summary: on your fifteenth anniversary, sirius and remus gift you and james a photo album that has you gasping in embarrassment in front of harry and closing it with a loud slam. despite that, and the warning on the front page that says 'Harry, if you’re reading this, think again', your son can't help himself. He should have thought again. And again. And maybe perhaps just one more time.
wc: 1.9k+
cw: suggestive themes and two explicit sentences, discussion of inappropriate images, mentions of r! and james having harry before marriage (when they were 18)
Harry Potter loved his family.
Even though he pretended to hurl when his dad whisked you for a kiss that had you swooning long after he pulled away, or pushed you away when you kissed him on the forehead, hugging him for a little too long in front of his friends, Harry could not have asked for better parents.
So when it was your and James’s fifteen year anniversary, Harry didn’t tease about how it seemed mathematically unusual that he was already past the fifteen year old mark. He didn’t take a close look at photos from your wedding, inspecting all of the photos baby Harry was in, curled in his grandparents' arms for most of the night. He didn’t make a comment about how his parents were only thirty three with a grown teenager, relatively younger in comparison to the parents of other kids in his year.
No, Harry did none of that. Instead, he watched fondly as his father held you in his arms on the couch, whispering sweetly to you.
He smiled, mimicking the looks on both his parents’ face. You were curled into James’s chest, staring at your husband with an unbeatable expression of love that only your James himself could out do. James was pressing sweet kisses to your forehead, your cheeks, and the briefest one on your lips before shying away from you. Harry caught glimpses of your youth in these moments; mischievous, affectionate, and definitely a pain to every one of the single friends around you.
The front door slammed open. You and James didn’t even pull away from each other as Sirius Black sauntered into the living room, a grinning Remus Lupin on his heels. Harry furrowed his eyebrows. His godfathers looked like they were up to no good.
“Happy anniversary.” Remus announced, shifting his weight back and forth from the balls to the heels of his feet. “Did you know,” Sirius started, pointing a finger up in the air, “That exactly fifteen years ago today, minus approximately ten minutes, the two of you were having sex?” You laughed in shock, asking “What?” and James pulled you closer to him. Harry grimaced in disgust.
“Yeah, we came to wake you up, said it’s bad luck to see each other on the day of your wedding. Door was locked, you told us it was too late, and we warned you that we would break into the room, but then we heard-”
“Stuff.” Remus cut him off, raising his eyebrows. You felt your cheeks go hot, remembering how your fiancé — back then — had spoken to your best friends while thrusting into you at an unforgivable pace. Your high pitched moan as you orgasmed had thankfully alerted your two friends not to enter the room.
“Don’t know much about bad luck now.” James chuckled, glancing down at you with a grin. “Anyway!” Remus announced, drawing your attention back to the two men. “We made you a little gift.”
“For every time we’ve seen too much!” Furrowing your eyebrows, you looked past your two best friends to glance at your son, sat alone on the couch, not even pretending not to be listening. His face was contorted in repulsion.
Sirius thrusted a thick photo album in front of you, and you shuffled in James’s hold to release your arms from the bundle of limbs you were wrapped in. You gently took the album from Sirius’s hands, smiling softly “Aw, thank you guys.”
“Oh, you won’t be thanking us for long.”
Concern overtook you at Sirius’s words, and you opened the photo book. The first page was blank, apart from writing that said ‘Harry, if you’re reading this, think again.’ James’s chest rumbled with a whole-hearted laugh. You glanced up at your best friends nervously before hooking your finger into the next couple of pages. You turned to a random page in the booklet.
You gasped loudly, immediately shutting the photo album.
The couple in front of you seemed proud with their work, a loud laugh escaping them both despite the horrified look you shot them. James was silent next to you, and you twisted your torso to look at his expression. His eyes were wide, cheeks so red you were sure his glasses would begin fogging up.
“Anyway, we’re going to take Harry out to diagon alley for a couple of hours. For no reason.” But Sirius turned around to wink at you as he left the room with Remus, who slung an arm over his shoulders. Harry wordlessly followed his uncles, shrugging.
He did not want to know what was in that album.
Would be the furthest thing from the truth. He itched to find out. So badly, that when he sipped at a milkshake in diagon alley with his godfathers, he was twitching in a poor attempt not to ask about their gift. So badly, that when he was left alone at home that night while you and James went for dinner, all Harry could think about was sneaking into your room and looking through those pages.
Giving up, Harry pushed himself off his bed, opening the door to his parents’s bedroom with one last look down the corridor. He took in a deep breath; no one was home. Harry briefly took notice to the empty potion vial on your bed side table, wrinkling his nose as he realised what it was. Birth control. Taking a couple of steps closer, Harry peeked into the open drawer, looking for the black leather of the photo album.
It wasn’t there.
He rounded the undone bed to open his dad’s bedside drawer. Bingo. Harry reached for the leather-bound album, fingers curling around the curve of the album’s spine. He leaned back on the wall behind him, sinking down onto the floor. No way was he going to sit down on that bed. Harry flicked open the album, and immediately, his cheeks went red.
His godfathers knew him too well.
‘Harry, if you’re reading this, think again.’ He did, extending his arm to tip the book back into the drawer, before shaking his head and snatching it back. He flipped the page over, and his breath immediately hitched in his throat at the sight. Sirius’s words from his morning echoed in his head; they made sense now. ‘For every time we’ve seen too much!’ The two photos that took up the space of the first page of the book dated back to your time at Hogwarts.
Harry knew you and James began dating within the first month of your fifth year at Hogwarts, but you didn’t look fifteen in this photo. Maybe seventeen, possibly older. But it was hard to tell with the way your faces were hidden. Of course, the images moved – much to Harry’s dismay. In the first photograph, James was carrying you, and your legs were wrapped around his torso, the skirt of your uniform riding up your legs, creasing under James’s hands, which were groping your backside.
You were pressed up against the wall of a dark hallway, your arms tightly wrapped over James’s shoulders, his glasses smushed between your faces as you made out deeply. The image of your tongues flattening against each other was grotesque. Harry had seen his parents make out before – a quick snog when you thought no one was looking. James would tug you closer to him by the wrist, wrapping an arm around your waist when you turned your attention to him.
It was often in the kitchen, if not the backyard, but James would press his lips against yours, and you would part your lips to welcome his tongue into your mouth for a quick, greedy lick against yours. James would pull away, his trousers slightly tighter around his crotch, and you would wipe the space around your lips to conceal any evidence.
But this kiss, in this image, was like nothing he’d seen before. Your body was moving against James with a desperation he hadn’t seen before, his dad’s hips frantically grinding against your centre as he tilted his head to deepen the kiss, your tongues eagerly battling for control over the kiss.
He couldn’t imagine it, but the next photo was much worse, and he instantly regretted not listening to the note on the front. Harry huffed. There should have been a second warning. By looking at the second image, Harry decided that you and James had just turned eighteen. His dad’s hair was had looked to be freshly cut, not long like the previous photo, almost an afro around his head. Here, it was trimmed neatly, curls soft, the stubble on his face barely there. You wore shorts, exposing your legs, and Harry could see that you had the cheeky smiley faced tattoo on your thigh, which you’d admitted to getting on your eighteenth birthday with his dad, Remus and Sirius.
You were clearly at a party in this photo, with drinks littering the kitchen countertop in front of you, both you and James looking like anyone would after hours of partying. One hand on the countertop, the other reaching up into the cupboard over you, you were biting your lip struggling to get something as you stood on your tippy toes. You raised a knee over the side of the counter, top, and just as you were about to push yourself off the ground, a hand rested on your hip, halting your movements.
James pressed his body against yours as he reached above you, arm stretching up higher than yours to grab a bag of chips for you, wedged in the cupboard. James unnecessarily pressed himself onto his tippy toes, stumbling forward as he lost balance, his crotch dragging against your ass before he fell flat on his feet. Your eyebrows raised in the photo, but you smirked, spinning around and looking at James with a slight tilt of your head. James’s face flushed, a shy look overtaking his features as he poorly attempted to maintain confidence.
Harry almost heard your hum as you stared down his father, just a boy in this photo, before your fingers curled around the fabric of his t-shirt, pulling him against you. James’s body pressed against yours and you leaned forward, pressing your lips to his. The bag of chips fell to the floor as both of James’s hands came to rest on your hips, already deepening the kiss with you. It was difficult for Harry to believe that those two teenagers in the image would be having a child that same year. Him.
Just before Harry could witness something he didn’t want to see, the image flashed, and the entire scene repeated itself. That’s enough, Harry decided, but he couldn’t help but wonder what had made his mother gasp so loudly as she shut the photo album. He tried mimicking your earlier movements, fingers dipping past a couple of pages. Triumphantly, he turned these pages over, but the second he caught a glimpse of his dad on his knees, back to the camera, Harry made a disgusted noise, shutting the book with a loud slam.
He scrambled back on his feet, dropping the book in his father’s drawer and closing it before rushing out of the room to return to his bedroom, forgetting that his parents’ bedroom door hadn’t been open when he first came in.
Luckily for him though, you and James were too busy kissing your way up the stairs and into bed to notice the detail.
taglist (tagged both the marauders + golden trio taglist because it's centred around harry and james): @ravisinghs-wife, @amatoanima, @starry-remus, @pain-in-the-ashe, @hiireadstuff, @superlegend216, @treefairy-28, @kitkatkl, @rory-cakes, @juliet-f017, @fl0weryannie, @tiaajosephin, @why-am-i-like-this18, @theoraekenslover, @animalcrossingshameless, @azure-drag0ness, @dream-alittlebiggerdarling, @dearlizzies, @girlontheblock, @matcha-kitty13, @thenasoneshots, @cakiebleh, @ravisinghs-wife, @starry-remus, @pain-in-the-ashe, @hiireadstuff, @treefairy-28, @superlegend216, @kitkatkl, @juliet-017, @fl0weryannie, @tiaajosephin, @dream-alittlebiggerdarling, @dearlizzies, @potterheadlovespotter, @matcha-kitty13, @thenasoneshots
warnings: smut!!, protected p in v, oral (female receiving), fingering, making out, semi public sex (locker room ahh), rough sex, swearing, dirty talk, dominate James, both characters are 18 of course don't be weird.
summary: being on the Quidditch team with James Potter can lead to an entire different kind of work out...
word count: 3.8k
a/n: I'm in another James mood, what can I say? anyway, as I say with all my work, I LOVE THIS!!! trust the process the smut is soooo good. it made me feel so many things as I wrote it. I love the idea of dominate James with emphasis on his muscles and height. so there's a lot of that because sue me I like to imagine his abs and biceps and him being tall. it's not in a height fetish thing though, I'm personally 5'4 so realistically he'd be probably 5'11 or 6 foot. enjoy. if you please. and as always, let me know what you think!!!
~~~
The late afternoon sun cast last shadows across the Quidditch pitch as practice finally began to wind down. You were still catching your breath, broom in hand, watching James bark out final instructions to the team with that easy captain's authority he wore like a second skin. He'd been captain for an entire year now, and he'd proved to be the best choice for the position time and time again. It fit him—it really did.
"Brilliant work today, everyone! Same time Thursday—and Marlene, work on those Bludger returns, yeah?"
Marlene flipped him off with a roll of her eyes, already heading toward the locker rooms with the rest of the team. You lingered, pretending to adjust your gloves while your teammates filed past.
"You coming?" Marlene called over her shoulder.
"In a minute—need to ask James something about Thursday's practice."
She gave you a knowing look that practically screamed, "This again? Really?" You only frowned at her in return and she disappeared into the locker room with a smirk on her face. The pitch emptied out until it was just you and James, the evening air cooling the sweat on your skin.
James turned, catching sight of you still standing there, and that trademark grin spread across his face—the one that had been getting under your skin since fourth year, all confidence and charm and undeniably attractive. "Didn't get enough of me bossing you around for two hours?"
"Glutton for punishment I suppose." You took a few steps toward him, trying to ignore how good he looked all windswept and flushed from practice. "I just wanted to check—Thursday's practice, are we running the same offensive formations or trying something new?"
"Probably mixing it up a bit, our game against Hufflepuff is approaching faster than you think. We must be prepared in all aspects." He shifted his broom to his other hand, stepping closer. He was tall enough that you had to tilt your head back slightly to maintain eye contact, and you'd never quite gotten used to it. He used to be inches shorter than you—and now he made you feel small. "Why, worried you can't keep up?"
His eyes glinted with challenge, hazel catching the last remaining light from the sky, and there it was—that thing that had been happening between you two for months. Perhaps longer. The loaded looks, the comments that could be innocent but never quite were.
"Please. I could fly circles around you, Potter."
"Big talk from someone who nearly got knocked off their broom by a rogue Bludger today." He was close enough now that you could see the freckles scattered across his nose, smell the grass and sweat and something so distinctly him.
"That was a strategic dodge."
"That was you shrieking and swerving." His grin widened, devastating and infuriating in equal measure.
"I don't shriek."
"You absolutely shriek. It's cute."
"Cute?" You shoved his shoulder—solid muscle under your palm, warm even through the fabric—and he laughed, the sound low and rich. His hand came up to catch your wrist, fingers wrapping around it easily, and for a moment you both just stood there.
This had been happening more and more lately. All your friends teased you about it—the touches that lasted a beat too long, the way he'd lean into your space whenever you hung out, how the two of you would stare at each other across the room. Marlene placed a bet that the two of you would shag before the end of the term—Lily, Mary, Sirius, Remus, and Peter all joined in on it.
You thought it was silly. You and James were just friends. Sure, the two of you flirted from time to time, but it was nothing more than that. Just two attractive friends who enjoyed playfully flirting.
That was all it was.
"Yeah, cute," he said, pulling you out of your thoughts. His voice had dropped lower slightly, and his eyes did that thing where they dipped to your mouth for just a second before flicking back up. "You've got this little competitive streak that's—"
"That's what?" You stepped closer, emboldened by the way his grip on your wrist had tightened.
"Distracting." The word came out rougher than you think he meant it to. "You're distracting as hell, actually."
Your breath caught. This was further than you'd ever pushed it, past the plausible deniability you'd both been hiding behind.
"James—"
"I'll have a better plan laid out by Thursday," he said, but he still didn't let go of your wrist, didn't step back. If anything, he swayed slightly closer, and you could see the way his chest rose and fell, the hollow of his throat, the muscle shifting in his shoulders. "You can come early if you want to go over it. Private session."
The way he said "private session" should've been illegal. The way he was looking at you definitely was for two people who were just friends.
"I'll think about it," you managed, proud of how steady your voice sounded in such a moment.
"You do that." His thumb stroked once across the inside of your wrist before he released you, and the loss of contact felt more devastating than it should've. He shouldered his broom, muscles flexing with the movement, and you absolutely did not stare at the way his practice robes stretched up just enough to expose his lower abdomen. "I'm going to hit the showers. Unless you have more questions?"
So many questions, you thought, but none of them appropriate for the middle of the Quidditch pitch.
"No, that's—I'm alright."
He held your gaze for another beat too long, something unreadable flickering in his hazel eyes, and you saw the exact moment he decided not to say whatever he was thinking. His jaw tightened, and then he turned toward the locker rooms, and you couldn't help but watch him go—the confidence in his stride, the way he moved like he owned every space he walked into. It was one of the many things you admired about him.
You let out a breath you didn't know you were holding and forced yourself to head toward the female changing rooms.
It would be a lie to say you hadn't thought about shagging him. But who hadn't thought about shagging James Potter? He was beyond attractive, kind, charming, and confident in a way that wasn't annoying. However, thinking about shagging him and actually doing it were two completely different things. You were content with simply flirting and never doing anything about it, at least, that's what you told yourself.
Once you got to the changing room though, you realized you'd left your wand in the equipment shed.
"Fuck," you muttered, turning back.
The shed was near the male locker rooms, and you were in and out quickly, wand retrieved. You were passing the locker room entrance when you heard the sound of running water.
You should keep walking.
You should absolutely keep walking.
But your feet stopped, and before you could even talk yourself out of it, you were pushing open the door.
The locker room was empty, steam curling from the shower area in the back. Your heart hammered against your ribs as you moved closer.
What are you doing? This is completely wrong and if you were caught surely you'd be given detention and—
Oh.
James stood under the spray of one of the shower heads, his head tilted back, water cascading down the planes of his body. His eyes were closed, one hand braced against the tile wall, and he was completely, gloriously naked.
He looked like something out of a fantasy. The shower made his height even more apparent—he was tall enough that the spray his him square in the chest before running down in rivulets over golden-tan skin that seemed to glow under the warm lighting. Years of Quidditch had carved definition into every inch of him: broad shoulders that tapered to a lean, muscled chest, water streaming down the ridged of his abs, catching in the defined V of his hips before trailing lower.
A dropplet traced the line of his collarbone, slid down between his pecs, followed the path of dark hair below his navel. You couldn't look away. Couldn't breathe. You mouth went dry as you watched the water slide over the curve of his shoulders, down the strong line of his spine, over the muscles of his back.
You must have made a sound, because his eyes snapped open suddenly.
For a moment, neither of you moved. The water streamed down his face, his chest, and his gaze locked onto yours with an intensity that stole your breath more than the sight of him already had.
"Forgot something?" His voice was rough, deeper than usual.
"I—my wand. In the shed. I was just—" You gestured vaguely, unable to look away from him.
"And you just happened to wander into the men's locker room?"
"The door was unlocked."
"Was it?" He didn't move to cover himself, didn't look embarrassed. If anything, he looked pleased. "See something you like?"
You could've fainted. "James—"
"Because I've got to tell you," he continued, pushing off the wall and stepping forward, "the way you're looking at me right now? That's how I've been looking at you for months."
"You have?"
"Are you joking?" He laughed, low and a little incredulous. "You're killing me. Every practice, every time you bite your lip when you're concentrating, every time you give me shit with that smart mouth of yours—"
"My mouth isn't that smart."
"It's fucking brilliant." He was at the edge of the shower now, close enough that you could see water droplets clinging to his eyes lashes. "Tell me to stop."
"Stop what?"
"This." He reached out, fingers curling around your wrist the same way they had merely half an hour prior, tugging you closer. "Tell me you don't want this and I'll back off. We'll forget this happened, go back to being the friends that flirt shamelessly and never do anything about it."
Your Quidditch gear was still on, and you were definitely getting wet from the shower spray, but you couldn't bring yourself to care. "And if I don't tell you to stop?"
His grip tightened. "Then get in here."
You went without a second thought.
He pulled you under the water fully clothed, and then his mouth was on yours, hot and demanding. You gasped against his lips, and he took advantage, deepening the kiss until you were dizzy with it. His hands found your hips, pulling you flush against him, and oh—you could feel exactly how much he wanted this.
"You're wearing too many clothes," he muttered against your mouth.
"Whose fault is that?"
He grinned, wicked and sharp, and started working on the fastenings of your Quidditch robes. You helped, fumbling with the clasps until the heavy fabric fell away. Your shirt followed, then your bra, and James made a sound low in his throat that sent heat straight to your core.
"Fuck, look at you." His hands skimmed up your sides, thumbs brushing the underside of your breasts. "You're so gorgeous. Do you have any idea—"
You kissed him again, unable to wait, and he responded with enthusiasm, backing you against the tile wall. The cold tile against your back contrasted sharply with the heat of his body, the warm water, and you arched into him.
His mouth left yours to trail down your neck, teeth grazing your pulse point. "Tell me what you want."
"You," you breathed. "I want you."
"More specific." He nipped at your collarbone, hands sliding down to work on your pants. "I've been fantasizing about this for months. Want to make sure I get it right."
"James—"
"Come on, use that smart mouth." He dropped to his knees, looking up at you as he pulled your pants and underwear down in one swift motion. The sight of him kneeling in front of you, water streaming down his back, eyes dark with want—it was almost too much. Even on his knees he was tall, his head level with your hips, and the view was devastating.
"I want your mouth," you managed. "And then I want you inside me."
"I like the way you think." He lifted one of your legs over his shoulder—the strength in that casual movement making your breath catch—and then his mouth was on you.
You cried out, head falling back against the tile as his tongue worked over you with devastating precision. Your hands found his hair, wet and thick between your fingers, the solid presence of him between your thighs. He was enthusiastic and skilled, alternating between broad strokes and focused attention on your clit until you were shaking. The muscles in his shoulders bunched and shifted as he held you steady, his grip firm and possessive on your thighs.
"James, oh Merlin—"
He hummed against you, the vibration making your hips buck. His hands gripped your thighs even harder, and you felt the strength in those fingers, the controlled power as he held you exactly where he wanted you. When he slid two fingers inside you, curling them just right, you practically whimpered. You caught glimpses of the flex of his forearm, tan skin slick with water, the definition of muscle and tendon working as he pumped his fingers.
If he weren't half as strong as he was, you would've collapsed by now. The feeling of his fingers mixed with his tongue was overwhelming in the best way possible. You pulled his hair, your whole body shaking as you felt yourself getting closer and closer to that peak you knew he was determined to get you to.
"That's it," he murmured, pulling back just enough to speak. "I want to feel you cum on my tongue."
Then, as if his words weren't enough, he sealed his lips around your clit and sucked, fingers pumping at the perfect pace. You couldn't take it any longer, and you felt yourself come undone. The orgasm rolled through in waves, and he worked you through it, only stopping when you tugged weakly at his hair.
He stood in one fluid motion—all that height unfolding—and kissed you deeply. You could taste yourself on his tongue, feel the hard planes of his body pressed against yours, every inch warm and perfect. His chest was firm against your breasts, and you could feel his heart hammering, the rise and fall of his breathing.
"You okay?"
"More than okay."
You reached down between your bodies, wrapping your hand around his cock. He was hard and thick, and when you stroked him, he groaned into your mouth, his hips jerking forward. You felt his abs contract against your arm, watched his jaw clench, the muscles in his neck standing out.
"I need you," you mumbled.
"Hang on—do you—are you on anything? I don't have—"
"Contraceptive charm," you assured him. "I'm good. Clean too."
"Thank fuck." He lifted you easily—and Merlin, the casual display of strength made you clench around nothing— your legs wrapping around his waist as he positioned himself at your entrance. His hands gripped your ass, fingers digging into your flesh, and you could feel the flex of his biceps, the bunch of his shoulders as he held your entire weight like it was nothing. The wall supported your back, but it was James holding you up. "Ready?"
"Please."
He pushed in slowly, and you both moaned at the sensation. He was big, the stretch just on the edge of too much, but your body adjusted, taking him deeper. This close, you could see everything: the way his pupils dilated, the flush spreading across his cheekbones, the small scar on his collarbone. His chest heaved against yours, slick skin sliding together, and you felt the tremor in his arms as he held himself still to let you adjust.
"Merlin, you feel incredible," he whispered, forehead pressed against yours. "So tight and perfect."
"Move," you demanded. "James, please move."
He did, pulling almost all the way out before thrusting back in. The angle was perfect, hitting that spot inside you that made you gasp. His hips were powerful—of course they were—and you felt the strength in every movement—controlled and deliberate and overwhelming. He set a steady rhythm, and you continued to watch the way his muscles moved. His shoulders, his arms, the way his abs contracted with each snap of his hips. Sweat mixed with water on his skin, making him glisten, and you didn't dare look away from the sight of him—tall and powerful and completely focused on you.
"This what you wanted?" he asked, voice strained. "When you walked in here and saw me?"
"Yes," you admitted, your eyes squeezing shut at the sound of his voice. "Wanted you to fuck me just like this."
He groaned, pace increasing, and the increased force made you whimper. Your thighs clenched around him, your nails scraped down the back of his neck, and you threw your head back as the sensation of him fucking you took you over entirely. His arms began to tremble slightly with the effort of holding you up and fucking you at the same time. You'd never seen—felt—James Potter so utterly uncontrolled. It was magnificent.
"You're going to be the death of me," he murmured, his breathing ragged. "So fucking hot, taking my cock so well."
The dirty talk combined with the relentless thrust of his hips was driving you toward another orgasm embarrassingly fast. You clung to his shoulders tighter, feeling the bunch and release of muscle beneath your palms with every movement.
"Touch yourself," he commanded, voice rough. "Feeling you cum on my tongue wasn't enough. Want to feel you cum around me."
You let out a shaky breath and slid a hand between your bodies, fingers finding your clit. The added stimulation made you clench around him, and he cursed, rhythm faltering. You felt his whole body tense, watched his eyes squeeze shut for a moment before snapping back open, dark and intense and locked on your face.
"That's is, just like that. Fuck, you're close, aren't you? I can feel you getting tighter."
"James—"
"Cum for me," he urged, angling his hips again to go even deeper. You saw the strain in his expression, he wanted—needed—to feel you fall apart. The proof was on his face, and it only got you closer to that peak. "Cum on my cock, let me feel it Y/N."
You did, the orgasm hitting you like lightning. Your whole body tensed, inner walls pulsing around him, and you practically screamed his name. He followed you over the edge with an equally loud moan, hips stuttering as he spilled inside you. You watched his face contort with pleasure, his head falling back to expose the long line of his throat, his arms as he held you through it, his whole body shuddering with release.
For a long moment, you just held each other under the still running water, both catching your breath. Finally, James carefully lowered you back to your feet, keeping an arm around your waist until your legs stopped shaking.
"So," he said, pushing wet hair back from your face with a grin that was pure satisfied male. "Thursday's practice?"
You laughed, swatting his chest. "You're terrible."
"You like it." He leaned down and kissed you, softer this time. "Stay. We can actually shower, and then maybe we can continue this conversation somewhere more comfortable?"
"Your dorm?"
"My dorm," he confirmed. "I've got a lot more ideas about what to do with that smart mouth of yours."
"Oh really?"
His grin turned wicked, hand sliding down to squeeze your ass. "Really. That was just the warm-up."
"Warm-up?" You were still catching your breath, legs still a bit shaky, and he had the audacity to look completely smug about it. "You're insatiable."
"You say that as if you're complaining." He pressed a kiss to your jaw, then your neck. "But I felt how you clenched around me, so I know you're not."
Heat flooded through you again despite having just came. "Cocky."
"Confident," he corrected, pulling back to look at you with those hazel eyes that were even more devastating post-orgasm. "And you love it. You've been eye-fucking me for months—don't think I haven't noticed."
"Please, you're the one who confessed to looking at me that way before..."
"Before I fucked you senselessly? Obviously." His thumb traced your bottom lip. "You're gorgeous. Been wanting to get my hands on you since the start of term. Maybe longer."
The admission sent a thrill through you—so you truly hadn't been the only one thinking about shagging. "So what took you so long?"
"Didn't want to make practice or being friends awkward if you turned me down." He kissed you again, slow and deep. "But now that I know you want this too? We've got a lot of time to make up for."
"Is that what we're doing in your dorm? Making up for lost time?"
"Among other things." His hand settled on one of your hips. "I've barely gotten started with you. Still need to find out what other sounds I can get you to make."
Your breath hitched. "James—"
"See? Like that." He looked entirely too pleased with himself. "Come on, let's actually get clean so I can get you dirty again in my tower."
You laughed again, shoving his chest even as heat pooled low in your stomach. "You're so ridiculous."
"I know."
He reached for the shampoo, and you let him wash your hair with surprisingly gentle fingers, though his eyes stayed dark with promise the entire time. When he soaped down your body, his touched were deliberately teasing—lingering in places that made you gasp, smirking when you squirmed.
"You're going to be the death of me," you muttered.
"What a way to go." He rinsed you off, then himself, and grabbed towels from the rack. "Come on. My dorm. Now. Before I fuck you against these tiles instead."
"So impatient."
"You have no idea." He dried off quickly, tossed you your clothes, and watched with obvious appreciation as you dressed. "Thursday's practice is going to be torture now that I know what you look like when you cum."
"Guess you'll have to focus on Quidditch strategy instead of me."
His grin was absolutely sinful. "Not a chance."
As the two of you made your way back to the castle, the promise of what to come making you both giddy as if it were Christmas morning, you thought about how many Galleons Marlene was going to make from the bet.
So reader is one of the Slytherin chasers and she gets hurt on one of the Slytherin vs Gryffindor matches (maybe just a sprained wrist, or a concussion, whatever you prefer is good!) and imagine just the two captains losing their cool, its either funny or very chaotic or both, really just craving hurt and comfort
it's so funny because keke and I were talking about this dynamic not too long ago. I fiddled around with the positions etc, hope you don't mind! so glad to have you back mimi 🫶
poly!jegulus x fem!reader who plays keeper for the Slytherin team
It was very clear that Regulus was stressed. You knew he didn’t like having to call you up to play.
“Quidditch players play dirty, amour. Have you seen Barty out there?” he had urged you, earning him a roll of your eyes.
“Good thing I’m not playing against Barty then, huh?”
“Yeah, but you’re playing against the players that are playing against Barty; they’re going to go for blood.”
But this was your job as a reserve player. The Slytherin keeper had a case of mumblemumps and was currently on bedrest, meaning it was your turn to step onto the field.
Regulus had ‘double checked’ your equipment for the sixth time before you swatted him away.
“I’m okay, Reg. I’ve played before, yeah?”
Regulus sighed and looked into your eyes imploringly. “Do not take any unnecessary risks, okay? Especially against those animals.” He muttered.
You snorted a laugh. “You do realise we’re playing our boyfriend, yeah? The captain of those ‘animals’?”
Regulus levelled you with a glare. “Exactly.”
You opted to ignore Regulus’ worried ramblings in French and hyped yourself up for the game. Regulus had been hoping that the keeper would pull through in time for the game and was only willing to call you up a mere twenty minutes ago, meaning you hadn’t been mentally prepared for this.
Perhaps more importantly, neither had James
“WHAT IN THE BUGGERING FUCK IS SHE DOING OUT HERE!?” You heard James shout as he marched over to the Slytherin’s on the pitch, earning him a warning from Madame Hooch.
“Crawley is still in the infirmary.” You explained simply as James made it to you and began fussing with your equipment and uniform in much the same way Regulus had already.
“So what? He’s got swollen glands and a case of the mumbles, he can play sodding quidditch.” He muttered, tightening your elbow pads to almost painful lengths.
“Okay, James, enough.” You began shoving at him, but Regulus came to your defence.
“I’ve already done all that, James.” He sighed, sounding equally as disturbed about this as James did.
“I don’t like it. Maybe we should forfeit?” James mused aloud, earning him a horrified outcry from Marlene and Sirius.
“Like hell we’re forfeiting just because your girlfriend is playing, Prongs!” Sirius shouted at the same time as Marlene cried “I know she’s got a pretty face, but this is quidditch, Potter!”
“You never get this worked up over playing against Black, Potter.” Barty goaded from behind you, earning him a dark glare from Regulus.
“That’s because he’s busy looking for the snitch and well out of the action, Junior.” James sneered back before returning his eyes back to you. “Oh, my poor girl.”
You groaned and stepped away from the boys at that. “This is ridiculous, let’s sodding play!”
With an unnecessary amount of reluctance on his part, James stalked back off towards his team as everyone got into formation for the whistle.
The game was as fast-paced and intense as any game was against Slytherin and Gryffindor; the intense and deep-rooted rivalry causing the air to crackle with electricity.
As was predicted by anyone and everyone who knew Barty Crouch Junior, he was one lunatic of a beater, lobbing the bludgers at the opposing players with an unnecessary amount of force. The chasers on the other team seemed to be taking that in stride for the most part, save McLaggen who appeared to take each hit personally.
Any anxiety you had prior to the game melted away with the ease and familiarity of your broom beneath you and the rhythm of swatting quaffles away from your goal posts. Though James talked a big game of you being in “the thick of it”, keepers were the only players allowed within the vicinity of the goal posts, contributing to a certain amount of protection for those in your position.
Unfortunately, the seventh time McLaggen was hit by one of Barty’s bludgers seemed to be the undoing of this so-far fair-played game.
In a manner that seemed to be fueled by pure rage, McLaggen managed to bypass Barty and the other Slytherin beater, and beelined it for you. You would have been impressed by his skills and quick manoeuvres on his broom but you realised too late that he had nearly made it all the way over to you.
“Oi! Stay out of my zone!” You called at him, alerting the chaser’s presence to Barty.
With little more than a twist of his broom, Barty was barrelling his way towards you and aiming a bludger for McLaggen. You were slowly backing up towards your posts in an attempt to stay in position to block McLaggen’s quaffle whilst also trying to stay out of the way of his broom when he suddenly dropped altitude as soon as Barty’s bludger left his hand.
You looked down as he smiled up at you, realising too late what that meant for you.
Suddenly, your vision went black as the bludger made impact with the crown of your head, and you tasted iron as the wind ripped violently through your hair.
You could hear shouting and swearing, suddenly aware that you no longer had your broom under you; you were freefalling.
Still without sight, you had only seconds to brace yourself before you made impact with the hard ground below you.
Your lungs were being squeezed by a large fist within your chest and your ears were ringing something fierce.
There was warmth; warmth on your head, by your ear, trailing down your neck. It felt good against the wind that had accosted you moments earlier.
There was pressure at your collar bone, and deep within your chest.
The pressure became too much.
You took a gaping breath and with that, the ringing in your ears made way for the chaos surrounding you to permeate your consciousness.
“Okay, okay. Okay, good; good job amour, keep breathing. You’re okay, okay? Okay, you’re okay.” You heard Regulus chant, his voice taut with emotions. “Breathe amour, breathe.”
You took a few more gasping breaths and tore your eyes open, realising then that the lack of sight wasn’t due to inability, but rather your body’s unwillingness.
“Hi, hi amour. You’re okay.” Regulus said breathlessly, his eyes scanning between the two of yours before flitting up to something above you.
Your hearing was still fuzzy but you could hear something happening out of your line of sight.
“Yelling.” You choked out, coughing through the pain of having had the wind knocked out of your mere moments ago.
“WHAT THE FUCK WERE YOU THINKING, MCLAGGEN? THE KEEPER ZONES ARE OFF FUCKING LIMITS.”
“It’s okay, amour. Don’t worry about that, just keep breathing for me, okay?” Regulus urged, placing a gentle hand on the juncture of your neck and shoulder causing you to wince in pain.
“Mr. Potter, you need to calm down.” Madame Hooch could be heard from behind you.
“I’ll do no such thing! He fucking orchestrated that! YOU LET YOUR BEATERS TAKE CARE OF OTHER BOTHERSOME BEATERS! YOU’VE BEEN PLAYING QUIDDITCH FOR SODDING YEARS, YOU KNOW WHAT JUNIOR IS LIKE.”
“Oi! Get your fucking hands off of me!”
“You’re off the team. You’re DONE. Get the fuck out of my sight.”
You heard what sounded like McLaggen storm off towards the locker rooms as Madame Hooch let out a sigh.
“The game is a draw, Slytherin is forced to forfeit with no keeper. Everyone off the pitch.” She droned in monotone.
“Jamie.” You whimpered, your sinuses suddenly swelling painfully.
“Hey! Hey babylove, I’m here.” He said quickly, quietly, gently; his voice a dramatic change from the way he’d been speaking to his team moments ago.
“I’m okay.” You stated, though it sounded more like a question with the way your voice tilted upwards at the end.
“Of course you are, you’re such a strong girl.” He agreed readily, offering you a sad smile. You chuckled self-deprecatingly and lifted your hand to wipe your tears as they trailed into your hairline, grimacing when your hand came back bloody.
“Just a bump, yeah?” James said lightly, causing Regulus to sniffle.
“I think she hurt her collarbone too.” He whispered as if speaking any louder would cause his voice to break and the tears to fall.
“Okay, alright.” James said as Madame Pomfrey arrived with a gurney. “Head injury and possibly injured collarbone.” He relayed to the matron.
“Thank you, Mr. Potter. Mr. Black, I’ll take over now; please step aside.”
But Regulus didn’t seem able to let go.
“Mr. Black.”
“Come on, Reggie. We’ll follow her up, yeah?” James tried gently, pulling at Regulus’ shoulder so that the matron could levitate you onto the gurney.
“We’re right behind you, okay sweetheart?” James called after you as he held Regulus to his side, and you let unconsciousness pull at you with the knowledge that they were following you back to the castle.
“I’m going to fucking kill him, Pads. I’m going to skin him alive and put his head on a spike on the Gryffindor stadium.”
You heard Sirius chuckle at the sound of James’ dramatics, though he never bothered to argue with his mate.
“How is it that you’re such a lover boy and my brother is such a gremlin; but anything happens to her and the two of you trade personalities?” Sirius taunted. You heard a shuffle, a grunt, and then an ‘oi!’ before the sound of Remus’ voice permeated the infirmary.
“Alright, alright. Pads, get off your brother.”
“And then, and then! I’m going to mail his ear to his mother with a note saying “you raised a fucking wanker”.” James continued as if no one had said a word.
“Y/N?” You heard Remus ask, causing the shuffling of your boyfriend and his brother, and the musings of your other boyfriend to come to a halt as they waited with bated breath for you to open your eyes.
“There she is.” James sighed in relief as his eyes met yours, his smile only at a fraction of its usual wattage, though it was still enough to brighten up the grim infirmary.
“Hi.” You croaked, wincing as your stretch was impeded by a sling on your arm.
“No, don’t.” Regulus whispered, brushing your elbow with a touch that was barely there. “Madame Pomfrey reset your collarbone, you’ll be in the sling for a few weeks.” He explained.
“Gives us all the more of an excuse to fuss over you, yeah?” James offered, clearly trying to keep spirits up.
Though you knew James was likely just as worked up about your injury as Regulus currently was (if not more, if his threats of murder and mutilation were anything to go off of), he was making an effort to be strong for both of your sake’s.
“Reggie, I’m okay.” You pressed, taking Regulus’ hand in yours that wasn’t currently pressed to your side.
“I know.” He whispered back.
“So are you.”
Regulus’ face crumpled at that and he slowly lowered his head to rest on your abdomen.
“Glad to see you up and at’em, Y/N.” Rem smiled at you as Sirius shot you a wink before patting Regulus on the shoulder and leaving the three of you some privacy.
“Reggie, babe.” James murmured, moving to stand behind Regulus and rub at his shoulders soothingly. “You’re going to get tears and snot all over our poor girl’s jumper.”
“Sod off.” Regulus mumbled into your stomach, causing you and James to chuckle.
Regulus’ head popped up at that, and he looked at you shyly from red rimmed eyes behind black curls falling over his forehead.
“You promise me you’re okay?” He whispered, rubbing his thumb back-and-forth over your knuckles.
You nodded and offered him a small smile.
Regulus sighed and sat up, rubbing at his face. “Good.” He said simply as he stood.
“I’ve got a Gryffindor to kill.”
He placed a gentle kiss to your temple and stalked out of the infirmary before your horrified glance moved to James who stood passively at the end of your bed.
“James!?” You asked, gesturing with your good arm towards the entrance.
James shook his head and waved you off. “Don’t worry; Pad’s and Moony are on watch out there. We knew once you woke up he’d be on a warpath.”
You let out a surprised laugh as James casually took Regulus’ vacated seat beside you and picked up your good hand.
“You sure you’re okay?”
“Just sore.” You offered with a nod.
“Well, I don’t like that you got hurt, but I do like getting to take care of you.” He said salaciously, pressing a kiss to the back of your hand.
You shared a soft smile with James before you heard screeching.
“I need a healer!”
James brows furrowed as he turned to see 1) McLaggen holding a jumper to his face leaving a trail of blood droplets behind him and 2) Regulus, Sirius, and Remus walking back towards your bed far too nonchalantly for your liking.
“You were supposed to stop him!” James shouted at Sirius as he gestured to Regulus.
Sirius smirked. “Oh, we did.”
James let out a surprised scoff. “Then how’d he manage to maim McLaggen?”
“I didn’t have to.” Regulus replied simply, sitting on the end of your bed and pulling your feet into his lap as he massaged them through the blankets. “Barty got to him first.”
It's been so long since we've read a good James x Slytherin reader. Especially if they went from enemies to lovers and my favorite authors wrote it.
Ah, that would be so wonderful!!
Cora! ❤︎ I hope this scratches the itch (sorry it took so long) ❤︎ I believe I'm getting better at writing James and having another 10K+ word fic about him doesn't hurt. ❤︎ This was def more reader/James based and it's weird to not have many 4/4 Marauder interactions. Whatevs ❤︎
Hope y'all enjoy ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎
Power of a bonbon
James Potter x Slytherin!fem!reader
13.5k words
cw: enemies-to-lovers, typical Slytherin/Gryffindor hatred dynamic, allusions to sexual activities, unwanted advances, little bit of pining, some fluff, ig angst if you squint
There were few truly great Hogwarts mysteries left. Most things could be explained with magic and everyone just went with it.
The hatred that you and James Potter had for each other? No one knew.
James hated all Slytherins. That was understood. But what he harbored towards you was on a whole other level. It was known within two weeks of your first year that you two could not be sat next to each other nor paired with each other.
You didn’t hate all Gryffindors. You didn’t hate all pure bloods. You didn’t hate all quidditch players. You didn’t hate glasses or obnoxiously cocky people. You simply hated James for breathing and no one could figure out why him specifically.
“Wow, they really let anyone into N.E.W.T. potions, huh,” you said, mainly to Dorcas, as James walked in with Sirius. “I suppose daddy dearest might’ve donated a pretty galleon to the school.”
James didn’t say anything until he sat down. “All rattle and no venom.”
“And he wishes I’d bite him,” you retorted.
Dorcas laughed along with a few other students who had heard you.
Someone behind you explained it to whomever they were sitting with. “Snakes usually have to bite to inject venom, but it’s also a kinky thing. Like a sex thing.”
You raised your hand to your mouth to hide your laughter. Professor Slughorn chose that moment to exit his office and start class.
The beginning of sixth year had you hoping you’d have minimal classes with James. Less classes with his friends would be cool too, but avoiding James was your top priority. As you went through that first week, your schedules were revealed to be inconveniently similar. Whatever higher power there was hated you. It wanted to see you suffer.
By the weekend, the whole Slytherin Common Room knew about your predicament; you had whined about it several times.
“I can make him disappear for you, sweetheart,” Wilkes said, leaning forward slightly as he stood with you and your friends.
You squished his cheeks with one of your hands. “Thank you, but then you’d get in trouble with old Dumbledore, because he loves the Gryffindors, and we can’t be having that.”
He chuckled and removed your hand from his face.
“If you change your mind-”
“I know where you sleep. Don’t worry.”
“You can always visit me there, even if you don’t change your mind,” Wilkes said with a wink.
“I’ll… keep that in mind,” you said before turning away from him and looking at Dorcas with wide eyes.
You would laugh about that later in your dorm. He had started slightly flirting with you last year, but it was nothing too direct or even actually asking you out. It was simply an announcement of interest. An invite to his bed was quite a jump.
“Do you feel woo-ed? Swept off your feet?” Dorcas asked through her giggles.
“I feel like he’ll ask for my hand by the end of the year, even if I never step foot in his room,” you said heartily.
“I can see if Evan knows if his parents are trying to set him up with anyone. If not…” Pandora said from where she was laying on her bed, “that could be a real possibility.”
“We’ll see what he’s saying after Christmas,” you laughed.
If Pandora asked Evan, he could bring it up to Wilkes that your friend was asking about his marital status and that would let him think you were interested when you weren’t, not really. But things could change over the length of a term. Maybe if he asked you out and was a decent date. As things stood at that moment, you were as likely to go on a date with him as you were with James.
Wilkes’ comments were about as frequent as they were in the spring, although they were more bold – like his invitation to his room. He wasn’t the only one to flirt with you. Avery and Mulciber also said suggestive things to you. A Ravenclaw properly flirted with you in a more polite, let-me-get-to-know-you kind of way. A fifth year Gryffindor dared to ask you out; you declined.
“I can’t wait for the first party,” Dorcas said one evening in the common room. “You’re going to be snogging some bloke in the corner and it’ll be the gossip of the school.”
“Why would that be exciting for you?” you asked.
“You could use a good snog. You’ve kissed, what, one guy? That Hufflepuff last year who dropped the card during Suck ‘n’ Blow?”
“I stand by what I said. He did that on purpose,” Pandora chimed in.
You rolled your eyes. “Yes, because that seventh year wanted to kiss a little fifth year.”
“He didn’t pull away! I swear he leaned in!”
“He was drinking firewhiskey.”
“I think my point still stands.”
“A halfway pretty girl and alcohol can make a bloke do a lot of things,” you said.
“Halfway pretty?” Dorcas laughed. “One second!” She held up a finger and then turned to where some boys were sitting on the other side of the room. “Oi! Is Y/N halfway pretty?”
“Bloody gorgeous, and she’d be perfect on my dick,” Mulciber said.
Others nodded in agreement. Wilkes made a similarly vulgar comment.
“Gross but proved my point,” Dorcas said, turning back to you.
“I blossomed over the summer,” you said as you crossed your arms and leaned back into the couch. “Of course those horndogs are going to say I’m pretty if it increases the slim chances they’ll ever get laid.”
“You blossomed in third year,” Pandora said matter-of-factly.
You and Dorcas both stared at her.
“What? I have a brother. And I may have heard things.”
By the end of the month, five different guys – not including the fifth year Gryffindor – had asked you out. You turned them down with an “I’m not looking for anything serious.” Most of them turned away, disappointed with your answer. All except Barty Crouch Jr. from the year below you.
“Good thing I’m not either,” he said.
You raised your eyebrows slightly.
“I’m looking for something fun and…” He gave you an obvious once over. “You look like fun.”
You returned his once over with a smirk. “Better question is are you?”
That’s how you ended up in a broom closet with him. He was also the one you spent most of the first Slytherin party swapping spit with. With how you acted around each other in between and after, it was clear that it was simply fun. There were no strings. No commitments. No feelings.
In the span of that same month, your foot got stuck in a false step, your bag ripped at the seam and all of your ink pots were suddenly spotless. Not just empty, spotless. It wasn’t like the ink had spilled or dried out, or you forgot to get a refill. Each pot was pristine. It was so clearly done on purpose and you knew there was no one else to blame besides James. You had no proof of it but you knew. You did have proof that he tripped you and stole your Charms notes.
You were, however, the reason all of his cloaks were six inches too short and all of the covers on his textbooks were swapped. A few doors slammed shut by themselves in his face. You also ensured that he was insulted at least once a day. His looks, personality, family, intelligence, excuse of humor. Anything about him was fair game as far as you were concerned. It was practically a miracle you weren’t at each other’s throats with wands drawn.
“Y/N, you got a minute?” someone asked as you made your way from the library back to your common room.
You turned to see a seventh year Hufflepuff walking toward you with an easy smile and confident air about him. You had a good feeling about what he was going to say. At least the general idea of it. He was going to say that you were pretty and smart and he wanted to take you out sometime. You prepared to tell him that you weren’t interested.
“You’re not seeing that Crouch kid, right?” he asked.
Apparently word about who you were snogging had traveled a little bit.
“Nope,” you said, popping the ‘p’. “He’s just a good snog, you know?”
“Well, I wouldn’t know. I’ll take your word for it though.” He reached out and brushed his knuckles against the side of your arm. “What about you?”
“What about me?” you repeated with a tilt of your head.
“Are you a good snog?”
That got a short laugh out of you. “How would I know that? I can’t very well snog myself.”
“Crouch didn’t tell you? That’s not very considerate of him. I think a lady ought to know. How about this – you come down to my dorm and I’ll tell you how you do.”
You rolled your eyes. Your gut told you this was a joke, just a guy trying his hand at what he knew was a long short.
“I think I’ll be going back to my own dorm. Alone,” you said. “Thanks for the offer.”
You started walking, but the hand that had been brushing against your arm grabbed it. Your immediate reaction was to pull out of his hand, but he had a tight grip.
“I could come to your dorm. I don’t mind.”
His smile shifted from sweet to something that put a stone in your stomach. You tried pulling away to no avail.
“I don’t care if you mind. I mind.”
“Come on, don’t play hard to get.” His other hand reached for your other arm’s elbow. “We don’t even have to go back to a dorm if that’s what’s stopping you. Plenty of broom closets between here and there. Empty classrooms. You can have your pick.”
You kept trying to move away from him. Your wand was at the bottom of your bag and you knew you couldn’t grab it without him stopping you. This Hufflepuff was too strong.
“My pick is not you,” you hissed.
“I’m better than Crouch. You’ll see,” he said, forcing your body to turn toward him and then leaning in.
You didn’t see James appear. Not until the Hufflepuff was pulled off of you and pushed to the side.
“Bugger off, Knighton,” James said firmly.
When the Hufflepuff didn’t leave right away, James gave his shoulder a shove.
“Go,” James said.
Knighton looked annoyed but left. Then James turned to you.
“You alright?” he asked in a hushed voice.
You hesitated before answering, taking a moment to adjust your bag on your shoulder. You reached into it to grab your wand. If that was how boys were going to be in the corridors, you’d need to be better prepared.
“I’m fine. Thanks.”
Of all the people to show up and stop Knighton, why did it have to be James? He probably thought that you owed him now, that you were in his debt. You’d rather be in anyone else’s debt but his.
You were visibly flustered when you got back to the common room. No one said anything as you went straight to your dorm. Barty saw you go but didn’t even consider asking Pandora if you were alright. There wasn’t anything between you two. The pretty girl he had been kissing was in a huff; that was something to avoid.
You expected James to flaunt it in your face that he practically saved you. A few days passed with virtually no changes. He treated you like he always had. There’s no mention of Knighton and his unwanted advances.
It bugged you. Why did James bother to help you if not to hold it over you? Why would he go back to hating your guts so immediately? Something about it didn’t feel right.
“Potter. A word,” you said after Potions.
He stopped just outside of the classroom. And so did Sirius.
“Just Potter,” you said to him flatly.
“Yeah, I want my mate to show up to Ancient Runes alive.”
“Pads, go,” James said. “I can handle myself.”
Sirius looked from you to James, to make sure that he was sure, and then back to you. Then he walked away.
“Need another rescuing?” James asked.
“I wouldn’t call it a rescue.” A lie. “But it is bothering me.”
James let out a disbelieving huff before saying, “You don’t owe me or anything, if that’s what’s bothering you.”
Straight to the point. It was almost funny how well James knew you. You crossed your arms.
“Why did you help?” you asked, narrowing your eyes. “I thought you loved to see me miserable.”
“Only when you bring it upon yourself. Or when I cause it.” His lips briefly curled into a smirk. “Knighton was being an arse, and no one deserves that kind of torture.”
He gave you a curt nod and walked in the direction that Sirius had gone. You watched him walk away with a frown on your face. That conversation didn’t soothe your thoughts. It made them worse.
So you didn’t owe James anything and he didn’t seem to want to hold it over you. But he wanted to be the only one to torture you? Really? It didn’t make sense. You wanted to ask why. You tried to think of reasons why for the rest of the day. Nothing made sense.
“What was that about?” Sirius asked when James joined him and Remus in the Ancient Runes classroom.
“Incident with Knighton the other day. It’s nothing.”
“Knighton?” Remus asked.
James nodded, but Remus didn’t seem satisfied with that.
“What were they doing that she needed to talk to you about?”
James looked away from the boys momentarily, running a hand through his hair.
“He, um, was being a twat. Harassing her,” he said. “I… I stopped him.”
Sirius laughed, “You stopped him? Don’t you harass her every day?”
“No, like he was forcing himself onto her.”
“Huh,” Sirius said.
“What?”
“Nothing,” he said with a shrug. “Didn’t think you’d be a knight in shining armor for her, of all people.”
“It didn’t have anything to do with her. Didn’t matter who Knighton was doing that to. It was just that he was doing it.”
Remus hummed and tossed Sirius a look, which James did not miss. His friends didn’t think that you had nothing to do with it.
“I didn’t even know it was her until I pulled him back,” James lied.
He had heard your voice. He heard you say you didn’t want Knighton and the older boy didn’t back off. James knew it was you, but he stood by what he told the boys. It didn’t matter that it was you. It could have been anyone and James would’ve pulled Knighton off of them. He meant it when he said that the seventh year was an arse and no one deserved that kind of torture.
He just didn’t linger on what he told you – that he was the only one allowed to make you miserable. He also didn’t mention that to the boys. They would’ve taken it to mean something that it didn’t.
“Would you describe Potter as self-righteous?” you asked the girls in your dorm that night.
Dorcas hummed as she flipped the page of her Transfiguration textbook. “Lots of ways to describe him. That could be one.”
“What’d that piece of shit do now?” Beatrice, another one of your roommates, asked.
“He said he wants to be the only one to torture me.”
“That’s… something,” Dorcas said, looking up. “What’s the context?”
You scoffed and rolled your eyes at the memory.
“Fucking Knighton? I think that’s what Potter called him. Older Hufflepuff. Tried to force his way into my pants and Potter swings in ‘n’ makes him stop.” You shook your head. “I was going to tell him off, because I will not be in debt to Potter. And he says that he’s the only one allowed to torture me.”
“Imagine if he had said he wants to be the only one in your pants,” Pandora laughed.
You, Dorcas and Beatrice all stared at her for a second before laughing with her.
“He would never,” Dorcas wheezed.
And nothing changed. You still made it your number one mission to make James miserable, and he you. It was almost like you had an understanding. You hated each other and that’s what it was. You were allowed to make each other wish you were never born. Whether anyone else was allowed to do that was up in the air. Boys still asked you out from time to time and you still snogged Barty periodically, but no one made unwanted advances on you. People, usually Slytherins, expressed their annoyance with James and his friends, but you were the only one who ever seemed to exact any kind of revenge on them. If you were messing with someone, James was the target.
You walked into Potions, going to take your usual spot when you noticed that not only was Dorcas not sitting there, but no one was sitting in their spots. Everyone was standing along the back wall. Someone pointed to the blackboard.
Assigning new seats
You went to stand next to Dorcas.
“Since when does Professor Slughorn assign seats to sixth years?” you asked quietly.
“I don’t know,” she said, shaking her head. “I thought it was for a different class but Vance said she saw him writing it when she walked in.”
“But why do we need them? Aren’t we all doing fine?”
“As far as I’m aware… Who knows what’s going on in that old man’s head?”
The last few minutes before class started passed slowly.
“Good morning everyone!” Professor Slughorn said once he exited his office. He held a small cauldron in his hands. “Good to see everyone saw the board. We’ll be drawing numbers for the new seats.” He shook the cauldron so everyone could hear slips of paper rustling. “One is the front left-most seat, and so on. Then seven in the second row. I don’t care what order you draw in, just no switching!” He set the cauldron on the demonstration desk at the front of the room. “If anyone ends up with who they’ve been sitting with so far, I will move you.” He clasped his hands together and smiled. “Alright, go on. We have an exciting lesson ahead of us.”
“Doubt it,” Dorcas muttered, but she led the class to the front of the room.
She sighed after drawing and showed you the slip. Three.
“Front and center,” you said.
You stuck your hand in the cauldron and swirled the papers around. You selected one and unfolded it. Eighteen. You showed Dorcas.
“Other side of the room. It’s been nice knowing you.”
Dorcas only had to turn around to find her desk. You walked to the back of the classroom and began setting up. Slowly, the rest of the class picked their numbers and found their new seats. There wasn’t much conversation happening.
“Professor,” James’ voice said. “I can’t sit here.”
You glanced up from your fingernails. You may have been picking at them while you were waiting. Professor Slughorn took the slip from James’ hand and you were half-surprised to see him look back at you. There were two people James couldn’t work with: Sirius and you.
“That’s not Mr. Black there,” Professor Slughorn chuckled as he gave James the slip back. “You two are no longer second years, Mr. Potter. I trust you’ll find a way to work together.”
“Professor,” James said, almost begging. “I’ll sit anywhere else.”
“Mr. Potter.”
James frowned. The professor’s tone said to drop it and deal with it. James walked back to your table and dropped his things on it with a thud.
“Wow, don’t act like I killed your owl.”
He glared at you. “I wouldn’t put it past you to.”
“I wouldn’t actually kill an owl,” you scoffed. “Even if it had the unfortunate fate of belonging to you.”
“This better be temporary…” James grumbled as he took his seat.
Once everyone was situated with Sirius sitting in spot seven, Professor Slughorn explained why they were switching seats. Part of being in N.E.W.T. level courses was being able to succeed no matter who you worked with. Everyone in the room was competent. None of them should have any issues with brewing potions if they could personally do it. Who you sat next to was a preference, but life is not about your preferences. But he claimed he wasn’t cruel. He would be assigning an out-of-class project for everyone to complete with their new partner to help you familiarize yourself with each other.
James kept his eyes glued to his notes the whole time Professor Slughorn spoke. You watched him in your periphery. You knew you’d be fine. You were good at Potions. And you assumed James had to actually be decent enough to make it into the class, despite what you had said at the start of the semester. You knew that James was a decent student. You just also knew that it drove him crazy when you implied he paid his way through classes.
By the end of the period, you were ready to tell James that you could meet in the library a few times and crank out the project. It would minimize how much time you spent together. He would just have to do some extra work by himself, as would you.
Only you didn’t open your mouth fast enough after Slughorn dismissed class. Within seconds, James was gone. You stood up and followed him out, but you and Sirius both stood outside the classroom for a second, looking for him. He really booked it.
Sirius glanced at you sideways. “Right… Bye.”
Sirius met up with James in the Great Hall, where he was already shoveling food into his mouth.
“So, those new Potions seats,” Sirius said as he sat down across from James at the Gryffindor table. “Not ideal, if you ask me.”
“Nowht idweal?” James repeated through a mouth full of food. He swallowed. “I’m not sure you saw who I was seated next to.”
“You did rip Knighton off of her. So how bad could it be?”
“You know how bad it is.”
“You’ve never told anyone why you hate her. So, do I know?”
James shook his head. It had been pretty clear at the beginning of first year that you weren’t going to talk about it and James agreed that that was the best course of action. He wasn’t going to change that now.
“I have my reasons.”
“Reasons you haven’t told me. Or Remus. Or Peter.” Sirius scooped some food onto his plate. “She’s a Slytherin so I get it, but… I don’t know. She’s not like Snivellus or Mulciber or Avery.”
“You don’t know her like I do,” James said.
“Clearly. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you that miserable in Potions. History of Magic maybe, but not Potions.”
You could see Sirius and James’ animated conversation from across the hall. It deepened the frown that had graced your face since you exited the Potions’ classroom.
“Don’t let that shit get you down, lovely,” Avery said.
“He’s a proper twat,” you said with an eye roll. “Annoying that he can’t seem to see that I want to be sat next to him as much as he wants to sit next to me.”
“I would’ve thought he was smart enough to understand that you have to work together if you want to pass,” Dorcas said.
You shrugged. “Maybe he’ll pay Slughorn off later and I’ll get someone decent… Actually, I wouldn’t mind that.” Your face turned hopeful. “What do you think I’d have to do to get him to try that?”
James’ attitude toward you didn’t change over the rest of the day, nor did it change during the span of time until your next Potions lesson. He looked ready to completely ignore you again.
“Potter,” you said, sitting down next to him.
He didn’t react.
“You have to acknowledge me if you want to pass this class,” you said flatly. You saw him flex his eyebrows and took it as acknowledgement. “Just let me know which parts of the project you want to do and we’ll just meet in the library once in like four weeks to combine what we got.”
“I’ll do the whole thing,” James said.
You gaped at him briefly, waiting for him to say he was kidding. James was theoretically known for making jokes all the time. But he wasn’t smiling. He wasn’t laughing. There were no indications that he wasn’t being completely serious.
“No? I’m not letting you be solely responsible for my grade.”
“Then proof it when I’m done. I don’t care. I’m just not working with you.”
You frowned. “What is this? Some ploy to get me deeper in your debt? First Knighton and now this?”
That got James to shoot you a sour look.
“I told you you don’t owe me for that.”
“I don’t believe you. You wouldn’t help someone like me without getting something out of it.”
“Because I’m just that selfish, right?”
“Selfish, righteous, pompous, overblown. I could go on.”
“Of course you think I’m all that.”
“You are.”
“Keep telling yourself that,” James said, bringing his attention back to his Potions book. “And you don’t owe me.”
You shook your head and said, “If I don’t owe you, meet me in the library after lessons to figure out what parts of the project we’re each doing. Swallow your pride if that inflated thing can fit down your throat.”
Professor Slughorn started the lesson, allowing the silence between you and James to return. Saying that you worked together during the lesson was a gross overstatement. But, Professor Slughorn had seen that you were sort of conversing before class and he thought that was a win in his books.
When you were dismissed, James didn’t say anything to you. He got up and found Sirius before walking out. You waited for Dorcas.
“Where’re you going?” Sirius asked after the last class of the day when James started to turn down a different corridor.
“Library,” James answered shortly.
“Why?”
“To prove a point.”
“Wha-… actually, never mind. I’ll see you later,” Sirius said with a shake of his head before continuing on his way to Gryffindor Tower.
You weren’t difficult to find in the library. You had picked a spot near the poisons and antidotes sections. You had the rubric laid out in front of you and a few books already pulled from shelves. Rather than saying “hi” to announce his arrival, he dropped his bag on the table.
“Actually showing up for something academic? Didn’t know you could do that,” you said.
“I’m here so you know you don’t owe me. I don’t need associations with you to go beyond this stupid project.”
“Don’t worry, that feeling’s mutual.” You pushed the rubric toward where he stood at the edge of the table. “The sooner we divide the work, the sooner we can leave and not work together for four weeks.”
James quickly read over the portions, which Professor Slughorn had told them to read on their own time. As he went down the page, his expression got progressively annoyed.
“Did you even read this?” he asked, putting it back on the table.
“I skimmed it.”
“We can’t work separately. Everything is… entangled.”
You snatched the paper and thoroughly read it until your expression matched James’.
“Fuck…” you muttered. You reread it again. “Look into the first half of the ingredients and I’ll do the second half. You book a brewing time and-”
“Why do I have to book it?”
“Don’t you have quidditch and detention and whatever else you do?”
“Yeah? So?”
“My schedule’s open. Book it when you’re available and I’ll be there.”
James made a noise that was a mix of a groan and sigh.
“And we’ll go from there, I guess.”
James sat down and pulled one of the books toward him.
“Why are you staying?” you asked. You had expected him to leave once he knew what part of the project he had to do.
“You got the books. I’m already here.” He paused. “Can you handle me sitting here or will your world implode?”
You waved your hand dismissively. “Go ahead, Potter.”
You worked silently for two hours. Then it was almost time to head to dinner and James gathered the books to put them away. You waited at the table until he got back.
“So book the brewing and let me know when. Got it?”
“Yeah. I’m not dense.”
“Could’ve fooled me,” you said and then you left him to finish gathering his things.
“Where’ve you been?” Pandora asked when you sat down in between her and Dorcas.
“Library with Potter.”
“With Potter?” Wilkes asked. “What happened to wanting him to fall off the face of the Earth?”
“Oh, trust me, I still want that. Slughorn assigned a partner project and he thinks there’s no reason James can’t be my partner for it.” You looked at Dorcas. “Did you know that the whole thing has to be completed together?”
She nodded.
“Great. Thanks for telling me that,” you groaned.
The next time James spoke to you he was telling you he booked a brewing time for 9 a.m. on Saturday. When you stared at him gobsmacked, he shrugged and said there was no quidditch game so he was open.
“And what about Hogsmeade?” you asked bitterly.
“This won’t take all day. You’ll have plenty of time when we’re done.”
“Just don’t be late then.”
“What’s that thing you say? Sooner we start, sooner we can leave? I won’t be late.”
You felt stupid for believing he’d actually be on time when you were waiting for him at 9:10 a.m. He didn’t apologize when he arrived. He just threw his bag on the bag near the station where you were sitting.
“Let’s get this over with, princess,” he said.
“What happened to not being late?” you asked as you slid a note-taking sheet toward him before lighting a fire under your cauldron.
“Overslept. Jinx me. I don’t care.”
“Wow, someone’s grumpy this morning. I’d ask who pissed in your pumpkin juice but you’re probably into it.”
“Is that fresh dittany? Instructions say it needs to be fresh,” James said flatly.
You cocked an eyebrow at his lack of response to your jab.
“Yes, it’s fresh. I can read.”
He hummed and reached for a pestle to ground some moonstone.
The rest of the brewing session was quiet. The only talking was curt directions or comments.
“Pass the knife.” “Stir clockwise twice, then counterclockwise three times.” “Drop the shells in one at a time!”
The one time James didn’t ask you to pass something, he reached over for it. He could reach it by leaning forward and over ever so slightly in your direction. The polite thing would’ve been to ask you to hand it to him. As you had been doing for the past hour. But no. Instead, you got a whiff of his cologne, and you instantly knew that it wasn’t something you could tease him about later.
It was good. Not too pungent, not gross or overwhelming. It didn’t make you want to gag. It must’ve cost him a few galleons, but you thought it was worth whatever the cost. While it may not have been drawing in Lily Evans, it certainly wasn’t driving away second choices for him.
The potion turned a milky color. You used a ladle to scoop a sample and let it pour back into the cauldron.
“That looks right,” you said.
“Great,” James said flatly. “Bottle it and we can leave.”
You nodded and ladled a smaller portion into a vial. You stored it in a case within you bag.
“I’ll hold onto it,” you told him.
You vanished the rest of the potion and walked out of the classroom. James picked the Saturday morning time, when you could’ve been in Hogsmeade. He could be the one to put away all the unused ingredients.
You found your friends sitting in the area outside of Honeydukes. Pandora caught you up on what you had missed so far: nothing much. James had been right about there being all day for Hogsmeade and brewing in the morning wasn’t that big a deal. However, you weren’t going to be the one to tell him that.
The boys decided it was time for lunch and led the group toward the Three Broomsticks. They were a decent amount ahead of you so you told the girls about the brewing session, including James’ cologne.
“Who wears cologne to potion brewing? It’s basically a study session. There’s no one to impress,” you complained.
“Maybe there is someone to impress,” Pandora said, winking at you.
“As if!”
“Probably didn’t want you going around telling everyone he smells bad,” Dorcas said – she had a point. “If what you say is true, then I wish all guys had the same taste. Avery’s is-” She shivered. “-horrendous. I have to brace myself every time he sits next to me in the common room. Which! has increased so much this term. And he doesn’t know what personal space is. Pandora, do you remember when I was sitting on the couch with you and Evan and he decided that there was space for one more? Ugh, I swear he was trying to pull me into his lap once he weaseled his way in.”
“Oh, yeah. That was uncomfortable. Like, I like my brother. But I was sitting a bit too close for comfort.”
“Avery’s the problem," Dorcas said, shaking her head. “What do I have to do to get him to see I’m not interested in the likes of him?” She sighed exasperatedly.
“Or any him,” you laughed.
Dorcas hit you with her shoulder. “Shut up.”
“Tell him you prefer blondes with choppy layers. And in Gryffindor red. Oh! Tell him you love a quidditch player and if he asks which team, you can tell him ‘Not yours.’”
“Shut up!” Dorcas whined playfully as she grabbed your arm, blushing furiously. “I hint at who I like once and this is how you treat me!”
“Hint? You practically spelled it out for me. And you ogle her every chance you get.”
“It’s not my fault she’s proper fit. I mean, come ooon, her arms? Fuck…”
“You need to freshen up before we risk running into her in the Broomsticks?” you teased.
She hit your arm again.
“I’m fine. Thank you.”
The next week passed without noticeable incident. It was the usual treatment from James, except slightly less. James was over his you-limit by the time he got back to his dorm. He didn’t want you to take up any more of his time after seeing you all day, so he didn’t prank you or anything that required planning. Snarky comments and insults were on full blast, though.
You agreed to meet in the library after classes on Friday. He had no quidditch practice since the Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff teams booked the pitch; they had the weekend match. Once again, James had no problem finding in you the library. You had sat in the same spot. And once again, you had already gathered all the books the two of you could possibly need and then some by the time he arrived. As you reminded him, the sooner you started working, the sooner you’d be done.
You exchanged minimal comments throughout the hour, only notes and pointing out sections within the books that the other might need for their section. You were amazed at his ability to hold his tongue. It was probably the most pleasant interaction the two of you had ever had.
Saturday brought decent weather. The Slytherin section was distracted for most of the quidditch match, not paying attention nearly as much as they would have if their housemates were in the air. You rarely paid attention to quidditch even then. It was the atmosphere that you came for. You didn’t need to care about what got other people hyped to get high off of their energy.
Plus, today it didn’t matter who won. You’d end up at a party afterwards either way. Pandora had friends in Ravenclaw and Hufflepuffs let just about anyone in, as long as you weren’t going to tattle on the contraband they managed to get their hands on.
It wasn’t surprising that Pandora was more excited than any of your friends when Ravenclaw won. She grabbed Dorcas’ and your hands to drag you down to the pitch. She needed to talk to her friends. Once they figured out what time you should head up to the tower, you returned to the castle.
A few hours later, Pandora and Beatrice were leading the group up what felt like ten thousand and one stairs.
“They gotta stop hosting their parties in their common room,” Dorcas grumbled.
“Almost there!” Pandora called over her shoulder.
She was correct. Another one-fourth turn around the spiral and you were at the top. Pandora reached up for the eagle knocker and it gave you a riddle. Your group stared blankly at each other. Then the door opened by itself. Or so you thought until what looked like a second year peered out.
“Pandora?” she asked.
“Hi, Bethany!” Pandora said with a bright smile. “Can we come in?”
The younger girl returned her smile with a nod and let your group in. As with every party, you were met with music and the smell of butterbeer and something more alcoholic. And as always, your first stop was the drink table. You decided to play it safe with a plain butterbeer. Maybe you’d have something harder later, but right now you wanted a clear mind.
As you were taking your first sip and glancing around the room, an arm wrapped itself around your waist.
“Bit of a boring drink, sweetheart,” Barty said.
“If I start with troll vodka, I’ll be hurling before the fun really starts.”
“We can’t be having that.”
You looked up to smile at Barty and he was already looking at you, smirking. It was clear that he wasn’t leaving your side tonight. His hand didn’t leave your side as you moved to stand by Dorcas and some of her other friends. The spot also happened to have a clear view of her favorite Gryffindor. Marlene was just a group over.
When Barty did leave your side, it was when you had finished your drink and you asked him to grab you something.
“Troll vodka, right?”
“Mhmm.”
Beatrice gave you a sideways glance. “I thought you weren’t looking for anything serious.”
“I’m not?”
She tilted her cup in Barty’s direction.
“Looking serious to me.”
“It’s not,” you said flatly. “Do you see him talk to me when he’s not latching onto me?”
Beatrice and Dorcas exchanged a look as Barty returned, handing you your drink and wrapping a territorial arm around you. You rolled your eyes before murmuring thanks to Barty.
You stood by what you said. There were no strings with Barty. You were… party buddies. When you wanted someone to snog or to dance with, you could go to each other, knowing the other would say yes. And you wouldn’t be upset or mad or anything if he decided to go with someone else – the same applied to you for Barty.
Slowly, Barty moved from standing next to you to standing behind you, holding your hips. You were mid-sip when he dipped his head to ask if you wanted to dance. You lowered your drink to nod and then you slammed the rest. You moved over to where other students were dancing. As usual per these parties, the raunchier you danced, the closer to the middle you were.
You and Barty ended up dead center.
During your talking with friends, James and his friends showed up. If there was a party, those boys would be there. Unless it was being hosted by Slytherins in your common room; they weren’t welcome there. The boys mingled and drank, and Sirius got a group of people around him as he retold a story of nearly getting caught by Filch when he was out of bed after curfew – he was embellishing, of course. Peter and Remus disappeared to talk to some Ravenclaws that they were closer to.
James wasn’t like you. He didn’t start the night with a butterbeer. The boys had taken a shot in their dorm before coming to the party and now James was on his second drink. He didn’t really need the extra courage that the alcohol gave him, but he wasn’t shying away from it. He didn’t need to ask anyone to dance with him. He just moved into the dancing crowd when he didn’t feel like listening to Sirius’ story anymore.
Some girl started dancing closer to him. James didn’t know her name off the top of his head, but he knew that she was a seventh year Ravenclaw. With her, James got moved from the outskirts of the circle to a layer or two inside. He caught a glimpse of you and Barty in the middle. Every so often there were cheers and wolfwhistles.
You were enjoying yourself to say the least.
James couldn’t say the same. He looked away from you, tried to focus on the pretty girl in front of him. But then there’d be cheering again and he’d look at you and let his gaze linger longer than he meant to.
It didn’t feel right to him. Something was off with your dancing. He couldn’t exactly put his finger on it. Was it how Barty’s hands were feeling up your body? Was it how you were pressing your body against his? Was it just a bit too much for a school party?
James stopped trying to figure it out. The more he tried to figure it out, the more he was looking at you. In the end, he decided that it was because you were who you are. That’s why he didn’t like it. He wasn’t too big a fan of Barty’s but he also didn’t know Barty all that well.
After a while, you tapped out. You got yourself one more drink and sat near an open window that was attempting to cool the room off. You surveyed the party as you sipped. Barty was nowhere to be seen once you stopped dancing and didn’t indicate you wanted to kiss or do anything more. Younger students had started heading to bed. Some Ravenclaws were leading their partners to their dorms. Slowly, the number of people in the room dwindled and you joined those leaving.
There was one thing caught in your mind as you trekked down to the Slytherin Dungeons. You had seen James look at you while you were dancing several times, and it wasn’t a quick glance. You never made eye contact, but he was watching you.
Obviously other people watched you and Barty, but it was strange that you caught James doing it so much.
Sunday had you working on assignments you had put off. You didn’t do anything else after working on Potions with James in the library so you had a fair amount to do. At least you got to sleep in before you claimed a table in the common room. Regulus Black, Barty, Evan and Pandora joined you. You and Pandora laughed behind your hands as Barty grumbled to Regulus that he didn’t need to turn in an essay. He claimed his grade was fine and he was going to get an O on the upcoming exam.
“Just sit down and pretend to be productive,” Regulus retorted before mumbling, “Fucking degenerate.”
You got more homework done after lunch and you called it quits, heading back to your dorm for a nap. You relaxed in your room for a while and then you went back to the common room. Dorcas had come to find you so they had another player for Exploding Snap.
Your morning classes on Monday passed in a blur. It was just professors, lectures and turning in assignments. It wasn’t until Potions that anything amusing really happened.
James was already sitting at the station, leaning his head on his hand and looking like he was struggling to stay awake. It was the perfect opportunity to mess with him.
“Did you see something you liked Saturday?” you whispered in his left ear, the opposite side of where you sat.
He jerked wide away. He took a second to gather himself, processing where he was and what you had said to him.
“Evans was looking ravishing,” he said with a nod in Lily’s direction.
You hummed. “You weren’t staring at her though.”
“Who was I staring at then?”
“Me.” You grinned at him with a teasing look in your eye.
“Huh… I think you’re imagining things, L/N. You might have actually lost your mind.”
“I know what I saw.”
Rather than pay attention to what Professor Slughorn was saying during the lesson, you thought about the party. Some part of you didn’t mind that James had been staring. It wasn’t that you wanted him to be staring at you; you wanted him to have some kind of negative emotion. He was just jealous that someone was touching you, dancing with you, being with you in the ways that he wanted with Lily. How could it be that you got it while he didn’t?
You had another library session scheduled with James early in the week. You got some of it in classes, but since your comment, James was uncomfortable. When you were sat across from him in the library, you could feel it radiating off of him. He wouldn’t look at you. You suspected that he was trying to make up for staring at you during the party.
Every time you spoke, he jumped. He reread sections like three times before anything stuck, and you could tell that he was rereading pages. You didn’t say anything about it though. You still wanted to get a decent grade on this assignment and you wouldn’t get it if James was even less focused than he was now.
Don’t tick him off… It’s only thirty more minutes… you told yourself.
So you worked. You passed him notes to add to his section. He took them and added what was needed to the essay. It was a tense thirty minutes.
Thursday had you holed up in the library again. Sixth year wasn’t taking it easy on you. You had gone straight there after classes, barely left to get dinner, and then you were back at your table. No one bothered you and you liked it that way. You were exhausted from classes and endless assignments. When you nodded off into your book, you took that as a sign that you were done for the night. You packed up your things and left the library.
Despite all your yawning, you decided to take the long way back to the common room. A little bit of walking was good to clear your brain.
It practically happened in slow motion. James turned the corner. He must’ve come from quidditch practice since his hair was damp and he was wearing a tight athletic shirt. You understood what Dorcas meant by quidditch player’s arms. You raked your eyes over James before you could stop yourself, and judging by the smirk on his face when you reached the top, he saw.
Great.
“Did you see something you liked last night?” James teased when he sat down for Potions the next day.
You hummed. “If it was anyone but you… maybe.”
You weren’t going to deny that James had an attractive body. It didn’t matter though since the personality that came with it was horrendous. You had never really considered James to be attractive, despite seeing other girls drool over him. You didn’t see much of a point to considering if someone was attractive if you despised them.
You groggily dragged yourself up to the Potions classroom. James claimed it was the best time for the second brewing portion and you could meet up with your friends in Hogsmeade afterwards. Why he moved it up an hour when he was late to the first one was beyond you.
“Morning,” James said when you walked in at 7:59 a.m.
You blinked slowly with a blank expression. You slowly walked over to the station and put your stuff down.
“You’re early,” you grumbled.
“Sooner we start, sooner we finish. Right?”
You hummed and pulled out the instructions for the session’s potion. James had gathered most of the ingredients that you’d need. He reached under the cauldron and lit the fire. For the rest of the brewing, you exchanged minimal words. You brewed. You both took notes. You both marked areas of the essay portion of the project that would need to be reworked. After the plangetines dissolved, James rolled up his sleeves and lowered the flames of the fire so the potion could simmer. You didn’t let yourself look at his arms again. You wouldn’t let him have the satisfaction again.
James sighed and leaned back in his chair. “You can leave. I’ll sit here until it turns purple, note it and clean up.”
“And why would I trust you to do that?”
“Because I need to pass this class just as much as you.”
“You would tell Slughorn that I sabotaged it and left before it exploded or whatever you have planned.”
You stood up to put away the extra ingredients. You weren’t stupid. You needed to be here until the brewing was done to ensure that it was done. You took a deep breath. When you turned back to the station, James was standing.
“You don’t need to be so cynical. You know that, right?” he asked.
“I’m not cynical. I just know that I have to be cautious when I’m around someone as arrogant and selfish as you.”
“If you got off your throne, princess, you’d see that people like me have a lot to offer. Everything I’ve done here is based off merit. My father hasn’t paid an extra knut to Hogwarts to further me or get me any special treatment or whatever you think happens.”
“Maybe so, but that doesn’t give you the right to be so boorish.”
“Better boorish than haughty.”
“That implies I think I’m better than everyone,” you said with a shake of your head. “I know I’m not, but I do know that I’m better than you.”
James took a step toward you and you squared your shoulders and stood tall. You wouldn’t be intimidated by the fact he was taller and more physically fit than you. He stared at you for a moment. Then he grabbed your face and kissed you.
Of all the things you thought James would’ve done when he stepped toward you, that was not it. The surprise of it had you frozen for a few seconds. Then you shoved him off of you and stumbled backwards a few steps – away from the simmering potion, thankfully.
“What the fuck, Potter?” you spat. You stared at him, somewhat expecting an excuse or a harsh laugh. He just wiped his mouth. “Yeah, you can clean up,” you said before grabbing your bag and bolting out of the classroom.
***
You were eight and holding onto your mother’s hand as you walked into a large office building. You weren’t sure where you were or necessarily why. You knew it was something for your father’s work. And that meant you had to be on your best behavior, not that you were an exceptionally unruly child.
Your father shook hands with a man dressed in a suit. Your mother smiled at him and he led you into a large room filled with other people. The thing that caught your eye was a snack table. You tapped your mother’s arm and pointed to it when you got her attention.
“Go ahead,” she said.
You dropped her hand and went to get yourself something to eat. You figured it was going to be a rather boring afternoon. The least you could do was enjoy one of the pastries and a handful of sweets. When you turned around with your snacks, your parents had moved. You scanned the room looking for them when you saw a small group of kids. Most likely other children dragged along for whatever this was.
“Can I sit?” you asked.
“Depends,” a boy with glasses and dark hair said. “What do you know about quidditch?”
You furrowed your brows and frowned. “Brooms and three kinds of balls? My dad listens to the Kites.”
“Sit. James doesn’t control the table,” an older girl said, patting the top of the chair next to her.
You sat down.
“Kites aren’t terrible,” James said. “Not as good as the Broomfleet, but they could be worse. At least they aren’t the Quafflepunchers.”
“What’s wrong with the Quafflepunchers?” you asked.
“Besides their uniforms? They’re obnoxious. They don’t treat the game like the art that it is. Horrendous plays and style. I could go on.”
“Hm, don’t?” you said.
A few of the other kids laughed as James frowned, leaning back in his chair. A different girl changed the subject and everything seemed fine. Hogwarts came up at one point, and everyone was saying which house they wanted or thought they’d be in. You didn’t know. Maybe Ravenclaw.
James laughed. “I’ll be in Gryffindor. No question about it. Best of the houses, if you ask me.”
“I mean, I think we were asking everyone,” you said.
“So?”
“You didn’t need to say ‘if you ask me.’ That’s all.”
“I was stating my opinion.”
“I got that.”
There was a tense moment at the table.
Then the older girl said, “I go next year. Both my parents were in Hufflepuff so I assume I’ll be there too. What I’m excited for is my own wand!”
A younger boy said he couldn’t wait to go because his parents promised him his own owl and they weren’t budging on letting him get one sooner. Again, conversation continued and everything was fine.
James got up and went to the snack table. You followed, having finished all of your snacks a while ago.
“Are you following me?” he asked when he noticed you were standing next to him, looking over what treats were left.
“You think you’re as important as bonbons? Please, as if.”
James poured the rest of the plate of bonbons onto his paper plate.
“Hey!” you complained. “You don’t need all of those.”
“Who are you, my mother?”
“Can you share? I just said I wanted some.”
“No.”
“You’re that selfish? Geez.”
“I got here before you did. Deal with it.”
You reached for a pastry, but before you could grab it, James snatched.
“This is mine too.”
“What’s wrong with you?”
“Nothing,” he said with a smile.
“Mum would call you a wild animal. No manners…”
James took a bite and then said, mouth full, “At leasbt I fen make frens.”
“I have friends!”
He swallowed. “Imaginary ones don’t count.”
He walked back to the table where you had been sitting. Your mother saw you and called your name. Apparently it was time to leave.
“I hope that wasn’t too boring for you,” your father said as you left the building.
You shrugged.
“One of the boys wasn’t nice,” you said.
“I hope you were,” your mother said.
“I tried to be.”
You really had tried, but James seemed to think his opinion was fact and that didn’t bode well with you. He took all the bonbons and essentially called you friendless. He was rude. Plain and simple. You hoped you’d never have to see him again.
When James left with his parents, they asked him if he behaved. Fleamont and Euphemia adored their son, but they were aware that his mouth needed some work. James nodded. He figured he’d never see you again so he didn’t need to talk about you to his parents. He didn’t like how you always had something negative to say after he said something. He may have taken the snacks you wanted, but you were rude.
As you both stewed on it, you both decided individually that if you did see the other ever again, you’d be sworn enemies. You didn’t need to associate with that kind of person.
***
You didn’t go to Hogsmeade. You sat in your dorm until dinner, and even then, you ate as quickly as you could. The girls asked what happened to meeting in Hogsmeade and you told them you weren’t feeling well. It wasn’t a lie. James had kissed you. James. You didn’t know what to do with that. You loathed each other; he only proved that he really was as rude, if not worse, as he was at eight. So why was he kissing you?
Another issue: there was a spark of something there. That brief kiss with James felt nothing like kissing Barty, nor that older Hufflepuff last year. What was that?
James took his time cleaning up the potions after it turned purple. He made sure to take detailed notes. He slowly walked up to Gryffindor Tower to put away his things before joining his friends in Hogsmeade. He had kissed you. You. He couldn’t explain why he did it, not really. You had just been standing there, insulting him and in a huff. When he took a step toward you, he meant to intimidate you. But then you straightened your back, put your shoulders back and stared up at him. It was… hot.
You had never been hot before. This was new. He couldn’t explain it. It was an impulse in the moment, and to make it all worse, he liked it. A lot. He couldn’t shake that feeling.
Throughout classes on Monday, you and James can’t look at each other. To everyone else, this isn’t anything new. To Slughorn, it’s a step backwards from the progress he thought the two of you were making with the project. Sure, you still seemed to hate each other, but there was talking. He’d heard from Madam Pince that when you were in the library together, you weren’t loud or fighting.
In Potions, you both had scooted your chairs to the edges of the station. You wanted as much space between you as you could. You’re grateful that it was a lecture rather than brewing. There was no way you’d be able to work on a potion with James. Not at that moment.
“Library after classes, right?” you asked, standing up but not leaving the classroom once you were dismissed.
James nodded. He didn’t look up to see you nod as well. Then you were gone.
“Mate, you ready? I’m starving,” Sirius said, standing next to him.
“Yeah. Yeah, I’m ready.”
That class had been as close as he’d been to you since the kiss. Every shared class before Potions, and then after Potions, you made sure to be as far away as possible. It probably seemed normal to everyone else, but James knew that there was a new reason for it. At least you were still meeting in the library later.
You were sitting at your usual table when James got there. You already had everything out. He sat down next to you rather than across from you, as he’d done the previous times. You don’t look at him. You expected him to get to work. Sooner you start, sooner you finish was the motto of this project.
“About Friday” he started to say, but he stopped when your hand suddenly gripped his wrist.
“We are not talking about that in the library. Not now.”
“But we’re going to-”
“No.”
“Y/N,” he said, almost pleadingly.
“You’re a right git.” You stood up and shoved all of your stuff into your bag. “I think we have enough to get a P.”
You didn’t care that you got no work done. You thought you could handle an hour in the library with him. You should’ve been working on the project with a table in between you. You hadn’t been planning on him sitting next to you and wanting to talk about the fact that he kissed you.
You left the library. James hadn’t taken anything out so he got up and followed you right away. With his longer strides, it didn’t take him too long to find you.
“Wait!”
You didn’t slow down. That just meant James had to quicken his pace to catch up.
“Y/N!”
“What?” you spat as his hand grabbed your shoulder, forcing you to stop walking.
“I… I just…”
You raised your eyebrows and lowered your chin, silently telling him to get it out. Except he didn’t say anything. He lowered his head and captured your lips in a kiss. It was shorter than the first one. You stepped backwards.
“Fuck,” he breathed. He took a step back and ran a hand through his hair. Then he pointed at you. “We need to talk about that.”
“Your inability to not kiss someone?” you asked, ignoring the way your heart was pounding in your chest and your lips tingling.
“There’s…” He wagged his pointer finger at you.”There’s something there. And I don’t think we can ignore it.”
“What’s there is you not being able to keep it in your pants,” you said.
“No,” he said, shaking his head and taking a step toward you. “This is new. I haven’t felt this before.”
You scoffed. “What do you mean?”
“Please, don’t be dense. I’ve kissed someone to get my rocks off. Because I thought they’d taste good. You… It’s not that.”
“It’s an established hatred.”
“No. I thought it was, but… no.”
“No? Then pray tell, Potter, what is it?”
James should have given you an answer. That’s not what he did. He kissed you again. He brought his hand up to caress your jaw and he slowly tilted your head back. You couldn’t stop yourself. You kissed him back. There was a thud as his bag fell to the floor, and then you felt him lifting yours from your shoulder and letting it slide down more gently. His hand that wasn’t holding your face found your hip and moved your body closer to him. You didn’t know when you started holding onto the sides of his shirt. Apparently your subconscious knew that you shouldn’t actually touch him. James seemed to have no problem with touching you though.
When he pulled back, James rested his forehead on yours, breathing heavily and letting his hand fall from your face. You gave him a few seconds to see if he would say anything. He didn’t. He was staring into your eyes like he was searching for something. You turned your body to move out of his hold on your hip and grabbed your bag. Within seconds, you disappeared around a corner and James was left alone.
He ran a hand through his hair. You kissed him back this time, so why were you running away? You kissed him back so you must feel something too. He wasn’t imagining that there was something there. Well, he knew he wasn’t imagining it for himself, but he felt so sure that you felt something too. There was no way that this was only affecting him.
He stood in the corridor for a few minutes before deciding to go back to the library. He could get some of the work done without you. He owed you that much, since it was sort of his fault that you left the library.
There was a change in the air between you and James. It was palpable to just about everyone. Things had been bad between you before. Tense. Unfriendly. Frigid. This was different.
Before, you always knew how to act around James. You were always preparing something snarky to send back to him. Not now though. You were terrified that James was going to try to talk to you and end up kissing you again. And it was terrifying because part of you wanted him to.
James was trying to figure you out in a way he never had before. He wasn’t trying to figure out the best way to push your buttons. He was trying to understand your reactions to him kissing you. You hadn’t hexed him or slapped him. You left. He swore it was different than what went down with Knighton. It had to be. He also was trying to figure out how someone who used to make his blood boil on sight suddenly made him feel the need to hold you close.
“You good, Prongs?” Sirius asked when James walked into their dorm after lessons were over.
James had been sneaking glances at you all day since you gave him no chance to talk about what happened yesterday. Sirius wasn’t blind; he noticed that James wasn’t not paying in the same way as he usually was.
“Course. I’m brilliant. Never better,” he said, not fully meaning it, and Sirius could tell.
“You haven’t asked your dearest Evans out lately,” Sirius said as he adjusted how he was sitting on his bed. “I think I saw her eyeing you today. You might have a real shot if you do it right.”
James set his bag on top of his trunk and ran a hand through his messy hair.
“I don’t think I’m going to her out anymore.”
Remus looked up from where he sat at his desk. “You’re not?”
“No.”
“Why’s that?” Peter asked.
“She’s… uh, not the one, I guess. I only needed to be shot down a thousand and one times.”
“Uh-huh,” Sirius said. “So who is she?”
James quirked an eyebrow.
“This new girl you’ve got your eye on. Must be some kind of goddess if she has you dropping Evans.”
James took his glasses off to clean them with his shirt. The boys knew he was stalling; he rarely cleaned his glasses. Then he walked back across the room to the door.
With his hand on the knob, he said, “It’s Y/N.”
He left the room as quickly as he could. His friends didn’t waste a second jumping up and running out of the dorm. They stopped James before he reached the bottom of the stairs.
“Y/N? As in Y/N L/N?” Peter asked, slightly out of breath.
James nodded.
“Wha-When did this happen?” Remus asked.
“I’m not sure. It just did.”
“But you hated her?” Remus said.
“I kissed her. Three times,” James said, starting to push past his friends. “Excuse me.”
Then he fully moved past them and finished going down the stairs. While they followed him into the common room, they didn’t follow him out of it. They watched him go, each dumbstruck.
“He kissed her?” Peter asked.
“Three times?” Sirius added. “Who is he?”
“No way she kissed him back, right?” Remus finished.
You weren’t handling it any better. You sat on your bed, picking at your nails as you replayed every interaction you had with James, how horrible he was. And then you compared those memories with how he kissed you. How you liked it. You felt disgusted with yourself.
“Would you mind sitting in the common room?” Pandora asked.
You stopped picking at your nails. “Why?”
“You got bad energy. Can’t focus with it in here.”
Dorcas perked up, propping herself up on her elbows rather than trying to nap. Pandora was exceptionally gifted with reading people’s energy. So if she said you had bad energy, you usually had something to get off your chest.
“So what is it?” Dorcas asked you. “Did you get a detention we don’t know about?”
“No.” You knew that it was pointless to not tell them. They’d get it out of you anyways, or you’d have to sit in the common room, which was a far more public area than you wanted to be in. “It’s James.”
Pandora set her quill down. You said James, not Potter. She clarified anyways.
“As in James Potter?”
“Mhmm.”
“What did he do this time?” Dorcas asked with a sigh.
She and Pandora exchanged a knowing look. They thought he did something perfectly normal but you’d make it sound like he murdered kittens for fun.
“He kissed me.”
“He did what?” Pandora gasped as Dorcas sprung up from her bed and launched herself onto yours.
“And I think I liked it.”
Dorcas grabbed your face and held it close to hers. “James Potter, the boy whose throat you’ve had your wand at since first year, kissed you?”
“When?” Pandora asked.
You removed Dorcas’ hands from your face and scooted toward your headboard to make more space for her on your bed.
“Um, Saturday, and twice yesterday.”
“Saturday? That’s why you were in a funk?” Dorcas asked and you nodded.
“Wait, wait, wait, you said you think you liked it,” Pandora said, getting up and joining you and Dorcas on your bed. “Do you fancy James?”
“I… I don’t know.”
“How do you not know?”
“Pan, I’ve hated him since we were eight. It was always pure, unadulterated hate. And… I don’t know. Suddenly, he’s not horrible looking and he’s kissing me and it’s a hell of a lot better than Barty.”
Dorcas pressed her lips together before asking, “Maybe Barty’s a bad kisser?”
You shook your head. “No. He’s good. Trust me. That boy knows what he’s doing. I enjoy kissing him. But James… Potter… It’s better. I don’t know how to describe it.”
The other girls waited for you to continue, even though they both had endless questions.
“I… I don’t even know if he hates me anymore. Which I guess raises the question: why did he kiss me in the first place? He called my cynical and haughty literal seconds before he kissed me. Who does that?”
“And what about Lily Evans?” Pandora asked. “Hasn’t he been obsessed with her since forever?”
“I thought so,” Dorcas said.
“If he still fancies her, why is he kissing me?”
“Who’s to say he still does?” Pandora asked.
A moment of quiet passed.
“So what am I supposed to do now?”
Dorcas laughed. “Sweetie, you know we can’t really answer that for you.”
“I’d say you need to decide if you still hate him,” Pandora said. “And that’s not something we can advise on, not really.”
So you stewed on it. You had started hating James when you were eight. You probably hadn’t changed much between eight and eleven, but you had changed a fair amount between then and now. Was there a chance that James had too? Had James changed for everyone but you because of your vowed hatred? Was there a chance that if you stopped lingering on what you said when you were actually children that something else could be there?
Once again, there was an obvious change in the space between you and James. You were neutral toward each other. No scathing exchanges. No glares. Nothing. You entered classrooms at your usual times, and you didn’t seem to mind when James entered as well. You would go as far to say that you worked well together during your next Potions lesson. Slughorn smiled at that. While things were calm, you didn’t really talk all that much.
Until the end of Potions on Friday.
“We still need to finish the essay,” you said as you put your things away. “I know you have quidditch tomorrow, so I was thinking we could meet in the library on Sunday.”
“If… if we happen to lose, we could do tomorrow.” James looked up as you stood up. “Not that I’m planning or expecting to lose. But you never know… Hufflepuff’s seeker could catch the snitch before I score twenty times.”
“Yeah… okay.”
You turned to walk away. James’ chair scraped the ground as he pushed back from the station.
“You’ll be at the match?”
You turned back. “Yeah.”
“Good,” he said with a nod and small smile.
It wasn’t a smirk nor cocky grin. It was a genuine smile, like he couldn’t hear better news than the promise of you being at the match and possibly watching him.
For the first time since your first year, you truly paid attention to the match. You watched James as diligently as Dorcas watched Marlene. In the past, you would’ve never dreamed of telling James that he was actually as good at quidditch as he boasted. Now, you were debating it. His ego didn’t need the boost, but it could be an olive branch.
You wanted Hufflepuff to win. It wasn’t so that James would lose though. He’d be less surrounded by people if Gryffindor lost and you’d be able to find him easier, with less people watching. That part scared you a little. What were people going to think when they saw you and James being nice to each other? Not that your image mattered that much. It was more the gossip and whispers that Hogwarts was known for that bothered you.
To your dismay, Gryffindor won. That meant every Gryffindor and then some were going to be surrounding James. You walked with Dorcas down to the pitch. She had started talking with Marlene a little bit after classes and had more courage to talk to her. While she entered the herd of scarlet-clad students, you stayed on the side, a few steps away. You crossed your arms.
James had been easy enough to spot. He wasn’t the tallest of the team but he had a certain energy that was reflected in those congratulating him. Marlene was nearby. When he saw Dorcas with her, he looked around. You were usually around Dorcas; he had seen you standing with her in the stands. And there you were, just outside of everyone.
He shot a grin at you. You returned it with a tight-lipped smile and small, quick wave. James was about to start walking toward you, but you looked away before heading to the castle. His smile flickered. Then he turned his attention back to the people in front of him.
You worked on homework and played Exploding Snap with your friends. Slytherins didn’t go to Gryffindor parties.
James enjoyed the party. He did. He always did. He loved when the whole house was having a great time. There was butterbeer and snacks for everyone, and alcohol for the older students. People were playing games and dancing. It was loud and wonderful. James was usually in the middle of it all, taking shots with the team and being as loud and rambunctious as he pleased. But not this time. Instead, he was sat on one of the couches, nursing a butterbeer. He was still enjoying everything around him, but his mind was elsewhere.
It was lingering on your smile, your little wave. The fact that you had come down to the pitch. If you hated him for kissing you, you weren’t showing it. He could talk to you tomorrow.
James met you in the library after lunch. Same table as always. He walked up to the table, standing at the chair to your left.
“Can I sit here?” he asked.
You looked up from the essay section you were reading.
“Or I can sit over there, if you’d prefer,” he added.
“You can sit here,” you said.
He sat down and started taking his things out of his bag. He was prepared to work with you and focus solely on the project for Potions. At least he was sitting next to you and you weren’t grimacing at his presence.
“So… last week…” you said, not looking up from the essay.
James froze.
“You, um, you said there was something here?”
James stumbled over his words, “Oh, um, I-I, well, yes. I did. I did say that.”
“Do you know how to… describe it, um, without kissing me?” you asked.
You thumbed the corner of the parchment in front of you. It was better than looking at James at the moment. James’ face tinged red. He ran a hand through hair and chuckled nervously.
“I think there is,” he said. “I, um, I kissed you to be sure. And I’m sorry about that. It’s just, with everything between us… I wasn’t sure what I was feeling.”
“Okay… And you were feeling… what?”
“Well, it’s certainly not the hatred I was feeling for years,” he said with a soft chuckle.
“Clearly.”
“I don’t know when it changed exactly. It’s still a strong feeling, but… the opposite, I guess.”
“The opposite,” you repeated.
“Yeah.”
There was a moment of silence between you.
“So…” James flexed his hands on top of the table. “You did kiss me back…”
“Right. I did.”
“So…” James repeated, except this time he didn’t say anything more. But he did turn his head slightly to see your face. Another moment of silence. “Do you… feel… something?”
“It’s… not hatred.”
“Okay.”
You swallowed, still looking at the parchment in front of you.
“You played well yesterday,” you said, which most certainly didn’t help James understand where you stood.
“Thank? you?”
“I was going to tell you yesterday.”
“Why didn’t you?” James asked, thinking back to your little wave.
“You were-“ You gave your hand a small flourish in front of you. “-in the middle of it all.”
“I could’ve come to you.”
“Right, because Gryffindor’s star chaser exchanges pleasantries with his Slytherin nemesis.”
“Nemesis… Are we still that?” He ran a hand through his hair. “I don’t know if-“
You cut him off. It was one fluid motion, you rising slightly from your chair, putting your hand on his cheek to turn his face toward you and then leaning in to kiss him. James was almost immediate to kiss you back.
After a few seconds, you pulled back and he leaned in further, trying to continue. You sat down with your gaze straight ahead, feeling mortified. Had you really just initiated a kiss with James Potter?
You cleared your throat. “Sorry. Madam Pince will, um, kick us out if she sees.”
“Right, she would do that,” James said, adjusting how he was sitting.
Silence.
“I need to know. If it’s not hatred… what do you think this is?” James asked you.
“Confusing. It’s confusing.”
“Um. Okay… One second…”
James quickly stacked the few things he’d taken out and put them at the corner of the table. Then he leaned over you to do the same thing to your stuff. You watched him. He turned his chair to completely face you and then he turned your chair for you, with you still in it.
“Talk to me, sweetheart. What’s confusing about it?”
You let out a short laugh. He had to be joking, right?
“We’ve hated each other since the moment we met? And now we’re kissing?” You shook your head. “I can’t make it make sense.”
“Well, I feel strong emotions toward you and I think you feel strong emotions toward me. We both think the other is strikingly fit and kissing you isn’t like kissing anyone else. So, in my most humble opinion, I think we should see what happens.”
“Those strong emotions haven’t been positive, like ever. And so what if we both hit puberty? That happens. It happens to everyone.”
“Sweetheart, not everyone looks like you though.”
“Potter.”
“Sorry.”
“You say you want to see what happens. I don’t even know if I can like you. We’ve never been friends. If we… dated-” The word came out weird as your brain tried to comprehend the idea of you and James together. “-I’m almost positive it would go up in flames.”
James hummed. “There’s that pessimism.”
“Only when it comes to you.”
“What do I have to do to get you to take a chance with me?” He grinned at you while taking your hands in his. “To admit that maybe we were wrong about each other all this time?”
You took a minute to think. James kept his eyes on you, patiently waiting and calculating what else he could say to convince you that he really thought the two of you could make it work. He genuinely believed that if you both felt something, it was worth a shot. Plus, he figured, you already knew each other quite well from having to learn what ticked the other off.
“After we finish this project, admit that you’re not as important as bonbons and get me the bowl of them you stole from me.”
“They weren’t even that good,” James said.
“Well, I wouldn’t know that, now would I?”
He chuckled and then brought one of your hands to his lips.
If you are up for it, could you please write something with poly!marauders x reader who is in labour (their baby) ? I just imagine how chaotic it would be !
Thank you Xx
this was funnier in my head than it turned out on paper, but I hope I managed to do it justice! thanks for your request <33
poly!marauders x fem!reader who is in active labour [950 words]
CW: pregnancy fic, hospital setting, contractions/pain and heart monitors, fluff
It was currently all hands on deck.
One person was in charge of the handheld fan that had been suggested by Lily to pack in your hospital bag. Someone else was in charge of ice chips and wiping the sweat from furrowed brows, and the third was in charge of offering a hand to squeeze (read: pulverise).
“You’re doing so well, love. Just keep breathing.” Remus murmured gently, replacing the cup of ice chips in his hand with a damp flannel.
The lacy, bedazzled hand fan in Sirius’ hand was hardly visible with how quickly he was moving it; the wind strong enough to displace even Sirius’ own onyx strands.
“We’ve got you,” Sirius added fervently, “you’re alright, you’re almost through it.”
And you? You were on hand-holding duty – the most efficient and effective hand-holder Remus thought he has ever seen, even in the throes of labour – giving James’ hand an affectionate squeeze from your place in your hospital bed. “You’re okay, Jamie.”
James, for his part, had some colour returning to his face, but having watched the sod fall to the ground like dead weight mere moments ago had given the three of you quite the fright.
“Christ, Jamie. What the hell was that about?” Sirius finally hissed, the fan slowing now that James seemed to be through the thick of whatever nervous fit he just had.
James had the grace to look a little sheepish, stealing a glance your way as he offered a chagrined shrug of his shoulders. “That last contraction seemed really intense…”
Remus snorted. “An empath, eh?”
“You starting to feel some of those sympathy pains the doctors have been talking about for the past nine months?” Sirius asked through a laugh.
“Be nice to him,” you chided the boys, giving James’ hand another squeeze whilst Sirius moved to sit on the edge of your raised bed, “his blood pressure just wreaked havoc on his system.”
“I think I’m entitled to be a little miffed with him.” Sirius argued haughtily. “I’m here trying to make sure my partner who is in active labour is safe and as comfortable as possible and he’s over there dropping like a Victorian damsel.”
“He got a little too excited.” Remus offered neutrally, of the mind that James kind of needed to get it together for your sake whilst simultaneously finding it horribly endearing that James was so excited about the upcoming arrival of the newest family member that his nervous system quite literally crashed.
You let out a sound half way between a groan and a sigh as you shifted on the bed. “It’s okay to be nervous, Jamie.”
“Are you nervous, dove?” Remus asked then as he redirected his attention to you, standing and abandoning his position of James’ ‘wet flannel guy’ in favour of becoming yours.
Your eyes were closed and your face was serious; not quite pinched in pain – not yet – but focused, concentrated.
And then your heart rate spiked, revealed by the monitor now playing the increasingly familiar song of the delicate line between anguish and euphoria you’d been dancing for hours now.
“‘Nother contraction starting?” Sirius surmised as he stood too, offering you a hand to squeeze just as you had done for James moments before.
“Yeah.” You managed on an exhale, eyes still shut like you were solving a difficult maths equation as you twisted your hips; pain no doubt radiating from your hips and shooting up your spine.
“Do you need us to get a nurse, doll?”
You considered the offer with furrowed brows though you were pretty quick to shake your head no.
“Not yet,” you sighed, lowering your hips back onto the bed as you chanced a look over at James who was sitting frozen in his chair, colour quickly draining from his face once again, “maybe keep an eye on him, though.”
With this, Sirius turned to look at James over his shoulder and let out a derisive sigh before making his way over to him. “Fuckin’ hell, James. Get it together, babe.”
You huffed a little laugh as Remus took over Sirius’ job as hand holder; eager to be both the flannel guy and a hand to crush should you need one.
“If he thinks this is bad,” you whispered as though anything louder would cause your words to turn into a groan or whine, “what’s he going to do during delivery?”
Remus bent over to press a kiss to your damp brow. “Don’t you worry about him, dove. Sirius and I have a birth plan of our own.”
“Which is?” You asked, pupils blown and eyes glassy as you look up into Remus’ own, though his pupils were no doubt blown and his eyes were glassy for very different reasons.
“We have nurse Effie on call. She’s on standby for James interference.”
You were just beginning to laugh when your heart monitor spiked again, seeing you curl into yourself with a pained whimper.
“Okay, alright, dove. You okay? Do you want to call the nurse now?”
Remus was so focused on you that he missed James’ panicky whispered “oh god.”
“Yeah, I-” you cut yourself off with a groan “-yeah, please call the nurse.”
“Okay, dove.” Remus agreed readily, reaching over you to press the call button.
This time, there was no missing James’ harried “oh god, oh my god!”
“Please call Effie too.” You keened in response.
Remus quickly nodded. “Code E, Pads.”
“On it!” Sirius barked, abandoning a quickly spiralling James in favour of calling for backup.
“Four of us and we still need to call for help.” Remus sighed just as the nurse arrived to take your measurements. “It really does take a village.”
➻ 5 people james didn't mean to kiss (and one he did)
title says it all -- james potter is a very affectionate person
➻ lifeguard!james x reader masterlist
➻ a little man power
neighbour!james meets you as you're moving into the building
➻ overheard that she was nineteen
you're sad on your 19th birthday but james is there to make you feel better
➻ summer friends 2
you and james both get made head counsellors at your summer camp but bump heads a few times in the process
➻ our names in the paper
footballer!james x sports journalist!reader enemies to lovers, 11k
➻ wrapping paper
you and james wrap presents together but he's not very skilled at it
➻ snowball fights
it's christmas lunch at the lupins and james is the only one willing to play in the snow with you
➻ too sweet [smut]
james is a munch and wants you to sit on his face... enough said
➻ heart shaped doodles
you get given james' paper instead of your own and see all of his embarrassing doodles
➻ bothersome
you and james can't stop bothering each other in class
➻ let things go [pushing it down and praying]
cleaning out your apartment for your boyfriend to move in, you find some mementos and figure out you're not as over your ex as you thought
➻ who's your friend?
james tries a pick up line on you at a party
➻ 1980s horror film
clerks au-ish: convenience store worker!james x video store worker! reader surviving in a small town
➻ forever ain't too long
soulmate au where you can feel + heal their pain
➻ high stakes & high seas
you're kidnapped by pirates for political leverage and meet their charming captain
➻ making pizza with james hcs
➻ the nearest boy!
it's a tradition that if your knife hits the bottom when cutting a cake, you have to kiss the nearest boy...
➻ james x black sister!reader hcs
➻ james and whimsical!reader
➻ james potter and the ridiculous hogwarts rule book
the hogwarts rules say girls aren't allowed to wear the trousers. you and james both think that's bullshit
➻ dacryphilia & deepthroating with james [smut]
➻ exhibitionism with merman!james [smut]
➻ biting james' biceps [smut]
➻ halloween night
the few halloweens you spend with james
➻ ghosts in the basement
jatp!au. you find some cute ghosts in the uni rehearsal room. you're not really in the mood.
➻ tell me you like me for real
james keeps flirting with you and you don't believe it's real for a long time
➻ poolside
trying to study at the pool, you catch james after a training session
➻ when the world watches
you and james are in a secret relationship due to your careers as sports journalist and footballer. this all becomes unstable as you enter the world cup
jily ✩
➻ mister carter masterlist [smut]
james is your pervy boss and he and his wife take a special interest in you
remus lupin ✩
➻ kiss me on the dance floor
you and remus keep meeting in the bathroom at parties whilst holding your friend's hair back
➻ the way i see you
you're an artist and you wish your best friend could see himself the way you see him, but you endeavour to try
➻ lonely dancers [suggestive]
you and remus find comfort in each other amongst your shitty love lives
➻ oral w/ scare actor!remus [smut]
➻ sex work w/ loser!remus [smut]
sirius black ✩
➻ tell me when you're sober
sirius calls you drunk at a house party and confesses something he probably shouldn't
➻ red carpets
both actors in different projects, you see sirius on the red carpet of an awards show and think he's gorgeous
➻ christmas eve
you finally meet your boyfriend's friends at Christmas eve dinner
➻ new year's day
you're scared you've just messed up your entire friendship with Sirius, but he might feel the same way you do
➻ sex pollen w/ sirius [smut]
a potion gone wrong drives you both crazy
marlene mckinnon ✩
➻ roadtrip hcs
➻ marls teaching you how to orgasm [smut]
➻ star player [smut]
tennis player!marlene shows you behind the scenes, especially how she can use her racquet...
james potter and the ridiculous hogwarts rule book - james potter x fem!reader
wc: 4339
summary: it's 1978 and girls at hogwarts aren't allowed to wear pants as the school uniform. you think its bullshit and james can't watch injustice happen
me: is this a bit male saviour and intensely ridiculous? yes. but also this is fanfiction and i would like for jamie to be looking out for me
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History of Magic was killing you. You swore time moved slower when you entered that classroom, a minute lasted an hour. You didn’t even know why you picked it, really; you just had another subject slot to fill and figured it would be easy enough. You were wrong. And, as if you weren’t struggling enough, you could hardly even focus because bloody Richard Dwyer wouldn’t stop flirting and bothering you.
“C’mon, go out with me this weekend,” He pleaded with the air of a teenage boy who was desperately trying to pretend he didn’t care.
“Look, I’m sorry, I just don’t like you like that,” You whispered so as not to be heard by the rest of the class, though you were sure the surrounding tables heard Richard’s proposal.
He glowered for a minute, sitting in his upset before raising his hand, tall and imposing in the otherwise still classroom. You knew at once he wasn’t up to anything good.
“Professor,” He called, a manufactured depth in his voice to make himself look manly, “She’s wearing pants. Isn’t that against school rules?”
Professor Binns paused his lecture, gesturing for you to stand up. You obliged, glaring through Richard. If looks could kill, he’d be dead on the floor. You wished he were.
“Unfortunately, that is against the women’s dress code.” You had ten points taken from your house. Your mouth dropped open, truly offended.
Yes, technically, the girls weren’t allowed to wear the school pants; the rules hadn’t changed, probably since the school was created. Yes, you were probably one of the only girls to wear the pants. But you were hardly ever pulled up on it, it was the 70s, for god’s sake! The teachers had bigger things to worry about. And it was cold. You shouldn’t have to put up with your legs freezing off in the depths of winter just because you were a girl.
“That’s not fair!” You argued back, painfully aware that the whole classroom was staring at you. “It’s minus three degrees right now, and there’s no bloody heating in this castle. I am freezing, and a little school skirt and some stockings are not conducive to my focus! Don’t mention the absolutely abhorrent misogynistic overtone of you enforcing my wardrobe—”
You were interrupted by Binns snapping your name, “That is quite enough,” He said.
Two minutes later, you were another twenty points down and wandering the hallways. Binns had sent you to your head of house for discipline, but you thought that was ridiculous. You weren’t getting a detention for wearing some fucking pants. Figures the ghost professor’s values were as old as his rotting corpse.
You enjoyed the quiet of the castle whilst classes were in session, just you and the castle’s natural ambience as you stewed in your frustration. At least, until you heard the echo of school shoes approaching from behind.
You chose not to turn around, hoping they’d pass you and you could continue your self-pitying. Luck was not on your side.
“You okay?” James Potter asked from behind you, and your brows furrowed. That was not who you were expecting. A teacher, maybe, to tell you off for being out of class. Richard, to continue antagonising you for turning him down. Not James Potter.
“How did you find me?” You’d twisted and turned through the castle, it statistically made no sense that James would have taken the same path unless he’d followed you, which was weird.
“Lucky guess.” He shrugged, “Anyway, that was really unfair. You didn’t deserve it.”
“You don’t have to tell me,” You grumbled, continuing on your path and forcing James to catch up if he wanted to continue talking, “Every fucking person at this school is fifty years behind. As if my wearing pants is a real fuckin’ issue.”
“Yeah, it’s outdated. You should tell someone about it, change things.”
“You’re making fun of me.” You stopped to stare at him, frown present on your lips. James hated it.
“I’m not!” He insisted, like he was actually surprised you were accusing him of it, “I think it’s really shitty.”
“What would I even do? The rules are there because someone thinks they’re right — why would I be able to change their minds just because I don’t want to wear a skirt?”
“Okay, but it’s probably not just you, right? I mean, the girls wear jeans and trousers all the time, I’m sure someone else would like to wear the trousers if they weren’t afraid of getting in trouble. It only takes one person to start making change.”
“I don’t want to ‘make change’, I just want to not be freezing in the dead of winter.”
“Yeah, but —”
“Look, Potter. I appreciate whatever it is you’re trying to do, I can tell by the puppy eyes you’re trying to be nice, but I don’t want to make any more drama than I’ve already been in. I’ll take the points off and the detention Binns’ll probably give me when he finds out I skipped the rest of class. Not everyone likes the spotlight.”
With that, you left him in the middle of the corridor, hopeless and floundering at your attitude.
As he recounted it to Lily later in their shared Charms class, she just rolled her eyes. When James asked for elaboration, she sighed good-naturedly.
“You’re not friends with her, James. Think about it from her perspective: she just got shamed by a guy who asked her out, humiliated by a teacher in front of a whole class for a ridiculous reason, and then you come along. A guy she’s spoken to maybe a few times over the years, chasing her after this whole ordeal, pestering her to be some harbinger of social change. I know you meant well, but you forget you can come on a bit strong.”
James sat back in his seat, hardly listening as Flitwick explained whatever charm he was supposed to be practising. He considered what Lily said, and supposed he maybe was a little intense.
He just couldn’t help it. James saw something wrong, an injustice happening right before his eyes; he had to do something about it. It was hard for him to understand that not everyone worked the same way. Maybe you really were just okay with taking some points off even when you didn’t deserve it.
James tried to accept that and move on with his day, trying to forget about it and finish his classes.
He’d mostly pushed it to the back of his mind until later that evening, right before curfew. James was walking back to the Gryffindor common room after a meeting with Slughorn, going over notes from his latest essay. He was humming a tune Remus had played for him the other day, though he couldn’t remember its name.
As he passed by the courtyard, admiring the flowers and plants under the moonlight, he heard a hiccup-y sob coming from behind a concrete pillar lining the grassy square.
James froze, not wanting to intrude on someone’s private moment. He went to retrace his steps and find a different path back to his dorm when he turned to an angle just perfect enough to catch a glance of you, eyes red-rimmed and puffy as you were obviously sobbing.
“I feel so stupid,” You cried to whoever was with you, probably a friend or roommate, “He called me out in front of the whole class. Everyone was staring at me, and he just kept going. God, I never want to go to class again.”
“I’m sure it’s not that bad,” James heard your unseen friend comfort you, sympathy clear in her voice, “Everyone’ll forget by tomorrow.”
You huffed, wiping your eyes furiously.
“Whatever, I just hope Dwyer doesn’t sit next to me again. If he asks me out one more time and has a fit when I say no, I’m gonna hex him.”
James had heard enough and was starting to feel guilty for eavesdropping, backing away silently. His perception of you had changed, though.
Until today, you’d never really had a meaningful conversation with him, and he’d always thought you were unaffected by school gossip and social dynamics. Now he could see you were hiding behind the cool exterior and fiery attitude. Deep down, you were just as afraid of your peers’ opinions as everyone else.
It comforted him, in a way, to know that you were just like the rest of your classmates. However, his heart clenched when he realised that maybe everyone thought of you the way he had previously — who was looking out for you? Making you feel better?
He voiced that thought to his roommates after curfew had passed, orange lamplight illuminating each of them.
“Why don’t you help her, then?” Remus asked with a tone both exasperated and amused.
“I think I’ve already made her mad enough.”
“Then don’t do something to her, do something that shows the teachers how ridiculous things are,” Sirius suggested as a throwaway, concerned by the way James’ eyes lit up with mischief.
You weren’t one to pay attention to what James Potter was doing, but you were somewhat concerned when you’d heard whispers about him all day. It usually meant a prank had been pulled off. When added to the seemingly knowing looks thrown your way, an anxious pit grew in your stomach.
You didn’t have to wait long, you had History of Magic just before lunch. You were first there, trying to go unnoticed after your outburst the day before. After most of the classroom had filed in and quietened down, James walked in. Wearing a school skirt.
Giggles rippled through the classroom as he held his head high, sauntering over to sit next to you. You pointedly refused to look at him, staring down at your notes and wishing the ground would swallow you whole.
How dare he? You had told him that you wanted to forget about it — that you didn’t want any drama. And not only did he not respect that, he had to make fun of you about it, too. James Potter had never sat next to you in his life, but chose to while doing the exact thing that got you in trouble the day after it happened? James Potter was a cruel, cruel boy, and you wanted nothing to do with him.
You paid more attention in one lesson than you probably had all year, eyes trained on Binns. Even though you didn’t like him, right now, you were infinitely more mad at James.
“Sir?” Sirius asked, doing a terrible job of acting natural, “James is wearing a skirt.” Binns paused, looking more tired than anything.
“Potter, what are you doing?”
“I run hot, Professor, I thought this would help me feel better. Besides, doesn’t it suit me?”
Binns sighed, and for a moment, you did empathise with him, both of you utterly sick of James and his antics.
“Unfortunately, mister Potter, as we discussed yesterday, this is against the school rules. To be fair, I’ll have to take ten points from Gryffindor.”
“Actually, Professor. In the official school rules — section three, subsection four, clause two — it actually only dictates that female students cannot wear the trousers as part of the school uniform; there is nothing that says I can’t wear a skirt.” James presented an excerpt of the school rules with a flourish.
Binns summoned it, holding it at a length to examine it even with bad vision.
“It seems you’re right, Mister Potter. I owe you and your… preferences an apology.”
You were absolutely fuming. He was showing off in some sick, twisted way. That he could do whatever he wanted, maybe. That he didn’t get in trouble when you did. That it was a man’s world. Whatever it was, you hated him.
The second class was over, you were out of the room, storming through the hall like you had something to prove. You did. You had to prove that whatever sick joke he was playing on you wasn’t affecting you.
James was a bit dumbfounded, to be honest. He thought he was doing the right thing, the honourable thing, but you hadn’t reacted at all how he’d expected. He thought you’d be grateful, or flattered, not angry.
He chased you down the hall, skirt fluttering with each movement.
“Hey!” He called, catching up to you easily. You didn’t stop, stomping through the corridor as tears brimmed in your eyes. “Wait!”
You whirled around, marching up to James with such fury that he stumbled a few steps back.
“What?” You yelled, accusatory finger pointed at him, “Are you happy with yourself? Do you feel good about what you’ve done?”
You were causing a scene, but you paid the bystanders no mind.
“What are you talking about?” James looked genuinely confused, but you knew that was part of his act. You saw it play out all the time when the marauders were confronted about their pranks. “I was trying to help.”
“How? By embarrassing me? Pointing out to everyone that I’m the freak who won’t wear the right uniform?”
“That’s not what I was trying to do at all, are you crazy?” James was getting heated in the face of your arguing, insulted as his ego was struck.
“So now you’re calling me crazy? Real great work you’re doing today.”
“Jesus fuck, you’re killing me. I was trying to help.”
“Then stop helping!” You yelled, and the onlookers around you stopped talking. “Who asked you to? Just get out of my life!”
You took off down the hall, feet echoing loudly as hushed whispers followed you. Bile shot up your throat, burning your oesophagus as you had to hunch out an arched window, emptying the contents of your stomach.
You had never been more humiliated in your entire life. It was all James’ fault. You spent the rest of the night hiding away in an abandoned classroom, sobs wracking through your body. You would never forgive James.
The next day, he was back at it, long legs on display as he strutted through the Great Hall to breakfast. You had to admit, you were confused. This whole thing was to embarrass you, yes? But James’ mission was more than successful the day before; people were still mocking you about your very public blowup, he didn’t need to do it again. Plus, James was too intelligent to drag out a joke past its prime, it was practically his life’s mission to be the best class clown in the school. So what was he playing at?
You didn’t have to wait long. Sitting in transfiguration, you waited for the other shoe to drop. James entered the classroom, strutting up to his spot in the third row of desks.
“Mister Potter,” McGonagall sighed, giving him an exasperated once over, “What are you doing?”
“I’m taking a stand,” He said, standing to give the classroom a twirl of his pleated skirt, to an array of quiet laughs. “I was perusing the official school rules, as I am often inclined to do. This particular instance, I couldn’t help but notice the rampant misogyny of the uniform rules — the girls are forced to only wear the skirt while the men are allowed to do what they want. So I’m taking a stand against the blatant injustice happening right in our school!”
You stared at him, eyes narrowed as you tried to discern the truth. Was he still making fun of you and your ‘SJW rant’ as it had been coined by some of the assholes in your class? Or was he actually being genuine? You decided that couldn’t be the case, James Potter had always prioritised being funny over being good. He had since he was eleven years old.
McGonagall seemed to share your doubts, giving him a long, suspicious look. After what felt like an hour —but was probably 15 seconds — she gave him a small nod. James grinned, a clear victory for him, and shot a glance back to where you were sitting, a minute smile sitting on the edge of his lips.
McGonagall caught the moment and set her eyes on you. You swallowed. She’d always been the professor you thought understood you the most, she’d never told you off for wearing the wrong uniform, and you really hoped she wouldn’t start now.
“Are you part of this crusade, as well?”
“No,” You said, too quickly, “I’m just — I’m just cold.” Your professor nodded with pursed lips.
McGonagall moved on to teaching her class, but you couldn’t stop staring at James. You weren’t convinced; the cynical, embarrassed part of you still had major doubts that this wasn’t some long-term prank to humiliate you. And yet, at the same time, why would James make a speech like that if he didn’t mean it? He could’ve said anything, made a joke about turning into a pansy, which would have gotten a lot more laughs and turned the attention on you again, bringing up years of rumours from your tomboy-ish habits.
What you hated more than your uncertainty, though, was the fact that James looked really good in a skirt. Years of quidditch had defined his body, and seeing his exposed legs, the defined calves and muscles, had you imagining things that should definitely not be pictured in the classroom.
So yeah, you weren’t having a great day.
You ended up hearing the same spiel several times throughout the day — to his credit, James had clearly decided on his story, for better or worse. And maybe, just maybe, you were starting to believe him. Deep in your heart, you wanted James to be a good guy, to be acting because he really believed it was unjust, even if that was far-fetched.
The skirt debacle continued for the rest of the week, and James quickly got the rest of his friends involved, too. The Gryffindor boys and girls started wearing skirts and school trousers, respectively, and each had the same explanation when questioned: it was an unjust rule, and any student should be able to wear whichever piece of the Hogwarts uniform they were most comfortable in.
Slowly, you started to come around. Every time James performed his monologue, he’d spare a single, lingering look at you, like he was begging you to believe him. Like he was doing it for you.
After five days of showing up in skirts, you cornered Lily, desperate for answers.
“What is he doing?” You asked as you both washed your hands in the girls' bathroom.
“What do you mean?” She asked, rubbing the soap around her fingers.
“Potter. What is he up to with this skirt business? Is he making fun of me or not?” Lily’s face morphed into understanding, brows creasing with pity.
“That’s what you think he’s been doing all week? Teasing you for choosing to wear pants?”
You stalled, unsure of how to answer. When she said it like that, it seemed ridiculous, but then how come you kept getting embarrassed by the things he’d done?
“Listen,” Lily continued gently, “I know that James is headstrong, and obnoxious, and comes at things the wrong way sometimes… But deep down — and I’m sure you know it pains me to say this — James is a really great guy. He is impulsive, true, but only because he feels things so deeply. He can’t sit by while he sees injustice happen, even if he doesn’t think through how he’s going to fix it.”
“Oh,” You said, blinking owlishly as you tried to understand what she was saying. “Oh, well… thank you.”
You stumbled out of the bathroom, a million and one thoughts clouding your mind. You felt so foolish, lashing out at James when he really was just trying to help. Shame rose through your body, a nauseating, sickly sensation settling in your stomach again.
You didn’t go to dinner that night, too ashamed of your screaming match with James after everything you’d learnt. James noticed, a sinking feeling dragging down his posture as he thought he might have finally gone too far, embarrassed you one too many times.
“Fuck,” He put his head in his hands at the long dining table, “I’ve scared her off forever.”
“So what, I’ve been wearing a skirt for nothing?” Peter asked with a huff, stabbing dejectedly at his potatoes.
“She’ll be fine, James,” Lily said, rubbing her hand lightly on his bicep, “I think she’s just overwhelmed. Give her some time to sort out her feelings. I don’t think she’s used to other people taking care of her.”
James nodded, picking himself up and calming himself down.
“You’re right,” He said, speeding through the rest of his dinner.
That weekend, James sat in the library, stressing greatly over the letter he was constructing. It was easier to be brash, to make grand gestures and show exactly what he was thinking. But saying it? Making sure he was polite, and well-expressed, that he was eloquent and professional? That was difficult.
It would be worth it, though. That’s what he kept believing. He could prove that he was good, that he was trying to do something good.
On Monday morning, you walked into the Great Hall like any other morning, tired, hungry and ready for some tea. You didn’t mean to look at James as you entered, but your eyes immediately flickered down to his bare legs, hardly covered by the school skirt he’d obviously borrowed from one of his girl friends.
You hadn’t meant to look, but when James locked eyes with you and gave you a surprisingly anxious smile, you couldn’t help returning it. A peace offering, of sorts.
Still, you sat with your own friends at breakfast, picking at your food despite your hunger. Your guilt made it difficult to eat. You felt bad for yelling at James after you’d learned he was only trying to help, and breakfast didn’t particularly sit well with those feelings in your stomach.
Dumbledore cleared his throat as he raised to his lectern, and the hall hushed, awaiting his announcement.
“After… much encouragement, there is going to be a change to our school rules. Starting today, students of all identities may choose between the school trousers or skirt, with full permission.”
There was only a beat of silence before James and his friends started cheering, much louder than was necessary for a simple change of school rules. But there they were, hooting and hollering in their skirts, despite the fact that you knew none of them would ever wear one again.
Your smile came without warning, warming your whole face as you took in the truth you’d been avoiding: James had done it with only good intentions. He’d done it for you.
Just before your first class started, you dragged James into an abandoned corridor, momentarily surprised by your proximity. You let him go, taking a small step back.
“I’m sorry.” You both said in unison, hesitating as you both stuttered to go next.
“I’m sorry if I took it too far,” James took the lead, “I just — I get so single-minded when I see a problem I think I can fix. I can’t just let it go, but I know that that’s not what everyone wants. So, I’m sorry that I went overboard and made you uncomfortable.”
“No, no!” You assured him, hand back on his arm. “Look, I know that I can be abrasive. Aggressive. I just... haven’t had someone do anything like that for me before, I guess I just didn’t think it was possible without an ulterior motive. I’m sorry that I let my own insecurity get in the way, and I’m sorry I blew up at you for no reason — very publicly.”
“Yeah, it was really public, wasn’t it?” James’ hand snuck up to rub the back of his neck, looking around awkwardly. You met eyes for a moment before both dissolving into fits of laughter.
“Friends?” You held a hand for him to shake.
“Friends. Or…” He took your joined hands and interlocked your fingers before you knew what was happening. “Something more?”
“Wh- what do you mean?”
“I mean, I think that you’re interesting, and unexpected, and I like that you can yell. Though I hope I never have to be on the receiving end of it again, I like that you stick up for yourself, that you’re not afraid to take up space.”
You smiled, wide and bright and the opposite of what you ever thought you’d be doing in the presence of James Potter.
“Okay, well, maybe we could go out to Hogsmeade together sometime?” You asked, playing with your sleeve nervously. “But only if you promise to wear a skirt.”
“That can be arranged,” James threw an arm over your shoulder, walking you both to class. “Besides, I actually think it’s a good look for me. I mean, I do have great legs.”
You shoved him with a laugh, pushing him off you before you entered the classroom. You looked quite the pair, you in your trousers and James in his skirt, both sporting matching grins.
summary: you and james can't help but bother each other whenever you sit together in class
me: this was so sweet and fun to write i love having someone to annoy in classes <3 it's also 2:30am rn so if anything doesn't make sense its coz im delirious! i believe r is gn/no pronouns used by lmk if i have slipped up!
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“shut up!” you hissed, a laugh threatening to spill out of you. james shook his head with a devious grin.
“am i not entertaining you?” he pretended to be hurt, pulling puppy dog eyes as he leant closer.
“you,” you pushed his face away with your hand, “are impeding on my education. i would like to listen to mcgonagall, thank you.” you really did try to focus on what your professor was saying, but james was making it exceedingly difficult.
james was twirling his wand between the fingers of his non-dominant hand, a habit you both found entrancing and incessantly annoying. you loved watching the muscles and ligaments stretching and transforming, james’ hands were endlessly interesting to you. however, it was really impacting your ability to focus on transfiguration.
“five galleons for you to flick it on the floor,” you whispered, shifting even closer so only james would hear it. he looked over at you, momentarily surprised by the lack of space between your faces, then straightened himself out, pulling on his signature mischief-making smile.
“you really should know better than to make a bet with me, love,” he chided playfully.
then you were watching it happen. the wand running smoothly between james’ long fingers before flinging through the air, halfway across the classroom. because james potter never did anything by half, the wand gained impressive velocity, flying over the head of marlene mckinnon and lily evans who sat in front of her, clattering loudly on the floor by lily’s feet.
mcgonagall paused her lecture, eyes zeroing in on the wand. before she could ask any questions, james was up like a rocket, apologising loudly and dramatically to the whole class as you slapped a hand over your mouth to stop any mortified giggles seeping out.
“mister potter, may i suggest keeping your wand out of your hands when not casting spells?”
“of course, professor. honestly, i don’t know what came over me — some sort of seizure, perhaps?” james was far too coy to be genuine, and everyone knew it. still, mcgonagall only gave him a long stare, then resumed her lecture as james made the humiliating walk of shame back to his seat.
“pay up,” james whispered, nudging you enthusiastically. you sighed, dramatising your upset. you drudged around in your robe pockets for a few coins, putting them silently in james’ outstretched hand.
you quickly redirected your focus to the lecture unfolding before you, naively believing james was done with your attention.
“do you think if we asked really nicely, minnie would let us hex all the slytherins so their skin’s green for a week?” he asked in what was definitely too loud for the circumstances, affirmed by mcgonagall reprimanding him.
“mister potter, i hope this is not you trying to interrupt my class.” she stared him down as you covered your face with your hands beside him. “if you were creating distractions after your… medical episode, i would suggest that you were perhaps ill? perhaps unable to attend quidditch training this afternoon?”
that certainly got james’ attention and he shook his head vehemently, falling dead silent for the remainder of the lesson.
whilst you were safe for the remainder of transfiguration, in potions he was back in full force.
“why do you do this to me?” you sighed good-naturedly as james slipped into the bench next to you. “what if i was saving that seat for someone?”
“you don’t have any other friends. it’s not kind to lie, love.” james’ eyes twinkled in a way that distracted you for a moment before you came to your senses and huffed.
“i have friends, idiot. you just keep taking up all my time so i can’t ever hang out with them.”
“you love me,” james sang, throwing an arm around your shoulder. you shrugged it off, trying your best to look annoyed.
“i tolerate you, and even that’s being kind.” you pushed him away as slughorn approached the front of the classroom to start his spiel.
you barely got through the first five minutes before james was getting restless, straying from class notes to writing dumb jokes and poking you until you caved and read them.
a particularly dirty one had you snorting down at your desk and praying no one would notice. james delighted in your breaking, grasping your arm and shaking you around as he laughed until you had to hit him.
“you’re so annoying,” you hissed, your tone unfortunately lacking any bite.
you reached your quill over to james’ paper, scratching out a childish james potter is a huge idiot!
james’ mouth dropped open in faux despair, screwing his features and thinking up a reply.
you’re an idiot he replied.
so creative
shut up. you’re annoying
“are we having issues over here? does anybody need another piece of parchment?” slughorn surprised you both. you didn’t realise you’d been so distracted writing stupid messages over james’ notes you hadn’t even heard him approach.
“no!” you jumped away from james, inches between you. “i just wanted, uh, clarification on the, uh, application. sorry.” james did nothing to help you, just nodding serenely and relying on the charm of his smile.
“alright,” slughorn nodded as if he didn’t believe a word you said, “if you need any help you’re more than welcome to schedule a meeting with me after class.”
“of course, thanks, professor.” you smiled meekly, embarrassment clear on your features.
as soon as slughorn’s back was turned, you were hitting james in the bicep repeatedly, punishment for humiliating you. unfortunately, he took it in stride, easily overpowering you and manhandling you so you were facing back towards your paper.
“you heard him,” james teased, “and if you have to stay back after class you’ll lose all that precious time to hang out with your alleged other friends.”
“i literally hate you.”
sirius and remus sat behind you both, observing the class with identical disbelieving looks.
“there is no way they don’t realise,” sirius said, eyes wide and eyebrows raised.
“i really don’t think they do.” remus shook his head, scribbling down the instructions slughorn was listing from his desk.
summary - james insists on teaching you the one charm you don't know, and you're not sure why he's blushing so bad when your patronus is finally revealed
you were all sat in the common room, you next to marlene with your charms textbook flopped open in front of you on the floor, and the boys surrounding you both discussing the most recent defense against the dark arts class.
"i'm not surprised at mine," sirius said, leaning back against the sofa with a grin.
"no one's surprised at yours, it's a damn dog," marlene answered with a roll of her eyes, laughing as he threw a pillow at her face, which she caught just barely before it knocked into you too.
you looked up at him with a frown, gesturing to where you were scribbling your essay onto a piece of parchment. "sirius, come on. i can't have you smudging the ink."
"yeah, sirius-ly pay attention," james teased, leaning forward from where he was sat on the couch behind you and placing his hands on your shoulders, only bothering you more. "bugs here has an essay due soon."
"isn't it due next week?" peter asked with a quirked brow.
"yes, but i'd like it to be done now," you answered, shrugging james' hands off as he laughed again.
"well, i think you should be focusing on defense against the dark arts instead of charms," sirius said, grinning as you turned to glare at him. "your charms scores are excellent, but defense...? think you need to work on those, love."
"what?" remus asked, looking up from his own textbook to shoot you a curious look. "you're struggling with defense?"
"no," you defended.
"yes," sirius continued with a laugh. "she couldn't get her patronus today."
you glared at him, leaning over to smack him in the shoulder as he kept giggling on. marlene rolled her eyes and james frowned behind you.
"you couldn't?" he asked you, pulling your hand away from sirius and letting you rip it out of his grasp anyways. "but, you're an expert at charms. i swear you had half of them down in first year before remus or lily even did."
"i disagree!"
you couldn't help but laugh as you glanced over at lily as she sat in the corner with alice, both working on their own essays for whichever extra classes they'd chosen to take this year. you gave her a playful roll of your eyes as she turned back to her parchment with a teasing smile.
you didn't come anywhere close to any of her class scores except for one and that was charms - everyone in sixth year knew you were the expert at charms. even compared to geniuses lily evans and remus lupin.
"apparently not defense charms," you answered james with a short sigh, turning back to the essay at hand.
he stared at you for several moments longer before speaking again. "wait, you're serious. you couldn't get it?"
"no, i'm sirius, and no she couldn't," sirius answered with another grin. marlene tossed the pillow back at him and it grazed the top of your head, earning a sharp look from you.
you wiped the end of your quill off on your dotting fabric before packing it back into your bag, stopping the ink pot, and throwing the extra parchment you didn't need into your bag. "i'll be back in an hour. i'm just going to finish this in the dorm."
"but, the game is tonight!"
"i know," you answered, turning back to james with a shake of your head and a half-smile. "that's why i'll be back, potter. don't get your knickers in a twist."
"hey, don't talk about his knickers," sirius said sternly. "only i can talk about james potter's knickers."
he laughed loudly as you rolled your eyes at him, yelping when with a swish of your wand the nearest pillow went barreling into his face at the speed of a nimbus 1200. you smirked as you walked off, tossing over your shoulder, "i am the best at charms, lily!"
james watched you as you went up to the girls' dormitories, and remus smiled gently. the blonde boy leaned over to his dark haired friend, nodding to where you'd just disappeared up the stairs. "now's your chance, james."
"what do you mean?" he asked, turning to remus with wide eyes.
"we all know you fancy her," remus answered. "now's your chance to spend time with her. offer to teach her the charm. you're the best in our class."
"i'm not."
"james, this is the only time you will ever be best in the class at anything but quidditch, please take it," remus answered with a dramatic sigh.
james smiled and shrugged. "okay. do you really think she'd let me teach her, though?"
"she likes to be the best at charms. it's like her thing. this is keeping her from being that," remus said. "i think she'd let you. ask her after the game."
after the game, when he'd successfully made a few dozen goals before avery johnson finally caught the snitch, he went searching for you in the crowd of people in the common room.
"bugs!" he called, grinning as you turned to him.
you smiled at the sight of him, crossing to him and meeting him at the center of the room. "nice game today. you did really well."
"thank you," he answered proudly, heart fluttering a bit at the praise. "anyways, i'm not here to talk about me."
you gasped. "for the first time ever."
"shut up. but, seriously, i was wondering if you wanted help with the whole patronus thing," he said quietly. "we don't have to tell anyone. you just seemed bothered by sirius' teasing and i thought i could help."
you sighed, looking away from him. "no, james, it's really okay. i'll figure it out-"
"no, just let me help," he insisted, and when you faltered, thinking, he grinned. he took your hand. "come on."
"right now?" you asked with raised brows.
"come on," he repeated with a laugh, lacing your fingers through his and beginning to pull you towards the common room door. you couldn't help but laugh and follow after him, letting him pull you through the door and make a break down the hall.
"where are we going?" you asked him, the boy pausing for just a moment so you could catch up before grinning and pulling you down the corridor again.
"the best place for this sort of practice," he answered.
he pulled you through the halls for a good long while, stopping every so often to make sure there wasn't a professor lurking around the corner.
"they don't even know about this place," he murmured to you as he came to a stop in front of a simple wall.
you looked over it, furrowing your brows. "james, it's a wall."
"it is not."
"it is. is there some hidden door or something?"
"just wait and you'll see."
"wait for what? a door to emerge out of nowhere?"
and then a door did emerge out of nowhere, and james potter gave you the most cocky shit-eating grin you'd seen from him, which said a lot.
"yes," he hummed, before pushing the door open and waving an arm for you to enter before him.
you stepped into the curious room, looking around at the room, windowless, but lit with candles and lined with desks on the edges. the center was clear of any furniture, and you furrowed your brows. "is it a classroom?"
"not exactly," he answered as the door shut behind him. he smiled as he watched you roam the room, fingers brushing along the random books and tables. "it shifts based on what the person needs. right now, we need a practice room, so it turned into that."
you smiled, letting out a laugh. "that's brilliant."
"isn't it?" he said, matching your smile.
you turned back around and faced the potter boy, pulling your wand from your pocket. you twirled it in your fingers, smiling more fully. "alright, then. show me how to make a patronus."
james perked up and immediately came to your side, pulling his own wand from his pocket. "well, you know the premise, right?"
"yes," you said with a nod.
"that you need to summon a memory," he said, looking at you for confirmation. when you nodded again, he continued, "a happy memory. more like the happiest memory you can muster."
"the happiest?"
"yeah, it can't just be like a moment you laughed with your friends or the time you got the highest score on a charms test," he said, and then he smirked. "that happens too often for you." you laughed and his smile brightened. "it's got to be something semi-life-changing. a moment you'd never forget, no matter how many years has passed."
"what moment did you choose?" you asked him, head tilted as you eyed him curiously.
he flushed, looking away from you. "oh, um, when the boys and i first got our animaguses."
"isn't it animagi?"
"oh shut up, bugs," he said, rolling his eyes and earning a laugh from you.
"that was a good moment for you, then?" you asked, and he nodded. "i was awfully impressed when you all did that too. you should be proud."
he nodded again, a small smile on his lips. "yeah, thanks. now, you pick one, and then we can try. you know how to say it, right?"
"yes, james, i know how to say it."
"good," he chuckled. he watched you for a few moments, your eyes straying around the room as you thought for your memory. when your gaze returned to his, he raised a brow. "got one?"
"i think so," you answered with a nod.
"alright then," he said, stepping away from you. "raise your wand, and keep it steady. no fancy movements with this charm."
"probably why you can do it."
"shut up," he told you again, but his smile made you laugh. "go on, then."
you raised your wand, pointing it at a chair down the opposite end of the room and held it steady.
"think of your happiest memory." you shut your eyes, and james coaxed, "and say the charm."
"expecto patronum."
you peeked one eye open and saw nothing, no wisps of white, no vague glow at the end of your wand, and definitely no patronus. you dropped your arm. "damn it."
"say it like you mean it," he instructed, nodding for you to continue.
you sighed and raised your wand again. "expecto patronum."
"like you mean it!"
"expecto patronum!" you tried again.
james rolled his eyes. "think about your memory, bugs."
"i am thinking of my memory."
"well, it's definitely not happy enough," he mused. "do you have a happier one?"
you sighed, wand arm falling back to your side as you turned to him. "no. my life is pretty lame, potter."
"oh, i don't believe that for a second," he answered, offering you a smile. "what about one with your family? your little siblings?"
"they're menaces."
"they haven't made you happy once?" he laughed.
you shrugged and let out a lame sigh. "not happy enough i guess."
"well, who does make you happy?" he wondered, his tone quieter than before.
you stared at him for a few long seconds before turning away with a frown. "i'm not telling you that. you and the boys will make fun of me."
he let out a surprised laugh. "we would not!"
"you do! you laugh at me for everything," you answered as he stepped around you to meet your eyes again. when you looked at him, you couldn't help but laugh a bit yourself, and he rolled his eyes with a grin.
"you laugh at us for everything too," he reminded you. "come on, just think of someone you love, sometime they made you happy. just try it. try anything."
you sighed and thought for a few more moments, and then you gave him a nod. he grinned and stepped to the side, nodding for you to go for it.
you raised your wand arm, pointing it at the chair. "expecto patronum."
"don't point it at anything, love, just lift it in the air. it'll throw off how you're projecting your magic, if that means anything. keep it loose for now."
the little nickname made your heart jump and you shifted your wand, letting your eyes shut again with no sort of direction. "keep it loose?"
you could hear the smile in his voice. "yes, keep it loose."
"what does that even mean?"
"dunno, but try it."
you smiled, and tried it. "expecto patronum."
"mean it, bugs."
"expecto patronum."
"mean it!"
you let out a huff. "expecto patronum!"
the light shined red through your eyelids, and you opened your eyes with an excited gasp. bright wisps of light emitted from the tip of your wand, and they gathered at the center of the room to form a beautiful, elegant doe.
she pranced around the room, gliding through the air as she moved around you and james, and you laughed loudly.
"james," you said, looking to him. "i did it!"
but, he didn't say anything. instead, he just stared at your patronus, brows furrowed, eyes wide, mouth slightly dropped open.
you frowned, arm dropping to your side even as the doe continued around the room. "james?"
"what did you think of?" he asked, voice small.
you faltered, shifting awkwardly on your feet. "does it matter?"
he met your eyes then, and your heart pounded. "what did you think of?"
you swallowed harshly, looking away from him before finally answering, "last year's house cup. when gryffindor won and we all ran to the field and-"
"you ran to me and i hugged you so tight your feet weren't even on the floor anymore?" he finished, brows raised. your mouth dropped open, and he smiled, relaxing some.
he raised his wand and, wordlessly, a bright white stag burst from his wand. "it seems like our memories were the same."
a stag.
your mouth fell open as you watched his stag run to your doe, eyes wide. they mirrored each other, his just larger and with great antlers atop its head. the danced around each other, watching the other as if they were real creatures.
"the same memories?" you repeated, brows knitting. "but you said-"
"i lied. i didn't want you to think i was a freak," he breathed out.
you still didn't look at him, but you smiled. "you are a freak, james."
he laughed lightly, stepping towards you slowly. "but..?"
"but, i really like you," you breathed out, turning to him with a wider, yes more hesitant smile. "i have since first year."
"good godric, woman, me too," he said, taking the last few steps towards you and taking you in his arms. his hands cupped your jaw and he met your eyes, grinning. "can i kiss you?"
your arms wrapped around his neck and you smiled. "guess."
he kissed you fully, one hand moving from your cheek to grip your waist and pull you into him as you pushed yourself on your toes to meet him. the light from your patronuses disappeared, but you barely noticed, lost in the way he gently pulled at your lips with his, and the way his hand cupped your hip gingerly. he broke for breath, and you were the one who reconnected, earning a smile from him.
"eager, aye?" he teased breathlessly, which you rolled your eyes at.
thanks for reading! leave a request in the comments or message me privately! i love writing, so if you've got an idea you need fleshed out on paper i'd love to be the one to do that for you
HEYYYYYY i heard youre in need of mans best friend reqs so hear me out…..
poly!marauders or poly!wolfstar x reader with tears
like all of them just treat reader so so well and are so responsible, maybe she comes home to them all assembling furniture/doing the dishes/considering her feelings/texting or calling her etc. and she just has to have them RIGHT THEN
tysm i love youuuu
ncjicjwkejfi say LESS
tears | poly!marauders
feat. poly!marauders x gf!reader
summary: you return from a girls trip to your devoted boyfriends.
cw: MDNI 18+, smut, modern!au (they have phones and IKEA), poly!relationship, foursome, piv, oral, pet names, dom/sub dynamics, they're all a bunch of sluts for each other
masterlist | divider by @cursed-carmine
[Remi-kinz]: Safe travels dovey. Can't wait to see you tonight
[Jamie baby 💛]: counting down the seconds until i have you in my arms again (ps please grab me some peppermint frogs from the trolley)
[Your Hottest Boyfriend]: see you at the terminal. look for the devastating bloke in leather ;)
[Remi-kinz]: Just found out Sirius is taking the bike to pick you up. WEAR. A. HELMET. Or he’s sleeping on the porch.
[Jamie baby 💛]: please wear a helmet. moony is very cross
[Remi-kinz]: You think I’m kidding. I’m not.
[Jamie baby 💛]: we love you!!!! (and your fragile skull pls for the love of godric wear a helmet)
[Your Hottest Boyfriend]: i'm here, pretty girl ♥️ take your time
You scrolled through the texts as you waited for your turn to exit the train, cheeks aching from the force of your smile. You'd been gone for one bachelorette trip, and they were acting like you'd been off to war.
But, after a year with your boys, you'd expect nothing less.
Finally, it was your turn to disembark. You hoisted your trunk from the overhead compartment, lugging it behind you as you tottered down the aisle. Urgency made your heart race, knowing Sirius was just outside, but you fought to keep a regular walking pace and not mow down the elderly couple in front of you.
The conductor helped you down the stairs, a blessing because you were looking everywhere but your feet. Too busy searching the crowd for one of your favorite faces—there!
Sirius was leaned against the column, dressed in black jeans and his beloved, patch-covered leather jacket, cradling a bouquet of your favorite flowers in his arms.
Your eyes connected at the same instant, a lightning strike, and he grinned. He rushed across the terminal towards you, dodging the elderly and children like quaffles. Plowing through like a man possessed. Single-minded.
He slammed into you with the force of his urgency. One arm looped around your waist, hauling you up into his chest.
“There's my girl,” he cooed, planting a smacking kiss on your cheek.
You threw your arms around his neck, squeezing tight as all the travel stress, all the longing, finally loosened from your shoulders.
Sirius had you. What was there to worry about?
He dipped you backwards, your toes just scraping the concrete, and kissed you with a ferocity that had your head spinning, and the conductor clearing his throat.
“Missed you, doll,” he mumbled against your lips.
“Missed you,” you giggled, your heart gone gooey.
He straightened, setting you back onto wobbly knees. “Trade?” He asked, offering you the flowers while eyeing your trunk.
“Deal.” You accepted the flowers, burying your nose in the fresh, sun-washed scent. Sirius, the show-off, hefted your trunk without any of your earlier struggles.
“What'dya got in here? Feathers?” He joked, draping an arm over your shoulders. He knew exactly what was in there—he helped you pick out all the slutty little outfits himself. “Appreciate you getting her home safe, sir,” Sirius saluted the conductor, who only laughed and shook his head.
“Thank you!” You chirped as Sirius began to push through the crowd. Not that it was very difficult, he had a way of parting the general population of London like the Red Sea.
“So, how was it? Anyone get their eyes scratched out?” He asked with a knowing smirk. Sirius loved a good gossip session. Especially when Remus wasn't around to chastise the two of you for it.
Delighted, you regaled him of all the drama and activities of the weekend, jabbering on while he navigated the train station. He kept you close as you made your way out to the parking lot, protective in the crush of people, but loosened up as the crowd thinned and his motorcycle came into sight.
Two helmets hung on the handlebars.
“Despite what Prongs and Moony think, I am responsible,” he teased. “When it comes to you, at least.”
“I never doubted you, my love,” You pecked his cheek before he shimmied the helmet over your head, careful not to snag your ears. He shirked his leather jacket, offering that to you, too.
You let yourself bask in the warmth of it for a moment, cocooned in all things Sirius. Leather polish and cigarette smoke. That too-musky cologne James got him for his birthday last year. Studs and calfskin armor shelter a gooey center.
With the visor of your helmet flicked up, you snapped a selfie and texted it to the group chat.
[you]: [1 attachment] safe and sound 🫶
Sirius strapped down your luggage and you climbed onto the bike behind him, arms fastened securely around his waist, thighs pressed tight around his hips. Just like he taught you.
“Good girl,” he purred, voice rough and low through the modulator.
A flicker of warmth bloomed low in your belly, heating your cheeks. An involuntary shift of your hips rocked you forward an extra centimeter.
“Hold tight.” His heel struck downwards. The bike started with a thunderous roar. And you were flying.
Together, you tore through the streets of London, a blur of brownstone and November sky. With white-knuckles, you clung to Sirius, exhilaration zipping through you. His hand wandered over your denim-clad leg until his red-hot fingers skimmed the exposed skin of your ankle. They wrapped around the delicate bone, a barrier from the vengeful South London streets.
“Okay, sweetheart?”
“Yeah,” you replied, breathless.
The ride to your shared flat was brief, less than ten minutes, but it still had your heart pounding in your throat and…other places.
Sirius carried your trunk up the stairs while you raced ahead, bursting through the unlocked door.
“Baby!” James cried, jumping up from where he was sitting on the floor, surrounded by IKEA boxes, foam peanuts, and plywood. He was shirtless, dressed in nothing but grey sweatpants, glasses, and a toothy grin. “Fuck, I missed you.” He grabbed you around the middle, careful not to crush the flowers—what was left of them after the bike ride, anyway—and hefted you into the air. Twirled you around once, twice, making you giggle and shriek as you clung to his Herculean shoulders.
“Is that who I think it is?” Remus emerged from the kitchen, slinging a dish towel over his shoulder. He was dressed in joggers and a too-large sweater you’d unearthed from a bin at the consignment down the block. “Careful, Prongs. You'll smother her,” he warned, though his eyes were getting meltier by the second.
“Missed you too, Jamie,” you laughed, fizzing with delight. Your mouth found his as he set you back onto the floor, the kiss a little toothy since you couldn’t seem to stop smiling. He didn’t seem to mind.
“Thanks for the help, muscles,” Sirius grumbled, pushing into the flat behind you. Suddenly fatigued now that James was in ear shot.
“I was building her bookcase!” James argued, releasing you to take the trunk from Sirius. A regular Superman.
“And destroying the living room, apparently,” Sirius teased. Besides the new-furniture wreckage, the flat was spotless. Candles burning and lights dimmed low, soft music floating from somewhere. Natural as an exhale from the lungs of your home.
James huffed. “Well, maybe if you had helped me earlier instead of taking a nap—”
“If you don't want me to take a nap, don't wake me up at the bloody ass crack of dawn when you go for your run!”
You slipped out from between them, sidling over to where Remus was leaning against the entry to the kitchen. His hazel eyes turned molten as you approached, golden in the setting sun. An arm lifted, your favorite invitation, and you tucked yourself into the welcoming curve of his side. He took the flowers from you, setting them on the counter.
“How was your trip, darling?” He asked, nuzzling into the crown of your head. Dropping a kiss there.
“Good,” you murmured, sagging into the warmth of his body. The last of your tension dissolved. A teaspoon of sugar to Remus’ cup of tea. “Happy to be home, though.”
He made a low, appreciative hum in his throat, hugging you a bit tighter. “Why don't you go get cozy while I finish dinner, hm? I know traveling stresses you out.”
“What're you making?” You asked, not quite ready to leave the warmth, the steadiness of his embrace.
“Your favorite,” he replied, fingers wandering beneath the hem of your sweatshirt to brush against your skin. A shiver rolled down your spine, and you felt him smile against your hair. “And chocolate cake for dessert.”
You chuckled. “So, both of our favorites?”
“I think I deserve it after dealing with those sorry saps for an entire weekend. Alone.”
“Surely they weren't that bad…” You trailed off, your other boyfriend's argument ratcheting up to a full-on wrestling match. Though you weren’t sure that whacking your opponent with strips of cardboard counted as wrestling. “Okay, fair enough.”
Remus’ hand came up to cradle the back of your head, tilting your face up towards him. “Speaking of trouble-makers, did you wear a helmet the entire ride?” He asked, the words tickling against your lips.
You nodded, heart tripping over itself.
“And did you hold on nice and tight to our Sirius?”
Another nod.
“And he obeyed all the traffic laws?”
“…mostly.”
Remus tsked. “Well, I suppose that's not your fault, is it, dove?”
You shook your head ‘no’, lower lip jutting out to prove your innocence.
“Such a good girl,” he praised, nipping at your lips before molding his mouth to yours in a syrupy, unhurried kiss you felt all the way down to your toes. He tasted like mint and herbal tea, like home.
Beeeep! The oven shrieked. Remus startled, breaking the kiss to glare at the offending appliance.
“Have to get that,” you murmured, lips brushing against his jaw.
“Yeah, might burn,” he replied, though his hold remained steadfast as he turned his face back towards you.
“Mhmm.” You lifted onto your toes, closing the minuscule gap for another kiss.
Beeeeeeeeeeeeeep! The oven demanded again, more insistent.
You stepped away this time, slipping out of his reach before you could get caught up again. He drew his lower lip between his teeth, turning lazily over his shoulder to head back into the kitchen.
Sirius was waiting for you at the bedroom door, pink-cheeked and hair disheveled. Chest rising and falling quickly. James fared even worse, sprawled out in his mess with a very visible hard-on straining against his sweatpants. Glasses askew. Panting.
Drool pooled beneath your tongue.
Sirius caught your expression, but wrangled you before you could pounce. “C’mon, doll. Let's get you showered and comfy before your three-course meal,” he murmured against your ear, sending another flush of heat beneath your skin.
He led you into the bathroom, but didn't linger, just got the shower set to your preferred temperature, scalding, and laid out a pair of pyjamas. Not the sexy variety he usually selected, but the fuzzy, oversized flannel bottoms you loved, along with one of James’ well-worn Quidditch t-shirts. “Just shout if you need anything—and I mean anything,” he said with a wink before taking his leave.
"Tell James his chocolates are in my purse!" You called after him, then, "And don't eat them all!"
"Sure, doll!" He called back, smirk audible.
Alone for the first time in days, you undressed in the thick, lavender-scented steam of the bathroom, replaying the events of the day in your mind
Bottomless mimosas at brunch with your friends, the scramble to catch the train, the endless rolling hills and rattling track, the boy's sweet texts.
You stepped into the shower, letting it wash away the train smell and stubborn hangover. But what lingered, imprinted on your skin, were the traces of your boys, a smile teasing the edges of your mouth. Your mind conjured the gorgeous flowers, that dramatic, oh-so-Sirius kiss, your body pressed against his as you flew through the city, bike purring between your legs while his hand wandered. So protective, so confident—a throb between your legs made you gasp, the residual burn from their touches fanned into an inferno by your thoughts.
James’ sculpted body, back flexing as he built your bookcase without you even having to ask, the effortless way he manhandled you. Remus, with the towel over his shoulder, that casually sinful glimmer in his eye while he watched your boyfriends fight. The way he kissed you, savoring, decadent, his whispered praise bouncing off the walls of your skull.
Your hand drifted unconsciously between your legs while you washed yourself, and your fingers came away slick, heat dripping down your thighs.
Fuck, just the thought of them had you soaked.
You finished your shower in a hurry, opting for just James’ t-shirt and a pair of panties. The fewer barriers between you and them, the better.
You emerged to find James alone in the living room, lifting the assembled bookcase into its rightful, standing position, and your eyes damn near popped out of your skull. That thing had to weigh over a hundred pounds; the box clearly marked it as a two-person lift. But James made it look easy.
He noticed you once he was sure it wouldn't tip over, catching your blatant ogling, and flashed you a wink. “What do you think? Looks good, huh?”
“Uh huh.” You nodded, crossing the piles of debris to reach him. He really had tried to consolidate it, you could tell, and it stoked that fire in your belly even higher. “Looks perfect.” You wrapped your arms around his waist. Unconsciously, dare you say instinctively, your lips meandered along his chest, his collarbone, tongue dragging over the sun-kissed skin with ravenous abandon. You were only human, after all. And that chest was begging to be kissed.
He chuckled, palming the back of your head while you worshipped him. “I don't know about perfect, but—ah, fuck, baby.”
You sank your teeth into the meat of his pec, savoring the way his muscles jumped and tensed before soothing the marks with your tongue. His fingers tightened in your hair, drawing your head back. You licked your lips, batting your lashes at him. The very picture of innocence.
“Oh, you feral little thing. No funny business until after dinner. Rem’s been slaving away,” James reprimanded, though his tone was heavy with reluctance.
“I know, I know,” you sighed, pouting.
James’ gaze snagged on that dewy lower lip like a dog on a leash, breath going shallow—
“Dove?” Remus called, poking his head out into the living room. “Can you come taste this for me?”
The tension shattered. But you were far from finished.
“Yes, sir!” You chirped, sweet as a lamb.
Savvy, James gave you a chastising smack on the ass as you flitted towards the kitchen.
Remus shook his head at you, a smirk betraying his delight. The kitchen was bathed in warmth, the smell of garlic and butter hanging in the air. A muggle record turned languidly in the corner—Bon Iver.
Sirius was hunched over the island, diligently frosting the two-tiered chocolate cake with his tongue between his teeth, dark waves gathered into a bun at the nape of his neck. He'd lost his shirt, too, though he wore Remus’ “Kiss the Chef” apron, and his scrolls of dark ink were on near indecent display.
You hopped up onto the counter by the stove, t-shirt riding up your bare legs.
Remus’ eyes drifted over the swell of your thighs, but he didn't bite, instead offering you the edge of the spoon he was using to stir the sauce. You took a slow sip, holding his gaze, smoldering enough to scald.
It was perfect—his cooking always was—and you moaned, head falling back with pleasure.
Sirius dropped the spatula with a clatter, cursing under his breath.
“Cheeky girl,” Remus teased, setting the spoon back into the pot. His hands found your knees, spreading your legs so he could step between them. His lips found your temple, pressing featherlight kisses along the curve of your cheek until he reached that tender spot beneath your jaw. His sandy, two-day-old facial hair tickled the sensitive skin as his lips painted a petal-soft bruise.
Your thighs tensed around his hips, pulse leaping as his long fingers crept closer to where you were aching for them.
“Patience, darling,” he murmured. “Makes the reward that much sweeter.” And with that, he stepped away. Returning to the stove like he hadn't just thrown a match onto a puddle of gasoline.
As dinner progressed, it became abundantly clear that your boys were aware of your little…. predicament. Feeding you off of their forks, socked feet brushing along bare calves, lingering looks. Borderline excessive stretching and lip biting.
By the time Remus cut the cake, you were sitting in a pool if you own slick, thighs aching from an hour of squeezing them together.
James’ hand skimmed along your thigh, fingertips digging into the muscle in slow circular motions. “So tense, lovey. Feeling alright?” He asked, a hint of a smirk at the edges of his mouth.
At the end of your rope, you seized your opportunity and wrapped your fingers around his wrist, urging him higher. He complied, eyes shading as you spread your legs, bringing his fingers between the crux of your thighs. Letting him feel the slick that had seeped through your thin panties.
His jaw went a little slack, drawing a sharp inhale through his nose. Without a word, he slid off his chair, wedging his bulky body beneath the table.
“Jamie, what are you—” his hands gripped your inner thighs, wrenching you to the edge of your seat and forcing your legs apart. You hadn't even drawn a full breath before his mouth was on you, the muscle of his tongue laving a forceful swipe through your weeping pussy. “Oh, fuck—” you gasped, drawing the other boy's attention from cake-cutting logistics.
“Where did—” Sirius lifted the tablecloth. Peered underneath. “Oh, you greedy bastard.”
You could barely hear him over the roar of your blood in your ears, pleasure surging through you like a storm swell. James thrust his tongue inside of you, relentless as he drank you down. A low groan quaked through him, a distant roll of thunder, chased by a current of electricity striking your nervous system. You knotted your fingers into his dark hair, grinding his nose into your clit as you rocked against him.
“Oh my god, James—,” you moaned, throwing your head back as another bolt crashed through you.
“Couldn't wait another ten minutes?” Remus asked, but his eyes were shining with satisfaction. He loved nothing more than driving the rest of you to your breaking points.
Fortunately for you and your ego, James always folded first.
Sirius scraped a bit of frosting off his cake, licking the utensil clean while he watched your face contort, shoulders curl, as James devoured you. “Looks gorgeous, doesn't she, Rem?”
Remus hummed in agreement, rounding the table towards you. His fingers skimmed your shoulder, gliding upwards to cradle your face. You nuzzled into him, brushing your lips against his palm.
James’ tongue flicked up to your clit, drawing it between his teeth, and you gasped, tugging at his roots. He alternated pressure, gentle swirls broken by hard, rhythmic pulls that had sparks dancing behind your eyelids.
“You held out longer than I thought you would,” Remus murmured, stroking your hair out of your face with a saccharine softness. “Thought you'd break Sirius when you got in the shower, but—”
“I have self-control, unlike someone,” Sirius ribbed, casual as anything, slouched in his chair.
You loosed another cry, James doing something that made your lower belly coil sharply, and Sirius’s eyes darkened, betraying his nonchalance.
A wicked idea slithered through the fog in your mind.
“James, baby, fuck—make me feel so good,” you whined, and felt James smirk against you. Ever your co-conspirator.
“Taste so sweet, always so good f’me,” he added, the wetness clinging to his words almost obscene.
Sirius' expression darkened further.
Remus leaned down, pressing a kiss to your forehead to hide his own smile. More indulgent than the forgotten chocolate cake.
“Careful, now, dolly,” Sirius warned. “Or I might stop being such a gentleman.”
James eased two fingers inside of you, your body already soft and willing, lashing at your clit anyway to distract from the stretch. You keened, clutching onto Remus' arm as it wrapped around your shoulders to steady you.
Sirius’ fingers were a steady drum against the table.
Taptaptaptaptap.
A second warning.
“That's it, baby. Is that what you needed?” Remus asked, voice like honey-wine. “Needed Jamie to take care of that sweet little cunt?”
The scrape of a chair was your third and final warning. But you were too distracted by James’ curling fingers to heed it.
Remus brushed a final kiss to your temple before shifting away, and a pair of hands landed on your shoulders. The cool bite of rings jarring you back into the room.
Sirius leaned down, lips brushing the shell of your ear. “My turn.”
James untangled himself from your lower half just before Sirius yanked your chair backwards roughly. His hands slipped under your arms, lifting you onto unsteady feet. With a less-than-gentle push, he bent you at the waist over the table. Grip hard on the back of your neck. Pining you like an animal.
You had to bite your lip from crying out right then and there. Heart pattering like a rabbit against the back of your ribs.
“They're wrong, love. That's not what you needed, is it?” He growled, the jangle of his belt making your stomach flip, slick running down your thighs. “You want to get treated like a princess, then fucked like a whore, isn't that right?”
You nodded, lifting your hips to press against him. Dumb as a bitch in heat.
“Words, pet,” Remus ordered.
Sirius’ cock sawed through your slit, tucked beneath your sodden panties, thick and so fucking warm. Frenum piercings catching your clit just right. A rough hand palmed the globes of your ass, the kiss of his rings a heady contrast to your burning skin.
“C’mon, let him hear it.” James brushed your hair out of your face, dizzyingly tender compared to Sirius’ rough handling.
“Yes, f-fuck me like a whore—please, Siri,” you whined, fisting the tablecloth.
“That's my girl.” He notched the tip at your entrance, slamming to the hilt with one, ruthless punch. Even soaked as you were, the stretch still made you grit your teeth, your belly pressed against the wood making things infinitely tighter. He cursed under his breath, head falling against your shoulder, grip softening on your neck. “Merlin’s sake, dolly—fuck, are you tryin’ to kill me?”
You could only mewl, so full you could hardly breathe. But the satisfaction was mind-numbing, so acute, tears pricked along your lower lashes, soaking conspicuously into the fabric below.
“Look at that, Pads,” James whistled, “Makin’ her cry already.”
“Oh, she needed this bad,” Sirius panted, setting a slow, but punishing rhythm. Tearing you apart just to stitch you back together again. His piercing dragged against your front walls, catching that spongy spot below your belly button with infuriating, intoxicating accuracy. “Miss us that much, pretty?”
You nodded, arms flailing around for something to hold as you climbed perilously higher and higher, vision going blurry, brain leaking out from your eyes, from between your legs. Sirius grabbed both your arms, folding them against your lower back in a tight, one-handed grip. Started fucking you even harder, pounding into you with brutal determination. Hitting that spot over and over and over again.
“Say it,” he growled.
“M-missed you, missed you so—ngh—so fucking much,” you babbled, nails biting into his wrist, holding on for dear life.
From the corner of your eye, you saw Remus lean back against the table. James was on his knees in front of him, hurriedly tugging down the waistband of his joggers. Remus’ cock sprang out, slapping salaciously against his lower belly. Flushed pinker than the strawberry frosting and framed by mahogany curls. James swallowed him down with ease, eyes locked on Remus’ expression as it crumbled into bliss.
You cunt fluttered around Sirius at the sight, drawing a grunt from deep in his throat.
“Fuck, sweetheart—gonna make me come if you keep that up,” Sirius groaned, releasing your hands so he could fist your hair. He dragged you up, arching your spine to its limit, drilling in at a sharper anger that had you making an almost inhuman sound. “That's it, fucking take it—” his hand found your throat, gripping just tight enough to restrict your airflow, “—take it like such a good whore. Our dirty slut.”
“Yes, yes, yes—fuck, I’m gonna—” your orgasm crested and shattered, unraveling you in an endless euphoric instant.
“Give it to me, give it all to me—such a good dolly—” Sirius fucked you through it, your cunt squelching obscenely as you fell apart for him, your entire body convulsing with the force of your undoing. He released your throat only once the first wave passed, letting you catch your breath.
He withdrew suddenly, leaving you empty, unmoored. Hands found your hips, spinning you around and tossing you up onto the table. Before the room stopped spinning, his mouth was on you, drinking down your release like a starving man. Ravenous.
“Oh, god, Sirius—” you cried, so sensitive you were twitching up the table, trying to retreat from the intensity of it. But his hands were like iron, holding you in place as he drowned in his reward.
“Easy, mutt,” Remus chastised, his voice a little frayed from James' attention. “Let her breathe.”
Sirius made a grunt of displeasure, but slowed anyway, obedient. Stealing a few more lush licks through your twitching pussy as you shuddered and whined. Pressed a farewell kiss to your puffy clit before sitting up.
He guided your arms around his neck, cooing softly to you, but you were too drunk on oxytocin to really hear him. Suddenly, you were airborne, Sirius’ arms bracketed around your thighs. You buried your nose into his neck, trying to get your bearings even as the world moved around you, your body still hair-trigger sensitive.
“Jamie and Remus are gonna have theirs now, love, okay? Can you take a little more, or do you need a break?” Sirius asked, lowering onto the nearly made bed. All concern and tenderness as he settled you against the nest of pillows.
“Love you,” was all you could think to say, and his smile was brighter than the sun.
“Love you too, sweet girl. But we’re gonna need a ‘yes’.”
James and Remus stood on either side of you, gooey-eyed and flushed, and you nodded.
“Yes, please.”
You lost track of who was where, who came when, and how often, adrift in a sea of delirium and bliss. By the time you all were finished, your bodies and the sheets were damp with sweat and god knows what else. Disheveled and delirious, entirely too wrung out to do much more than mouth absently on Remus’ shoulder where your head had fallen.
His hand curled around your cheek, brushing your sweat-slicked strands from your eyes. “Worth the wait, dove?”
You nodded, eyes fluttering closed as his hands combed through your bedraggled hair. Someone’s hands skimmed over your lower back, your hip, massaging away the stiffness and fatigue. Another swiped a warm rag between your legs, cleaning you up with careful strokes.
You melted into it, their easy affection and tender touches. Piecing you back together like a sacred statue. Mending your cracks with gold and sweetness until you were whole again. And all you had to do was lie there and accept it, something you struggled with in the beginning. But, over time, and with a lot of gentle, but persistent coaxing, you’d learned that not only were you allowed to accept their generous affection and care, you deserved it.
You deserve partners who look after you, show up without question, and take responsibility for the space they occupy in your life.
I have such a specific idea for poly marauders so please bare with me .
James and Sirius were out to a fancy party and they come home early to see reader and remus having sex in the kitchen , remus has her spread on the table while he fucks her and she arches her back and sees sirius through blurry vision and calls his name, remus doesn’t notice them so he thinks shes calling her other boyfriends name “ wrong boyfriend sweetheart “ so he fucks her harder until she calls his name “ there you go love”.
You could continue this however you would like Maybe james and Sirius join them. I also love the idea that after everything when they’re showering she reassure remus and says something like “ it’s hard to think of anything else when I’m around you , you’re all consuming “ and the boys agree THATS SO CUTE.
I’m so sorry that this is long and graphic.
Say My Name // Poly!Marauders x Fem!Reader
A/N: Whoever you are, anon, I thank you for giving me this request because, holy shit, it has turned me (and Remus) absolutely feral, and I have no regrets.
“You both look so damn handsome!” you admire dreamily with a thick lace of sarcasm as you tighten the burgundy scarf around Sirius’ neck. The mischievous glint in those twinkling grey eyes brightened as he rolled them in jest, matching the doting smirk on his full lips. “Maybe you should forgo the leather jackets more often for the waistcoats”, you say with a lustful undertone to your words as you look up at him through your lashes.
“Hmm, you think so?” he asks, dipping his height ever so slightly so that he could press his lips to yours in a surprisingly gentle kiss that still managed to pull desire in your abdomen as you leaned in for more but whined as he stood back to full height and straightened the waistcoat you loved so very much.
From behind you at the entrance to the bathroom, James was attempting to knot his bowtie when he wondered, “Are you sure you both don’t want to come with us? We each can have a plus one, which means there’s room for two. We don’t mind being fashionably late”. Glancing over your shoulder, you took in his slick attire that also caused warmth to bloom beneath your cheeks. A simple black jacket shaped perfectly for his slim waist, a crisp white shirt beneath and a matching shade of burgundy to Sirus was the colour for his tie.
The matching colours were an idea of Remus’, who was lounging across the mammoth bed, his long legs stretched out beneath him with one ankle crossed over the other. He watched James intently, the corner of his eye twitching at the messy-haired Marauder's attempts to tie his bowtie.
Remus stood and approached him, batting away James’ fingers as he began to do the job for him. You watched them fondly before answering the unanswered question. “No, it’s ok, James. Remus and I have a lovely night filled with a romantic home-cooked meal and a fancy bottle of wine. Who knows where the night may take us? Might end in some lovely… hand holding”, you say with a simple shrug to your shoulders, returning to straightening the already pristine waistcoat of Sirius.
“Oh yeah? Some strong hand-holding, Moony, is that what you’ve got planned? You might need to up your game”, Sirius jokes under his breath as he watches your fingers closely with a dipped head.
Remus snorted, smiling to himself, knowing that your night would be filled with anything but hand-holding, especially as the hours ticked closer to the following day. It was approaching the full moon, not tomorrow but the next day, but that didn’t matter as the changes were already beginning to affect Remus, and it all started with his desire for possession.
The wolf in Remus took a keen liking to you, even from all those years ago when you met the Marauders on the train to Hogwarts. It was an obsession, a need that devoured him completely to be with you. It had been described to you like a mating. Remus’ wolf thought you were his mate; therefore, as the gap between Remus’ and the wolf’s mind thinned with the full moon, the desire would take hold of Remus. There was still the deep, adoring love that he held for James and Sirius, and thankfully, this stopped him from ever deeming them a threat against your love, but others? Well, that’s where the danger lay, and therefore, it was easier for everyone if you and Remus stayed in for the night rather than have a territorial wizard with werewolf anger in a room full of people.
“Remember to please be safe out there tonight. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do, and for the love of Merlin, James, please don’t drink and fly again. I’m not having another incident like last time”.
“Yes, Mum”, James grumbles sarcastically as Sirius chuckles under his breath.
“I’ll make sure that Prongs is on his best behaviour”, Sirius reasons with you as his hands come to rest around your waist, pulling you ever so gently closer.
“Good”, you say promptly, whilst curling a piece of his long hair around your fingers before reaching up to kiss his lips with a fierce press. “You look so handsome tonight,” you try to praise him as your mouths are still kissing together.
“Don’t I always?” he responds cheekily, earning a half-hearted eye-roll as he eases away, swapping places with James so that he can say goodbye to Remus and James with you.
Your fingers automatically try to tangle through James’ hair, attempting to flatten out the messy strands, but after a couple of minutes of attempts, James tugs you by your wrists. “I don’t know why you even bother; you know my hair will just stay messy. Anyway, doesn’t it add to my roguish good looks?” he wiggles his eyebrows suggestively as he gives you a broad grin whilst kissing each of your palms.
Your fingers cup his freshly shaved cheeks, caressing the smooth skin as you say, “I hope you have fun tonight”, whilst leaning up on your tiptoes to kiss him with as much vigour as you could hear from the groans across the room with Sirius and Remus.
James sighed into the kiss, one hand matching yours by resting along your cheek and the other on your lower back as his lips pecked across your face until hovering next to your ear. “If you need us to come back, just send a note as we taught you; two flicks of your fingers and it should disappear, and we’ll come back straight away”.
Nodding your head in understanding, James kissed your cheek quickly before standing up to his full height and looking over at the other two men. “Sirius, take your tongue from Moony’s mouth; we must go!”
You tried to stifle your laughter as the two men pulled away from each other with rosy cheeks and wet lips.
Sirius and James disappeared with a flurry of green fire through the flu network installed in your shared home's kitchen. Remus turned to you with a heartwarming smile as he asked, “Shall we put some music on and start with dinner, love?”
You left it in Remus’ capable hands to find suitable music on his record player, and it ended up being a medley of David Bowie, which you were always happy to listen to. The two of you worked in unison to cook a beautiful roast dinner, moving around one another without getting in the way but making sure to remain at arm's length. Lingering touches to arms or backs, sipping slowly on the bottle of wine as Remus sang along to Bowie under his breath. You’d told him he could sing louder as you wanted to hear him, but he simply smiled and kissed your cheek, like he was embarrassed at being caught, but it was a rare day where Remus Lupin was embarrassed about anything.
The dinner was beautifully cooked, and there was enough for many more people than just you and Remus. Soon enough, you were stuffed full, thankful for deciding to wear a loose dress today with your expanded stomach. Remus was still eating as you sat and slowly digested your food, talking idly about fond memories from Hogwarts and how your work had been this week. Just anything domestically happy that the two of you could as you shifted closer in your seat so that his large scarred palm could rest on your thigh and your fingers interlock over the back of his hands.
“It’s a rare time when it gets to be just the two of us”, Remus muses, his hand squeezing your fingers and thighs as he pushes away his empty plate, his eyes solely focused on you.
“It’s been nice. As much as I love having all four of us together, sometimes it’s hard to keep up and give each of you all my attention, so when it's just one-on-one, it feels so intimate, wouldn’t you agree?”
His eyes softened as he nodded, “I definitely agree. You look so beautiful tonight, by the way. Have I told you that?”
Warmth filled your cheeks as you looked away to the glass of wine in your other hand. Even after all these years, one small compliment from Remus felt like the world, and it wasn’t the first time he had said that tonight; he’d said it every other sentence, but that didn’t hinder the giddy feeling from spreading in your chest.
“You, Mr Lupin, are a smooth talker”, you say, drinking a sip of your wine, ignoring his growing smile. Placing the glass onto the table, you shifted closer to Remus, resting a hand on his chest as you realised how much time had passed over the night. “So pudding, what would you like? I think we have some ice cream in the freezer, or if you’re lucky, James would have left us a couple of slices of his mum’s cake from yesterday”.
Remus didn’t answer immediately as you realised he was just silently watching you with the beautiful twinkle back in his eye, a curve to his lips that you itched to caress with your thumb. But then, he shifted forward in his seat so you were only mere inches from your faces touching, and the soft flop of his mousey brown hair fell into his eyes. “You’re so pretty, Remus”, you admire and then hold back a giggle as his cheeks flare with colour at your compliment.
“Pretty and scarred”, he muttered in response, cupping your wrist and bringing your fingers to his lips so he could kiss them carefully.
Your automatic response was to shout at him. It wasn’t that he had said anything remotely negative, but you knew the self-conscious thoughts that laced his words that he rarely spoke but still thought. You wanted to remind him of the hundreds of times he had ever scolded you for making negative comments about yourself or any self-doubt. Still, if you did, you knew it would ruin the positive mood for the night, so you wanted to continue with words of affirmation.
Closing the gap between each other, you kissed the tip of his nose whilst cupping both cheeks, paying specific attention to the thick pink scar that ran down from his temple, over his brow and his cheek. “I love you, scars and all”.
Remus’ tension seemed to ease from his shoulders as he breathed lightly out of his nose, his face lowering to rest on your shoulder as you held him for a moment before he began to stand and offered a hand, “What about a dance m’lady, then I’ll find you something sweet to suck on for desert”.
Ignoring the innuendo, you grinned up at him, placing your hand into his much larger palm. James and Sirius had lessons growing up from their families on how to dance for special balls they were forced to attend. You and Remus, on the other hand, were utterly clueless, but this only added to the joy and laughter as you both clumsily tried not to step on the other's toes or twirl without knocking into furniture.
You’d laughed so hard that a stitch formed in your side, causing the vivid dance to settle into a light sway. Your head rested on Remus's shoulder as his cheek pressed against the top of your head, arms around your shoulder as he lightly sang the next Bowie song.
Everything was perfect, especially as his rough fingertips danced up the nape of your neck, carefully tipping your head back so that you were now staring up into his kind eyes, his lips no longer moving along to the lyrics as he licked them carefully, moistening them before dipping his head. The kiss was as gentle as his hands now cupping your face, and you wondered for a moment if you were lightheaded from holding your breath in anticipation or from the effects of having your boyfriend kissing you.
Remus was soft, lovely and perfect as he eased away to put a gap between your mouths, but only so that he could adjust his position by keeping one hand on your jaw and the other around your waist before taking your breath away once more. Instantly, your body rose to the tips of your toes to be closer to him and firm the kiss.
The breath you’d both been holding released, noses pressing into each other's cheeks as the warm air tickled your ears. His tongue teased the seam of your lips, and as you relaxed into the kiss, many things seemed to happen at once.
The grandfather clock in the living room chimed midnight, and the soft Remus you’d been carefully kissing and exploring with your lips was now firmly gripping the back of your thighs, lifting you whilst simultaneously stepping towards the table as you squealed in shock, desperately gripping his shoulders for support.
Plates and glasses smashed onto the floor as Remus shoved aside the lovely table setting so that there was a firm blank canvas for you to be led on.
“Woah, Remus, just give me a minute.” You try to reason with him to at least get your bearings. Having been standing up two seconds ago, you were now led on your back with your boyfriend having become frantic with his actions. His shoulders shook with restraint, and his eyes didn’t lift from the edge of your skirt as he reached for the material. Not only this, but the brightness in his eyes had one, replaced with sinful hunger.
“Need you-” he muttered with a gruffness that hadn’t been there moments ago.
This was why you’d decided to stay in. Sometimes, Remus would curl around your body with the need to simply just breathe you in and declare that you were his; he’d become somewhat feral.
The fire in your body scorched to life as the need seeped into your core. As lovely as it had been, seeing him like this just did something to you. You wanted him just as desperately.
Frantically, you tried to help him lift up your skirt, but he was in control, pushing the material and tearing it in places with his firm grip until your legs and underwear-covered pussy were revealed. For a moment, it looked like he was going to dribble as you tried to reach for him to tell him to take a breath and compose himself, but all you were able to do audibly was scream out, head tipping back as Remus devoured you.
The Marauder hadn’t even waited for your underwear to be removed before his mouth was on you, hands not-so-gently wrapping around your thighs to push your legs apart, the slippers you’d been wearing now flying off in different directions across the kitchen. It was like he’d not eaten a single thing all night with the way his lips and jaw moved against your most sensitive of areas.
The sensation was odd with the barrier of cotton in between your cunt and his mouth. All you had was the pressure, wetness beginning to soak through from his tongue and the overwhelming heat from his mouth. Remus moved hungrily, licking and caressing with his mouth as you lay with your arms gripping onto the edge of the table above your head.
“Rem-Remus! Merlin, please don’t stop!” you begged desperately, allowing your body to succumb to his touch. You couldn’t even open your eyes without feeling dizzy with the sensations of his body all over your lower half as he pressed his tongue firmly against your throbbing clit, circling it with intention.
The hands on your thighs pushed harder, giving his face more room as a deep groan burned from his chest as he needed more. Still, as you whimpered from him to not stop, he stayed in place, stimulating your clit over and over again until your body was tensing with the pulses of desire from your cunt as your orgasm erupted.
His motions continued through the waves of pleasure, and even after, he carried on with his devouring, even as you verged on the edge of becoming overstimulated from the rough material of your panties rubbing against your delicate area. Remus needed more, and he was ready to take it.
The pressure on the back of your thighs suddenly disappears as he drapes your legs over his shoulders, giving you a better angle now to reach down and run your shaky fingers through his soft hair.
With your eyes firmly closed, you hadn’t noticed that your underwear had been torn clean from your body, only noticing when there was no barrier between what you both wanted. Your back arched from the stimulation of him sucking on your bundle of nerves, making an obscenely wet noise as your juices and his saliva caused a heavenly mess.
Your legs had begun squeezing his face as you weren’t able to control your body, but he didn’t stop; he just simply continued to eat your pretty cunt. “Please….please Remus”, you continued to beg but unsure of what as you were thoroughly warm head to toe with the effects from your last orgasm, but his playful mouth knew just the right ways to keep you at the elevated bliss.
The thickness of his tongue pressed against your throbbing hole, delving as deep as he could go before curling it and exploring the warm softness of your cunt as the tip of his nose stimulated your clit.
It was intense, primarily as his large hands now rested on your abdomen, pushing down and forcing your hips to remain against the table so that he could remain in complete control of the stimulation to your body.
Clenching relentlessly around his tongue, your body couldn’t tell if it was calming down from an orgasm or having another. The overwhelming sensation caused tears to well in your eyes as the apples of your cheeks burned with heat. Everything was too much; even the clothes covering your torso felt claustrophobic as your nipples ached to be free.
“Ah!” you babbled, unable to even say his name as more intense waves of pleasure rocked from your cunt as it pulsed around his tongue. The tears escaped down your cheeks as you tried to gasp for air, your body finally slumping in exhaustion against the table as Remus began to stand from where he’d been on his knees for you.
Each of your legs was carefully eased from his shoulders to dangle off the edge of the wooden surface, not that you could keep them up anyway, as your entire body felt as if it was made of jelly.
“Did so good for me, Love. Taste so fucking good, wanna try?” he asked from where he now looked down at you, hovering only inches away from your face as his fingers wiped away the evidence of the tears. You nod quickly, opening your eyes for a split second to see Remus’ dark eyes and swollen, wet lips before they were pressing against yours, his tongue pushing into your mouth and allowing you the vulgar opportunity to taste your own juices from his mouth.
“My pretty girl tastes so good”, he admired, staring down at you, memorising every flicker of emotions on your face. You mewled at the compliment, nuzzling your face pathetically into his palm as he cradled your face. “What do you want? I want to hear you say it”.
His tone indicated that he was teasing, which was a rare attribute for Remus as he usually just liked to do whatever he had in mind, but when he was like this, wishing to get the very most from you as his werewolf subconscious began to flicker through his thoughts.
“You, I want you. Please!” you stress whilst trying to look up at him, fingers trembling at your side with the need to touch him somehow.
The corners of Remus’ lips tilted up as he smiled down at you, “Have I ever told you how much I love to hear you beg?”
Before you could respond, you were gasping as coolness licked over your chest as he’d swiped his wand down the centre of your clothing until it was falling off of your shoulders, and your body could be free from the confines. His eyes lowered, focused on your pebbled nipples as they begged for him to be touched, but he didn’t rush to them.
Instead, Remus began the long journey of exploring the rest of your body with firm kisses and licking with the flat of his tongue. He paid special attention to your neck, as he always did this close to the full moon as his sharp teeth grazed over your pulse point, the animalistic side of his begging to bite down and mark his girl, but he restrained, knowing it would be painful for you. The last time he’d done so, he’d had a right bollocking off of James and Sirius, who prattled on about how you weren’t his chew toy, even though you had insisted that it was ok.
Moving lower, Remus worshipped your breasts. He was licking the skin around the areola before drawing your nipple and some breast tissue into his mouth, sucking with enough force that the area swelled with the rush of blood. The fire in your core intensified as you gained enough energy to lift your hands and grip his shirt.
“I need you, Remus, please stop teasing me”, you beg, but all that earned in response was an approved grunt.
“Relax, and just let me kiss you”, he sniped with desire as you wanted to sass back but found yourself melting into the table instead. Each inch of your stomach, hips, legs, arms, everywhere he could reach in this position, he praised with his mouth until he was once again hovering above your lips. “All I can think about is you”, he admitted, his tone caught between hunger and pain as his thoughts were becoming too clouded by the wolf’s desire to be close to you.
Your fingers combed through his hair as you tried to sound as calming as possible, “I know, Remus, it’s ok. I’m right here. Take me”.
A shiver ran down his spine as he finally began to unbuckle his trousers, freeing his cock between your bodies as he rested on his elbows on either side of your face so that his face could nuzzle into your neck.
You took the honours of reaching between your legs, grasping his impressively hard cock, admiring the soft skin and veins that bulged as you pulled him closer to where you needed him most.
“Tell me you’re mine”, he begged as you directed his tip to your soaked hole.
Tilting your head so that you could kiss his cheek, you implored, “I’m yours Remus - FUCK!”
All you could do was curse and cling to him as, with one powerful thrust, the majority of his cock stretched into your pussy. You could never take his entire length unless it were through anal play, but that didn’t stop him trying as the pressure became overwhelming as he nudged against your cervix.
Your thighs trembled once more as he gave you time to adjust, sighing blissfully against your neck as if he had finally found what it was that he was looking for. However, as your cunt frantically fluttered around Remus as you adjusted to the intrusion, Remus began to rut his hips in short, snapping thrusts slowly.
You groaned at the sensation and found your hips meeting his until all restraint was gone, and Remus was fucking you hard and fast.
Pushing up on his hands so that he was looking down at you, Remus fucked you hard. The table beneath you groaned just as loudly as you were as it rocked against the floor, and for a split second, you hoped it wouldn’t suddenly collapse beneath you two.
Remus suddenly moved as if hearing your thoughts, widening his stance as he stood to his full height, hands on your thighs and bringing your body to the very edge of the table. In this position, he could fuck you with quick snaps of his hips. Your back arched in this new position, pleasure pouring into your soul.
However, a noise over the sound of the fucking caught your attention as the fire flickered with green flames, and you couldn’t help but gasp, “Sirius!” as he stepped out of the fire, followed closely by James.
Remus, still with his head hunched slightly from where he was watching you intently, growled at the name used, his gaze hardening on you as he leaned back until you looked into each other's eyes. “Wrong name, Sweetheart”, he demanded lowly, fucking into you with as power as he could, causing you to cry out and tense with the pleasure. “I only want my name coming out of your mouth, do you understand?”
“Yes, Remus! I’m sorry!” you plead with him as he fucks you harder.
“There you go, Love. See, it wasn’t so difficult, was it?” As he talks, he lifts his hands and covers your eyes so you can no longer look at Sirius or James as you’re plunged into darkness.
“Don’t be too hard on her, Moony”, James teases from somewhere across the room as you hear him and Sirius shuffling around but are unable to see what they are doing.
Remus grunts but doesn’t stop with his motions, making sure that your next orgasm is just as overwhelming and powerful as the others as your cunt clung to him for dear life, attempting to milk his balls with the powerful clenches but he didn’t stop fucking you all the way through your orgasm.
Having his hand over your eyes was a disorientating position to be in, especially as he would every so often kiss your cheek or neck, savouring your soft skin before moving away so that his momentum could continue.
A hiss echoed across the room from wherever your other two boyfriends currently were, and as another whimper sounded from what you assumed was Sirius, Remus then decided it would be a good time to completely pull out of your pussy, leaving you gaping and empty.
Before you could moan, more disorientation flowed through you as his hand was removed from your face, and your body was being manhandled so that you were now being turned over on the table until your front was pressed against the wood. With a gentle kick to your ankle, Remus made room between your legs for himself and fucked into you. He was even deeper in this angle, which you didn’t think was possible as his chest pressed against your back.
His and didn’t return to your face, allowing you to look at your other lovers. Sirius was currently sitting on James’ lap, both of their fancy clothes more dishevelled from earlier as the bowtie and scarf were off and the top buttons were undone. They stared intently at you and Remus as they touched one another. James was kissing the column of Sirius’ neck whilst his hands groped at the bulge at the front of his trousers. At the same time, Sirius was grinding his hips down on James, who you assumed had a matching bulge that was rubbing against Sirius’ arse.
“You’re mine, Love. Aren’t you? My pretty girl”, Remus whispered with deep penetrations of his cock into your cunt.
“Yes! I’m yours, Remus! You’re so deep”, you proclaim with a cry as you find yourself already wanting to peak and cum over his thick dick again. However, Remus knew you just as well as you knew yourself and could feel the tightening of your soft walls and stopped all thrusting as you sobbed with the beautiful feeling washing away.
His hand eased beneath your face, holding your jaw and forcing your sight away from your boyfriend's until it was tilted to look over your shoulder at Remus. “You only get to cum after them”, he demands before nipping your ear love with a sharp tug of his teeth.
“Moony, you really are tense, aren’t you” Sirius jokes breathlessly as he moves more eagerly against James, whose hand is now fully inside of his boyfriend's trousers, wanking him off in time with the movements.
Thankfully it didn’t take them long to cum, Sirius first with his head thrown back and trousers staining a dark colour in a little puddle. James then rutted up into Sirius a few minutes later, groaning and stilling his movements. Both breathed each other in deeply, lazily kissing and holding onto one another until your sudden gasp echoed around the room as Remus continued with his fucking.
Your head moved to drop onto the table as you accepted the fucking, but Remus’ hand remained beneath, cushioning your face from the hardness of the wooden table as his lips moved to the junction between your throat and shoulder.
With each thrust, Remus repeatedly grunted the possessive word, “Mine!” until it was all you could think about. Your orgasm nearly caused you to pass out with its intensity. Juices streamed from your cunt, dripping down your thighs as waves of clenching pleasure constricted around Remus’ cock until he was forcing as much of himself as he could into you, and thick seed spurted into you. The warmth was welcomed as it soothed your pussy from the inside out as it began to trickle down your thighs, mixing with your own juices.
You were half aware of your movements, more concerned with the fact that you couldn’t control the tremble and sobs as Remus pressed himself harder over your back, making you feel grounded and safe.
“Shh. Slowly breathe in and out for me. That’s it. Slowly breathe for me again, keep going, well done”, Remus encouraged for some time as you’d been close to a panic attack with the overstimulation, close to tipping into the submissive headspace that would have taken them a lot longer to draw you out of.
“It’s just… a lot”, you say shakily, eyes closed and absorbing every warmth he was willing to give you”.
You’re exhausted, ready to fall asleep right there on the kitchen table as you whisper, “I wanna go to sleep”.
Remus kissed your naked shoulder, “After we clean you up, ok, Love?”
As Remus begins to stand, his half-hard cock slipping out of your well-used hole with a slurp and shudder from both of you, did James finally step forward whilst readjusting his softening cock in his trousers.
Squatting down next to you, his fingers tentatively caressed your cheek while keeping an eye on Remus behind you to ensure the action wouldn’t trigger him somehow. “You alright there?” James asked softly.
“Mmhm. Just a little sleepy”, you say whilst closing your eyes at the ticklish touch on your face.
Sirius stepped forward from behind James, raising his wand and pointing it to the destroyed rest of the kitchen mess, “I’ll clean up here, you guys look after her, and I’ll join you in the bathroom”.
Remus had to carry you to the bathroom as liquid drips flooded out of you and marked the direction you had been giving Sirius more to clean up. As this house was altered for the four of you, the shower was wide enough to provide you with Remus and James plenty of room to wash together.
You attempted to stand up on your own but ended up leaning heavily on Remus as James washed the remnants of the fucking from your body was skilled, careful fingers.
“You know I didn’t mean to say the wrong name, right? I just didn’t expect to see them standing there and-” you begin to explain with Remus, worried he’d been upset by you saying Sirius’s name earlier.
However, his lips quickly cut you off with a simple peck, “I know”.
Kissing his cheek several times, you mumbled against his skin, “It’s hard to think of anything else when I’m around you. You’re all consuming, Remus”.
Against your lips, you feel the heat radiating off of him in a quick burst of rare embarrassment as he actually blushed at your words.
“She’s right, Moony. Without you, there is no us without you”, James quips in a rare statement of sincerity.
A cough from the bathroom door catches all your attention as Sirius casually leans against the door frame, cheeks round with roast potato as he joins in with the Remus praising. “There’s a reason why we all argue every night to see who gets to be spooned by the magnificent Remus Lupin”.
Three of you chuckled before you asked, “Are you eating my leftovers?”
“What?” he says with a shrug, stepping further into the room and beginning to take off his clothing at last. “The food was scarce at the party, and Moony’s roasties are always so fucking good”.
You nod in agreement before looking up at Remus once more, who looks quite proud of himself for the flow of compliments coming his way. However, as you attempted to lean up onto your tip toes again to kiss his handsome face in some way, your knees decided they were finished holding up your way as you nearly collapsed to the floor, only stopping because of his strong arms wrapping around your waist.
“As much as I appreciate this little pep talk, I think we need to get someone to bed”.
Remus lay in the centre of the bed, where he rightfully deserved to be tonight with you on top of him, face resting on his chest and legs on either side of his hips as each of your hands held his. Sirius and James joined later, deciding they needed some extra alone time in the shower together, as the dry humping hadn’t entirely filled that horny spot for either of them.
You were asleep by the time both men crept into bed, resting either side of you and Remus with arms spooning around your back as the three shared a kiss goodnight. “How was your night?” Remus asked, looking between James and Sirius. “You’re both sober, so I’m assuming no mischief?”
“Oh, Moony, like we need alcohol to cause a riot. Why do you think we’re back so early?” Sirius declares whilst flicking out the laugh and curling in closer to the warmth of bodies as Remus chuckles into the darkness.
Hello lovely, I hope you’re having a great day. Welcome to my harry potter masterlist! I love to write in my spare time and the fiction that I create is for 18+ readers ONLY please. Also, everything is character x fem!reader and please, read the tags carefully before continuing.
✧ sweetheart needs looking after // You were warned not to be a brat today, but when you start to feel unwell, how will the boys react when they mistake your behaviour for being a brat?
(fluff, angst)
✧ The boys always cause trouble. // The boys were infamous around Hogwarts for their pranks, but what if they do it to the wrong people one day, and you get hurt in revenge?
(fluff, smut, angst, dark)
✧ good morning // You loved waking up in the arms of the boys, but today, James has other plans for the morning.
(smut)
✧ the duelling club // You were tasked with practising your defensive skills, but when you are paired with your worst nightmare, how will the boys react to watching you duel their enemy?
(fluff, smut, angst)
✧the full moon (ch.1) (ch.2) (ch.3) // The full moon was approaching, only a few days away, and the effects were slowly starting to take over Remus. But there’s nothing you can do as you watch him turn from the soft-loving boyfriend to the possessive and rough werewolf to hide from.
(fluff, smut, angst, dark)
✧ showing off // The boys love goofing around, but what happens if it brings the attention of the Slytherins? How will the boys react when they find out you’ve been harassed?
(fluff, smut, angst)
✧let me calm you // It was the last Quidditch match of the year, and James’ nerves were getting the best of him, so you did your best to calm him down.
(fluff, smut)
✧we'll sort this later // The boys had left you being edged all day until you couldn’t take it anymore.
(smut)
✧ safe & sound // The sound of thunder ripped you from your sleep. Luckily, the boys are there to comfort you.
(fluff)
✧a bad day // You have a bad day, so the boys try to make you feel better.
(fluff, smut, angst)
✧breakfast in bed // You were in subspace and had a panic attack, and the Marauders tried to calm you down.
(fluff, smut, angst)
✧you’re safe // You have a nightmare, and the boys do their best to comfort you.
(fluff, smut)
✧happy halloween // You were your own worst enemy. The boys surprised you by changing their looks for the Halloween party, but you can't decide whether you're highly aroused or intimidated by their new looks.
(fluff, smut, angst)
✧ aftercare - kinktober // How the boys look after you after a heavy nightly session.
(fluff, smut)
✧they are mine // They were harmless, they just wanted to be friends with the Marauders, nothing more... right? What happens when three Ravenclaws become suspiciously too close to your boyfriends?
(fluff, smut, angst)
✧i need to feel you // Waking from a lust-filled night, you were feeling slightly needy.
(fluff, smut)
✧ red // The word 'red' kept flashing into your mind, but it wasn't something you'd ever had to say before. How will the boys react when you're forced to say it?
(fluff, smut, angst)
✧first time // You were simply four friends at the beginning, but how did you all become more than this?
(fluff, smut)
✧pain over pleasure // It was very important that you kept clear communication with the Marauders during your most intimate moments, but when you failed to do this, you had to suffer the consequences you'd been warned about.
(fluff, smut, angst)
✧ horny little devil // There you were, tied to the bed, wishing to be touched, but Sirius and Remus ignored you, continuing on with their own pleasures. Thankfully, James has returned from Quidditch practice. He'll help you, right?
(smut)
✧ how far is too far? // James had discovered a new spell that is supposed to give you the most blissful pleasure imaginable. However, not everything goes to plan.
(fluff, smut, angst)
✧ what are you wearing? // The latest lingerie trend did not look comfortable, but you still fell for the marketing and purchased your own, assuming the boys would want you to dress like everyone else. However, when you decided to show off your outfit to Sirius, his reaction was anything but positive, as he saw how uncomfortable you were
(fluff, smut, angst)
✧ working hard // You're working hard, maybe too hard, as you have neglected to care for yourself. You end up fainting, hitting your head and having a seizure and needing the boys to look after you.
(fluff)
✧ spanking/flogging - kinktober // Sirius, ever the one to explore the kinky side of life, has bought a new toy about which you're a little apprehensive.
(smut)
✧ bondage - kinktober // Trying something new included trusting your boyfriends to restrain you in the middle of an empty classroom.
(smut)
✧ coercion/blackmail - kinktober // They were waiting for the ideal chance to find you alone, and the perfect opportunity arose when they saw you on the Marauder’s map sneaking around the restricted section of the library.
(Dark!marauders // smut, dark!!)
✧ Family // Sirius Black, the usually happy prankster within Hogwarts, had a special skill for hiding his emotions. Until one day, he's forced to face the realities of the troubles with his family.
(smut, angst, fluff)
✧ Say My Name // It was an uncommonly tranquil night for you and Remus, as James and Sirius had gone out to attend a party. The reason you and Remus decided not to accompany them was quite simple: the Full Moon was approaching. This meant that your otherwise calm boyfriend would become fiercely possessive and feral.
(Smut, fluff)
✧ Not today, Please. // Why is it fair that every month, you have to experience agony for multiple days at a time? The boys hate seeing you suffer with your period and take it upon themselves to try and make you as comfortable as possible.
(Smut, fluff)
✧ Prong's Day // James was having one of the best days of his life, and what better way to celebrate it than in the arms of the ones he loves?
(Smut, Angst, fluff)
✧ Beneath the Bubbles // A playful bet between her three boyfriends turns an innocent pool day with friends into a secret game of distraction, control, and quiet desperation—and she has no idea she’s the prize.
(Smut)
✧ The Forbidden Room // A forbidden part of Hogwarts calls to the Marauders. What starts as curiosity quickly turns into something deeper, darker. The room gives them what you desire… but it takes just as much in return. A dark, magical descent into pleasure, pain, and love that refuses to break—even when everything else begins to.
(dark, angst, Smut)
✧ sticky fingers // Sirius had his little stash of enchanted sweets that he always claimed were "too strong for you." But you want to feel what he feels, to have fun like they do when they're soft and floaty and grinning. So when you’re left alone and curious, you make a mistake, eating an entire magical aphrodisiac meant to be split between four. What follows is hours of heat, begging, and unbearable need.
(darkish, angst, Smut)
✧ tipsy // After a night out with the girls, you return home to the three men who adore you. They warned you to behave, but you might have had a drink too many. Now, it’s time to be reminded of what happens when you push too far.
( Smut)
✧home // Nothing is as nerve-wrecking as meeting your boyfriend's parents, let alone during such a wholesome time like Christmas.
(fluff, Smut)
✧ let them hear // After Quidditch practice, James and Sirius overhear crude locker room talk about you that leaves them raging. When they tell Remus, his temper snaps, and by the next practice, the team learns exactly why you’re untouchable.
(angst, Smut)
Summary: When James catches you swooning over a guy in your alchemy class he decides to make a move before it’s too late.
A/N: Blatching: Flying with the intent to collide with another player. Blagging: Grabbing an opponent's broom to slow them down. Also if your name is Julie no it isn’t. WC: 4.2k
James walks behind the group, listening to the marauders argue about where to sit during lunch
“Moons, our next match is in three weeks!” Sirius stresses. “We need to talk about strategies!”
“That’s precisely what practice is for.” Remus answers as they continue making their way to the great hall. “What better place to strategize?”
Sirius throws his head back, groaning in annoyance.
“Sorry Padfoot.” Remus apologizes halfheartedly, “But I really don’t want to spend lunch hour listening to you lot talk about blatching and blagging.”
“It’s Davie’s birthday today.” Peter chimes in. “His mum is sending a cake.”
“Pete, they serve cake every day.” James reminds him with a chuckle.
“Yeah, regular cake.” Peter clarifies. “This is a birthday cake, it’s a completely different thing.”
The infamous group of four enter the great hall and the conversation temporarily comes to a stop as they scan the Gryffindor table, weighing the odds of where to sit. James is about to let the other three decide when hears your voice cut through the chaos that is lunch hour.
“Are you mad?” You shriek.
James doesn’t know whether it’s out of shock or anger, but he’s determined to find out. He walks past his friends, not knowing or caring if they followed, and makes his way to where you were sitting.
“Hey ladies.” James greets with an easy smile as he reaches the table, watching in amusement as you try to hit Lily’s shoulder only for her to dodge it.
He gets a chorus of hello’s in return as the rest of the marauders join him.
“So who’s gone mad?” He asks, starting to serve himself food. “What are we talking about?”
“Perfect timing gentlemen!” Dorcas announces, clasping her hands together. “We were just in the middle of discussing Y/N’s-“
“Nothing!” You exclaim, cutting her off with a pointed look. “We were talking about my nothing.”
Dorcas holds her hands up in surrender, biting her lip as she lowers her gaze.
You let out a sigh of relief.
“We were talking about Y/N’s crush!” Dorcas squeals excitedly, unable to contain herself.
“Dorcas!” You whine, covering your face in embarrassment.
James, on the other hand, chokes on his water.
“Sorry?” He wheezes, hoping someone will elaborate.
“What? We were!” Dorcas defends.
“Yeah, but I didn’t wanna tell them!”
“Oi! That’s not fair, love. I always tell you about my crushes.” Sirius complains with a pout.
“I don’t ask you to. In fact I specifically ask you not to.” You deadpan. “Besides, it’s a different girl every day. Those aren’t crushes, those are conquests.”
“Pish posh.” Sirius waves you off, taking a bite of his chicken. “Now spill the beans. What’s his name?”
“Pads,” You sigh exasperatedly. “I really don’t want to-“
“Chris.” Marlene interrupts.
“From Ravenclaw?” Remus asks before nodding his head in approval.
“Ravenclaw?” Sirius repeats, brows furrowing as he tries to think before his eyes widen in realization. “Wait, you mean quidditch Chris?”
“The very one.” Lily confirms with a nod.
“Not to be weird, but he’s pretty cute.” Peter comments casually.
“Isn’t he?” You gush, covering your mouth with your hand. “Not just that but have you heard him laugh?”
You don’t give anyone at the table a chance to answer before you continue rambling.
“He like, closes his eyes when he laughs and it comes out high pitched? Which is odd because you know, he’s a guy so naturally he has a deep voice; but it suits him! It’s so…joyful. It’s soooo cute. But I think he’s kind of insecure about it because sometimes he’ll be laughing and like, he’ll catch himself and try to stop but even then he’ll still be giggling which is even cuter! And ughhh, what do I do?” You groan, covering your face with your hands.
“Have you told him?” Remus asks curiously.
“What? That I like his laugh? Of course I haven’t.” You shake your head.
“Why not?” Sirius chimes in.
“Because it’d be weird!”
“No it wouldn’t.” He assures. “It’s a compliment. Everyone loves being complimented.”
“But- I- What do I do?” You stammer. “Just walk into alchemy and announce to the whole class that I like his laugh? That’s mental!”
“Well, no.” Sirius rolls his eyes. “Obviously you’d talk to him first.”
“See that’s the thing, Padfoot…” Dorcas says.
“Talk to him?” You repeat, wide eyed. “Are you kidding me? I can’t talk to him!”
“Why not?”
“I’m shy…” You bashfully admit.
Everyone at the table erupts into laughter and you stubbornly cross your arms.
“Y/N, I’ve known you since first year.” Remus reminds you fondly. “I could think of a million words to describe you. Shy definitely isn’t one of them. Right, Prongs?”
James shoots Remus a subtle glare, rubbing his side where he’d been elbowed before turning his attention to you.
“Yeah! I mean, how hard can it really be? You’re not shy around me! You talk to me nonstop.” He nods happily.
“Wha- that’s totally different!” You argue. “I don’t like you!”
“Oh.” James says simply, caught off guard by the statement.
“Wait, wait, wait. That’s not what I meant.” You rush to explain. “Of course I like you.” You assure him. “But it’s totally different!”
“How’s it different?” James asks, tilting his head the tiniest bit.
“Well, I mean Chris is a man.” You shrug.
A few of your friends snicker in amusement and Peter’s jaw actually drops open.
“Wowwwww.” James complains.
“Way to make it worse.” Sirius teases.
“Oh, shut it.” You scold, tossing your balled up napkin at him.
“I’m a man.” James insists, voice cracking at the last syllable.
“Of course you’re a man, Prongs.” You assure, carefully thinking about your next words. “But you’re not my man… like, for me…”
This time Peter and Remus start snickering, finding James’ distraught expression and your struggle for words incredibly amusing.
“Not that I want you to be!”
“Ouch, love.” Sirius comments, thoroughly enjoying the show.
“What I’m trying to say is that it’s different!” You stress.
“How?” Peter asks curiously.
“It just is!”
“But how?” James presses, taking the ego hit personally. “We’re both on the quidditch team, we both have good marks-“
“I don’t understand why you’re comparing yourselves as if it’s some sort of competition.”
“Hear that, James?” Lily teases, joining in on the fun. “She said you’re not even in the competition.”
Sirius, Peter, and Remus all burst into laughter while James pouts pathetically.
“Awe, James.” You coo, cupping his face affectionately. “You’re cute.”
James smiles at the compliment, cheeks appearing smushed as you’re still gingerly holding his face in your hand.
“But Chris is a love interest! A possibility!” You clarify.
“As opposed to?” He asks.
“You.”
James gives you a deadpan look.
“Y/N?” Sirius calls.
“Yeah?”
“Stop talking.” He all but begs.
“Yeah…” You agree.
The professors announce that lunch is over and you all start to gather your books, preparing to head to your next class.
“Jokes aside, I love you James. You know I do. But it’s more of a platonic love.” You tell him as you all start to make your way out of the great hall. “I’m not saying that there’s anything wrong with you, because there isn’t! It’s just-“
“I’m not a man.” James cuts you off, giving you a weak smile.
“Tosser.” You scold teasingly, pushing his shoulder lightly. “I’ll catch up with you guys later. Stay out of trouble.”
“We make no such promises!” Sirius calls after you as you turn the corner and disappear. Once you’re out of sight he turns his attention to James.
“That was painful.” He grimaces.
“You’re telling me.” James sighs, loosening his tie. “I felt as if I couldn’t breathe.”
“The girl you’ve fancied since the start of seventh year just spent all of lunch telling you how much she doesn’t like you, how are you still alive?”
“I dunno, mate.”
“I take it you're throwing in the towel, then?” Remus asks.
“Fuck no.”
“Then what?” Peter asks, looking up at him.
“I don’t know yet…” James tells them. “But gimme some time. I’ll think of something.”
︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵
James walks out of the bathroom, wiping his lenses on his pajama shirt when Peter calls out to him.
“Prongs, mail.”
James looks up excitedly, putting his glasses on and running across the room, grabbing the parcel.
“It’s quite thick. What is it?” He asks curiously, noting that it was bigger than a letter but smaller than a package.
James hastily rips open the envelope, holding the item up as if it were a trophy.
“Yes! Thank you dad!”
“What is it?” Sirius asks, tossing himself onto his bed. “A playboy?”
“No!” James immediately denies. “It’s just a magazine he’s subscribed to. I glanced at the cover when it arrived over break and asked him if he still had it.”
“Okay…” Sirius nods. “Why’d you want that specific issue?”
“Because- there’s an article I want to read.” James answers, quickly flipping through the pages. “Aha!”
Sirius, Remus, and Peter huddle around the magazine, wanting to see what the article’s about.
“Oh fuck off.” Sirius huffs, going back to his bed.
“You’re joking.” Remus says. “Right? You’re having a laugh?”
“Become the man of her dreams in 3 easy steps.” Peter reads aloud.
“Guys, at least give it a chance.” James defends, holding the magazine up. “They wouldn’t publish just anything.”
“Yeah they would.” Sirius says.
“It happens more often than you’d think.” Remus adds, putting on his robes as he prepares to do his rounds. “I’d say you’re better off chasing her shamelessly like you did Evans than following whatever that gossip column says.”
Peter and Sirius burst into laughter as Remus walks out the door.
“Yeah, alright. Laugh it up.” James remarks. “We’ll see who’s laughing when it works.”
“If it works.” Sirius warns.
“When it works.” James corrects. “It’s a new crush. What’s it been? A week? Less? I can totally steal her away from him.”
“Can you?” Peter asks, not looking up from his comic book. “Because she doesn’t even fancy you. At all. Remember?”
“Yes, Wormtail, I remember. I was there.” James nods.
“Why do you have to steal her anyway?” Sirius asks. “You’ve fancied her since the start of the year. You had months to make a move.”
“Can you guys keep it down?” James asks instead, drawing the curtains from his bed. “I’m trying to read and you’re kind of distracting me.”
“Sorry.” Peter apologizes.
“Wanker.” Sirius says childishly.
James sticks his hand out from behind the curtain and flicks him off.
︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵
Step One: Put an effort into your appearance. Women do not want to date slobs. Just as women prim and pamper themselves daily, men too should take grooming seriously and put thought behind their outfits. Do note that doing too many changes at one time is cause for alarm as the female gaze is more observant. Instead one should spread out their changes through time.
Somehow James had gone the whole day without running into you once. He dejectedly walks back to the Gryffindor Tower after his rounds, thinking that he wasted time doing his hair for nothing, only to bump into you in the common room.
“Hey.” He greets, standing up straight. “You’re doing rounds tonight?”
“Yeah. I’m covering for someone.”
“Oh. Lame.” James nods, only for his eyes to widen when he realizes what he’s just said. “I mean, it’s lame that they bailed! Not that you’re doing rounds. That’s ni- that’s a nice thing for you to do. To take someone’s shift.”
You throw your head back in laughter and only then does James stop his rambling.
“No, you’re completely right. It is lame.” You nod. “But no one else was available.” You shrug.
“Well, I hope it goes quickly for you.”
You don’t acknowledge what he’s just said. You’re too busy analyzing his appearance to even think of answering him. The more you stare at him, the more uncomfortable he feels, smile dropping and feet shuffling as he finds it hard to keep still.
“Did you cut your hair?” You finally ask.
“Huh?”
“Your hair.” You reiterate. “You cut it?”
“N-no.” James shakes his head. “Just combed it.”
He shrugs before running his hand down the back of his head, hoping it casually draws attention to his neat hairdo. And it does. Gone are his wild, curly locks. Instead they’re neatly styled up and away from his face, giving him a sleek and polished look. With James no longer hiding behind his hair, his sharp features really stand out like his bright eyes and defined cheekbones.
James sees your eyes bouncing all over his face, taking in his features. He watches as you gaze at his new hair, then his eyes, then his lips?? Before bringing your gaze back up again.
Keep it cool, Prongs. He thinks to himself. Stay cool.
You have a slight furrow between your brows and your bottom lip is jutted out just slightly, a telltale sign that you’re thinking. James is starting to think that maybe the lads were right when finally, you nod.
“Looks good.” You say simply before heading out to do your rounds.
As soon as the coast is clear, James raises a hand in victory.
“Yes!” He whispers to himself before clearing his throat and straightening out his robes. He walks to the dorms with a bounce in his step.
︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵
Since that night in the common room James has kept up the habit of styling his hair into a neat quiff. While at first he hated waking up early, he’s since gotten used to it. After that first night you didn’t mention his hair again, but he has noticed you staring at him quite often. This encourages James to start applying cologne as well. Not much, just a tiny spritz because “a little goes a long way, Prongs for fucks sake.”
He’s so lost in his head that he doesn’t even see you walk into class, snapping out of his spiraling only when you pull your seat out, your chair scraping against the cold dungeon floor.
“Good morning James,” You smile politely, taking a seat in your chair and then scooting forward.
James sits up straight in his seat and clears his throat before speaking.
“Morning.”
You smile sweetly at him again before turning your attention to your school bag, digging out your parchment and ink well. You look up a moment later with a focused stare and scan the room.
“You okay?” James asks, worried something might be wrong.
“Yeah.” You answer absentmindedly. “Just…” you trail off, continuing to scan the class.
“Just?” James repeats, hoping you’ll elaborate.
You lean across the aisle, closer to the classmate setup at the station to the right of you before returning to your seat with a frown.
“Y/n?” James asks.
You turn your head slightly towards him and take a small breath in. Then you turn your full attention to him.
“Are you wearing cologne?” You ask, completely ignoring his previous question.
“I uh- yeah.” He stammers. “My dad sent it to me…figured I might as well-”
“It smells good.” You cut him off.
“Y-yeah?” He asks.
You lean closer to him and take a deep breath while James holds his, freezing every muscle in his body, afraid to move even an inch.
“Yeah.” You answer, leaning back with a satisfied nod. “Really good. You should wear it more often.”
“Okay.” James says breathlessly.
At that moment Professor Slughorn walks in and he starts going over the lesson plan for the day.
︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵
Step two: Establish romantic intent. Men are laid back and easy going by nature. While these are good features for making friends, it can also cause problems to arise when trying to court a woman. To avoid miscommunication it is important to act with thought and intent. Flirt boldly. Be direct. And use respectful, physical touch to create a romantic, rather than platonic, connection.
“Okay, Prongs. Time for phase two. Now, we flirt. You can do this. You’ve flirted before.” James says to himself, hyping himself up as he heads toward the Black Lake. Somehow you were both paired up for rounds, and he’s looking forward to being able to talk to you away from the watchful eyes of his very nosey friends.
The prefects from Hufflepuff informed you that they had already patrolled around the quidditch pitch, so you and James decided to start by the greenhouses and then go from there. He sees you standing at the edge of the Black Lake, quietly staring at the water. He’s just about to call out to you when he remembers what the article said.
Use teasing and humor. Use respectful, physical touch.
James quietly sneaks up behind you. When you least expect it, he grabs onto your upper arms and pushes you forward before pulling you back. You immediately scream, turning around and whacking him on the arm.
“Holy fuck! Are you crazy?”
“Crazy about you.” James immediately replies.
“This isn’t funny.” You whine. “I could’ve died.”
“Nooo.” James rebuffs with a shake of his head.
“What if I had fallen in?” You argue, crossing your arms.
“That never would’ve happened.” James says matter of factly, tucking his hands into the pockets of his trousers.
“How are you so sure?” You ask skeptically.
James tilts his head to the side, before smiling softly, knowingly.
“Because I had you.” He shrugs simply. “When there’s something I want, I don’t let go.”
Your breath hitches at the quiet confession. You try to form some sort of reply but nothing comes out. Sensing this, James comes to a stop right in front of you, leaning forward slightly to match your height.
“I didn’t want to drop you, so I didn’t.” He says softly.
The weight of his confession is still there but James doesn’t push for an answer you don’t yet know yourself. Instead he gives you space, he gives you time. He gives you an out; and you take it.
“You scared me.” You admit with a shaky laugh.
“That was the point.” He answers truthfully, a mischievous smile dancing on his lips. “We’re gonna be out here until 1:30. I need you to be alert and awake.”
“What are you talking about? I’m always alert and awake when doing rounds.” You scoff.
“Mm.” James hums, turning on his heel and starting to head towards the greenhouses. “Are you, though? Because you didn’t even hear me coming up behind you just now.”
“That’s totally different.” You argue, hurrying to catch up to him.
“Suuuure.” James agrees sarcastically.
“No, really!” You continue. “That one doesn't count! I wasn’t ready.”
“Whatever you say, beautiful.”
The nickname throws you off. So much so that you don’t see the gopher hole up ahead. Your right foot slips right in and your lurch forward. You’re prepared to fall on your face, so you’re pleasantly surprised when James is by your side in an instant, hand wrapped around your waist to keep you upright.
“You alright?” He asks softly.
He’s so close that you can feel his breath on your face. It takes you a minute to get your bearings and give him an answer.
“Yeah.” You nod. “Good catch.”
James chuckles, taking a step back and nodding.
“I told you.” He says, watching fondly as you dig your foot out of the blasted gopher hole. “I don’t let go.”
You rotate your ankle slowly, and when you don’t feel any pain, you give him a thumbs up.
“See?” You huff. “Alert and awake.”
James snickers in amusement before clearing his throat.
“Very nice. Shall we go?”
“We shall.” You nod.
“Do you wanna hold onto me?” He asks, offering his arm to you. “Since you stumbling seems to be the pattern of tonight.”
“Oh! You-“ You slap his hand away and James laughs.
“One of them was your fault!”
“You were so scared.” He laughs, mimicking your terrified shriek before turning his head to look at you.
“Awe, come on. I’m just teasing.” He consoles when he sees you pouting. “It was cute.”
“Oh yes, I’m sure me screaming my head off was a sight to behold.” You snark before walking ahead, leaving him behind.
“You always are.” James says softly before hurrying to catch up.
︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵
Step three: Show off your feathers. When courting a woman the most important thing is to not lose momentum. The second you become “comfortable” in your relationship you become friendzoned. While other men are being wishy washy and “playing it cool” it’s your time to strike. Just like a peacock, show your feathers and strut! Show her what you have to offer, who you are and what you can be!
“Y/N?”
“Hmm?” You look up and find Lily, Marlene, and Dorcas all staring at you.
“I asked about Chris.” Dorcas repeats with a smile. “You haven’t mentioned him in a while.”
“Yeah…” You trail off, finishing the sentence you were writing before putting your quill down. “That’s over.”
All three girls gasp.
“Why? What happened?” Marlene asks.
“Did he turn you down?” Lily asks, gripping her quill tighter.
“No, nothing like that.” You assure them. “I just don’t have a crush on him anymore.”
“Oh? That was sudden.” Lily comments.
“Mm, not really.” You shrug. “I didn’t really know anything about him.”
“You could’ve gotten to know him.” Marlene offers.
“Yeah…but I just didn’t want to.” You admit. “After some thought, I realized I wanted something with someone that I know. Someone who I’m comfortable with but makes my heart race at the same time. Someone who teases me one second but worries about me the next.”
“Wow. Sounds like you already have someone in mind.” Dorcas says.
You try and fail to hide your smile.
“Maaaybeee…” You tell them bashfully.
“Who?” Lily asks.
“Is it someone we know?” Marlene adds.
“Yeah, actually.” You nod. “It’s-“
“James!”
You all turn your heads to see some girl from Hufflepuff approaching James who stands a few meters away in the middle of the courtyard.
“Yeah?” He asks, looking at the girl confusedly.
“You know how the spring equinox is next week?” She asks, playing with a lock of her hair as she gazes at him.
“Yeah…” James repeats, still just confused as he was a moment ago.
“Go to the celebration with me?” She requests, getting straight to the point.
“Wow. Um…”
“Julie.” She supplies, thinking he was asking for her name.
“Julie.” James repeats. “I’m flattered…”
He scans the courtyard, trying to buy himself some time. His eyes pass over your figure before locking onto you once more. James looks quickly between you and Julie before returning his attention to her. He remembers the article and knows what he has to do.
Be direct. Avoid miscommunication. Show off your feathers.
James stands up straight and rolls his shoulders, releasing some of the tension he was feeling.
“I’m gonna have to pass.”
“What?” She says, dropping the piece of hair she was previously toying with.
“There’s someone I’m interested in.” James tells her. As if that wasn’t clear enough, he raises his hand and points a finger in your direction. “It’s actually that girl there.”
Several gasps are heard throughout the courtyard, your friends being the loudest. Still, that doesn’t deter James from his confession in the slightest.
Don’t be wishy washy, Prongs. He thinks to himself. It’s now or never.
“Her name’s Y/N and I've fancied her since the beginning of the year. I’m planning to ask her to be my date.”
James looks past Julie, locking eyes with you and smiling sheepishly.
“Though I guess it's not much of a secret anymore, huh?” He asks, taking slow steps towards you, almost as if he’s scared you’ll run away.
“Not really.” You shake your head, smiling softly as you stand from your seat and take a tiny step towards yourself.
“Confessing your feelings for someone in the middle of a packed courtyard is quite the opposite of a secret.” You inform him, very clearly poking fun as you take another step closer.
“Oh, ha ha.” James laughs sarcastically, though judging by his fond smile it’s obvious that he isn’t bothered in the slightest.
“Awe, come on. I’m just teasing.” You assure him. Repeating his own words from that night you had rounds together. “It was cute.”
“You’re cute.” James flirts back.
You cross your arms, staring at him skeptically.
“Last time I was beautiful. Now I’m cute. What’s with the demotion?”
James rolls his eyes with a huff but grabs your hands nonetheless.
“You are beautiful.” He confirms with a nod. “And cute.”
You beam at him.
“And I meant what I said.” James clarifies, leaving no room for doubt. “I really, really like you.”
“So do I.” You admit shyly, swinging your clasped hands.
James smiles at the confession before it turns into a mischievous grin.
“Really? Even though I’m not a man?”
It takes you a moment to register what he’s just said, and when you do, you can’t help but let out an incredulous laugh.
“Oh my gods. Are you serious right now?”
“What? I was just asking.” He manages to say in between giggles.
“You are so annoying.” You tell him, shaking your head.
“You love it.”
You roll your eyes with a smile because you know he’s right. Teasing and all, you do love being with James. And James smiles back at you because he’s just the same.
warnings: idk anything about palm reading. so everything that was mentioned here was based on my understanding of the things i have researched regarding it. so if there are any errors, please kindly correct me.
note: i swear i wasn’t gonna write today but my mind just came up with this and I couldn’t seem to stop thinking about it. T_T
James Potter Masterlist
It was slightly concerning how James Potter, the boy who walks the halls of Hogwarts with troubles trailing behind his wake, was all bent on the task the Professor had given you. His brows were knitted in concentration, a mild frown settling upon his face as he looked closely at your open palm with the air of a focused potions master trying to perfect a very difficult concoction.
“Alright, so this line here is your head line,” he whispered, lips jutting in concentration. “Based on my interpretation, you are the sort of person who learns by doing something. You gain more knowledge by going through things…and this here,” he added, softly tracing the lines on your palm.
“It says that you have a strong sense of purpose, very much like me,” he flashed you a grin, and then a perfectly done wink that had your heart pummeling against your chest.
If he hadn’t been right about the purpose part, you would have smacked him hard on his head—called him something that would have him lying dramatically on the floor like some fatally wounded warrior. But he wasn’t, so you opted to just bite your tongue and roll your eyes.
“Oh, and—and someone will come! Maybe they already have!” He flashed another grin at you, and you couldn’t help but let your curiosity pique at his words.
“Is it love?” you questioned, a small grimace pulling at your face.
It’s not like you don’t want to have your possible romance read, you’re just not sure if James Potter was the credible reader for it. Nonetheless, you let him do his own magic, choosing to watch him in silence instead.
He ran the rough pad of his thumb on your palm, seemingly mulling over your question. “I’m not sure…but let me look into it further.”
You nudged a brow, silently requesting him to continue, to which he obliged with an enthusiastic nod of his head.
“It says here that this person is the one destined for you; maybe someone who could thaw your heart? I am not sure, but it surely looks like one.” Your brows furrowed at his words, not really certain if the professor had mentioned any detailed findings in regards to palm reading.
“That’s oddly specific, isn’t it?”
“It is, but I think it’s because I am highly gifted in divination.” He beamed up a smile, teeth flashing under the golden glow of the lamps that surrounded the classroom.
You rolled your eyes. “You don’t even—”
“Shh!!” He suddenly interjected, pushing a finger toward your parted lips. “I think I see something.” He mumbled, voice dropping an octave.
“This person that will come into your life would surely sweep you off your feet. They will definitely make you feel like you’re the only woman in the world. I am also seeing that this person would challenge you, in a positive way, of course.” His gaze lifted, colliding with yours like stars exploding in space.
“Is that so..?”
“Yep, do you wanna know who that person is?” He leaned closely, breath mingling with yours. There was an undeniable tug in your chest at your proximity, a tingle that ran down your spine that made you somehow shiver despite the summer heat pricking at your exposed skin.
“I think I could see a boy,” he traced your palm again, but his eyes were still fixed on yours. “Tall, wears glasses, and I think he likes to be on air? Maybe something with Quidditch? And also, loves his friends so much, family oriented and also is very creative. Very spontaneous too. Handsome. And did I mention tall?”
The moment the word glasses slipped past his lips—you already knew that James Potter was shitting on you. He had said it so confidently, too, sporting a wide grin as if he hadn't just shamelessly and blatantly described himself as your lover.
You pulled your hand away, but as if he had already sensed what you were about to do, he curled his fingers around it—and then held it tightly.
“I am also seeing his initials, I think J—”
“And I think you’re about to lose your vision if you don’t stop right now.” You gritted, cheeks and ears turning hot.
“JFP. And I think he’s about to ask you to go to Hogsmeade in about,” he paused, pushing the sleeves of his robes to reveal his golden wristwatch, all the while brandishing a bright smile that made your stomach drop. “Two seconds.”
how about james "oh, the consequences of bad decisions" potter x ravenclaw "i hate how much you acting like an idiot makes me want to make out with you" reader
reader always getting him out of trouble with their critical thinking skills
thanks for requesting lovely!
james x f!reader | 1k | cw: language | Masterlist
You honestly think James Potter, as handsome as he may be, is the thickest, stupidest, idiotic boy you've ever met.
Even as he's being led on what's supposed to be a walk of shame out of the great hall by the scruff of the neck by McGonagall, he's still got that stupidly adorable lopsided grin stretched wide across his face and a triumphant look in his eyes. It's not the first time James (and his merry band of Marauders) have caused chaos in the great hall during meal time and it definitely won't be the last, but there's something in the way that only he has been caught - Remus, Sirius, and Peter are nowhere to be found, strangely enough - that pulls a frown out of you.
The Slytherin's are head to toe in pink, fluffy robes, matching rather well with the bunny rabbit ears that seem to be glued to their heads, running around as though the predicament is causing them physical pain and terror, but you can't find it in yourself to be amused when James has been caught red handed and is being dragged off by McGonnagal right in front of you. Though, he doesn't seem to care if the pleased look on his face is anything to go by.
It takes you all of two seconds to come up with a plan, standing and running after your professor and James. You don't excuse yourself from the table, but you doubt the girls will mind. They're already rounding the corner out of the great hall by the time you catch up, feet thumping on the concrete floor in your hurry. You can hear McGonagall speaking in sharp tones about how James has taken it too far this time, he's always taking it too far, and she's not even sure how to begin punishing him for this.
James Potter is an idiot. Everyone knows this. He's smart - which is the kicker. He passes all his classes with ease, always hands his homework in on time, helps first years with their essays, and can point you to almost any book in the library. He's well educated. But he's an idiot. He doesn't use common sense, doesn't know when enough is enough, and he pulls off reckless and dangerous pranks without a second thought. You shouldn't be so attracted to it. You shouldn't feel your heart beating out of your chest every time you see his signature 'I'm about to do something really dumb, right now' smile and you shouldn't come running to his rescue every time he gets caught.
But the thing about James Potter is - as much as he's an idiot, as stupid and reckless and arrogant and annoying as he is, he's also charming. And handsome. And lovely. And beautiful. And pretty. He has a heart the size of the black lake, even though he has an ego to match. And you can't help it. He's just so.
"Professor!" You call after them, close enough to not really have to shout, but you need to at least play the part convincingly.
There's a classroom on the 7th floor corridor. It's been infested with Cornish Pixies for years, sealed off by McGonagall herself. Everyone knows that's why the classroom is abandoned, and for years, everyone has stayed as far away from it as possible. McGonagall turns around in a flash, murmuring an apology to James who trips over his footing to avoid twisting the arm that's still firmly in her grip.
"I just overheard some of the Slytherin's saying they were going to release the Cornish Pixies from the seventh floor in retaliation!" You fake heave a breath, to make it sound like the utmost of importance.
It helps, you think, that a group of yelling Slytherins pass behind you, heading straight for the stair case in their fluffy pink robes. A smirk passes across James' face, a knowing one, and it makes your knees wobble and your cheeks redden. He's an evil boy, because he notices, and you see the interest sparkle in his eyes.
McGonagall goes pale, and lets go of James at once, eyes wide, "Thank you for telling me," She turns to James, who has the audacity to look guilty, now, "I'll find you later, Mr. Potter."
James nods and waits until the professor has swept off up the stairs in a hurry before he's dragging you behind one of the tapestries. You go willingly, enjoying the warmth of his fingers on your wrist, the smell of his cologne, woodsy and sweet at the same time. He turns and faces you when the tapestry swishes closed behind you both, crowding your space in an instant.
"Are the Slytherins really going to release the Pixies?"
You feel your face redden, "No."
His jaw ticks as he smiles, "You just saved me from a right rollocking, you know that?"
You absolutely detest this part. The part where he makes sure you know just how weak you are for him, how willing you are to abide his boyish pranks as long as he gets you in this situation; flushed and kissable. You hate how much you want him to kiss you, how needy it makes you feel.
"Shut up and kiss me, James. Before McGonagall comes back and gives us both detention."
His lips are on yours in an instant, hot and heavy and rushed and the breath gets caught in your throat. His right hand sits firm on your jaw, thumb pressing into your pulse point, and his right grips at the side of your hip, holding you close to him. James is a good kisser. It's a sick and twisted fact, and you think that a part of you knows whenever you come to rescue him from whatever consequences amount from his own stupid actions, the fact that it always ends like this is what keeps you coming back.
He's got you pushed up against the wall, his weight pressing down on you, right leg between yours and you're finding it hard to remember yourself.
Until Sirius appears, letting out an undignified yelp as he yanks the tapestry closed. Apparently, it garners Remus' attention, who's eyes are curious when he finds you and James sheepishly standing side by side, lips swollen and cheeks red.
"Subtle." He says, swinging the tapestry closed behind him as he goes to console Sirius.
James Potter is the type to be a complete and utter perv in your relationship. Of course it's mostly in private because well...he's got a reputation to keep being Gyffindor's Quidditch Captain and all. But that doesn't stop him one night taking the underwear he's "sneakingly" stolen from you, using it on himself as he jerks off in the middle of the night. Duh he takes the red silky one that drives him absolutely insane.
"Fuck...mmgh! Feels so good." He moans into his shirt that is being bit between his teeth, as a form of trying to keep his moans and groans quiet. But the sweet, cold sensation of your silk underwear stretching over his sensitive tip, many times, makes this one last stretch turn into shudders and quiet moans as he starts to come onto the fabric. James's eyes rolls to the back of his head, and his toes curl at the sensation of the cool fabric meeting his hot cum.
James Potter is definitely the type to send you little notes telling you how he wants to take you in front of the class just at the mere fact that he can see some other guy staring at you, and he wants to claim what's his. (Sirius's relationship antics rubbed off on him 🤷🏻)
If he keeps turning his head to the side to keep looking at you, I'm going to bend you over this desk and show him who you belong to.
James, you can't do that!
Watch me gorgeous.
James Potter is the type to pull you in a corner of an empty corridor, where honestly, if someone was looking for y'all they will see what's happening. But does he care? Of course not, why would he? All he cares about is quenching his thirst and keeping you satisfied, while also on your toes.
"James what you doing?" You said as you look at him getting on his knees with wide eyes and a fierce blush covering your face.
"Just trying to get something to drink real quick, baby." James said as he looked up at you with a smirk.
"People will see!" You squeaked out as your eyes scanned around the corridor in a frantic manner.
"Let them see then." He says coolly before lifting your skirt, getting underneath it, moving your underwear to the side, and licking a long strip of your wet pussy.
Let's say the idea of someone coming across the two of you completely slipped your mind as you let James get his much needed thirst.
