a dreamer born into a court of nightmares

you can also find me on ao3: moonyswolfie.

[moonyswolfie]

୨ৎ main masterlist ୨ৎ

⟡ welcome to my little library! the shelves are always open, so find the story that feels like home!

volume ı

🥀 a court of thorns and roses 🥀

Starfall (Cassian x reader)

Revenge (Cassian x reader)

volume ıı

marauders era masterlist

volume ııı

golden era masterlist

volume ıv

high potential masterlist

volume v

the rookie masterlist

[moonyswolfie]

🚨the rookie anthology🚨

Tim Bradford

all the little things masterlist (Tim Bradford x wife!reader)

- a love story through glimpses

Cupid’s Bullet (Tim Bradford x NavyOfficer!reader)

- while on leave in LA, visiting your godfather, you catch the attention of one grumpy officer

[moonyswolfie]

ϟ the golden era grimoire

Draco Malfoy

The Yule Ball (Draco Malfoy x Slytherin!reader)

- every night is unforgettable with Draco by your side

Insecurities (Draco Malfoy x Slytherin!reader) 

- you can always count on your boyfriend to sweeten up a sour day

Sirius Black

Not so secret boyfriend (Sirius Black x Weasley!reader)

- your goddaughter starts dating and Sirius is not handling it well...or at all

[moonyswolfie]

🧩 high potential files 🧩

Adam Karadec

I Know We’ll Be Alright (Adam Karadec x wife!reader)

- a quiet morning filled with love and sweets is just what the doctor prescribed

Nick Wagner

Weren't Mine to Lose (Nick Wagner x detective!reader)

- he said it was a mistake, but you heard you were one

[moonyswolfie]

⌕ the marauders archive

☽ Remus Lupin ☾

Period Snuggles (Remus Lupin x Potter!reader)

- cuddling with your boyfriend becomes a group activity

Shrieking Shack (Remus Lupin x reader)

- transforming a painful memory into a romantic hideaway is no easy feat, but Remus deserves the best

Love Story (Remus Lupin x Ravenclaw!reader)

- once upon a time, a girl and a boy fell in love

Baby (Remus Lupin x reader)

- werewolves, turns out, are nothing more than overgrown guard dogs

Seer (Remus Lupin x Potter!reader)

- the future is only as reliable as the person you entrust it with

Full Moon (Remus Lupin x reader) 

- aftercare can take many forms; the post-transformation kind happens to be your favourite

Study Session (Remus Lupin x Potter!reader)

- borrowing Sirius’ notes confirms what you already suspected: you need rest

Anxiety (Remus Lupin x reader)

- when your own mind is out to get you, Remus shows you that it’s okay to slow down

Wendy to his Peter (Remus Lupin x reader || ANGST)

- even the most beautiful of stories eventually come to an end

✦ Sirius Black ✦

Padfoot (Sirius Black x reader)

- an injury during a full moon renders Sirius unable to turn back

Amortentia  Part II  (Sirius Black x Potter!reader)

- when Sirius falls victim to the most potent love potion, you have to find a way back to each other

Legillimens (Sirius Black x legilimens!reader)

- mind-readers are rarely surprised, but then again, they don’t have Sirius Black for a best friend

Deal (Sirius Black x reader PLATONIC)

- storms don’t last forever, and you don’t have to bear them alone

One Night Disaster (Sirius Black x Hufflepuff!reader)

- sharing a cigarette has never felt more intimate

☼ James Potter ☼

The Prophecy (James Potter x Seer!reader)

- love readings are never wrong

⟡ Regulus Black ⟡

The Golden Snitch (Regulus Black x Gryffindor!reader)

- you and Regulus compete for the same prize...or do you?

[moonyswolfie]

One Night Disaster

I'm a bit rusty on the Marauders front, but I recently wrote a few essays about the fandom and some new fic ideas started popping up. I hope you like this!

Also, I will be slowly separating my works by fandom, creating separate masterlists that I will be linking in the main one so it's easier to navigate.

TW: sexual tension, sexual themes, no actual sex, still 18+, MDNI, smoking, Sirius being cocky, all characters being obviously of age in their final year - let me know if I missed anything

Summary: Sharing a cigarette has never felt more intimate.

Pairing: Sirius Black x Hufflepuff!reader

main masterlist | marauders era masterlist

Getting out of bed as quietly as you could so as to not wake him, you picked up your lingerie, dress and cardigan, throwing them on quickly, not caring how flattering or grandma-like they looked at the moment. Your only goal right now was getting out of here and making it back to your dorm in time for a shower – or three – and a quick nap before breakfast.

This was, without a doubt, the worst end of a date in history. 

A new set of lacy underwear, completely wasted! Not to mention your favourite dress that you only wear on special occasions! You cringed and suppressed the urge to groan as you adjusted the collar over a too large, purple hickey right at the base of your neck. How could you let this happen? Would make-up even cover it? You hoped so, seeing as you couldn’t exactly show up to class like this. You also did not care for a reminder of this night, but you kept that to yourself.

Closing the door behind you as softly and silently as you could, you tip-toed your way back to the Gryffindor common room, before letting out a relieved sigh. Thank Merlin, you are far too tired to come up with a polite rejection this late at night and judging by your less than enthusiastic reactions to the night’s activities, your partner should be truly blind to not figure it out himself.

But the relief is short lived as the figure slumped in the armchair by the fireplace made its presence known with a soft cough. Closing your eyes and sending a silent prayer to any deity willing to land a hand and save you from eternal embarrassment, you turned on your heel and came face to face with an amused Sirius Black, lighting a cigarette while regarding you with lazy, tired eyes.

“If it isn’t my favourite Hufflepuff” he taunted, his voice deliciously husky and his beautiful features half-hidden by the smoke emanating from the burning poison. “What brings you by, Sunshine?”

You arched a perfectly shaped brow, tilting your head to the side and offering a teasing smile in return.

“Do I need a reason to visit?”

Sirius let out a breathy chuckle, shaking his head while his eyes seem to roam every inch of your body, lingering on the exposed skin of your thighs. You feel a shiver run down your spine and sink your teeth into your bottom lip to keep any unwelcomed noises at bay. His ego is big enough without your obvious attraction to him inflating it further.

His smile widens until he almost resembles a Chesire cat as he lifts one hand, beckoning you closer with one quick movement.

It wasn’t new. In fact, it was quite a routine by now. Flirting, dancing around each other and pulling back at the last moment. You weren’t sure why you never took that final step. Was it fear? And if so, fear of what? Rejection, or the possibility of ruining your friendship forever?

Shaking away those thoughts, you obey his silent command, approaching the armchair carefully, as if reluctant to scare a predator into action. And he was, in a way, a predator, if the way he toys with you is any indication. This cat and mouse game you two engaged in started well over two years ago, and you were pretty sure that everyone in your vicinity was over it by now, the initial excitement and the bets losing their charm many moons ago.

“Tell me, love” he mumbles when you stop in front of him “were you shagging a vampire just now?”

Heat crawls up the back of your neck and you wish the ground would open up to swallow you whole. You were really hoping it wasn’t that obvious, but then again, you were also hoping to make it back to your own dorm unnoticed. Seems like your luck disappeared the moment you said yes to that godforsaken date.

Closing your eyes for a fraction of a second, you gather your thoughts and decide that he’s not winning this round. And whether he is Sirius, or your awful date, well, that’s between you and your ego to figure out. When your gaze catches his again, you move forward, stepping between his open legs, and lean in, your hands braced on his thighs and your face perfectly level with his. Your expression is the picture of mock concern, a smirk playing at the corner of your kiss-bitten lips.

“Why? Are you jealous, Black?”

Subtlety was never Sirius’ forte, so he lets his own smirk show as he leans in, your noses now barely inches apart.

“Of his technique? Not particularly.”

He tilts his head, bringing the hand holding the cigarette up and taking a long pull, his eyes fluttering closed, eyelashes brushing his sharp cheekbones, before turning it around and offering you a taste. You don’t back down, wrapping your lips around the base and breathing through the filter, acutely aware that this is the closest you’d ever gotten to kissing this insufferable man. His eyes follow the movements of your mouth, half-lidded and burning with a desire he’d never admit to.

“But McGonagall might have something to say about it in a few hours.”

“Then I’ll ask her the same question.”

Sirius barked out a laugh, head thrown back, shoulders shaking.

“I’d pay good money to see her face when you imply she’s jealous of your one night disaster.”

You raise a brow, cheeks pink with embarrassment you refuse to let take over.

“How’d you know it was a disaster? Maybe he was the best I’d ever had.”

Sirius scoffs, eyes rolling so hard you’re afraid they might get stuck.

“Lie to yourself all you want, love, but your body’s betraying you.”

You curse yourself internally before he continues his analysis.

“And your face? Dead giveaway. It’s truly entertaining watching you try not to cringe every few seconds as the material of your very pretty dress rubs against the purple monstruosity on your neck.”

Fuck. He had you and he knew it. You hung your head in defeat, closing your eyes and exhaling a low, long-suffering breath.

“He was…bitey.”

He snorts.

“Understatement of the year.”

Another drag of the cigarette, but this time he lets the smoke linger between you, a buffer meant to prevent an impulsive decision he cannot take back.

“Shame, really.”

You frown in confusion, moving to the side so you can perch on the armrest of the chair he’s occupying. Once you’re seated comfortably, you drape your legs over his lap, his hand coming up to rest on your thigh. This was definitely not a first, such gestures and seating arrangements being the very reason your friends started placing bets on when you’d finally cave and give in to temptation. It started as teasing one evening in front of the fire, but over time, it morphed into something familiar, something safe. Touch was both yours and Sirius’ love language, so it was really no surprise when you both found comfort in the other’s presence and contact.

“What is?”

“That he confused momentary enthusiasm with a memorable evening. Missed the point entirely.”

“Which is?”

“Making you want to come back.”

A cocky grin lifts the corners of your mouth as your hand wraps around his wrist, bringing the almost burned out cigarette back to your lips.

“So that’s your professional opinion then?”

Sirius shrugs, grey eyes settling back on yours, holding your gaze with all the confidence he applies to strutting around the castle like a damned peacock. A lazy smile stretches across his face as his free hand moves higher up your leg.

“Call it professional pride.”

“Bold claim.”

A snicker, his gaze flickering to your neck before coming back up.

“Never been accused of modesty, sweetheart.”

You hum and lean in close, your breath brushing the shell of his ear.

“I’ll reserve judgment until there is something to judge.”

With that, you get up from the chair and move towards the portrait hole, throwing a wink over your shoulder before disappearing completely, your sweet perfume the only evidence you’d ever been there.

[moonyswolfie]

─୨ৎ─ all the little things ─୨ৎ─

✧ love lives here ✧

a tim bradford mini-series

──────────୨ৎ──────────

put your lipstick on my neck

- watching you get ready is one of tim's favourite past times

it's golden

- golden. not because of the ring, but because of the life built around it

[moonyswolfie]

PLEASE A P2 ON ‘Put Your Lipstick On My Neck’

maybe them at the gala???

TAKE YOURE TIME WITH IT THOIGH YOU CAN IGNORE THIS IF YOU DONT WANNA💚💚

Hiii 💗 so incredibly sorry for the delay, I wanted to focus on my exams and not half ass any fics, especially any requests 🥹

I am so happy you liked the first part and it was your request that convinced me to turn this little universe into an actual series 🥹 thank you for that 💗

Now I have to say, I tweaked the request a little because try as I might, I'm stuck on the gala piece 😭 I keep writing and deleting and overall it feels like a patchwork of moments, but never the right ones. So I placed the plot for the next part a little in the future (warmer months, longer days) and decided that the whole series will focus on domestic moments between them, most of them probably in the privacy of their home, but I am working on an interesting piece involving the rest of the gang 👀 I will keep trying to find the right angle with the gala moment, but until then, you can find It's Golden on my page, the next installment in the series, and the masterlist for it here.

I will also refrain from numbering the parts, I think it feels more natural if they're random moments, like glimpses into their life together.

[moonyswolfie]

It's Golden

Exam season is done and I am back. I decided to turn Put Your Lipstick On My Neck into a mini-series featuring moments, mostly domestic, from Tim and reader's life as a married couple. I'm not planning a specific number of fics ahead of time, as ideas are bound to pop up, so I'll just leave the masterlist open and add to it as inspiration comes. I also made a separate one for this series, you can find it linked in the caption here, as well as in Tim's section of the main masterlist.

TW: soft Tim, slightly insecure Tim, love and tooth-rotting fluff

Summary: Golden. Not because of the ring, but because of the life built around it.

Pairing: Tim Bradford x wife!reader

mini-series masterlist

The blackout curtains covering your bedroom window did their best, but the sunlight trying to invade the privacy of your space won this round, sneaking a few rays between the faint crack in the middle. It was early in the morning, the digital clock on the nightstand indicating 6:48 AM. You were not a morning person, per se, not in the way Tim was, at least, but in the warmer months you did enjoy rising a little earlier than usual, if only to bask in the extra hours of daylight and admire how ethereal your home looked bathed in the golden hue.

It wasn’t often that your schedules aligned, but today happened to be both yours and his day off, which explained why your husband was still fast asleep and sprawled on top of you, successfully blocking any attempts to get up, or even move, on your part. A smile lifted the corners of your lips as you glanced down, taking in the way his strong arms were secured around your torso, your legs messily tangled with his, and his face pressed into the juncture between your neck and shoulder, his steady breath tickling your soft skin with each exhale. Truthfully, you could stay here and just watch him all day if he let you, the way the sliver of light danced across the bare skin of his back, how his muscles rippled every time he tightened his hold when he felt you try to move and the way his tousled hair – a result of your wandering hands the night before – made him look so young, so boyish.

“Y’starin’, sweetheart.”

His sleepy mumble made you chuckle, a disbelieving brow raising in challenge.

“Oh? And how would you know?”

He lets out a sigh, burrowing deeper into your warmth. Tim’s always been a physically affectionate man, never shying away from holding your hand, wrapping you safely in his arms, or kissing you in public. But when the day is over and the shields are down, he allows himself to indulge, finding comfort in you and the love you offer so earnestly – as if loving him is the easiest thing you’ve ever done.

And it is.

It took him a while to let himself believe it and you have no issue reminding him whenever he needs it, as many times as he needs it.

“Can feel y’eyes on me. ‘M’not sayin’ I don’t like it, s’just..” he trailed off “distracting.”

You bit your lip to hold back a giggle, shaking your head fondly. There was never a moment when your love for him faded, never wavered, and never withered. But you did have moments when you were certain your affection reached an impossible peak, and then surpassed it. Now was one of them: a soft and lazy start of the day, rumpled sheets covering your bodies, and him overwhelming all your senses, making you dizzy with pure, unfiltered happiness.

Your hands have been slowly caressing the broad expense of his shoulders for the better part of the time you’ve been awake, keeping your touch soothing, not wanting to disturb Tim, but needing to touch and ground yourself in him nonetheless. It still surprised you, even so many years down the line, how he could be so close – wrapped around you like a koala sometimes, or you around him – and you’d still need to tighten your grip, to let your hands wonder, feel him there – real, breathing, yours.

You let a hand migrate upwards, fingers gently tangling in his hair, nails massaging his scalp with the slightest bit of pressure. You feel his chest vibrate against yours as he lets out a content groan, melting into your touch like a purring kitten.

“Fuck, that feels amazing.”

You smile, leaning down to press a kiss to the top of his head, moving your lips gradually over any part of his face you can reach from this angle: his forehead, his temple, the apple of his cheek, his jaw.

“Softie.”

He huffs out a laugh, muffled for the most part by your skin.

“Married me anyway.”

A wide grin spreads across your lips, your heart fluttering happily right under his. Leaning down a couple inches, you let a soft whisper brush the shell of his ear, waiting patiently for the inevitable outcome.

“Best decision of my life.”

The reaction is almost immediate, his hold on your waist tightening as he flipped you over, now wide awake, his gaze hungry as his eyes move slowly across your form, taking his time committing every inch of you to memory. But it’s a different type of hunger, you notice. It’s not lust, not the need for your body that’s burning bright within him. It’s the need for your words, your heart, your love. You shift above him, moving to straddle him as his hands land securely, yet possessively, on your hips. Yours stay on his chest, his heart a steady rhythm beneath your palm, as you hold his gaze with a reassuring smile.

“Say it again.”

You grin, leaning in to cup his cheek, the rough stubble coating it feeling familiar and comforting.

“Marrying you was the best decision I’ve ever made. I can’t imagine my life without you in it, and I don’t want to. I love you, baby.”

His hand closed around your wrist as Tim turned his face to press a soft kiss to your palm. His thumb remained drawing mindless circles on your skin as his beautiful blue eyes took their time searching your face for any sign of doubt, of hesitation, of regret.

He found none, and a soft exhale passed his lips before he allowed a crooked smile to tug one corner up.

“I love you too. So much, angel.”

Closing the distance, you pressed your lips to Tim’s in the gentlest, sweetest kiss you’d shared, but one that still conveyed all the love and passion words never could. His left hand moved from your hip to your upper thigh, slim fingers caressing your skin reverently, adoringly.

A quick flash caught your attention as you pulled away to catch your breath. It was gone in a second, before you caught it again from the corner of your eye. Following the direction it came from, your eyes landed on Tim’s hand on your thigh, on the metal band on his ring finger, glowing in the golden light as it catches the sun. It’s a familiar sight, one you’ve grown accustomed to seeing every day, but now? Something different settles in your chest.

Because you realize that you cannot picture his hand without it, not anymore.

Because somewhere between your vows, the good days and the bad, the stress, the danger, and all the close calls, the ring stopped looking like jewelry.

Now, it simply looked like him. Steady, beautiful, yours.  

[moonyswolfie]

Weren't Mine to Lose

I'm bouncing between fics as inspiration hits. This has been sitting in my drafts since the High Potential season finale dropped and I'm finally pleased with how it turned out.

TW: smut, 18+ please do NOT interact otherwise, sir kink kinda, handcuffs, coitus interruptus, p in v, mentions of spanking, heavy and emotional angst, Nick is just a traumatised baby, miscommunication, everyone is hurt in this, friendship breakup kind of? let me know if I missed anything

Summary: He said it was a mistake. You heard you were one.

Pairing: Nick Wagner x detective!reader

Masterlist

His hands roam your upper body, caressing your hips and lower back as his full lips make their way up the column of your neck. The trail his fingers leave on your heated skin raises goose bumps in its wake and judging by the smile you feel against your skin as he scratches his blunt nails across your spine, he’s enjoying the way your body reacts to him a tad too much. But so are you, if you’re being completely honest with yourself. His touch is addicting and you have no idea how you survived so far without it, but the longing over the past couple of months made it worth the wait. You let out a gasp as you felt a knuckle brush the underside of your breast and his mouth descend, catching a nipple with his teeth and tugging gently before releasing and repeating the movement on your other breast, causing your back to arch and the beautiful man under you to smirk. Your fingers card through his hair, pulling with each soft bite he left on your breasts and the groans you were rewarded with only intensified the need you felt for him. His strong arms drew you closer to his chest, consequently lifting you higher on his lap and effectively changing the slow pace you set when you took charge earlier.

You tsk. You knew it wouldn’t last, and truthfully, you were dying to let him have his way with you, but you were still curious to see how far he’d let you get before his controlling nature inevitably took over. Not far, it seems. You felt the firm mattress against your back before your brain registered the movement, one arm looping around his neck to keep him close while the other sneaked lower, your greedy fingers leaving bold, red scratches across his back.

Fuck, it was wrong, so wrong, but it never felt more right.

The sharp nip of his teeth right below your ear brought you back to the present, to the hand moving to grab a handful of your ass and the sharp, delicious thrust that had you seeing stars. God, you knew he was a tease, but this –

The memory of him barking orders at you all day flashed through your mind and you pulled him back up and into a messy kiss, all tongue and teeth and unfiltered desire. The micro-managing usually pissed you off, but you cannot deny that you’d probably obey his every order, if only they bore such…pleasurable results.

“You’re thinking too loud” he mumbles against your lips, sinking his teeth harshly into the soft flesh.

You let out a yelp, followed closely by a dark chuckle, pinching his chin between your fingers and directing his gaze up to yours.

“Then make sure you’re louder.”

His eyes darken and his grip on your body tightens, before he lifts your hips off the bed, wrapping your legs tightly around his torso. The new angle allows him to go deeper, the sensations successfully emptying your mind of anything except him. One of his hands moves fast, catching both your wrists and bringing them up over your head. Eyes closing, you allow yourself to get lost in the overwhelming feeling of Nick taking all of your senses hostage, when a loud click has them snapping back open.

He just handcuffed you to the bedframe.

You smirk, shaking your head. Truth be told, you didn’t think he had it in him. Hoped, certainly, but Nick Wagner seems too good at compartmentalization to ever let the personal bleed into the professional or vice versa. You’ve never been happier to be wrong.

“Kinky.”

You test out the cuffs and almost laugh when a bit of light reflects just right off the chain.

“Did you seriously bring your department issued handcuffs into the bedroom? What, leopard fur lining not doing it for you?”

He shakes his head in exasperation, but you can see him trying to repress a grin.

“Keep mouthing off, sweetheart, and I might consider spanking you.”

“Is that a promise?”

You knew you were in trouble the second you opened your mouth, but really, who could blame you? You were dying to see his perfect self-control slip, just once, just for you.

When Nick took the Captain position and chose to also be active in the field, he thought it best to pair up with one of the detectives in his squad. That way, he was certain he could understand the ins and outs of his new precinct faster and it would help him earn trust and become a real part of the team. Since most of your colleagues were already paired up and Soto rarely goes out into the field, you were the lucky girl to gain him as a partner.

That was many, many months ago and your dynamic went from frosty-but-manageable to who-needs-words-best-friends so fast, even Morgan complained of whiplash. You discovered really quick that he wasn’t the villain everyone thought him to be and once you got to know him – the real him – you started opening up too. One coffee on shift turned into drinks after work, morning runs continued with carpooling to the office, babysitting Ingrid on your days off and the occasional sleepover. Your team started teasing you the moment they saw you getting out of his car that first time, but you were both adamant everything between you was completely platonic. And it was.

Until now, that is.

His movements picked up speed and you could feel yourself getting closer to the edge. You rolled your head back, giving him the best opportunity to move his sinful lips down to your neck and collarbones. You didn’t even care if he left any marks, you’d proudly display them while keeping his name to yourself. It was exhilarating, really, the idea of your Captain being your dirty little secret, and judging by the way he worshipped every inch of your body tonight, you knew he’d gladly take on that very title.

You nearly cry out in frustration as Nick’s hands move everywhere on your body, caressing, squeezing and applying just enough pressure to drive you crazy. Everywhere but where you wanted them most, however, and there was not much you could do with the restrains biting at your wrists, except whine and mumble about unfairness. Nick couldn’t help the smirk tugging at his lips as he pulled back and took a good look at you, all flushed and begging and beautifully his. Fuck, he’s imagined this exact scenario in his head more times than he can count and has half a mind to pinch himself just to make sure he isn’t dreaming. But he knows he isn’t, not with how exquisitely you feel wrapped around him, or how tight you’re squeezing his length with every deep thrust.

“Nick, I swear to God, if you don’t-“

He stops. The bastard actually stops moving.

“Have we lost our manners, sweetheart?”

Oh, if you weren’t so close to your sweet release, you’d be giving him a piece of your mind. But alas, he’s in control of your pleasure tonight and you know he’ll make it good. He’ll probably make it unforgettable if you actually behave, but really, where would be the fun in that?

“No, Sir” you grin wickedly as you lift your torso enough to be able to whisper in his ear “but you might need to resort to a direct order if you want me to obey tonight.”

Nick stilled above you, causing you to frown in confusion.

“Fuck.”

You’re starting to worry when he shakes his head, pulling out and away from you, a conflicted and almost pained expression adorning his handsome face.

Was it something you said?

“Nick, what’s wrong?”

He couldn’t even look at you and a feeling of dread settled in your stomach. The vulnerable position in which you currently found yourself wasn’t helping either. You anticipated an uncomfortable conversation and you really did not want to have it while handcuffed to the bed and very exposed.

Nick seemed to be thinking the same thing as he got up from the mattress, moving to the pile of clothes littering your bedroom floor and grabbing the key to undo the handcuffs and let your hands free. You rub your wrists, making sure the circulation is still good before you slide closer to him, placing a gentle hand on his bicep. The touch startles him and he jumps to his feet, pacing the length of your room and running his fingers through his hair over and over while he struggles to find the right words.

To say you’re hurt would be an understatement. Just a minute ago you were enjoying what was possibly the best sex of your life and now the air between you was so charged, it felt suffocating.

“This was a mistake.”

Your head snapped up, eyes wide and breath caught in your throat as you regarded the man actively breaking your heart with his words.

What?

“Nick…”

Disbelief, hurt and anger coursed through you and your heart couldn’t seem to settle on one in particular. Your eyes searched his face, trying to meet his gaze, but he wouldn’t allow it.

Suddenly feeling self-conscious, you grabbed the first thing you could reach - which happened to be his dress shirt – and covered yourself before finding the bedsheet abandoned at the foot of the bed. Slipping under the covers, you handed him the shirt in a silent plea to get dressed. You couldn’t have this conversation – or any conversation, for that matter – with so much naked skin distracting you. Your heart might not want anything to do with him right now, but your traitorous body did not get the memo.

The rustling of fabric signaled that he understood you without any need for words – he always did, it was why you worked so well together in the field. You understood each other, read each other so easily, you could anticipate the other’s moves without even looking. Daphne and Oz called it shorthand, Morgan called it telepathy and even took it as far as to gift you with a crystal ball on your birthday. You keep it on your desk because you genuinely enjoy her gift, love the connotation and, of course, it pisses Nick off to no end, seeing as he deemed everything even remotely related to the supernatural world a fake.

Now the crystal ball feels like a cruel joke because for as well as you know your partner, you couldn’t have seen this coming.

“I’m sorry..”

His voice breaks the silence and the almost resigned tone lacing his words makes all the quiet anger inside you flare up.

“Oh, you’re sorry? For what, exactly, Nick?”

“I-“

He closes his eyes, head hung low, as a sigh fills the already tense atmosphere in the room. You weren’t really expecting an answer, but his inability to provide one still stings.

“Tell me, are you sorry for wanting me…or for proving that you could regret me?”

“Sweetheart, it’s not – “

“Don’t!”

The painful waver in your voice finally gets him to look at you – really look – and witness the hurt he’s caused.

“Don’t call me that, not when you’ve made it clear it – I – was a mistake.”

He sighs, closing his eyes and nodding once.

“I think it’s best if we keep things strictly professional from now on. I can’t abuse my power like this. I can’t be him.”

You let out an incredulous scoff. Is he serious?

“I didn’t realize fucking me meant following in your father’s footsteps. Guess I grossly overestimated what I meant to you.”

It was a low blow and you knew it, but you were hurting and were not thinking rationally. And selfishly, you wanted him to hurt just as much, even for a moment.

His eyes betrayed the sorrow he was feeling, but he didn’t utter a single word as he finished getting dressed. He quietly grabbed his jacket and keys, slipping his phone into his pocket, and moved towards the door. You held the sheet closer to your body, the flimsy armor weak against the pain threatening to crumble you from within. With a hand on the door knob, he paused. You looked up just in time to see him turn around, cup your cheek with a touch so gentle, you weren’t sure it was there to begin with – and place a soft kiss on your forehead.

“I lost you, and you were never mine to lose.”

With that, he was gone, and the tears you valiantly held back for what felt like hours finally cascaded down your cheeks. You weren’t sure what you were mourning – your friendship, a relationship that was over before it began, or the fact that you let yourself fall, certain he would catch you – only to hit the ground with full force.

[moonyswolfie]

Please can you do a story where Tim Bradford falls in love with Nolans Goddaughter and she's from the navy. A total badass or like Hawaii five cross over

Hii! Thank you so much for the request, I absolutely loved this idea! I'm sorry for the long wait, but I wanted to take my time with this piece and do your vision justice. Unfortunately, I haven't watched Hawaii 5-0 in about 15 years, so I'm not familiar enough with the plot for a real cross over, but I gave reader a 5-0 background that also made sense within this universe. I really hope you like it!

You can find it here: Cupid's Bullet

[moonyswolfie]

Cupid's Bullet

This particular piece was requested and I loved the idea so much, I just let the story take over and see where I'd end up. 15 pages and 4.7k words later, I am obsessed with the final results! I slipped in some Criminal Minds Easter Eggs too, if you know, you know 👀

TW: one allusion to smut, towards the end (cargo pants, iykyk), Tim Bradford being emotionally constipated, one mention of Nolan x Lucy, Smitty, Jackson is not a bad guy in this one, I just needed someone for that line, we absolutely love him on this page! (and he lives in this one too), mentions of Rachel, incorrect timeline (I had to make adjustments to make it work); let me know if I missed anything

Summary: While on leave in LA, visiting your godfather, you catch the attention of one grumpy officer.

Pairings: Tim Bradford x NavyOfficer!reader / John Nolan x Goddaughter!Reader / Steve McGarrett x Daughter!reader

Masterlist

Closing the passenger door of your car, you made sure to lock it before making your way towards the range. Your go-bag was perfectly fine sitting in the trunk, but the front of the car seemed like the quicker option. Call it military training, if you will, always be ready at a moment’s notice. There was nothing wrong with that, of course. After all, it taught you how to be efficient and on time, a habit your dad tried to instill in you since middle-school. You weren’t trying to make a habit out of being late, of course, but you were cutting it pretty close for a long time before joining the Navy. Now, after years of adjusting your internal clock, you could not be late even if you tried.

The parking lot was buzzing with activity and if their shirts were any indication, the majority of them were LAPD officers. Good, you thought to yourself, got the location right.

You were on leave for a total of two weeks before you were expected back in Hawaii for God knows how long, so you decided to pay your favourite (and only) godfather a visit. An initial scan of the parking lot revealed no John Nolan in sight, but his car was here, so he probably headed inside to get ready for the test. You knew he had his gun qualifications today and that was exactly why you decided against going over to his house and waiting for him and Bailey. You were curious to see how his rookie training was going so far.

When he first told you he was enrolling in the Academy, you thought he was pranking you. Granted, it was well past the first of April, but the police Academy at 45 sounded like an odd kind of rebound after him and your Aunt Sarah got divorced. It wasn’t that you thought he couldn’t do it, you had complete faith in him. But you couldn’t help worrying over this sudden decision and the consequences it would inevitably bring.

Deciding to head inside and see if you could catch him before the qualifications began, you passed by two officers who looked like they’d rather be patrolling the streets at this ungodly hour than being here, proving their competence once again. The tall and broody one – a training officer, if the stripes on his sleeve were to be believed – sighed, shutting his car door with a little too much force. He spotted you and let out a loud scoff, rolling his eyes before turning to his colleague – a detective.

“I hate training with the public. Feels like we’re sharing trade secrets.”

The detective raised a teasing brow, not missing a beat, her keen eyes sparkling with amusement.

“Is it possible Tim Bradford is having performance anxiety? There are pills for that, you know?”

You chuckled softly to yourself, catching his snarky remark about Annie Oakley and something about a patrol crown. You knew cops were competitive, but you weren’t expecting the myths to be quite so true. Shaking your head, you hurried inside, keeping an eye out for your godfather while also trying your best to remain unnoticed for the time being. As it turns out, John Nolan is quite impossible to miss, one simply has to follow the endless teasing.

Seeing him after so many months brought back a lot of memories. Your first instinct was to run and hug-attack him, just like you did when you were little and still incapable of maintaining the element of surprise, but today you thought better of it. For one, because your stealth has improved and he wouldn’t even know you were there until you quite literally tackled him to the ground; and two, you wouldn’t want him distracted before the qualifications began and risk an accident, or, God forbid, him failing the test altogether.

Standing to the side and nearly blending in with the scenery, you listened as the Watch Commander explained how the morning’s events were to proceed. First round, the TO’s, second round, their rookies. If anyone failed the test today, they would have the next 30 days to better prepare and pass it. His tone, however, told a completely different story. He expected perfection from his officers, and honestly, who could blame him? These people are literally trained to protect an entire city if need be, and keep themselves safe and alive at all times. Failure was not an option.

You watched the TO’s get into position and were pleasantly surprised to see the witty detective from earlier in the same lane as John. But your interest was really piqued when the grumpy officer took the spot right next to her. Well, this should be fun.

Loud gunshots, bullets fired with rapid precision, magazines emptied and targets completely demolished. The training officers stepped back and the rookies took their spots. Your eyes followed each of them, cataloguing their familiarity with their weapons, the dexterity when checking everything was functional and the sheer determination shining in their eyes. That was, until your godfather looked away a fraction of a second, lowered his gun, and proceeded to completely flunk his turn, instead appearing infinitely more invested in a man wearing scuba gear and shooting hay dummies than his own target.

“Officer Nolan!”

His Watch Commander was as perplexed as you were. Why, exactly, did John stop? This is LA, weirder things have happened, a man training in scuba gear was really low on the list of suspicious behaviour.

The fire ceased, the test was done. John Nolan had failed spectacularly, and your self-restraint was right behind him.

“What the hell was that? You never take your eyes off a target, no matter what sparkly unicorn decides to fly into the range!”

So much for remaining unnoticed. All eyes turned to you, various degrees of surprise, confusion and amusement reflected in the officers’ faces. The detective – your godfather’s training officer – raised an inquisitive brow, leveled John with a glare, and pointed at you.

“What she said.”

You heard a mutter from one of the other two rookies – Officer West, by the name on his shirt – and cocked your head to the side, waiting for him to repeat the words. He rolled his eyes.

“All unicorns fly, it’s literally in their job description.”

You tried to school your expression, you really did, but couldn’t keep down the offended scowl you were certain was displayed oh so clearly on your face.

“No” your tone sounded dangerously close to your Aunt Sarah’s when she was trying to gently discipline baby Henry all those years ago “Only pegasi fly. It’s common knowledge.”

It took all your remaining will-power – and there was not much of that either – not to roll your eyes and mutter duh while you were at it.

“…Pegasi?”

“Winged horses. No horn. Ergo, different species.”

Officer West looked at you as if you’ve spontaneously grown a horn yourself. You sighed and shook your head, faux disappointment evident with every passing second.

“Amateurs.”

Then turned back to face John, the sternness you inherited from your father working overtime to ensure he took you seriously. But in all fairness, you did not think he would. The man has known you practically your whole life, has been there for pink themed birthday parties, difficult first days of school – granted, more difficult for Steve than for you – and even the years where you proudly decided to take after him and try and fix things around the house. Your idea of fixing, however, mostly included sticking crayons in the DVD player because the black and white film your dad was watching had to be the result of technical difficulties and setting up glitter bombs to go off in his and Danny’s go-bags because – and you quote – ‘the gear could use some sparkles’. So really, how were you expecting him to see you as an actual, functioning adult? Still, a girl can dream.

“But you!” you point a finger at his chest “What were you thinking? It’s literally the first lesson they teach you in the Academy! Eyes. On. The. Target! Do you want to get yourself hurt? Or worse?”

John lifted a brow, arms crossed over his chest, his expression bordering more on entertained than actually listening to a word you’re saying.

“Are you done?”

You huff, crossing your own arms.

“No, I’m not done! Exactly how many –“

“I’m sorry, but who are you?”

Officer Grumpy interrupted your lecture, his patience visibly evaporating. And good thing he did, because the mix of fondness and amusement on your godfather’s face almost made you pout, which would have undermined your whole argument. Your gaze shifted slowly, taking him in from head to toe. You clocked his posture, the way he carried himself, and the precision behind each movement. Military background.

Interesting.

You squared your shoulders and kept your chin up as you answered, voice steady, eye contact never wavering.

“Lieutenant Commander McGarrett, United States Navy.”

A few low whistles circulated the space around you, whispers too quick to decipher being exchanged between the officers.

“And the reason you’re chewing out Nolan for reckless behaviour – which he deserves, by the way – is?”

The detective trailed off, seemingly waiting for an explanation, but you suspected she was more invested in the drama than the real answer. And you couldn’t blame her, really. The way you were yelling at him just now suggested a level of familiarity usually reserved for loved ones.

Your eyes still on Nolan, you let out a long suffering sigh.

“If my godfather here wants to insert himself into some of the most dangerous situations known to man, fine, he has my full support. But he could, at the very least, prove that he can handle a weapon. For my sanity.”

The smile John was fighting finally broke through and he stepped forward, engulfing you in a warm hug. And as much as you wanted to be upset with him – or at the very least, keep up the appearance – you couldn’t help but hug him back tight, the feeling of home never failing to settle deep within your chest every time he gave you one of his legendary bear hugs. A few tears gathered on your lash line and threatened to spill over, but you willed them back. You wouldn’t cry now, especially not in front of such a large audience.

“You and your stupid timing.” you heard yourself mumble “Waiting until my dad retires and I’m finally done worrying about him to pull a stunt like this, so I have to start all over again? I’m too young to go gray, uncle John! You are successfully sending me to an early grave!”

“Now you know how I felt after you called to tell me you joined the Navy.”

“Touché.”

From the corner of your eye, you catch a slow movement, the Watch Commander leaning towards Officer Grumpy – whose name you read as Bradford – and mumble something about owing his daughter a big apology, making the other man chuckle. Huh, you didn’t think he was capable of it, with all that frowning shadowing his handsome face and all.

Nevermind, scratch that. Even grumpy and scowling, the man was beautiful in a way that had you thinking back to some Renaissance paintings you studied back in college. All sharp angles and surreal blue eyes, Officer Bradford was a study in divine proportion.

Letting go of your favourite honorary uncle (but don’t let Danny hear that), you took a step back and glanced towards the target practice lanes, an idea forming in your head. Turning on your heel, you addressed the Watch Commander, your expression settling into all business.

“Sir, may Officer Nolan try again today?”

The older man shrugged, looking between you and his oldest rookie.

“I don’t see why not, if he does it fast – and actually does it, this time.”

“Good” you nod once and move to pull your own firearm from your thigh holster, your mouth settling into a small smirk “how about a little contest, uncle John? Loser cooks tonight?”

Before he had a chance to answer, the other two rookies, Officers Chen and West, burst out laughing. Nolan frowned, confusion taking over his features.

“What?”

“A firing contest between you and a trained special forces operative? I hope you bought a flattering apron.”

“Hey! I could beat her, you don’t know!”

Detective Harper snorted.

“No, you really can’t. But the spirit is noted and appreciated.”

John was left gaping like a fish, before turning to you with a determined look on his face.

“You’re on.”

Grinning like you won the lottery, you grabbed a pair of protective goggles and some earmuffs, moving into the right lane once the holey targets were replaced with brand new ones. John Nolan knew his goddaughter like the back of his hand, yes, but this wasn’t a one-sided street. You took pride in the fact that you knew him just as well – and so, you knew what buttons to push in order to either get what you wanted, or encourage him to do something for himself. You knew first-hand how competitive he could get, he would never turn down a challenge like this.

“Ready.”

You checked your gun one last time, making sure everything worked as it should.

“Set.”

Rolling your shoulders, you moved into position, years of special training turning this little routine into muscle memory.  

“Fire!”

Gunshots drowned the previous silence, as shot after shot hit the dummies. You were vaguely aware of Nolan actually doing what he’s supposed to for a change, his shots ringing in the space around you and hitting true. But you were faster, more experienced. His fellow rookie wasn’t wrong to point out that this is, in fact, an unfair fight. 

One set done, you maneuvered the gun skillfully, reloaded, and pointed towards the second target. A few shots in, you stopped to check the clip and took notice of the single remaining bullet in the magazine. Well, you got this far. And fired again, hitting the paper dead center.

There was no denying that you were faster, John finishing his turn almost half a minute after you, but his task was well and truly accomplished, passing his gun qualifications with flying colors. Even the Watch Commander looked pleasantly surprised.

“Congratulations, Officer Nolan, you get to keep your gun. For now.”

You heard some cheers and watched money being exchanged between the rookies, before a groan cut the party short.

“What is it, Smitty?”

The Watch Commander looked like all the patience in the world could not get him through the next five minutes.

“Now I have to return this.”

He lifted his right hand and a silver whistle caught a ray of sunlight.

Sergeant Grey pinched the bridge of his nose, shaking his head through what looked like a few breathing exercises.

“Why, on God’s green earth, did you buy a whistle?”

“For Nolan, in case he failed his test.”

You weren’t sure how to react, but judging by the reactions of the people around you, this was a rather common occurrence. Officer Chen recovered first.

“You…kept the receipt?”

Smitty gave her a look that damn near called her stupid six ways to Sunday.

“Duh. I’m irresponsible, not reckless.”

This interaction must have lasted a lot less than you thought, because just then, the whirring of the cogs could be heard over the noise and chatter, the papers finally returning so you could properly see your results. The first target showed impressively close groupings, all within the center of the human shaped drawing. For you, this was a regular Tuesday afternoon. For the officers crowding to see the paper, your skill was beyond impressive. Nolan’s first target wasn’t bad. A few shots towards the arms and one towards the head of the dummy, but the majority of his first clip was evenly spaced between the circles on the torso. His second target came back, and there were no wandering bullet holes this time. Good, visible improvement. But then your second target came back, and you were barely keeping a satisfied smirk at bay.

Because right in the center on the target dummy, inside the smallest circle, you drew a heart. With bullets. And that quick magazine check you did before your last shot? Right in the center of the heart.

“Did you just…flirt with the target?”

You weren’t sure whether Bradford’s tone betrayed amusement or admiration, but you were good with either, really. You shrugged in response.

“Maybe.”

John’s eyes kept moving between the target and your smug expression, letting out an exasperated sigh.

“Did your dad teach you this?”

You scoff, placing a dramatic hand over your heart.

“Of course not! Don’t be ridiculous.”

He raised a brow, clearly not believing you.

“Uncle Danny did.”

The innocent smile tugging at your lips was enough to cause your godfather to shake his head. He should have known, really.

“Of course he did.”

Unbeknownst to you, Tim has been keeping an eye on you since he first spotted you in the parking lot. You didn’t look as out of place as the general public usually did at a police range, and the way you carried yourself led him to speculate that you had some sort of military training. He was glad when his instinct was proven right. He saw you watching their practice, blending with the shadows and tactically taking note of your surroundings, all while finding the time to lecture Nolan about his poor performance. Your emotionally charged reaction, however, surprised him at first. Only someone close to him would react like that. A daughter, maybe? You were certainly within the correct age range, but he’s only ever mentioned a son, Henry. A sister? Doubtful, really. A step or half sister, maybe, but again, not likely.

A girlfriend?

God, he hoped not. He knew Nolan had no qualms about dating younger – really, Lucy was not as sly as she thought – but you seemed a bit too young. And besides, wasn’t he dating that firefighter?

So who, exactly, were you?

He chalked his interest up to mild curiosity and deep distaste for surprises. So, he didn’t like the unexpected, sue him. That didn’t mean anything. But he was still adamant it didn’t mean anything when a relieved sigh slipped past his lips upon hearing the word ‘godfather’. He was simply looking out for you, is all. Why would he need to do so in the first place? Well, he was a cop. He took an oath, swore to protect the innocent. And you looked pretty innocent from where he’s standing. Never mind that you were fully trained and perfectly capable of doing all the necessary protecting. He was simply doing his job, his sworn duty.

Nyla clocked the conflict unfolding in his head, and very likely on his face, and leaned in to whisper, making sure no one else but him heard.

“You know, Bradford, it’s okay to have a crush. She’s pretty badass.”

He rolled his eyes, the notion simply too absurd to entertain.

“I’m a grown man, I don’t have ‘crushes’.”

The detective raised her hands in surrender.

“Just saying, I’m pretty tempted to ask her out myself.”

The glare he threw her way was enough to freeze Hell over, and he realized far too late that he fell right into her trap. She knew how to push his buttons and chose to do just that, judging by the self-satisfied smirk playing on her lips. He groaned, closing his eyes and begging for some divine intervention to save him from embarrassing himself further.

“Not a word.”

He had to admit, your little contest idea was intriguing. It was clear that you had an advantage, just as Lucy said, but he’s got to give credit where credit’s due, because it surely worked. Nolan got requalified. And you got to show off, not that he’s judging. If he could shoot that well and turn target practice into art class the way you just did, he would never stop.

As he watched the officers make their way towards the exit, he hung back, glancing towards your results once more. Before he could think twice, he moved forward and unclipped the paper from the practice dummy, rolling it up and slipping it into his go-bag.

*

It’s almost two weeks later when Tim runs into you again. To say that he is surprised to see your confused expression trying to make out the architectural structure of the bullpen is an understatement. He calls out your name, and relief floods your face.

“Hi, sorry, do you happen to know where John is, by any chance?”

“Booking, him and Harper just came in a minute ago.”

“Thank you, Officer Grumpy.”

“That’s not my –“

He stops short upon noticing the teasing smile playing on your lips.

“But you already knew that, didn’t you?”

You hum affirmatively, allowing your eyes to slowly and shamelessly check him out. Tim should feel uncomfortable. He does feel uncomfortable, but there’s also something else. Intrigue, maybe? He’s not sure.

Or rather, he wasn’t sure. But then you cocked your head to the side, opened those perfectly glossed lips and his brain successfully short-circuited.

“Do you want to have dinner with me?”

“I – uh – what?”

“I’m leaving for Hawaii in two days, I don’t know when I’ll be back in LA. But I hoped to see you again before I left. Preferably, in a social setting. That is, if you’re interested?”

Your voice betrays you on the last syllable, the hope undeniable as you wait for his reply. You see the conflict warring on his face, the same way it did two weeks ago as he watched you rip your godfather a new one for mishandling a weapon.

He should say no. Tim Bradford doesn’t do long distance. Isn’t that what broke him and Rachel up in the first place? And what is the point in going out on a date when any potential romance between the two of you would be doomed before it ever had a chance to start? But he finds that he doesn’t have it in him to say no, curious to see where the night might lead you, curious if you could become more than a fleeting memory and a make-shift poster hidden at the bottom of his gym bag.

He gives you a boyish smile, one that makes him look heartbreakingly handsome in the bright morning light.

“Yeah. Let’s do it.”

*

Almost three years later, you walk into Mid-Wilshire station as a woman on a mission. Getting a visitor’s badge at the front desk, you are sent on your merry way into the heart of the building, greeting people in passing and dodging hurried rookies running around like headless chicken. Passing the bullpen, you take the now very familiar right on the corridor and stop in front of the door you’ve been searching for. A quick knock revealed that your fiancé was not back yet, so you let yourself in, closing the door softly behind you.

You’ve always been proud of Tim, through highs and lows, good days and bad, opportunities and locked doors alike. You helped him study for the Sergeant’s exam and celebrated him when he scored 8th out of 140 people. You couldn’t help your squeal of excitement when a position opened at Mid-Wilshire and he got to stay with his friends and family. You knew how much he hated the idea of starting anew at a different station. But when he told you about Metro? You were so proud of him, you felt like your heart could burst.

Tim Bradford deserves the world, and the parts of it you couldn’t give him, you’d make sure to help him achieve.

Sitting down at his desk, you take in the newly decorated office. A few picture frames on his desk, a picture of the two of you from the day he proposed sitting closest to him and another, his favourite of you and Kojo, right behind it. His office supplies sit neatly organized before you and the case reports are arranged alphabetically in the drawers. You didn’t think he’d take your labeling idea seriously, but it turns out he was actually listening.

Moving your gaze to the wall opposite the desk, you freeze. It couldn’t be. Surely you are imagining.

But no. Right in front of you, framed and protected by a thin glass case, was your target practice sheet, the one you shot the first day you met. The light fixture in the small office space illuminates every line and bullet hole perfectly, drawing the attention towards the heart in the center immediately.

The door opens and you tear your watery eyes away from the case, focusing instead on a smiling Tim, who’s pleasantly surprised to see you earlier than scheduled. 

“Hey, sweetheart. I’ll be done in a minute, and then we can go to dinner.”

The soft smile you were sporting just before he came in turned into a wide grin, your eyes sparkling with so much love. Tim wished he could capture this moment, seal it in a magic jar, and never let it go for as long as he shall live.

“You kept it?”

Tim frowns, confused for a moment, before following your line of sight.

Oh.

“Yeah.”

His answer is so simple, so matter-of-fact, so Tim, that you can’t help the giggle that escapes your lips.

“Why?”

He shrugs, looking away, and you could swear a tinge of pink coated the apples of his cheeks and the tips of his ears.

“It represents the first day of the rest of our lives together.”

The tears slowly cascading down your cheeks turn into full on sobs as you get up from his chair and throw your arms around his neck, holding him as tight as humanly possible. His arms engulf your smaller frame as he nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck, inhaling your sweet scent and reveling in the knowledge that he is home.

“I love you.”

“I love you too, baby.”

“Oh, almost forgot!”

He jumps back, pulling suddenly away, eyes wide and teasing as he starts digging through the pockets of his uniform cargo pants. God, those pants give you unholy thoughts every single time.

Upon finding what he was looking for, he hands you a folded sheet of paper.

“What’s this?” you ask as you take and unfold the note.

“Metro hazing. The guys thought it would help team morale if we got matching tattoos.”

You frown, hands stopping any movement, as you glance between him and the paper.

“Cops who get matching tattoos inevitably end up in prison.”

The adoring smile he flashes your way is not consistent with the threat of a potential gang tattoo he’d just mentioned. Now you were really confused. For his part, Tim only sighs, shaking his head fondly.

“Just open it.”

You raise a brow in question before opening the page and as your eyes settle on the contents of his handmade envelope, you let out the most undignified snort. The pink unicorn sticker that looked like he’d seen better days gleamed in the low light, the glitter covering his mane still delivering the full effect.

“Matching tattoos, huh?”

“They covered me in them, I was pretty sure I’d find glitter in places a man never wants to find glitter for the foreseeable future. But I saved you the most intact one I could find. And don’t worry, I already gave one to West too, for old time’s sake.”

Biting your lip, you fished your phone out of your pocket, carefully transferring the adorable little unicorn onto your plain, baby pink phone case. Now every time you looked at it, you’d think of Tim, and all of the little ways in which he shows you just how much he loves you. And God help you, you love him right back, with everything you have, and more.

[moonyswolfie]

Put Your Lipstick On My Neck

I got this idea while rewatching the Valentine's Day Gala episode and I thought it would be nice to see some more whipped!Tim around here. It was supposed to be a drabble, but it sort of got out of hand and I ended up with over 1k words so I guess it's a mini-fic now? I hope you like it!

Title is from a Charlie Puth song.

TW: allusions to smut, but no actual smut, still 18+ in a way though, Tim Bradford being absolutely in love with his wife, if I missed any please let me know

Summary: Watching you get ready is one of Tim's favourite past times.

Pairing: Tim Bradford x wife!reader (it is not specified where she works, just that she works in law enforcement of some kind)

mini-series masterlist

The clock is ticking, but you pay it no mind. You weren’t running behind. On the contrary, you made sure to start getting ready rather early. Tonight was important to Luna, therefore it was important to Wade, and, by extension, to Tim. And if you knew one thing about your husband, it was that you were going to need some time to spare.

Tim Bradford always said that being on time meant being late. He drilled this lesson into each rookie he trained over the years and he was annoyingly strict about respecting this self-imposed rule himself. Lead by example and all that. And yet, when it came to his wife, he was cutting it really close.

Every.

Single.

Time.

It wasn’t his fault, really. It wasn’t yours, either. Not really. It just so happened that he could not resist messing up the bold, red lipstick you always applied with careful precision. Something about the colour was so enticing, and your full lips were always so inviting, he truly could not help himself. He had to touch, to kiss, to own.

You were so lost in thought that you failed to notice Tim leaning against the doorway, watching you finish your make-up with a fond smile adorning his face. The powder brush dusted your cheeks, the blush you chose complimented your skin beautifully, and he arrived just in time for the grand finale: the lips. Your husband was positively enthralled watching you lift your favourite lip pencil and contour the outline flawlessly, using the smallest, barely-there movements for the best results. He knew he was making a habit of cutting it close, therefore not leaving you much time to fix any potential mistakes, so your effort to get it perfect on the first try was much appreciated.

Carefully uncapping the lipstick tube, you finally spot your admirer reflected in your vanity mirror. The smirk lifting the corners of your lips could rival that of the Chesire cat. You didn’t need to read his mind to know what he was thinking, his eyes following the slow and sensual movements of your hands as you placed the cap on the table and twisted the lipstick up with practiced ease. The red you chose tonight matched not only your dress for the event, but also your nails, and the contrast was certainly not lost on Tim. The dress wasn’t even on, and yet he couldn’t wait to get you out of it, have your lip stains all over his stark white shirt and those elegant nails leaving matching red marks all over his back.

You return your gaze to your own reflection, the expensive product in your hand tracing slowly across your bottom lip first, followed by your cupid’s bow, then upper lip. The same careful precision you used on the job was now directed towards your own appearance and, in a way, it wasn’t much different. The sensitive equipment you handled at work was city-issued armor, but your looks? That was your personal armor and you were not about to let it crack.

“You’re staring.”

Your statement was delivered without looking away from your current task of filling in the corners, a detail that will offer a fuller effect of your lips later on.

“I’m not staring.”

You catch Tim’s gaze, pausing for just a second to lift a perfectly shaped brow, before reaching for a napkin. You dab away softly at the excess product before pressing your lips together and moving to recap the lipstick.

“Then what would you call it?”

“Observing.”

The adorable little laugh you let out made the smile on your husband’s face grow, his eyes showing so much love that if you weren’t already sitting, your knees would have certainly been buckling.

“Is that what we’re calling it now?”

Your tone was playful as you turned around in your chair to face Tim, only to be met with his approaching figure. He stopped behind you and placed a hand on your shoulder, urging you to turn back around, catching sight of your reflections in the mirror once more.

“It is when I’m trying not to ruin your lipstick before we even leave the house.”

“I thought ruining my lipstick before the main event was our little ritual.”

Tim let out a chuckle and the hand on your shoulder moved higher, his fingers tracing the soft column of your neck, lingering around your pulse point and leaving goosebumps in their wake. He tilted your head just a bit, exposing just enough skin to lean down and press a searing kiss under your jaw. You bite your bottom lip as you let your eyes close, your husband watching your reactions unfolding through the mirror completely enraptured. The quiet moan that made its way past your lips encouraged him to continue, his lips tracing the same path his fingers explored just seconds before, his teeth nipping when they reached the juncture of your neck and shoulder.

“Careful, or I might have to choose another dress.”

He hums, presumably considering the implications of your warning.

“We wouldn’t want that, now would we?”

“Not if we want to be on time.”

Stealing a glance at the clock on the mantle, Tim sighed in defeat, letting his fingertips graze the skin of your upper arm in a gesture of comfort. He knew if he continued his affections, you’d most likely be late and never hear the end of it from everyone at the station – that is, if you ended up leaving the house in the first place.

You lifted your hand to catch his, running the tips of your nails gently over his fingers before intertwining them with your own. A gesture of reassurance, of love, of commitment.

“You are so beautiful, it’s intoxicating.”

Tim Bradford was not a man of many words, but he somehow managed to always take your breath away with the most mundane of compliments. Very direct, very Tim. Each one made you fall in love with him a little bit more every single day.

“Thank you, handsome, but I have an inkling you might steal all the attention tonight.”

“Yours is the only attention I hope to steal, sweetheart.”

You couldn’t help the blush taking over your cheeks, nor the giggle escaping your lips of its own accord. You didn’t think it was possible to love someone this much, but here he was – warm and steady and so magnificently yours.

“You have it, my love. Always.”

[moonyswolfie]

I Know We'll Be Alright

So it has been a while since I wrote for a new fandom and this particular piece started as something completely different, but I am very proud of how it turned out and I hope you'll like it too!

TW: pregnancy (I know it's not everyone's cup of tea), slight mentions of smuttier activities if you squint, Karadec being a complete softie

Summary: A quiet morning filled with love and sweets is just what the doctor prescribed.

Pairing: Adam Karadec x wife!reader

Masterlist

The kitchen was bathed in early morning light as the scent of freshly brewed coffee enveloped the downstairs area of your house. It was around five in the morning and you were restless, so instead of tossing and turning all night and risk waking your husband, you decided to take out your frustrations on the ball of dough you let rest and rise overnight. It just so happened that your little baking escapade escalated rather quickly and instead of a tiny little loaf of bread, you ended up with two, one sourdough, two dozen muffins and a chocolate cake currently in the oven for which you were mixing up the chocolate frosting. And still, you remained restless. And now, on top of that, your cravings kicked in, but God only knows why, none matched with the pastries you already had cooling on the rack. The universe really had a twisted sense of humour.

Placing a hand on your seven month baby bump, you took a deep breath before moving to grab the apple basket on the counter. If your baby wanted apple fritters, then apple fritters she shall get.

You shook your head with a smile. She really is her father’s daughter.

Halfway through slicing the fruit, the timer went off, signaling that the cake was ready, at last. You checked the clock once more. A quarter to six. Hopefully, there will be enough time for it to cool and for you to decorate it before Adam would inevitably be drawn into the kitchen by the irresistible aroma. He had a sixth sense when it came to chocolate, you were certain of it.

Finishing up the apple slices, you grabbed the thick oven mitts you kept nearby and set the cake on a different rack to cool, slipping the hot pan into the soapy water filling up the sink. Batter is not that hard to clean up, but with the constantly growing mountain of dirty dishes, you were not about to take any chances and risk having to double or triple scrub the sugary bits later.

Letting out a soft sigh, you placed your hands on your lower back, applying just enough pressure to momentarily get rid of the uncomfortable knot interrupting your morning activities. There will be enough time to take care of it properly later and who knows, maybe you can rope your amazingly talented husband into lending a hand or two. Ever since the bump made its debut, Adam always found himself touching it, or you, in some capacity and in the last couple of weeks, massages had become a staple in your relationship.

Your thoughts were interrupted when two strong hands settled on your hips, pulling you in gently until your back made contact with a warm chest. His arms circled your midsection protectively and you felt his lips press a gentle kiss on your temple, before they moved lower, tickling your ear when the raspy ‘good morning’ made its way past them and you smiled, closing your eyes and relaxing into him, allowing yourself a moment to simply bask in the beautiful love you two shared and enjoy the peaceful scene.

Or you would have, if your husband wouldn’t have picked that moment to let detective Karadec out of the box.

“How long have you been up? And why does it look like a bakery exploded in our kitchen?”

You sighed and turned around in his arms, looking up at him with what you knew was a mix of amusement and exasperation while your hands moved slowly up and down his forearms. You knew this was coming. Adam’s been more than a bit too overprotective since you had shared the news all those months back and as your due date neared, the threat to cover you in bubble wrap and assign you a protection detail seemed to pop up more and more. You couldn’t really blame him, though. He worked a dangerous job and as much as he tried to keep his work life and private life separate, he still worried.

You weren’t helpless, of course. Your husband insisted on teaching you how to effectively defend yourself in case you ever needed – although he really hoped you wouldn’t need it – and you had him and his whole team on speed dial. All of the bases were covered. And yet, you suspected the worries would never really dissipate.

You wouldn’t have it any other way, though.

“Our little bundle of joy has been kicking me non-stop for hours. I didn’t want to wake you since you have to be at work in a couple of hours, so I found a way to keep busy. That, and the baby got hungry in the meantime.”    

“Which is usually code for you were craving something sweet.”

You tilted your head to the side and pursed your lips. He knew you well. Too well. Lifting on to the tips of your toes, you caught Adam’s lips in a sweet kiss while his hands roamed freely over your back, lower, and lower…

“Adam!” you chided playfully, catching one of his wrists and gliding your fingers to intertwine with his. The cold metal of his wedding band connected with your skin and sent a delicious shiver up your spine, a beautiful reminder that this strong, loving man was all yours.

His smile was innocent, but his eyes betrayed him. He regarded you with an intense gaze he only reserved for you and truthfully, you couldn’t get enough. Adam lifted your joined hands to press a kiss to your knuckles before his attention is caught by the various ingredients spread on the counter. One ingredient, specifically, lifts the corners of his mouth in a knowing smile and the adoration you can see so clearly reflected on his face nearly brings you to tears.

Damned hormones.

“You’re making my favourite desert.”

Not a question. An observation.

You sigh, but the smile tugging at your lips betrays you.

“Your daughter is craving apple fritters.”

Adam raises a brow, trying to keep a serious face, but fails miserably when the hand he’d kept on your waist migrates to your belly and he feels a strong kick. The grin that takes over his face can only be described as incandescent.

“Well, good morning to you too, babygirl.”

Feeling your baby kick for the first time remains one of your most cherished memories of your pregnancy so far, particularly because you both got to experience it at the same time. Granted, you’ve been feeling the tiny, almost imperceptible movements long before, but the first real kick happened one evening at home. Adam had just wrapped up a really hard case and all he wanted to do was cuddle you and bask in the fact that you were there, in his arms and alive, at least until reality came knocking back and Lieutenant Soto called with another case. It was peaceful for a few minutes, his hand resting over your bump, his face nuzzled into the crook of your neck, when you both felt it. A small jab on his palm, but that second of motion was enough to bring your husband to his knees. The kicks have become a normal part of your daily routine over the past couple of months, but they never fail to brighten your and Adam’s day.

You are sadly brought back from the trip down memory lane when his next words register in your mind.

“Why is she always my daughter when you’re craving sugary treats?”

And…well…you did not have a good answer for that. But your baby seemed to want to join in on the discussion, because you felt two more kicks, one after the other.

Yes, mom, why is that?

You couldn’t hold back the laughter.

“Alright, point taken.”

Biting your lip, you stole a glance at Adam’s handsome face, the stubble he has yet to trim for the day making him look rougher, but all the more breathtaking. You’d always loved feeling it on your skin whenever his kisses wandered down your neck and shoulders, not to mention between your thighs…  

Your husband doesn’t miss the newfound heat in your gaze and has half a mind to drag you back to the bedroom for a proper good morning, but he knows that if he does, he might not make it into work on time, if at all, and he will never hear the end of it, especially from Morgan. So he steers the conversation towards a different topic, one you’ve both been dancing around for weeks, and it’s like someone threw a bucket of cold water over you, making you groan and hang your head in resignation, resting your forehead on Adam’s chest.

“She still needs a name.”

“I know.”

“We’ve exhausted three baby name books.”

“I know!”

“So what are we going to do?”

“Why can’t we just wait?”

The bemused smile he’s sporting as he gives you a once-over only serves to annoy you further. You already know what he’s going to say before he gets the chance to open his mouth.

“Don’t!”

And that does it. Adam has to take a couple of steps back as he nearly doubles over laughing. He can’t help it, really, you are always adorable to him, but your not-really-upset-but-trying scowl, arms crossed over your chest and resting on your bump and your foot tapping on the floor has to be his favourite image of you.

“I’m sorry to have to point it out, sweetheart, but we are rapidly running out of time.”

“Then we wait until she’s born. And when we see her for the first time, we’ll know.”

You’d been wanting to suggest that for quite some time, but were not sure if your husband would be on board. You were perfectly happy to keep browsing for names with him, you loved the quality time spent together and teasing each other regarding your preferences – you leaned towards more unique names, whereas Adam preferred the old-fashioned ones. But after two weeks and no decision, you were ready to leave it all to fate, certain that you’d see her and just know.

Adam seems to consider your words for a few seconds before he nods. You close the distance between you two once more, wrapping one arm around his waist and placing your free hand over his heart. His arms loop around you, keeping you close as he leans down to press a kiss on your forehead.

“I think that’s a great idea.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

You smile and let out a relieved sigh. Now that the name issue is out of the way…

“Would you like to help me finish up my little baking escapade?”

Adam raises a brow.

“Little?”

You roll your eyes, waving a hand dismissively.

“You make it sound worse than it is.”

“Honey, I could feed the entire precinct with the muffins alone.”

Your eyes sparkle with an idea and you rush to the cupboard where you store boxes, foils and food containers, fishing out the biggest box you could find.

“That’s actually a brilliant idea! If you take the muffins to work, then that leaves me more room to bake…”

Adam shakes his head half fond, half exasperated. There was no stopping you, he knew, and it was easier just to go along with it. He could never refuse you and you knew it. But truthfully, he wouldn’t have it any other way.

[ilikeblueberryz]

⸺ james potter

(none of these works are mine !) Disclaimer : all fanfics listed here belong to their respective authors. please check out their profiles for more amazing work!

[ f ] fluff [ s ] smut [ a ] angst [ sm! ] social media!au

୨୧ love potion ୨୧ sick of their lovesick friend crushing on you, remus and sirius take it upon themselves to give james the boost he needs to talk to you. it doesn’t quite work out the way they planned. (by @theemporium)

[ f ] ୨୧ "super cocky and loud guy" ୨୧ (by @/theemporium)

୨୧ a𝗅𝗅 o𝖿 t𝗁𝖾 b𝖾𝗇𝖾𝖿𝗂𝗍𝗌 ୨୧ y𝗈𝗎 𝖺𝗇𝖽 j𝖺𝗆𝖾𝗌 𝗁𝖺𝗏𝖾 𝖻𝖾𝖾𝗇 𝗁𝗈𝗈𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗎𝗉 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗉𝖺𝗌𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝗋𝖾𝖾 𝗆𝗈𝗇𝗍𝗁𝗌. r𝖾𝖺𝗅𝗂𝗓𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗐𝖺𝗇𝗍 𝗆𝗈𝗋𝖾, 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖻𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗄 𝗂𝗍 𝗈𝖿𝖿, 𝗇𝗈𝗍 𝗄𝗇𝗈𝗐𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝖩𝖺𝗆𝖾𝗌 𝗐𝖺𝗇𝗍𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝖺𝗆𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀. (by @astonishment)

୨୧ only like you can ୨୧ ex boyfriend!james and reader just can’t seem to stay away from each other. (by @moonlightspencie)

[ f ] ୨୧ my girl ୨୧ no one makes james potter feel the way that his girlfriend does and he definitely knows it. (by @alwaysmoncheri)

[ s ] ୨୧ totally just friends pt1 ୨୧ what's weird? we are just friends. (by @singmyaubade)

୨୧ “i will if you kiss me?” ୨୧ james needs a tutor in herbology and you’re the best at it. (by @slut4prongs)

[ f ] ୨୧ obsessed ୨୧ it’s no secret that james potter is absolutely obsessed with his girlfriend and he couldn’t be more in love. (by @lucyrose191)

[ s ] ୨୧ no title ୨୧ public s*x with james and how he’d just be so amazing you don’t care that Remus is right there in the room not even focused on his book anymore. (by @ohwowimlonley)

[ f ] ୨୧ stay beautiful ୨୧ when you overhear some of James's friends comment on your weight, james comforts you. (by @pretty-little-mind33)

[ s ] ୨୧ dry hump pt1 ୨୧ james potter was your best friend, and he was unequivocally in love with lily evans. however, he has one secret he trusts only with you: he’s never kissed anyone. (by @myfictionaldreams)

[ f ] ୨୧ and i love her ୨୧ the 3 times James tries to get the girl and the 1 time he finally does. or In which james potter is hopelessly in love with his best friend. (by @dilf-lover99)

[ f ] ୨୧ an idea was born ୨୧ where james needed your attention and chose the fun way- for him. (by @shiftermia)

୨୧ no title ୨୧ whimsical!reader x james (not together yet) where anytime she says something he just has the most lovesick look on his face and sirius is like “we’ve lost him, boys” but then reader quips back with something about looking at those you’re comfortable and friendly with boosts your seratonin and you’re glad to have James look at you if it makes him happy. (by @moonstruckme)

୨୧ no title ୨୧ best friend james where hes won a quidditch game and everything but hes very tired and just wants to cuddle in bed with you. and hes asking for a kiss on every bruise he has all over his arms and neck. which sirius and remus watches with confusion. (by @/ddejavvu)

୨୧ behind them all ୨୧ it’s no secret that Hogwarts likes gossip and that it spreads quickly through the hallways but this time when james potter’s new secret girlfriend is the subject of said rumors everyone is scandalized, specially you. (by @in-between-thighs

୨୧ no title ୨୧ best friend james with no boundaries, sirius and remus definitely side eye the two of you but they don’t ever make it noticeable they’re just waiting for the two of you to finally get together, like james definitely rests his hands in between your thighs when he’s cold and remus is always muttering to sirius how that is definitely not best friend behaviour. (by @/ddejavvu)

୨୧ i thought you'd be different pt1 ୨୧ a cinderella story (maybe a little romeo and juliet while we're at it) but hogwarts - enemies-ish to lovers. you find an enchanted parchment through wich you anonymously talk to a stranger (james). when you meet him at the Yule ball, he is not who you expected, but you give him a chance. when you realise that was clearly a mistake, you flee cinderella style. (by @livinginshambles)

୨୧ guilty as sin? ୨୧ you 'loved' your boyfriend sirius. or at least, you loved him as a friend. but his best friend james. . . he was the one that made your heart skip a beat, he was the one in your wildest dreams. (by @andillneverbethesame)

[ f ] ୨୧ heart chaser ୨୧ James tries to woo you over many times before, with what he does best- being a showoff and with a promise of a hogsmeade date if they win the quidditch tournament. (by @empress-simps)

୨୧ something he'd overhead ୨୧ James finds himself head over heels when he sees you defending a first year student. (by @sleepiexx)

୨୧ little lupin ୨୧ (by @unconventional-lawnchair)

[ s ] ୨୧ the greatest heist ୨୧ when james's girlfriend decides to fuck with you, your only other choice is to fuck with her. (by @singmyaubade)

[ f ] ୨୧ bug eyed ୨୧ james fleamont potter’s less-than-normal attempts to get his other-worldly divination partner on a date. (by @floweringrott)

୨୧ genuine ୨୧ your boyfriend finally takes a role who has a romantic interest but his expression is hardly convincing; only you can get a genuine reaction from him. (by @kquil)

୨୧ cindy lou who ୨୧ you and lily have been polar opposites from birth, disconnected in everything. but when the one thing she has crosses the bounds, you can't avoid it even if it destroys you. (by @singmyaubade)

[ f ] ୨୧ darling boys ୨୧ you’re shocked when your son wants to spend time with you. (by @msmk11)

[ f ] ୨୧ endearing ୨୧ james potter teases you ALOT. (by @deatheaterv)

୨୧ coach!j x single mum!r pt1 ୨୧ (by @loverangels)

[ a, f ] ୨୧ she ignored my letter! ୨୧ In which, James writes you a love letter and hides it into your luggage carrying your clothes, not knowing he put it in a pocket you never open. (by @fear-less)

୨୧ in this life and the next pt1 ୨୧ You were Harry Potter’s best friend, but loss drove you to steal a Time-Turner which accidentally trapped you in the past — before Harry, before the war. You swore to keep your distance, but James Potter makes that impossible. The past wasn’t meant to hold you, and falling for him was never part of the plan. And yet you did anyway. (by @jacquitries)

୨୧ blue ୨୧ While previously being close friends, after your fourth year you distance yourself from James and he doesn't understand why. (by @pretty-little-mind33)

୨୧ twelve hours ୨୧ sometimes having observant friends is unfortunate, but now when they've been blind for so long... (by @yasministration)

୨୧ the prophecy ୨୧ (by @moonyswolfie)

[ f ] ୨୧ lovie ୨୧ in which you have never used any terms of endearment to call James— but your boyfriend, menace as ever, might have found a way to make it happen. (by @wintrsoul)

[ s ] ୨୧ streamer!jp ୨୧ (by @prettydaisygirl)

[ s ] ୨୧ james doesn't know ୨୧ (by @berrieluv)

[moonyswolfie]

The Prophecy

This is the first time I write a James x reader fic and honestly, it might be my favourite piece so far. I also could not help including some fluffy Wolfstar.

TW: mentions of the prophecy announcing Jily's doom

Summary: Love readings are never wrong.

Pairing: James Potter x Seer!reader

main masterlist | marauders era masterlist

The gift of Prophecy is not for the faint of heart. While the idea of glimpsing the future may appeal to some, they often disregard the fact that said future may not be as happy as they expect it to be. Tragedy is inevitable, after all.

Some may argue that the future is never set in stone and it can change at any given moment. And it is true, but would the changes be for better or for worse?

Ever since you discovered your affinity for Divination in your third year at Hogwarts, it was like something unlocked in your mind. That’s when the visions started. It was slow at first, one every few months, but the number increased over time and here you were, three years later, seated at the breakfast table in the Great Hall, shuffling your Tarot cards in order to make sense of your latest vision. Your dream interpretation notes were scattered next to your half empty plate and a piece of parchment and quill had your undivided attention at the moment.

The Fool.

Merlin, could this deciphering process be any more frustrating?

You hated that card with your whole being. It was perhaps the most vague out of the whole deck and it never really told you anything, especially when it came alone.

You shuffled again.

Nine of Swords.

This time you couldn’t hold back the eye roll. Nightmares. Well, no shit. This particular piece of the future did indeed come to you in a nightmare, but it was very fragmented and it did not make a lot of sense on its own.

Hence why you were furiously trying to decipher it.

There were times when you could have sworn the deck was working against you and either stating the obvious or giving you the most useless information possible. You were a firm believer that Tarot cards, while an instrument, had a will of their own and the particular deck you decided to use today was your most stubborn one.

You should have gone with the Rune stones or even your pendulum. You would have had more answers by now.

Pendulum work was not the same as Tarot readings. The crystal was more precise, but the downside was that it took you a lot longer, seeing as it could only offer ‘yes’, ‘no’ or ‘maybe’ answers.

You made it a habit, over the years, to combine the two. When the vision was particularly odd or even a bit eerie, you tried to get a better idea with the cards, untangle the emotional part with the Rune stones and finish with the pendulum that would guide you towards a clearer image.

This morning, however, it felt as if you would need a whole entire miracle to work it out.

“Good morning, love” the gruff voice of your very tired best friend snapped you out of your mental rant.

“Good morning” you mumble back, not yet looking up from the levitating deck of cards that throws another one at you forcefully, as if out of spite.

Ten of Cups.

Family.

That was it, you were officially going to go crazy. You knew that there was a deeper meaning hidden beneath the order and combination, the fact that none came out reversed and, of course, the Numerology. But your brain was not cooperating at the moment and it felt like your intuition took an early vacation because the cards felt empty. For all you knew, they might not even be correct and Peeves was just fucking with you bright and early in the morning.

With a defeated sigh, you lift your head and give James a smile as he takes his seat next to you, a brow raised and a bemused smile playing on his lips.

“Don’t start” you warn, anticipating his awful jokes at the expense of your serious interpretations that he believes to be useless in the long run.

He raises his arms in surrender.

“I didn’t say anything.”

“But you want to.”

“I just don’t understand why you exhaust yourself trying to make sense of these. You know as well as I do that barely a few are ever about you personally. And it’s not like you could warn every single person you see visions of.”

He has a point, you know he does, but what would it say about you if you didn’t even try?

Probably that you would be better rested and less snarky, but that was besides the point.

“This one felt personal” you try to argue only to be met with a look that betrays exactly how many times he heard you say that.

You clear out your deck of cards and the notes and books still open around you, placing everything carefully back in your school bag as James takes his plate off the table and fills it with everything in sight. The rest of the Marauders joined you in the meantime, all of them appearing to be in different states of exhaustion.

“Well good morning to you too, sleeping beauties. Rough night?”

Your teasing was answered by Sirius who let out the most dramatic groan as he leaned his forehead against his boyfriend’s shoulder, as if his mere presence at the breakfast table instead of still being in his bed and snuggling Remus was the greatest pain he’s ever had to endure. Remus did not bat an eye at his dramatics, however, more than used to Sirius’ behaviour by now.

You turn to James, brow raised in a silent question, but he just shook his head.

“It’s too early, darling” he muttered and continued eating “what did you dream about?”

That catches the attention of the other two boys and they turn curious eyes on you. Listening to you talk about dreams and visions you’ve had was not uncommon and they were always very invested in what you saw versus the reading that came after, explaining everything. It was like their own little daily puzzle to piece together before you gave them the correct answer.

“It…I don’t know, exactly. I only saw pieces and it looked as if they were years from now and from each other. I think it has to do with a family being torn apart, if my reading is to be correct. And something about nightmares, but truthfully, that could be about a different thing. Maybe the pieces are not even related” you shrug and look down, blushing faintly under the boys’ gaze.

Remus frowns and puts his fork down.

“What did you see, exactly?”

“A flash of magic, there was a scream, someone running up some stairs, a Dementor…and I felt this inexplicable coldness when I woke up, as if the creature left its mark in the real world, somehow.”

You shake your head, hoping to also shake this confusion and the images away. You were used to tragedy and whatnot, but the Dementors were where you drew the line. Those nightmarish beasts belonged far away from this school. If it were up to you, a world apart would not be far enough.

Remus hums, considering your words.

“It seems like you have an idea about the premonition already.”

You sigh and throw the deck of cards a disapproving look.

“I would have a better idea if those spiteful motherfuckers didn’t thrive in times of torture. Next Saturday cannot come faster.”

Your reply causes Sirius to bark out a laugh and Remus to let out a wounded whine. You almost chuckle, realizing your mistake, but stop in time as to not upset your other best friend further.

“I’m sorry, Remus, it’s nothing personal. I just really need the full moon to cleanse my cards and crystals and…well everything, I guess.”

James frowns and extends a hand to pick up the cards, but you slap it away at the last moment. He knows better than to touch anything you use for Divination.

“Why not cleanse them in the sunlight? And why am I never allowed to touch anything?”

His childish whine caused you to roll your eyes so far back that you were sure you saw your brain.

“The sunlight is usually used for charging, whereas the moonlight is reserved for cleansing. Except these – you lift the cards – don’t like the sunlight and lose all their energy as if in protest. And for the millionth time, Jamie, you cannot touch them because you will leave your energetic fingerprint all over the objects that are programmed to answer to me and me alone. Your energy would confuse them and they would stop working properly. I’m struggling with them as it is, don’t make it any harder, please.”

“Why don’t you use the other deck?”

Lily’s voice catches you off guard because one, she never speaks before breakfast and two, you didn’t realize she was paying attention to the conversation happening around her.

You let out a sigh and throw James a pointed look.

“Because Prongs here decided that he was bored waiting for me one day after class and attempted a love reading. And not only did he mess up that deck, he also managed to lose a few cards.”

Lily laughed, soon joined by Sirius and Remus, who shook his head and returned to his now cold breakfast.

“And what did the cards have to say?”

Peter, the last of the Marauders who managed to remain unnoticed until now, inquired, genuinely absorbed by the exchange. You felt a little guilty for not noticing him sooner and promised yourself to be more aware of your surroundings from now on.

James answered him, a proud smile lifting the corners of his mouth.

“That I already found the love of my life, but the timing is not right, so I have to wait a little longer.”

To say that everyone is shocked would be an understatement. Remus stopped with the fork halfway to his mouth, Sirius regarded his best friend as if he suddenly grew an extra head and Lily cocked her head, awed but disbelieving at the same time.

You rolled your eyes and smacked his arm lightly.

“Stop lying to them. I had to step in and do the reading all over again with a different deck.”

“See, now that sounds more like the James we know” Lily mumbled between spoonfuls of porridge.

*

Fate had a way of taking everyone by surprise – even the ones who already had a glimpse of the tangled threads of future. One decision could lead to greatness, whilst another – no matter how similar – could be one’s downfall. One action can change the course of one’s life.

And such was the case of your relationship.

To say no one expected you and James to start dating in your seventh year at Hogwarts would be a lie. To say no one expected your relationship to actually last over the years would be closer to the truth.

Despite his years of infatuation with a certain redhead, Remus and Sirius had a bet going on regarding when he’ll finally realize that he’s been in love with you all this time and chasing Lily was a hopeless endeavour. The latter became obvious when her secret relationship with Mary was discovered, but the first part was still a work in progress.

It was the little things that gave his feelings away, but ironically, the two of you were completely blind to them, much to the bewilderment of your friends.

That is when they decided to meddle.

And thank Merlin they did, because your life could not be more perfect – married to the love of your life and waiting for your son’s first Hogwarts letter.

When James came downstairs this morning to prepare his coffee, he was met with the sight of you, seated at the dining table and shuffling a deck of Tarot cards. He smiled to himself as he took notice of the charmed steaming mug on the counter awaiting his arrival and moved silently to grab it and take a sip, careful as to not disturb your reading.

The levitating deck threw a card on the table and knocked the pot of ink next to your scattered parchment, managing to drench them in the black liquid.

Your groan of annoyance had James suppressing a chuckle, as he was fondly reminded of a similar scene that took place 15 years ago.  

You were aware of his presence behind you. Of course you were, you were working with unstable magic, so you always had to be on your guard. But this, his lingering presence and silent watching has become a ritual over the years, one neither of you could start the day without.

“Don’t start” you warn, but instead of severity, you tone was full of love and fondness.

He raises his arms in surrender, a playful smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

“I didn’t say anything.”

“But you want to.”

You finally turn around in your seat, taking in the amused expression on your husband’s face. He placed the mug back on the counter and came behind you, leaning down to place a sweet kiss on your temple.

“I know better than to say anything, my love.”

You laugh and shake your head, catching his hand and placing a kiss of your own on his knuckles.

“You sure do.”

It took a while to decipher the vision you had almost two decades ago, but you did. And you were right, it was personal, but you never shared it with your friends. There was no point in it, seeing as life (and your friends) had other plans for James and Lily.

Dumbledore called it a prophecy, but you were certain you only saw a possibility. The future is, after all, uncertain.

“I love you” you whisper, but he heard it loud and clear.

His smile was so wide and so full of love, you were not sure where he stored this much happiness.

As he took a seat next to you, his lips met yours in a soft kiss, interrupted only by his equally quiet, but powerful confession.

“I love you too.”

[moonyswolfie]

Wendy to his Peter

So I was not sure whether I should post this or not. Last year I took a Creative Writing class and one of our assignments was to write a fanfiction. I wrote a Remus x reader inspired by Taylor Swift's Cardigan and I am very proud of my work, but it is a hurt, no comfort piece - hence the back and forth regarding sharing it with you all.

In the end I decided to upload it. Please proceed with caution and read all the trigger warnings before the actual fic.

TW: MAJOR CHARACTER DEATH, angst, hurt/NO comfort (no graphic details, simply mentioning minimal details and the aftermath), emotional damage, grief

Summary: Even the most beautiful of stories eventually come to an end.

Pairing: Remus Lupin x reader

main masterlist | marauders era masterlist

Your laugh was Remus’ favourite sound in the entire world. His second favourite was your soft, calming voice that slowly became his refuge during the worst of nights, when the pain was unbearable and his anger was taking over.

I knew you Hand under my sweatshirt Baby, kiss it better, I

You were his academic rival during the first few years at Hogwarts. At the end of your third, he decided to approach you and perhaps reach some sort of truce. The competition kept the both of you on your toes and your marks at the top of every Professor’s list, yet after a time it became tiresome. Remus didn’t come here to make enemies, after all. He came to learn and – hopefully – make some friends along the way.

The truce was rocky, to say the least. You were unwilling to back down and Remus was not yet wise enough to be the bigger person. You would jinx him every chance you got, while he retaliated with the messiest of pranks he could come up with. The tension between you only grew with time and after three years filled with arguments, silent competition and what seemed like obsession to your respective group of friends, it all culminated in a heated snog in the Library at the beginning of your 7th year of studies – until Madame Pince caught and interrupted you, of course.

Not a word was uttered regarding the event, not even to your best of friends. Remus’ ego could not take the imminent ‘I told you so’ from Sirius, or the embarrassment of reiterating the anticlimactic ending to the rest of the boys and you outright refused to give Lily the satisfaction of confirming your little crush on the Lupin boy. However, this awkward air between you did not go unnoticed. It got to a point where even the Professors could tell something was up, but if Madame Pince offered them any insight on the matter, it remained a mystery.

It only took about a month for the two of you to finally face each other and discuss the situation at hand. Neither could pinpoint when the repulsion turned into attraction, but after 7 years of being at each other’s throat, you were ready to bury the hatchet at last.

But I knew you Playing hide-and-seek and Giving me your weekends, I

*

Remus picked up a chocolate cupcake and held it so that you could bite into it. It was meant to be a romantic scene during a very sweet picnic date in the Astronomy Tower arranged by your nosy friends. They planned it so that it would fall on the night of the Winter Solstice, when the sky is littered with stars and all the constellations are on display for the longest time. It also happened to be your one month anniversary.

Unbeknownst to you and Remus however, a big and shaggy black dog was hiding in the shadows. James, Lily and Marlene wanted to come as well, but four people would be a dead giveaway of their intentions. James suggested that they use their animagi forms – hence Sirius’ current canine state – but he was reminded that a stag was the furthest thing from subtle, therefore all agreed upon Sirius carrying out this mission on his own and reporting back in the morning.

You accepted the sweet treat and played into Remus’ cheesy fantasy – only to get chocolate frosting all over your nose and upper lip. The boy couldn’t help himself. He burst out laughing and leaned in to wipe the mess away with his thumb before bringing it to his lips and ‘sharing’ the dessert in what he hoped to be a smooth tactic. You blushed and scrunching your nose, let out a chuckle of your own, shaking your head at the – was it your 9th ? – attempt at a romantic dinner. One day, you were going to have the perfect date. One day.

And when I felt like I was an old cardigan Under someone’s bed You put me on and said I was your favourite

*

It was not easy for Remus to open up about his ‘furry little problem’, as James liked to call it. He was practically caught red-handed and forced by the circumstances to tell his friends the truth. Safe to say, he was terrified of telling you about it.

“What if she sees me as a monster and breaks up with me?”

“Nonsense, Moony. That girl is practically in love with you. Nothing could scare her away.”

Sirius rolled his eyes at James’ argument.

“You’re such a sap sometimes” he groaned and lit up his third cigarette of the night “but I agree. She does love you AND she is educated enough on the subject of werewolves that she will not run away like any other brainwashed girl. I’d say give it a shot. It might bring you closer together.”

Lily was quietly playing with James’ hair, running her slim fingers through his unruly curls. She didn’t seem to be paying much attention to the conversation, so it was quite a surprise when her voice interrupted Sirius.

“You really think she doesn’t know already? Or at least suspects it?”

Remus frowned.

“What do you mean?”

Lily rolled her eyes and stopped all movements, in turn causing a sleepy James to whine.

“Remus, you disappear once a month – on the night of the full moon, no less! You show up the next morning looking like you just lost the duel of your life with the Whomping Willow, spend the next few days in the Hospital Wing and then go back to classes like nothing happened, except you are covered in cuts and bruises and sometimes even actual, serious injuries. Not to mention that occasionally you are in need of a cane. You get moody around the time of your transformations and almost bite the head off anyone who accidentally eats your chocolate. Need I continue?”

“Huh” Sirius intervened “if you put it like that, it sounds like dear Moons here…”

“Don’t you dare finish that sentence.”

Remus’ tone was enough to shut down any jokes on the matter. Lily resumed her previous activity, Sirius finished his cigarette and James fell asleep with his head in Lily’s lap. Everyone was content with the silence, which allowed Remus to clear his mind and weigh his options. He knew Lily had a valid point – if you didn’t already know, you were surely going to figure it out sooner rather than later and he didn’t want you feeling lied to. However, if you reacted poorly and Merlin knows, revealed his secret to the entire school?

He shook his head, banishing all negative thoughts on the matter. Despite the way you two met and how you took pleasure in each other’s misfortune in the beginning, you would never do anything to hurt him, not really. Bruise his ego and score higher than him on your O.W.L.s? Sure. But put him in harm’s way because of something completely out of his control? Never.

 “I’m going to tell her tomorrow.”

You drew stars around my scars But now I’m bleedin’

*

The previous night was a blur in his mind, the way it always was on the night of the full moon. However, this time around there was an uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach that brought about dread and something else he couldn’t quite explain.

Remus has been awake for quite some time now, yet he chose to keep his eyes shut and hide from the inevitable chaos of the Hospital Wing. He knew at least two of his best friends would be by his bedside and he was scared the third was badly hurt. He knew he hurt something…someone…the previous night during his transformation. He just couldn’t remember who.

He remembers the blood in flashes, the screams piercing his ears, and two strong antlers pushing him back – but nothing after that.

“Should we break the news to him directly? Or let Dumbledore do it?”

Dumbledore? What does the Headmaster have to do with anything?

“Shut up, Wormtail, he can hear you!”

“He’s asleep!”

“But not deaf!”

The last line was accompanied by what sounded like a smack across the head. The feeling of dread in the pit of his stomach intensified and he knew something really bad happened. Did he…did he kill someone?

*

Everything hurt and he couldn’t tell if the pain was physical or not. He couldn’t move, couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe.

The only thing on his mind were you.

He couldn’t accept what Headmaster Dumbledore told him that day in the Hospital Wing. He tried to argue, tell him that he was wrong – he had to be wrong – you were alive and well and would be arriving to check up on him any moment.

Except you didn’t come.

Not that morning, nor in the afternoon. Dumbledore waited with him that first day, as his heart hurt for the boy and he didn’t want him to face yet another loss alone. Remus waited for you again the next day and the day after, his eyes glued to the door and every movement sparked a glimmer of hope within him. But it wasn’t you.

It was never you.

After Madame Pomfrey gave him the all clear, he headed towards Gryffindor Tower and straight to the girls’ dormitories. The stairs were enchanted to allow no boy to reach that far, but it seemed the rules had been suspended that day. Or perhaps it only applied to him. He knew it was most likely Dumbledore’s doing, yet he could not bring himself to care. All he knew was that he had to find your dorm and there he would find you, books scattered all around you, quills and parchment within your reach no matter what spot on the bed you decided to occupy. He had to find you and then he would prove the Headmaster that he was wrong.

But when he opened the door, his heart stopped. All was gone, as if you never existed in the first place.

I knew you Tried to change the ending Peter losing Wendy, I

*

A fortnight passed since the full moon. A fortnight since Remus refused to leave his bed, to talk or even acknowledge the presence of his dorm mates aside from allowing Sirius to force a few bites of food down his throat so he wouldn’t pass out or wither away. It didn’t matter to him though, not anymore. He felt trapped, the all-consuming pain paralyzing his body and forcing his mind to replay Dumbledore’s words over and over again. Nightmares plagued his sleep, while memories haunted his waking hours.

He did this to you. He was to blame for this tragedy. He hurt you, the one he vowed to protect, to cherish, to love…

But I knew you’d linger like a tattoo kiss I knew you’d haunt all of my what-ifs

*

May brought along the N.E.W.T.s examinations and by then, 3 months had passed. Remus became a shell of the person he once was, but the Headmaster convinced him to study and pass his exams. If not for himself, then for you, as you would have wanted him to succeed and fulfill his dreams.

And so he did. He studied hard, caught up on assignments and passed his exams with Outstandings. He was relieved and thrilled for a moment, until he turned around to share the news with you – and reality hit him like a bludger.

You were not there.

The smell of smoke would hang around this long

*

Graduation was a bittersweet moment for everyone. After 7 years together – learning, partying, cheering during Quidditch games – it all came to an end. It was time for the boat ride that would take the graduates back to the train station – and back to King’s Cross. The boats filled out quick, seven spots each for seven years spent at Hogwarts.

But their boat took off with 6. James, Sirius, Peter, Lily, Marlene and Remus. The seventh spot remained empty, as it should have been yours.

*

“Hello, my love. I apologize for the delay.”

Remus stood before your grave, a beautiful bouquet of flowers in hand. He made it a habit to come visit you every other day, but the new teaching position he accepted at Hogwarts caused him to change his schedule a bit.

“Dumbledore offered me the Defence Against the Dark Arts position and I decided to take it. I think it will help create some stability in my life, help keep me occupied..”

He crouched and replaced the old flowers in the vase with the ones freshly picked today. Pink roses, your favourites. When he looked back up and read your name on the stone, beautifully engraved by your grieving family, his eyes welled up with tears.

“I miss you, darling, and I am so, so sorry for what I did to you. A day doesn’t go by that I don’t think about you, dream of you, wonder what could have been…my greatest love and the loss of my life.”