#mauraders x reader

[peprikaswag]

Me when I read a good fic then I see how reader called the character daddy:

[cosyravenclaw]

Lessons in Letting Go

Words: 9.5k ish

Summary: You’re a shy, careful Hufflepuff with little experience and even fewer confidantes. When the Marauders invite you to work on their assignment, you don’t realize you’re signing up for lessons far beyond charms.

Tags: MaraudersEra, BlackReader, Hufflepuff!reader, Innocent!reader, Virgin!reader, First time, Corruption kink, Marauders x reader, Polyamory, poly!marauders, Fluff and smut, Touch exploration, Overstimulation, Shy!reader

You’d been watching them from the far side of the pitch for the better part of half an hour, the autumn wind tugging at your Hufflepuff scarf while you waited. Quidditch practice for Gryffindor always seemed to go on forever, though maybe it only felt that way because you were standing there, gripping your books like a shield, rehearsing what you were going to say.

The Marauders — James Potter, Sirius Black, and Remus Lupin — were not the sort of boys you usually sought out. In fact, up until this week, your interactions with them had been limited to polite nods in the corridor and the occasional “sorry” when you passed them in the library. You preferred your small circle of friends, your neat stack of notes, and the quiet hum of the Hufflepuff common room over their noisy, chaotic orbit.

But now you were stuck in it.

Professor Flitwick, in what you could only assume was a moment of cruel whimsy, had paired the four of you for the midterm Charms project due in just a few days. And so far, the Marauders had contributed precisely nothing except a string of excuses and an invitation to “not stress, love, there’s loads of time.”

There was not, in fact, loads of time.

So here you were, waiting until they finished flying around like madmen so you could corner them.

James spotted you first as he swooped down, broom in hand, his hair plastered to his forehead. “Oi, Hufflepuff!” he called, grinning like he’d just scored the winning goal. “What brings you all the way out here?”

You straightened your spine. “We need to work on the Charms assignment. It’s due in two days.”

Sirius, landing just behind him, ran a hand through his long, damp hair. He had at least three silver rings glinting on his fingers and that lopsided smile that was somehow both charming and dangerous. “She’s so organised it’s terrifying,” he said to Remus, who was strolling over, broom slung over one shoulder.

Remus’s mouth quirked. “Terrifying? Or admirable?”

“Both,” Sirius said, tossing you a wink.

You felt your cheeks warm but refused to be distracted. “Can we please meet tonight? After dinner? We can work in the library—”

“No, no, no,” James interrupted, shaking his head. “The library’s a death trap. We’ll just end up getting kicked out for laughing too loud.”

You clutched your books tighter. “Fine. Where, then?”

“Our dorm,” Remus said easily. “After dinner. We’ll be perfect little model students, promise.”

Something told you that “perfect” wasn’t exactly the right word for them, but at least you had an agreement.

You’re almost hesitant to knock on their dorm door later, your palm hovering just short of the wood. The seventh-year Gryffindor boys’ room is off-limits to most people, you’ve never had reason to be here, and the knowledge that you’re about to step into their space makes your pulse race.

The door swings open before you can even knock. Sirius leans in the doorway, hair loose around his shoulders, smelling faintly of smoke and whatever cologne he wears that’s sharp and warm at the same time.

“Come in, Hufflepuff,” he says with a crooked grin.

Inside, it’s exactly the kind of mess you expected: broomsticks propped in corners, stray socks on the floor, posters of Quidditch teams and scantily-clad witches stuck to the walls. James is sprawled on his bed, tossing a Snitch lazily between his hands, while Remus sits cross-legged at the foot of his own bed, a book balanced on his knee.

You set your bag down at the small desk shoved between two beds and start unpacking your notes. “Right, so—if we split up the charm components, we can—”

You get maybe three sentences into your plan before Sirius derails the entire conversation.

“Did I tell you about that girl from Ravenclaw?” he asks, leaning back in his chair, voice low and teasing. “Absolute stunner. Kept me up all night last weekend.”

Your fingers tighten around your quill, eyes glued to your parchment. “That’s… nice,” you murmur, trying not to picture anything.

“She had this way of—” Sirius starts, but James cuts him off with a laugh.

“Oi, don’t corrupt our poor Hufflepuff. You’ve never slept with a bloke before, have you?”

You freeze. The question hangs heavy in the air, your quill stalling mid-stroke. “I—We should really focus on—”

Remus’s head snaps up, his eyebrows lifting. “Wait. You haven’t?”

Heat prickles at the back of your neck. “That’s not—It’s none of—”

“Hard to believe,” Sirius drawls, reaching forward to catch a curl of your hair between his fingers. He twists it slowly, watching the dark coil spring back. “Someone as pretty as you… untouched?”

Your cheeks burn hotter. “Can we please just work—”

But James is leaning forward now, elbows on his knees, eyes bright with curiosity. “You must get urges, though. Everyone does. How d’you deal with them?”

You shake your head quickly, desperate to divert the conversation. “James—”

Sirius smirks. “She’s got toys, obviously. Plays with herself when no one’s around. Virgins always do.”

Your mouth goes dry. You give a small, frantic shake of your head.

The room stills. Sirius’s smirk falters just slightly. “Wait. You’re telling me you’ve never—”

James’s eyebrows shoot up. “Not even once?”

You shake your head again, looking anywhere but their faces.

For a second, there’s only silence, and then Remus lets out a low, disbelieving laugh. “Merlin’s beard.”

Sirius leans back, grin returning in full force. “That’s… unexpectedly hot.”

“Very,” James agrees, his gaze sweeping over you in a way that makes you want to squirm. “You’ve never even been curious?”

You swallow hard. “I mean… maybe. I’ve heard the girls in my dorm talking about it.”

Sirius tilts his head. “So you’ve just… never tried. Never touched yourself.”

You shake your head again, embarrassed beyond belief.

James whistles softly. “That’s criminal. You don’t know what you’re missing.”

“Good thing we’re practically professionals,” Sirius says lightly, though there’s a dangerous edge to the glint in his eyes.

You blink at him. “What?”

Remus’s voice is smooth, almost coaxing. “We could show you. If you wanted.”

Your stomach flips violently. “No, I—we have to finish this assignment—”

“We will,” Remus says, leaning forward slightly. “Later. Right now… maybe you should let go a little. Let us show you how to feel good.”

You open your mouth to refuse again, but the curiosity you’ve been denying for years is whispering at the back of your mind. You’ve imagined what it might be like hands on you, mouths on you but never let yourself linger on the thoughts for long.

James must see something in your face, because his grin turns slow and knowing. “C’mon, sweetheart. You’ve trusted us with a school project. You can trust us with this.”

The heat in the room feels suffocating.

Sirius’s fingers are brushing the hem of your skirt now, not lifting, just tracing the edge. “All you have to do is say yes.”

You hesitate, then nod — once, barely.

“Atta girl,” Sirius murmurs.

The moment his hand pushes your skirt up, instinct flares and you draw in a sharp breath. “Wait, I—”

Remus is already moving, his lips brushing yours in a kiss that’s surprisingly gentle, stealing the rest of your protest. His hand cups your jaw, thumb stroking over your cheek as if to anchor you.

Sirius’s palm presses between your thighs, warm even through your panties, an experimental rub that makes your stomach clench.

Somewhere to your right, you hear James shift, the quiet click of buttons as your shirt begins to come undone under his sure fingers.

Remus doesn’t pull away.

If anything, his mouth presses more firmly to yours, the kiss deepening by slow, careful increments. It’s not rushed, not hungry in the way you’d imagined boys might kiss there’s patience in him, a measured control that makes it all the more dizzying. His lips part, coaxing rather than demanding, his hand still cupping your jaw like you’re something fragile he doesn’t want to break.

You’d expected kissing to feel… different. Wet, maybe awkward. Instead, there’s a warmth curling in your chest, in your stomach, a steady hum that’s making your knees feel strange even though you’re still sitting.

Somewhere in the background of that warmth, you register James’s fingers working their way down the front of your shirt. The soft click of each button coming undone is louder than it should be in the quiet of the room. The cool air nips at your newly exposed skin, but the heat in your cheeks more than makes up for it.

“Easy, love,” James murmurs, his voice low and smooth near your ear. “Just want to see you.”

Your breath catches. You want to close the shirt again, to keep it together — but Remus’s mouth is moving against yours with such careful insistence that you can’t bring yourself to stop him.

Meanwhile, Sirius hasn’t moved his hand from between your thighs. His touch is steady, palm warm through the thin cotton of your underwear, his thumb stroking idle, lazy patterns that make you tense without meaning to. It’s not invasive, not yet, but there’s something unbearably intimate about how unhurried he is.

“Relax for me,” he says softly, and the roughness in his voice makes your skin prickle. “Just let it happen.”

You try, but the awareness of his hand is like a pulse of its own, a steady reminder of what’s about to happen or what could happen.

James has reached the last button now, the shirt parting fully under his hands. You feel his gaze sweep over you, lingering where your bra covers the curve of your breasts. His fingertips trace along the fabric there, almost reverent, before sliding back to your shoulders to ease the shirt down your arms.

“Merlin,” he mutters under his breath, more to himself than to you.

Remus finally pulls back from your mouth, though he stays close enough that his breath mingles with yours. His eyes flick briefly to Sirius’s hand, then back to your face. “Still okay?”

You nod, though it’s a little shaky. “Y-Yeah.”

That earns you a small, approving smile.

Sirius chooses that moment to hook one finger under the waistband of your panties. You flinch at the movement not from discomfort, but from the sudden intimacy of it. His eyes are on yours as he slides the fabric to the side, slow enough that you could stop him if you wanted to. You don’t.

The cool air hits your bare skin, and you can’t stop the small shiver that runs through you. Sirius notices, of course he notices and his grin takes on something sharper.

“Pretty little thing,” he says, almost under his breath, before returning his attention to the task at hand.

He doesn’t plunge in with fingers, doesn’t rush. Instead, his thumb resumes its slow circles, only now there’s no fabric between you. The difference is startling. The touch is softer and sharper at once, every movement sending little sparks dancing low in your stomach.

You let out a sound you didn’t mean to, a tiny, breathy gasp that you try to swallow down. Sirius’s grin widens.

“That’s it,” he murmurs. “Don’t hold back.”

Remus’s mouth finds yours again, and it’s almost overwhelming now, the way they’re both on you at once one coaxing your lips open, the other coaxing something deeper from you entirely. James is still close, his fingers brushing along your arm, your side, tracing the edge of your bra as if committing every line of you to memory.

Sirius’s pace is maddening. He keeps his movements small and deliberate, circling slowly around that sensitive spot until your legs tense without your permission. Every time you start to tip forward into something sharper, he eases back, dragging it out until your breathing turns uneven.

You didn’t know it could feel like this, warm and fluttery and tight all at once, the tension coiling low in your belly with each slow press of his thumb.

“Breathe,” Remus murmurs against your lips, and you realize you’ve been holding your breath without meaning to. You exhale shakily, and Sirius takes advantage of the moment to press just a fraction harder.

The sound that escapes you is embarrassingly needy.

“Good girl,” Sirius says, and for some reason the words send the tension in your stomach snapping. It washes over you in a hot rush, your thighs trembling as you try to stifle the sound rising in your throat.

Sirius doesn’t stop. If anything, his movements smooth out, guiding you through the strange, rippling aftershocks until you slump slightly against Remus’s steady frame.

“First one?” James’s voice is warm with amusement.

You manage a breathless nod.

Sirius chuckles low. “Let’s see if we can make it two.”

Before you can protest, his thumb is moving again not as slow as before now, but still deliberate, still maddening in its precision. You’re already sensitive, the skin there tingling from the last wave, and the new stimulation makes you jerk involuntarily.

“It’s okay,” Remus murmurs, kissing the corner of your mouth. “Let it happen again.”

You’re not sure you can or maybe you’re too sure you can, too quickly. The second crest builds faster, Sirius’s focus unrelenting, his free hand bracing lightly against your thigh to keep you from squirming away.

It’s almost too much, but the way they’re all watching you, James’s eyes fixed on your face, Remus’s gaze soft but unyielding, Sirius’s smirk growing with every sound you make keeps you rooted in place.

When it hits, it’s sharper this time, a flash of heat and release that makes you cling to Remus without thinking. Sirius slows only when your thighs press together in reflex, easing you back down until your breathing steadies.

You sag against Remus, your head spinning, and somewhere above you, Sirius gives a satisfied little hum.

“Two,” he says simply, like he’s keeping score.

You don’t have the energy to glare at him not when your body still feels warm and liquid, the air thick with the mix of your breaths and theirs.

You’re still melting against Remus, your chest rising and falling unevenly, when James shifts beside you, sliding closer with a soft, teasing smile.

“Alright,” he murmurs, voice low and warm. “I want to see how many fingers you can take.”

Your breath hitches at his words, a flush creeping up your neck and spreading through your chest.

“W-What?” you manage, voice barely above a whisper.

Sirius’s grin turns wicked, but there’s something gentle in the way Remus squeezes your hand, steadying you.

“It’s okay,” Remus says softly. “We’ll go slow. You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.”

Sirius leans in, brushing a loose curl behind your ear. “We just want to make you feel good. Promise you’ll tell us if it’s too much.”

The nervous flutter in your stomach twists tighter, but their calm words, the way they’re watching you with nothing but care and patience, help quiet the rising panic.

James shifts again, carefully moving so that he’s directly beside you, his fingers warm as he gently parts your thighs.

“Just breathe,” he whispers, thumb brushing the delicate skin of your inner thigh. “We’ll take this as slow as you need.”

Your heart pounds as his hand moves lower, the heat radiating from his fingers making you tremble.

Then, with the softest touch, James presses the pad of one finger to your entrance.

You’re tight, impossibly tight and the sensation is unfamiliar, sharp and strange, but not unpleasant.

“It’s alright,” James murmurs, barely moving, letting you adjust to the pressure.

You bite your lip, blinking up at him, unsure but willing to try.

Slowly, carefully, he slides that one finger inside, inch by inch.

A sharp gasp escapes you, a mixture of surprise and intensity, and your hand shoots out to grip Remus’s shirt for support.

“You’re doing so well,” James encourages, fingers gentle but confident.

Sirius leans forward, fingers deftly undoing the clasp of your bra. The cool air hitting your exposed skin makes your nipples harden, and your body tenses, caught between nervousness and something deeper, something raw and alive.

He trails his fingers lightly over your breasts, careful not to rush, teasing your skin before slipping a single finger inside the cup, circling the tender skin beneath.

The contrast between James’s slow intrusion and Sirius’s teasing touch is electric, your body reacting in ways you didn’t expect.

James gently moves his finger, the motion slow and deliberate. You wince slightly, tightness wrapping around him like a velvet glove but the ache in your lower belly is growing warmer, softer.

“Feels good?” Remus’s voice is a soothing balm next to your ear.

You nod, breath trembling. “Y-Yeah…”

James, encouraged, tries to ease in a second finger.

It’s harder this time. Your muscles instinctively clench around him, tight and protective.

“Okay, okay,” James murmurs, pausing to let you adjust. His thumb strokes slow, comforting circles on the outside of you.

You close your eyes, steadying yourself with shaky breaths.

The pressure grows, stretching, unfamiliar but not painful, and the heat blooming inside you pulses deeper.

Sirius shifts, lips trailing down your neck, warm and teasing, distracting you from the tightness with whispered promises and soft nips.

You gasp softly as James gently presses the second finger further in, but it’s clear you can’t take more than that right now.

“It’s alright,” Sirius says, voice low and reverent.

Your body is a coil of tension and warmth, every nerve alive with the subtle, exquisite teasing James and Sirius are giving you.

James keeps his fingers moving inside you with a slow, patient rhythm, the barest glide in, then a small circle, barely touching the most sensitive spot. His thumb rubs gentle, feather-light patterns against your skin outside, keeping you balanced between ache and delight.

You’re so wet, it’s like a warm flood pooling beneath you, the slick heat making every touch feel electric.

Sirius, never far from you, lets his fingers wander freely now, tracing lazy paths over your bare breasts. His touch is slow and deliberate, teasing your nipples until they tighten and peak beneath his fingers.

His breath is hot against your collarbone, and every time his hand squeezes gently, you bite your lip to stop a soft moan from escaping.

Sirius’s voice drops to a low murmur, teasing. “That’s three, love. You’re amazing.”

You blink, startled at how fast your body is reacting — how quickly you’re coming apart beneath their touch.

James slips his fingers a little deeper, careful to keep the pace patient but insistent. Every slow stroke feels like a secret promise, like you’re unraveling just enough for them, and it’s overwhelming in the best possible way.

Your breaths come faster now, shallow and shaky, chest rising and falling under Sirius’s hands.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmurs, his fingers tightening just slightly on your breast, then releasing with teasing softness.

James’s thumb strokes faster for a moment, light flicks over your swollen clit, and the coil inside you snaps.

Your muscles clench tightly around his fingers, and a moan escapes you — soft, broken, utterly real.

Sirius chuckles low, lips brushing your ear. “That’s four.”

You want to protest that you can’t take much more, but the way their touch feels so deliberate, so slow and full of care it makes you want to keep going, to see how far you can fall into this sensation.

James pulls back just enough to give you a moment, then pushes in again, a little deeper this time, fingers curling in a way that has your back arching off the bed.

Sirius’s hand slides down to cup your hip, steadying you, while the other keeps playing with your breast, rolling your nipple between thumb and finger with teasing patience.

The heat in your chest builds, the ache in your belly growing sharper, a delicious tension that makes your legs tremble.

“Let go,” Remus’s voice whispers from behind you , steady and grounding.

You do.

Your body trembles violently as your fifth orgasm crashes over you, breath hitching in ragged gasps. The world narrows to the warmth flooding through you, the gentle touch of their hands, the sound of your own voice breaking the silence.

Sirius grins wider, brushing his lips softly over your temple. “Five.”

You cling to Remus’s shirt, your skin tingling, still sensitive and raw from the waves rolling through you.

James doesn’t stop.

His fingers move again, slow and sure, coaxing you back from the edge teasing, holding, building until your breath comes in shallow pants and your legs quiver uncontrollably beneath them.

“You’re incredible,” James murmurs, voice rough with admiration.

Sirius’s hands keep roaming your body, one hand sliding up your side to cup your breast, thumb circling the hardened peak with teasing patience, the other trailing soft kisses along your jaw and neck.

“Six,” Sirius says, his voice a soft purr.

Your chest tightens again, the last sparks of sensation igniting in a firestorm that leaves you trembling and breathless in their arms.

They’re not just touching you, they’re learning you, memorizing every sigh, every twitch, every flinch of pleasure and hesitation.

And you’re letting them, even as your cheeks burn with embarrassment and your heart pounds fiercely in your chest.

Because with them, everything feels different.

Safe. Sacred.

James’s fingers don’t stop. They keep moving, teasing, coaxing, and you feel yourself spiralling, dizzy with pleasure and overwhelm. Your breaths grow shallow, your body trembling in ways that feel both exquisite and impossible to control.

But suddenly, it becomes too much.

Your chest tightens, and a sudden rush of panic flashes through your mind. You try to pull away, to free yourself from their hold, but their hands are gentle yet firm, keeping you cradled and safe.

“I—I need—” Your voice falters.

Remus, sensing your distress instantly, leans in without hesitation, lips capturing yours in a soft, grounding kiss. The kiss is slow and steady, calming like a balm, pulling you back from the edge of overwhelm.

Sirius’s hand stays warm and steady on your breast, fingers moving with tender care, easing the tension rather than adding to it.

You try to focus on the steady pressure of their touches, the softness of Remus’s lips against yours, the way Sirius’s thumb circles your nipple with infinite patience.

But the waves crashing inside you don’t stop.

Your vision blurs, the room spinning gently, and your body, overloaded and trembling, finally gives out.

Darkness claims you.

When you wake up, it’s to the soft morning light filtering through the curtains, casting a pale glow across the room.

You blink slowly, your head heavy but strangely peaceful.

You’re in Sirius’s bed, the sheets tangled around you, the faint scent of him still lingering in the air.

Panic flares briefly in your chest, memories from the night before rushing back in a chaotic flood.

You sit up carefully, feeling the cool breeze against your flushed skin, and notice something resting on the bedside table: a parchment neatly folded.

Heart pounding, you reach for it, unfolding the note written in James’s familiar handwriting.

“Hey! we had to head out early for Quidditch practice. We finished the assignment, so don’t worry about a thing. We’ll catch up later. — J, S & R.”

You bite your lip, cheeks burning as you glance down at the parchment lying next to it — the completed charms assignment, all neatly written and corrected with their notes and doodles in the margins.

A mix of embarrassment and warmth floods through you.

Last night feels like a secret world you stepped into, one you weren’t quite sure you were ready for, yet don’t regret in the slightest.

You take a deep breath, smoothing your skirt and pulling your shirt back over your shoulders, before disappearing through the door.

*

*

*

[unreasonablerobin]

First time in a long time

Sirius Black x Reader

Synopsis: You hadn't seen them in years. Not since your best friend and her husband had died. You couldn't bear to face them—him. Even if he hadn't done it, you abandoned them when they needed you most, they didn't want to see you. At least that's what you thought.

W.C: 3.2k

Tags: Fluff ♡, Angst ✮, set after the war but everyone's alive (yippee!)

You don't know how it's been. How long has it been since you've seen Mr and Mrs Weasley? How long has it been since you've seen your old friends? Have you ever met your best friend's son? Far too long you imagine — considering the reaction you had upon spotting the letter with that all too familiar writing on your windowsill. You paced the kitchen, drank concerning amounts of tea, got dressed to leave the house only to retract your hand from the doorknob like it was searing hot.

Now you're crying at your little dining table. Overwhelmed by the decision given to you mere hours ago. There are haphazardly hung Christmas lights and piled up dishes around the kitchen. The overwhelming clutter in your small home wasn't helping you focus on your thoughts. You huffed and raked your hands through your hair. You so desperately wanted to see them—but what would you say? What would they say? You abandoned them in the darkest of times. James, Lily and Peter were dead, Sirius was sent to Azkaban and Remus was left all alone. You knew the lies you'd been told back then were exactly that, lies. It was Peter who sold your best friend and her husband out, not Sirius. That doesn't mean you didn't leave him and Remus on their own when things got tough. You'd be guilty of that for the rest of your life. But could you put that guilt aside to see them one more time?

Sirius gazed longingly at the front door of Grimmauld Place. The others at the dining table stared pitifully or with a confused expression. Molly Weasley sighed.

"She's not coming, Sirius." She said disappointedly and dropped a plate of veg onto the table.

"You don't know that," Sirius remarked dismissively.

"Sirius is right, we won't know until the end of the night." Remus put some roasted potatoes onto his plate. "Besides, the war is over now, perhaps she'll more willing to talk."

"It's been over a decade!" Molly huffed as she sat down. "I love that girl but be reasonable—"

"Who are you talking about?" Harry asked.

Every adult's eyes landed on him. The sudden realisation that Harry had no idea who you were dawned upon them. Such a prominent and important figure in his parents' lives and yet he had been deprived of all knowledge of his family. Of course, that's what you were; family. No matter what happened James, Lily, Sirius and Remus would always see you as family. Even if they never saw you. Your name slipped from Sirius's lips. A fond smile graced his face.

"Was she a member of the order?" Hermoine asked.

"She is more than that Ms. Granger," Sirius took a sip of his drink. Setting the cup down with a clink. "She is a dear friend."

Remus gave the four teens a knowing look. Ron scrunched up his face when he realised what Remus was implying. Arthur and Ginny stifled a laugh at the interaction.

"If things had played out better, you'd be calling her auntie right now."

Harry was immediately ten times more engaged in what Sirius was saying. Anything about his family had him entranced.

"She was a friend of my parents?"

"She is your mother's best friend."

"If you ask me it should've been her to look after Harry." Molly aggressively cut at her slice of turkey.

"If she was his mum's best friend—why didn't she look after him?" Ron asked.

Everyone looked to Remus. The last of your friends you had spoken to. He pushed the food on his plate around whilst contemplating his words.

"Why didn't Dumbledore ask her?" Arthur questioned.

"Dumbledore did ask her." Remus finally spoke. "She said no. She said she couldn't handle it."

He took a deep breath. "After losing her two closest friends, and Sirius her—" he trailed off and cleared his throat. "—being sent to Azkaban for it, really sent her off the rails."

The room went silent. Everyone understands to some extent that you were far too grief-stricken to take on such a responsibility. The sorrowful silence was interrupted as the Weasley twins came crashing down the stairs.

"Would the two of you stop messing and sit down!" Molly screeched as they came tumbling into the dining room, pulling at each other's sweaters.

"What's got everyone so gloomy?" George asked.

"It's Christmas—lighten up!" Fred patted Harry on the back.

"They're right! We should enjoy what we have right now," Arthur muttered with some stuffing in his mouth. "And hope that maybe we can have more."

A comfortable silence fell upon the group. The vague story of a girl once known by some still lingers in the minds of the teens.

DING-DONG

Everyone's head snapped up at the sound of the doorbell. Grimmauld Place was not the place carolers stumbled upon. The feeling of confusion suddenly switched to shock and excitement. Sirius shot up and quickly made his way down the narrow hallway. Remus followed close behind.

"Holy shit this is a mistake." You whispered to yourself as Grimmauld Place stood menacingly before you.

Your boots kicked up snow as you bounced on your feet. Adrenaline rushed through your veins and puffs of air rapidly escaped your mouth. An envelope was clutched in your shaking—not shivering—hands. The address for the home of your long-lost friend is scribbled on the letter within alongside an invitation, declarations of missing and compliments that should be kept private. As you exhaled your shaking hand pressed the doorbell.

You chewed on your lip in anticipation. Snow squelched as you continued to bounce on the balls of your feet. Your fingers began tapping against the envelope and you tried to ignore every thought in your head

"I can't!" You declared to yourself.

Your coat swayed as you spun around and began to head back the way you came—but then the door swung open. You froze. Not from the winter chill but the sound of your name being whispered with such heartfelt devotion and longing.

"You came."

The breeze filled your senses as you turned around. Almost shamefully. You didn't know how to face him. Your long-time friend, a man you fought in a war with, a man who you believed at one time murdered your friends. Yet you claimed to love him. Hogwarts taught you many things but never how to face someone you lost so many years ago.

"I did." Your voice wavered a little, you hoped he would pass it off as the cold.

From the pitiful look he gave you, you knew he knew the truth. He always did when it came to you.

"You already have the invitation, what are you waiting for?" He gestured for you to come forward.

The interaction was awkward and a static guilt buzzed along your skin. Nevertheless, the same smile Sirius brought to your face all those years ago re-emerged. Snow crunched beneath your boots as you walked up the steps. The door softly clicked shut behind you. Warmth immediately wrapped around you. Grimmauld Place didn't give the feeling you had imagined it would based on Sirius's stories. Maybe it was the lack of Death Eaters or the array of Weasleys laughing. Whatever it was the house you'd imagined as dark and dreary proved you wrong with its homely feeling. Remus gave you an excited smile.

"It's nice to see you."

"You too."

You stared at one another for a moment before strongly embracing each other. After a moment you parted and he returned to the dining hall with a smile. Sirius snuck up behind you.

"Don't be nervous, darling." He muttered with a hand hovering above the small of your back.

Sirius wasn't sure what to do. To be honest, he wasn't exactly sure what you were to one another after so long. He loved you, he knew that for certain. You had to still love, or else you wouldn't have come—but the years of silence have him questioning if you love him the same way he loves you. His hand softly settles on your lower back. Sirius huffed a small laugh at the way you shivered, and he guided you towards the dining room. Whispers carried through the walls.

"Who was it?"

"What's got you all smiley?"

"She came."

"She came?!"

"Oh, Merlin! It's a Christmas Miracle!"

"Move! Move!"

Molly swung the door open. Her hopeful expression quickly changed to an overjoyed one at the sight of you.

"Oh—it's so lovely to see you!" She hugged you tightly, motherly even.

She clung to you like you would dissappear any moment. Molly only pulled away at the sound of Arthur clearing his throat. She gave him a displeased look over the shoulder.

"You've gotten taller." He teased.

"I really don't think I have."

"Ah yeah, you have." He smiled. "C'mere."

You hugged Arthur briefly. Molly took your cold cheeks in her hands when you pulled away.

"Oh, you're as gorgeous as ever!" She exclaimed.

A group of unfamiliar late teens peered from the dining hall doorway. Several gingers you could pinpoint as Weasleys, a girl you'd never know before, and a boy with an all too familiar face.

"Oh—these are my boys!" She gestured to two tall and identical boys, and a shorter boy. "George, Fred, and Ron."

"And this is Ginny!" Arthur put a hand on her shoulder.

Two eagerly greeted and the other two sheepishly greeted.

"This is Hermione and—" Remus signalled to the brunette girl and she gave a small wave.

"I'm Harry." He interrupted. "Harry Potter."

He felt nervous to say his own name. He obviously wanted to know you and what you knew about his parents, but it sounded like a sensitive topic.

"Harry Potter?" The room stilled as you repeated his name.

He nodded his head. The adults exchanged concerned looks as you silently stared at the boy. Unlike others, you stared at him, not his scar. You examined his face—his eyes in particular. Your hand slowly reached out, gently lifting his glasses. Just enough so you could get a better look at his eyes.

"They look exactly like your mother's."

"So I've been told."

You smiled at that. Not a tight-lipped smile out of politeness and courtesy, but a genuine one. Harry looked at Sirius in the corner of his eye. What he saw was another genuine smile, with something more.

"This is very touching but the food's getting cold." Fred ruined the moment.

"Yeah I'm starving for hot mash not cold mash."

Molly shushed the twins and herded the children into the dining room. Arthur followed with Ginny, Hermione slipped away from the door not wanting to be in anyone's way. Remus and Sirius watched fondly as you settled Harry's glasses back on his nose.

"Fred's right, the food is getting cold." Remus made his way back to his chair.

Sirus ushered you and Harry through the door and to your seats. Everyone had their designated seats. Arthur, the twins and Molly on one side. Ginny, Ron, Hermione, Harry and Remus on the other. Sirius sat at the top of the table. He motioned to the free seat across from Remus. Molly was already shovelling food onto your plate before you even sat down.

"Don't worry, dear! I still make it the same way!"

You smiled at the warmth you were being wrapped in. Some much for all that anxiety and overthinking earlier. You'd thought maybe you would he belittled for not getting in contact sooner. To be honest, you weren't sure why you hadn't. You contentedly ate the hot meal.

As time passed, everyone began to settle and talk. Your arrival had stunned some into silence. Fred and George quickly got back to bantering, Ginny was teasing Ron about something—Molly was trying to keep everything in order, bless—Arthur and Remus discussed something to do with the Ministry. Harry, Hermione, and Sirius remained quiet. The teens pondered intensely and Sirius silently admired.

"If you have a question you can ask me, you know." You muttered to Harry.

"Sirius said you were my mum's best friend."

"I am."

Hermoine smiled pitifully at your use of present tense.

"What was it like?" He asked. "I mean to—you know—"

"Know them?" You found his words for him.

He nodded with an awkward and solemn expression. You sighed.

"Well, I met Lily first—technically I met James first, but I became friends with your mum first—me and James didn't get along at the start."

"Really?" Hermoine questioned.

"Really." Sirius confirmed. "She scoffed everytime she saw him."

"To be fair, Lily did too." Remus defended.

"Did my parents not like each other when they first met?" Harry looked between the three of you.

You all shook your heads in sync.

"Oh no—not at all—well James certainly fancied her, that was clear." You laughed. "Lily didn't give him much thought for our first few years though."

As the dinner continued you smiled and laughed, recounting stories of your youth and eagerly sharing them with the teen boy.

"Alright!" Molly clapped her hands together, gathering the attention of everyone. "Present time!"

The kids (as Molly still called them) were spread around the sitting room. Colourful paper was ripped and tossed aside as they opened their gifts. The Weasleys got new handmade sweaters to add to the collection, Hermione got a new book series she'd been eyeing in Diagon Alley, Ron; some new Quidditch gear, Ginny; a bit of makeup, and Harry got a broom polishing kit.

"Ron—those are class!" Fred commented.

"What do you say about a game of Quidditch?" George quickly suggested.

The Weasleys raced outside into the cold for a game. Harry got up and followed, but he didn't make it out the back door before you pulled him aside.

"Harry, I—" you hesitated. "I got you something."

He was surprised. Upon your first meeting, you had a gift for him.

"Really?"

"It's not much but—uhm—I thought it would be nice for you to have." You conjured up a vinyl.

"I made it for her." You admitted solemnly. "Her eighteenth birthday, to be precise."

"You made her a vinyl?" His fingers grazed the borders of the vinyl cover; a moving photo of you and Lily.

It was clearly taken by someone else. The two of you were lying in a meadow, flowers in your hair, laughing together.

"I'm sure Sirius has a record player around here somewhere." You muttered.

Harry was too busy analysing the gift. His mother's favourite songs are listed on the back, a glossy black vinyl with her favourite colour decorating the centre inside paired with a handwritten letter.

My dearest Lily,

Congratulations on turning 18! It has been an honour to watch you grow from a smart and sweet girl into an astounding and beautiful woman. I won't make this letter too long (for it may end up tear-stained).

Lily, you are my dearest friend, arguably the most precious person in my life. You've been there for me through the brightest and darkest of times and I am privileged to call you my friend. Not only that but I am so utterly grateful to have been there for you in both your brightest and darkest times.

Lily, I don't know what I would do if you were to disappear. I might go mad without you. So, for every ones sake, I hope I can continue to have you by my side.

Yours truly,

"You can give it a listen to later," You gave him a small nudge. "Go play with your friends." Harry smiled at you and set the vinyl down and ran out the door.

"It was sweet of you to give that to him."

You whipped around to see Sirius leaning against the doorframe. A fond smile graced his face.

"He doesn't have much of Lily." He sighed. "And I know you don't either."

He took a few steps forward and stood in front of you, with his hands in his pockets.

"Well, I at least have memories of her." You locked eyes with Sirius. "He doesn't have that privilege."

Silence enveloped you both. Familiar but uncomfortable. It had been a long time since you'd been alone with Sirius, back then you took any chance you could get to be alone with him. Now you didn't know how to feel. Your heart races and aches for him, but your mind however tells you to flee. It fears the pain of losing someone again. Or rather him all over again.

"Listen..." He whispered your name and cupped your cheek.

Your breath hitched as his thumbs grazed your bottom lip.

"My darling, how I missed you so." Tears prickled the corners of your eyes.

After all these years of tormented and abandonment, he still stared so lovingly at you.

"How can you say that? After everything..." You cried it his palm.

"We all cope differently." He consoled. "You needed to be alone to handle your grief—and there's nothing wrong with that."

Your shoulders shook as you began to sob. "I'd hate me if I were you—"

"—but I'm not you, and that's why I'd still love you even if you'd ripped my letter to shreds." He professed.

You crashed into his chest and threw your arms around his neck.

"Oh, Sirius..." You weeped.

His hand on your cheek slid to the back of your head and his free arm wrapped around your waist, holding you close.

"I was so angry with myself."

He stayed silent awaiting your explanation.

"Even after it all came out—that the Ministry believed you'd gotten them killed I—" You hiccuped. "I still loved you!"

"I felt awful for betraying them and I felt awful for believing that you'd do such a thing!"

Sirius pulled away slightly to wipe the tears cascading down your face.

"That doesn't matter now, what matters is that we're here now—together." He sighed. "You can't fault yourself for believing in me."

You reached a shaking hand up to wipe away the final tear.

"You understand? The way you felt wasn't wrong, it wasn't a crime." You nodded your head in response. "Good."

A more comfortable silence took over once you got the weight off your chest. Sirius still held you closely.

"This may be improper but you look beautiful." He complimented. "Maybe even more than the last time I saw you."

"My face is covered with tears, Sirius." You remarked.

"Still beautiful, darling."

You gave a light laugh. "I think those twelve years really got to you."

"I think they made me even madder for you." His thumb brushed your cheekbone. "All that time without you is what drove me the most mad."

You stared into his grey eyes. Remus and Molly laughed at a joke Arthur made in the other room, Hermione silently flipped through her books on the couch. The Weasley children and Harry were causing a ruckus outside. Laughter and cheating accusations flew through the open window. Sirius's thumb found its way back to your bottom lip.

"May I? For tradition, of course."

You peered above to see mistletoe growing from the ceiling. It certainly wasn't there before, only appearing after Sirius had secretly cast it.

You smiled. "You may."

He leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss to your lips. You pulled him back in for a much more passionate one after.

"Glad to see you two making up," Remus commented.

"More like making out." The twins grimaced.

"Merlin! Would you get inside!" Molly huffed.

They scurried inside, broomsticks in hand and snow falling off them.

A/N: I had so much more Christmas stuff planned but procrastinated like mad. This only got finished bc my friend wanted to read it so thank her. Hopefully, I'll get back to writing more soon.

[unconventional-lawnchair]

Lily's Touch

Poly!Marauders + Lily x Reader who's experiencing her first heat...

Summary: The reader is experiencing her first heat, and no matter how hard she tries, she can't get her nest right.

WC: 1.4k

CW: Omegaverse, grammar and spelling, not proof read, references of intense emotions and the reader is self conscious.

Remus knew it was coming- everyone did.

Seven years of Hogwarts, two years of living with your mates, and not once had you experienced a heat.

It didn’t bother him, not really. It didn’t bother any of them, but they all knew how much it bothered you. The way your shoulders tensed when Lily went into heat, how you’d quietly dote on her with sweet affections, offering soothing touches and cups of tea. But when it came to yourself, you withdrew, closing in on yourself like you didn’t deserve the same attention. You never said it outright, but they could see it- the way you felt left behind, as though your body had somehow failed you. It broke his heart.

They’d tried to comfort you in countless ways. Late-night reassurances, Remus’s soft words murmured over cocoa, James’s hand squeezing yours with that protective and reassuring energy, Sirius teasing you relentlessly until you couldn’t help but laugh, and Lily’s endless supply of comfort. They’d spent nights making sure you knew that even if you never went into heat, even if your body never did what you expected, it wouldn’t change how much they loved you. You were theirs, no matter what. But words only went so far.

Yesterday, everything changed.Remus was the first to notice.

It started small; little things, like the way you trailed after them through the house, never straying too far from anyone’s side. You clung to Sirius’s shirt that morning as he made breakfast, your fingers twisting in the fabric absentmindedly. Sirius had given you a curious look but said nothing, choosing instead to ruffle your hair and tease you lightly about being clingy. Normally, you’d respond with a sassy remark or a playful shove, but this time, you simply leaned into his touch with a quiet hum.

James noticed next. You curled up beside him on the couch, tucking yourself under his arm like you belonged there, and he didn’t question it. He simply wrapped an arm around you, pressing a soft kiss to your temple while Lily smiled knowingly from across the room.

By midday, it was undeniable. You were restless, unsettled in a way none of them had seen before. Your instincts were bubbling just beneath the surface, tugging at you in directions you didn’t fully understand. And by evening, it all came to a head.

The last sign was when Remus got up to move. You’d been half-curled in Sirius’s lap, Remus’s fingers absentmindedly tracing patterns along your ankle. But the moment he shifted to stand, you stared at him, wide-eyed and panicked, as if the simple act of him moving away was too much to bear.

“Hey, it’s alright,” Remus cooed softly, pausing in place. He hadn’t meant to upset you, but the way your eyes began to water sent a sharp pang through his chest.

“I’m sorry.” You mumbled, your voice small and shaky. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

“There’s nothing wrong with you,” Remus whispered gently, stepping closer again. “Come here.” He opened his arms, and you immediately clung to him, pressing your face into his jumper with a sniffle of a cry.

That night, Remus took you to bed with him, and the simple act of being close seemed to calm you. But it was only the beginning.

The next day, it became clear to everyone- this was it. You were going into heat for the first time.

No one said a word, not wanting to put pressure on you. The human body was strange, and any small thing could ruin this. They wanted you to experience it at your own pace, to live through it without the weight of expectations. But by afternoon, as everyone gathered in the living room, it became impossible to ignore.

You’d gotten it into your head that you needed to build a nest. It started with a pile of blankets and pillows in the corner of the room, but no matter how much you arranged and rearranged them, it didn’t feel right. You’d build it up, only to tear it apart moments later, frustration growing with every failed attempt.

Remus had seen it coming- how you were spiraling between uncertainty and instinct, your body and mind at odds with something new and overwhelming. It made his chest ache, watching you struggle to build your nest, tearing it apart moments later as frustration clouded your features. He wanted to reach out, to tell you again that it didn’t matter if it was perfect. That you didn’t need to prove anything to them. You were enough. You always had been.

But he knew better. You needed to figure it out in your own way. Still, he stayed close, crouched beside you, ready to help if you asked.

Lily’s voice was calm and soothing, her fingers brushing through your hair as she murmured reassurances. “It’s okay, love. It doesn’t have to be perfect.”

“But it feels wrong.” Your voice trembled, hands twisting in the fabric of a blanket as though it might somehow yield the answer you were looking for. “I don’t know what I’m doing.”

“It’s strange the first time,” Lily said gently, her hand never pausing in its soothing strokes. “You’re doing great, I promise.”

You didn’t seem convinced. Remus could see the doubt weighing on you, the way your shoulders tensed under Lily’s touch. It wasn’t frustration anymore; it was fear. Fear of doing it wrong. Fear of not being enough.

“You’re trying too hard,” he said softly, leaning in a little closer. “It’s okay to ask for help.”

“I don’t want to mess it up,” you whispered, your voice thick with emotion. “I just… I want to impress you. I want it to be good. I want to do it right for once.”

The words hit him harder than he expected. You didn’t need to impress them. You didn’t need to be anything other than who you already were. He reached out, gently taking your trembling hands in his own, giving them a soft squeeze. “You don’t have to impress us,” he said quietly. “We already think you’re incredible.”

James knelt beside you, hazel eyes warm with quiet affection. “We’re proud of you,” he whispered. “No matter what.”

Sirius plopped down on your other side, grinning as he draped an arm around your shoulders. “Come on then, what is it?”

You blinked at him, confused. “What’s what?”

Sirius shrugged, voice teasing but kind. “What’s that pretty head saying? What’s it want you to do?”

For a moment, you hesitated. Remus could see the conflict in your eyes, the way you bit your lip nervously. But then, something shifted. You let out a shaky breath, slowly rising to your feet. They all watched in silence as you paused, glancing around the room like you were searching for something. Your fingers twitched at your sides, your breathing uneven.

And then, as though pulled by an unseen thread, you turned and made your way toward the shared room. You hesitated at the door, casting a glance back at them, eyes uncertain, before stepping inside.

Remus followed quietly, stopping in the doorway as you approached Lily’s nest. He didn’t say anything, didn’t want to disturb whatever instinct was guiding you now. He only watched as you reached out, running your fingers over the soft blankets and pillows that made up Lily’s carefully crafted space.

You knelt down slowly, curling into the nest with a soft, content sigh, as though it was the only place you’d ever wanted to be. Lily covered her mouth with her hand, eyes glistening with unshed tears as she took in the sight of you nestled in her space. There was something unspoken between the two of you, something so deeply emotional that it made Remus’s throat tighten.

Of course. Of course, this was where you’d end up.

Was it really all that shocking? You had always been Lily’s girl. Always gravitated toward her warmth, her comfort. It made sense in a way that felt almost poetic, that your first heat would lead you to her nest, to the place where you felt safest.

Remus smiled softly to himself, heart aching with affection as he watched Lily crawl in beside you, wrapping her arms around you protectively. You sighed again, melting into her hold, and Remus knew- no matter how long it had taken, no matter how difficult it had been for you to get here- you were finally where you belonged.

[brasshighway-579]

James: a Laufey Songfic

Word Count: 1.4k

Summary: James Potter, your longtime crush, has asked you out! Great! Or… maybe not? Based on Laufey’s James, but with a happier ending.

Pics from Pinterest and divider by @cursed-carmine <3

Noticed you looking, sweetheart ;)

Do you like museums? The one in Hogsmeade is open late tonight. Or we can have a drink or two, no pressure. I’d like to learn about you.

~ James Potter

You felt as though your face had heated by about 100 degrees as you read the note that the James Potter had effortlessly floated to you, hitting the nail square on the head. You’d be lying if you said you hadn’t stared at him all semester- his brown hair, his glasses… he was truly perfect in every way, you thought. And on this random Tuesday, some divine spirit had decided it was your time: whether for something good or something horribly embarrassing? you weren’t sure yet.

To be honest, you weren’t even fully aware that James Potter knew who you were. You’d been partnered with his friend, Remus, on a few assignments, but you’d never had a conversation with Potter himself, and he was surely not lacking for female attention.

For a moment, though, you let yourself be hopeful. You smiled at James and nodded quickly, as he floated you over a second note that read, simply, I’ll meet you outside the Three Broomsticks at 7, then. On me.

You smiled again: your friends were surely never going to let you live down the fact that you were going on a date with Griffindor’s Golden Boy, mere days before your houses were set to play against one another in quidditch. You were determined, nonetheless, to let yourself enjoy it.

You made sure to arrive at 7:00 exactly, simply too nervous that being early or late would ruin your chance with the boy you’d been pining after for months. Luckily, true to his word, James was standing right outside that door, and his comfort in the cold weather suggested he hadn’t been waiting long. You smiled at him, and he waved excitedly at you.

“You look stunning,” he said, grinning, as he opened the door for you. “Are you much a butterbeer person? I’m happy to go get our order, if you’re ready.”

“Butterbeer sounds perfect, thank you,” you responded, pulling out a chair at a two person table and laying your coat across the back. “Thank you again, really.”

“It’s no trouble at all, promise. I’ll be right back with that,” he smiled before taking off to the bar.

While he ordered, you let yourself take a moment to process. It was absolutely unreal the number of girls in Hogwarts would hex for a chance at your position, and yet, here you were- a girl he didn’t really know, and yet was lucky enough to catch his attention. It did wonders for your confidence, that was for sure, feeling like a wave of Felix Felicus washing over you, relaxing your shoulders and jaw as he walked back.

“Thank you again,” you smiled gently as he set the butterbeer down in front of you.

“It’s really no trouble. Butterbeer’s probably my favorite treat of all time, I’d have to say. It always makes me feel relaxed after a quidditch game, or a hard exam.”

“You’re a very good quidditch player,” you complimented.

“Thanks,” James grinned. “I like to think so. It’s my absolute favorite, I love flying- not like potions, I despise potions, and anyways, isn’t the point of being a wizard to do wand work? I hardly see the point.”

You laughed then, at James’s ridiculous attitude towards your shared subject, but appreciating and nodding along to his commentary on the feeling and the freedom of flight.

You laughed then. By the end of the date, you didn’t find it so funny. Thirty minutes in, you began to wonder if his voice would ever get hoarse. Or, really, whether he ever got sick of himself. You felt as though you knew everything about him- his family, his friends, the things he hated, what he loved to see most in the great hall, how he felt that the Chudley Cannons were underprojected for the next season as potential winners: which was all very great, really, it was nice to learn about him.

The problem was you could count on 1 hand the number of things he had learned about you. Truly, you could count on zero hands the number of things he had learned about you, with the way you’d yet to get a word in.

Through gritted teeth, you finally said, “That’s great, James, really, but it’s getting a bit late. Maybe we should head back to the castle?” In all honesty, you knew not much time had passed, and your friends would hardly notice you’d been gone at this point, but you weren’t sure how much more of this you could bear.

“Oh, that’s a good point, yeah. I can walk you back, if you’d like?”

“Sure, James. I’d be ok with that,” you sighed, mentally preparing for 10 more minutes of the egotistical whirlwind that was James Potter’s thought process.

Sure enough, that’s what you got, as James prattled about what teams he thought he’d be scouted by next year.

“Not that it really matters, of course,” he added as he turned the corridor towards your house entrance. “I’ll be a millionaire regardless, won’t I?” He grinned again- that stupid, infuriating smirk, that just an hour ago had you melting.

“Yes, well, this is me. I’ve made it very safely and all, so you can… go. Goodnight, James. Thanks for the butterbeer.”

“Of course, goodnight, see you tomorrow!”

He waved feverishly again, as he had at the beginning of your date, and as you climbed the stairs to your dorm you thanked every saint you could think of that he hadn’t tried to kiss you.

“So, how’d it go, mate? Do you like her?” asked Remus, as James settled into bed that night.

“She’s great, honestly. She’s stunning, and so easy to talk to. I’m excited for the second date already- I can’t wait to learn all about her.”

Remus chuckled at that, unaccustomed to his friend’s surprising peace as he came into the room. Typically, after a date, James’s mouth was running at a hundred miles a minute, relaying every single detail until Sirius told him to ‘shut the fuck up before I shove my wand so far up your nose you won’t know where it’s gone’.

“What did you learn about her tonight, then?”, he asked with a smile, prompting discussion.

“Hm? Oh, truthfully, she was very quiet, but that’s what a second date is for, isn’t it?”

Remus’s brows furrowed together as he took in James’s words. “Right. And… what did she learn about you?”

James rattled off several of the things he had shared with you, oblivious to the growing shock in his friend’s eyes and the grit of his teeth as he reached the half way point of his list- nearly two minutes later.

“James,” Remus said shortly, cutting him off. “Do you… honestly think there will be a second date?”

James laughed. “There’s always a second date, silly. Why wouldn’t there be?”

Remus sighed. “Maybe because she was right pissed off with you? I wouldn’t go on a second date with a guy who didn't let me talk, James.”

“It’s not that I didn’t let her talk, it’s just that she didn’t talk, and I didn’t want it to be awkward, so I just kept going and- oh my god. She hates me for sure. Shit, I need to learn how to shut up, Sirius is right, what do I do-”

“Well, firstly,” Remus interjected, “you stop spiraling. And then you send her a letter apologizing for being an idiot so that you can look her in the eyes tomorrow.”

“Right. Ok.”

As you finally settled into bed after recounting the horror of your date with your best friend, the unmistakable tap of an owl’s talon hit against the glass of your window. Opening it, you carefully untied the parchment it carried, reading its contents and laughing quietly to yourself.

Upon further consideration, I have realized that I am the biggest idiot to grace the halls of Hogwarts. While I completely understand if you never want to talk to me again (as you likely had enough of that for one lifetime), I would love to meet you again and get to know you: for real, this time. Maybe we just don’t count this one?

I’ll bring duct tape, if you like. You can slap it over my mouth yourself and I won’t complain.

~ James Potter

[fleurisole]

Secret Admirer / Regulus Black

Summary: Regulus had always harbored a soft spot for a particular member of the Potter family. This individual stood in stark contrast to James, and being a Slytherin only seemed to fuel Regulus's obsession with the sibling who exuded a delicate scent of orchids.

P.S : English isn't my first language, so I apologize for any minor grammar errors. Enjoy!

Regulus had no intention in falling in love. Or was it all in his head? 

God forbid he would need an excuse to glance in your direction or steal a look every now and then. The young man wasn't about to let you slip out of his sight so effortlessly. First, he had to admire every inch of your body, from head to toe. You were now his target, his prey.

He was well aware that this endeavor wouldn't be a simple one, especially considering you were the notorious sibling of James Potter himself.

Understanding your brother's protective nature, being associated with the Potter name wasn't exactly favorable, particularly from an ethical standpoint. Being a Slytherin only intensified matters, as it made you a target for Dark Wizards, much to James' dismay. For Regulus, this meant that even initiating a conversation with you posed a significant challenge.

Regulus remembered the very first time he had met you. Like every love cliché stories, it was during your first day at Hogwarts when your brother had been the light of everyone interest and Regulus had the chance to see your beautiful face exit the train and your hair seemingly blending itself with the wind. It was in that very moment that Regulus knew what falling in love was like. 

Being a Black meant enduring Sirius's teasing at his whim, and with his family's significant legacy, observing his close rapport with the Potters, one might have considered themselves fortunate to easily encounter you during Potions class. You were slightly smaller than your brother, inviting mockery from him and his friends when reaching for higher objects, coupled with a persistent plea until the class's final moments. However, one time, Regulus seized the opportunity to intercept them before you. It was also the moment when both of you heard each other's voices. Your small “Thank you” and the smile you bestowed upon him were enough to stir butterflies in his stomach, followed by inevitable teasing from Sirius later that evening, as it became evident that your brother's attention was on the two of you. 

After the initial encounter between Regulus and you in Potions class, James couldn't help but notice you two’s interactions. To his surprise, he found himself growing increasingly concerned as rumors circulated about Regulus's association with the Death Eaters, and perhaps even darker affiliations. As your brother, naturally, he wanted the best for you, but witnessing the potential dangers of Slytherin influence, it pained him to imagine you being ensnared by such influences. Little did he know, he was mistaken from the outset. 

Regulus was undeniably a good person, a fact known to everyone. Yet, there was something about him that intrigued you even more. You couldn't help but notice from the outset the subtle glances he stole in your direction during class. Your friends occasionally teased about someone showing interest in you, but you couldn't bring yourself to believe it, especially with your brother's constant reminders about keeping your distance from men, especially Slytherins like Regulus. Despite all this, Regulus was keenly aware that you were conscious of his attention towards you.

Despite your efforts to maintain complete innocence regarding your brother's request, you couldn't deny the temptation or the inevitable encounter with Regulus. Which meant, he couldn't resist drawing your full attention to him, resorting to leaving notes in specific places where you frequented. With his signature R.A.B.

As a result, you couldn't help but become somewhat frantic, eager to uncover the identity of your secret admirer. This lead to an interesting investigation between the two of you. 

This though first was brought up during lunch at the Dinning Hall. While he was away in his book, he couldn’t help but to notice and hear clearly his name being whispered from your own mouth. From this very moment, he couldn’t stop but to think— think about the endless dreams longing to hear your voice murmuring his name, begging to hear it, before it vanishes in echoes completely. How he would hold your hand seemingly, wondering off away from Hogsmeade to deep in the forbidden forest to admire the beautiful beasts you long wanted to discover amidst admitting it during class one time. Something he had not forget and it was these little details Regulus made sure of when the possibility of a real encounter. 

The encounter unfolded within the confines of the Library. As you embarked on your quest to locate a book recommended by your teacher, one that aligned with your fascination for magical beasts, fortune smiled upon you as remnants of the coveted tome remained available. Despite its widespread popularity for research purposes. Your satisfaction was tinged with frustration as the book eluded your grasp, just beyond your reach. Regulus, perhaps guided by destiny, seized the opportunity to intersect your paths. As he reached for the book he sought, a familiar fragrance enveloping him—the scent of fresh orchids that had captivated him since your initial meeting. “Perhaps a little assistance is in order.” He remarked, his voice resonating with familiarity, reminiscent of your encounters in Potion class.

However, on this occasion, instead of flashing your customary smile, your eyes widened in surprise at the unexpected presence of the boy who might be your clandestine paramour. Despite the initial shock, you swiftly pushed aside such thoughts and donned your smile. Yet, your cheeks betrayed a different sentiment, flushing with warmth at the tender touch of his cold yet inviting fingers intertwining with yours. It had been an eternity since you had been in such close proximity to Regulus. Despite your inner turmoil and unspoken desires, you couldn't deny the longing for his company, and the warmth of his attentiveness towards you.

“Thank you…” Your voice, gentle and familiar, whispered to his ear, betraying your unmistakable affection for him. Regulus returned your smile with confidence, yet beneath the facade, a sly smirk danced across his lips as he handed you the book, placing it securely in your grasp. With a casual glance at the title, he feigned surprise, though inwardly he had anticipated your newfound research interest. “A fan of magical beasts as well?” He inquired, his tone softened, a deliberate effort to win the approval of your brother, something he knew he must secure to further his intentions.

“Yes.” You affirmed, though the realization of once again finding yourselves drawn together in such close quarters was a surprise even to you. Despite the shared space, your presence seemed merely a distraction to him, your brother's attention firmly fixed on Lily Evans. Nonetheless, Regulus seized every chance to revel in the pleasure of your company, carving out moments for just the two of you. The burgeoning attraction between you was becoming increasingly apparent. “Looks like we always meet in times when I am deed.” You confessed, acknowledging the truth of your words, yet Regulus finding this statement to be nearly impossible to resist the allure of such intense desire, passion. And intimacy with a man who embodied all these qualities. 

As tempted as you were to acknowledge those thoughts, and even to acknowledge Regulus's correctness, you merely shrugged with feigned innocence. It was a quality that had captivated Regulus from the moment he first laid eyes on you. He longed to possess you entirely, to the extent that he would endure your brother's fury or the sight of the Potter girl tangled in Slytherin affairs. Regardless, his sole focus was to ensure that you belonged to him and him alone. 

And much to his liking, James being in the same room just a few tables from afar your study had take knowledge of Regulus’s presence. How his thumb would be casually caressing your chin and lifting up slightly to have a the opportunity to feel his lips against yours. Just this once, and perhaps even more. 

“You know…” His voice deepened, his warm breath grazing against your skin. In that moment, you realized you had been momentarily blinded by his actions, yet a stirring within you suggested that perhaps, like him, you were in love. In love with a man who sought justice and, undoubtedly, someone to cherish—a person with whom he could find solace and belonging. Regardless of your brother's approval, he remained unconcerned. “A little bird informed me that you've been receiving letters from a secret admirer. I couldn't help but be curious about their identity.” He confessed, his tone betraying a mix of intrigue and oblivious.

His voice, smooth as butter, dripped with both passion and curiosity, eager to uncover whether you knew the identity behind the mysterious letters. Despite harboring your own suspicions, you simply shrugged, a casual yet teasing smile playing on your lips. As he reciprocated with a gentle touch, his thumb grazing your chin, you sensed the tension radiating from your brother, torn between throwing a punch or holding back. Simultaneously, you were aware of your brother's intense gaze fixed upon you, even though your back was turned to him. In that moment, it was clear that he faced a choice: intervene or allow Regulus to kiss you.

“Don't,” Sirius mouthed the words silently, fully aware of Regulus's capabilities. If there was one thing he couldn't deny about his family’s qualities, it was the sincerity of Regulus’s feelings and intentions, especially when it came to the person he loved. Despite the complex dynamics between the Blacks and the Potters, whether as friends or foes, James couldn't bear to witness his sibling's sadness and envy once more. And so, with a resigned sigh, he chose to let it be. “Fine, but if he dares to break her heart. I won’t hesitate.”

As Regulus observed your eyes flickering from his gaze to his lips, he sensed a spark igniting between you. The way he spoke to you, the words conveyed on paper—it all pointed to one undeniable truth: your secret lover was none other than Regulus himself. A delicate smile accompanied by a soft chuckle escaped your lips, leaving Regulus slightly bewildered, prompting him to tilt his head in curiosity. “Though I may want to play the part of the suspicious and oblivious recipient of secret admirer letters, I believe I've unraveled the mystery.” You confessed with a hint of amusement.

Your confession alone was convincing, but it was Regulus's sigh that truly affirmed the man standing before you. He was undeniably your secret lover, unafraid to show his affection openly, even in the presence of your own brother. Regardless of family legacy or expectations, he cared not. As he drew near, the library eerily empty, his eyes never straying from yours, you felt the gentle brush of his lips before they melded into a long-awaited kiss—a kiss you both had yearned for, dreamed of, and finally shared.

Before you could even catch your breath, your fingers tenderly cupped his face, softly stroking his cheeks as he savored every moment of affection, his eyelids drifting shut. Then, your voice, sweet and longing, broke the silence. “Kiss me. Forever.”

Without hesitation, Regulus complied, pressing his lips to yours once again, unwilling to pull away until he sensed your brother's disdainful gaze. From that day forward, you became Regulus's other half, bound together by love and defiance.

[hellootitty]

DAMNED TO LOVING YOU

In which; Sirius Black gets framed for the murder of his best friends, James and Lily. Amidst the chaos of his wrongful conviction, a shared promise between Sirius, Y/N, and Remus sets the stage for a tragic fight for survival.

(inspired by the song “damned” by miguel)

DTLY (1) (2) (3)

husband!sirius black x reader

author notes: no wolfstar here sorryy guys. i tried my best to make it angsty😞, fuck peter pettigrew and voldy, justice 4 sirius forreal. anyways, hope ya’ll enjoy this<3

1.5k+ words

The suffocating atmosphere of Courtroom Ten presses down on you, the heavy, dark stone walls sealing out any remnant of the world above.

Up in the tiered gallery, you are a solitary figure of grief, your voice cutting through the self-righteous murmurs of the Wizengamot.

"He didn't do it!" you scream, your voice cracking, raw and desperate as you lean dangerously far over the cold iron railing.

Tears track hot and fast down your face, blurring the sea of plum-colored robes below.

"You aren't listening! He loved them! He would have died for James and Lily! He is innocent, you fools, look at him!"

The agonizing weight of double grief threatens to crush you completely.

James and Lily, your best friends, the bright lights of your circle, the ones who had held your hand through the terrifying, secret-filled war, were gone.

Murdered.

And now, the ministry was trying to take the final piece of your heart left alive.

Beside you, Remus Lupin wraps his arms tightly around your shoulders, anchoring you to his chest.

His grip is desperate, a lifeline in the wreckage, but he is shaking just as violently as you are.

The loss of James, Lily, and Peter has hollowed him out, leaving him pale and fragile, yet he holds you with everything he has left.

"He didn't do it, Remus, tell them!" you sob on his chest, thrashing weakly against his hold, your hands clawing at the railing. "Tell them it's a mistake!"

Down on the courtroom floor, Barty Crouch Sr. glares up at the gallery, his face twisting with immense irritation at the disruption.

He slams his hand flat onto his desk, his voice booming across the stone chamber.

"Silence in the gallery, girl!" Crouch thunders, his eyes flashing with bureaucratic malice.

"Control your companion, center rows, or you will be forcibly removed from these proceedings at once! Be quiet!" he says while glancing at Remus.

The harsh, demanding words ring out, drawing the judgmental eyes of the entire room toward you.

Remus pulls you back just an inch, his grip tightening protectively as he murmurs brokenly against your ear, "Shh, I've got you dove, I've got you... please, breathe..."

BANG

The heavy wood of the gavel hits the stand, sounding like a gunshot in the cavernous room.

"Sirius Orion Black," Crouch’s voice booms, cutting through the murmurs like a dull blade.

"For the murder of James and Lily Potter, and twelve Muggles... you are hereby sentenced to life imprisonment in Azkaban."

Just days ago, the world was whole.

Now, James and Lily are gone, and the blame has been pinned entirely on the man who loved them fiercely enough to die for them.

The betrayal of Peter's true allegiance hangs over Sirius like a shroud, a truth no one else wants to hear.

To the world, Sirius Black is a monster.

To you, he is the only anchor left in a universe that has completely collapsed.

As the noise of the courtroom rises, whispers of "traitor," "Azkaban," and "murderer." Sirius holds your gaze.

A bitter, heartbreaking smile touches his cracked lips.

He always hated his family's fixation on the stars and hated his own name, but right now, he is cursing the very sky for trapping him in this nightmare.

Yet, as he looks at you, his eyes soften.

No matter how high the Ministry builds its walls to lock him away, his mind will always return to you. The memory of you is his sanctuary, his favorite vice, the only thing keeping him tethered to his humanity.

The word triggers an explosion of noise, triumphant jeers from the spectators, the shuffling of papers, and the heavy, armored footsteps of the Ministry guards moving in to secure the prisoner.

They unhook the heavy chains from the chair, grabbing Sirius roughly by his upper arms to drag him toward the dark exit.

But something in Sirius snaps.

Hearing your desperate struggle, seeing you completely unravel for his sake, ignites a sudden, violent burst of the old, untamable Marauder magic inside him.

With a guttural roar, Sirius wrenches his right arm free, slamming his elbow back into the nose of the first guard.

The crack of bone echoes.

He kicks out wildly, catching the second guard in the knee, sending the man crashing to the stone floor.

"Y/N!" Remus chokes out as he is forced to let go of you when you scramble down the steep stone stairs of the gallery, entirely unheeding of the Aurors drawing their wands.

Sirius doesn't run for the doors.

He doesn't try to escape the Ministry.

He runs straight for the stairs.

He lunges upward, meeting you halfway on the narrow stone landing just as two more guards grab the trailing ends of his tattered robes, trying to anchor him down.

Sirius ignores them.

He reaches through the chaos, his large, rough hands instantly finding your face.

His skin is freezing, smelling of rain, copper, and the musty dampness of a holding cell, but his touch is incredibly tender.

He pulls you in fiercely, burying his face against yours.

He presses his forehead hard against yours, his breath shuddering, hot and uneven.

For a fraction of a second, the screaming courtroom, the wands pointed at his back, and the impending horror of the Dementors completely vanish.

There is only the agonizing, grounded reality of you.

"Listen to me," he gasps, his gray eyes burning into yours with a terrifying, absolute clarity.

His lips brush against yours as he speaks, a desperate, breathless friction. "Let them say it. Let them believe it. But you don't look away from me. You hold onto who we are."

"I'll get you out," you weep, your hands clutching the front of his torn shirt, trying to pull him closer, trying to shield him with your own body as the guards violently yank at his waist. "Sirius, please, I know it wasn't you; I'll make them listen—"

"No, look at me," he commands softly, his voice dropping to a raw, aching register that cuts straight through your panic.

He leans in, pressing his lips firmly, deeply against yours.

It's a kiss tasted through salt and despair, a breathless, bruising imprint of his soul onto yours.

When he pulls back just an inch, his eyes are wide, glassy with unshed tears, completely stripped of his usual defensive arrogance.

"You are the only part of this world that ever made sense to me," he whispers, his voice trembling with a profound, aching weight that goes far deeper than a simple I love you.

"They can take everything else. They can burn my name, they can rot my body, they can steal every happy memory I have. But they cannot change the fact that I am entirely yours. In this life, or whatever hell comes next, I belong to you. Remember that. Promise me you'll remember."

You stay quiet, not able to get a single word out of you, tears just continuously spilling from your eyes.

He grips your shoulders, his gaze dropping to your trembling lips.

"It's going to be okay, my love" Sirius tells you fiercely, his voice cracking.

"I love you Y/N. I love you so much, and our beautiful baby girl. She needs you now. You have to be there for her, you have to be strong for her, sweetheart. Do you hear me?"

You nod blindly against his chest, “I will, just for you. My heart is forever yours, Siri.” your tears soaking his robes.

Sirius looks up, his gray eyes crashing into Remus's amber ones.

Remus has finally caught up, standing directly behind you, a protective barrier.

The air between the three remaining Marauders grows heavy with a sudden, tragic clarity.

Sirius doesn't even need to plead.

Remus sees the truth in his brother's eyes, the agonizing realization that it was Peter all along.

Remus's jaw tightens, a mutual understanding sealing between them in a split second.

"Moony." Sirius says, his voice thick with unvoiced tears. "Harry, and my girls."

Remus nods once, a sharp, unyielding movement. "I know, Pads. I've got them. Always."

Sirius holds his gaze, a desperate fire igniting in his eyes. "I will get out of here. I swear it."

"I know," Remus whispers back.

“Sirius-” You begin to say but ultimately get interrupted.

The guards throw their full weight into him.

A heavy stunning spell narrowly misses your shoulder, scorching the stone wall beside you as Remus pushes you by your arm to the other side.

With a brutal wrench, three Aurors drag him backward, forcing his arms behind his back and snapping magical dampening cuffs over his wrists.

Sirius doesn't fight them anymore.

The manic strength is gone, replaced by a fierce, quiet peace.

As they drag him down the stairs toward the black doors, his eyes never leave yours.

He walks backward, a ghost already, but his gaze is a promise.

Your knees give out, a broken, breathless gasp escaping your lips as you collapse onto the cold stone steps.

You are completely unraveled by the grief of losing James, Lily, and now your husband.

But before you can hit the cold floor, Remus's arms are around you again.

He pulls you tightly against his chest, dropping to his knees beside you on the stairs, holding you together as you weep violently into his shoulder.

He buries his face in your hair, his own shoulders shaking with silent, devastating grief, anchoring you in the wreckage of your world.

The heavy doors slam shut, locking Sirius into the dark.

But in the quiet, suffocating aftermath, his words hang in the air like an unbreakable vow.

He is damned by the world, but he is eternally yours.

[diorrgrl]

Harry Potter Characters Fic Recommendations p.2 <3

*for smut

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