friendly smile is absent. The message to Max is clear: back off, she's mine.
Max looks uneasy, eyes darting from you to Sirius, “Uh, I didn’t know you and Y/n were together.”
“And why were you talking about that?”
“Uh,” Max looks at you briefly, his expression tinged with panic. He lets out a sigh, reminiscent of a child caught in the act and resigned to confessing. “I asked her out.”
Sirius' entire body tenses, his tone laced with mock curiosity, “Did you?”
He feels sick at the thought of you going on a date with another guy. Images flash through his mind – Max holding your hand on a walk through Hogsmeade, flirting with you over dinner, and the possibility of him kissing you goodnight before you head back through the portrait at the end of the night.
A surge of intense emotion floods him, an overwhelming desire to lash out, to throw a punch and convey the unmistakable message that you are off-limits.
But then the reality hits him: you're not off limits. You're perfectly single, and maybe you actually wanted to go out with Max. The realization sinks in, gnawing at him from the inside, intensifying the ache in his chest.
“But look, man, I didn’t know she was your girl! Honest.”
"Max, it's okay. Really." You interject gently, offering him a reassuring smile. Max nods frantically, clearly relieved, before hurrying off in the opposite direction and disappearing into the crowd of Gryffindors.
“What the hell was that?” You turn to Sirius, but he refuses to meet your gaze. Instead, he drops his arm from your waist and leans back against the wall, taking a long sip from his drink, his expression unreadable
“Playing the part of your boyfriend. You should go find James, he was looking for you.” His mutterings reach your ears, and your stomach clenches with irritation as hurt flashes over your features. He's never shut down before you, and it hurts your feelings deeply.
You don’t bother saying anything; instead, you scoff and walk away. Sirius’s eyes follow you the second you leave, watching as you walk away with a heavy feeling settling in his stomach.
Maybe he did need to express his feelings to you. There might be a chance that you felt the same way. And if you didn't, at least he would know and could attempt to move on from you.
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
“I think you need to check on Sirius.” James murmurs into your ear as you stand in the common room, waiting for Lily to join you. You're flanked by the boys, but Sirius is conspicuously absent.
You glance over at him, confused, “Why? Is he not coming down?”
“He bailed, said he isn’t feeling good.”
“He isn’t coming to Hogsmeade with us?” You all had meticulously planned your trip to Hogsmeade during the lake outing yesterday, discussing the shops you wanted to visit and the Butterbeer you couldn't wait to taste.
“Oh,” You mutter, “I’ll check on him and catch up with you guys then.”
You still harbor concern for his well-being, a lingering sense of care that remains despite the the frustration you feel about last night. You ascend the stairs, faintly catching Peter's inquiry about your destination and James' response that you won't be joining them anymore. You contemplate turning around, half-tempted to inquire with James about his statement, but decided against it, choosing not to waste your energy.
You're so deeply immersed in your thoughts as you walk through the hall that you don't even notice the sound at first.
The muffled noise filtering through the boys' dorm door catches your attention, causing you to pause in front of the door. You briefly entertain the idea that Sirius might be genuinely unwell, but skepticism lingers in your mind. The persistent groans don't quite fit the pattern of someone who's just sick.
You were on the verge of turning around, genuinely considering it, until you caught a muffled moan that distinctly sounded like your name.
You pause, questioning the authenticity of what you just heard, wondering if it was a figment of your imagination or if you truly heard your name. But then you hear it, “Fuck, Y/n. Feels so good.”
Your legs turn to jelly, the words coursing through your veins like an electric shock, leaving you feeling stunned and breathless.
Without a second thought or even a plan forming in your mind, you find yourself knocking on the door. Inside, you hear a muffled curse followed by shuffling before Sirius swings the door open nearly a minute later, clad only in pajama pants. His hair is tousled, his cheeks flushed, and he's breathing heavily. The surprise on his face is evident as he takes in your unexpected presence.
“What were you just doing?” Your words spill out more confrontationally than you intended, catching Sirius off guard. The surprise flickers across his face, evident in how his eyebrows knit together and his eyes widen slightly.
“Uh, I-” He glances back into his room, searching for a believable excuse among his belongings. Flustered, he struggles to come up with a convincing lie.
"Sirius," You press, and his eyes flicker back to you. He appears guilty, aware that you've caught on. "I just heard you." You add, your tone that is firm but not accusatory.
“Merlin, Y/n. I’m sorry I-” He stammers, his heart sinking into the pit of his stomach at the mere thought of you possibly feeling disgusted with him or worse, refusing to remain his friend because of what he’s just done.
“What were you thinking about?” You ask instead, taking a deliberate step closer to him. The room feels charged with tension, and you can sense Sirius's unease. His breath hitches as your presence draws nearer, his eyes flickering with a mix of apprehension and anticipation.
He glances over your shoulder, his gaze flicking to the empty hallway outside before he answers, “You.”
“Me?” You take a tentative step closer, your voice barely a whisper compared to before, its tone huskier, laden with curiosity and perhaps a hint of intrigue. You fix him with a daring look, a glint of challenge in your eye, as if silently daring him to take action.
He remains silent, his gaze fixed on you for a fleeting moment before he takes action, grabbing your hand and pulling you into the dorm without a word.
As soon as the door shuts, he presses you against the door, his movements swift and urgent. You let out a gasp in surprise, feeling the sudden shift in atmosphere as Sirius's intensity envelops you. His eyes, usually filled with mischief, now bore into yours with a mixture of seriousness and vulnerability.
“Y/n. Why did you knock on the door?”
You don’t answer at first, your eyes locked with his for a few heartbeats before you let out a sigh, “Because I heard you say my name, and now I know you want me the same way that I’ve always wanted you.”
Sirius doesn’t hesitate, his lips meeting yours with a sense of urgency that sends a shiver down your spine. The moment his touch connects with yours, you exhale softly, feeling the warmth of his lips against yours. With gentle pressure, you draw him closer, your arms wrapping around his shoulders while Sirius’ embrace envelops you, pulling you closer as if he never wants to let go.
He initiates with a tender kiss on your lips, then gently nibbles on your bottom lip, eliciting a gasp. Seizing the opportunity of your parted lips, he intensifies the kiss, pressing forcefully into your mouth. Sirius kisses you as if each moment is the first and last time, molding you into pliancy. You willingly surrender, allowing him to kiss you into a state of blissful oblivion.
As he withdraws, a soft whimper escapes your lips in protest. He casts a questioning glance your way as he lifts the hem of your shirt, and you respond with a nod of affirmation. Slowly, he peels it off of you and lets it drop at your feet. Shamelessly, he admires your breasts and how they sit so pretty in your black bra. For a moment, the thought of apologizing for the simple garment crosses your mind, but the way his gaze lingers on you halts any inclination to do so.
He leans down, pressing kisses and nipping at the exposed skin on your neck and trailing his way down to your chest. It steals your breath away, prompting you to weave your fingers through his hair as you tilt your head back, reveling in the sensation. He's murmuring praises against your skin, ranting about how beautiful you are, how sweet your moans are, and how you drive him crazy. Your heart pounds within your chest, and for an instant, you fear its thunderous rhythm might betray you, considering how near he stands.
“Take it off.” In a hushed tone, you speak, prompting Sirius's gaze to swiftly rise and lock with yours.
He encircles you with his arms, quickly undoing your bra, and you deftly push the straps down, allowing the garment to cascade down, unveiling your skin. Swiftly, you toss it into the growing pile that appears to be taking shape by the door.
Sirius gazes intently, his bottom lip captured between his teeth, and a subtle furrow forms between his eyebrows, “Fucking hell, y’have the prettiest tits I’ve ever seen.”
Before you can utter a word, his mouth is on your breasts. Pressing the softest kisses onto your nipple before gently biting it, causing your breath to hitch. He bends down, mirroring the gesture with the other one.
His hands, possessively grip at your hips, act as anchors, momentarily keeping you in place. However, a growing restlessness takes hold, and you start to squirm, a subtle plea for more of his attention. Silently comprehending your unspoken desire, he wordlessly responds. A gentle tug on your hand is all the communication needed, and without a moment's hesitation, you obediently follow his lead.
Guiding you, he directs you to settle onto his bed, a silent request you readily heed. Your legs dangle over the edge of the bed as you rely on your elbows to bear all your weight.
Sirius kneels in front of you, easily slipping off both of your shoes and tossing them to the side. He reaches up, hooking his fingers into the waistband of your skirt before tugging it down and off of your legs. You’re left in a pair of gray panties that easily show how soaked you are for him.
He pushes on your knees until your legs are completely spread for him, and he can get a clear view of your soaked underwear. A hushed curse escapes his lips, the words slipping out quietly as his gaze lingers on you.
“You’re fucking stunning. I don’t know what I did to deserve this. To deserve you.” You bask in his words, your body thrumming with warmth and delight as his sweet sentiments wash over you.
He glances up at you, and he nearly loses it right then and there. You’re watching him through hooded eyes, your pupils dilated wide, a silent reflection of your anticipation and desire. He doubts he could ever erase the image of the way you're gazing at him, etching it into his memory with the fervent wish to witness it for the rest of his days.
He caresses his hands along your thighs, fingers gently squeezing and kneading with each pass. Occasionally, he leans down, planting tender kisses on your sensitive skin, each one a whispered promise of affection. The closer he gets to your core, the more you squirm and let out soft whimpers.
“Can I take your panties off?” He asks, glancing up at you from between your thighs. The pad of his thumb brushes against your clit, and you jolt in surprise.
A gasp escapes your lips as you're overtaken by the sensation, yet swiftly, you find yourself nodding frantically in response, “Please.”
Overrun with desperation, Sirius pulls at them with such fervor that they nearly tear as he tugs them off. You can't help but giggle at his fervor, amused by his frantic actions and the unmistakable look of pure desire written across his face. He wouldn't be surprised if he was drooling, staring the sight of your glistening pussy.
“I want to be inside of you.” He declares, standing up from the floor, leaning over you to firmly grasp your jaw before capturing your lips in a heady, intoxicating kiss. The moan that escapes you sounds so foreign, so unlike yourself, that it catches you by surprise, leaving you momentarily taken aback. You don't bother vying for dominance, allowing him to take control of the kiss. He withdraws from you leaving your chest heaving and breaths coming in ragged gasps.
“Take your pants off.” You demand, reaching desperately for the band of his pajamas to shove them off. Sirius beats you to the task, swiftly shoving them off himself in a display of impatience.
“Sirius.” Drool pools in your mouth at the sight of him. Long, thick, and pretty. Your lips part slightly, and you look up at Sirius in surprise, caught off guard by him. For a fleeting moment, you sit there, eyes locked, contemplating whether you'll be able to take him or not. He’s bigger than anyone you have ever been with before.
Sirius doesn’t let you stare for too long before his fingers are sliding through your soaked folds and brushing over your clit. Whimpers and moans tumble past your lips as Sirius rubs firm circles over you to get you adjusted before dipping down and pressing two fingers into you. A cry escapes you at the intrusion, and your hand instinctively reaches down to grip his bicep firmly.
Sirius startles you by leaning down and pressing the softest kiss to your clit, before licking you the bundle of nerves softly. Your body tenses with pleasure, hands gripping the sheets beneath you.
“I’ve always wanted to taste you.” He confesses a surge of heat courses through your body, igniting every nerve ending as you absorb his words. He doesn’t waste another second before leaning down and gently sucking on your clit.
"Please don't stop." You plead softly, and Sirius complies, continuing with unwavering determination. He nips and sucks, licking through your folds and holding your thighs open for him. His fingers continue to slide in and out of you; the sounds you’re making are obscene.
You’re struck by the thojught that this doesn't compare to any other times that you’ve been eaten out. But maybe it's not just his technique that feels good; it might be the fact that its Sirius who’s between your legs.
Your thighs tremble, and a euphoric sensation begins to build up in your stomach, making it feel like you are floating on a delightful high.
“Sirius, I need you.” You gasp sharply, your fingers instinctively tugging on his hair, signaling for him to ease up. You wanted to come together for your first time, as cheesy as it may have been.
As he rises to his feet, your eyes meet, and contagious, goofy smiles spread across both of your faces. In this shared moment, a mutual understanding passes between you—acknowledging the absurdity of the situation yet reveling in the fact that there's nowhere else you'd rather be.
You watch as he wraps his hand around himself, dragging his hand up and down a few times. He whispers for you to scoot back until your head rests against the pillow, and with a gentle nod, you comply. He follows suit, settling on his haunches before you, creating a comforting, intimate space between you both.
“Y’ready?” He asks in a hushed tone, leaning in to hover over you, and at that moment, a rush of memories floods your mind, reminiscent of yesterday by the lake. You're convinced you must look rather pathetic with the speed of your nod, but Sirius only responds with a sweet smile.
With a grip on his cock, he slides the tip through your slick, both of you sucking in a breath at the sensation. He gently pushes at your entrance. Sirius steals a glance up at you, silently seeking reassurance, and you respond with a simple nod and a warm smile, letting him know that everything is perfect. Sirius catches you off guard as he leans down, tenderly pressing the gentlest of kisses to your lips, a gesture filled with unexpected sweetness.
His gaze shifts, watching as he pushes his cock inside of you, letting out a string of curses as your pussy grips him tight, pulling him deeper inside.
“Fuck,” Gritting his teeth, he squeezes his eyes shut, breathing deeply through his nose, determined to regain control and prevent himself from losing composure. He’s sitting fully inside you, and he has to take a breather because you feel better than he could have ever imagined. The last thing he wants is for this to end as soon as it begins.
His voice sounds utterly shattered, “You’re so wet, fuck.”
You entwine your fingers in his hair, feeling the soft strands between your fingertips as you pull him closer, urging him to meet your lips with his own. The anticipation builds as his warm breath mingles with yours, creating an intimate connection before the gentle press of his lips against yours. Parting your lips, you deepen the kiss, and Sirius eagerly reciprocated.
“Sirius. Fuck me, please.” You exhale softly against his lips, and Sirius responds with a low, guttural groan of longing and desire.
He doesn’t waste any time before dragging his cock along the sensitive walls of your pussy, before thrusting back into you, “God, your pussy feels incredible.” The cry that escapes you resonates loudly in the room, and you're immensely grateful that everyone is out at Hogsmeade. The absence of others allows you the freedom to be as uninhibited as you are, knowing that the full dorms would never afford you the same level of privacy and volume.
“Feels so good.” You gasp, head rolling to the side, your cheek resting against the pillows. Sirius’ hands rest against the back of your thighs, holding your legs against your chest, giving a clear view of the way his cock is so seamlessly slipping inside of you.
He watches you, transfixed on the way your brows pinch together in pleasure, lips parting to let moans slip past. It's as if a dam has burst within Sirius, an unstoppable torrent of words and emotions pouring forth as he finds himself unable to contain everything he's been holding back.
“Fuck, you sound s’pretty, sweet girl,” The groan that leaves his lips is downright sinful. “Thought about this pretty pussy all day. Pretended to be sick just to get off to the thought of you.”
“Sirius.” You whine, reaching out to thread your fingers through his hair and pull him down to you. You’re soaked and aching, desperate for Sirius to fuck you faster. However, much to your disappointment, he remains insistent on maintaining a slow, teasing pace.
“Pictured, tugging that fucking bikini top down. Watching your tits bounce while I fuck you. Fuck, cumming all over them.” The whine that escapes you feels pathetic, and under different circumstances, you would've been embarrassed by it. However, given the situation you're in, embarrassment takes a backseat.
“I know, baby. I know.” He complies, adjusting his position so that his right arm supports him above you while his left hand gently traces your skin. Brushing over your nipples, trailing up and over your tits, before placing his hand loosely around the base of your throat.
“You’re fucking perfect,” He grunts, admiring how ruined you look for him. Your mascara smudged beneath your eyes from tears, and your lips swollen from his earlier kisses. He loved seeing you like this. Being the one to ruin you, to smudge your makeup and bring you to tears. “Taking my cock s’well.”
You’re incoherent, begging for Sirius to go harder, to fuck you faster. Hands pawing at his ass, desperately trying to bring him closer.
His hand squeezes your throat gently, “Tell me you want me to fuck you harder. C’mon love, wanna hear you beg for it.”
A smug grin tugs on Sirius’ lips as he watches you struggling to form words. You’re getting close if the way you’re squeezing him so tight and rolling your hips is any indicator.
But then a desperate, needy whine with the words he so badly wants to hear slips past your lips. Babbling about needing his cock and wanting him to ruin you. The second he hears your pleas, he thrusts into you harder, setting a brutal new pace that has you crying for him.
“I’ll give you anything you ask for, m’love.” He speaks so sincerely that you feel a surge of emotions welling up inside, an overwhelming urge threatening to bring tears to your eyes.
Overcome with your emotions, you reach for Sirius’ hand and interlace them together before Sirius presses your clasped hands into the sheets. His headboard thumps against the wall rhythmically.
“Need you to fill me up. Please.” You plead desperately, and Sirius curses, his voice rough and strained.
“Shit, that’s my girl. Want me to fill you with my cum?” It's the praise that pushes you over the edge. Your back arches, pressing your breasts into Sirius’ chest and your legs tremble.
“Doing so good f’me.” He’s close behind you. Your tight, wet walls clenching around him is what does it for him.
“Fuck, baby. Gonna cum. Fuck.” Sirius moans, burying his head in the crook of your neck as his hips stutter and you cry out at the feeling of his warm cum filling you up. You clench his hand tightly, your nails likely leaving imprints on his skin. A sob escapes your lips, and your fingers weave through his hair, a desperate attempt to draw him closer.
You both remain entwined, lost in each other's embrace as you gradually come down from the euphoric highs. The room resonates with the sound of your intertwined breaths, each one heavy and labored. Your body feels utterly slack, every muscle loosened, and you're so relaxed that you could easily doze off at any moment.
Sirius presses a couple of tender kisses against your neck, eliciting a satisfied hum from you. When he withdraws from you, a wince escapes you as you feel the separation, and Sirius’ eyes dart up to you in concern.
“Y’okay, sweet girl?”
“I’m okay, just sore.” You grace him with a sweet smile, and Sirius leans in, gently pressing a tender kiss to your forehead.
“Gonna get a towel, one second.” He assures you, rising from the bed and disappearing into the bathroom. You listen to the faucet running and the faint sounds of the cupboard opening and closing. Lying back, you gaze up at the ceiling, absently nibbling on your thumbnail until a smile breaks across your face at the thought of what just happened.
“Here, love.” Sirius says, sitting on the edge of the bed holding a washcloth in his hand. He’s got a fresh pair of pajama pants on, you didn’t even notice him grab clothes from his trunk, too lost in your thoughts.
Sirius gently grips your ankle, encouraging you to spread your legs. His breath hitches at the sight of his cum dripping out of you and onto his sheets, desperately hoping to see this sight again. He murmurs a curse under his breath, his touch gentle as he delicately uses the warm washcloth to clean between your thighs.
“There.” He whispers softly before aiding you to sit up. As you glance over, you notice the t-shirt and pajama pants laid out beside him, meant for you. Your heart swells with warmth as he assists you in slipping it over your head. With a grateful smile, you slide into the pajama pants. Meanwhile, Sirius utters evanesco to fix the sheets up, before joining you in bed.
“C’mere.” He beckons to you, sinking into the pillows, and you nestle against him, finding solace as you rest your head on his chest.
In the silence, you both relish the comfort of each other's embrace, enveloped in a cocoon of intimacy. Lost in contemplation, your mind wanders, grappling with what just happened and what that meant for the both of you.
"That wasn't just a one-time thing, was it?" You inquire, the hopefulness evident in your tone.
"No," Sirius responds, tilting your chin so you can meet his gaze. "I want you to be mine, for real this time."
The fluttering butterflies that dance through your stomach are overwhelming as you absorb his words. A lovesick grin spreads across your lips, unable to contain the rush of emotions coursing through you, “Then I'm all yours."
You settle back into Sirius, and his arms hold you against him. The rhythmic rise and fall of his chest beneath your head lull you into a serene state, the sound of his steady heartbeat serving as a soothing lullaby that guides you into a peaceful sleep.
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
"I'm sorry, so you asked us to fake it not for Lily, but for Sirius and I to get together?" You gaze at James, confused, knitting your brows, while he sits opposite you at the table. Remus and Sirius are absorbed in their own conversation, and Peter is having breakfast with the girl he harbors a crush on. Despite their current status as friends, Peter seems overjoyed nonetheless.
James grins, casting you a smug look. "I mean, Lily genuinely thought you and I were a thing. At first, it really was because Lily thought we were together, but then I realized that this was the perfect way to get you and Sirius together.”
“James! So you lied to us?” You huff in disbelief.
James shrugs nonchalantly, his demeanor radiating an air of casual indifference, “You already knew I lied to Lily; what’s the difference?”
You sigh softly, "That's true, but what about you and Lily? Are you two getting together?"
James smiles, “We’ll get there eventually. This was more about you and Sirius. And before you start, yes, I’ll tell her the truth.” He sends you a pointed look, and you chuckle, already preparing to remind him to come clean to Lily.
"You're certifiably insane." You tease, exhaling a laugh.
“Well, it worked, didn’t it? You got the guy.” James watches with delight as a lovesick smile effortlessly graces your face before you steal a glance at Sirius.
"Oh, hey. Pick up your clothes next time you're napping with Sirius," He remarks casually, but the emphasis on the word napping lets you know that he's fully aware there was more happening than just sleep. "My shoe got tangled in your bra."
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writtenbymoonflower · 2 months
Note
how about
and hear me out
room mate! marauders who are obsessed with their shy roomate
oh trust me, hunny, i am hearing you. hope this is okay! shy gn!reader x poly!marauders
cw: nothing really, just fluff, reader is very flustered
1.1k words
Your eyes were blurry as you shuffled into the sunny kitchen. You weren’t used to waking up to the curtains open and breakfast on the stove. You’d lived with people before of course, but none as lively as this bunch. You weren’t complaining, though, you were quickly warming to them, even though you had probably spoken a total of 50 words to your new housemates in the three weeks you had lived with them. Most of these words likely consisting of sorry, excuse me, thank you. 
They had been talking though. Ever since the day you met they had been treating you like their best friend. Not even that. They were all best friends. (Though you considered that wasn’t all, on more than one occasion you had caught Sirius with his head in James’ lap, or Remus’ legs swung over one of the other boys. You had also observed a fair number of kisses between the three boys). But rather, they treated you like something precious, like a porcelain doll they were begging to get a hold of.
That thought made you immediately think of the nickname Sirius (or ‘Pads’ as the boys occasionally called him) had stuck you with. 
“Hey, dollface! You sleep well?” The coal-haired boy looked like he was itching to beckon you under his arm, but resisted. You were thankful, not knowing if you could survive that.
“It was good.” You hummed, barely legible to James over the sound of his bacon sizzling. You padded over to the breakfast table, sitting one chair away from Sirius and his huge bowl of cereal. No sooner had you sat down when a steaming cup of coffee was placed in front of you by a spindly hand. 
“Here you go, dovey.” Remus sat in the chair between you and Sirius. 
“Oi, Moons. You’re blocking my view.” You turned in your chair to look behind you at the ‘view’ he was referring to, brows scrunching in confusion when all you saw was the archway. You heard a light chuckle from Remus and a snicker from Sirius as you whipped back around. The possible meaning dawned on you, making you his your heated face in your mug.
“Don’t torture the poor thing.” James scolded, giving a (what you were sure he believed was comforting) squeeze to your shoulder before he sat on your other side.
“I never tortured anyone.” Remus corrected from behind his morning paper, slowly eating a cup of berry-yogurt. “Collective punishment is a war crime, Prongs” 
“Leavin’ me to the wolves huh, Moons?” Sirius sassed, sipping on his coffee that was mostly just cream and sugar. 
“Oh trust me, I’m sure we all know how much you’d love to be left to the wolf.” James smirked, clearly in on a joke that you had no idea about. He abandoned his teasing to turn to you, fixing a horribly kind look that made your tummy turn to mush. “There is some bacon and eggs on the stove for breakfast, but I’m sure Sirius would let you into his cereal.” 
“There’s also yogurt.” Remus looked pointedly to his near-empty cup. 
“Oh no, I’m okay. I could never take your food. I’m not hungry anyway.” You muttered into your mug. 
“You’ve gotta eat somethin’ babydoll. Can’t have you skipping meals.” Sirius had a playful, if not protective tilt to his tone. 
“I’ll find somethin’ don’t worry.” You scrubbed your bleary eyes with irritated cadence, still on the brink of sleep despite the warm caffeine swirling in your system. Thick fingers wrapped around your wrist to pull your offending hand away. 
“Gentle, sweetheart.” James scolded lightly. “Gonna hurt yourself like that.” He squeezed your hand before letting it go but it felt oddly like your face and your lungs were being squeezed as well. If this was the boys normal, you weren’t sure if you were going to survive. 
You mumbled a sorry looking at the mahogany table like it held the meaning of life, or the extra hour of sleep you desperately craved. 
“What’ve we told you? You say sorry too much, sweet thing. It’s like, your favorite word or something.” Sirius laughed, slurping down his cereal milk and licking his chops. You bit back another apology and rubbed your eyes again, though much more gentle this time. James cooed in sympathy. 
“You still sleepy?” He rubbed your back again, which made you both more heated and more drowsy. 
“Yeah.” You hummed, shamefaced as you played with the hem of your oversized t-shirt. You were thankful that you were still too shy to not wear long pants around them, because they would definitely be able to tell how tensed your legs were. Remus set his paper down.
“Do you have work today, love?” 
“No, ‘s my day off.” James grinned at that, but Sirius spoke up. 
“Happy coincidence! It’s ours too.” He grinned. “How about we all watch something? We can put something on in the lounge room and you can catch a bit of sleep on the settee?” He suggested. You shrunk at the thought of sleeping in front of them, but weren’t opposed to the idea.
“We’ll make sure to wake you up so you don’t sleep the day away.” James added, still rubbing your back. You were easily convinced. 
“Okay, that does sound nice.” Barely above a whisper. 
“We can all have a big lunch when you get up, too. Maybe we could go out?” Remus suggested as he led you gently to the living room. You tried to make your way to the armchair, but you were tugged to the couch. 
“That won’t be comfy, dollface. Here you go.” Sirius sat on the settee close to one arm, Remus by the other. Sirius pulled you between them while James sat on the floor and you whined in protest. 
“No, I’ll move. You sit here, James.”
Remus swore that was the loudest he had ever heard you speak. 
“No, I’m good right here. Thanks though, sweetness.” James reassured. He was sat in the middle, though rather close to Remus so the mousy boy could reach out with one hand and scratch James’ scalp, roving his long fingers through the thick curls. You were so distracted that you were startled when Sirius tugged on you again, maneuvering your head onto a pillow that laid on his lap. You tensed before relaxing into his warmth. You tucked your legs into yourself as Remus covered you with a blanket before going back to loving on James. 
“There you go, baby. That feel nice?” Sirius said, unfamiliarly soft as he stroked your hair, hand a welcome warmth on your scalp. 
Baby. Baby. Baby.
It would surprise you if you woke up from this nap. Your heart had nearly stopped on the spot.
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bettysupremacy · 2 months
Note
hii! I was wondering if you could write a fic with reader and any marauder (they all fit) and maybe helping or becoming protective over the reader after a concert or party after a creep follows the reader? 😭
I went through a similar experience with a guy following me around after I went to the restroom after a concert, and it ruined my night if i'm being honest, I was scared 😞 I'm not the most shy of people and usually I can handle myself but it was pretty dark and idk the adrenaline from feeling happy to scared shifted pretty quickly. Luckily I found my friends and let them know and we quickly went back to our car (along with a few dirty looks from my friends god bless lol). I swore I could go to the restroom by myself- will not be doing that again :(
you can ignore this request if it makes you uncomfortable!
thank uu
i’m so sorry that happened to you! “(they all fit)”= poly marauders!
There’s something about post concert depression, especially when you’re with the band.
Your glitter eyeshadow is smudged, eyeliner untouched. You’d been shaken around in the pit of your boyfriends fans, and yet the paint hasn’t budged. God bless water-proof makeup. The world seems prettier like this, touched by alcohol and the feeling of soaring pride for your boyfriends. The glittery lights and signs of time square never fail to dazzle you, even now as you lean against Sirius morosely.
“M’hungry.” You frown, toes tipping up towards Sirius, though you fear the mumble may have been more for yourself.
His attention is diverted towards the boys as they discuss what to do now. Plans of how to get home and where to eat. His finger taps your cheek slowly, his focus paying you no mind. Words like Uber, hotel, room service echo throughout their very repetitive conversation.
“Sirius.”
He looks down, a little shocked and sorry at his own attention. “Yes, lovely?”
“M’hungry.”
“Hungry?” He asks, cringing. You’re about thirty minutes from the hotel, and even then, room service will take another thirty.
“So hungry.”
He sighs, unsure of what to do.
“There’s a hotdog stand over there.” You grab his tattooed bicep to balance yourself as you point to your right.
He thinks, peering down at you. “This won’t ruin your dinner?” It’s midnight, but still.
“No,” you sing, reaching up to cup his cheeks. “I really want a hotdog.
He flushes, looking away from your wandering eyes. Normally he wouldn’t let you out of his sight. They would never let you out of their sight in a place like this. But the cart is in eye view of the boys, and he has faith in you not to stray, even in your inebriated manor. It’s not that they don’t trust you, they just prefer to keep you safe themselves. Is that okay?
“Okay,” He murmurs, pulling out his wallet, handing you his card. “At least get the good toppings.”
“I always get the good toppings.” You pull away.
The walk is short and the cart is colorful. Red and white stripes, curvy calligraphy. It shines in your inebriated vision. Beautiful. The queues not long, just an older man waiting in front of you, but it feels like forever as the generous man (with the toppings as well) takes your order and wraps it in warm aluminum foil.
You take the hotdog eagerly. “Thank you.”
It’s heavy in your hands, warm too. You yell Sirius’ name excitedly, waving the hotdog above your head for him to see. He laughs, thumbs up until you bump into a man, smile fading, concern etching his brows.
“Oh,” you murmur, looking up. “I’m sorry.”
“No problem,” he smiles. It’s uncomfortable, not the smile of a friendly civilian.
You laugh. It’s polite, anyone can see that, but he leans closer. He smells like liquor, a disgusting discovery that has you subconsciously leaning away.
“You new around here?”
An actual laugh stumbles out of your lips. “London? No.”
He takes this as an entrance. “You should show me around.”
“No, thank you.” You try to walk past him. Towards Sirius who’s already walking over. “Goodnight.”
“Wait,” he grabs your arm, pulling you back. His fingers dig into your elbow painfully.
“What the fuck,” you gasp, pulling your arm away roughly. “don’t touch me.”
“C’mon,” The man slurs, fingers reaching for you again. “Don’t be-“
“Hello?” Sirius walks up, all stock. He grabs your forearm pulling you to him firmly, getting in between you and the man. He’s not much taller, but more intimidating in demeanor. “Do we have a problem?”
“No,” the man scoffs.
“Cause it looks like you put your hands on her.”
He scoffs again, clearly inebriated. “We were just talking.”
“Well, conversations over now.”
“She can make her own decisions.”
“Fuck off, bro.” Sirius waves his hand dismissively. Quickly, he walks you towards the boys who are peeking their eyes up from the Uber app.
“She was asking for it.”
Sirius reels back, dropping your forearm to shove the scary stranger in the chest. He pushes hard, the man losing his balance as he falls to the ground in a sickening thud. You gasp loudly, the unexpected conflict startling you. Vaguely you hear Sirius say something to him, but you’re too focused on the way the man looks up at you.
James and Remus are there in seconds, quick on Sirius’s heels. They pull at him, up and off the man. There were no real punches thrown, no real injuring blows, it wasn’t even enough to form a crowd. But still, you’re shaken. You shiver like a leaf under your James’ leather jacket, suddenly not feeling the warmth of the alcohol you’d consumed before the concert.
Slowly, you stumble back and way from your boys, to the bench next to the shitty bar you’d passed on your way home. That had been scary, but you’re safe; that had been scary, but Sirius dealt with it. You bring your hand up to your chest, setting the hotdog you had been eager to buy down next to you.
“Hi,” Remus pushes aside the hotdog to sit next to you. “Are you okay?”
You look up to the boy, blindingly beautiful in the streetlights and advertisements. “Yes.”
He pushes some stray hair from your face. “He didn’t hurt you?”
“I think it was more startling.” James sits on the other side of you, kissing your temple firmly. “I’m sorry he did that.”
“It’s okay, I’m okay.”
“She’s okay.” Sirius gruffs from where he walks over.
He sounds cooler than he thinks he looks. He’s not bruised, bloodied, or bandaged, if he were he thinks he’d look cool enough to breeze over. But then again you look mad, so maybe he doesn’t want that.
“Don’t be upset,” Sirius crouches to your level. You’re in the arms of a solid Remus. “he was a creep.”
“Are you hurt?”
“Are you trying to tell me something?” He laughs roguishly. “I thought I looked good tousled.”
He does, and you know he’ll look good on the tabloids tomorrow too. Sirius black gives black eye? You sigh at the thought.
“You do.” James feeds Sirius.
“At least someone in this relationship cares for my ego.”
“You look good.”
“Oh, now you tell me.”
You laugh, letting Sirius stare at you like you hung the moon.
“Kiss em?” He pushes his knuckles in front of your lips. His fingers throb lightly, you can feel it on your lips.
“That was stupid.”
“C’mon,” Sirius’ eyes roll as he pulls you up. “You’ve got a hotdog to eat.”
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slythergirl666 · 3 months
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sirius black who tries not to smoke around you. sirius black who introduces you to underground rock bands. sirius black who loves concert dates. sirius black who secretly loves the arctic monkeys more than you do. sirius black who learns your favorite songs on the guitar so he can serenade you. sirius black who pretends to be mad when you get cold (bc you conveniently forgot your coat), but who secretly loves to see you in his oversized leather jacket. sirius black who cries because you care more about him than his family ever did. sirius black who borderline begs you to sneak up to the astronomy tower with him at 3am because he can't sleep and you're the only one who would understand. sirius black who takes so much sugar in his coffee it could kill a diabetic. sirius black who does your eyeliner for you.
remus lupin. james potter.
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slytherweasley · 1 year
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Late (poly marauders x reader)
Warnings: swearing, smut, oral, penetration, unprotected sex, shower sex, dirty talk
Summary: the marauders are known for being late because of their needs constantly being fulfilled.
(Thank you so much for 5k)
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You always ended up being late no matter where you would go. People started noticing when you would be early or on time rather than when you were late. You never had a problem with it before you were dating your three boyfriends.
Now you had to satisfy the needs of your three teenage boyfriends who are constantly horny and their needs make you needy. The weekends are usually spent in their dorm fucking all day long.
You started getting ready for school and other commitments earlier however it didn’t fix the problem. You’d get in the shower in the morning and Remus would meet you in there.
“Morning baby” he says undressing and getting into the shower with you. “Morning Rem” you press a kiss to his lips and shortly after your greetings you’d be pressed up against the shower wall as Remus pounds into you.
It was almost a daily ritual.
“Fuck right there” you wrap your legs tighter around his torso as he brings you both closer to your orgasm. “Such a good girl” he groans into your ear sending you over the edge and finishing around him.
He finishes inside you, cleans you up and you’re both ready for the day until your other two boyfriends wake up. “Y/n” James whines, you cuddle up next to him “morning Jamie” you press a kiss to his forehead “you’re so pretty” he compliments.
You could already feel how hard he was. “You want me to suck your cock?” You ask and press a kiss to his cheek “yes, yes I do please” he begs.
You pull down his pyjama pants letting his cock free and waste no time in sucking him off. Sirius gets up “fuck this is hot” he says. He gets onto the bed and lifts up your skirt pulling down your underwear.
James’s moans make you incredibly wet as Sirius discovers. “Baby, you’re so fucking wet, I just want to help you” you take your lips off James’s cock “Siri, please eat me out” James whines at the cold air hitting his cock.
You move your mouth back onto his cock and Sirius eats you out from behind. Remus watches from his bed jerking off to the three of you.
James groans each time you moan around his cock. “I’m close” he warns and finishes in your mouth. Sirius flips you over so you’re laying beside James allowing him better access to your pussy.
James joins Sirius in eating you out, his tongue teases your entrance. Remus joins the three of you and pressed kisses to your face and neck.
You hold onto Remus’s hand as you finish. The boys clean you up and fix your uniform as you calm down after the intense high.
Once the four of you are ready you make it to the end of breakfast grabbing whatever is left and quickly eating it on the way to your next class.
After your first class of the day, Sirius met you outside your class and walked you to your next class with him. You are potions partners which meant Sirius could be close to you, he rested his hand on your thigh and you knew he had a motive.
His hand slowly crept up your thigh until he was circling your clit over your underwear. You looked at him as you tried not to make a sound. Your hand moves to his bulge massaging his semi hard cock.
As soon as you were dismissed you made your way to the closest broom closet. Sirius casts a silencing spell and pulls your underwear down. You help him unbutton his constricted pants and underwear letting his cock free.
He pushes you up against the wall and shoves himself inside you immediately pounding inside you. You were both the vocal ones in your relationship. Sirius grunts and groans keeping his hands securely around your waist muttering filthy words into your ear.
“So tight, just want to fill you up with my cock.” “Stretching out that tight little pussy.” You moan and squeeze around him.
He fucks into your a couple more times. “Fuck so wet” he cries out “so good” you moan. “Gonna pull out and cum in your mouth baby, ok?” You nod. He pulls out and you bring your mouth to his cock as he finishes and you swallow it all.
He helps you put your underwear on and fixes your skirt “thank you” you say your head still foggy and submissive “No baby, thank you. You’re too good to me” he presses a kiss to your forehead.
Sirius walks you to your class pressing a kiss on your lips before you walk in late and sit next to Remus. “At least one of you was on time today” your professor says,
Remus already could tell you’d been fucked. “Sirius?” He questions you “yeah, like 2 minutes ago” you could tell by Remus’s tone and body language he was a bit jealous he didn’t get to join in.
From then to the end of the day you’d met up with Remus to suck him off in an empty hallway and James had eaten you out in a broom closet.
You never seemed to tire of their neediness. It made you feel loved and wanted.
Both you and James always had the last class off on a Thursday. You met in his dorm, he was already in and excited to see you, he meets you with a kiss and starts undressing.
“In a rush Jamie?” You ask “I need to you to ride me” “It’s okay I will.” James undresses you down to your underwear, your lips connect with his as the two of you desperately hunger for each other.
“I need to be inside you” James mumbles against your lips quickly before pressing his lips to yours once again. You tug on James’ hair, he moans into the kiss.
You finally give in to him and start to unclasp your bra and pull off your underwear. James sits up getting undressed and waits for you with his cock hard and painful.
You straddle him lining him up with your entrance, you both give each other a meaningful look of anticipation. You sink down onto his cock, you both moan at the feeling.
You move up and down until you find the perfect pace that fills the room up with your moans and the sound of your skin meeting as you ride him. Your hips move up and down and side to side making yourself feel good on his cock.
The door swings open, Sirius and Remus walk in. “Fuck me” Sirius drops his bag and walks over to the bed “Is Jamie being a good boy for you, darling?” Remus asks “yes so good” you don’t stop the pace until you feel yourself getting close.
Sirius touches you all over placing kisses on your jaw and neck while Remus holds your hand. “Fuck I’m almost there” you let your hips move at a fast pace moving in every direction that makes you feel good. You look over at James as he looks infatuated with you, you can tell he is close.
“Jamie, you don’t cum until I do” he nods. He concentrates on not finishing. You feel yourself getting closer, the boys can tell you’re almost there. “Good girl” Remus presses a kiss to your cheek “cum for us sweetheart” Sirius encourages.
You squeeze around James and finish around him, seconds later you feel James finish inside you.
You cuddle up next to James while Remus cleans you up. You feel your eyes getting heavier as you drift off to sleep.
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infictionalwonderland · 10 months
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hot physiotherapist | j.potter
SUMMARY, james has a rugby accident and has to take physiotherapy - he’s pretty down about, but all that depressions forgotten as soon as he sees you, his physiotherapist. why had he not done this sooner?
James Potter was miserable.
A very odd occurrence, although it did happen (evidently). He was pouting the whole way as Remus drove them to the physiotherapists, Sirius was giggling to himself in the backseat the whole time—Remus, ever the angel he was, tried to cheer James up by giving him complete control over the music in the car and even greeting him with his coffee order and a chocolate croissant.
James was still miserable.
“Have fun, darling boy!” Sirius chirped out the window as James got out of the car, “try not to break any bones on your way in. God forbid you need physiotherapy.”
He burst out into borderline manic cackles and fell down completely into the row of backseats, never one to wear his seatbelt as he hated being constricted—James glared with upmost venom and hatred at the backseat windows, Tarzan looking cunt.
“I hope everything goes well.” Remus’ voiced gently, shooting his boyfriend a blank stare even as he tried to stop his own amusement. “D’ya want me to fetch you any food or anything for you when you come out?”
“No. Thanks.”
Remus winced.
James was still miserable.
He trotted his way indoors, cursing inside his head at the shooting pains all up his back and his hips, with the largest pout there ever was he made his way over to the reception and told them who he was—why he was here, before behind asked to take a seat in one of the rooms where he would be joined shortly by the physiotherapist.
He sat, frowning at the large room with equipment and soft turquoise coloured walls for a short about of time and then the door opened.
And then his world stopped.
In you stepped. . your hair was tugged into a low ponytail, front strands out of the pony to frame your face. He had died, he was certain. Your skin looked so soft, the beaming white lights giving you the most heavenly glow, he was sure you were an actual angel. Your eyes gleamed beautifully, and he was lost in the exact shade of them—trying to pinpoint every little detail and speck of colour. Your lips were pulled into such a fucking lovely smile, he could’ve melted (he did melt). Even from where you stood in the door, he was greeted in the pleasant aroma of your perfume and he felt like he was floating.
Your mouth was open—oh my god he was missing an opportunity to hear your voice—wait, what had you been saying. Balls.
“Um—h—muhuh?”
Double balls.
Your beautiful smile didn’t even waver in the slightest, though, amusement weaved it’s way into your eyes and created a mesmerising pattern into your irises that he forever engraved into his memory.
“It’s lovely to meet you, Mr Potter! My names Y/N and I’ll be your physiotherapist for the foreseeable future.” You grinned, walking closer to him, “Hopefully.”
Wha—was that flirting? No! You had said it in a normal tone, like Hi I hope I stay your physiotherapist because it is literally my job, James and I enjoy it. But—yeah, no. It was like that. You were so close to him now—so so much more beautiful up close, he didn’t think that was even humanly attainable.
“Yeah—i—I hope so too, ma’am.”
MA’AM?!
Somebody sedate me, he thought.
You didn’t seem thrown off or even slightly offended, or disgusted by him. Which was, good, really, really good.
Instead, you let out this little bubbly burst of laughter and fucking hell, James knew from that point he was gone and could never return. His eyes were probably comically wide and maybe in literal heart shapes but he could truly care less. He look at you in awe—your nose scrunched when you laughed, your eyes squinted and to James you just became even more perfect.
“Please, call me Y/N—Ma’am sounds overly American anyway—“
“Would you prefer Miss?”
I’m never leaving the house again.
You blinked.
He almost stumbled to his knees in apology though that would obviously only give you the impression he was more of a creep than you already thought he was—but—hold on. He watched, mouth falling open just slightly, as your cheeks flushed a very very pretty pink and your mouth formed into the cutest smile he’d ever seen in his entire life.
He was definitely leaving the house again, and it was going to be to come here everyday.
“Just Y/N is fine, thank you for being so considerate though.” You laughed teasingly.
“Can I be upgraded to just James?”
“Oh? You don’t want to he called miss? Or Ma’am?” You grinned at him, white teeth glistening from under your full lips, cheeks turning a faint rosy shade under the strength of your grin and a strand of hair swooping in front of your eye. He was in love. “Or, Sir maybe?”
Jesus Christ of Nazareth.
James is one hundred percent that he would’ve fallen over fast first had he been standing and he’s never been more thankful he’s not. He can feel his cheeks turn red—his face heating up to an embarrassingly tomato red state at an embarrassingly quick rate.
“Nah—Ju—Just James, please.” He huffed out, moving the material of his shirt dramatically off his chest and fanning himself. “Is—um, is it hot in here or is just you? Me! Is it just me?!”
You smile at him, adorably crinkle eyed and slightly pink cheeked, looking every bit the goddess and the angel James already knew with certainty that you were.
James Potter was, as it turns out, no longer miserable.
In fact, he can’t wait for his next appointment.
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sunnami · 2 months
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❝time will tell.❞
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[credits to the original artist of the photo!! can't seem to find their @ anywhere. title is taken from jane austen's persuasion, as was the first part.]
summary. ❝you are loved. and harry thinks there is no better description that that.❞
pairing/s. poly!mauraders x reader. (james potter x reader, sirius black x reader, lily evans x reader, and remus lupin x reader.)
word count. 9.5k.
tags. reader is referred to mum, with she/her pronouns[!], canon-typical violence [!], canon-typical deaths mentioned[!], very brief marauders as soldiers of the order[!], creepy old men being creepy[!], child abuse[!], pureblood arranged marriages, a minor character expresses wanting to die[!], Depressed and Traumatized Slytherins, the capital is important[!], themes of misogyny [!], teen boys fuck around and find out there are consequences to their actions, THERE IS ACTUALLY A LOT OF FLUFF, I PROMISE YOU, angst, children lose their baby teeth up until the age of twelve!! google said so!! not proofread we die like dobby the free elf
note. damn, i cried, you cried, we all crode. tbh, the first part was only intended as a oneshot, sdfkhdf, but when i re-read it, i thought that i could have expanded on more details,, so now here we are!! i love it more than the first part ueueue. thank you all so so so much for the kind comments :((( please please enjoy the second part to this installment!! part one
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HARRY JAMES POTTER was only a few months old when you died at the hands of Voldemort — or as strangers have told him every time they ravaged his personal space and ogled at his scar. They said it was a quick death, better than what had happened to Alice and Frank Longbottom. But that was all they’ve ever said about your death. Unfortunate; caught in the wrong place at the wrong time, entirely different from the pedestal James and Lily have been put on by the wizarding society. 
At first, Harry had wondered if it was due to your blood relations, being the daughter of a renowned Death-Eater, heiress to the fortune of a pureblood House. Harry can’t even count the amount of conspiracy theories he’s read or heard to his face that it must have been you who betrayed James and Lily, and not Sirius Black. 
Even Hermione’s shared to him a theory that your death was faked to surrender your loyalty completely to Voldemort — of course, Hermione was eleven at the time, head full of books and her favorite theories, and Harry’s already forgiven her. But there’s a part of him that despises the way he’s never known the full truth about his parents, just bits of information dangled in front of him like bait for people [read: the Dursleys] to get him to do what they want, to act like the way they want. Until Remus and Sirius, you were a stranger to him, really.
. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .
(1976; CURRENTLY, IN THE PAST.)
IT IS RATHER UNFORTUNATE that Madam Pince has already taken her position as the unbearable librarian at this point in time. The woman gives Harry and you a pointed look as you slam the large book onto one of the tables — to Harry’s surprise, you glare right back at her. You’re awfully flushed, however, blushing cheeks betraying the fire in your eyes; it must have been from when Remus escorted the two of you to the library; he had tried to brush your hand with his pinky, to which you had responded with a startled hiss — Remus only smiled and chuckled at you, and Harry swears he’d like to forget that entire interaction because he saw literal stars in Remus’s eyes.
Jumping back in time and potentially causing chaos? Fun. 
Meeting your parents? Definitely fun, in the strangest of ways. 
But watching them pine and fall for each other? Not so fun. 
Nonetheless, he hesitantly takes the seat across yours and watches you flip through the pages until you land on a chapter with the large, bold letters: THE CURIOUS CASE OF ELOISE MINTUMBLE — Time-Travel and Its Many Dangers. He meets your gaze with a sheepish grin, mustering a look of innocence; except the puppy dog eyes only worked when he was nine — you are not amused. 
You slide the book towards him, scarily resembling Molly Weasley when she’s miffed with the twins. “You are aware, right, that just by existing here you’ve changed the future? Your future? And, that’s not even the worst thing that could happen.” 
Harry sulks. “Yes, mum.” He prefers not to think about it, actually, it makes his head hurt. 
“Don’t call me that in public!” You whisper heatedly, looking over your shoulder to check if anyone had heard him — to your luck, the library was empty, save for a Hufflepuff that was passed out on top of his books. “The less people that know about this, the better. It’s bad enough we told Potter about you. Do you even know what you’re going to do?” 
“Considering I was thrown here against my will, no.” Harry shrugs. “And to be honest, I was just going to obliviate the people who asked too many questions.”
You reach over to smack his head, scowling.
“Ow! That hurt!” Harry rubs the sore spot as he grumbles petulantly. “This is technically child abuse, did you know that?” 
You roll your eyes. “Do you at least have a plan to get home?” 
“Of course I do,” Harry retorts with a scoff, “Her name is Hermione Granger.” 
“Hopeless.” You groan exasperatedly. “Absolutely hopeless.” 
Harry only grins in response. For a brief moment, he forgets about the present — his reality where the skies are bleak and home is where he knows the feeling of loss more than the warmth of his own parents’ embrace. He lets himself forget, and pretends he isn’t the Boy Who Lived. Just some random boy who’s pestering his mother — even if she likes to deny the inevitability of being romanced by the Marauders, (except for Wormtail because Harry would eat troll slime before he ever lets that happen.)
“Right then,” You say after your tangent — which Harry tuned out when he hears the words, be responsible. “If I’m going to help you get back home—” 
Harry’s heart drops to his stomach; as selfishly as it sounds, he didn’t want to go home just yet — not to where people just took and took from him. He’s exhausted. Still, he puts up a front of being excited to be returned to his timeline. It’s for the greater good, of course, because his existence — present or past — is always somehow a threat to the wizarding society. 
“—you need to answer this one question for me.” Your voice drops lower as you stare at him intently, lips pressed firmly. 
Harry nods slowly. “As long as it’s within reason, yeah.” 
You inhale sharply. “Do I outlive Dolores Umbridge?” 
The wince escapes Harry before he can even stop it. 
That’s all the answer you need, apparently. Your mouth hangs open in disbelief, eyes nearly bulging out of your head as you slam your hands down onto the table surface, shrieking.
“That slimy bitch!” 
Needless to say, the two of you are kicked out of the library.
. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .
(1970; ORIGINAL TIMELINE.)
YOU ARE ELEVEN when your father introduces you to Ferguson, commonly known as Fergus, Bulstrode. He smiles at you with a leer, eyes hungrily dipping to the neckline of your dress. You grit your teeth as you hold out your hand for him to take — you almost shudder at the feel of his lips on your cheek. You eagerly take a step back away from him, hoping your father won’t notice the way you shy from Ferguson’s touch. You’re not dull, you fully understand the implications of this introduction and the way Ferguson is complaining to you about his third wife’s passing — as if you were the solution to his loneliness. Bile rises to your throat, and you shove it down with a forced laugh at your father’s jokes about Mudbloods. From across the room, Allegra Greengrass stares at you in sympathy, and you send her a glare — you do not need anyone’s pity. 
The corset your mother laced on too tight is suffocating you; this whole Yule extravaganza made for elitist purebloods is suffocating you; and yet, you smile and greet every red-lipped witch your mother introduces you to. For hours, you pretend, and you pretend. By the time the guests have left, you wonder if you have any more of yourself to give. 
You manage to convince your mother to let you slip away for the night. Without missing a beat, you rush outside and into the garden labyrinth, lest old Ferguson snatches you up for a dance and let his gaze wander elsewhere. For the first time since the sun had set, your aching feet finally find some relief. You drop onto the edge of the stone fountain as you toss your heels to the side. You begin working your fingers through your hair, ripping the glittery ribbons from your head. It’s not until you’re unclasping your necklace that you realize you are crying. Tears fall from your eyes, and they sink deep into the fabric of your dress. 
You barely hold back your sobs. Your chest heaves as you hiccup; your vision goes blurry as your fingers grow numb. There’s nothing you can do but cry. 
You’ve used up all your smiles for tonight. 
But then, the sadness turns into resentment and then turns into indignation. Harshly, you wipe the tears from your eyes as you rip a violent scream from your throat. 
You sink to the ground, perfectly polished nails digging into the soil as you gather patches of grass and tear them from the roots. You throw a handful of mud at the marble statues. You grab another fistful of mud, scream, then bash your head against the garden floor. You let out another cry, whimpering as you curl into yourself; shivering as a gust of wind brushes against your skin. Surprisingly enough, this is the most human you’ve ever felt. This is the most you have ever felt — period. 
When hiccups regress into soft sniffles, you lay on your back, watching the stars float above. As the last of your tears slide down your cheek, you lift a shaky hand to trace the constellation in the sky. It’s not a familiar one to you, but then— 
“That’s Sirius.” 
You sit upright in a snap, wiping away the wetness from your eyes as you muster a mean glare at the newcomer.
Sirius Black.
“Oh, none of that,” He tells you when you move to stand. There’s barely any emotion on his face and it irks you that you can’t figure out what he’s planning. What you don’t expect is for him to sit beside you, thereby ruining his expensively tailored suit. 
“You’ll get creases,” You scold him instinctively, nose scrunched — but your voice is hoarse; too tired to put up any pretences. “Your mother will be cross with you.” 
Sirius scoffs, laying his head on the dirt, making sure to smear his sleeves with grass stains. “Walburga can go fall in a ditch and die for all I care.”
You gasp. “That’s horrible!” 
Sirius gives you a look. “You don’t believe that.” 
You really don’t, but you don’t have the courage to admit it either. 
After a few moments of silence, Sirius asks, raising a brow, “So who was that?”
“Who was who?” You stare at him with knitted brows, toying with your fingers. You still can’t wrap your head around how weird this is — sitting with Sirius Black in the middle of your mother’s hedge maze, your once bright blue dress now sullied at the ruffles, eyes bloodshot and your hair a frizzy mess. (Sirius thinks you look cute, though; especially with your missing front tooth that peeks out every time you talk to him.) 
“Bald guy, older than Merlin himself.” Sirius makes a face. “Looks like a troll. Smells like one, too.”
A giggle flutters past your lips, and your hands fly to your mouth. You really shouldn’t be bad-mouthing your guests, but Sirius was right — Ferguson really did act like an ugly troll. You sigh, letting your arms fall to your side. “My betrothed.” 
Sirius nods in understanding. “My mother tried to set me up with my own cousin once.” 
You grimace. “Which cousin?” 
He sits on his knees to face you, and with a very solemn face, he says, “Bellatrix.”
This time, you laugh freely, throwing your head back as Sirius pouts at your amusement. “O-Oh, that’s golden.” 
“No, it’s not,” says Sirius, lips twitching as he watches you snort like a pig through your giggles. “It’s horrible. A literal nightmare. You should feel awful for me.” He pokes your stomach, and it just makes you laugh harder, eyes disappearing into your smile. “Oi. I said feel awful, not take the piss out of me.” 
“S-Sorry.” You wheeze, batting away his hand pulling at your cheek. “I just can’t imagine Bellatrix in a white wedding dress and saying her vows to you.”
“That’s disgusting.” Sirius gags. “You’re horrible, I hope you know that.” 
When you finally calm down and Sirius tickles your bare feet until you cry in surrender, the two of you lay on the grass as he points out each constellation to you. Later, he fishes a small box of sugar mice from his pocket and offers it to you, opening one for himself. “Here’s to shitty parents and the one day we get to decide our own future.” 
You bump your squeaky candy mice against his. “Cheers, Black.” 
“Will you go to Hogwarts next year?” He asks you once he’s bitten off the tail of his mice. 
You nod. 
Sirius shifts on his side, holding his pinky out to you. “We’ll be friends when school starts?”
Again, you nod, wrapping your pinky around his. “Friends.” 
The next September comes, Sirius finds a compartment and one James Potter in it. You sit with Allegra Greengrass and Endora Lestrange on the way to Hogwarts. You are sorted into Slytherin, and Sirius finds freedom and a home in Gryffindor. You play the role created just for you; you lift your nose at those beneath you, adorn yourself in custom-made silk clothing, and carry yourself with the etiquette of a pure-blooded lady. Perfect grades, perfect hair, perfect clothes, always picture perfect.
You pretend that Allegra doesn’t throw up in the evenings from the fear of getting married to a man twice her age. You pretend that you don’t notice Endora sleep-walking and begging for her mother to save her from her father. You pretend that under your blankets, in the Slytherin dungeon, you are safe. 
You pretend that it doesn’t hurt when Sirius looks at you in disappointment when you shove a Hufflepuff student to the ground for getting a higher score than you in Charms.
They call you an ice-princess behind your back, and you overhear some of the fifth-years calling you foul words as well, and no one steps in to stop them; there’s no defending a Slytherin, after all. But you are keeping your head above treacherous waters, and you suppose that is all that matters.) 
. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .
(1976; CURRENTLY, IN THE PAST.)
“SO ACCORDING TO THIS, Eloise was stuck in 1402 for five days until she was retrieved to the present, which means we only have four days left to figure out a way for you to get back home.” 
Harry sinks into his chair, arms crossed over his chest. The two of you had found an empty classroom to discuss your plans away from inquisitive ears. “What’s the rush?” It’s unfair, he’d only just met you, and now he’s losing time with you. 
You sigh. “Harry, Eloise Mintumble spent five days in the past and when she came back, her body aged five centuries, and she died in St. Mungos. It’s not just about altering the whole timeline, you could actually die.” 
When you are met only with silence, you close the book, frowning. “Harry? What’s wrong?” 
Harry swallows the lump in his throat, looking out the window to avoid your gaze. “What do you know about the Mirror of Erised?” 
Your head tilts in confusion. “That it shows our heart’s deepest desire.” 
“Yeah,” says Harry, nodding. “I was eleven when I found it.” 
“Oh, Harry. . .” 
It’s almost pathetic how quickly his eyes water. “Did you know, before today, I hadn’t known at all what your voice sounded like?” 
You stay quiet, and Harry sucks in a shaky breath. 
“When I looked into the mirror, I saw my parents—all of you. There I was, in the middle. You were behind me—happy.” Harry swipes a tear from his eye. “I wanted to stay in that room, stare at that mirror forever.”
“It’s—”
“Dangerous, I know.” He laughs bitterly. “Just like finally being able to meet you all here.”
“Harry, you aren’t supposed to be here in the first place,” You say quietly, eyes drooping sadly. 
“I know that!” He exclaims desperately. “But is it so selfish to just want some time? I don’t want an illusion, I want the real thing. A real family. Why can’t I have that? Bloody Malfoy gets everything he wants, and what do I have?” 
“Your friends,” You tell him firmly. “Your friends who must be worried sick that you’re gone and must be going great lengths to bring you back.” 
“I know.” Harry wilts. He’s got Remus at home, too, who probably needs him more than ever after Sirius’s death. “I know. But can’t I just have this one thing?” 
You purse your lips for a moment, brows furrowed in thought. Then, you break the silence with: “Do you want to hear a story?”
“What?” Harry croaks, peering at you through wet lashes. 
Shrugging, you say, “Stories to remember us by. I’ve got six years worth of stories and then some. I know it’s not much, and you’ve probably heard some of these already from the others in the future, but it’s better than nothing, right?” You lean against the back of your chair, glancing at the wall clock before grinning at Harry. “We’ve got time to spare, anyway.” 
Harry manages a smile, setting down his glasses before rubbing his stinging eyes with the handkerchief you offer him. He figures this is what Remus means when you’re the gentlest creature he’s ever known — just not gentle in what the world expects you to be. 
“What do you say, Harry? I give you tidbits of the past, and you tell me if you know anything about the next Triwizard champion, so I can place my bets in advance.”  
Harry snickers. “Not a chance, mum.” 
“Worth a try.” And the smile you give him is nearly blinding. 
. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .
(1977; ORIGINAL TIMELINE.)
YOU DON’T UNDERSTAND what it is about Gryffindors and their hobby of invading others’ personal space. 
A year into dating and James likes to shove his head under your shirt, claiming he loves the sound of your heartbeat — but you know really what he wants to nestle his head in between. The amount of cashmere blouses he’s ruined is absurd! Sirius has a hobby of tracing runes on the plane of your stomach. Lily prefers it when you sit in front of her, just within reach where she can wrap her arms around you and rest her head on your shoulder. Remus tends to lag behind the group when he notices you walking slower due to your leg flaring up. He kisses the side of your head and promises to chase the pain away — sappy poetic that he is. And in the moments where all five of you are together, tucked under a wide alcove, you can best believe there is no escaping what they like to call, a cuddle pile. Limbs are tangled, kisses are shared, and confessions of love are whispered. 
Before them, you hadn’t really known the different ways to love and be loved. 
Onto the pressing matters at hand, you discover that the brazen show of affection extends to their parents as well. Particularly, the Potters. After a year, you finally caved into James’s requests for you to spend the holidays at their manor, since the others have already made a space for themselves there, and James had said it would be an honor for you to feel at home with his parents, too. Honestly, you spoil them too much — one look into his bright, wide eyes and you gave in. James didn’t even care that you brought two luggages for clothes alone; he lifted each bag with delight and with ease. 
(Remus had the audacity to laugh when he caught you and Sirius staring at James’s flexed muscles, mouth wide open. 
“As I have said, Remus Lupin, I do not drool!”
“Sure, dove, whatever you say.”)
But now, you really aren’t so sure of your decision. 
“Oh, she’s beautiful, Jamie!” Euphemia encases you in a bear hug the moment you step inside the manor. You’re engulfed in the scent of cinnamon and burnt sugar. You stiffen as she cradles your face in between her palms, smiling ever so fondly at you, cooing about how precious you look, much like a mother would — and how your mother never did. You wonder if this is what you’ve been missing all along — the thought stabs you right in the heart. “Please excuse the mess, dear, we haven’t had the chance to clean up yet, Monty and I are excited to try the recipe Lily owled to us the other day, you see.” 
“I-It’s okay,” You rasp, struggling to hold back the tears. 
“Oh, what a darling you are!” Euphemia smiles and ushers you further inside. “Come, come. The others are right upstairs. You must be tired from the train ride. It is so lovely to finally meet you. Make yourself at home, dear heart — James Fleamont Potter! Give your mama a kiss this instant! Don’t think introducing your girlfriend will distract me from the fact you didn’t owl me letters for two months straight!” 
James whines as he hides behind you. “Mum, I’m seventeen, stop embarrassing me.” 
Euphemia scoffs, hands snapping to her hips. “You’re going to be my baby boy forever, now come here.” 
With a shy smile, you step away to surrender James to his mother — you don’t understand which part of this is embarrassing; you wish for a mum who’d welcome you home like that, with unconditional love and kind eyes. James squawks and calls you a traitor, just before his mum attacks him with loud, exaggerated kisses to his cheek, leaving lipstick stains all over his face. You hide a laugh behind your palm, ignoring the way your heart pangs at the sight of their unrestrained smiles. Euphemia lets her son go after a few more seconds, cackling at the masterpiece she’s created on a grumbling James, who’s rubbing his skin to erase his mother’s affections. She hugs you once more before setting you off, telling you to meet Fleamont after you’ve unpacked. 
Just as you reach the foot of the stairs, you hear a girlish squeal, then the sound of rapid footfall against each wooden step. Lily greets the two of you by jumping off the last step and wrapping each arm around yours and James’s neck. “Welcome home, Jamie!” She captures his lips with her own before doing the same to you, cupping your cheek lovingly, “So happy you made it, princess! How was the ride here?” 
You were never a fan of traveling by Floo; it made you nauseous after, and left you with a pounding headache for hours. Without hesitation, the others offered to accompany you on the train, but you insisted they Floo ahead to Godric’s Hollow — it took a lot of convincing, but they finally agreed, (they’re not the only ones spoiled; they couldn’t refuse you, too.) With the exception of James, who wanted to be there when you saw his home for the first time. You nearly cried when you saw how well-loved their manor was; rose shrubs dipped in snow, Sirius’s motorcycle parked outside, a mailbox with poorly painted shapes, the fences covered in Christmas lights, and the amount of shoes by the door. From outside, you could hear the laughter and warm conversations. 
“It was fine,” You say in a daze.
Lily sees right through you — and frowns sadly. “You alright?” 
Were you? 
You catch sight of the moving photographs of James and you finally reach your breaking point. There’s a swell in your throat that you can’t seem to push down. There’s a photo of James, Lily, Remus and Sirius; James is in his Quidditch jersey, raising the Golden Snitch high up in the air, Remus is twirling Lily, his arms around her waist, and Sirius is holding up a charmed banner that says: Gryffindor Rules! Slytherin Sucks! Except For My Darling Angel Love Of My Life Most Beautiful And Gorgeous Perfect Brilliant Girlfriend! 
There are hints of life all around the manor. Remus’s textbooks and scarf are laid by the coffee table. Lily’s O.W.L. marks are framed on the wall, along with Dumbledore’s letters to James and Lily awarding them the position of Head Girl and Head Boy, as well as McGonagall’s previous letter to Remus that came with his Prefect badge years ago. There’s a spot dedicated to Peter, filled with a photograph of him awkwardly holding his Herbology test, one that he scored a hundred and twelve percent on. It’s a wall dedicated to them, you realize. 
Then, you find it. 
Right there, up above James’s spot, and beside Sirius’s display of beyond perfect Transfiguration exam marks, and a picture of him and Remus kissing each side of your face. 
It’s a space on that wall just for you. 
James follows your gaze and rubs the back of his head, ears tinged with a shade of deep pink. “Mum left a space when I first told her about you. I-It’s yours, you can put anything you want there.” 
“I can’t,” You whisper, lips quivering as your heart cracks into a million pieces. It’s too much. 
James blinks. “Can’t? It’s yours, I promise. Mum won’t mind. You can even hang your dumb Montrose Magpies poster and I won’t tear it down — Marauders’ honor. I can help you if you want. I-I’m not good as decorating as Lily, but I paid attention to your boring explanation of color theory and I know that you hate this shade of—”
“James, I can’t do this.” 
That’s all you say before you run out of the door. 
(And you’re absolutely delusional if you think James won’t follow you out that door and into the brewing snowstorm.) 
You hear James call out to you, but you opt to ignore him and clutch your winter coat tighter around your body, shivering in the blowing wind, trudging through the deep snow through your heeled boots — designer couldn’t help you now even if you tried. You sniff, the salty taste of your tears dripping to your lips, chest tightening with a foreign kind of pain, and the frost nipping at your fingers. You give up after a few minutes, falling to the ground with an anguished cry, hand clutching the front of your chest as you struggle to breathe. 
James reaches you in a matter of minutes, draping his jacket over you, barely flinching as the cold welts his bare skin. Frantically, he wipes the tears from your eyes, a pained expression on his face as he sees you cry helplessly. “Come on, dove, it’s not safe out here. Let’s go back home, yeah? I’m sorry for upsetting you. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry — I’m so sorry, dove, please don’t cry, it’s killing me to s–see you like this.” Tears fall from his eyes, and he begins stuttering from the cold, but you can’t go back to the manor. “What did I do? Please tell me so I can fix it. I love you—I’m sorry.”
You bat his chest. “G–Go home, Jamie. I’ll just take the train back to the castle.” 
“What?” He shakes his head, grabbing onto your hands. “Y–You can’t. Not in this weather. You’ll get sick if you try to walk back to the station.” 
You withdraw from his hold as you back away from James, slipping into the ice-cold mask you know so well. 
James rises in an instant, reaching for you. “No, no, no, no, no. You don’t get to do that. Not now. Not with me. Please, just come home and I-I’ll fix it.” 
“Goodbye, James,” You tell him firmly, clenching your jaw as you look him straight in the eyes. 
He grimaces. “That won’t work on me, princess, and you know it. Don’t push me away—please.” 
“Go home, James!” You yell bitterly, pivoting on your heel as you march through the thick inches of snow, hearing Remus and Lily’s voice grow louder in the distance. “Just go!”
He grits his teeth, nails digging deep into the palms of his hand. “You’re a coward if you walk away from here—from us—right now!” James shouts through chattering teeth and stray tears. “And I hate cowards more than anything!” 
You don’t look back. 
(Later that night, James stares blankly at the fireplace, tossing twigs now and then. He’s all out of tears. Remus crosses his legs as he sits beside James and offers him a steaming mug of hot chocolate. 
“Don’t want one,” He mutters, words coarse from earlier, head turning away from Remus’s gift. “Just want her.” 
Remus sets the beverage on the ground before pulling James’s head down to his chest, gently wiping the tears from his eyes as he wraps the blanket around both of them. He presses a soft kiss to James’s hair. 
“I said I hated her,” James says weakly. “I don’t—I never will. I just hate that she’s out there spending Christmas all alone. She could be here—with us. I hate not knowing that she’s safe, or that she thinks I don’t love her anymore—that’s a bloody lie, Moony. I adore her. If anything, I don’t deserve her.” 
James finds out that he does have more tears left in him. “I miss her. Bring her back, Rem, please.”
“You’ll cry yourself sick, love.” Remus wipes each tear away. “Let’s go to bed, yeah? Mornings do have a way of bringing miracles to us.” Because after a night of excruciating pain under the moon’s command, he wakes up to sunlight, and there you all are — smiling down at him like he is deserving of love; and maybe Remus can’t fault you for running away.
You’d kiss him gently and tell him how proud you are of him for coming back to you. 
Remus only hopes you come back to them, too.)
. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .
(1976; CURRENTLY, IN THE PAST.)
“AND THAT, dear Harry, is how I humiliated Lucius Malfoy in fifth-year.” Your eyes gleam wickedly as you rest your arms on the school desk. “If he ever bothers you in your time, just mention my name—oh, I wish I could see the look on his face when he realizes I’m haunting him from my grave. Tell him, okay?” 
Harry nods excitedly. “Definitely.”
“Got anymore stories?” He asks. 
You cackle menacingly. “Boy, do I ever. Let me tell you about the one time Beckett McLaggen took me out on a date to Madam Puddifoot’s!” 
Harry grimaces. “Do I even want to hear about this?” 
“Oh, pish-posh.” You dismiss him with a wave. “You do, this story is hilarious. Now that I look back on it, Sirius was quite cross with him for the rest of the day—how strange. I wonder why.” 
Harry stares at you in disbelief. “You’re joking.” 
“I most certainly am not, Harry Potter.” 
. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .
(1974; ORIGINAL TIMELINE.)
AN EAR-PIERCING scream wakes you up in the middle of the night. You snatch your wand from under your pillow, heart thudding against your chest in fear — last year, the Prewett twins decided it was funny to break into the girls’ quarters at midnight; you get a month worth of detention for hitting Gideon with the Expulso curse and suspension from class for two weeks, while the twins get away with a slap on the wrist and have the time of their lives spreading rumors of you being a Death-Eater. 
Endora shoots up to her feet as well, staring at you in panic — then the girl screams again, and you realize it’s Allegra. 
You sigh in relief, lowering your wand before saying to Endora, “I-It’s alright. I’ll handle it.” 
“Are you sure?” Endora asks timidly, gnawing at her lip and wincing when Allegra wails once more. 
“Certain,” You respond, yawning. 
As Endora climbs back into her bed, you slip into Allegra’s side, holding her head to your chest, brushing your fingers through her hair and untangling the knots. Like most of the Greengrass women, she was of ethereal beauty — silky blonde hair, smooth and fair skin, deep blue eyes that enchant wizards and witches alike. But her cheeks have gone sallow from exhaustion, eyes devoid of any emotion, and her skin now sunken into her bones. 
“I don’t want to marry him—I can’t! He’s old enough to be my father!” Allegra sobs violently, desperate for anyone to hear her, but no one really ever hears their cries from the dungeon. “They said they’d wait until I graduated—they promised! I’m supposed to marry him this summer!” 
Your heart breaks for your friend — there’s nothing you can do but hold her until she’s cried every bit of her soul out. 
“I hate them,” Allegra whispers to you; she had been shedding tears for hours, trembling in your arms until morning finally came. 
“I know,” You say defeatedly. 
“I wish I was dead,” She replies lifelessly. “He can’t marry a dead bride.” 
“Don’t say that,” You beg as you hug her tight; afraid to lose her to the world that has worn her down. “Please.” 
Allegra sinks into her pillows, and you follow in suit, hesitantly laying your head beside hers. She stares at the ceiling dully. “The world is so, so cruel to us daughters sometimes. And it’ll be cruel to our daughters, and their daughters. When will it end?” 
“I don’t know,” You say honestly. 
Allegra hums, neither disappointed nor surprised, and turns away to lay on her side. “Pansy,” She mumbles.
“What?”
“If we lived in a better world and I married for love, I’d want to name my daughter Pansy — like the flower.”
(Later that day, you are given detention for beating Evan Rosier to a pulp. He makes a joke about dirty blood, and you snap — you are tired of laughing and pandering to the arrogant men in your life. This is the first time you publicly defy your parents, and it felt good — more than good, it was liberating. It’s like breathing fresh air for the first time. Then, you earn a second detention for storming up to the Gryffindor common room and punching Fabian Prewett in the face — because fourth-year boys had no business sneaking into the girls’ dorm in the middle of the night for some stupid prank — and you threaten him by pointing the tip of your wand deep into his neck, demanding they apologize to you, Allegra, and Endora. 
You get what you want, naturally — as princesses do. You decide then that you’re going to create a world where girls like Allegra don’t cry anymore.)
. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .
(1976; CURRENTLY, IN THE PAST.) 
HARRY TWINGES WHEN he hears the end of your fourth or fifth story of the afternoon — no wonder you had been so angered by his being in your room. “I-I’m sorry—” 
“Yesterday was hardly your fault,” You interrupt him. “There’s no controlling where magic brings you, not in your case. You didn’t know, but now you know. I don’t hold it against them — anymore. Fifteen-year-old boys can be stupid, and at least they’ve learned from their mistakes. You should have seen your mother — erm, Lily — she looked like she was ready to kill them after finding out what they had done. Even Molly was cross with the twins, and you know how loyal Molly is to her family.”
Oh, Harry knows.
And Hermione knows it all too well. 
“Others call us evil, conniving and cruel, Harry,” You tell him grimly, “But I will protect my own, no matter what I have to do.”
At that moment, Harry thinks he understands why some people come to fear Slytherin. 
. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .
(1978; ORIGINAL TIMELINE.) 
“LOOK, LILY-PAD, the princess is drooling again.” 
You open your eyes to glare at Sirius. “I don’t drool, idiot.” 
Lily chortles as she presses a kiss to your shoulder. “Of course you don’t, princess.”
Currently, you’re lying on a shabby loveseat that is too small to hold the three of you; it’s the only furniture in the new cottage you call home, where Potter Manor was right across the street. (Euphemia was ecstatic to have you all nearby — the lovely woman was sprite for her age, but you notice the way she stops to sit and catch her breath, Sirius and James hovering over her attentively; you’re good at pretending, so you pretend that the Potters will be around forever.) Some rooms are dusty with cobwebs, walls unfinished, with the floors creak under your feet, and there’s no other place you’d rather call home. 
You’re in between Sirius and Lily; your lips swollen from their kisses, cheeks flushed and the column of your throat graced with love marks. It’s the most beautiful set of jewelry you’ve ever worn, not even burmese rubies could compare. Lily’s hand rests under your jumper, Sirius’s thigh wedged between your own. While peace blankets the three of you, James and Remus have yet to come home from their task given by the Order. 
“You need a haircut, my love,” You mumble drowsily, pulling at one of the dark ringlets — it’s gone past his shoulders now. He captures your hand and leaves a delicate kiss on your fingertips. 
Lily buries her nose in your hair. “She’s right, Siri.” 
“I’m always right.” You pout. 
Sirius, love-sick fool that he is, smiles as he tilts your chin with his finger and ensnares you in a kiss that leaves you breathless. “Course you are — our girl’s bloody brilliant, isn’t she, Lily-pad?”
“Without a doubt.”
You roll your eyes at their antics, rolling around so that your back is pressed to Sirius’s chest — they’re not fooled, however; Lily sees the way your eyes flicker in amusement and the way your lips threaten to curve up into a smile. She traces the swell of your lips with her thumb, to the dip of your nose, and to the apples of your cheek. Sea-green eyes beam at you.
“I love you,” says Lily, committing every inch of you to her memory as she wears a melancholic smile. “I don’t know who told you that you don’t deserve to be loved, but they were wrong. You are so precious to us, dove, you don’t even know how much. This right here is real — and nothing could ever change that.” 
As it turns out, you did have more smiles to give — only the happy ones; not the fake, courteous smiles that you had given to your mother’s friends in the past. You come to intertwine your hand with Lily’s, the one that had been resting on your cheek, tenderly wiping the tears that pooled within your eyes. Your heart could burst from your chest. They had a habit of wringing every emotion out of you; of making love feel real, not just a myth from a Muggle storybook. And you find, that you didn’t mind this particular habit of theirs. In the comforts of the place you call home, where you irrefutably belong, you are free to seek their arms and fall into their love, and the best part is where you get to love them right back. 
How lucky you are. 
“Let’s get married,” You blurt out, holding your breath, feeling Sirius’s hand on your waist stiffen. 
“What?” Lily gasps breathlessly. 
You smile up at Lily. “Let’s get married. All of us. I don’t care where, o–or about the rings, let’s just get married. With the war going on, we deserve s–something good.” 
Lily sobs as she nods excitedly. “Yes. Oh my Gods—we’re getting married!” 
Sirius stares at you in wonder. “Bloody hell, dove, give a guy some warning, would you?”
You grin. “Is that a yes?” 
“It’s a yes — forever.” Sirius dives in to kiss you senseless. “Couldn’t get rid of us now even if you tried.” 
“I don’t think I’d want to, anyway.” 
Right then, the rickety door slams open, and you hear the loves of your life calling out for the three of you. Followed by the heavy thud of Dragonhide boots plunking down onto the floor
“We’re home!” James announces in the entryway. 
Lily wastes no time in shooting up from the sofa and welcoming them home with quite a unique greeting:
“We’re all getting married!” 
. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .
(1976; CURRENTLY, IN THE PAST.) 
“That ring is an heirloom passed down to the children in our family,” You tell Harry, pointing to the band around his finger. “It’s meant to symbolize our loyalty and duty to our House. My mother said I would have earned it only when I became a wife to Ferguson Bulstrode.” You chuckle at Harry’s perturbed grimace. “No, I didn’t marry him — thankfully. After Allegra. . . I—I. . . I couldn’t bear it. If I was going to marry, it would be on my own terms, and it would be for love, nothing less. Then, if my child wanted it, I’d give them this ring. I want to leave behind a legacy that I created. When I was younger, I’d resigned to a fate that was forcefully carved by someone else’s hand.” 
You shake your head. “I want to die being remembered by those who loved me. Otherwise, I was never truly alive.” 
Harry won’t let that happen, he won’t ever let your name be forgotten. He’ll share of your kindness to his friends, of your bravery and loyalty. Hermione will love your fondness of Muggle musicals and how you stood up to Lily’s defense in a world that ostracized her for being different. He’ll remind Remus of your love for him, that he had brought you hope in times of despair. Harry is going to make sure the world knows you had been so full of life with endless love to give. You are going to be remembered in the way Voldemort never will. 
“What do the words mean?” He stares at the writing: Tempus Edax Rerum.
You smile. “Time, devourer of all things.”
. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .
(1978; ORIGINAL TIMELINE.)
“REMUS—THE MUGGLES ARE stuck in the telly again!” 
Remus snickers as he takes the vacant space beside you on the loveseat, now sewn up with care and spattered with knitted quilts and throw pillows — still too small to carry three people but hasn’t given out yet, anyway. He takes Lily’s legs over his lap, swiftly stealing a kiss from your lips. “It’s a film, dove, they’re acting.” 
You purse your lips. “They’re trapped inside, then?” 
Lily snorts into her tub of chocolate fudge ice cream. “Not quite, princess, it’s recorded. Movies are like moving photographs — but they’re an hour long with sounds.” 
“Oh.” You turn your attention back to the screen, back to the film Lily had been watching. You had to admit — the story of Sandy and Danny was an interesting one. “Lily-pad, she’s singing — again.” 
Sirius hushes you from where he was cuddling James on the other couch. “She’s supposed to sing, dove, it’s a musical.” 
“Well, yes,” You begin, and James groans into Sirius’s chest, “But they should just talk instead of singing all the time — Sandy’s got a lovely voice, though. I just don’t understand why Danny’s treating her like that! Truthfully, I don’t like any of Sandy’s new friends, other than Frenchy — she’s harmless. If I was Sandy I’d move on from Danny — but then again, that hair and those muscles, and his leather jacket! I can’t blame her.” 
Sirius glowers at you. “You like his leather jacket?” 
“His hair?” James exclaims in horror. 
Remus chuckles as he tucks you in his side, kissing your temple. “If I were you, dove, I’d be quiet and just watch the film.”
“Oh, no, no.” Sirius barely glances at the television as he pauses the film and stands up to point an accusatory finger at you. “Since when were you into leather jackets? Do you think those are cool? Since when? Jamie, should I get one? Let’s unpack this, right now. And his muscles, really?” 
Your eyes roll to the back of your head. “Play the film, Black, I want to see the end of their love story.” 
“I’m telling Euphemia on you!” 
. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .
(1976; CURRENTLY, IN THE PAST.) 
“—and then we realized that we accidentally locked Hermione in with the troll.” Harry’s arms flail about as he shares some of his adventures with you — it had only been fair. He felt like a young boy again, entering Hogwarts for the first time as he watched you listen to him intently, gasping at tale of the vanishing glass and scolding him when he says he and Ron had decided to go searching for Hermione, and by extension, the troll. 
Your eyes grow wide. “A troll? In Hogwarts? They can’t have, not unless—”
“Someone let it in—I know!” Harry grins. “You’re not going to believe who let the troll in the castle.” 
You snap your fingers, “Malfoy, the older one. I know that lump’s got something to do with this. Can’t have been Snape or Quirrell.”
“Just you wait.” Harry’s eyes twinkle with mischief. “—and so, Professor McGonagall finds us, and can you believe it? She awards us for dumb luck! Then. . .” 
. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .
(1979; ORIGINAL TIMELINE.)
IT HAD COME AS A surprise when you volunteered to join the Order of the Phoenix. You wanted to scoff at their shocked faces — was it so surprising that you wanted to protect your family? They let Severus Snape join their ranks, and you’re fairly certain that you’re a better fighter and survivalist than him — not the better liar, however, he can have that one. The week before, you and the others had an argument that lasted for the whole day. They did not want you in harm’s way, and you would rather die than stay at home, waiting idly for them to return, when you could be out there alongside them. 
(“It’s not some game out there!” Remus runs through his hair in frustration — he had always been so careful to never raise his voice at you, but this one time, he needed you to back down. “Every time you step into a raid, there’s a possibility of you dying, don’t you understand that? And even if you survive — you’ll have blood on your hands, and it does not wash away no matter how many times you try, trust me, we know.” 
“So what?” You throw your hands up in the air, equally aggravated. “I just stay here like some. . . some pet waiting for their owners to come home?” 
“Yes!” Lily angrily replies. “That is the whole point of us joining the Order — so you get to live another day. So we all have a chance at this new world without a war. Let us protect you!”
You grind down on your jaw. “You have got another thing coming, if you think I’m not going to fight tooth and nail for my future.” 
James slams a fist onto the kitchen counter. “There are horrors out there you can’t even imagine. I-It’s worse than we thought. It’s our every nightmare come to life.” 
You raise your chin defiantly. “Then we face it together.”)
Each day, you survive, and each day the five of you return home — scarred and bruised, but safe within the arms of one another. When you collapse and crumble, it is only for the walls of your home to witness. 
Now a month into autumn, you are on your first task without Sirius, James, Lily or even Remus. Instead, you are assigned by Dumbledore to Knockturn Alley along with Peter Pettigrew and Gideon Prewett. How strange time was, years ago you’d never associate with the proud Gryffindors, and now you had to trust them to guard your back. Everyone had to grow up quickly during war, even pranksters. 
The alley was quiet — too quiet for your liking. You had been on alert since the moment you apparated into the area, wand at your ready. The back of your neck prickled with goosebumps as you kept an ear out for any sign of movement. 
Peter shivers and you glance at him — he’s become far too skinny, constantly shrinking into himself out of fear. And while you want to comfort him, you keep your eyes up ahead. Still, there's a nagging feeling that you can’t quite make out. It’s different from all the other times you’ve been asked to search and rescue. 
“Don’t you feel like there’s something wrong?” You ask Gideon, eyes snapping to the flock of crows flying overhead. 
“Dunno, kid,” Gideon says, nudging your shoulder with pressed lips. “Everything about this is freaking me out. The place is too empty.” 
“I get what you mean,” You reply, swallowing your own nervousness. Without waiting for the rest, you speed up your pace. “I’ll scout ahead, who knows what’s been here before us. I don’t want to risk any of our lives, so let’s be careful. Gideon, ward the area while I check for any cursed objects, last time you almost got your arm cut off by a newspaper of all things. And Peter, could you. . . Peter?” 
When you turn to check behind you, it all happens so fast. 
“Avada Kedavra!” 
You scream as Gideon’s deathly pale body falls to the floor. 
“No!” 
You aren’t given a moment to rush to his side — someone digs their wand in the side of your neck, and you stiffen in their hold. It’s not until they hiss in your ear that you recognize the voice. 
“Rosier.” You spit, biting down on your lip when he presses the tip of his wand further into your flesh. 
“Stupid witch,” He taunts, eyes dilating with vengeance. “Where are your lovers now?” 
“Jealous?” You claw at his arms, chest heaving up and down. “We don’t have room for one more, sorry.”
“Shut up!” He pushes you to the ground in blind rage, and that’s all the opening you need. 
“Expulso!” 
Each curse you send his way lands on his cloaked body, sending him staggering backwards. With ease, you deflect each spell he counters with. You’re winning, he is growing tired, and perhaps that is why you let your guard down. 
“Accio wand!” 
The magic fizzles out, and the spell dies on your lips. As you swivel your head to find out who’s stolen your wand, you expect to find another Death Eater — except it’s Peter. Just Peter Pettigrew, quivering in his boots with tears and snot dripping down his face, your wand in his free hand. You furrow your brows — it doesn’t make sense. 
“Peter?” You call out. 
“Crucio!” 
The curse finds its home in your body — and it sinks deep into your flesh, grinding your bones until you slump to the ground, wriggling as you draw blood from your lips, refusing to let them hear an ounce of your pain. Blood trickles down your nose as you hear Evan Rosier dancing around you in glee. You know this curse well; the sound of your father condemning you gleefully echo in your head. You crawl over to Gideon — hand desperately reaching for his shirt. 
“Crucio!” Rosier grabs you by the hair and howls with laughter. “Scream for me again—Crucio!” 
It’s as though someone had begun to rip you in half. Your bones shift and crack with every uttered curse. The veins in your eyes have popped and through bloody vision, you see Peter cowering away from you.
“You—fucking—traitor,” You gurgle, throat welling up with blood that’s risen from your stomach. “They’ll—never—forgive you—never.” 
“Crucio! Crucio! Crucio! Come on, witch — SCREAM! Look at her go, Pettigrew, crawling like some pathetic worm.” 
You lay in your owl pool of blood, wearing a body that is marred and lacerated. But you see something in Gideon’s hand. I’m sorry, you want to tell him. I’ll get you home to Molly, you promise, please lend me your magic this once. With every last bit of your strength, just as Rosier directs another curse at you — one you know you won’t survive — you snatch the wand from Gideon’s hand and tear the last of your magic from your throat. 
“Defodio!” 
You wait with a bated breath as silence fills the alley; lucky to have remembered Professor Flitwick’s quick remark as to how the slight difference in pronouncing a charm could alter its effect. Rosier stands on shaky legs, a stream of blood leaking from the corner of his mouth. You watch as he looks down to his chest, where a gaping hole now lies instead of where his ribcage and heart should be. As Gideon had done before him, Evan Rosier crashes to the ground. 
That just leaves one more problem. 
Peter scurries to your side the moment Rosier can hurt him no longer. “I-I’m sorry—I’m sorry. I had to. . . T–They killed my mum, they killed M–Mary, and t–they said I would die too if I d–didn’t do this. I’m sorry. Y–Your father was there, too. He said he would take you in, let you l–live if you joined us. W–We can live, t–there’s still a chance for us to survive.” 
Your fingers are bent at unsightly angles, the remnants of the Torture Curse still flowing through your veins, but your face contorts in anger as you let your hand curl around his neck. He sobs louder, and though your grip is weakening — you make sure he looks into your eyes, that he feels your touch.
“I’d rather—die.” You say through gritted teeth, nails drawing blood from his grimy skin. “You’ll die too—you’ll feel my blood on your skin—everywhere you go, Peter.” 
Peter shakes his head, now clumsily pushing his wand down to the center of your chest. “Y–You were the only o–one who d–didn’t laugh at me. N–Not like the others.” 
“When they find out—you’re dead, Pettigrew.” You laugh darkly as more blood exits your body through your lips. “There’s nowhere you can hide—you’re a dead man.” 
“P-Please die,” Peter cries out, each killing spell coming out as a garbled whisper. “Please die,  s–so I can live. I c–can’t fight anymore, I’m tired.” 
Your vision goes a hazy shade of white, Peter’s silhouette fading away to the familiar scenery of your cottage in Godric’s Hollow. 
Oh.
Dying is less painful than you had expected it to be. It’s like coming home after a day’s work. 
You just wanted to rest now. 
The world caves in on you, and you barely hear Peter’s next words. 
“Avada Kedavra.” 
(It’s past midnight when Peter Pettigrew arrives at Grimmauld Place, where it’s been altered to host the members of the Order, Lily sobs in relief and gathers him in her arms. 
You’ll feel my blood on your skin.
You’re a dead man. 
Dead, dead, dead, dead, dead, dead. 
“Oh, I’m so glad you’re home safe — welcome home — thank the Gods you’re alive,” Lily blabbers through her tears, checking his face for any major injuries. “Merlin, what happened? There’s too much blood on you. It’s on your shirt and your face.” 
“It’s not mine,” says Peter hoarsely. 
Sirius’s gaze darkens, arms crossed over his jacket as he leaned against the wall. “Where is she?” 
Lily nods, standing on her tiptoes to search for any sign of you. “Peter? I–Is she alright? Has something happened to her?” 
Peter stays silent for a moment too long, and he finds himself slammed against the wall behind him, Sirius snarling in his face as he seizes the front of Peter’s soiled shirt. “Where the fuck is she, Pettigrew?” 
Peter begins to weep. “I–It was an ambush. None of us saw it coming. Gideon r–ran. She was taking on two Death-Eaters at once and I–I was too far away.” 
Lily collapses to the ground with a heart-wrenching scream.
Sirius growls as he drives his fist to the wall, inches away from Peter’s face. “Where is her body?” 
“It was a disintegration spell.” With Severus Snape — brought to the Malfoy Manor to be made as an example of what happens to blood-traitors. 
James pushes Sirius out of the way and grabs a hold of Peter, knocking his head against the concrete. “It should have been you—” James snaps at Peter. “If it came down to you or her—you should have saved her!” 
“W-What?” Peter stammers, eyes wide. “She chose to save m–me.” 
James sneers at him. “You should have just died.”)
. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .
(1996; CURRENTLY, IN THE PRESENT.) 
ST. JEROME’S GRAVEYARD had exactly one visitor. Remus Lupin sits in between James and Lily’s graves, a bottle of firewhiskey in his hand — four empty at his side. He must be going crazy. There’s no funeral for Sirius as there’s no body to actually bury, Harry is presumed missing after an attack in Diagon Alley, and your name stares back at him mockingly. He tries not to dwell on your passing — there have been too many holes, too many details left unsaid; and he knows just the rat who has all the answers. Unfortunately, Wormtail won’t come out of whatever hole he’s crawled into. Either him, or Severus. 
He sighs, rubbing the temples of his head to ease the growing pains. 
You are the first to be buried of the five. Like Sirius, there had been no recovered body to lay to rest, but they asked for a compromise instead. Your name is engraved under Euphemia’s in her tombstone, and Remus figures it’s the fitting place to leave you be — with your mother, welcoming you home with open arms. He hopes you’re at peace, wherever you are. (Because, honestly, at this point, he might just fucking follow you.) 
Remus takes another swig of his alcohol, laughing bitterly to himself. He glances at James’s headstone and raises his bottle to him. “Not even in death, huh?”
He downs the last of the drink, rising to his tremulous legs. Remus gathers the flower bouquets he had bought earlier this morning; lilies-of-the-valley for Lily, white carnations for Euphemia, forget-me-nots for you, and for James — Remus leaves a moving photograph of him and Sirius; it’s a snapshot taken by Lily during the wedding as James dips his head low to kiss Sirius. Remus thinks it’s a wonderful memory to remember them by. 
“Take care of them for me, Jamie.”
And that is all the goodbyes Remus has the strength for. 
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end note. i think i was crying the whole time i was writing this part, LMAO. i should be able to wrap things up in the next one. important!! there is actually a scene i was hesitant to include, but i ended up writing anyway. it's the whole part where allegra greengrass breaks down, and it was difficult for me to decide because i knew the implications; that i had a strong underlying message in that part, and i don't want it to be misconstrued or anything. pls pls tell me if it comes off as offensive, i definitely don't want to hurt anyone. nevertheless, thank you again so so so much for reading!! if you spot a plot hole, no you didnt!! i hope the time-jumps weren't too confusing! again, thank you so so much for reading!!
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moonstruckme · 2 months
Note
hi lovely!! if you're comfortable writing something like this, could I maybe request poly!marauders where reader who is normally very independent but gets submissive at times, but not in a sexual way? like she just gets overwhelmed and wants the boys to be in charge for a while, but maybe the relationship is still new and she feels too needy and can't bring herself to tell them and eventually they realize?
again, no worries if you're not comfortable writing this, just thought I'd ask <3
Thank you for requesting gorgeous !
poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 1k words
“This is deeply, atrociously unjust,” Sirius says as James sits down in front of you, him on the floor and you on the couch. He’s wet and fresh-smelling from the shower. “You never let me do your hair.” 
“Because you always act like you’re trying to tear it out as some sort of twisted revenge plot,” says James, passing you a brush and the curl cream you and Sirius had found for him. Normally, you adore this routine, the chance to run your fingers through James’ hair and the way his eyes close blissfully while you do it. You love to pamper him. But tonight you’re not really in the mood. You do it because he expects you to, coating his curls in product with your usual tenderness but wishing you were on the receiving end of it instead. “She’s got the touch of an angel.” 
Sirius crosses his arms. He’s leaned against the side of the couch, leering over you like a vulture. Remus is reading in the armchair, and though he’s pretending to ignore all of you, the corner of his mouth tilts up. 
“Beauty is pain,” Sirius grouses.
“We should start a hair train,” James decides. “She’ll do mine, you can do hers, Remus will do yours, and I’ll do his.” 
Sirius seems to be considering this. You lean down towards James’ ear. “You’re throwing me to the wolves,” you stage-whisper. 
“It’s you or me, sweetheart.” 
Actually, the idea of Sirius playing with your hair—even at the risk of losing a good amount of it—doesn’t sound so awful. 
“I can get in the shower right now,” you offer, only half joking. 
Sirius lets a grin slip loose, sitting next to you to plant a smacker on your cheek. “Thank you, darling, but that’s alright. You shouldn’t have to atone for his mistakes.” 
You return his smile, doing your best to bury your disappointment.
“I didn’t consent to the hair train either,” Remus says without looking up from his book. “There’s a reason James doesn’t do his own hair.” 
“Oi,” James objects. “I’ve got admirers fighting over the opportunity to do my hair, why would I do it myself?” 
Remus marks his page, flipping the book closed. “What are we having for dinner?” he asks. 
“I don’t know, but I’m famished.” James doesn’t miss a beat, latching onto the new topic eagerly. “We could order takeaway?” 
“Or just cut out the middleman and go out,” Sirius says. “Unless someone feels like cooking? Which I don’t.” 
“We know,” Remus teases. “I don’t either, not tonight.” 
“I could if I needed to,” James says, “but I’m alright with whatever gets food in me the fastest.” 
They all look to you. “I don’t much feel like cooking,” you add your piece. Your voice comes out quieter than you’d intended.
“Alright,” Remus says. “Then let’s not cook tonight. What do you want to do, love? Go out or stay in?” 
You comb the brush slowly through James’ hair, twisting to define his curls. “I don’t know,” you say. 
Sirius turns to you, frowning. “Come on, baby.” He bumps your shoulder lightly with his. “What do you feel like having?” 
“I don’t know.” You try not to sigh. “Um, can you pick?”
You don’t look up from the top of James’ head, but you can feel them exchanging looks. They’ve all been a little extra gentle with you lately. They know you’re dealing with a lot. Anytime you try to tally it all up and make sense of it in your head, you start feeling like you could cry. Your exhaustion has sunk so deeply within you that it’s seeped into your bloodstream. You think by now there’s got to be traces of it in the marrow of your bones. 
“Hey,” Sirius says softly. “Look at me.” 
You do, pausing with the brush held aloft over James’ head. He’s got his eyebrows drawn together like he’s trying to figure you out. “I’m sorry,” you say. It’s not your boyfriends’ faults that you’re feeling overwhelmed; you don’t mean to drag them down with you. 
“What for, sweetness?” He sets a hand on your thigh, rings biting into your skin as he gives the flesh a loving squeeze. “Just tell us what you need.” 
You try to give him a smile. You really do love him. “I want…I don’t know, I guess I’m just tired. I want to not think for a little while.” 
Sirius’ eyebrows come up a bit in the middle, and James turns around from below you. 
“Aw, sweetheart.” His tone is as gooey and sweet as raw honey. “Do you just want us to take care of you, angel?” He sets his hands on your knees, pushing himself up to kiss your chin. “You should’ve said something.” 
“We can stay in,” Remus suggests whilst James worms his way underneath you, getting you in his lap. “Order takeaway from that Thai place you like.” 
“That sounds nice,” you say meekly, face growing warm. James presses rapid-fire kisses to your cheek. One-two-three. 
“You wanna have a shower, baby?” Sirius asks you. He looks heart-wrenchingly concerned. It’s not like you to want to give away control like this. “I could do your hair when you get out.” 
“Don’t do it,” James cautions you. “He steals our hair to make tiny dolls of us, I’m sure of it.” 
Sirius sends him a withering look. “I’ll be gentle.” 
“I’d like that,” you tell Sirius, and he softens. 
“Yeah?” He brushes a piece of hair away from your face and presses his hand to your cheek. Squishy fond. “Okay, baby, we’ll pamper you to hell and back.” 
“I’m going to find the menu for takeaway,” Remus says, prying himself up from his chair. 
“James,” Sirius says, not particularly kindly, “you will have to let her go for her to shower.” 
“Never. Not on my life. Not at gunpoint.” You shrink as James makes his face at home in the juncture of your neck and shoulder, nose nudging at a ticklish spot. “She’s my darling sweetheart angel.” 
“She’s our darling sweetheart angel,” Remus corrects him from the kitchen. You think your face could melt titanium. 
“James, please,” you complain. “I’m never telling you all anything again.” “Careful.” Sirius raises an eyebrow at you, mock stern. “That sounded dangerously close to a thought, and those won’t be allowed until at least tomorrow morning.”
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ddejavvu · 7 months
Note
Omg could we get another part of animagus cat reader and Sirius? Maybe they’re napping together and the boys try to take cat reader as a joke/because they’re curious while she’s sleeping and she suddenly transforms back as they pick her up LOL. Sirius is grumpy to be woken up/have their special time now exposed hehe
part 1
--
Sirius's bedcurtains are drawn, a clear sign that James and Remus should grant him some privacy.
Unfortunately, James Potter has never been one to take hints, and Remus strictly stays out of their shenanigans. It's only when James gasps with the entire capacity of his lungs that Remus peers curiously over at the bed in the corner, intrigue piqued when he finds a newly familiar form curled up on Sirius's chest.
"That cat!" James hisses, and he's particularly lucky that Sirius is laying on his side with your chin nuzzled over his ear, or the boy would have heard him. Instead, it's you that wakes, eyes blinking open wide as you stare at the men staring back down at you.
"Hi, darling," Remus hums softly, reaching out a tentative, scarred hand to hover it near your nose. You don't need any time for inspection before butting your head up against the heel of his palm, and he grants you a warm chuckle and scratches behind your ears. When you're not transformed, the feeling of someone toying with your hair is entirely unwelcome. But now you lean into Remus's touch, slumping relaxed once more over Sirius's ear.
"Stop hogging her," James urges, sticking his own hand less ceremoniously beneath your nose, "I want a turn."
Remus concedes with an exasperated grimace, but lets James take over anyways. He's lucky that you're you and he doesn't even know it, because if he'd tried petting any other cat by jamming his fingers into their neck, he'd be walking away with several scratch marks on his arms. But you forgive him as he tries petting you too similarly to how he pets Sirius in the man's own animagus form, all riling strokes and heavy-handed pats. You let out a soft mewl of protest when he tries picking you up, and Remus mutters something about you being the most patient cat in the world.
"Just leave her alone, James," Remus warns his friend, "Her patience is gonna wear out."
He listens for only a second, then decides he knows best.
"S'alright, Moony," He promises his friend, over-confident and too eager for affection he hasn't earned yet, "She's layin' all over Sirius, clearly wants a cuddle. You snooze, you lose, now it's my turn."
James's hand slides to your underbelly, an area you're not fond of being handled at in this form. Annoyance surges through you, prickling at your fur and making you long for the smooth expanse of your human skin again, an urge that you give into without much thought when James tries prying you off of Sirius's face.
There's a lot of noises at once. A pained yelp from Sirius, when you form suddenly weighs a lot heavier on him than it was when you'd laid down. A 'woah!' from James as your fur gives way to soft skin beneath his hands which he quickly retracts. A soft gasp from Remus who hadn't been expecting the rather unpleasant sound of transforming between bodies.
Two sets of eyes regard you with incredulity, and one blinks slowly beneath you, laden with drowsiness.
"It's you," James breathes, an air of amazement in his voice that shouldn't be there; after all, he's an animagus as well. Surely he should have noticed shifty behavior or a change in mannerisms from you. All of a sudden your preference for Sirius's softer, fluffy sweaters makes sense.
"Yes, it's me." You huff exasperatedly, perched precariously on Sirius's once-sleeping form. He's not pushing you off but you're sure it's not comfortable, so you slide yourself in front of him instead, easing back against him and letting him spoon you.
"Cat's out of the bag," Sirius rasps sleepily beside your ear, and you don't have to look at him to know he's grinning at his rather pitiful joke, "Did he try to pick you up?"
"Right around the stomach," You gripe, glaring at James while Sirius wraps his arm around the very portion of your body you'd just forbidden James from touching, "Like a toddler."
"For the record," Remus calls, "I was nice to you."
"I was nice too!" James gawps, "I just wanted a cuddle."
"Get your own girlfriend," Sirius drawls lazily, his face buried against the back of your head, and maybe it's a biting statement considering one Lily Evans is still firmly opposed to the presence of James in her life. Sirius knows, and amends it, "Or crawl into Moony's bed. I don't care, "Jus' keep your hands off m'girl."
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appocalipse · 11 months
Text
RIGHT WHERE I WANT TO BE : ̗̀➛ SIRIUS BLACK
summary: it's only when lily accidentally spills amortentia on you and all you can smell is cigarettes and dog fur that you realize you're in love with sirius — probably the only person in the world you shouldn't be in love with.
"Oh, crap!" Lily seems on the verge of panic as she stares at the fresh stain on your clothes. "I'm so sorry!"
Somewhat shocked, you reach your hand to the front of your uniform and try to rub it away. It's no use. "It's okay," you assure her gently, relieved that the liquid didn't spill on the clean set of clothes you were folding instead, "it was an accident."
You put the clothes safely away in the trunk near your bed. They still have the fresh and clean scent of lavender. Your uniform, however…
Lily points her wand at your chest, and the stain quickly disappears. She had rushed through the entrance of the dormitory fast as lightning, crashing right into you and spilling…
Well, what exactly?
"Lily," you bring a hand to your own face, sniffing, then sniffing again. "What is this? It smells like a wet dog and-"
Your eyes meet and you immediately dislike the look on her face. Too much restrained excitement slowly bubbling up...
"-cigarettes…" you trail off, some sort of realization dawning on you way too late.
It can't be.
Lily bites her lower lip as if trying to hold back a smile. "Is that what it smells like to you?"
You also catch the scent of quill ink and freshly brewed coffee, so it can only be…
You put your hand away from your nose as if it's on fire.
"Tell me this is not what I think this is."
"If you're not thinking of Amortentia, then yes."
"Why would you brew Amortentia?!"
"For Professor Slughorn," she sees the confusion etched on your face and looks positively horrified. "Not for Professor Slughorn to drink! Ew! I said I'd like to try brewing one because it's, you know, a bit complicated and I've never tried before. He said he'd give Gryffindor some points if I succeeded. I didn't know you would… you know, smell Sirius."
"I never said I smelled him!"
"Okay! Okay," Lily raises both hands in surrender. Then, quieter, she adds, "You can pretend all you want."
You sigh. "Did you only have this vial?"
"Well, there should be some potion left in the cauldron, I think."
Great. An opportunity to escape this beyond strange situation. "I'll go get it for you."
"But I-"
You're out the Gryffindor common room before Lily has a chance to question your offer. The need to get away from that impending conversation is stronger than anything else right now.
Your heart is racing as you walk through the corridors of the castle, heading towards the dungeons, where Potions class usually take place. Each step is an effort to calm your turbulent mind and find some peace.
Upon reaching the Potions classroom, you welcome the silent space as you enter. The characteristic smell of magical ingredients and herbs fills your nostrils, bringing a familiar and almost comforting sensation… until you catch that smell. Amortentia.
You look around, searching for Lily's cauldron, which she mentioned leaving behind.
It's not hard to find; the smell is quite distinct, enchanting, all the things you love most in the world somehow united in a single aroma.
The cauldron is sitting on one of the workbenches. You approach cautiously, making sure not to knock anything over. Then you rummage through the shelves for an empty vial and pour some of the potion into it, feeling like you're doing something wrong even though Lily had Slughorn's permission.
The door opens, and you almost drop a row of glass bottles as you turn to look.
"What are you doing here?" he asks.
It's Sirius. Of course, it's him.
He closes the door behind him, and your heart skips a beat as it usually does whenever he's around. He's wearing the Gryffindor uniform, the first two buttons undone, revealing a patch of delicate skin just below his neck.
You don't need to wonder how he got there or why. Chances are, he extracted every piece of information he needed from Lily with little to no effort.
"What are you doing?" he asks calmly. You, on the other hand, don't feel calm at all.
"Nothing, just..."
"Just?" He takes a step closer, and you instinctively move away from the workbench, trying not to show the nervousness you truly feel.
"I just came to get something," you say.
Sirius gives a suspicious glance at the cauldron. "Is it a love potion?" He's a skilled wizard. Skilled enough to know the answer to that question, yet he waits for you to respond.
"Lily made it," you say defensively, holding up the vial containing the potion to illustrate your point unnecessarily.
"And what scent do you smell?" he questions, with a genuine curiosity in his tone that catches you off guard. "What does the potion smell like to you?"
"Lily told you," it's far from a question.
But Sirius has a knack for playing games.
"She told me what?"
"You know what."
This time, you step back as he advances, unable to help yourself, swallowing hard and Sirius notices. He takes another step forward, and you take another step back.
"Sirius," you warn.
In return, Sirius says your name, his tone lighter, more playful, soft as a feather. Then, another step.
You nearly bump your hip against one of the workbenches as you take another desperate step back. Sirius, being Sirius, raises an eyebrow, making no effort to hide his amusement.
It's unfair. It's simply unfair that he's so good-looking, starting at you without feeling the need to averting his gaze. "You don't have to do this," you find yourself saying.
Sirius seems genuinely puzzled.
"Do what?"
You steal a glance in your peripheral vision. The room won't go on forever; you need to say something to get out of this situation before he gets too close. You don't trust yourself near Sirius.
"Turn me down. Be all nice-" you stutter. He keeps advancing toward you. Back almost against the wall, you dodge another workbench and turn to the left, trying to prevent him from cornering you.
Sirius chuckles. "Is that what you think?"
"I'm a big girl. I can take rejection."
He glances in the direction of the cauldron. "Do you want to know what scent I smell?"
"No."
"Leather-"
"Sirius-"
"Gasoline," he raises his chin, nose in the air as if enjoying one scent after another. "Apple pie."
For a moment, you close your eyes. "Stop it."
"And lavender."
Your heart is pounding in your chest. He's not being serious, a little voice in your mind insists. It can't be serious. He's just teasing you... or maybe just being a good friend. Too good a friend.
It would be easier if he wasn't. If he were less kind to you, less handsome, less charming.
It's not easy.
You're breathless, trying to keep your distance from Sirius as he sets a slow advance, a constant tease. It's an internal battle between the desire to give in to the attraction you feel for him and the need to protect yourself — but the latter wins, for now.
"Sirius," you plead, your voice quiet, "stop"
He pauses for a moment, his gray eyes fixed on yours. "You think I'm joking, don't you? You think I'm just being nice?"
"I... I don't know, Sirius. It's so...confusing."
He takes yet another step towards you, his lips curling into a challenging smile. Always challenging. "Confusing or scary?"
The tension between you two is palpable, and you wonder if he can hear the rapid beating of your heart, threatening to break out of your rib cage any given moment. You know you're fighting your own feelings, afraid of surrendering to something that may - and probably will - end in heartbreak.
"It's not fair," you whisper, trying to keep your voice steady. "It's not fair that you're so... so-"
"So what?" he teases, closer. "So handsome? So charming? So... irresistible?"
You can tell he's somehow having fun. You don't understand how he can maintain a playful tone in a moment like this.
You catch a whiff of his cologne, feel the warmth of his body, and your heart races once again. If there's a way to prevent Sirius from getting what he wants, you don't know what it is. "So confusing," you finish, almost in a whisper. "You confuse the hell out of me."
Sirius pauses for a moment, his eyes locked with yours, and you momentarily catch a flicker of something deeper in this playful gaze. He slowly raises a hand and gently, gentler than ever, caresses your face, his fingers tracing a delicate path along your skin.
"I don't see how I could be confusing you," he murmurs, his voice soft and husky. "I thought I was being pretty clear..." It's teasing, of course it is; when it comes to Sirius, few things aren't.
But there's something else behind it, too.
The air grows heavier.
"You're not clear about anything, Sirius," you reply, your voice faltering slightly. "I never know what you're thinking. I never know what you really mean."
"Maybe you're just not paying attention."
You furrow your brow, confused by Sirius' response. He's playing with you, as he always does, but this time it feels more intense, more meaningful. You struggle against the temptation to give in completely, to say something you might not be able to take back.
"I do pay attention, Sirius," you respond, your voice showing determination you're not entirely sure you feel. "It's you who likes to make everything more difficult than it needs to be."
He moves closer once again, so close now that you can feel his breath against your skin, the tip of his nose an inch away from touching yours.
"Do you want me to be clearer?" he whispers, voice laced with a hint of his usual mischief. "Make it easier?"
You swallow, feeling your heart race. You know you can't admit your feelings for him, you can't let your defenses down. Not when he makes a point to hide comfortably behind a facade, away from anything that makes him feel vulnerable.
You need honesty.
"Yes," you whisper, your voice almost faltering. "Yes, I do."
Sirius pauses for a moment, eyes searching yours, and you can feel your breath catch in your throat. Then, slowly, he moves closer and closer still, until his lips almost touch yours.
There is a feeling that you can't quite put into words.
"I want you," he murmurs, an admission that hangs in the air like a charged electric current. "I want to be with you. I want you to be happy– I'll even accept your awful taste in music," he adds with a playful smirk, teasingly referencing your occasional guilty pleasure for a particular genre of music that he often mocks.
A laugh escapes your lips, a combination of relief and affection. His sincerity is pretty close to melting away any remaining doubts that linger in your heart. "I have great taste in music," you state playfully.
Sirius brushes the side of his nose against yours affectionately. "Sometimes," he gives in, voice filled with genuine warmth.
You lean into his touch, savoring the tenderness and intimacy of the moment. It's as if the world around you has faded away, leaving only the two of you in this bubble of shared emotions.
"Sometimes?" you raise an eyebrow, pretending to be offended.
He chuckles, a low and melodic sound that resonates deep within your chest, a sound you don't get to hear as often as you'd like. "You're lucky you're pretty," he teases, his voice filled with affectionate playfulness.
"Oh?"
"I have a soft spot for pretty girls."
You roll your eyes but can't help the smile that forms on your lips. "Flattery will get you nowhere, Black."
Sirius leans in and presses a soft kiss to your cheek, pulling away with a mischievous glint in his eyes.
"Who said I was trying to get anywhere?" he whispers, fingers trailing along the curve of your waist, drawing you closer. "I'm already where I want to be."
Your heart swells with warmth, and you can feel a blush creeping up your cheeks.
"Smooth talker."
It doesn't sound like an accusation when you're about to kiss him.
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