Go to your classes- especially the "easy" lessons: If your course has an attendance requirement, dont fill the quota at the start of the semester because everything is "easy". Go to your lectures and cash out your "free skips" if assignments get too much. It help a lot not needing to worry if you've missed too many classes.
Practical/ tutorial/ labs>>> lectures (in most cases): In most cases, the practicals are smaller classes with more one-on-one teaching and reinforce lectures.
Make friends: Making friends in a class really help with motivation- especially if they're a more motivated person than you. Not to say you can't be the more motivated person, but wanting to be able to keep up with them is good, healthy, friendly competition/motivation. Sit with them, talk to them, get their number, ask them about assignments and exams, don't treat them as a classmate, but as a friend.
Reading: Keep up with your reading, especially in reading heavy courses. this includes reading the material provided but also skimming the secondary sources and additional research as needed. Read your slides/ notes thoroughly, read the articles mentioned and skim any secondary reading/suggested material.
SCHEDULE!!!!: If you can, choose you classes before hand, read the course description and if available, use the timetable finder to make a mock timetable. It helps when signing up for classes. Larger, more popular courses get filled up very quickly and so do the best times.
Speaking of times...: Unless for whatever reason you are an ACUTAL morning person, DON'T SCHEDULE ANY CLASSES BEFORE 10 AM (if its avoidable, then it's a must). And no, morning person isn't "ehe~ I wake up at 6am and love the sun". Its being able to study, go to sleep, finish assignments, rest and take care of yourself sufficiently while being able to function in an 8am class.
Respect your professors and their rules: This sounds obvious and it is. Some are more lenient than others and will allow you to submit one or two days past a deadline, no questions asked with no repercussions. Treasure these lectures and respect that. Don't go submitting a week late with no excuse. You have other courses, they also have other courses and many other students.
All (if not most) assignments matter: This isn't high school, where only a final exam determines a grade, or where you can skip every lesson, show up, take an exam and still pass. You may have assignments, quizzes, course works and the thing we all know and love, finals. Somewhere you'll find the weighting of them, and youll know how to prioritize. Having said that, yes, that quiz next week that is on back to back days with a 15% course work and a 30% assignment you didn't start yet is only 3%, but it matters, it could be the difference between a pass and a fail.
Summary: Kaeya is feeling lonely on a cliff. No character death.
WARNING(S): Anxiety, depression, suicidal thoughts, contemplating suicide(is that the same thing?).
Sunshine. A gentle breeze playing with his hair. These are things that usually calmed him. Today, they only numbed the anxiety. It did nothing to quiet the inner voice tormenting his thoughts. Those tantalizing whispers of peace. The edge of Starsnatch Cliff beckoned like a siren.
It wasn’t that Kaeya wanted to die. On the contrary, actually, he wanted to live. He wanted to be with his friends, his family. That in itself was the issue, he supposed. The longing to be with people who didn’t have the time or didn’t want him around. They love him and he loves them. But people drifted apart. People fought and yelled and left. He yearned to be a significant part of their lives but they had others to fill that role. No one needed him, really.
Jean always needs extra hands.
Amber needs someone to keep her on her toes.
Klee would miss you.
Albedo needs someone to keep him company.
Rosaria would throw a fit if you died.
Bennet always needs another person to look out for him.
Noelle would lose her support.
Diluc…
Actually, there was no telling how Diluc would react. Losing the last of his family could ruin him. Would Diluc finally crash and burn after Kaeya’s death? Would he cry? Would he rage? Would the flames of vengeance once again set ablaze something it shouldn’t?
He should live, for Diluc’s sake, at least. Even if it meant anxiety winding up tighter than a spring. Even if he drifted too far from the shore his friends, his family stood on. Even if everything he wanted lay just out of reach, enough to brush against but never to grasp. Even if it meant drowning in chains.
Toes met the edge. Kaeya leaned and gazed longingly at the distance from the water below. The breeze brushed his cheeks, blowing opposite of him. One step. One step and he would plummet. He could. Oh, how easy it would be. His fingers extended, reached for the horizon.
Then…
…dropped.
Neither way would he be happy. If he fell… Oblivion. If he returned home… Emptiness. All that awaited him was silence and loneliness.
…
Diluc’s shift should be tonight.
A breath. He would go to the tavern and pester Diluc. Seek out his attention. Because it didn’t matter. As long as his brother looked at him, acknowledged his existence, it would stave off the inevitable. Because he would return to this cliff one day. The day his burden would return. His life in Mondstadt would be paid in his blood.
in which : alhaitham speaks to you in 5 different languages, unaware that you understand every word he says.
wc 7.3k (pls give it a chance lol), academic rivals to lovers, unrequited hate, attempt at humor, college au, denial + pinning.. crazy ik, he falls first (and harder), tw stalking by a drunkard, a genius on paper but a total dumbass when it comes to crushes, lil smau at the end!, ft. sumeru gang. art by @/gamegatchihaja on x.
ps. translations ay nasa maliliit na titik, katulad neto!!
ps. translations will be in small letters, like this!!
PROLOGUE: GOD I HATE THIS GUY! (DOES HE THINK IM STUPID?)
the semester is nearing its conclusion, and the imminent approach of finals marks the most critical period of the year; students rush through the halls, clutching their notes and textbooks like lifelines, while you pour every ounce of effort into your studies —not just for your grades, but also to surpass a certain arrogant scholar.
alhaitham.
the name tastes like spoiled milk on your tongue, a sour reminder of all the times he’s bested you, even if it’s just by a small margin, leaving you dumbfounded when the difference between your marks during the last exam was a mere 1%.
you were groveling in front of your professor, “please, just round the marks up?” you could practically feel your dignity slipping away. and the worst part? you were so desperate that you started mentally calculating how many odd jobs you’d be willing to do just to sweeten the deal.
(maybe you’ll help organize the office, run around the campus to buy him drinks every day, or even wipe down the windows of his car…)
disclaimer: he ultimately said no, but he did compliment your impeccable taste in coffee so, a win is a win?
anyhow, alhaitham’s nonchalance only adds to your frustration, especially when he switches to a different language mid-conversation. it feels like he’s rubbing salt in your wounds, why of course you can understand him perfectly —after all, you aren’t majoring in linguistics for no reason, plus he's not the only one who’s fluent in multiple languages.
though you keep that to yourself, perhaps because the things he says in those languages, which he assumes you don’t understand, are far from innocent, unknowingly letting you have a glimpse into his true feelings.
ACT I: WHOLEHEARTEDLY, I DETEST YOU.
alhaitham would never fall in love —such irrational and illogical emotions held no value to him.
that was what he always believed, but then he saw you.
the way you laughed so unapologetically at cyno’s jokes, how you always stood firm by your beliefs, your refusal to compromise who you are; you were a breath of fresh air in a world that often felt stifling.
as much as he tries to act unfazed, he can't help the heat prickling his skin nor the way his composure falters just slightly in your presence. and when his heart raced for the first time in what felt like forever, he knew —he was completely, utterly screwed.
(“fix me, kaveh.” / “hah. who do you think i am, ‘y/n’?”)
when kaveh told him that he just had a simple “crush”, he nearly rolled his eyes so hard he thought they might get stuck there permanently.)
likewise, this ugly arrogant handsome bastard here, is one you’ll never fall in love with.
he’s infuriating, completely insufferable, and yet there’s something about him, something hidden beneath that arrogance, that draws you in. the idea that you could ever fall for someone like him seems laughable, impossible even. he's exactly the kind of person you should avoid and you know better than to be charmed by someone like him. yet, there's that nagging feeling, deep down, that perhaps you’re not as immune to him as you think.
by some stroke of luck, you’re in the same major, same year, and even enrolled in the same lecture periods, which means you end up in the same place at the same time more often than not.
but you can’t deny that, in some twisted way, you admire him. his intellect is beyond impressive, even if it annoys you to admit it. so surely, in his eyes, you’re still inferior, and you often wonder if he even considers your ideas as worthy of attention.
(they are.)
ACT II: YOUR WATCHFUL EYES, I CAN’T IGNORE.
your pen glides across the pages as you jot down notes, fully absorbed in your studies, barely registering the faint sound of distant chatter.
unbeknownst to you, a group of students has gathered just outside the lecture hall, peeking in from the door with curious, amused expressions. they’re clearly there for you, exchanging glances and murmurs, waiting for the moment you step outside.
you don’t notice, but alhaitham, seated a few feet away, certainly does.
his eyes narrow slightly as he takes in the scene. he doesn’t say anything at first, but his jaw clenches ever so subtly. as you begin to pack up, you glance up to find him standing in front of you, his tall figure effectively blocking the group outside’s direct line of sight to you.
with a discreet glance over his shoulder, he shoots them a cold, unmistakable glare. they visibly shudder, seemingly getting the message as they awkwardly shuffle away.
“what was that about?”
alhaitham leans against your desk, “nothing important,” his tone is dismissive, laced with irritation, his gaze still fixed on the now-empty doorway.
you narrow your eyes, unimpressed. “really? you just scared them off for no reason?”
“just getting rid of some… distractions,” he says casually, turning his attention back towards you. you raise an eyebrow, clearly not believing his words. “distractions? they weren’t bothering me.”
his expression remains impassive, “khi họ cứ để ý đến em như vậy… em thấy không phiền, còn tôi thì có.”
“seeing them constantly paying attention to you… you're not bothered by it, but i am.”
“bởi vì cái cách mà em chú tâm hoàn toàn vào một việc gì đó… nó quyến rũ vô cùng.”
because the way you completely focus on something… is truly mesmerising.
you blink, feeling a momentary flush of confusion and surprise at the words slipping from his mouth. did he just—? but before you can fully process it, he continues.
“vậy nên tôi cũng không thể trách họ khi họ muốn nhìn em gần và lâu hơn được.”
so i don’t blame them when they want to look at you closer and longer.
his words linger in the air, a moment passes before it clicks —he doesn’t think you understand. that’s why he’s speaking so… freely; letting slip things he’d never say outright in a language you both speak fluently.
“nhưng mà… chắc không ai trong số bọn họ có thể sánh ngang với tôi, em nhỉ?”
but… none of them can compare to me, right?
your chest tightens as a surge of warmth courses through you.
his detached attitude only fuels your irritation. but there’s also a certain satisfaction in knowing something he doesn’t: you’ve understood every single word he’s said.
feigning ignorance, you raise an eyebrow, meeting his gaze with what you hope is a neutral expression. "what are you going on about?" you ask.
his expression remains as stoic as ever, not a single crack in his mask. he simply shrugs, eyes still on you, "just telling you to focus more.”
your grip on the pen tightens, there's a part of you that wants to wipe that smug look off his face, to show him you're not as clueless as he assumes. but not yet —you’re curious to see just how far he’s willing to push.
"right," you mutter under your breath, tapping the pen against your notebook. "focus. got it."
he leans down slightly, one arm resting on the back of your chair while the other presses against the table, effectively caging you in.
"you're wasting time, finals are coming up." he takes a brief pause before continuing, "i wish you the best of luck, you’ll need it.”
your eyes snap up to him in a glare, “don’t you have somewhere to be?" you bite back.
alhaitham straightens, giving you a final glance before turning towards the door. “naturally, i have studying to do.”
“bởi vì tôi sẽ chứng minh cho em thấy rằng chỉ có tôi mới xứng tầm làm đối thủ học thuật của em, không một ai khác.”
because i will prove to you that only i am worthy of being your rival, no one else.
why did he frame it as if it’s a privilege only he can claim? or is he trying to… flatter you?!
you shake your head, no way, that’s ridiculous. finals are coming up, there’s no time to dwell on whatever mind games he’s playing. though if the almighty alhaitham wants a rival, then you’ll show him exactly what it means to stand at the pinnacle.
ACT III: IN MY DREAMS, I SCORED HIGHER THAN YOU.
you’re tired, the kind of tired that seeps deep into your bones. every blink stretches longer than the last and you find it increasingly difficult to focus on the words in front of you. stifling a yawn, you feel the pull of sleep tugging at you, whispering sweet promises of rest.
there’s still time till your next class.
maybe you'll take a moment to close your eyes, just for a few seconds…
did you not get enough sleep last night, or did you stay up late studying again? alhaitham watches silently from across the room, his eyes narrowing as your head droops lower, your exhaustion becoming painfully obvious with each passing second. his gaze lingers on the way your pen pauses mid-sentence, the line on your notebook trailing off as your hand grows heavy.
he pushes himself up from his seat, and approaches your desk; he notices the sunlight streaming through the window, harsh and unrelenting, hitting right over the table where you’re sitting. he looks at you —eyes closed, with the faintest crease of discomfort on your brow.
without a word, he reaches out and slips the pen from your grip, the slight shift causing your fingers to twitch, but you don’t wake.
for a fleeting second, he considers waking you. but then, as you shift again, settling more comfortably into your chair, he decides against it. what good would that do, anyway? you’d probably just brush him off and keep going until you collapse from sheer fatigue. typical.
instead, he adjusts his stance slightly, positioning himself just right to make sure the sunlight is fully blocked from your face, casting you in a cool shadow.
you mumble something incoherent, and he can’t help but roll his eyes at your state. did you really think burning yourself out like this would help you focus?
“stubborn,” he mutters under his breath.
you're always like this, pushing yourself past your limits, and while part of him respects your determination to outdo him, he won’t allow it to come at the expense of your health.
you stir from your slumber, lifting your head, your gaze lands on a familiar figure standing to the side of your table. his back turned, facing the sunlight that streams in from the window.
alhaitham.
he’s close, so close that his broad shoulders completely block out the sunlight from the window. the sight sends a rush of confusion through your already sleep-addled mind. did he… stand there the whole time? why?
you shift slightly in your seat, your movement catching his attention. without turning, he speaks in that low, steady tone of his, “you’re awake.”
“alhaitham?” you murmur, your voice still thick with sleep.
he glances over his shoulder, just enough for you to catch a glimpse of the calm expression on his face. “you’ve been out for a while,” he comments, a hint of amusement in his voice. “i was starting to think you’d sleep through your next class.”
you rub the sleep from your eyes, “why didn’t you wake me up then?”
his shoulders shift slightly as he shrugs, still facing away from you. “you looked like you needed the rest. besides, it’s more entertaining to see how long you’d stay asleep.”
a flicker of annoyance courses through you as you roll your eyes, “oh, so you mean you care?”
he turns slightly, and you can see a hint of a smirk on his lips. “don’t read too much into it. i just prefer my competition functioning at their best.”
you wish you could roll your eyes harder because this man has an uncanny talent for grating on your nerves while somehow being insufferably charming at the same time.
“ah yes —because you need me to keep up with you,” you remark sarcastically.
“exactly.” you let out an exasperated sigh as you lean back in your chair. “you really think so highly of yourself, don’t you?”
“mushiro, kimi no koto o hijō ni takaku hyōka shiteiru yo.”
if anything, i think highly of you.
your brows knit together in surprise, and you can’t help but scoff. “what was that? i didn't catch it.”
“i said i won’t go easy on you.” oh, the audacity. he’s lying again, and he knows it.
the corners of your mouth twitch in disbelief as you scrutinise his expression. there’s that familiar glimmer in his eyes, a spark of mischief that tells you he’s enjoying this too much.
“whatever,” you retort, crossing your arms defiantly. “not like i want you to anyway.”
despite your words, you can't deny that his actions earlier were surprisingly endearing. you wonder how long he intends to keep this up. perhaps it’s time you let him know.
“ii ne, kimi ga iraira shite iru toki wa kawaiikara.”
good, because you’re cute when you’re all riled up.
you feel a blush creep into your cheeks at his words, okay maybe you shouldn’t let him know. you instinctively look away, as if avoiding his gaze can help you regain your composure.
cute? what does he mean “cute”?! he thinks he can get away with calling you cute —well… well, there’s not much you can do about it, you’re not ready to confront him about this either.
the mere thought of asking him directly makes your stomach twist with a year’s worth of embarrassment. yet, as you try to refocus on the book in front of you, you find yourself biting your lip, struggling to suppress a smile that threatens to break free.
ACT IV: I WOKE UP TODAY, AND A DREAM CAME TRUE.
the hallway buzzes with excitement as students gather around the large announcement board, eager to see the results of their theses. you push through the crowd, heart pounding, the low hum of chatter filling your ears.
when you reach the front, you quickly scan the list; the moment your eyes land on your name, your breath catches in your throat.
there it is, in bold red ink at the top of the board —a score higher than you’d ever hoped for, higher than his. and your name, on top of his.
alhaitham.
you glance over and spot him approaching the board, approaching you. his expression is, as always, unreadable. but you know him well enough by now to catch the slight pause in his movements, the brief moment where his eyes linger just a second too long on the board.
you try not to think too much about it as you collect your thesis, with alhaitham following closely behind, his fingers nearly grazing yours as you both sift through the stack of papers on the table.
you take in the glowing praise from your professor, each word making you feel like every all-nighter was worth it. you clutch the paper, resisting the urge to grin like an idiot.
glancing sideways, you wait for him to say something, maybe some backhanded comment, but he remains silent. your eyes meet, and there’s a shift in his gaze as the usual sharpness in his eyes dulls ever so slightly, your smile lingering like the first light of dawn breaking through the night's embrace.
it’s subtle —just a flicker —but you catch how his gaze falters, softening, if only for a heartbeat. the edges of his stare blur, drawn to the warmth of your expression as though it’s something he hadn’t meant to witness, yet can’t look away from.
at this moment,
"looks like i finally beat you," you say, not bothering to suppress the grin spreading across your face now.
he feels like
there’s no scowl, no sign of frustration —just the slightest raise of an eyebrow. “hmm. by a point.” he pauses, studying you for a second longer than necessary before returning his gaze to his paper. “enjoy it while it lasts.”
he's in heaven.
it’s as if he’s not bothered by the outcome at all. in fact, if anything, he seems... satisfied?
"hindi dapat ganito kalala ang epekto ng ngiti mo sa akin."
your smile shouldn't affect me this badly.
“—huh?” your mouth drops slightly open at his words; out of everything, you didn’t expect him to say that. it catches you off guard, making your heart race just a little faster. if you peer closely enough, you might catch a glimpse of the gentle arch of his lips, a ghost of a smile.
the silence stretches on for a beat too long before he clears his throat and shifts his gaze away from you. “ang iyong ngiti ang pinakamagandang tanawin ng aking araw.”
your smile is the most beautiful sight of my day.
“what?” the word slips from your lips, barely a breath, a soft gasp that hangs in the air. it feels almost surreal and you wonder if you’ve misheard him.
each heartbeat thunders in your ears, a rhythm that matches the erratic flutter in your chest. why is he saying these things, what for in a different language…? there’s no way that he—
"—tulad mo na ang hinangad ko na ligawan, ngunit sa bawat ngiti mo, halip ay mas lalo akong nahulog para sayo."
—like you, who i wish to court, but with every smile, i instead found myself falling for you.
your breath hitches as your heart stumbles, the implications of his words washing over you like a wave. a rush of heat floods your cheeks, “what… did you say?”
his shoulders stiffen, and there’s a subtle tension in the way his fingers curl against the paper he’s holding. “see you tomorrow, [name],” he mutters, his voice low but hurried, and before you know it, he’s already walking away.
two strange things happened today:
1. you finally beat your sworn enemy!
2. said enemy… complimented you?
huh, it’s as if the words slipped out before he could catch them, as if he’s been holding them in for far too long, as if… you notice the way his neck reddens, even as he turns away.
behind the door, alhaitham lets out a quiet breath.
“gago… nagkamali ba ako?”
stupid… did i make a mistake?
to his dismay, an annoyingly familiar voice cuts through the silence. kaveh, who had been waiting just down the hall, notices him standing there, a little too still.
“oh, what do we have here?" there's a slight pause, followed by a raised eyebrow. "is that—no way, your face is red!” kaveh teases, amusement dancing in his eyes. “what happened there?" he leans in, clearly enjoying himself. "come on, spill the tea..!”
"not a chance," alhaitham retorts, rolling his eyes and crossing his arms defensively.
just then, kaveh spots cyno and tighnari; grinning, he waves them over. “what’s going on? did alhaitham finally crack under pressure?”
alhaitham would rather reorganise the entire library than listen to kaveh recount what happened.
“i’m leaving.”
"no, i'm afraid you're not getting out of this one.” cyno steps forward, blocking alhaitham’s path; and tighnari, who has been quietly observing till now, chimes in, “don’t leave us hanging.”
“you’re outnumbered.”
alhaitham sighs and shakes his head. he hadn’t even thought it was physically possible for him, of all people, to do something as ridiculous as blushing —until today.
(on the other side of the door, their banter echoes through, and you can’t help but chuckle to yourself at alhaitham’s misery.)
ACT V: PLAUSIBLE DENIABILITY, YOU SAY? BUT EVERYONE CALLS IT FLIRTING.
“i think alhaitham likes [name].”
the whole table falls silent before kaveh dramatically slams his glass down on the table, causing a splash of alcohol to spill over the edge. “oh finally, it’s so obvious! have you all seen the way he looks at them?”
across the table, tighnari taps his fingers absentmindedly on his notebook, his attention only half on kaveh’s (incoming) rant but clearly invested enough, as shown by the slight twitching of his ears, to be listening.
cyno snickers, “you’re telling me the man who can dissect any philosophical argument can’t handle a little crush? that’s rich.”
kaveh waves a hand dismissively. “come on! remember that time they were partnered up for a project? he was so... uncharacteristically patient! i’d almost say it’s cute if it weren’t alhaitham we’re talking about!”
right, it’d be almost endearing —if it weren’t coming from the most stoic, intimidatingly aloof guy in the entire school. it’d be adorable —if it weren’t alhaitham, who instinctively covers the corner of your table with his hand when you drop your pencil, ensuring you won’t hit your head as you bend down to retrieve it.
oh, you don’t notice (of course not). but your friend dehya, sitting nearby, catches the whole scene out of the corner of her eye. she raises an eyebrow, nudging the girl beside her.
(“candace, do you see that shit.” / “yeah.”)
“a soft spot for [name], you say? well, i’ve got a story of my own, too.” cyno glances around, ensuring no one else is within earshot, then lowers his voice conspiratorially. “have you noticed? he doesn’t wear his earphones when he’s around them.”
kaveh pipes up, nodding eagerly.
“he’s got those earphones practically glued to his head, he doesn’t hear anything he doesn’t want to, and he certainly doesn’t talk unless he’s forced to. but around them?” cyno pauses, pretending to think for a while. “not once. he’ll put them away entirely, like he’s actually willing to be… present.”
sure it’s small, subtle, the kind of habit no one would pick up on unless they were looking closely. but to anyone who knew alhaitham well, it tells them more than words ever could.
for him, actions speak louder than words, even if he often doesn’t realise the meaning behind his own gestures.
his earphones slide down, resting forgotten around his neck, all so he can be close enough to catch the delightful lilt of your laughter. his chair inches a fraction closer, seemingly by accident. a subtle upward twitch at the corner of his mouth, so fleeting and often passing so quickly if one weren’t paying attention.
for him, it’s a language without words.
dehya laughs softly. "for someone who supposedly ‘doesn’t like being bothered,’ he sure seems invested in whatever [name] has to say."
and what sealed their suspicions?
definitely the time when kaveh complimented nilou’s new bracelet. he glanced over at the man beside him, nudging him lightly. “what do you think?”
alhaitham gave the bracelet a cursory glance, before replying, “it’s nice.” though his gaze flickered back; and almost absently, he added after a pause, “[name] has the same one too.”
oh… oh? well that was oddly specific. kaveh’s eyebrow quirked as he fought to suppress a grin.
alhaitham had noticed a detail seemingly insignificant about [name] —the kind of thing he never cared to show the slightest interest in when it came to anyone else.
the glint in nilou’s eyes seemed to mirror kaveh’s unspoken thoughts, silently agreeing with his suspicions.
now they’re certain —100% sure, in fact —that alhaitham has a crush on you.
“well, speak of the devil… lovely seeing you here, alhaitham,” kaveh quips. tighnari, ever observant, gives him a pointed look. “your jacket’s missing.”
“someone took it,” alhaitham replies, his tone as composed as always, giving nothing away.
—nothing until you walked past. draped over your shoulders, unmistakable, is alhaitham’s jacket. you don’t notice the way every pair of eyes follows you, or the way kaveh barely stifles a triumphant laugh.
...make that 110%.
(translation: he means he borrowed his jacket because [name] was cold.)
ACT VI: IT’S YOU, WHO COMES TO MY RESCUE.
the quiet night hangs heavy, the road empty and bathed in the dim glow of distant streetlights. you weave through the streets, but no matter how many twists and turns you take, that weirdo just won’t leave you alone.
he’s been trailing behind you for blocks now, his persistence grating on your nerves, cornering you with endless “compliments” and invasive questions. you’ve tried to shake him off, but his determination far exceeds your patience.
"come on, just give me a chance," he insists, stepping closer, a little too close for comfort. you take a step back. the smell of alcohol reeks from his breath, and his grin is making your skin crawl.
"i told you, i’m not interested," you say firmly, keeping your voice steady, but the panic was starting to creep in. you glance at the empty bottle in his hand —he’s definitely drunk out his mind.
“you sure?" he completely ignores your clear discomfort. "how about you just give me your number, yeah?" he slurs out.
"no, i have a boyfriend." you lie through your teeth, hoping that would be enough to make him back off.
unfortunately, he’s as insufferable as he is persistent.
he snorts dismissively, "yeah, right. a boyfriend? you’re just playing hard to get."
you sigh, you aren’t in the mood for this, not here, not now, and especially not with someone like him. "i already told you, i have a boyfriend," your voice now tinged with frustration. "so please, just leave me alone.”
"oh, don't be like that," he steps in front of you, blocking your way. "prove it. call your boyfriend. show me you’re not lying."
your heart races as the man reaches out for you, dodging his hand, you take the chance to look behind him for an escape. just then, you see an all-too-familiar figure in the distance.
alhaitham.
you barely manage to suppress a relieved sigh as you wave frantically in his direction. he spots you almost immediately and without hesitation, he rushes over.
"what, this your boyfriend?" the guy sneers with derision, still sounding a little too cocky for someone who was about to get a reality check.
alhaitham steps beside you, you can feel his eyes on you for just a brief moment, the faintest flicker of worry flashing across his face. it’s subtle, almost imperceptible, but you catch it—and it makes your chest tighten.
his voice is low, unmistakably carrying a warning, "yes, i’m their boyfriend. and if you don’t want things to escalate, i suggest you leave."
the man’s face twists as anger flares in his bloodshot eyes. he takes a step forward, his grip tightening around the neck of the bottle, the glass slightly cracking. "you think you can tell me what to do?" he slurs, gaze wild and unfocused. “y-you think you’re some kind of saviour? *hic* a-and you! how… how dare you reject me?!”
alhaitham doesn’t move, his expression cold and unbothered, and that only seems to make the man angrier. his frustration boils over, and with a snarl, he clumsily swings the bottle in his hand, aggressively lurching towards your direction.
the world seems to slow for a moment. though before you can even react, alhaitham pulls you firmly behind him with one swift motion, his other arm instinctively rising to shield the both of you from the blow. the sound of glass meeting his forearm is sharp and jarring —you can hear the high-pitched tinkle of glass scattering, the jagged shards bouncing off the pavement, and some skittering across the ground.
but he doesn’t even flinch, his stance unwavering as the man stumbles back, glass crunching underfoot. you’re still frozen from shock, your heart racing in your chest as you watch the scene unfold.
“big mistake,” he starts, and the man visibly falters. “harassment, assault —keep this up, and you’ll regret every choice that brought you here tonight.”
the man shifts around, clearly disoriented. his eyes dart between you and alhaitham, but it’s clear that the fight’s already left him. “you— you can’t do this!” the man stammers, trying to regain some semblance of courage; unfortunately for him, the tremor in his voice is unmistakable.
“do you really want to find out?” alhaitham asks, to which the man shakes his head vigorously. “get lost,” he mutters. the man, looking more pathetic than threatening now, quickly stumbles away, mumbling incoherent curses under his breath.
you’re breathless, still clutching the edge of his jacket, fingers trembling slightly as the adrenaline courses through you.
"are you alright?"
you nod, forcing a small, unconvincing smile."yeah... i’m fine. thanks to you."
alhaitham’s eyes narrow slightly, scanning you for any sign of injury. you follow his gaze instinctively, glancing down at yourself. that’s when you notice it —not on you, but on him.
streaks of red stain his forearm, where jagged shards of glass must have cut him during the confrontation. the gash bleeds steadily, a dark line of blood seeping through the fabric of his jacket.
"wait," you breathe, your heart sinking. "you're bleeding."
your stomach twists with guilt.
"why didn’t you say anything?" you exclaim.
he shakes his head, a dismissive gesture that does nothing to ease the knot forming in your stomach. "it’s nothing," he says, but the slight furrow in his brow and the tension in his jaw betray his words.
"nothing?" you fix him with a hard glare. "idiot… you just blocked a glass bottle with your arm, don’t try to downplay this."
you grab his sleeve, tugging it gently but firmly, the fabric sliding beneath your fingers as you pull it up. “—and unless you think an infection is ‘nothing’, you’ll let me take care of this."
"hold still," you murmur as you settle beside him on the couch, your supplies spread across the coffee table in front of you.
the scent of antiseptic fills the air as you take a disinfectant wipe and gently dab it against the gash. the sting of the alcohol makes him flinch slightly, but he doesn’t pull away. you mutter a soft apology, your movements slow and deliberate as you try to be as gentle as you can.
you open a tube of ointment, squeezing a small amount onto your finger before smoothing it carefully along the edges of the cut. the cool gel glides over his skin, and you can feel the tension in his arm ease ever so slightly under your touch.
“nǐ zhème guān xīn wǒ, huì ràng wǒ wù huì de.”
if you care so much about me, i might misunderstand you.
your fingers pause briefly, the words catching you off guard. you glance up at him, but he only averts his gaze, his eyes remaining fixed on a distant spot beyond the room.
misunderstand? misunderstand what, exactly?
the bandage wraps securely around his arm as you smooth it into place. as you tuck the end of the bandage, his voice comes again, just as soft, but no less clear.
“—wù huì nǐ duì wǒ yǒu gǎn jué.”
"—misunderstand that you have feelings for me."
your brain short-circuits, and in your shock, your hands jerk. in turn, the bandage tightens way too much, causing him to wince and tense up. before you can apologise, he lets out a light chuckle.
“you don’t have to hide it. i like seeing your flustered expression, it’s quite cute.”
(oh this bastard!!!!)
you try to speak, but the words get stuck in your throat. what do you say when someone’s teasing you so openly —and they think you don’t even realise it?
after a long moment, he stands, “it’s getting late, i should get going.” alhaitham gives you a small, almost imperceptible nod, his eyes meeting yours for a brief moment —and there it was, that trace of softness reserved only for you.
he heads toward the door, you watch him, feeling a strange sense of emptiness when he turns away.
“i’ll see you,” he pauses. "...and thank you for tending to me."
you watch him leave, the door clicking softly behind him, and the silence settles back into the room.
you blink, taking a deep breath. what a rollercoaster of a day. yawning, you turn to start tidying up, but your eyes land on something on the couch.
it’s his jacket, draped over the armrest. you notice a tear on the sleeve, just where his injured forearm had been. what truly catches your attention, however, is a folded piece of paper slipping out of the pocket.
intrigued, you unfold it, revealing his neat, precise handwriting.
ACT VII: THE SECRET I’VE ALWAYS KNOWN.
To [Name],
I once believed you to be little more than a nuisance. A bright, well-meaning nuisance, no doubt, but a nuisance nonetheless. One who seemed intent only on striving for perfection, always seeking to best me at every turn, not out of malice but out of some earnest desire to prove your worth. In my arrogance, I mistook your relentless pursuit for a need for recognition, as if you sought my attention in some petty rivalry.
Though very quickly, you made me think otherwise.
You saw the world differently, you also saw me differently. You didn’t treat me with the reverence others seemed to, nor did you shy away from challenging me. You refused to be seen as anything other than yourself; and that, in itself, was what made me admire you —what made me long to understand you more.
Now, I find that I am standing with half a heart and an emptiness I never knew I could feel, because you showed me what it truly means to crave something more, something I never thought I deserved.
You may think I’m a coward for not expressing my feelings more directly, perhaps you are right. I am a coward for fearing to lay bare the vulnerability of my heart. But even in my cowardice, know that my thoughts have always been of you.
If you have seen through my silence and hesitation, if you understand my actions when my words fail me, then perhaps you have already known this truth. I care for you, more deeply than I can fully express. Though I may never be able to say these things as openly as I wish, I’d like you to know that my actions have always been my confession.
Even now, I’m still a coward for you.
So please, if you decide to give me a chance, I’ll be waiting at nightfall.
Helplessly,
Alhaitham.
you absentmindedly trace the edges of the letter with your fingers while your eyes skim over his writing for the nth time, the ink seeming to blur together with your thoughts as you try to process everything. your fingers curl around the fabric of his jacket, a foolish smile creeping onto your face.
tomorrow’s nightfall feels impossibly far away, yet you can’t wait for it.
alhaitham lays on his bed, his arm aches slightly from the injury, but it’s nothing he can’t ignore. plus, the bandage you had carefully wrapped around his arm is enough to keep the discomfort at bay.
(originally, he had only planned to meet you, slip you the note, and be on his way. things didn’t go exactly to plan, but either way, he hopes you’ve read it by now.)
of all the possibilities, he’s never accounted for the one he’d be at mercy of his own emotions; he had always prided himself on his rationality, his restraint. but now? he’s reckless, absurd, foolish even —he can admit that to himself. but he finds he doesn’t care in the slightest.
for as much as he is a coward in your presence, he is just as much a fool in your absence.
ACT VIII: UNDER THE RAIN, I HAVE SOMETHING TO SAY.
“alhaitham isn’t really an expressive person, so don’t worry if he comes off as distant or uninterested. it’s not that he doesn’t care, he just… shows it differently.”
ah well, ‘differently’ indeed.
“—most importantly, alhaitham doesn’t waste time on people he doesn’t care about, so you must mean a lot to him.”
maybe you didn’t mind how your heart raced when you heard that.
“don’t fuss over it [name], you’ll know when he’s in love.”
how so?
if he was in love, what would it look like? would you be able to tell, or would it be just another one of those things you had to catch on to?
you wrapped the his jacket tighter around yourself, a faint smile tugging at your lips. it wasn’t the answers to those questions that mattered, but asking them in the first place —that was what made you realize you already knew all along.
the evening air is cool against your skin; a gentle breeze stirs the trees, their leaves rustling quietly, and your heart beats louder than ever, urging you forward.
in the distance, you spot him, standing still in the dim light. and without a second thought, you quicken your pace.
“haitham.”
the sound of your voice catches his attention as he turns to face you; you can’t help but notice how his gaze flickers down for just a moment, his eyes taking in on how his jacket looks on you, before meeting yours.
his posture is unnervingly perfect, rigid almost to the point of stiffness …is he nervous?
“hey,” he finally says, clearing his throat. “there’s something i need to tell you… though you’ve probably already figured it out. you’ve always been sharp.”
“i… ” he falters, and it’s the first time you see him hesitate. “i’m not sure how to put it… since i’m not exactly great at this.”
you tilt your head, subtly urging him to continue.
“but you’ve managed to make me care about things i never thought i would. and now i can’t seem to stop thinking about it —about you.” his voice lowers, softer now, but there’s a rawness there that’s unmistakable.
“i’m telling you this now, because not saying it... doesn’t feel right anymore."
suddenly, you feel a soft mist that barely kisses your skin, a slight chill against your cheeks, then a few tiny drops, until they start to gather in your hair, the beads of water slipping down the back of your neck, but you don't move. neither does he.
his hair is damp, sticking to his forehead, droplets trailing down his temple. his clothes cling to his frame, soaked by the rain, yet his attention remains solely on you.
“[name], i am irrevocably in love with you.”
you stand there, the rain falling relentlessly around you, the pitter-patter mirroring the frantic beat of your heart. the water trails down his face, but it’s hard to tell if it’s just the rain, or something else.
his lips part, as though he wants to say more, but the words seem caught in the storm, swallowed up by the downpour. the rain is cold, but his gaze? his gaze feels impossibly warm.
it’s only when you feel the dampness of his jacket beneath your fingers, that the words finally come. “you don’t need to convince me of that.”
you take a step closer, and for a moment, the world outside seems to disappear.
“i’ve known,” you add. “but hearing you say it,” you pause, allowing yourself a small smile, “makes all the difference.”
reaching up, your fingers graze his damp skin as you gently push a wet strand of hair from his forehead, the warmth of your touch lingering against his cool skin.
“'uhibuk aydan, alhaitham.”
i love you too, alhaitham.
a single droplet slides down his cheek, tracing the line of his jaw before falling to the soaked fabric of his collar. another follows. and then another. his breath catches in his throat, and a shaky exhale leaves his mouth.
you wrap your arms around him, and he sinks into your embrace, his hair tickling your cheeks, as his chest rises and falls against yours.
“you’re gonna make me cry too, idiot,” you murmur, burying your face in his chest, your eyes glassy. “you really are a fool,” you tease softly, a slight smile playing on your lips. “but only for me.”
slowly, his hands rise, trembling slightly, until they cup your cheeks, gently stroking it.
“la yujad 'ahad akhar 'urid 'an 'akun 'ahmaq min 'ajlihi.”
there’s no one else i’d ever want to be a fool for.
his palms are surprisingly warm despite the weather. his thumb grazes your cheekbone as he leans in, and the world falls away —nothing but the warmth of his presence and the soft press of his lips against yours.
“this is my first time in ten years seeing this guy cry! can you believe it?!” kaveh whisper-shouts, peeking out from behind the shrub.
nodding along, cyno agrees, poking his head out just right below the blond’s. “[name] is truly exceptional. though i must say, seeing alhaitham cry is quite tear-rifying.”
kaveh rolls his eyes in exasperation. “ugh, you and your puns.” he mutters under his breath while zooming in on his phone, which is currently recording the whole scene.
“quiet down, you two!” a voice hisses from behind them —tighnari, face flushed with panic. “they’re literally right there, and you’re making more noise than a herd of goats.”
“relax, we’re out of their line of sight anyway!” kaveh raises his phone higher, almost giddily, eyes glued to the screen. “and damn this is a good angle.”
tighnari exhales sharply, “you’re incorrigible.”
“look who’s talking,” cyno raises an eyebrow at tighnari… who’s also peeking out from behind the bush. (what a hypocrite)
…
“they kissed oh my g—” kaveh’s voice rises in disbelief, but cyno quickly covers his mouth with a swift hand. the three of them scramble to duck behind the bush just as you turn to glance in their direction.
(“is that… senior kaveh?” you squint your eyes, “cyno, and tighnari?”
alhaitham clears his throat before glancing over at his friends with a deadpan expression. “yes and unfortunately, they’re very invested in my personal life. so please don’t mind them."
you laugh, finding the whole situation a bit too amusing. “not in the slightest, but i’m sure they’ll never let you hear the end of it.”)
EPILOGUE: IN EVERY LANGUAGE, I HEAR LOVE YOU.
“how long?”
you blink, feigning confusion. “how long what?”
alhaitham’s eyes narrow slightly, an expression you know well. “how long have you understood everything i’ve been saying?”
you bite back a smile and offer a small shrug, “...ever since you started?”
his lips press into a thin line, and for a moment, you can’t tell if he’s upset or impressed. then, he sighs, almost amused. “and you let me embarrass myself all this time?”
“you were being honest,” you shrug, a smirk forming. “plus i knew you’d figure it out eventually.”
he huffs a quiet laugh, shaking his head. “may ideya ka ba kung ano ginawa mo?"
do you have any idea what you’ve done?
"mas lalong umibig sakin?"
made you fall in love with me even more?
you tease, but there’s a tenderness in your voice that softens the edge of your words.
“yes, and you really are insufferable,” he mutters with no malice. his tone is different now. softer. warmer, even.
you lean in slightly, a playful glint in your eyes. “that’s not what i heard you say before.” your fingers graze the skin of his cheek before you tenderly pinch it, giggling softly at the reaction you provoked.
in one smooth motion, he catches your hand before you can pull away and tugs you towards him, closing the distance between you in a heartbeat. you tilt your head back to meet alhaitham’s gaze.
you’ve often thought he’s the most-perfect boyfriend, undeniably handsome in every way —but there’s really just one flaw: his height.
“ugh, you’re too tall," you grumble, rubbing the back of your neck. "i’m having a neck sore just looking at you."
he quirks an eyebrow at your sudden words. “you could use a stepstool.”
"or," you counter, "you could get on your knees and save me the trouble.”
he slowly lets out a breath, his lips curling ever so slightly.
“'akida, 'antaziri hataa 'ashtari alkhatama.”
sure, just wait till i buy the ring.
"wh—"
he crosses his arms, "what’s wrong? isn’t that what people expect when someone gets on their knees?"
you roll your eyes, half-smiling. "fine, then i’ll eagerly wait for that day.”
his gaze softens as his hand reaches up, brushing a stray lock of hair from your face; his eyes drop to your lips for a moment, and you know what’s coming even before he speaks.
this fic was not sponsored by duolingo, but with the help of my beloved friends!! wouldn't have been possible w/o em please give them a round of applause xx
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ty @mitsvriii for proofreading, love u all <3
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based loosely on this request <3 (and a few other asks)
"What's the deal with you and Riddle?"
Mattheo can only faintly hear Pansy's voice through your phone speaker, though it's muffled significantly through the dorm room door.
But your voice? Clear as day.
He does feel guilty listening in, especially since you probably have no idea how thin the door to your room is, but he can't help himself.
He leans his head closer to the door, his curls pressing against the wood, holding CDs in his arms.
"I really like him." You pause, he can picture you biting your lower lip the way you always do when you're thinking on how to word something, "He makes me feel special - like I matter."
"You do matter." He can faintly hear Pansy say, he's sure you smile, he agrees with what Pansy says.
"Thanks." You huff out a soft laugh, "Like, he really does listen when I talk and I never feel like I'm too much when I'm around him."
"I know I'm a lot to handle, but, I don't know," You continue, the end of your sentence dwindling off, he leans in closer to hear you, "He handles me, you know?"
"That's sweet," Pansy coos, "I never expected that from him."
You laugh again, he feels the corner of his lips twitch up.
"He is still, well, you know, him, though." He feels his heart sink.
"He makes me feel so special but he also makes me feel so, so stupid."
You're not stupid, he wants to tell you and it reminds him of what he said that day he kissed you.
"What do you mean?" Pansy asks.
"I feel stupid for wanting him - for thinking he wants me for real."
He does want you for real, do you still not know?
"Babe, you're still wondering if he wants you for real?" He has never been more thankful for Pansy, "He is down so horribly bad for you, everyone can see it."
Probably not how he would have worded it. Mattheo rolls his eyes at the statement, but can't deny its truth.
"I know but," You pause, "Sometimes I'm worried he's playing me."
"Wha-" You cut her off.
"No listen, I feel like maybe he's just with me for fun or 'wanting me' is just a phase that'll pass and he knows that and that's why he's not making it official." He heels his heart thud in his chest.
"That's why he won't say he loves me." You say, voice so much smaller that he has to lean in closer to the door, "I don't want to be with someone who doesn't love me."
"It's pathetic, I know."
Pansy, please tell her how wrong she is. Pansy, please tell her that I’ve never wanted anyone for so long. Pansy, please tell her that I've never been so close to being able to love someone before her.
"I guess I can see what you mean." Fuck.
"But, this is the most I've seen him care about anyone - let alone a girl." Pansy says, "Give him time, he'll come around."
You sigh.
"I will, I'm down horribly bad for him too, unfortunately." You sigh forlornly.
"He really does like you, you know."
Mattheo looks down at the CDs in his hands, the ones that he brought with you in mind.
The ones that always remind him of you. He planned to leave them in your dorm so he had an excuse to come around more, if only to listen to the love songs that had your name wrapped around each lyric.
"I know." He hears you say, he lets a breath.
You make him feel stupid, too. Because the way you could make him dive into the deep side of the Great Lake, if you only called his name, goes against everything he has been taught.
"I have to go, Pans. Mattheo will come around any minute." You say, "Love, love, love you."
"Love you!" Pansy hums back, he envies how easy it is for you two to say those words, like it's second nature and not a promise Mattheo has never been able to make before.
He hears the faint sound of your phone hitting your desk, he quickly turns on his heel. He paces the common room twenty minutes before returning to your door.
they’re both a little stupid, i think. but like! stupid in love <3
summary: james and sirius have shared everything - detention slips, cigarettes, secrets - but there’s one thing sirius hasn’t shared… until now. with you in the picture, maybe it’s finally time he shares you with james.
word count: 8k (and yes, all of it is smut)
warnings: threesome (m/m/f), oral sex (male and female receiving), spit play, cum play, choking, light gagging, praise kink, degradation kink, hair pulling, cream pie, blindfold, bondage. fingering, jealousy as foreplay, corruption, humiliation, possessive behavior, exhibitionism, unprotected sex, anal sex, cunnilingus, squirting, james is in love w reader, overstimulation, double penetration, reader being very into it, they fuck on a piano (?), consensual from all sides, some messy emotions between the smut.
This is a dream. This must be a dream. Otherwise, how could you explain it?
There’s no other way to explain it—how else could you make sense of being pressed between two boys whose names alone make people turn their heads, whose reputations precede them in every hallway at Hogwarts?
Sirius Black is on your left—your boyfriend, your beautiful, reckless mistake of a love—and James Potter is on your right, with those golden brown eyes and that effortless grin that always lingers a moment too long.
They’re dressed for the party, both of them in open-collared dress shirts, ties loosened, cloaks discarded somewhere on a dusty sofa in the abandoned Astronomy classroom Sirius had dragged you into after the Gryffindor common room had become too loud.
You’d barely had time to ask what he was doing before he kissed you, hard and fast, only to pull away and glance behind you.
That’s when you saw James, closing the door with one hand, his mouth parted in disbelief—or maybe awe.
Now, you’re caught between them in the dim candlelight. Sirius’s lips claim yours, hungry and territorial, while James trails soft, burning kisses down your neck, right where your pulse betrays you.
The thudding in your chest is deafening. The cool air of the castle seeps through the cracked window nearby, but your skin is flushed, feverish from the heat of their bodies.
Sirius still wears his signet ring, the same one he twisted nervously the first time he asked you out under the Quidditch stands. His all-black attire makes him look like sin wrapped in velvet, shadows and smirks.
James is the opposite—white button-down, sleeves rolled up, maroon tie hanging like a loose vow around his neck. He smells like firewhisky and something sweet, like the fruit punch he swears he didn’t spike.
You remember the party. You remember laughing with Lily, music pulsing through the common room, someone shouting about a drinking game.
But you don’t remember how you got here—back pressed to cold stone, breath stolen by Sirius’s kiss, hands fisting into James’s shirt as he groans softly against your collarbone.
Are you drunk?
You don’t feel drunk. You feel alive, aching, suspended in something you don’t quite understand. Your body moves like it remembers something your mind hasn’t caught up with yet—how it feels to be desired by both of them at once.
How easy it is to let go of reason when Sirius is biting down on your lip and James is whispering something sinful against your ear.
You’re the center of their attention. Of their hunger. Of their want.
Their beauty is almost unearthly, and some part of you—hazy and overwhelmed—thinks maybe they don’t belong to this world. Maybe they’re not boys at all, but something else entirely. Maybe they fell for you like stars crash through the sky—bright, brief, and destined to burn.
And now… now they’re burning you from the inside out.
Wicked, beautiful, untouchable. Except you’re the one they’re touching now. The one they want. The one Sirius called mine before he looked James in the eye and whispered, only if you’re gentle.
And Merlin help you, James said yes.
“Keep your voice down,” your boyfriend warns in his gentle, seductive husky voice. “You can do that for us, can’t you, love?” His teeth grind against the skin of your neck, tasting the scent of your perfume with his tongue while his best friend goes down to his knees before you.
A pair of warm hazel eyes, flecked with gold and honey, look up at you through a tousled mess of dark curls.
James, cheeks tinged with rose like the first bloom of spring, gazes up at you with a longing so deep it steals the breath from your lungs—years of affection, buried and burning, now surfacing all at once.
His fingertips trace your thigh with a reverence that borders on worship, each touch sparking heat beneath your skin.
“Sweetheart…” he murmurs, voice thick with awe, his lips brushing the inside of your thigh as he wraps one arm around your leg, grounding himself in the moment.
“My beautiful, beautiful girl…”
The words fall from him like prayer—soft, aching, and meant only for you.
You chew on your lip to refrain yourself from making sound, giving your boyfriend two tiny nods to his earlier question.
Sirius chuckles, his hand sliding down to cup one of your breasts over the fabric. Though your dress spills down to the floor in elegant waves, the high slit running along your thigh offers James easy access to you—something he takes full advantage of.
He kneels before you, eyes gleaming behind his glasses, and presses a trail of feather-light kisses along the length of your exposed leg.
“Merlin,” he breathes against your skin, voice low and reverent, “you’re so soft…”
His hand glides slowly up your thigh, fingers splayed, teasing, as if he's memorizing the feel of you—every inch, every breathless shiver under his touch.
before he settles his head between your thighs. “Your body is a dream. So beautiful…” His breath fans your skin, elevating the tiny hairs on your nape.
“You’re like an angel.” The pet name and the praises he gives you feel just as foreign as the way he touches you, but James is only eager to make you feel at home.
“An angel?” Sirius snickers, his lips grazing your earlobe, his fingers curling around your throat. “What kind of an angel, are you, Sweetheart? Wanting another man’s face between your legs when you already have your boyfriend satisfying you all night. What, one cock isn’t enough for you, baby? Want my best friend to fuck you too, is that it?”
You can’t answer, your thighs quivering when you feel James kissing you over your underwear.
You’re much more sensitive as you never fantasized to be in such a position with the boy you shared hours of conversations with about your favorite books and he spilled his Quidditch strategies to you.
James has always been attractive. You noticed that from the start—he was all charm and careless smiles, with eyes that lingered a little too long when he looked at you. It wasn’t exactly a secret, either.
Everyone knew he had it bad for you, and James was never subtle about it. But you never paid it much attention. Not because you didn’t see it, but because Sirius knew—and didn’t care. If anything, he liked it.
There was something twistedly satisfying to him about watching his best friend want the one thing only he could have.
You never thought of James that way before. He was always sweet, almost boyish—blushing at the idea of holding your hand. Innocent, in his own eager, golden-hearted way.
And yet now… now he’s on his knees in front of you, hands reverent, eyes dark with want. And there’s nothing innocent about him anymore.
“I’m gonna make you feel good, okay?” James says, professing the words like it’s a form of reassurance.
Your high heel slides down the floor when he separates his lips and presses his mouth hotly against the lace of your panties. You would’ve lost your balance if your boyfriend wasn’t there to catch you.
“Sensitive, are we?” Sirius croons, purring delightfully next to your ear as he moves to stand behind you.
“What is it, honey? Does it feel good?” You weakly nod, biting the corner of your lip to contain your whimper.
Sirius’s eyes glaze, his voice drops a pitch lower as he takes in your expression, loathing the fact that another man can make your face contort in pleasure. “He hasn’t even started yet.” He holds you close, his face hovering past your shoulder to lock gaze with the shorter male.
“Isn’t that right, James?”
James, keeping his eyes on you, hugs your legs close and does a little mm-hmm as he mouths against your clothed heat. You softly whine, leaning your weight on your boyfriend’s chest.
It’s funny how responsive you are right now, acting like this is the first time someone has performed oral sex on you when your boyfriend has done that almost every day since you started dating.
“Sirius…” you moan, your body flinching when you can feel the shape of James’s tongue gliding over the cloth. “What are we—What is happening?”
“We’re making your dreams come true,” he answers, his arm shifting down to grapple your leg. Lifting it high enough for your dress to slide to the side, Sirius exposes your thigh and your center at once.
“Show him, baby,” Sirius tells you. “Show him how fucking wet that pussy is.”
Your heart is hitched in your throat but you follow nonetheless. Reaching down, you push your panties to the side.
“Good,” your boyfriend says. “Now, spread them apart.” With your cheeks burning brightly, you bring your other hand down, spreading your lower lips apart until James can see your dripping cunt, your entrance twitching in anticipation.
“Take a good look, James,” Sirius utters, his tone conceited and cold. “This is what you want. Been thinking about fucking my girl behind my back for a while, haven’t you, Prongs?”
James has the hardest time tearing his gaze away from you, but he manages. Exchanging stares with your boyfriend, he solemnly utters, “I wouldn’t have done this if you didn’t give me permission to touch her.”
“That’s right,” he smiles pompously, shooting one hand down to join your fingers, putting you on display.
“This pretty cunt here belongs to me. You don’t get to taste it. You don’t get to fuck it unless I let you to. You’re only here because of me.” He dips his index finger deep inside your hole before he retrieves it and plunges it into your mouth.
You whimper around his finger, tasting your own slick. “You better take good care of her. Better make her cum and lick her clean. Do that, and maybe I’ll forgive you for this. After all…” Sirius turns his face to the side, the tip of his nose nudging against your cheek.
“I’m just here to please my girl. If she wants to be a fucking slut and have her holes stuffed with our cocks at the same time then I would gladly do it.”
Your boyfriend spreads your legs as wide as possible with one hand circling your waist protectively to keep you standing on your feet. “Go on,” Sirius urges, eyes gleaming dangerously as he peers down at the other man.
“You want to fuck my girl’s cunt with your tongue, don’t you? Do it before I change my mind.”
James breathes out heavily. His fear, desire, and overwhelming thrill add pretty colors to his pale face. Sirius tells you to keep your hands where they are.
James tentatively darts out his tongue, licking a stripe from your entrance to your clit, his nose bumping against your finger. He removes your hand, placing them on his head so you could guide him.
His moan reverberates to your skin when he feels you tightening your hold around his curly strands, leaving his hair all disheveled. Now that he has more room to reach, James eagerly latches his mouth against your folds, tongue flicking obscenely before his lips close around your clit.
Your body jerks. “Ah—mmph!”
Sirius slaps one hand over your mouth, stopping your voice from thundering down the hallway. “Shhh,” he titters, stuffing two of his fingers inside and pressing them flat against your tongue.
“You want people to catch us like this? I won’t mind if you ask me. I would love to fuck my girlfriend in front of everyone. Want them to see how good I am at making you cry out my name like a fucking little bitch you are.”
Moments like this make you realize that your boyfriend was never an angel. He’s been the devil, Lucifer himself, from day one.
James’s little grunts are muffled against your skin, his cerulean eyes turning hazy as he watches your expression twist in pleasure.
He sneaks one hand behind your leg, palm splayed against your calf before he guides you to rest your thigh on his shoulder.
You’re now lifted off the ground, trusting your bodyweight entirely on the two males to fight against gravity. “sweetheart…” He bestows a gentle kiss on your clit, pulling away slightly just to replace his mouth with two of his fingers.
Gliding them down over your folds, there’s a hint of curiosity and nervousness as he speaks his sentence. “Do I make you feel good?”
You’re not sure what to say. No, you’re not sure if you should speak at all as your boyfriend is right behind you. But Sirius removes his fingers from your mouth, your saliva dribbling down your chin as he frames your face and forces you to look down at James.
“He asked you a question.” Sirius’s voice is just as melodious as it is perilous. You sink your teeth on your bottom lip, too afraid to be honest. “It’s only polite to reply.”
“B-but–”
“Answer him.”
“Yes,” you vocalize in a tattered breath. “Yes, it feels good.”
You expect your boyfriend to be upset, maybe curling his fingers around your throat a little harder to remind you who owns you but Sirius chuckles, saying, “That’s my good girl,” as he grants you a soft kiss on your shoulder. “Now, relax, love. I want you to enjoy everything while it lasts.”
James, encouraged by your answer, dives down to taste you again, this time focusing more on abusing your already swollen clit. Your hand tugs harder against his roots as your hips start to move on your own.
“Aah, look at you,” Sirius says, drawing your earlobe between his teeth. “Riding his face like that… Just how much you’ve been thinking about this, hmm?” His hand slips under the garment of your dress, taking possession of your breast and squeezing it until your whole body jolts.
“Filthy whore,” he growls, teeth-gritting as he says it.
He’s angry. Even if he pretends he isn’t, there’s no denying it. He’s swallowed by the rage of seeing another man pleasuring his girlfriend right before his eyes but he doesn’t do anything to stop it.
He keeps holding one of your legs in the air, commanding him, “Fuck her with your tongue. If you can’t make her squirt, I won’t let you fuck her.”
James groans, the dazed look on his face morphs slightly into a glare, vexed by his words. He retracts his fingers, stretching your pussy’s lips as wide apart as possible, tongue darting out to tease your entrance before he plunges it inside your hole.
Your body lurches forward, eyebrows stitched together in pleasure. You have one hand clawing against your boyfriend’s shirt, your reaction fueling the jealousy raging in his chest but Sirius simply tilts up his chin, an arrogant smile breaking upon his lips.
“That’s the spirit, James,” he says, a moment before he sinks his teeth against the spot that connects your neck to your shoulder, rewarding you with the pain while James tortures you with pleasure. “Keep it up. I want to see her cum all over your face.”
James doesn’t have Sirius’s practiced touch—the kind born of years of experience and confidence—but what he lacks in finesse, he more than makes up for in sheer, devoted eagerness. There’s something dangerous in that kind of want. Desperate to please, desperate to unravel you.
And when he slides two fingers inside you, thrusting with an intensity that betrays how badly he’s imagined this, how long he’s wanted it—it takes no time at all before your body begins to tremble.
“Ah—Sirius…” you gasp, voice catching as your knees buckle beneath the weight of pleasure. Your hand shoots out blindly, grasping at Sirius’s arm like it’s the only thing anchoring you to the earth.
“I’m—I’m about to cum—James—“
Sirius grabs your face, smashing your mouths together and kissing you harder than he’s ever been before you can finish pronouncing the word.
“Don’t say his name,” he growls, squeezing your cheeks together with one hand as the knots inside your belly grow taut. “You either scream my name or nothing at all. Understand?” The sudden drop in his pitch makes your skin crawl in both fear and excitement.
You’re breathing hard, fogs clouding your thoughts as James drives you closer to the brink. “I—Sirius—”
“Answer me.”
“Yes,” you sob out. “Yes. Only you, Sirius.”
Satisfied, he kisses you again, whispering between the collision of your mouths, “Good. Now, cum, baby. Give him what he wants.”
Not two seconds later, you reach your high, your scream strangled in your throat as you give in to the blind pleasure. Your orgasm hits you so hard that you end up squirting.
James’s eyes shut close in reflex when your cum stains his face, a little bit of your juice dripping to the floor before he catches the rest of your essence in his mouth, lapping you clean and swallowing everything you give him as promised.
Sirius sneers, the tip of his nose brushes against your ear. “Squirting on another man’s face,” he titters mockingly, “I can’t believe it.”
James returns to his feet, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. His chin still glistens with your slick, your taste sitting thickly on his tongue.
He offers you his usual angelic smile, the adoration he holds for you never falter even if you’re his best friend's girl. “Let’s move somewhere else,” he says, his thumb sliding across your lips as he holds back the temptation to kiss you. “The party will be over soon. I don’t want anyone to see us like this.”
Sirius untangles his arm from your leg, letting you stand on your own. Your knees still wobble from the aftershock of your orgasm, leaving you with no choice but to have your body pressed flat against his chest.
Despite the terms he used to degrade you a moment ago, your boyfriend soothes you down with a little kiss on the side of your temple, his arm holding you still by your waist.
“You okay?” He asks, genuinely concerned.
Turning bashful, you respond with a timid smile and a weak, “Yeah, umm… I think I just pulled a muscle from the way you were holding me.”
Sirius laughs, landing a playful peck on your cheek. “Not as flexible as you were before, huh, grandma?”
“S-shut up.”
James watches with his jaw clenched, jealousy starting to gnaw at him just as much as the one that was blazing inside Sirius’s chest. “Come,” he says, pivoting on his heels and leading you down the hallway. “I know a place we can use.”
***
You’ve been in this room before.
It’s tucked away in one of Hogwarts’ forgotten towers—a space James had claimed long ago as his own. He called it his sanctuary. With its high, arched windows and shelves crammed with weathered spellbooks and Muggle novels alike, the room feels more like a secret study than a part of the castle.
The stone walls are softened by old rugs and scattered cushions, a few armchairs charmed to stay warm no matter the season.
At the center sits a white grand piano, slightly out of place in the magical chaos—its ivory surface gleaming in the candlelight, its lid closed, waiting.
You remember the last time you were here. It was his birthday. He’d snuck you away from the party in the common room, tugging you by the hand through secret passageways only he seemed to know.
You’d sat beside him on the piano bench, close enough to feel the warmth of him, and listened as his fingers danced across the keys. That was the night James declared his love for you, but you could’nt seem to be able to return it.
Because even then, with all that tenderness spilling from him, you couldn’t give it back. Your heart already belonged to someone else. And he knew it.
But that was then.
Right now, you’re lying down on the same piano, your dress thrown away haphazardly on the floor, your chest exposed and your legs opened wide with no fabric covering your skin.
It’s been an hour since you started this. You’re in a haze, your body enervated after your boyfriend gave you your second orgasm that day only by using his fingers.
The two handsome men now stand tall before you, their eyes still fixated on the way your bare chest is heaving up and down as you try to catch your breath.
Sirius had shed his formal robes long ago, trading them for something far more him—a loose black button-down, completely undone and hanging open over his bare chest, the fabric slipping off one shoulder like it had given up trying to contain him.
His white undershirt is nowhere to be seen, tossed somewhere across the room, and his sleeves are rolled carelessly to his elbows.
He smirks, eyes dark and wild as ever. “I hope you’re not tired yet, love. We’re just getting started.”
James, dressed in nothing left but a shirt and slacks, unfastens the three top buttons of his shirt with a little tremble in his fingertips. He’s visibly nervous at what your boyfriend has planned for the rest of the evening but he doesn’t file a word of protest.
The curly-haired boy still feels jittery even after he was holding you close from behind as your boyfriend fingered you until you drenched his fist with your juices. Sirius tells him to take off his robe and he follows, sliding it away from his collar.
“Let’s play a little game,” Sirius announces with mischief in his tone, walking to the other side of the piano where you have your head resting a few inches away from the edge.
His sensual, devilish smirk is the last thing you see before your boyfriend covers your eyes with his tie. He lifts your head, knotting the tie securely behind your skull.
“Sirius—”
He lowers his head to close the gap and kisses you upside down, silencing you at once. “Relax, love,” he coos, the shape of his smirk pressing against your lips.
“I’m gonna take care of you real nice, okay?”
Now that you’ve lost your vision, you rely heavily on your ears to figure out what’s going on. You can hear James’s footsteps closing in at the same time you feel Sirius moving away from you.
“Lift your hands, sweetheart,” his honeyed voice echoes near, a lot gentler than how your boyfriend spoke to you. “Don’t worry. I won’t hurt you.”
Trying not to tense so much, you raise your hands in the air. James wraps his tie around your wrist, careful not to hurt you, unlike your boyfriend who always loves to tie it hard enough so it will leave angry marks on your skin for him to marvel in the morning.
Once the fabric wraps around your wrists, binding you gently, James guides your arms down to rest across your stomach. His touch is patient, reverent—like he’s memorizing every inch of you with his hands alone.
He leans forward, fingers tilting your chin toward him, and kisses you upside down—mirroring the way Sirius had kissed you just moments earlier.
But James kisses differently. He kisses like you’re fragile, like pressing too hard might break you. There’s something achingly soft in the way his lips move against yours, careful and searching. You exhale quietly through your nose, letting yourself fall into the simplicity of it—just breath and warmth and the subtle hum of magic in the air.
Then you feel it—his tongue, timid and slow, tracing along the seam of your lips as if asking permission, tasting you like you’re something sacred. Your heart stutters in your chest, racing in time with his, even though the kiss is barely there.
Time feels suspended—like the world has curled in on itself, quiet and dreamlike—until—
“James.”
The boy stiffens, breaking off the kiss at the sound of your boyfriend’s voice rumbling through the air.
He raises his face, a muscle in his jaw twitches as he sees Sirius’s eyes turn dark and piercing. Both males are jealous of one another.
James wants you for himself, while Sirius, despite giving him his permission, grows even more resentful in sharing you with another man. The tension between the two is enough to smother you but fortunately, you’re too distraught by your own thoughts to notice.
What are they planning to do to me?
You take a deep breath, trying to unwind your muscles as best as you can as you wait. You can hear footsteps again, Sirius and James circling your body before they stop.
There’s a silence where you can hear nothing but your thundering heartbeats in your ears.
There’s a sound of belts being pulled away from their loops, zippers being tugged down. None of the men make a sound. When two pairs of lips begin their journeys from your ankles to your thighs, you realize one thing.
It’s a guessing game.
Sirius doesn’t have to tell you the rules for you to know how to play, or maybe this isn’t a game at all.
Maybe he just wants to fuck with your mind, injecting more thrill into your veins at the thought of being embraced by two males without knowing who’s doing what to you. But if this is a game, then you know how to win.
You’ve been dating your boyfriend for years. You know how rough he is–you love how rough he is–how sinful and obscene his touches are, how he clamps his mouth against your own or your clit—you’ve memorized everything.
Plus, Sirius and James are two different species. While Sirius is the fire that burns you with his passion, James is the salve that soothes you down. The devil and the angel are not the same. It’s easy to differentiate the two, even if you can see or hear a thing.
The two males have their heads settled between your legs, fighting for space and a chance to please you.
Each man is pinning one of your thighs on the piano, wanting to spread you apart as much as possible so they can taste how sweet you are.
You can tell almost immediately that it’s your boyfriend who is now latching his mouth on your clit, sucking hard enough until your hips buck forward.
The other man—James—takes his time kissing the sensitive skin on the inner part of your thigh, his hand stroking and kneading soothingly.
“Ah, Sirius—” You squirm, hands going down to his head, tugging on his bun.
Your boyfriend laughs, his voice dulled by your sensitive parts. “How can you tell it’s me?”
You always do that, doing as you please, overstimulating me. But you don’t voice your thoughts out loud. No, you can’t, as you feel James joining in, their tongues dart out eagerly to lap at your wetness at the same time.
You’re being pulled to the edge of the piano to make it easier for them to share space.
“Oh—” Your whole world shakes. The mental image of two pairs of eyes looking up at you with their desire blazing inside, hungry and lustful, occupies every part of your mind.
It’s too much. The sensation is too much.
“Relax, sweetheart,” James says, circling his tongue around your nub as your boyfriend lowers himself enough to plunge his slick muscle into your hole.
“Please, I’m—” You whine, your nails digging into your palms, “I’m about to cum—“
“Again?” Sirius jeers as his sinful smirk resurfaces. “Well, then, allow me.” Pushing James to the side, he pushes two of his fingers inside his mouth, making them wet before he drives them inside you at the same time. “You know what to do, baby,” he coos.
He wants you to squirt just like before and with the way he works his fingers, thrusting them in and out of you in a come-hither motion, he’s leaving you with no other choice.
As embarrassing as it is, you find your body doing exactly what he wants, cumming hard with a silent cry until the trickle of your juices drenches his hand all the way to his wrist.
Sirius retracts his fingers, licking each digit clean while his eyes traverse down your body. “That’s fucking hot,” he says, while James dives down to lick your pussy’s lips clean from every bit of your cum.
“You taste amazing,” James breathes out in bliss, kissing your clit and slowly eating you out to soothe you down from your crashing orgasm.
You’re all spent, eyes turning vacant as they’re transfixed on the ceiling but they don’t stop. One of them walks away to the other side of the piano, stopping once they stand on the other side of your head.
He hovers above your face, refraining himself from leaning in for another inverted kiss, afraid that the sweet taste of his mouth would reveal his identity too soon.
Instead, he frames your face, angling your head to the side so he can latch his mouth against the side of your neck. He uses his teeth almost instantly, suckling hard on your skin, marking angry bruises for everyone to see.
“Siri—”
He clasps his palm against your mouth before you can finish pronouncing his name, knowing that the game would be over once you guess it correctly.
He then slides two of his fingers inside, forcing you to part your lips wide so he can see the shape of your tongue as he presses his digits flat against your slick muscle.
Sirius thrusts his fingers inside and you know what he wants you to do. You suck on them, in the most obscene way possible as if you were treating them as something else.
Your boyfriend always loves to do this. Loves enjoying the look on your face when you hollow your cheeks around his fingers, giving him a vivid image of how pretty your lips are going to look when you wrap them around his cock later on.
You flinch when you feel the other man leaning half of his body forward over the piano, peppering soothing kisses on the inner part of your thighs just in the way James did a few moments ago.
His soft lips, the way he’s still a bit awkward and shy as he tries to please you, send goosebumps breaking all over your skin.
James can’t seem to get enough of your taste. Knowing that this could be his only chance at having you in such a position, he places his mouth on your center again, kissing you down there so languidly as if he had eternity to please you.
He hugs you close by your thighs, his nose pressing against your pelvis. You can’t hear his soft groan but you can feel its vibration directly on your clit.
You moan between sharp gasps when the man—Sirius—who’s standing over your head starts to clamp his hot mouth around your breast, rolling your nipple between his teeth before he sucks hard.
He grabs a hold of your mound, squeezing it hard enough to make you squirm then he flicks his tongue around the bud. The material of his shirt grazes your face when he pulls back, pushing down his pants to break himself free.
You’re being tugged forward, your head falling over the edge of the piano with the head of his cock pressing against your lips.
Your boyfriend doesn’t do anything. He wants you to do all the work. With your hands tied, you reach up and circle your fingers around his cock, kissing the head and tasting the salt of his pre-cum.
He’s hard, throbbing and twitching in your hands at the slightest touch. Exhaling sharply, you take his tip into your mouth, and Sirius, without warning, shoves everything inside at once.
You choke, groaning around his dick as he lands both palms on the piano to balance himself, trapping your body between them as he rocks his hips forward.
Your throat constricts around his length and he can see how far he goes from where he is looming tall above you.
James’s patience is starting to run thin as well. He starts using both hands, stuffing three of his fingers inside you while his other one abuses your clit with his thumb.
He pumps you hard and fast, perfectly imitating the way Sirius did to you a few minutes ago.
You mewl, moaning around Sirius’s cock, your legs sliding down until they fall onto the keys.
The sound of broken notes fills the air, startling you enough that you pull your mouth away from his cock, coughing and gasping frantically as you try to refill the air in your lungs.
James suddenly grabs you by the back of your knees, yanking you down until you’re close enough for him to seize you by the waist.
He hoists you away from the piano, forcing you to return to your feet and turning your body around. Your vision is pitch black, your hands still bound together, reaching out blindly for support until you find yourself balancing your weight on the keys.
James lowers his trousers to his mid-thighs, his cock springing free out of his briefs. Spitting onto his palm, he lathers himself quickly with his saliva before he nudges his tip against your entrance.
Despite his nervous, awkward demeanor, James is not taking it slow, propelling inside you with one hard thrust until your entire body is pushed forward, a strangled cry stuck in your throat.
He’s being uncharacteristically aggressive, stretching you out almost in the same way as your boyfriend does.
He bends himself down, wrapping his hand around the front of your throat and pulling you up until your back is plastered against his chest.
The butterflies inside you flutter their wings, a sob of pleasure threatening to break free. “James—”
“Wrong.”
Your heart plummets to your stomach, the fingers he has around your neck threaten to crush your windpipes.
“You’re breaking my heart, love,” Sirius chuckles right next to your ear. “How could you forget your boyfriend filling you up like this? I thought I’d fucked you hard enough for you to remember the shape of my cock.”
It’s Sirius? Your heart palpitates fast, panic rising to the surface. The one who was inside my mouth before was James?!
“You seem surprised,” your boyfriend laughs mockingly, ramming his hips against yours over and over again with his nails digging painfully into the flesh of your waist.
“You thought I was him, didn’t you? I treated you gently and you started thinking about another man. Can’t say I’m not hurt.”
“Ah—Siri—” You’re breathing fast, your cheek pressed against the closed lid as Sirius pinned you down to the piano by your nape.
Your stomach is bumping against the keys with each thrust, both of you making music of your own, accompanied by the sound of his pelvis slapping against your behind.
James watches you from the other side of the piano with his cock pulsating hard in his hand, his bottom lip caught between his teeth as he tries not to make noise.
It feels terrible, humiliating even, to pleasure himself as he watches you being taken hard by your boyfriend but he can’t restrain himself.
At the sound of your name escaping his lips in a breathy, longing moan, Sirius’s eyes dart to his face, the corner of his mouth twitching into an impish smirk at the sight of another man masturbating to his girlfriend being fucked. “There’s room for one more if you want to join, Potter,” he arrogantly says, “That is if you can’t stop yourself from cumming within seconds.”
The thought of you being watched by your best friend caused warmth to pool in your belly.
Taking off your blindfold with one hand, Sirius grabs a fistful of your hair, hauling you up until he can hug you close as he stands. He rests his chin on your shoulder, his long fingers framing your face.
He forces you to look at the man who’s fisting his dick in one hand, while his other one grips tightly against the edge of the piano.
He’s giving himself a string of pumps that matches the way Sirius is driving himself inside you.
“Y/N…” He sighs in yearning when your eyes meet, absolutely wrecked from how much effect you have on him, turning a shade redder than he already does. “You’re beautiful…”
“Yeah,” Sirius sneers, whispering in your ear, “My beautiful, beautiful slut.”
He penetrates you with aching shallowness between your legs, teasing you, moving with a rhythm like an inevitable sea tide.
You squeeze around him, keening as your body starts to crave more. “Fuck, taking my fucking dick so good,” your boyfriend hisses, drowning in rapture.
“Sirius, please…” You glue your thighs together, clenching your walls around him.
“What, honey, do you want more?” Sirius questions melodiously, even when he knows you want him to lose control. “Want me to give it to you harder? Or do you want James too? Maybe find out if he can fuck you as good as I can.”
He must have been fucking you so good that your brain turns all mushy because right now, you want to turn his teasing words into reality.
You’re not sure how you’re able to find the bravery within you to answer but your lips form the words before your mind can finish your thought. “Yes,” you whimper, and James almost moans at the sound. “Yes, please, I want him too—”
Sirius stops. For a moment, the smirk falters from his face, before— “Is that so?”
Siriu’s thrust turns forceful within an instant, pouring all his rage and jealousy in every plunge of his cock inside you. Your jaw turns slack, mouth wide open in a silent scream with your eyes rolling to the back of your head.
He’s fucking you to prove a point, one hand rubbing furiously against your clit, slapping and abusing it until you cry out.
Sirius keeps his gaze on James, his eyes glowing menacingly as he growls out the words, “You think he can fuck you like I do?” He pulls himself out without giving you a chance to answer.
Before you can groan at the loss of the delicious frictions he gave you, your boyfriend whirls you around until you’re face-to-face.
“He can’t,” Sirius says, squeezing your face with one hand.
“No one can fuck you like I do. This fucking cunt won’t be satisfied until I fill you up.” He emphasizes by slapping a hand over your heat, making you jump and whine at the pain before your whole body shakes at the way he’s pumping his fingers into you again. “I’m the only one who can please you this way, Y/N. You got that?”
“Yes,” you reply in a faint cry, getting lightheaded as if he’s blocking oxygen to your head.
“Yes, what?”
“Yes, Sirius.”
“Good.” He retracts his fingers, shoving them inside your mouth so you can taste yourself as he nudges his head, telling James to come close. “Let’s move to the couch. I want to fuck her mouth.”
Sirius sweeps off your feet, carrying you in his arms before he forces you to go on all fours on the couch.
He tells James, whose shirt is sliding off his shoulders and his pants hanging low on his hips, to get into position as your boyfriend moves to stand on his knees before you.
“Show me how much you love me,” your boyfriend purrs as he unfastens the tie around your wrists.
Obediently, you curl your fingers around his shaft and start your ministrations by giving him lazy strokes. Sirius threads his fingers through your hair, pushing back your hair as he thrusts himself into your mouth.
“Pretty girl,” he praises, watching you flick your tongue over his tip. “I love you so much. Can’t go on a day without you. Need you so fucking bad.” He hypnotizes you with his words, your insides melting as they resonate through your brain.
James, settling himself on your other end, bends down to spit onto your cunt, spreading his saliva all over your lips with two of his fingers before he does the same to his cock.
He prods his tip along your folds, breathing hard in anticipation with his tongue darting out to wet his lower lip.
You both groan at the sensation of his head passing your entrances just slightly the second you push your hips back. Fuck me, James can hear the unspoken words and he’s ready to oblige.
“Y/N” He paints soothing kisses along your spine, one hand splayed against your stomach. “I’m putting it in.”
Unlike Sirius, James moves slow, taking his time and waiting for you to adjust until he’s fully sheathed inside.
Though he’s an inch shorter than Sirius’s, he’s wider in girth, rubbing against your walls and stretching you out in a way that has you whimpering around your boyfriend’s cock.
You can hear James taking a sharp breath, and a low, “Fuck…” It’s the first he ever let expletives depart from his pretty mouth, his silvery voice turning guttural.
“Tight, isn’t she?” Sirius asks him, pride sitting thick on his voice.
“Y-yeah…” James rocks his hips once, feeling your walls tighten even more at the friction. “And so… hot inside too…”
You slide Sirius’s cock out of your mouth, taking a breath and a moment to relish in the sensation of having another man fucking you in front of your boyfriend but Sirius’s not having it.
He slaps his dick against the side of your face. “Who told you to stop?” He says.
“Pretty little whore wants to be filled in two holes at once, doesn’t she? Come on, baby.” You take him back—no, he shoves himself inside your mouth, making you gag around his length.
He buries himself to the hilt right at the same time James does the same. Tears start to prickle at the corner of your eyes.
“Ah,” James breathes out as he picks up his pace, giving you shallow, pointed thrusts that hit your spot just right. “Wish I could see your face… Wish I could see how pretty you look as you take me in…” He closes the spaces between his chest and your back, kissing you softly on the nape. “You feel like heaven to me.”
An idea submerges in Sirius’s mind. Telling James to pull out, Sirius flips you over to your back, his cock hovering above your face as you take him in one hand.
“There you go, Potter,” your boyfriend says.
“Now you can fuck my girl as you watch me fuck her mouth.”
James, now seeing you spread your legs for him, your pussy dripping and waiting for him to fill it up again, is on the verge of turning absolutely feral.
The juvenile, innocent side of him has disappeared — replaced by a man with his blood boiling with desire.
He pushes your legs forward, his hands gripping tight at the back of your thighs as he pushes back in — his cock standing hard enough that he can slide in without using his hands.
He folds your body in half, knocking you forward and robbing a moan from the back of your throat.
Gasping in surprise, you throw your face to the side, your filthy moans are spoken against the side of Sirius’s cock. You try your best to bring him back into your mouth, not wanting to upset him as you can see his rage flaring in his eyes.
“So good,” James grunts, his hips swaying obscenely. His shirt slides off his shoulders, stopping to pool around his elbows. “You’re perfect, so perfect, I love you—ah—”
At his confession, your walls flutter around him and you release Sirius from your mouth, shifting your gaze down to see James watching you with sentiment in his eyes, your stomach flipping in delight at the sight.
It’s true that he can’t fuck you as good as your boyfriend can, but at the moment James exudes more feelings, pulling more emotions out of you. It pleases you just the same in such a different way.
Sirius, unsettled by the chemistry between you, clamps one hand around James’s throat and yanks him forward until their lips collide above you.
Sirius kisses him forcefully, tongue thrusting inside, sloppily moving together inside James’s mouth until he has his drool dripping down his chin.
James thrusts begin to stutter as Sirius breaks his concentration, mewling helplessly against his mouth. James had never been kissed this hard, never felt like his oxygen was stolen right from his lungs.
When Sirius breaks away, a string of saliva connecting their lips, he tightens his fingers around James’s throat, making him wince from the pain.
“You get to fuck my girl,” Sirius growls. “But you don’t get to have her heart. It belongs to me. She belongs to me. Know your fucking place, Potter.”
“Sirius—” he chokes, one hand curling around Sirius’s wrist in an attempt to loosen his grip.
The brunette kisses him again, hard enough to turn James’s lips all swollen before he tells him, “Lie down.”
James, receiving a hard shove on his chest, falls on the couch, his limbs all tangled with yours as he’s pressed flat on his back.
Sirius lifts your body, grabbing you harshly by your hair as he forces you to lie down on top of James, your face hovering above his.
James gulps at the sudden proximity between you, shaky eyes peering into yours.
You look breathtaking with your lips all bruised and your lipstick smeared to your cheeks, your chin wet with saliva, and Sirius’s pre-cum.
You’re so beautiful and dirty at the same time, reek of purity and sensuality.
“Sit on his cock, baby,” Sirius says, and with wobbly legs, you position yourself on James’s length, sinking agonizingly slowly onto his dick until he’s buried deep, your clit grazing the trimmed hairs on his pelvis.
“Ah—mmm,” James turns into a moaning mess, his cock pulsating hard inside you. Your body is weak but you still find the strength to smile when he gently strokes your face.
“Feels good?” He questions which you reciprocate with a feeble nod, your eyes shifting to his lips and James gets the message.
You meet each other halfway, lips molding, slow dancing with one another. For a moment, serenity hugs you both, moaning softly against each other’s mouth with him whispering praises between kisses, “Sweet… You taste so sweet… I can kiss you for eternity and it won’t be enough…”
You’re about to move your hips when Sirius stands on his knees behind you, each hand on your ass cheeks, spreading them apart.
Your body jolts, almost accidentally biting on James’s tongue when you feel Sirius spitting harshly onto your hole.
Shock runs like electricity through your veins. “Wait—Sirius—”
“Relax, baby,” he says, closing his eyes as pushes his face forward, his tongue circling the rim of your hole, giving you the sensation you’ve never felt before in your life.
“Oh—God—” You cry out, both thrilled and a bit terrified from how strange it feels.
James, aroused by your expression, slightly bucks his hips upward, thrusting into you. “sweetheart…” he whispers, “Pay attention to me too…”
At the feeling of Sirius’s tongue probing against your hole, James’s hot, throbbing length rubbing against your walls, you can barely think about anything but you try your best to comply.
You lean down to kiss him again, your eyebrows furrowed as you feel James driving himself a little further inside you. You both muffle each other’s moans, soft lips hugging another pair in a way that can only be described as romantic.
Sirius glides one finger inside you, doing as gently as he can to not hurt you. Your body turns rigid in discomfort and your boyfriend calms you down by placing open-mouthed kisses on the skin that covers your tailbone.
“Love, relax,” he says, losing the venom that once coated his tongue. “I won’t hurt you. I promise I’ll make you feel good.”
“We’ll make you feel good,” James corrects, casting a smile too innocent to be thrown in this situation as he pushes a lock of your hair behind your ear. “We love you. All we’re trying to do is to please you.”
“That’s right,” Sirius chuckles, dipping his tongue inside your heat this time before he licks a stripe up and returns to your rear. “So be a good girl and relax for me, okay?”
You draw a deep breath. “Okay…”
James props one elbow on the couch, raising his body slightly so he can whisper in your ear, “Just focus on me. Focus on the way I’m sliding inside you. Can you feel it? Can you feel where we’re connected?”
You shakily nod, feeling his smile pressing against the contour of your jawline.
Now that you’re loose enough to take one finger inside, Sirius spits onto his hand again before he brings another one of his digits, scissoring you wide open. Every time you flinch, your boyfriend would reward you with another tender kiss on your skin. “I won’t rush,” Sirius assures you. “I’ll wait as long as you need until you’re ready.”
The sudden change of his attitude works perfectly on calming your nerves, and once your body relaxes, Sirius pushes his third fingers inside. “I think you can take me now, baby,” he says, rising tall on his knees. “I’ll take it slow, okay?”
James holds you close, shrouding you with his arms. “It’s okay, sweetheart, I’m here.” He kisses your ear, murmuring, “Just focus on me…”
Sirius pushes his length into your rear as slowly as he can, muttering a gravelly, “Fuck, you’re even tighter this way,” under his breath.
“Ah,” you whimper, fingers clenching into fists. “Sirius, I can’t… It’s too much…”
“You can, baby,” Sirius replies in a guttural moan, leaning forward to mouth his words against your nape. “Just a little bit more–ah, Christ–”
“Siri–”
“I know,” he swallows his breath. “I swear I’ll make you feel so good after this, baby.”
The friction burns to the point that you almost feel like giving up but Sirius is trying his best to be gentle. James kisses you to swallow your groan, distracting you from the pain.
It takes another few seconds before Sirius is fully enveloped by your warmth, just like James is and he chuckles, rewarding you by showering kisses down your back. “You’re doing so well, pretty girl. I’m so proud of you.”
Having two men inside you at the same time is something you wouldn’t even have the bravery to imagine and yet here you are.
“I’ll start to move, okay?” Sirius says after giving you a moment to catch your breath, and you spin your head to the side to slant your lips together with him.
“Okay…” you breathe out. Your boyfriend rewards you with a smile and one last kiss on your bare shoulder before he straightens his back, places his hands on each side of your hips, and begins to move.
“Ah—fuck—” You can feel tears stinging your eyes, from pain or pleasure, you’re not sure, probably both.
With every drive of Sirius’s hips, you’re sinking lower onto James’s cock, the three of you grinding against one another — it’s awkward for the first few seconds, each of you trying to match your rhythm but once you find it, waves of pleasure start to come crashing in.
“How do you feel?” Sirius asks, uncharacteristically solemn as he’s worried of your well-being. “Does it hurt?”
“N-no.”
“Does it feel good?” James chimes in, peering into your eyes.
“Yes,” you exhale in bliss. “I feel so… full.”
Sirius smiles, exhaling in relief. “Well then, how about we take it up a notch?” He adds more force into his thrust, sending you toppling down with your head landing on James’s chest.
James can feel it too, the snap of his hips and the way your walls are hugging him tightly. Sirius is in control, leaving both of you under his mercy.
“How is it, baby?” Your boyfriend speaks between his labored breathing. “Feels good?”
“Yes,” you answer breathlessly, clawing against James’s chest as you feel like you’re trapped between heaven and earth. James’s thick hardness opens you up while Sirius’s penetrates deep inside your body.
“Wanna fuck you harder,” your boyfriend says once he feels your muscles unwinding, your tight hole finally adjusting to his size. “Wanna fuck you so hard until I cum, baby, can I?”
“Me too.” James takes one of your breasts in his hand, tongue circling your nipple. “I want it, sweetheart.” He mouths against your skin. “Want to feel you clench harder around me.”
You bite the corner of your lip, nodding your head as your heart rate escalates fast. “Ah—mmm, yeah.”
With your permission, both men hastily pick up the pace, robbing a scream from the back of your throat when James lifts his hips at the same time Sirius pushes forward.
You feel like floating — it’s insane how your body can still handle this instead of breaking apart. Sirius penetrates deep but James grazes the spot that makes your vision turn white.
Gasping in surprise, you blurt out his name. “Ah, James—”
Sirius’s hand slithers from behind, clasping firmly against your mouth. “I’ve told you,” he snarls, “You either scream my name or nothing at all. Don’t piss me off.”
Sirius never hurts you, he would rather die than lay a finger on you but at that time, anger radiates off of him in a way that sends fear crawling on your skin. You nod your head, eyes wide open in shock, “I’m… I’m sorry.”
“Now what do you say?”
“I want you, Sirius.”
“Want me to do what?”
“Want you to fuck–ah–want you to fuck me–”
“Scream for me, baby.” Sirius turns to hard, pitiless thrusts, grabbing one of your hands and pinning it against your back.
He snaps his hips, once, twice, emphasizing his next words. “Scream. my. fucking. name.”
He’s forcing it out of you, making you cry out his name in such a pathetic way, you turn the other man jealous.
James, now wanting nothing more but to get your attention and reach his high, starts to abandon his effort in being docile. “I want you to look at me,” he begs, rutting his hips harder against yours. “I want you to look at me as I cum—”
“Cum inside her and I’ll kill you,” Sirius growls, his nails digging painfully into your hips.
“But—ah!” James throws his head back, feeling like he’s already on his limit. “I can’t—I can’t hold it—”
Sirius breaks away, wrapping an arm around your stomach and yanking you close to his chest until James has no choice but to slide out of you. “On your knees,” Sirius orders him. “You can cum in her mouth.”
It wouldn’t feel as delightful nor as satisfying compared to shooting his seeds inside your walls, but James — knowing his position — takes what he can get.
You return to your hands and knees as James stands before you, the tip of his cock, coated with your slick, hanging a few centimeters away from you.
Sirius pushes himself inside your pussy this time, sending your body forward right at the same time you’re taking James into your mouth.
He fucks you fast, knowing that he doesn’t have to be gentle this way. James winces at the vibration your mouth gives him, his hips slowly moving on their own.
He lands one hand on your hair, stroking your strands first and tugging at the roots when you moan harder around him at the feeling of Sirius pulling out only to slide his dick inside your ass.
“Goddamn, I love this,” Sirius rasps, giving one thrust inside your hole, and another one in your cunt next. “Both your ass and your pussy feel so good. So fucking tight. All for me.”
Your face is burning, your heart soaring high, and you’ve been standing on the edge for so long, your body can’t keep up with this any longer. Stroking James’s cock in one hand, you plead, “Fuck, Sirius, don’t play around—I—I need to cum.”
“Yeah?” He chuckles, still constantly changing from one hole to another. “You want it, baby? Tell James who’s making you feel good right now.”
You chew on your lip, your hazy eyes drifting up to meet his azure ones. James’s face is set in resigned sad lines, his heart breaks in his eyes when you say, “Y-you, Sirius!”
Sensing the hesitation in your voice, Sirius fills the dip of your spine with his chest, his hand sneaking to your throat before his fingers frame your jaw, forcing you to whirl your head around to face him as he hovers right above your shoulder.
“I can’t hear you,” he says, “Who fucks you the best?”
You put more pressure on your words. “You, Sirius.”
Sirius fixates his gaze on James’s face, smirking both contemptuously and arrogantly. “Louder, Sweetheart.”
“You, Sirius!”
Keeping his eyes on the other male’s face, he croons, “Well, I guess I have to live up to my name then.”
Sirius moves back and forth, burying himself so deep in your cunt that you can feel his tip kissing your cervix.
He’s urging you on to your ecstasy, giving you a glimpse of what heaven feels like, by brushing his fingers over your sensitive clit and then presses, over and over again, teasing and taking as he claims your everything.
James flinches when your grip around him gets a little too tight, your orgasm approaching fast that you forget to pay attention to the man kneeling before you.
“Fuck my mouth,” you tell him, as you have no strength to spoil him any longer. With your hands balancing yourself on the couch, you relax your jaw and let him push in as much as he wants into your mouth.
A sudden snap of Sirius’s hips makes you moan louder and James gasps, the muscles in his abs tautening as he’s drawing closer to his climax. “Ah, —I’m gonna cum—“
“What about you, love?” Sirius’s breathing turns labored. “Gonna cum too? Gonna cum hard on my cock while he cums in your mouth?” He lands his palm on your head, shoving you harder onto James’s cock.
“Do it then, you filthy whore.”
James moans loudly, his blush spreading to his ears. “G-God,” he nearly whimpers as he hits the back of your throat. “sweetheart–”
Within seconds, the waves of pleasure inside you crest higher and at last, your orgasm crashes over you, stealing your breath and sending the roar and rush of blood ringing in your ears.
You have no choice but to pull away from James and thankfully, he lets you even when he was so close to achieving his ecstasy.
“Ah, I can feel it,” Sirius chuckles, his hips moving erratically as he’s nearing his brink. “Squeezing around me like that. Been my girl for so long and you still have the best fucking cunt in the world, baby.” He keeps moving his hips, overstimulating you until you let out a spurt, drenching the leather material of the couch with your juices.
“Wait, Sirius—” You sob out, your thighs trembling. “I’m still—”
“I know, baby, just give me a few seconds more,” Sirius says, panting hard, losing his rhythm. This aural evidence of his impending orgasm triggers another for you—smaller, but no less intense.
“Gonna fucking cum—I’m gonna—ah, fuck—” You can feel it exactly the moment he hits his orgasm, giving a forceful thrust one last time before he slows down, a drawled-out moan fleeting from his lips.
He still rocks his hips, fucking his seeds back into your hole, his head thrown back as he relishes in the sensation.
Dazed and wrecked, you watch James going down to his knees before you, one hand stroking his shaft while his other one finds your face, pulling you into a kiss.
He lays his temple against yours as he closes his eyes, nibbling on his lower lip as he pumps himself faster.
Seeing how rough Sirius fucked you earlier sends his blood pumping and James needs his release. “Touch me, please…”
Sirius, hearing his words, untangles his fingers from your hair. He pushes you down by the nape until your closed lips are pressed against the head of James’s cock, his pre-cum staining your mouth.
“Take care of him, baby,” your boyfriend says and in your haze, you separate your mouth, taking him in as much as you can. James groans, your mouth feels scorching hot and wet compared to his cold hands.
“Mmh—” you moan around him, giving James the final touch that he needs to send himself to cloud nine. James ejaculates inside your mouth with his lips — his hand lands on your shoulder, conflicted between pushing you away so he won’t stain you with his essence more than he already does, or keeping you still so you can swallow everything down your throat.
None of you are given any chance, however, as your boyfriend says, “Keep it in your mouth.”
Sirius pulls you up, your back flush against his chest as his face hovers above you, staring at you upside down.
“Open up,” he commands and you do, parting your lips to let him take a glimpse of James’s thick, white semen pooling inside your mouth.
Sirius smirks. “He came a lot, didn’t he?” Before you’re given a chance to respond, your boyfriend spits into your mouth, his hand pressing against the underside of your jaw. “Now, swallow.”
James watches the scene with his jaw hanging slack, unable to believe that this is the reality he’s seeing. He watches you share another inverted kiss with your boyfriend, with Sirius moaning against your mouth as he tastes the rest of James’s cum on your tongue.
James finally snaps out of the haze—though just barely—after watching you kiss Sirius like your life depends on it. His eyes are still glazed over with lust, lips parted, chest rising and falling a little too fast. He looks like he’s forgotten where he is—forgotten everything except you.
Then Sirius leans in close, lips brushing the shell of your ear. His voice is dark silk. “What do you say, baby? To Potter?”
You turn your head slowly, gaze locking onto James’s. There’s no teasing in his expression now—just raw want, wide and open. He’s still watching you like he can’t believe you’re real.
Your voice is soft, shaky. “Thank you, James.”
A slow, crooked smile pulls at his mouth. “Anytime, sweetheart.”
Satisfied, Sirius peels himself away from you and strides toward James, the tension between them simmering just beneath the surface. The space narrows until it vanishes altogether—Sirius grabs James by the throat, rough but controlled, and drags him forward.
It’s James who breaks first—slamming his lips into Sirius’s like he’s been waiting years for this. The kiss is wild and urgent, all teeth and tongues and barely restrained need.
You feel the heat rise again in your chest, between your legs, just watching them.
When they finally part, their lips are swollen, breaths ragged. James leans in close, voice low and reverent, and whispers against Sirius’s mouth:
“Thank you for sharing your girl, Black.”
-
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a/n: shit, that was filthy. also, if you know me, no you don't!
summary: On September 1st, 1971 you were sorted into Slytherin, putting you on the map as the first Potter to do so, and the first time James Potter turned his back on someone he claimed he loved dearly. You’re slowly drifting away, turning the Potter twins into a sad tale, but after one deadly incident close to Christmas break, James decides to put an end to the distance he unknowingly created.
How can you say that you love someone you can’t tell is dying?
cw: suicidal ideation, but hinted. scars and blood mention, nosebleed. angst, very heavy on the angst. potter!reader, fem!reader. platonic marauders and rosier twins. background jily.
a/n: sorry if this too much… just had this idea for a while and i needed an outlet. likes and reblogs are greatly appreciated. enjoy! xx
···
You sighed, the bandage around your shoulder suffocating you to the point of tears. As much as you tried, you wanted to keep your compartment warm and toasty with the blanket over your seat and legs, but your efforts were in vain at the mere lack of human heat. The fogged window seemed an acceptable distraction as you dragged your finger around, drawing meaningless doodles as the train passed by beautiful landscapes you barely registered.
Something shifted on your other side, and you turned to find people walking past your compartment, pointing and whispering about you and your sad state. None of them dared to open the door, making the lump in your throat grow with each breath you took. You looked down at the cassette player in your lap, hands too shaky to change the cassette into something more cheerful.
In time, you looked up to find a pair of brown eyes staring at you with both curiosity and pity, you frowned, desperately wishing your brother’s friends would stop pestering you. Their mere presence was a bitter reminder of your brother's abandonment, the pain you suffered seeing them fill your place, share laughter together like you both did many years ago. You looked away, luckily for you, Remus got the signal and made to move past the compartment; but to Remus’ ill luck, James followed his gaze and opened the door.
“Mum said Dad won’t be able to come, but will be waiting for us at the Manor.” He murmured, his eyes pointedly trying to not stare too hard at the bandages peeking through your jumper. You nodded. “She will meet us at the station.”
“Okay,” You said, not moving to take your headphones off, nor to look at him to meet his gaze. You feared you would cry if you looked at him, a reminder of the despair in his eyes when they brought you into the infirmary. “I knew that, you know we still write to each other, right?”
James nodded quickly, swallowing hard at your voice devoid of emotion. “Yeah, just… Just wanted to make sure,” He paused, quickly stepping in to fully enter and close the door behind him. You finally turned your head to him with surprise. “You alright?”
You scoffed, finally taking your headphones off your ears, “What do you think, James?” This time, he has no qualms about studying you completely, eyes skimming over your poor posture as a result of the accident. You couldn’t help rolling your eyes, your blood boiled as you spat. “Yes, I’m fine. Will that be all, or…?”
James closed his mouth and schooled his face, something desperately needing to be said. You bit your lip, your insides filling with regret but having no intention of backing away from the incoming disagreement. Something in you stirred with hope, hope that he would finally give you your place and sit with you. However, the bespectacled boy simply nodded and left the compartment.
You let out a breath, disbelief and disappointment in your heart as you placed the headphones back in your head. A tear slowly rolled down your cheek and you quickly cleaned it, your shaky hand almost poking your eye as you desperately tried to swallow the possible panic attack you felt looming over you. The countless letters addressed to you from your mother heavy on your satchel, most of them asking you to fix your relationship with James, the other begging you to take care of yourself, you weren’t sure which ones hurt the most.
The moment the word Sectumsempra left Snape’s mouth, a curse filled with magic so dark not even the boy could understand it, you almost felt bad for the relief you felt in your chest at the pain that took over your body. That morning still felt like a far away memory, a dream that shook you up so much you still recalled after you woke up; McGonagall’s surprised gasp and the students that were unfortunate enough to witness the moment your fellow housemate almost made you cut into pieces. You were brought up in a rush to the infirmary where your brother and his friends recovered from a rather violent full moon, James had almost passed out at the pure rage he felt when he was informed of the situation. You weren’t proud to admit that your brother being angry on your behalf was a nice memory to die with, a redemption that came almost too late.
You weren’t even prouder to admit to the sinking feeling in your chest when you woke up to find nothing had changed, the only remains that someone still cared about you in the form of Madam Pomfrey’s gentle touches. James hadn’t stayed back to check on you, and you couldn’t blame him. To that day, you couldn’t fully stare at your reflection in the mirror without your eyes filling with tears, had it not been for Pandora, promoted to friend as of lately, you wouldn’t have been able to even put the healing potions in your scars.
Just in time, three knocks came at the door, you turned, ready to yell at your brother or his friends to fuck off, but Pandora’s gentle smile made you pause. She pointed at the seat across from you, cold and empty, and you nodded dumbly. She stepped in, arms filled with sweets from the trolley and smiled at you as she made herself comfortable in the seat.
“Hi, how are you feeling?”
Why is everyone asking me that?, you thought bitterly. Immediately feeling regretful when Pandora presented you with a Chocolate Frog.
“I’m okay,” you murmured, shyly taking the sweet from her hand. She had a different color in each of her nails, you noted. “Thank you.”
Her platinum white locks fell to her shoulder as she sat back, her own Chocolate Frog in her hand. She smiled at you and picked her book, and you wanted to cry tears of happiness. Comfortable silences were Pandora’s main form of love language, you quickly learned, and you were eternally grateful for the company. You weren’t sure if you had it in you to put up with your self hatred for another moment, let alone the rest of the train ride.
You looked up from your cassette case, eyes lingering a beat too long on the compartment door.
“He’s two compartments over,” She said breezily, noticing the hesitance in your movements. “I passed them on my way here, he seems gutted.”
“Oh, please,” You made a scoffing sound, your shaky hand struggling to take a new cassette off its box. “He just feels bad for me, but he’s going to do absolutely nothing about it.” You poked your cheek with your tongue, satisfied when you finally got the cassette out.
“Have you thought that maybe,” Pandora started to say, fully closing her book now that she had your undivided attention, “maybe… he thinks it’s too late? You have been a bit too cold to him…”
“It’s the least he deserves,” You spat, then cleared your throat. If Pandora felt offended at your anger, she didn’t show, she never did. You looked back to the window, feeling the train had noticeably slowed down. “I just… I’m so tired of waiting for him, I don’t… I don’t know how to feel, I so badly wanted him to get close but now that he’s trying I don’t…” To your utter horror, you felt tears prickling in the corners of your eyes. “I’m so confused.”
Pandora’s lips curled in an empathetic smile, she reached and held your shaky hand, gently sweeping her thumb across your knuckles, you took a deep breath, trying to collect yourself as students began to empty the train.
“I’m sorry,” You dared to meet her heterochromic eyes.
She shook her head, chuckling quietly. “No need to be sorry, keeping those feelings bottled up must be so tiring, I’m sure.” You laughed weakly, and used your free hand to discretely clean your cheeks. “You might’ve accepted your loneliness a long time ago, but that doesn’t mean it has to be permanent, sweet girl. Evan would agree, though he’s more shy to actually say it. You got more people in your corner than you realize, only if you let them…” She turned to the door, and you followed her gaze where you found James and Sirius walking past with a troubling look in their eyes. Pandora stood up, “You need help with your trunk?”
You opened your mouth, but were interrupted by the door opening. “Ready to go?” Sirius asked, and you frowned.
“I can carry it, thank you.” You smiled at Pandora, pointedly ignoring his question. She nodded, and reached to give you a quick hug, gentle and careful to not hurt you. “I’ll see you next term.”
“Write me?” She smiled, passing you a small box and you nodded, eyes in a daze as you tried to read the note. She walked to the door, and smiled at both boys. “Happy christmas.”
You watched her go, shaky hand still holding the box. James frowned, and studied you for a few more seconds before Sirius, who wanted to leave the station immediately before his parents would show up to drag him and Regulus away, cleared his throat rather loudly.
“Are you ready to go?” He repeated, making a move to take your trunk but you swiftly picked it up. Your features a mix of anger and, if he had more time to look at you, he would also find pain. “Don’t be stubborn, I can take that.”
“I can take my own trunk, Sirius. But thank you.” You spat, then turned away from both boys. “I’ll meet you in the platform in a moment, let me just put everything away.” You pointed to your little cocoon, the blanket and cassette player tossed aside in your previously vacated seat. “Just remember to—”
“To not tell Mum anything,” Finished James for you, an edge to his voice. “We know.”
You nodded, fear settling in your chest at the prospect of your brother picking up the argument you had nights before. Him begging you to tell your parents about what happened with Snape, to prepare them for your almost deadly state, but you met him head on, not willing to back down until he dropped the matter. He had walked away mid argument, his friends staring at you both with something akin to sadness, watching the distance grow impossibly longer despite James’ recent efforts to fix it. You had cried that night in Pandora’s arms as she and her brother watched you with both sadness and regret, you, for your part, seemed blind to the fact that they had been the reason James had breached that subject with you.
The bespectacled boy nodded, and stepped out of the compartment with Sirius close behind. You took the cassette player and put the headphones back on, Billy Joel’s Piano Man a fitting soundtrack to the way you felt. You took your satchel and hurriedly put the messily folded blanket inside, made an assesment of the compartment to not leave anything behind and silently walked out of the compartment towards the platform.
You watched with a sinking feeling as your mother enthusiastically greeted James, grabbing him by his cheeks and showering him with kisses, Sirius and the rest of his friends in line to receive the same treatment. He says, Bill, I believe this is killing me, Billy Joel sang in your ears and you readily agreed, walking towards the bunch with a tiny smile and your insides filled with dread.
Euphemia Potter’s bright smile dimmed when she met your eyes, and noted the sadness that, evident to everyone but you, radiated off your body as you placed your headphones around your neck. She opened her mouth to speak but nothing came out, your brother and his friends watching the exchange nervously, as she practically balanced herself over you in a tight hug.
“My lovely girl,” You were horrified to almost hear her voice breaking, the least you wanted was your mother to worry for you. “How I missed you, oh, look at you.”
“Hi, mum…” You muttered, bitting your lip as she accidentally squeezed precisely around your middle, where your most painful scar was located. “Missed you too, Dad too, of course.” You patted her back awkwardly and she pulled back.
“You’re so small, oh, my girl, please be honest with me,” She grabbed your cheeks the same way she did to James, and you successfully swallowed the lump in your throat. “Have you been eating properly? I knew that veganism nonsense simply wouldn’t do.”
Her eyes studied you much like James did earlier, and you bit your lip nervously. You knew what was coming, and you wanted to take off and disappear from her searching eyes.
“I’m actually quite hungry…” You said quietly, hoping it would be enough to distract her.
Your mother, however, couldn’t be deterred. “What happened here?”
Unconsciously, you met James’ eyes. “Quiddtich accident.” You replied quickly, the lie easily slipping past your lips. “Fell off my broom, doesn’t hurt, though. I’m okay.”
“Quidditch!” She exclaimed, chuckling as she turned to James who smiled in return to avoid giving you away. “Honestly, what is it with my children and Quidditch? Can’t wait to see your dad’s face— Speaking of! He must be driving himself mad waiting for us! Come, come! Dear, you need help with your trunk?”
“I’m okay—” You replied and she quickly turned to shepherd everyone out of the plaform.
“Here,” Remus walked to you, taking the handle from your shaky hand, hard to notice to the blind eye, but he knew better, he was familiar. You frowned, and he made his voice extra quiet as he spoke, “I know you can manage but you’re going to make them worse, and by the time we get to the manor everyone will notice. It’s no problem, really.”
You stared at him, then at James who pretended to listen as Sirius and your mother fussed over Regulus, who would join you for the first time for the holidays. He gave you a tight-lipped smile and you forced yourself to look back at Remus, he smiled kindly as you nodded mutely and trailed behind the group. A comfortable silence falling between you both.
—
Potter manor seemed to stay stuck in time, with its beautiful pillars and big stained glass windows letting in colorful rays of sunshine when the english countryside allowed it. You looked through the window at your mother’s lovely garden she devoted herself to during springtime, surely to kill time when your dad was busy at work and her children away at school, her caring nature evident in the way all the flowers grew beautifully, despite the current cold weather. You sighed, and walked away ready to face your hideous fate, your secret stash of healing potions and your scars ready to be tended to.
You stopped short in front of your bed, Pandora’s present small in contrast to your belongings sprawled all over your bedding. It had her touch all over the decoration, even if the card claimed it was from both Rosier twins, the silver bow and colorful wrapping paper showing her peculiar taste. Your shaky hand hovered over the ribbon and gently tugged it to open the box, where you found a pretty aquamarine necklace along with a soft pair of green knitted mittens sitting neatly enveloped by tissue paper. You smiled and wasted no time to try and put the necklace around your neck, ignoring the fact that your shaky hands would make the task nearly impossible.
You were about to throw the necklace across the room in desperation when you heard a light knock on the door.
“Yes?” You managed to speak out, a sob begging to leave your lips. There was silence on the other side and you briefly wondered if you imagined the whole thing. “What?”
“Can I come in?” Sirius said quietly, and you frowned, but replied a quiet yes before turning your back to the door. “Hi,” He said as he stepped in, careful in his movements.
“Hi,” You echoed quietly, looking around the room to avoid meeting his eyes.
Sirius stared at the necklace in your hand and the discarded box in the other, “Need help with that?”
“I’m okay,” You followed his gaze and shook your head, knowing well it was a losing battle with the piece of jewelry. “I was just untangling it,” You said, barely believing it, and by his face, Sirius didn’t seem to believe you, either.
He stepped closer to you, his movements more confident. “Let me help you,” You opened your mouth to protest, but ended up handing him the necklace, knowing it was a losing battle arguing with him, too. “Stubborn thing you are, trying to put on this tiny necklace when your hands are shaking like a leaf.” He pointed as he stood behind you.
A silence followed, and you stared down at your hands, suddenly insecure in the way they trembled, another souvenir from your fellow housemate’s attack.
“I didn’t think anyone would notice.”
“They’re not very noticeable,” He allowed, gently tugging your shoulders to make you face him. “But sadly, love, I am very familiar with these kinds of things.” His grey eyes pointedly looked at the blood dots peeking through your bandages from your jumper. “I would change those before supper if I were you.”
You swallowed and nodded, “Thank you. Is this why you came here? Is the food ready?”
He opened his mouth, but seemed to think better of it, and nodded his head. “Yes, um… Mum told me she made you some of your vegan requests.”
“Oh,” You frowned, and he chuckled quietly at the surprise in your face. “I’ll be down in a moment… I have to…”
“I know,” He nodded, then made to walk out the door but paused on the threshold, turning to face you once again. “You know… James, he’s really trying, it’s just… He doesn’t know how to reach out.”
A beat.
“Was it hard for you? To reach out to Regulus? After everything?”
He seemed to be taken aback with your question, frowning and very clearly about to tell you to mind your sodding business, but then his eyes got a very sad look that you despised. You both dreaded and hoped for his answer.
“It was difficult, yes, but because of the way we were raised, not because there wasn’t love, it was just very tangled with other things, confusion, anger and resentment… But the love persevered. I think… I think that’s what made it bearable, that at the end of the day we loved each other despite everything.”
You nodded, visibly not satisfied with his answer. “I get that, but… you said it yourself, it was hard because of the way you were raised so… what is stopping James?”
Sirius seemed pretty close to tears himself, feeling for you and frustrated at the way James acted. Honestly not even himself could explain the way James handled everything since you both were sorted, admittedly he hadn’t known him long enough back then to be confused by the evident indifference towards you, but as he grew to know you both, that confusion grew in significance. It couldn’t have been the same James that offered him his home without thinking twice when he learned the hell that was Grimmauld Place, it was hard for Sirius to think that James held some resentment towards his sister for being sorted into Slytherin when he himself despised Sirius’ parents for disowning him for being a Gryffindor. You didn’t seem to be particularly fond of the pureblood supremacy ideologies your house held, either; keeping to yourself and to your friends, the Rosier twins and occasionally Regulus as of lately, and the gentle way you carried yourself through the hallways. He often wondered if the Sorting Hat had made a mistake.
“I… I don’t know, sweetheart,” He sighed. “I’m sorry if I overstepped, I don’t think this is a conversation for me to participate in.”
“It’s alright,” You nodded, once again swallowing the lump in your throat. “I’ll be down in a minute.” You said before marching towards your bathroom, closing the door behind you.
Sirius sighed, feeling very angry at himself for the way he managed to mess it all up in a matter of seconds. A hand squeezed his shoulder and he turned his face to meet both Remus and his brother’s sad eyes, he shrugged sadly and closed the door to your room quietly. A few seconds later, Lily walked out of her own room, immediately taking notice of the three boys sadly staring at your door and ushered them all to the dinning room, a sad look in her own eyes as she tried to ignore the knot in her stomach.
—
You stared blankly at a spot next to your father‘s face as you pretended to listen to his very heated debate with James about where should the next Quidditch Cup be. The food long gone and conversations passed in a daze as you ate supper and managed to participate here and there and answer the questions directed to you. You unconsciously thumbed the precious gemstone resting in your chest, the repetitive action helped you make the shakiness in your hands less evident.
You sat in a wingback chair, making a cocoon of yourself as you watched your brother and his friends happily chatting away to different topics, you watched as he occasionally grabbed Lily’s hand and kissed it, or the way he reached over his girlfriend to shove Sirius’ shoulder, mischief glistening behind his glasses. You knew you were being a killjoy, your pain almost an imposition in their delightful conversation had they noticed, if they ever did, or let them notice, you bitterly thought.
“Oh, darling,” Suddenly you had a handkerchief shoved to your nose. You frowned, but let your mother’s hand cradle your face back. “You almost stained your jumper,” Horrified, you noticed that your nose was bleeding, a common occurrence since the incident.
“Sorry,” You mumbled, trying to look away from her eyes, slowly filling with worry. “Don’t know what happened there. Strange.”
“Good thing your mum has good reflexes,” your dad pointed, chuckling and blissfully unaware of the sudden tension in the room. “Growing up with you lot gave her reflexes of steel, she would’ve been a killer Seeker.”
“Let that go, honey,” Your mum added distractly, looking into your eyes, searching for… what? You were not sure, but her scrutiny made you nervous. “Are you okay?”
You inhaled deeply, suddenly feeling very warm. “Yes, I can take it, mum–” You made to raise your hand to take the handkerchief from her, her eyes falling on your hands.
“Are you cold?”
“What? No. I’m fine.”
“But you’re shaking.” She argued, and you found yourself slowly losing your patience at her questioning. “Are you sure you’re—”
“Can everyone stop asking me that? I said I’m fine.” You spat, shocking everyone into silence, even yourself. “Sorry, I… I’m sorry. That was uncalled for, I…Yes, I’m alright.”
Somewhere from the floor came a scoff and you felt dread recoiling around your ribcage. You lowered the handkerchief from your face to see James dryly chuckling at you, his hazel eyes holding a fire that was only reserved for… Horrified, you realized he was about to tell your parents everything.
“James,” You whispered, pleading with your eyes to force him to take a step back. But your brother seemed done covering for you. “Please don’t.”
“James?” Your mother turned to him, who in return stood up from his spot on the floor, Lily reached out to pull him down again. “Is anyone going to fill me in as to what’s gotten into you both?”
He stared hard at you, then, “She was attacked.”
And just as the words slipped past his lips, chaos ensued with your parents, neither of them expecting those words to leave James’ lips. The air was sucked out of your lungs, and you reached to press the heel of your hand to your sternum, as if that would help your lungs accept the air you desperately seeked. You were not sure where you got the strength, but you marched towards him, betrayal in your eyes.
“You have no right,” You sneered, meeting his stormy gaze, he looked down at you, both your bodies pulsating with unresolved anger. “You promised!”
“I did not promise a damn thing to you. You’re my sister, and I cannot simply sit back and watch you fade away from us, can I?”
You scoffed. “It didn’t stop you before, hasn’t it?” He stepped back, as if your words alone had slapped him across his face. Your parents watched the scene with horror. “You’re my sister, you’re a liar. You made it very clear I am very much not your sister, James. In fact, I think you made it very clear to everyone that anyone can be accepted into your fucking marauders club except me.”
“Wait, so this is why you’re so miffed with me? Because I didn’t let you in the Marauders?” James had the nerve to laugh, and you stared at him in shock. “You have officially lost the plot, grow up, I beg you.”
“James!”
“No, James,” You met him head on, storm in your eyes as you tried to find your words. “Contrary to what your ego-driven mind might think, not everyone wants to be part of your glorified freak show.” You said, not at all regretting the venom in your voice. “You left me. You… you don’t even try, you think that just because you fought for me, breaking Snape’s nose, everything would be forgiven?”
“Look at what he did to you!” He pointed, squirming a finger inside the neckline of your jumper, pulling down to show everyone the bandage in your shoulder. You slapped his hand away with anger, but he grabbed your hand and raised it for everyone to see. “You can barely function with these shakes, look, you can barely put on a necklace!”
“James, stop,” Came Remus’ stern voice from somewhere in the room.
At this, your glossy eyes turned to Sirius, who, until that moment, had managed to sit back calmly and not let the whole ordeal get to him. He looked away as your betrayal was evident in your eyes.
“That wasn’t for you to tell, Sirius.” You said to him quietly, anger barely contained.
“Well, I, for one, am glad he told me. You could’ve gone the entire break hiding it from us had it not been for Sirius.”
“Like hiding it is such a hard task.” You snapped. “You barely notice my presence let alone a silly shake in my hands. I could’ve died that day and you wouldn’t have noticed at all, James.”
“You damn right could’ve bloody died! Go on, show them,” He stepped closer, and you barely registered his intention until it was too late.
With the help of his reflexes, you were a beat too late to stop him from lifting the hem of your jumper, exposing some of the fully healed scars in your stomach, the biggest one cutting through your navel in a nasty gash. Your mother gasped and her eyes filled with tears immediately, your father stared in shock, despair evident in his eyes. You pushed James away with all the strength you could muster, accidentally pushing your mother in the process, and pulled your jumper back down.
“You’re a complete, utter, dickhead, James.” You stared at him in shock, so did everyone in the room. “Fuck you, seriously, fuck you.”
“Darling,” Your mother stepped to you, but you were too mortified to even accept her hug. “How long… How did this…” She seemed desperate to find the right words to say, but a sob left her lips instead. You finally allowed the tears in your eyes to trail down your cheeks. “Why didn’t you say?”
“What would I even say?” You said desperately in between shallow breaths, your usually calm demeanor breaking. “That I was so depressed I riled him up so he could hurt me? That I didn’t even fight back? How was I supposed to explain that, mum? Tell me,” Before you could even process it, the feelings you had bottled up for months seemed to be done being held back in your chest. You chuckled humorlessly, “How would that conversation even go? That I’m so miserable, though I have no reason to be, that I walked towards the one person who would surely hurt me and enjoy it? This, exactly, is why I didn’t say. But here comes bloody James Potter who has to be everyone’s fucking hero! Are you happy now, James? Is this what you wanted? You wanted me to thank you in front of everyone that you saved my honor by hurting Snape? Well, there you go. Now leave me the fuck alone.”
Had you been less blinded by your anger, you probably would’ve waited for anyone to speak, or at least apologize for the amount of curse words you managed to say in a span of 20 seconds, but you simply exhaled deeply and stormed off towards your room, where you surely would spend the rest of your days crying away in embarrassment. Your tears fell hot and fast as you slammed the door behind you and sat on your bed, ignoring the stinging sensation in your shoulder by your harsh movements. Your hands shook impossibly harder to the point of actual pain in your joints, and pressed your face to your hands as you cried hard. Your sobs loud enough to drown the chaos from downstairs, your own doing, you thought angrily.
The door to your room opened, your brain was too shaken up and confused that when you opened your mouth to speak, a pained sob left your lips instead. Remus’ brows pinched with sadness as he walked to you, your disheveled hair, tear streaken cheeks and the dried trail of blood down your nose an exact mirror of your inner turmoil. He stepped closer and stretched his arms out, an open invitation in case you didn’t want to be touched, but you desperately needed something or someone to ground you before you could definitely reach a full blown breakdown. A breakdown days in the making.
“You’re okay,” He said as you stepped into his arms. He carefully caged you in, keeping you secure as you felt your chest shreding to pieces as you let out sob after sob. “No one is mad at you, we’re not, I promise you, not your mum, not your dad, no one. You’re okay.” He whispered, close to tears himself.
Soon, you felt a hand rubbing your back carefully, then, Lily’s gentle voice spoke, “Take deep breaths, honey,”
“I… I can’t,” You scraped out, voice raspy and worn out. “I…”
“Do it with me,” She instructed, and you pulled away from your hideaway to meet her gaze. Lily smiled sadly as she gently grabbed your hand and raised it to her own chest, where you felt her own heart beating, “Follow me, okay? You can.”
You inhaled and exhaled deeply, and she did it with you. As she busied you with breathing exercises, Remus walked to your bathroom to grab a cloth and damp it with warm water, when he walked back to your room, you seemed visibly calmer. He silently passed the cloth to Lily and sat beside you on the bed, she looked into your eyes and gently pressed it to your lips and under your nose, no-doubtedly cleaning the blood and snot off your face. None of you dared to speak, the only sound in the room the occasional hiccup leaving your lips, the fight leaving you tired and numb.
“I don’t know what crossed his mind to do that,” Began Lily, pointedly keeping her voice monotone to not spark another collapse from you. “That was very…”
“Barbaric?” Remus supplied, him not trying to keep his anger away from his tone. Lily frowned at him.
“Unlike him.” She said, then turned to you. “What he said, what he did… That was very cruel.”
“Yeah, well… I seem to always bring out the cruelest parts of him.” You finally spoke, and she hushed you to not strain your voice more.
“I think he’s very angry at himself, and he stupidly managed to show it in the worst way possible.” Remus pointed, the fight leaving his body as he gingerly placed a loose hair behind your ear. “It was very obvious to everyone that you were struggling but it passed right above him…”
“He didn’t need to make such a spectacle of himself though, and me. We could’ve talked it, if he had asked.”
Both Remus and Lily gave you a deadpan look.
“Okay, maybe not at first but why is it always me the one that has to reach out? I’m tired of embarrassing myself seeking for his attention.”
“You’re right,” The three of you looked up to find James standing at the threshold of your bedroom, a mix of feelings displayed in his face, regret being the most evident. “And I’m sorry.”
Lily looked at you, and you met her green eyes. She frowned, are you sure? Her eyes asked, and you nodded, grabbing the cloth from her hand. Both stood up and walked to leave, Lily ignoring the pleading look from her boyfriend as she closed the door behind her. The room fell eerily quiet as you stared at each other, assessing your stances.
“I’m sorry.”
“So you’ve said,” You mumbled, looking down at the cloth in your hands.
“I’m sorry,” He repeated, as he walked closer, you tensed immediately and something inside his chest cracked. “I shouldn’t have… I… It wasn’t my place.”
You closed your eyes, succumbing to the tears forming in your eyes and brought the cloth to clean your cheeks.
“I told you to not say anything, James. Why didn’t you listen? I… I don’t want mum or dad to get in between our mess.”
“Our mess,” He echoed, sitting next to you on the bed when you showed no signs of backing away again. “I did make a mess of everything, didn’t I?”
“It has always been, I was just the only one willing to see it as that.”
James frowned. “That’s not true.” He exhaled deeply, searching for your eyes. “I… I know I haven’t been the best brother to you but, but I wouldn’t say it reached a point where you feel like you can’t tell me anything.”
“James,” You chuckled dryly, not even trying to argue again but to get him to see where you were coming from. “You don’t even acknowledge me back at school, you practically pretend I don’t exist.”
“I’m sorry.”
“See, you keep saying that, but I don’t hear reasons why I should forgive you.”
“You shouldn’t forgive me, angel. In fact, what happened downstairs is the least punishment imaginable you could throw at me.” His chest filled with hope when you chuckled wetly. “I just… When I saw you in that cot, bleeding out and barely conscious, I felt like a part of me was being torn away… I had never felt so helpless in my life, knowing you would be taken away from me that easily and that I never tried to reach out? It’s been eating me alive, especially when you have been so calm about it, now I know why,”
You looked away, embarrassed. “I didn’t mean to say that, I don’t know why I said it.”
“See, I think you did mean it. And it’s okay,” James scooted closer, his hand reached to yours in question, you placed it over his. He squeezed it four times, and you smiled despite the sadness in your heart. The mighty Potter duo, your own way of consoling each other when you were children. “Just, let me try again? Be a brother?”
“You never stopped being my brother, James, not to me.”
“To me neither, I’m still your brother, even if I haven’t shown it how you deserve it. But,” He paused, searching for your eyes, “Promise me that you’ll stop drifting away, that you’ll be in a distance where I can reach you.”
You swallowed, but nodded. “I’m sorry, too. I didn’t… I didn’t mean to have it get this bad, I just, I just wanted you to notice me.” Something inside you broke, and so did your voice. Thankfully, you were close enough for James to reach over and hug you gently. “I didn’t realize you wanted to talk to me, or… or get closer. I’m sorry, I’ll stay close. I promise.” You whispered, and reached out to squeeze his hand, four times.
“I hope you can forgive me for what happened downstairs, too… I don’t… I just got so angry at myself, and… and you, but I shouldn’t have aired your pain like that.” He spoke after a long silence, voice barely contained as he fought back his own sob, not because he didn’t want to cry, but to get his feelings known. “It’s okay if it takes a while, too, I just want you to know that I’m sorry, and I regret it… I do.” I regret everything I did, it’s the bit he didn’t say, but you heard it clear in the pain in his voice.
You nodded, feeling satisfied with the heart to heart, “It might take a while, but thank you.” You dropped your head on his shoulder, and closed your eyes, finally letting your body relax against your brother.
Your brother, who was there, willingly, hugging you. It was a nice feeling to fall asleep to, you thought as you drifted off. James looked down as your head got heavier, and noticed in your parted lips that you had fallen asleep at some point of your shared silence. He smiled, and helped you get fully into the bed, carefully placing your belongings away.
He made to leave, but you pulled him back, your voice heavy with sleep, “Stay?”
And James, even in his drowsy state, couldn’t fight back the happiness he felt in his heart. He nodded, though you couldn’t see him, and laid next to you, your hands clasped together as you both drifted away holding onto each other, very much like you did once upon a time when you were little.
In your desk, messily thrown along with your things by James, was Pandora’s gift, and a note in neat handwriting that said:
Happy christmas sweet girl. Aquamarine, your birthstone, is said to possess healing properties known to cure even the most devastating of heartbreaks and tame the most powerful oceans into tranquility and peace. It also gives the bearer hope and clarity. Love, Evan and Pandora Rosier.
summary: On September 1st, 1971 you were sorted into Slytherin, putting you on the map as the first Potter to do so, and the first time James Potter turned his back on someone he claimed he loved dearly. You’re slowly drifting away, turning the Potter twins into a sad tale, but after one deadly incident close to Christmas break, James decides to put an end to the distance he unknowingly created.
How can you say that you love someone you can’t tell is dying?
cw: suicidal ideation, but hinted. scars and blood mention, nosebleed. angst, very heavy on the angst. potter!reader, fem!reader. platonic marauders and rosier twins. background jily.
a/n: sorry if this too much… just had this idea for a while and i needed an outlet. likes and reblogs are greatly appreciated. enjoy! xx
···
You sighed, the bandage around your shoulder suffocating you to the point of tears. As much as you tried, you wanted to keep your compartment warm and toasty with the blanket over your seat and legs, but your efforts were in vain at the mere lack of human heat. The fogged window seemed an acceptable distraction as you dragged your finger around, drawing meaningless doodles as the train passed by beautiful landscapes you barely registered.
Something shifted on your other side, and you turned to find people walking past your compartment, pointing and whispering about you and your sad state. None of them dared to open the door, making the lump in your throat grow with each breath you took. You looked down at the cassette player in your lap, hands too shaky to change the cassette into something more cheerful.
In time, you looked up to find a pair of brown eyes staring at you with both curiosity and pity, you frowned, desperately wishing your brother’s friends would stop pestering you. Their mere presence was a bitter reminder of your brother's abandonment, the pain you suffered seeing them fill your place, share laughter together like you both did many years ago. You looked away, luckily for you, Remus got the signal and made to move past the compartment; but to Remus’ ill luck, James followed his gaze and opened the door.
“Mum said Dad won’t be able to come, but will be waiting for us at the Manor.” He murmured, his eyes pointedly trying to not stare too hard at the bandages peeking through your jumper. You nodded. “She will meet us at the station.”
“Okay,” You said, not moving to take your headphones off, nor to look at him to meet his gaze. You feared you would cry if you looked at him, a reminder of the despair in his eyes when they brought you into the infirmary. “I knew that, you know we still write to each other, right?”
James nodded quickly, swallowing hard at your voice devoid of emotion. “Yeah, just… Just wanted to make sure,” He paused, quickly stepping in to fully enter and close the door behind him. You finally turned your head to him with surprise. “You alright?”
You scoffed, finally taking your headphones off your ears, “What do you think, James?” This time, he has no qualms about studying you completely, eyes skimming over your poor posture as a result of the accident. You couldn’t help rolling your eyes, your blood boiled as you spat. “Yes, I’m fine. Will that be all, or…?”
James closed his mouth and schooled his face, something desperately needing to be said. You bit your lip, your insides filling with regret but having no intention of backing away from the incoming disagreement. Something in you stirred with hope, hope that he would finally give you your place and sit with you. However, the bespectacled boy simply nodded and left the compartment.
You let out a breath, disbelief and disappointment in your heart as you placed the headphones back in your head. A tear slowly rolled down your cheek and you quickly cleaned it, your shaky hand almost poking your eye as you desperately tried to swallow the possible panic attack you felt looming over you. The countless letters addressed to you from your mother heavy on your satchel, most of them asking you to fix your relationship with James, the other begging you to take care of yourself, you weren’t sure which ones hurt the most.
The moment the word Sectumsempra left Snape’s mouth, a curse filled with magic so dark not even the boy could understand it, you almost felt bad for the relief you felt in your chest at the pain that took over your body. That morning still felt like a far away memory, a dream that shook you up so much you still recalled after you woke up; McGonagall’s surprised gasp and the students that were unfortunate enough to witness the moment your fellow housemate almost made you cut into pieces. You were brought up in a rush to the infirmary where your brother and his friends recovered from a rather violent full moon, James had almost passed out at the pure rage he felt when he was informed of the situation. You weren’t proud to admit that your brother being angry on your behalf was a nice memory to die with, a redemption that came almost too late.
You weren’t even prouder to admit to the sinking feeling in your chest when you woke up to find nothing had changed, the only remains that someone still cared about you in the form of Madam Pomfrey’s gentle touches. James hadn’t stayed back to check on you, and you couldn’t blame him. To that day, you couldn’t fully stare at your reflection in the mirror without your eyes filling with tears, had it not been for Pandora, promoted to friend as of lately, you wouldn’t have been able to even put the healing potions in your scars.
Just in time, three knocks came at the door, you turned, ready to yell at your brother or his friends to fuck off, but Pandora’s gentle smile made you pause. She pointed at the seat across from you, cold and empty, and you nodded dumbly. She stepped in, arms filled with sweets from the trolley and smiled at you as she made herself comfortable in the seat.
“Hi, how are you feeling?”
Why is everyone asking me that?, you thought bitterly. Immediately feeling regretful when Pandora presented you with a Chocolate Frog.
“I’m okay,” you murmured, shyly taking the sweet from her hand. She had a different color in each of her nails, you noted. “Thank you.”
Her platinum white locks fell to her shoulder as she sat back, her own Chocolate Frog in her hand. She smiled at you and picked her book, and you wanted to cry tears of happiness. Comfortable silences were Pandora’s main form of love language, you quickly learned, and you were eternally grateful for the company. You weren’t sure if you had it in you to put up with your self hatred for another moment, let alone the rest of the train ride.
You looked up from your cassette case, eyes lingering a beat too long on the compartment door.
“He’s two compartments over,” She said breezily, noticing the hesitance in your movements. “I passed them on my way here, he seems gutted.”
“Oh, please,” You made a scoffing sound, your shaky hand struggling to take a new cassette off its box. “He just feels bad for me, but he’s going to do absolutely nothing about it.” You poked your cheek with your tongue, satisfied when you finally got the cassette out.
“Have you thought that maybe,” Pandora started to say, fully closing her book now that she had your undivided attention, “maybe… he thinks it’s too late? You have been a bit too cold to him…”
“It’s the least he deserves,” You spat, then cleared your throat. If Pandora felt offended at your anger, she didn’t show, she never did. You looked back to the window, feeling the train had noticeably slowed down. “I just… I’m so tired of waiting for him, I don’t… I don’t know how to feel, I so badly wanted him to get close but now that he’s trying I don’t…” To your utter horror, you felt tears prickling in the corners of your eyes. “I’m so confused.”
Pandora’s lips curled in an empathetic smile, she reached and held your shaky hand, gently sweeping her thumb across your knuckles, you took a deep breath, trying to collect yourself as students began to empty the train.
“I’m sorry,” You dared to meet her heterochromic eyes.
She shook her head, chuckling quietly. “No need to be sorry, keeping those feelings bottled up must be so tiring, I’m sure.” You laughed weakly, and used your free hand to discretely clean your cheeks. “You might’ve accepted your loneliness a long time ago, but that doesn’t mean it has to be permanent, sweet girl. Evan would agree, though he’s more shy to actually say it. You got more people in your corner than you realize, only if you let them…” She turned to the door, and you followed her gaze where you found James and Sirius walking past with a troubling look in their eyes. Pandora stood up, “You need help with your trunk?”
You opened your mouth, but were interrupted by the door opening. “Ready to go?” Sirius asked, and you frowned.
“I can carry it, thank you.” You smiled at Pandora, pointedly ignoring his question. She nodded, and reached to give you a quick hug, gentle and careful to not hurt you. “I’ll see you next term.”
“Write me?” She smiled, passing you a small box and you nodded, eyes in a daze as you tried to read the note. She walked to the door, and smiled at both boys. “Happy christmas.”
You watched her go, shaky hand still holding the box. James frowned, and studied you for a few more seconds before Sirius, who wanted to leave the station immediately before his parents would show up to drag him and Regulus away, cleared his throat rather loudly.
“Are you ready to go?” He repeated, making a move to take your trunk but you swiftly picked it up. Your features a mix of anger and, if he had more time to look at you, he would also find pain. “Don’t be stubborn, I can take that.”
“I can take my own trunk, Sirius. But thank you.” You spat, then turned away from both boys. “I’ll meet you in the platform in a moment, let me just put everything away.” You pointed to your little cocoon, the blanket and cassette player tossed aside in your previously vacated seat. “Just remember to—”
“To not tell Mum anything,” Finished James for you, an edge to his voice. “We know.”
You nodded, fear settling in your chest at the prospect of your brother picking up the argument you had nights before. Him begging you to tell your parents about what happened with Snape, to prepare them for your almost deadly state, but you met him head on, not willing to back down until he dropped the matter. He had walked away mid argument, his friends staring at you both with something akin to sadness, watching the distance grow impossibly longer despite James’ recent efforts to fix it. You had cried that night in Pandora’s arms as she and her brother watched you with both sadness and regret, you, for your part, seemed blind to the fact that they had been the reason James had breached that subject with you.
The bespectacled boy nodded, and stepped out of the compartment with Sirius close behind. You took the cassette player and put the headphones back on, Billy Joel’s Piano Man a fitting soundtrack to the way you felt. You took your satchel and hurriedly put the messily folded blanket inside, made an assesment of the compartment to not leave anything behind and silently walked out of the compartment towards the platform.
You watched with a sinking feeling as your mother enthusiastically greeted James, grabbing him by his cheeks and showering him with kisses, Sirius and the rest of his friends in line to receive the same treatment. He says, Bill, I believe this is killing me, Billy Joel sang in your ears and you readily agreed, walking towards the bunch with a tiny smile and your insides filled with dread.
Euphemia Potter’s bright smile dimmed when she met your eyes, and noted the sadness that, evident to everyone but you, radiated off your body as you placed your headphones around your neck. She opened her mouth to speak but nothing came out, your brother and his friends watching the exchange nervously, as she practically balanced herself over you in a tight hug.
“My lovely girl,” You were horrified to almost hear her voice breaking, the least you wanted was your mother to worry for you. “How I missed you, oh, look at you.”
“Hi, mum…” You muttered, bitting your lip as she accidentally squeezed precisely around your middle, where your most painful scar was located. “Missed you too, Dad too, of course.” You patted her back awkwardly and she pulled back.
“You’re so small, oh, my girl, please be honest with me,” She grabbed your cheeks the same way she did to James, and you successfully swallowed the lump in your throat. “Have you been eating properly? I knew that veganism nonsense simply wouldn’t do.”
Her eyes studied you much like James did earlier, and you bit your lip nervously. You knew what was coming, and you wanted to take off and disappear from her searching eyes.
“I’m actually quite hungry…” You said quietly, hoping it would be enough to distract her.
Your mother, however, couldn’t be deterred. “What happened here?”
Unconsciously, you met James’ eyes. “Quiddtich accident.” You replied quickly, the lie easily slipping past your lips. “Fell off my broom, doesn’t hurt, though. I’m okay.”
“Quidditch!” She exclaimed, chuckling as she turned to James who smiled in return to avoid giving you away. “Honestly, what is it with my children and Quidditch? Can’t wait to see your dad’s face— Speaking of! He must be driving himself mad waiting for us! Come, come! Dear, you need help with your trunk?”
“I’m okay—” You replied and she quickly turned to shepherd everyone out of the plaform.
“Here,” Remus walked to you, taking the handle from your shaky hand, hard to notice to the blind eye, but he knew better, he was familiar. You frowned, and he made his voice extra quiet as he spoke, “I know you can manage but you’re going to make them worse, and by the time we get to the manor everyone will notice. It’s no problem, really.”
You stared at him, then at James who pretended to listen as Sirius and your mother fussed over Regulus, who would join you for the first time for the holidays. He gave you a tight-lipped smile and you forced yourself to look back at Remus, he smiled kindly as you nodded mutely and trailed behind the group. A comfortable silence falling between you both.
—
Potter manor seemed to stay stuck in time, with its beautiful pillars and big stained glass windows letting in colorful rays of sunshine when the english countryside allowed it. You looked through the window at your mother’s lovely garden she devoted herself to during springtime, surely to kill time when your dad was busy at work and her children away at school, her caring nature evident in the way all the flowers grew beautifully, despite the current cold weather. You sighed, and walked away ready to face your hideous fate, your secret stash of healing potions and your scars ready to be tended to.
You stopped short in front of your bed, Pandora’s present small in contrast to your belongings sprawled all over your bedding. It had her touch all over the decoration, even if the card claimed it was from both Rosier twins, the silver bow and colorful wrapping paper showing her peculiar taste. Your shaky hand hovered over the ribbon and gently tugged it to open the box, where you found a pretty aquamarine necklace along with a soft pair of green knitted mittens sitting neatly enveloped by tissue paper. You smiled and wasted no time to try and put the necklace around your neck, ignoring the fact that your shaky hands would make the task nearly impossible.
You were about to throw the necklace across the room in desperation when you heard a light knock on the door.
“Yes?” You managed to speak out, a sob begging to leave your lips. There was silence on the other side and you briefly wondered if you imagined the whole thing. “What?”
“Can I come in?” Sirius said quietly, and you frowned, but replied a quiet yes before turning your back to the door. “Hi,” He said as he stepped in, careful in his movements.
“Hi,” You echoed quietly, looking around the room to avoid meeting his eyes.
Sirius stared at the necklace in your hand and the discarded box in the other, “Need help with that?”
“I’m okay,” You followed his gaze and shook your head, knowing well it was a losing battle with the piece of jewelry. “I was just untangling it,” You said, barely believing it, and by his face, Sirius didn’t seem to believe you, either.
He stepped closer to you, his movements more confident. “Let me help you,” You opened your mouth to protest, but ended up handing him the necklace, knowing it was a losing battle arguing with him, too. “Stubborn thing you are, trying to put on this tiny necklace when your hands are shaking like a leaf.” He pointed as he stood behind you.
A silence followed, and you stared down at your hands, suddenly insecure in the way they trembled, another souvenir from your fellow housemate’s attack.
“I didn’t think anyone would notice.”
“They’re not very noticeable,” He allowed, gently tugging your shoulders to make you face him. “But sadly, love, I am very familiar with these kinds of things.” His grey eyes pointedly looked at the blood dots peeking through your bandages from your jumper. “I would change those before supper if I were you.”
You swallowed and nodded, “Thank you. Is this why you came here? Is the food ready?”
He opened his mouth, but seemed to think better of it, and nodded his head. “Yes, um… Mum told me she made you some of your vegan requests.”
“Oh,” You frowned, and he chuckled quietly at the surprise in your face. “I’ll be down in a moment… I have to…”
“I know,” He nodded, then made to walk out the door but paused on the threshold, turning to face you once again. “You know… James, he’s really trying, it’s just… He doesn’t know how to reach out.”
A beat.
“Was it hard for you? To reach out to Regulus? After everything?”
He seemed to be taken aback with your question, frowning and very clearly about to tell you to mind your sodding business, but then his eyes got a very sad look that you despised. You both dreaded and hoped for his answer.
“It was difficult, yes, but because of the way we were raised, not because there wasn’t love, it was just very tangled with other things, confusion, anger and resentment… But the love persevered. I think… I think that’s what made it bearable, that at the end of the day we loved each other despite everything.”
You nodded, visibly not satisfied with his answer. “I get that, but… you said it yourself, it was hard because of the way you were raised so… what is stopping James?”
Sirius seemed pretty close to tears himself, feeling for you and frustrated at the way James acted. Honestly not even himself could explain the way James handled everything since you both were sorted, admittedly he hadn’t known him long enough back then to be confused by the evident indifference towards you, but as he grew to know you both, that confusion grew in significance. It couldn’t have been the same James that offered him his home without thinking twice when he learned the hell that was Grimmauld Place, it was hard for Sirius to think that James held some resentment towards his sister for being sorted into Slytherin when he himself despised Sirius’ parents for disowning him for being a Gryffindor. You didn’t seem to be particularly fond of the pureblood supremacy ideologies your house held, either; keeping to yourself and to your friends, the Rosier twins and occasionally Regulus as of lately, and the gentle way you carried yourself through the hallways. He often wondered if the Sorting Hat had made a mistake.
“I… I don’t know, sweetheart,” He sighed. “I’m sorry if I overstepped, I don’t think this is a conversation for me to participate in.”
“It’s alright,” You nodded, once again swallowing the lump in your throat. “I’ll be down in a minute.” You said before marching towards your bathroom, closing the door behind you.
Sirius sighed, feeling very angry at himself for the way he managed to mess it all up in a matter of seconds. A hand squeezed his shoulder and he turned his face to meet both Remus and his brother’s sad eyes, he shrugged sadly and closed the door to your room quietly. A few seconds later, Lily walked out of her own room, immediately taking notice of the three boys sadly staring at your door and ushered them all to the dinning room, a sad look in her own eyes as she tried to ignore the knot in her stomach.
—
You stared blankly at a spot next to your father‘s face as you pretended to listen to his very heated debate with James about where should the next Quidditch Cup be. The food long gone and conversations passed in a daze as you ate supper and managed to participate here and there and answer the questions directed to you. You unconsciously thumbed the precious gemstone resting in your chest, the repetitive action helped you make the shakiness in your hands less evident.
You sat in a wingback chair, making a cocoon of yourself as you watched your brother and his friends happily chatting away to different topics, you watched as he occasionally grabbed Lily’s hand and kissed it, or the way he reached over his girlfriend to shove Sirius’ shoulder, mischief glistening behind his glasses. You knew you were being a killjoy, your pain almost an imposition in their delightful conversation had they noticed, if they ever did, or let them notice, you bitterly thought.
“Oh, darling,” Suddenly you had a handkerchief shoved to your nose. You frowned, but let your mother’s hand cradle your face back. “You almost stained your jumper,” Horrified, you noticed that your nose was bleeding, a common occurrence since the incident.
“Sorry,” You mumbled, trying to look away from her eyes, slowly filling with worry. “Don’t know what happened there. Strange.”
“Good thing your mum has good reflexes,” your dad pointed, chuckling and blissfully unaware of the sudden tension in the room. “Growing up with you lot gave her reflexes of steel, she would’ve been a killer Seeker.”
“Let that go, honey,” Your mum added distractly, looking into your eyes, searching for… what? You were not sure, but her scrutiny made you nervous. “Are you okay?”
You inhaled deeply, suddenly feeling very warm. “Yes, I can take it, mum–” You made to raise your hand to take the handkerchief from her, her eyes falling on your hands.
“Are you cold?”
“What? No. I’m fine.”
“But you’re shaking.” She argued, and you found yourself slowly losing your patience at her questioning. “Are you sure you’re—”
“Can everyone stop asking me that? I said I’m fine.” You spat, shocking everyone into silence, even yourself. “Sorry, I… I’m sorry. That was uncalled for, I…Yes, I’m alright.”
Somewhere from the floor came a scoff and you felt dread recoiling around your ribcage. You lowered the handkerchief from your face to see James dryly chuckling at you, his hazel eyes holding a fire that was only reserved for… Horrified, you realized he was about to tell your parents everything.
“James,” You whispered, pleading with your eyes to force him to take a step back. But your brother seemed done covering for you. “Please don’t.”
“James?” Your mother turned to him, who in return stood up from his spot on the floor, Lily reached out to pull him down again. “Is anyone going to fill me in as to what’s gotten into you both?”
He stared hard at you, then, “She was attacked.”
And just as the words slipped past his lips, chaos ensued with your parents, neither of them expecting those words to leave James’ lips. The air was sucked out of your lungs, and you reached to press the heel of your hand to your sternum, as if that would help your lungs accept the air you desperately seeked. You were not sure where you got the strength, but you marched towards him, betrayal in your eyes.
“You have no right,” You sneered, meeting his stormy gaze, he looked down at you, both your bodies pulsating with unresolved anger. “You promised!”
“I did not promise a damn thing to you. You’re my sister, and I cannot simply sit back and watch you fade away from us, can I?”
You scoffed. “It didn’t stop you before, hasn’t it?” He stepped back, as if your words alone had slapped him across his face. Your parents watched the scene with horror. “You’re my sister, you’re a liar. You made it very clear I am very much not your sister, James. In fact, I think you made it very clear to everyone that anyone can be accepted into your fucking marauders club except me.”
“Wait, so this is why you’re so miffed with me? Because I didn’t let you in the Marauders?” James had the nerve to laugh, and you stared at him in shock. “You have officially lost the plot, grow up, I beg you.”
“James!”
“No, James,” You met him head on, storm in your eyes as you tried to find your words. “Contrary to what your ego-driven mind might think, not everyone wants to be part of your glorified freak show.” You said, not at all regretting the venom in your voice. “You left me. You… you don’t even try, you think that just because you fought for me, breaking Snape’s nose, everything would be forgiven?”
“Look at what he did to you!” He pointed, squirming a finger inside the neckline of your jumper, pulling down to show everyone the bandage in your shoulder. You slapped his hand away with anger, but he grabbed your hand and raised it for everyone to see. “You can barely function with these shakes, look, you can barely put on a necklace!”
“James, stop,” Came Remus’ stern voice from somewhere in the room.
At this, your glossy eyes turned to Sirius, who, until that moment, had managed to sit back calmly and not let the whole ordeal get to him. He looked away as your betrayal was evident in your eyes.
“That wasn’t for you to tell, Sirius.” You said to him quietly, anger barely contained.
“Well, I, for one, am glad he told me. You could’ve gone the entire break hiding it from us had it not been for Sirius.”
“Like hiding it is such a hard task.” You snapped. “You barely notice my presence let alone a silly shake in my hands. I could’ve died that day and you wouldn’t have noticed at all, James.”
“You damn right could’ve bloody died! Go on, show them,” He stepped closer, and you barely registered his intention until it was too late.
With the help of his reflexes, you were a beat too late to stop him from lifting the hem of your jumper, exposing some of the fully healed scars in your stomach, the biggest one cutting through your navel in a nasty gash. Your mother gasped and her eyes filled with tears immediately, your father stared in shock, despair evident in his eyes. You pushed James away with all the strength you could muster, accidentally pushing your mother in the process, and pulled your jumper back down.
“You’re a complete, utter, dickhead, James.” You stared at him in shock, so did everyone in the room. “Fuck you, seriously, fuck you.”
“Darling,” Your mother stepped to you, but you were too mortified to even accept her hug. “How long… How did this…” She seemed desperate to find the right words to say, but a sob left her lips instead. You finally allowed the tears in your eyes to trail down your cheeks. “Why didn’t you say?”
“What would I even say?” You said desperately in between shallow breaths, your usually calm demeanor breaking. “That I was so depressed I riled him up so he could hurt me? That I didn’t even fight back? How was I supposed to explain that, mum? Tell me,” Before you could even process it, the feelings you had bottled up for months seemed to be done being held back in your chest. You chuckled humorlessly, “How would that conversation even go? That I’m so miserable, though I have no reason to be, that I walked towards the one person who would surely hurt me and enjoy it? This, exactly, is why I didn’t say. But here comes bloody James Potter who has to be everyone’s fucking hero! Are you happy now, James? Is this what you wanted? You wanted me to thank you in front of everyone that you saved my honor by hurting Snape? Well, there you go. Now leave me the fuck alone.”
Had you been less blinded by your anger, you probably would’ve waited for anyone to speak, or at least apologize for the amount of curse words you managed to say in a span of 20 seconds, but you simply exhaled deeply and stormed off towards your room, where you surely would spend the rest of your days crying away in embarrassment. Your tears fell hot and fast as you slammed the door behind you and sat on your bed, ignoring the stinging sensation in your shoulder by your harsh movements. Your hands shook impossibly harder to the point of actual pain in your joints, and pressed your face to your hands as you cried hard. Your sobs loud enough to drown the chaos from downstairs, your own doing, you thought angrily.
The door to your room opened, your brain was too shaken up and confused that when you opened your mouth to speak, a pained sob left your lips instead. Remus’ brows pinched with sadness as he walked to you, your disheveled hair, tear streaken cheeks and the dried trail of blood down your nose an exact mirror of your inner turmoil. He stepped closer and stretched his arms out, an open invitation in case you didn’t want to be touched, but you desperately needed something or someone to ground you before you could definitely reach a full blown breakdown. A breakdown days in the making.
“You’re okay,” He said as you stepped into his arms. He carefully caged you in, keeping you secure as you felt your chest shreding to pieces as you let out sob after sob. “No one is mad at you, we’re not, I promise you, not your mum, not your dad, no one. You’re okay.” He whispered, close to tears himself.
Soon, you felt a hand rubbing your back carefully, then, Lily’s gentle voice spoke, “Take deep breaths, honey,”
“I… I can’t,” You scraped out, voice raspy and worn out. “I…”
“Do it with me,” She instructed, and you pulled away from your hideaway to meet her gaze. Lily smiled sadly as she gently grabbed your hand and raised it to her own chest, where you felt her own heart beating, “Follow me, okay? You can.”
You inhaled and exhaled deeply, and she did it with you. As she busied you with breathing exercises, Remus walked to your bathroom to grab a cloth and damp it with warm water, when he walked back to your room, you seemed visibly calmer. He silently passed the cloth to Lily and sat beside you on the bed, she looked into your eyes and gently pressed it to your lips and under your nose, no-doubtedly cleaning the blood and snot off your face. None of you dared to speak, the only sound in the room the occasional hiccup leaving your lips, the fight leaving you tired and numb.
“I don’t know what crossed his mind to do that,” Began Lily, pointedly keeping her voice monotone to not spark another collapse from you. “That was very…”
“Barbaric?” Remus supplied, him not trying to keep his anger away from his tone. Lily frowned at him.
“Unlike him.” She said, then turned to you. “What he said, what he did… That was very cruel.”
“Yeah, well… I seem to always bring out the cruelest parts of him.” You finally spoke, and she hushed you to not strain your voice more.
“I think he’s very angry at himself, and he stupidly managed to show it in the worst way possible.” Remus pointed, the fight leaving his body as he gingerly placed a loose hair behind your ear. “It was very obvious to everyone that you were struggling but it passed right above him…”
“He didn’t need to make such a spectacle of himself though, and me. We could’ve talked it, if he had asked.”
Both Remus and Lily gave you a deadpan look.
“Okay, maybe not at first but why is it always me the one that has to reach out? I’m tired of embarrassing myself seeking for his attention.”
“You’re right,” The three of you looked up to find James standing at the threshold of your bedroom, a mix of feelings displayed in his face, regret being the most evident. “And I’m sorry.”
Lily looked at you, and you met her green eyes. She frowned, are you sure? Her eyes asked, and you nodded, grabbing the cloth from her hand. Both stood up and walked to leave, Lily ignoring the pleading look from her boyfriend as she closed the door behind her. The room fell eerily quiet as you stared at each other, assessing your stances.
“I’m sorry.”
“So you’ve said,” You mumbled, looking down at the cloth in your hands.
“I’m sorry,” He repeated, as he walked closer, you tensed immediately and something inside his chest cracked. “I shouldn’t have… I… It wasn’t my place.”
You closed your eyes, succumbing to the tears forming in your eyes and brought the cloth to clean your cheeks.
“I told you to not say anything, James. Why didn’t you listen? I… I don’t want mum or dad to get in between our mess.”
“Our mess,” He echoed, sitting next to you on the bed when you showed no signs of backing away again. “I did make a mess of everything, didn’t I?”
“It has always been, I was just the only one willing to see it as that.”
James frowned. “That’s not true.” He exhaled deeply, searching for your eyes. “I… I know I haven’t been the best brother to you but, but I wouldn’t say it reached a point where you feel like you can’t tell me anything.”
“James,” You chuckled dryly, not even trying to argue again but to get him to see where you were coming from. “You don’t even acknowledge me back at school, you practically pretend I don’t exist.”
“I’m sorry.”
“See, you keep saying that, but I don’t hear reasons why I should forgive you.”
“You shouldn’t forgive me, angel. In fact, what happened downstairs is the least punishment imaginable you could throw at me.” His chest filled with hope when you chuckled wetly. “I just… When I saw you in that cot, bleeding out and barely conscious, I felt like a part of me was being torn away… I had never felt so helpless in my life, knowing you would be taken away from me that easily and that I never tried to reach out? It’s been eating me alive, especially when you have been so calm about it, now I know why,”
You looked away, embarrassed. “I didn’t mean to say that, I don’t know why I said it.”
“See, I think you did mean it. And it’s okay,” James scooted closer, his hand reached to yours in question, you placed it over his. He squeezed it four times, and you smiled despite the sadness in your heart. The mighty Potter duo, your own way of consoling each other when you were children. “Just, let me try again? Be a brother?”
“You never stopped being my brother, James, not to me.”
“To me neither, I’m still your brother, even if I haven’t shown it how you deserve it. But,” He paused, searching for your eyes, “Promise me that you’ll stop drifting away, that you’ll be in a distance where I can reach you.”
You swallowed, but nodded. “I’m sorry, too. I didn’t… I didn’t mean to have it get this bad, I just, I just wanted you to notice me.” Something inside you broke, and so did your voice. Thankfully, you were close enough for James to reach over and hug you gently. “I didn’t realize you wanted to talk to me, or… or get closer. I’m sorry, I’ll stay close. I promise.” You whispered, and reached out to squeeze his hand, four times.
“I hope you can forgive me for what happened downstairs, too… I don’t… I just got so angry at myself, and… and you, but I shouldn’t have aired your pain like that.” He spoke after a long silence, voice barely contained as he fought back his own sob, not because he didn’t want to cry, but to get his feelings known. “It’s okay if it takes a while, too, I just want you to know that I’m sorry, and I regret it… I do.” I regret everything I did, it’s the bit he didn’t say, but you heard it clear in the pain in his voice.
You nodded, feeling satisfied with the heart to heart, “It might take a while, but thank you.” You dropped your head on his shoulder, and closed your eyes, finally letting your body relax against your brother.
Your brother, who was there, willingly, hugging you. It was a nice feeling to fall asleep to, you thought as you drifted off. James looked down as your head got heavier, and noticed in your parted lips that you had fallen asleep at some point of your shared silence. He smiled, and helped you get fully into the bed, carefully placing your belongings away.
He made to leave, but you pulled him back, your voice heavy with sleep, “Stay?”
And James, even in his drowsy state, couldn’t fight back the happiness he felt in his heart. He nodded, though you couldn’t see him, and laid next to you, your hands clasped together as you both drifted away holding onto each other, very much like you did once upon a time when you were little.
In your desk, messily thrown along with your things by James, was Pandora’s gift, and a note in neat handwriting that said:
Happy christmas sweet girl. Aquamarine, your birthstone, is said to possess healing properties known to cure even the most devastating of heartbreaks and tame the most powerful oceans into tranquility and peace. It also gives the bearer hope and clarity. Love, Evan and Pandora Rosier.
At Toba aquarium in Japan, after closing time, some clever little otter pups help their grandpa tidy up their toys. As a reward, he gives them ice cubes
from the corner of his eye, lohen notices the way your body starts to slow down. he didn’t think much of it until you laid your head on his shoulder, settling into his warmth. when he hears your breathing turn to soft snores, he realized you had fallen asleep on him. considering the two of you had spent the entire day together, sharing lunches and dinners, going out for hikes and what not, he knew you would hit the hay eventually.
lohen’s heart started to beat faster than ever. he had left his gloves on the table, exposing his bare skin to the cool air. the contrast between the heat of his body and the room made him feel a bit clammy. in order to soothe his palpable excitement, he reaches over to squeeze one of your stuffed animals.
he fears that if he moved an inch, it might disturb the peaceful dream you were having. and he would rather drink acid than wake you. so instead, he takes it out on your rabbit doll, squeezing it by the neck as he takes deep, calm breaths.
you’re too cute.
a little too cute for his own good, as it takes everything inside him not to explode on the spot. his grip tightens around the doll, using it as a makeshift stressball as he slowly closes his eyes. when you brush your nose against his shoulder bone, he struggles to contain his happiness. his cute partner, snuggling up to him after a long day—it couldn’t be anymore perfect.
when you wake up later, seeing your poor doll lose some of its stuffing around its face and neck, you wonder who the culprit may be.
taking several small naps @high-key-misinterperted-that - Tumblr Blog | Tumgag
