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lushaletta · 10 months

Text

paparazzi / remus lupin

pairing: remus lupin x fem!reader

warnings: none

summary: kissing remus backstage before his show.

a/n: OH MY GOD?!! HELLO?? bro. it’s been too long. writer’s block is wiiiiild. anyway. here’s some rockstar!remus self-indulgent fluff as my apology.

⋆ ࣪. ⁺⑅ ⋰˚ *.ﾟ .˳⁺⁎˚ ˚⁎⁺˳ . ༺ ˖࣪ ˖࣪ ∗

You’d been a secret.

Though, you’d grown accustomed to having to tiptoe around the set, stealing glances and smiles.

So this? Wrong. Dangerous. Careless.

You’re wearing your darkest shade of red lipstick, and there are already stains on his collar from your makeup. Paparazzi would never let it go.

“Remus—“ A kiss. “I—“ Another. “They’ll see us.”

He finally pulls away, letting you breathe for more than a second. “Maybe they will.”

You laugh. “In case you’ve forgotten, you’re going to be performing in…” You glance at his watch, “7 minutes.”

“I haven’t forgotten anything, sweetheart.”

“So we should really—“ He decides that if he can’t kiss your lips, your neck will have to suffice. It’s just as distracting, if not more so. “You should be.. backstage.”

You look up at Remus, and there’s a quirk in his brow. “I am backstage.”

“You know what I mean.”

He does know what you mean, but he takes pleasure in your frustration, apparently.

“Remus.”

Putting his hands up in concession, “Two minutes, darling. Two minutes.”

It’s absurd how quickly you nod. Two minutes couldn’t possibly harm anyone. He grabs your face, planting kisses on your nose, your lips, your cheeks, and it’s all too much and not enough at the same time.

“So pretty,” he whispers, tucking your hair behind your ears.

“You’re one to talk.”

He laughs, a sweet sound. “You only think so because I’m covered in your lipstick, Miss Possessive.”

Remus was right, for the most part. You found him pretty all the time, but he looked especially good when it was evident he was yours; something not so common when your relationship was a secret from the public.

“You should wipe that off,” you say, not quite wanting him to.

“Later, honey.”

He places a final kiss on your forehead before retreating to the stage, face and clothes ruined by your make-up.

#🎞 by.ivy #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter imagine #hp imagine #harry potter oneshot #marauders #marauders fanfiction #marauders oneshot #remus x you #remus lupin fanfiction #remus lupin x reader #rockstar remus

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lushaletta · 7 days

Note

could I request some tom fluff pls? I feel like there’s none on the internet, tyy 🌸💗

a/n: short lil blurb for this one, tysm for requesting <3

“Tom,” you say gravely.

He looks up from his work, a rare occurrence. “Yes?”

You take a deep breath and in totally honesty, he’s preparing for the worst. You’re breaking up with him. Or you’re dying before he’s even figured out how to make that impossible. Or, god forbid, you’ve found another man. He shudders at the mere thought.

“Would you..” your voice is shaky. “Would you still love me if I were a worm?” You say it like you’re genuinely worried.

A sense of relief washes over his entire body before it turns into exasperation. “What?”

“Well, would you?”

The pure insanity of the question has him almost laughing. “That’s ridiculous.”

You huff, wiggling a little from where you’re sat on his bed. “That’s not an answer!”

Tom has zero idea how to respond. Should he take into consideration the logistics of the matter? He sighs. “Are you a sentient worm in this hypothetical?”

You grin. “Mhm! I’m just me, but.. worm.”

It takes a beat before he says anything else. He’s pondering.

“Yes.”

“Yes what?”

He clears his throat uncomfortably, eyes looking everywhere but at you. “I would continue to love you if you were a worm.”

You erupt into laughter and leap onto him, trapping him in a hug he could easily escape, but doesn’t. “‘Continue to!’ So you do love me!”

“I think I have made that clear.”

#🎞 by.ivy #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter imagine #hp imagine #harry potter oneshot #tom riddle x you #tom riddle x y/n #tom riddle imagine #tom riddle x reader #tom riddle fanfiction #tom marvolo riddle #tom riddle #tom riddle fluff #tom riddle x reader fluff #tom riddle blurb #tom riddle drabble

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lushaletta · 19 days

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the lamb and her wolf / tom riddle

pairing: tom riddle x fem!reader

content: muggleborn!reader, tom is goin a lil mad

summary: have you fallen into the dark lord’s trap, or has he fallen into yours?

a/n: i wrote this at 4 in the morning so enjoy this stream of consciousness grumpy x sunshine esque tom riddle fanfiction or something.

⋆ ࣪. ⁺⑅ ⋰˚ *.ﾟ .˳⁺⁎˚ ˚⁎⁺˳ . ༺ ˖࣪ ˖࣪ ∗

Tom is in a frenzy of sorts, he’s concluded.

Perhaps it is the sleepless nights and stressful days that cloud his weeks that are causing the weird feeling in his chest. Insomnia-induced hysteria.

There’s a flurry of thoughts swirling around his head recently. All with a common theme; you. The space in his brain that he typically reserved for Ancient Runes or Arithmancy was now composed of you, you, and only you.

It makes him sick to his stomach.

He’s unfocused. And he can’t be, because he’s supposed to be working on the secret that Salazar Slytherin hid in the deep crevices of Hogwarts some years ago.

His fingers tap on the book that he can’t seem to pay attention to as he tries to make sense of this. The disgusting, awful, pleasant fondness he feels for you. For a Muggleborn girl no less.

The only solution to his problem is to kill you. It wouldn’t be hard, he thinks. You’re small and meek and all too trusting of him. Like a lamb to the slaughter.

You are a symbol of everything he despises. Joy. Innocence. You are of the same kind as his worthless father. So why is it that he can’t bring himself to end you? To end your time together? He’s done it before. He’s done it plenty of times and without a second thought.

“Tom!” your horrible, beautiful voice cheers, snapping him out of his thoughts. Oh, great, he thinks. You plague his mind and now you bedevil his reality.

“Hello,” he says after a beat.

You ignore his bothered expression and smile. “I’ve brought snacks! You do like mince pie, don’t you?” He nods weakly. “Good, because my mam’s had some sent. She’s trying out a new recipe. Secret ingredient or something like that. I’m sure you haven’t eaten yet, with your inane study habits, I mean, do you ever have breaks?” You ramble on and he listens with fascination. How could you be talking to him so casually? So endearingly?

You’re far from done. “It doesn’t matter, though. You’ll have a break now. Go on, put your book away, would you?” He does as told. He’s not sure why. You take a seat at his table, fumbling with the paper bag you’ve brought. “Aha! Mince pie! One for each of us. Tell me if you like it, I’ll have Mam send some more. She’d be delighted.”

It’s at this point, where he’s chewing on warm minced pie and watching you do the same, nodding contentedly, that he wonders which life decisions he’d made led up to this. He’s the Dark Lord. A name that the world will soon fear. If all goes to plan, you’ll be reading in terror of all the vile things he’s done in the paper. You’ll be afraid of him, and he can’t help dread it. He dreads the thought of your heartbroken eyes as you realise what a wicked person you’d extended your kindness to.

It’s the frenzy again. What is he even thinking? He dreaded nothing. He looked at his plans with excitement.

“Tom? Hellooo,” you say, singsongingly. He didn’t even realise you’d been speaking. He glances up at you and imagines what you’d think of him once the truth comes out.

“Yes?”

“What do you think? About the pie, I mean.”

He clears his throat, fingers gripping the armrest of his seat. “Good. It’s good.” That draws another pretty smile out of you and he really hates the way it made him feel. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome! Also, Tommy,” He quirks his brow. The nickname was a slip of the tongue. You’d never used it and it made you nervous, but he didn’t seem to mind so much. “Are you busy later? I need some help with Transfiguration.”

He’s always busy. Well, he should be. He’s been slacking recently, too preoccupied with your freshly baked desserts and strawberry-smelling hair.

“I could make time for that,” he says decidedly.

Idiot. Idiot, idiot, idiot.

You’re immediately on your feet, giddy like how he’d imagine a child to be upon receiving candy. “Thank you! Oh, you’re a lifesaver, truly!” you say, and suddenly a kiss is planted on his cheek.

A full stop. His world pauses and spins on its axis. Your lips felt good. Bad.

What an evil, evil wolf he was.

#🎞 by.ivy #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter imagine #hp imagine #tom riddle #tom riddle fanfiction #tom riddle imagine #tom riddle x reader #tom riddle x you #tom riddle x y/n #tom marvolo riddle

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lushaletta · 23 days

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2:19 / remus lupin

remus is looking at you very lovingly. it’s almost as if he doesn’t want to look at anything else.

you indulge him, crawling into his lap and taking a seat like it’s yours.

“you’re killing me,” he mutters, knowing full well this is what he lives for.

your arms lace around his neck, your soft skin grazing upon his stubble. “maybe that’s been my plan all along, lupin.”

he’s had a hard day. one inconvenience after the other stacked on top of the other disasters that he calls his everyday.

it’s so hilariously tragic, his life, they’ve all turned away from him and he’s so close to letting you go from the thought you’ll end up like the rest.

but you smile, you bat your eyelashes,

and you’re the only thing he sees.

#🎞 by.ivy #two posts in one day am i on a roll or what #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter imagine #hp imagine #harry potter oneshot #marauders fanfiction #marauders oneshot #remus lupin x reader #remus fluff #remus lupin imagine #remus lupin fanfiction #remus x you #remus lupin #remus lupin x y/n #remus lupin blurb #marauders blurb

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lushaletta · 3 days

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the dark lord and his distraction / tom riddle

pairing: tom riddle x fem!reader

content: muggleborn!reader, swearing

summary: you distract tom from his plans. and he hates it.

a/n: this is my pt. 2 to the lamb and her wolf! idk if i like this but i kinda do but Arghh idk. there will prob be a part 3. love u guys!

read part one here!

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“Hello!” you chirp, skipping over, books in hand.

Tom’s not looking for company. In fact, he was actively avoiding it. He couldn’t continue to be distracted by you. He had work to be done, meetings to be held. But he’s a weak man recently. “Hello.”

You set your things down and lace your arms around his neck suddenly. He’s absolutely horrified. “Thank you for your help studying, Tommy, I’ve passed my exam with full marks!”

He clears his throat and you leave a patch of goosebumps in your wake. “You’re welcome,” he drawls. “You wouldn’t have to spend so much extra time revising if you’d only paid attention in class.”

Tom knows you’re merely a distraction, an inconvenience to be ignored. Deadweight to his plans. You’d be a mistake. It’s obvious what he should do. He should send you off on your merry way and end whatever friendship has blossomed between you, so you at least have a chance at living. For someone so obsessed with immortality, Tom knew he was a dead man the moment you strut into his life, all smiles and Mary Jane’s. But he’s selfish, and so you were dead right with him, that very minute.

He doesn’t like anything you bring. He doesn’t like the reactions you elicit from calling him Tommy and he doesn’t like how you make him happy. Or hopeful. There is no hope for him. He’s destined to live a half-life and he doesn’t like that he wants to make you live that life too.

And you’re not entirely stupid. You know there’s something strange about him and that’s exactly why you come every day with your books and snacks. You’re curious. He’s haunting— a concoction of allure and fear and it’s all but enticing. “Well, who wants to do that? You’re a far better teacher.”

His face casts the ghost of a smile. “Don’t you have chess club in 15 minutes?”

“Yeah. I’ll be there,” you say, easily. Then the realisation dawns on you: You’ve never given him your schedule. “Wait a second,” you laugh. “How do you know that?”

He holds an even tone. “Not hard to guess.”

You blink. Change the topic. “You’re very pretty, you know?”

His knees almost give out and he’s seated comfortably on a chair. “Thank you,” he whispers, trying hard not to sound surprised. He’s not unaware of his good looks, but how anyone could be so casual about it is beyond him.

You’re an aberration, he thinks. No, he’s sure. You write notes in the margins of his textbooks and fall asleep on his shoulder. And when you do so, you let out the cutest little snores and purr. Like a fucking kitten. It drives him to insanity and even deeper into his spiral.

“No, like, you are super pretty. It’s kind of otherworldly.”

He’s not too sure what to say. He’s never rendered speechless by anyone, but fuck, you’re his exception to just about everything. Instead, he stiffens and breathes out a small, “That’s kind.”

Your cheeks dimple and Tom swears he sees his future. But that’s crazy. He has to remember who you are and hell, who he is. He’s the Dark Lord, evil, no matter how you see him in that pretty head of yours. And you’re a filthy Mudblood.

It’s been two days and he hasn’t seen you anywhere. He’s starting to think there *is* no cure to his hysteria because he acts crazy in both your presence and absence. He thinks about you too much in both. He’s looked everywhere; in all your classes and even your dorm that he’s managed to find.

He’s about giving up. There is no point because you’re meant to be temporary.

“Hi,” you say, breathlessly as you appear behind him, startling him into oblivion. He’s a skilled Legilimens so he should’ve heard your thoughts as you creeped up, but he was too busy with his own about you.

He conceals his relief and narrows his eyes. “You have been gone.”

You look a little disheveled but beautiful as ever. Tom doesn’t sweat, but it feels like he’s going to. “Family stuff. You know how it goes!”

Tom doesn’t know how it goes. He’s used to abandonment and lonely holidays. He doesn’t know how it goes but he knows how it feels to dread the Christmases and Easters and summers because all he can look forward to is disappointment.

He winces. You notice and cringe. You don’t know much about his family but judging by that reaction, it’s no good. “Mm,” he manages. It’s silence for a bit. Comfortable silence. He’s secretly relishing in your company. “I didn’t like it when you were gone.”

What a fucking tool.

The corners of your lips curl into a soft grin. “You are adorable!” you giggle. He’s mortified.

You haven’t really told any of your friends about your blooming acquaintanceship with Tom Riddle. After all, he’s not really known for his friendliness. But you trust Camilla. And you’ve used up the last of your excuses for bailing on meals to study with him.

“Riddle. Are you joking me?”

Your eyebrows quirk up. “No. He’s a breath of fresh air from the Hogwarts hustle. Not much of a talker though. I do most of that.”

She smiles a little like it’s expected of you but it fades once she refocuses. “He doesn’t like us Muggleborns, you know.”

“That’s silly.”

“Only true. I heard Mulciber whispering about it. Like, they really don’t like us. No wonder he’s such a git towards me in class.”

“Have you ever actually spoken to Tom, though?” You fold your arms over your chest. You’re not too sure why you’re being defensive.

“Well, no—“

“That’s what I thought! You don’t give people chances, Camilla. You rely on gossip to fuel your opinions,” you spit.

Camilla puts her hands up in surrender and starts talking about the cute Ravenclaw boy she’s planning to ask out.

“Oh! And I think Murphy fancies you! He asked me to ask you how you felt about him.”

You thought about him for a moment. He’s nothing special but he’s attractive and you’re honestly willing to give it a shot.

Tom is fuming, hearing what you think. Listening from around the corner and it’s creepy and borderline stalker-ish but he’s begun to feel a strange protectiveness over you. Frenzy and all that.

So, yes. You’re merely a distraction, an inconvenience to be ignored. Deadweight to his plans. But… you were a desire. A selfish, greedy desire.

And Tom always gets what he wants.

taglist for this series! @helalokithor @mli345 (can’t find ur blog so sorry!!) lmk if u want to be added!

#🎞 by.ivy #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter imagine #hp imagine #tom riddle blurb #tom riddle x reader fluff #tom riddle fluff #tom riddle x you #tom riddle x y/n #tom riddle imagine #tom riddle x reader #tom riddle fanfiction #tom marvolo riddle #tom riddle #tom riddle drabble #tom riddle angst

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lushaletta · 23 days

Note

I have a question??? Could you do Fred Weasley x older sister Potter reader who's he's friends with and like headcanons of their relationship please and thank you

in good hands / fred weasley

pairing: fred weasley x fem!reader

content: mild swearing, older sister potter!reader

summary: being harry potter’s older sister is difficult. you hate watching your little brother get hurt both physically and emotionally, but fred happens to be a great protector.

a/n: MY FRED WEASLEY DEBUT!! george is my fav but fred is so arghghghgh hot. anywayyyy tysm for this request and i’m sorry i didn’t follow it to a t!! i was originally gonna do headcanons as requested but i kinda got in the zone… i do kinda like this pairing though so i may end up doing hcs eventually anyway! also my bad for this taking FOREVER i’ve been madly busy… love u folks

⋆ ࣪. ⁺⑅ ⋰˚ *.ﾟ .˳⁺⁎˚ ˚⁎⁺˳ . ༺ ˖࣪ ˖࣪ ∗

Harry comes running into your room, soaked with both rain water and agitation. His broom is immediately tossed to the side and you can’t help but be concerned— you have a feeling you know what this is going to be about, and it’s not the first time.

“Harry?”

“So sick of it! I only try to help, you know? To make things better and no one ever gives a fuck! No gratitude or even kindness, after everything I’ve done.” Your face softens as he inches towards you, even being careful not to get your bed wet with his clothing.

“They’re still mad at you for losing the game? Are you serious?” You’re completely furious. Harry’s had the world on his shoulders since forever and his entire life is a tragedy. He can’t even play a school sport without being reamed for something that’s hardly his fault.

Peeling his jersey off, he crawls into your side and waits for your affection; the only thing he can count on when the world isn’t on his side.

“I tried to fix things, you know? Told Fletcher I was sorry but they’re still pissed, calling me a freak and saying all this crap about Voldemort.” You shush him and cradle his face in your arms. Your heart is breaking because how could anyone treat your baby brother like this, how could anyone see him as something less than precious?

His eyes shimmer but not with the sparkle of joy. They’re teary. “Fuck ‘em all. They’ll come around, Harry. They do eventually.”

It’s not fair what they do to him. He’ll mess something up and half the time it’s out of his control, and suddenly he’s public enemy number one. You’re usually there to help, and so are his friends like Hermione and Ron, but it can’t always be like this.

He’s okay after a while. You amp up the jokes and ruffle his hair and he’s okay. He has dinner with his group and you with yours. It’s a nice evening and all you can do is hope he’s forgetting everything wrong with the world. It seems like he is, because he’s tossing peanuts in the air and catching them in his mouth while Ron is laughing hysterically and Hermione is resting her hand on a judgemental expression.

“Oi, Weasley!” you say, and Fred whips his head towards you. “I’ve got something to ask. A favour.”

He perks up. You were asking him for a favour. He’s been waiting for his in since forever, but he wouldn’t let you know that. “Yeah?” he replies, taking a sip of pumpkin juice.

A quick breath escapes your lips as you lean on him, lashes fluttering and a little grin settled on your face. He can look at you trying to be all persuasive without blushing. He’s stronger than this.

“How about.. you and George look after Harry? I’ve been worried about him, with the whole dementor thing. And after what happened last game, I can’t just sit from the stands and watch him get injured again knowing I didn’t do anything about it. Everyone’s pissed at him.”

Fred softens. His mind races, trying to come up with the cons of the request. He comes up empty. This was an excuse to talk to you more and, well, he already quite liked Harry, so that was no issue. And with your convincing doe eyes, how could he refuse?

He’s taking too long to respond and he knows it, but he can’t stop staring at your pretty face. You clear your throat, prodding for an answer. “Huh? Oh, yeah. The lad’s gonna be in good hands, m’lady,” he winks.

The roll of your eyes makes him smile. “Better make sure of it, Weasley.”

And to shut you up, he shoves a grape between your lips and you smack him across the arm.

From then on, Fred and George made sure no one got in Harry’s way. Someone messed with him, they messed with them. The twins were 190 and a half centimetres of beater strength and poking the bear was on no one’s to-do list, so Harry was pretty much set. Well, not entirely.

All Harry really wants to do is sit down and catch up on the pile of homework he’s missed for Chosen One duties, but some people take that as being haughty.

“Potter. You and your godforesaken hero complex. You think you’re untouchable? What’ll happen if I sock you in the face, huh? You think magic will—“

“Fuck around and find out.”

Finnick Lewis turns around. He immediately backtracks. “Hey, listen, man, I don’t want any trouble.” Fred didn’t miss the nasty glare that Lewis sent Harry on his way out. He’d take care of that one later.

The boy doesn’t really know what’s just happened or why, but he’ll take whatever he can get and he’ll be grateful for it. He mumbles out a thank you before scrambling to his room.

You’d seen Fred’s effort in protecting your brother. He’d done a damn good job at it too, because Harry hadn’t complained much about students in weeks. You’re glad you at least took that load off his shoulders.

“Tell you what, Weasley,” you say nonchalantly, unwrapping a chocolate.

He hums. It’s a lazy Sunday afternoon and he’s trying to finish up an essay. Lupin likes him just fine, but he’s definitely a tough grader.

“If you can make sure Harry’s perfectly uninjured after the next game, I’ll give you a kiss.”

Who cares about Lupin? Fred looks up at you instantly, suddenly feeling the velvet of the chair on his skin. “I’ll totally bite. How many seconds?”

You snort. “The kiss?” He nods. “3 seconds. 5 if I’m feeling generous.”

The essay is forgotten just like that.

The man moved the moon and sun to ensure Harry’s safety on his watch. Lewis and Fletcher had their tails between their legs after a few careful threats and actions to back them up, and Harry felt good. Safe. That’s all that mattered.

Monday arrives and the Quidditch stands are a sea of red and green with Gryffindor particularly antsy as Harry zooms around the pitch, Golden Snitch right within his view but not quite arms reach.

“Potter’s got his eye on the prize! I’ve got mine on too, Johnson looks impeccable in robes, I’ll tell you that much— Sorry, Professor.”

Fred’s holding his own, watching out for any foul play from the Slytherin Seeker whilst batting Bludgers. George is at his side, throwing them out and scoring right into Flint’s stomach.

“Wonderful play from Weasley! Not quite sure which one, but great nonetheless,” Lee says through the megaphone.

Fred’s just about to hit a Bludger into the opposing Keeper’s side, but he spots Harry in the corner of his eye being tailed by Higgs and there’s a nasty Slytherin Bludger coming right for him and he’s flying there immediately.

Harry’s so pumped with adrenaline and focus on the Snitch, he doesn’t even notice the ball coming straight to his nose. Godric knows that would leave a mark. Fred comes up and bats it away, nearly falling off his broom.

You’re watching from the stands in admiration and excitement and Fred can’t help but find you in the crowd. He sends you a wink from the pitch and a girl beside you seems to think it’s for her. You let it happen. You know who it belonged to.

Gryffindor emerges victorious, winning by two points and Harry’s crowd surfing, a big smile on his face as students chant his name. He doesn’t know how long the fame will last, but he doesn’t really care.

“You did good, Weasley,” you admit as Fred comes up beside you.

“Think I deserve my kiss now?”

In typical you fashion, you roll your eyes and pull him towards your face.

He thinks the kiss will be haste, but you melt into his lips and he does the very same. His arms snake around your waist and bring you impossibly closer and you relish in it. It’s embarrassing how much you’re grinning, but you can feel his smile too.

Catching your breath, “That was like 30 seconds. Now you gotta help Harry with his homework.”

#🎞 by.ivy #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter imagine #hp imagine #harry potter oneshot #fred weasley #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley x you #fred weasley x y/n #fred weasley fanfiction #fred weasley fluff #weasley twins fanfiction #fred weasley oneshot #fred weasley imagine #weasley twins

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lushaletta · 4 months

Text

hide with me / james potter

pairing: james potter x fem!reader

warnings: mild swearing, mentions of mental health/anxiety, reader has a panic attack

summary: poorly written drabble in which you have awful anxiety and a lovely james.

a/n: i feel like this feels unfinished i’m so sorry… i clearly lost steam by the end but i hope you all like it! i am such a sucker for some james

⋆ ࣪. ⁺⑅ ⋰˚ *.ﾟ .˳⁺⁎˚ ˚⁎⁺˳ . ༺ ˖࣪ ˖࣪ ∗

It feels like the world is caving in on you. The ceiling is about to fall down and crush you under its weight.

The voices of those around have all mixed and faded into each other into a jumble of noise. You don’t quite know what Lily is saying, not even sure what Marlene is doing; you can hardly see anything.

A laughable attempt at taking a breath has you panicking more and you stumble out of Alice’s living room and onto her front patio as hot, salty tears sting your face.

The reason as to why you’re suddenly in this state has you confused. One moment, you’re fine and the next, you’re in full breakdown mode.

Fresh air. That’s usually all you need. You let the scent of pine fill your lungs, grounding yourself on the railing. You’re fine, you try to repeat to yourself. You’re fine.

“Hey,” a voice calls out. You whip around and spot a head of dark curls and pretty hazel eyes.

Him. You don’t know whether you’re happy or sad about his presence. There’s a cigarette hanging out of his mouth and he looks gorgeous as ever.

You’ve liked James a long time. Much too long. He’s liked Lily for longer.

You’re sure he knows about your feelings, you’d done a poor job at keeping them secret, and you’d be surprised if at this point he was unaware.

Remus knows because you’d confided in him first. He was sweet about it, stroking your hair and whispering kind words in your ear. Sirius knows from the “powers of deduction”, as he likes to call it.

“Hi,” he says, putting the cig between his fingers, flicking the ash off.

“Hi,” you reply, a little breathless.

He walks over to you, assessing your state. “Are you alright?”

He’s always been awfully caring. It’s half the reason you like him more than what’s healthy.

James knows your ins and outs. Your family history, all your favourite movies, how many freckles you have. He’s committed every part of you to memory.

He treats you like you’re fragile, like a porcelain doll. As if you’d break when dropped.

Maybe it’s self-righteousness. Maybe he’s doing it out of pity. Though, in this moment, it feels anything but.

“Just fine,” you whisper, staring at him so deeply it’s embarrassing.

“You ran off.”

You laugh a humourless laugh. “Did I?”

James nods, looking like he’s inspecting you. It makes you feel a little self-conscious.

A smile creeps across your face. It’s really only to conceal the awkwardness. “What?”

“I think we’re past the point of pretending everything is alright when it isn’t,” he says, matter-of-factly. “Will you tell me what happened?”

The bluntness of his words makes you nervous. He’s not typically so forward.

“I was overwhelmed.”

His arms lace around your shoulders. “Okay,” he whispers. “Okay, let’s go, then,” he says, decidedly.

It’s a tempting offer. Being dragged away from all the noise and instead spending the night with James, but you don’t want to disrupt his evening with your feelings. He likes these people. He’s comfortable with them. He’s not like you, you say to yourself.

“No. I’m fine, James, really. Please don’t worry yourself.”

“I was kind of getting tired anyway. We can grab food and you can sleep at my place for the night, hm?” he insists, putting out his cig.

He’s doing it again. That thing where he’s just being so considerate and kind to the point that it bothers you.

“I..” you trail off, looking at the stars instead of his eyes. They’re both really beautiful.

“I’d like for you to come with me, sweetheart. Let’s get away. Just for a bit,” he tries again, gently tilting your face towards his.

You’re going to come with him. You were going to the first time he asked, no matter what, but you need to hear that he wants it.

You crack a smile. “Okay.”

Before midnight, you’re in his car. It’s a bit beaten up and the engine takes a couple of tries before it starts, but it’s a charming vehicle. He’s ordering fries for you, doing all the talking you’re so hesitant to.

There are muffled voices over the speaker. “Just a moment.” James turns to you. “Want a coke, baby?”

You nod, tapping your fingers on the window and fumbling with the button of your seatbelt.

He hands you a paper bag.

“Thank you, James. I’m sorry you’re stuck with me instead of with Lily at the gathering.”

His face contorts into a look of slight confusion as he grabs a fry from your hand. “Why would I want to be with Lily?” It’s not that he doesn’t want to hang out with Lily, it’s just that you could’ve asked about Sirius or Remus or even Frank.

“I mean, you like her, don’t you?” you say, voice quivering. Afraid of the answer.

“She’s a nice girl.” It’s not a no. You’re crushed. You nod your head like you’re unsurprised.

A forced smile makes its way onto your lips. “You two would look good together,” you say, hushed.

His brow quirks. “What? No.” It comes out a little sharp, and he immediately softens. “No, it’s not like that. Sorry.”

“Oh.” You hate yourself for it, but you feel your body immediately relax in relief.

Now he’s the uneasy one. His fingers are tapping on the steering wheel and he’s clearly purposely avoiding your gaze.

“Listen—“

“—I’m sorry,” you cut him off. “Sorry, you first.”

The car comes to a stop at some dark parking lot. James turns to face you. “What are you apologising for?”

Even you’re not too sure. It’s a mix of a few things; Lily, forcing him to stay with you, your anxiety, interrupting him, even. A general apology for your.. you-ness.

“All this. I just want you to be happy, James. I’m really sorry for always making you do this. Comfort me whenever I’m overwhelmed like that.”

He blinks. “I’m happy when I’m with you, sweetheart. Why don’t you understand that I enjoy doing this? I love when we escape from those dumb gatherings and do shit like this. I love it. I love you, damn it.”

Your heart drops. No, it stops. He had to be drunk. He was driving under the influence, surely. A crime. That’s a felony. Your head was absolutely spinning.

You don’t know what to do but stare blankly at him as his face asks you to just say something.

“What?”

“I love you! I don’t even know where you got that whole Lily thing. I love you! It’s always been you!”

Well, shit.

You lower your voice to a whisper. “So do something about it, Potter.”

And he does.

#🎞 by.ivy #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter imagine #hp imagine #harry potter oneshot #james potter x y/n #james potter x you #james potter fluff #james potter x reader #james potter oneshot #james potter fanfiction #james potter #marauders oneshot #marauders fanfiction #the maraunders map

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lushaletta · 7 months

Note

hii, could you do a player!george weasley one where he’s hitting on the reader and he usually doesn’t so she’s confused? and she actually really likes him but doesn’t realise/want to accept it so she’s oblivious to what she feels kinda. she also doesn’t wanna get with him because she knows he dates a bunch of girls and breaks their hearts and she doesn’t want it to happen to her. something like that becoz it’s been in my head for soo long <33

do you wanna dance, baby?

pairing: george weasley x fem!reader

warnings: none

summary: you think george is toying with you. he swears he isn’t.

a/n: i sincerely apologise for taking so long to finish this ask,, i struggled immensely with writing this and i’m still not sure i’m entirely happy with it <\33 thank you for requesting !! i love hearing your ideas 🫶🏻

⋆ ࣪. ⁺⑅ ⋰˚ *.ﾟ .˳⁺⁎˚ ˚⁎⁺˳ . ༺ ˖࣪ ˖࣪ ∗

You’re not sure how you end up at every single house party. You have an awful aversion to them, yet you’re still there, holding a solo cup of water.

It’s really not your scene— the drinking, the dancing, the kissing. You feel like a bit of a loser for it.

And then there’s the fact that at each party, you’re cursed to watch George chat up another pretty girl. In fact, you’re not sure you can count all the women he’s had flings with on your fingers.

“You having fun?” he says, so seriously that you almost let out a laugh.

“Not at all.”

He looks surprised. You’re not sure why. “Really?”

“Really.”

George is half the reason you’re here. He drags you by the arm each time, promising you that this time it’ll be different. This time it’ll be fun and he won’t be whisked away by Layla or Eunice or Genevieve or whoever other girl.

“What a shame. You look very pretty tonight,” he says, flattery filling his tone. “A dance?” he tries.

You blink at him. “Oh, don’t.”

A strand of his hair falls in front of his eyes, and you’re tempted to brush it away, but you hold yourself back. You don’t have the alcohol excuse to hide behind.

“Don’t what?” he asks, seeming a tad confused and looking entirely gorgeous as he tilts his head.

It’s cruel, almost. This little game he’s playing.

“You know what I mean. The whole charade you pull with your chicks.”

His face shows no evidence of revelation. “Consider me clueless, doll.”

Now you’re getting upset. “Why are you doing this? Have you run out of girls to toy with? Am I last on your to-do list?”

He cringes. “That’s not it.”

“So what is it?”

A sigh falls from his lips, and his hands fidget with his loosened tie. “I really do think you look pretty tonight. Every other night too.”

You groan. It’s a low, throaty sound you don’t quite recognise. “This is hopeless.”

It’s taken a long time for you to come to terms with your feelings for George. You suppose they’ve always been there, lingering since the moment you became good friends. Before that.

Truth be told, you can’t like him. You don’t mean to pierce at his loyalty but he’s surely not known for being good at commitment. It’d only hurt you. It’d only hold him back.

“I’m not following,” he says, eyebrows furrowing.

“God, don’t you get it? I don’t want to be like the rest of them.” You look at the floor. Anywhere but at him.

“You’re not like the rest of them, doll,” he replies fondly, guiding your chin to face him.

His stare almost hurts. No, it does hurt. This conversation is embarrassing and you’re sure you two are getting curious looks.

You sigh. “You’ll break me.”

“I’ll do my best not to.”

He looks very genuine. There’s no playful glint in his eyes or smirk on his lips.

“Sure?”

“Positive,” he says.

#🎞 by.ivy #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter imagine #hp imagine #harry potter oneshot #george weasley fanfiction #george weasley #george weasley x reader #george weasley imagine #george weasley drabble #george weasley x you

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lushaletta · 2 years

Text

soft smiles / remus lupin

pairing: remus lupin x gn!reader

warnings: none

summary: you can make remus smile when he’s feeling down.

a/n: i’ve been so inactive on tumblr man… sorry about that,, this is a super duper short remus drabble i hope u fancy it nonetheless <33

⋆ ࣪. ⁺⑅ ⋰˚ *.ﾟ .˳⁺⁎˚ ˚⁎⁺˳ . ༺ ˖࣪ ˖࣪ ∗

“What’s the matter? You’re quiet.” Maybe the question was a bit blunt, but you could be like that with Remus.

In his words, “Being direct is being intelligent. Why speak a thousand words when you could speak one?”

He doesn’t reply at first. A moment or two passes by and you wonder if you’ve said something wrong. You prod again. “Remus?”

“Nothing’s the matter, why do you ask?”

“You didn’t even ask me how far along I am on my essay.”

A sigh falls from his lips. “I’m sorry. Did you want me to?”

And you did. As much as you said you despised his constant scrutiny with your studies, it was his and your thing. The fact that he didn’t ask was, to say the least, strange.

“I guess so.”

“Are you almost done?”

“Nope.”

Remus smiles for what feels like the first time that day and you can’t help but feel a little accomplished for being the cause.

“Expected.”

You feel attacked but in the best way possible, because you made him smile and that’s all that matters.

“You did it!” you squeal, and he raises his eyebrow in curiosity.

Finally setting his book down after appropriately bookmarking the page, “Did what?”

“Smiled!” It faded as soon as you got the word out, so you immediately chastise him for it. “Oh, don’t try to hide it now. You were doing it a moment ago!”

He scoffs in that way that he scoffs, and it makes your knees go weak despite you being comfortably seated in a chair.

“You have no proof.”

Then he does it again. Quickly and so very smugly.

“You’re so annoying,” you whine.

He’s as cocky as ever when he says, “But you love me.”

#🎞 by.ivy #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter imagine #hp imagine #harry potter oneshot #harry potter #remus lupin x reader #remus fluff #remus lupin fanfiction #remus x you #remus lupin #marauders oneshot #marauders fanfiction #marauders

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lushaletta · 2 years

Text

baby, just say yes / james potter

pairing: james potter x fem!reader

warnings: none

summary: he’s romeo, you’re a scarlet letter.

a/n: hi lovelies! back again with james because i can’t get enough, apparently. inspired by love story by taylor swift, of course! also can somebody STOP ME from writing summaries because they’re so bad,,, also workin on a lil something for george weasley so yay

⋆ ࣪. ⁺⑅ ⋰˚ *.ﾟ .˳⁺⁎˚ ˚⁎⁺˳ . ༺ ˖࣪ ˖࣪ ∗

He's sweet on your lips, tasting like heaven and hell and sin and virtue. You wonder if anything would ever compare to the sensation of kissing James Potter.

The answer is no and you know it, because his flavour is so addictive and you're not sure if you'll be okay if you don't get closer.

It’s wrong. You’re not supposed to be sitting with him at the abandoned part of town and kissing him like the world is ending.

You’re not enemies. Your families are. It’s not your fault, you never wanted this and neither did he.

And yet here you are, fingers tangled up in James' dark hair, trying desperately to fulfill your need for him and the tantalising taste his tongue brings you.

He looks at you with a lazy smile. "You're so pretty. You're so, so pretty." He plants a kiss on your forehead and maybe it's the air, but you're dizzy. In the best sense of the word.

"I feel like I should've been the one to say that," you think out loud.

The quirk in his eyebrow tells you he's flattered. You feel accomplished. Then you feel amused that you can read his body language so perfectly.

"Maybe you should've. But it appears I'm quicker," he teases.

A chuckle escapes you. "Of course you would make it a competition."

He gestures to himself, as if to say 'that's me'.

You gaze into his eyes, they're enchanting. Complex. Haunting. Then he kisses you again. More passionately this time, if that's even possible. Worries fill your head, what would people think? Of this?

James must notice you're not fully present, because he pulls away and says, "What are you thinking?"

"Should we be doing this?"

"No. Definitely not." He laughs. "But no one's watching, right?"

James is correct. There's no one there to judge or make faces. It's just you, him, and the stars. Maybe they're disappointed, but perhaps it's worth it.

And god, is it ever.

This moment is too perfect to throw away in favour of people you don't even like, so you set your thoughts aside and let him do what he pleases with you.

You’re on his lap now, straddling his hips as his forehead touches yours.

It’s exciting, the danger. You feel guilty for finding this so thrilling, but the way James’ chest is heaving up and down makes you think that maybe he does too.

“What if our parents find out?” you ask, worry creasing your brows.

“So what?” There’s a finality in his tone that should probably comfort you, and it sort of does.

Your forehead is scrunched up, you’re thinking hard. “They’ll kill us! My god, your dad is terrifying. My dad’s terrifying! And your mom— I don’t even want to think about what she’ll do to us.”

“I’ll— I’ll handle it. We’ll be fine.” He’s sure. He’s so sure. And you’re not.

But he’s also happy. Really happy. And that, you are.

It’s the euphoria in his eyes that tells you. The constant upturn of his lips. The way he’s holding you so dearly, as if you’re not the daughter of his parents’ worst nemesis.

He’s so hopelessly fallen, and who are you to deprive him?

“You have my heart, Potter. You know that?” you say.

“All too well,” he replies.

#🎞 by.ivy #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter imagine #hp imagine #harry potter oneshot #harry potter #james potter #james potter x y/n #james potter x you #james potter fluff #james potter x reader #james potter oneshot #james potter fanfiction #marauders oneshot #marauders fanfiction

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lushaletta · 2 years

Text

happy birthday / james potter

pairing: prince!james potter x maids daughter!reader

warnings: royal!au, status difference, mild swearing

summary: his royal highness has a soft spot for an unlikely girl.

a/n: i thought of this in class and it’s the most tropey and cliche thing but it was so fun ?? also i’m now extremely fond of writing for the marauders so yay i think. i’ll probably be writing more of this au just because i enjoyed doing it a ton !!

⋆ ࣪. ⁺⑅ ⋰˚ *.ﾟ .˳⁺⁎˚ ˚⁎⁺˳ . ༺ ˖࣪ ˖࣪ ∗

“Princess, do you think this shirt looks good on me?” James asks. He knows he looks good, he just wants to hear it from you; the voice he values the most.

You laugh knowingly. “Yes, James. I think it makes you look dashing.”

He raises a brow. “Does it?” You nod. He makes a show of adjusting his tie and cuff links, staring at you in the mirror.

And you can’t help but blush. He really is handsome. His hair is messy, the style that his mum scolds him for and you encourage.

Guess whose opinion he follows.

James has never been ashamed of you or your status. It’s the bare minimum, but you’re grateful.

He’s all gold and chalice, while you’re.. you. The daughter of his own fucking maid with just enough money to buy him a cheap ring. It’s plastic, for goodness sake.

“Happy birthday, Jamie,” you say, calling him a nickname just because you can. It’s lovely, since you know he likes it and you also know you’re one of the few people who’ll even dare use the name.

“Thank you.”

He’s getting ready for a birthday ball that he doesn’t even want to go to.

“I’d much rather spend the day with you,” he’d said.

But he knew people were waiting on him, and there was going to be food, so perhaps it’s not that bad. As long as he gets time with you after.

You take a deep breath, pulling the tiny box out of your pocket. “I have something for you.” You’re worried. Not because you think he won’t like it, he’ll love it. It’s just shameful in your eyes. He’s given you expensive things you never thought you’d be able to touch in your lifetime. He’s given you the world.

“You do?”

Instead of a response, you hold the box out in front of him, waving it in his face.

He takes it gratefully, elegantly. His eyes widen. Shit. Does he hate it? No, he probably already has one. Silly of you to think he doesn’t have hundreds of them littering his storage. He hates it.

You clear your throat, prodding for an answer.

“Oh my god, this is amazing, thank you,” he finally says, delight filling his voice.

“I know it’s not much, and you likely—“

“Shut up. It’s beautiful, I love it. Also, does this technically mean you’re proposing to me? Because I don’t have anything prepared. Sorry, darling,” he praises it so easily. Like it’s not an act and like he actually does love it.

Maybe he does.

Your suspicions were confirmed when he slipped the ring on his finger, a little heart adorning the band. He admires it, looking at it in awe.

“This is the best thing anyone’s ever gotten for me. No kidding.”

And to further show his appreciation, he plants a tender kiss on your cheek, one that sort of feels like a present in itself. You’re forgetting whose special day it really is.

None of his fancy crowns or jewels’ shine can compete with that on his face. The smile on James’ lips is a million times brighter than all of them, you’re sure of it.

“Thank you for this. Really,” he adds, as if the kiss and the compliments weren’t enough.

You can only flash him a grin. Then a, “I’m not proposing to you! Not yet, at least.”

“Bold of you to think I wouldn’t do so first.”

There’s nothing James loves more than making you flustered.

#🎞 by.ivy #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter oneshot #harry potter #hp fanfiction #james potter fluff #james potter x you #james potter x reader #james potter oneshot #james potter x y/n #james potter #marauders oneshot #marauders fanfiction

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lushaletta · 2 years

Text

a room invasion / james potter

pairing: james potter x fem!reader

warnings: none

summary: waiting for james to finish quidditch practice while you were in one of his own jerseys was starting to be a daily routine. (wow i suck at writing summaries)

a/n: i’m writing james because he is my beloved ?? this is also super short so apologies, i hope it’s still enjoyable to you!

⋆ ࣪. ⁺⑅ ⋰˚ *.ﾟ .˳⁺⁎˚ ˚⁎⁺˳ . ༺ ˖࣪ ˖࣪ ∗

It was ridiculous, really. Unnecessary and maybe impractical. Yet, it was beginning to be a daily routine. Coming to James’ dorm instead of your own, while he was at Quidditch practice after you got dismissed from your last class. You’d slip on one of his shirts, then lounge around until he finished.

Yes, you could very well stay where you should; your room, which was made for you. But something about being in his, wearing his jersey, the casual domesticity of it, was too good to resist.

And that afternoon was no different from the previous ones that month.

The Potions essay you were working on seemed far less important than it should have, your mind focused on James. You missed him, though perhaps you shouldn’t have. You’d seen him in all your classes that day, but contact was limited to stolen glances and quick kisses during passing period.

So you continued to write about the effects of Garrotting Gas, even if it were the least of your interests at that moment.

It had gotten fairly dark outside, the sun starting to set and the sky becoming a sea of pinks and oranges. You were even more bored than you were an hour ago, and you were considering leaving to go to the Quidditch Pitch and watch James.

But then the door swung open, the low creak being the best sound you’d heard since hearing James’ voice that morning.

“It seems there’s someone invading my room.”

You jumped up, mood brightened. “Yeah, and it seems you’ve given said invader a key,” you said, dangling the spare set of keys that he gifted you.

“What can I say? I’m a generous man.” He walked over to you, finally giving you the kiss you’d been craving the whole day. Your heart raced, it was the perfect kiss.

You were satisfied. “Man? I think you mean boy,” the tilt of humour in your voice caused him to smile.

A scoff. “What boy has these muscles?” He pulled his jersey up, exposing his toned body that he had Quidditch to thank for.

You rolled your eyes, pretending to be unimpressed. “Whatever.” But your own face betrayed you, a slight grin painting your expression.

“Yeah, ‘whatever’. Don’t think I don’t know that you’re wearing my shirt right now,” James retorts, and it was his turn to roll his eyes.

“Shut it. It’s comfortable!” you argued. Then you turned around, covering the “Potter” printed on the back of the fabric, a teasing smirk on your lips that he couldn’t see.

The essay you were working on laid long forgotten, but that was okay. Slughorn could wait. As long as there’s James.

Another scoff. An amused one. “Hey, don’t hide it. I think you look good wearing my last name.”

He was only trying to humour you, but his words make your cheeks heat up nonetheless, and you’re suddenly extremely grateful that you’re not facing him. If he saw just how flustered he got you, you wouldn’t hear the end of it.

“I hate you, Mr. Potter,” you said, your fond tone not matching what came out of your mouth.

“And I love you, Mrs. Potter,” he replied.

You groaned in fake annoyance. “Ugh, that’s so sweet. You’re such a sap.”

Turning to him once again, James took the opportunity to plant an even sweeter kiss on your forehead. You squealed, feeling a little cheated.

His dark curls were messy from practice, irrevocably yours. And you almost liked him better like that. A little untidy. He’s pretty. You’re lucky, you think.

He shrugged, “Some say it’s my biggest character flaw.”

#🎞 by.ivy #harry potter imagine #hp imagine #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter #harry potter oneshot #james potter #james potter fanfiction #james potter oneshot #james potter x reader #james potter x you #james potter fluff #marauders oneshot #marauders #marauders fanfiction

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lushaletta · 2 years

Text

that cursed, darned b-word / remus lupin

pairing: remus lupin x fem!reader

warnings: none

summary: remus seems to have changed a lot over the summer, and so have your feelings for him.

a/n: yay i finally wrote marauders?? this might seem a lil rushed but that’s because it totally was… but yk i love me some lupin so i had to post it! i def plan to write more marauders content so that’s stellar. anyway, enjoyy!

⋆ ࣪. ⁺⑅ ⋰˚ *.ﾟ .˳⁺⁎˚ ˚⁎⁺˳ . ༺ ˖࣪ ˖࣪ ∗

Alright, this was getting out of hand.

How could Remus Lupin exit the Hogwarts Express on the first day of term, looking like that? It was preposterous, truly. You hadn’t seen him the whole break, and he had the nerve to get even more bloody attractive?

Your jaw dropped, he’d grown taller. His hair was longer. Had his cheekbones become more defined? You couldn’t ignore the obvious; his body was chiseled to perfection. It was apparent in the way his uniform was snug around his torso.

And that boy dared to shoot you a wink and that killer smile.

“Y/N!” he shouted, walking towards you. As he pulled you into a tight embrace, you inhaled his scent. Old books. Wood. Hot cocoa. “I’ve missed you, you know?”

Yeah. Of course, you knew. He’d been writing to you all summer, declaring how much he missed your late nights spent together in the common room, reading cheesy romances while he engaged himself with encyclopedias and research guides.

And you wrote back, declaring the very same thing.

“I think I missed you more. But that’s just a wild guess,” you said, and he could definitely feel your smile while you talked, considering how wide it was.

He couldn’t conceal his own smile. “Well, your guess is wrong, since I 100% missed you more.”

As much as you didn’t want him to, he pulled away. Because breathing is nice. Maybe not as nice as being enveloped in his hugs, but still nice.

You looked at him, eyes raking over his figure. With a cross of your arms and an overdone scoff, “Do my eyes deceive me, or have you gotten… more handsome?”

“I didn’t think that was possible,” he replied smoothly.

You raised your eyebrows inquisitively. “Have you been practicing these witty responses in the mirror?”

“Perhaps. What’s it to you?” he challenged.

“Oh, it’s everything,” you snorted. “Little Moony practices his comebacks in the mirror. Wait, no! Oh my god, do you practice with James and Sirius?”

And speak of the devil, the familiar image of the two boys behind Remus became clearer as they inched nearer, bookbags slung over their shoulders and cheeks dimpled.

“Alright, alright, quit the flirting. We’ve seen it all before,” James remarked, exchanging knowing glances with Sirius.

“Yeah, mate. We haven’t even set foot inside Hogwarts and you’re already all over the poor girl.”

You wouldn’t exactly consider yourself poor. Not when you’re with your best friends and Remus.

Not that he wasn’t a best friend. Because he totally was.

“—boyfriend,” you heard someone say. Admittedly, you weren’t quite paying attention anymore.

“Boyfriend? What about boyfriends?” you asked, stupidly. “Remus is not my boyfriend!” You gave them a bewildered frown.

Sirius seemed amused. “No. What? No one was saying that. I was telling my dear friends that Marlene got into a relationship. You should know that, because dear friends listen when their dear friend is talking.”

The embarassment hit you all at once. Yikes, you really did associate Remus with that word. That cursed, darned B-word.

“Oh,” you said timidly.

“Yeah, yeah. Sorry to break it to you,” he replied with the wave of his hand; dismissing the matter.

But oh-so-cruel James just had to bring it up again. “It’s sweet that your mind went there, though,” he added. “What do you think about that, Moons?”

You shot Remus a look that he knew all too well. A look that said, ‘please don’t say anything embarassing’.

And after years, he picked up on this immediately. “No comment. This is a matter not involving me,” he said, a teasing tone entwined in his voice.

“How anti-climactic,” James sighed.

Before long, the group of you spilled inside the Great Hall, ready to devour the annual welcoming feast; one of the best of the year.

You and Remus sat beside each other, of course. His hand ran up and down your thigh as he ate, touch that made your heart race and breath hitch. Not because you weren’t used to it, but because after what happened earlier, you felt as if it were different.

And he must’ve noticed this, since he halted his movements and looked at you. A non-verbal question.

The answer was yes. It was always yes. So he continued.

You never felt the need to deny Remus anything, and that wouldn’t start now. Even if you saw him as more than he probably saw you.

You were thinking so much, and with excited, loud chatter from old and new students alike, the table wasn’t a feasible place to do all your thinking. You got up hastily, planning to settle into your bed much earlier than everyone else.

But he followed you.

Sitting on the steps of the staircase, head in hands and loud sighs escaping your lips every so often. “Hey,” he said.

You didn’t even notice that he was there. “Hey.”

“Why’d you run off?” asked Remus tenderly.

You simply shrugged, fearing that your voice would betray you if you spoke and make you say things you didn’t want to say.

“You can tell me, you know,” he pressed.

And you told him. You couldn’t not tell him, not when he had that caring look in his eyes or half-smile that you loved so much. So you let the words pour out of your mouth before you had the chance to think otherwise. “We’re friends, right?” He nodded. Ouch. “But, like, I don’t want to be that.” Upon seeing the horrified look on his face, “No! I mean, I want to be, like, more. ‘Cause, you’re like.. nice.”

The amused grin that snuck its way onto his face did not comfort you. “You want to be… more than friends?” he asked, still smiling.

Embarrassment had overtaken you, so you only nodded in response.

“Well,” he began. “Lucky you, because I’d quite like that as well.”

#🎞 by.ivy #harry potter imagine #hp imagine #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter oneshot #harry potter #remus fluff #remus lupin #remus x y/n #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin fanfiction #remus lupin imagine #marauders #marauders fanfiction #marauders oneshot

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lushaletta · 1 year

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differences from then and now / george weasley

pairing: george weasley x fem!reader

warnings: smoking cigarettes, swearing

summary: you and george were friends, but apparently friends don’t do what you do.

a/n: i’ve been gone for 2 months but i am here. where’s the applause? KIDDING. i started this like last night and spedran it so i hope it’s up to par even though my writing’s a lil rusty!

⋆ ࣪. ⁺⑅ ⋰˚ *.ﾟ .˳⁺⁎˚ ˚⁎⁺˳ . ༺ ˖࣪ ˖࣪ ∗

“Nice night, isn’t it?” George says, cutting through the gloom of silence with a voice that’s sweeter than treacle.

To be honest, you don’t know him all that well anymore. Him talking to you is already a pleasant surprise.

And it’s not that you had a dramatic falling out. It’s not that one of you became an awful person all of a sudden, causing your friendship to crumble. No, it was a slow drift that aging could be blamed for.

“It is.”

He doesn’t say anything to that. Maybe he’s not trying to rekindle something, maybe he just had a bit to drink and you were… around.

You swallow, not wanting the conversation to end. “You, uh, you gonna get back inside?”

“You want me to?” he replies.

“No! I mean, no. I just thought… I don’t know, they’re doing shots in there.”

He takes a drag out of his cigarette, a habit he never had while you knew him. “Soon. Just went out for a smoke.”

You already know it’d be prying, but anything for more conversation material. “That stuff’ll kill you, you know.”

“Or maybe you will,” he mumbles, turning his head away.

This puzzles you. It puzzles you a lot. What does that mean?

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“That was something,” you say, unconvinced.

George shoots a frustrated look at the sky as a low, almost inaudible groan escapes him. “It’s just that you look pretty in your dress. When’d you even get that?”

So he’s also paying attention to your differences from then and now. Who knew.

“Why does it matter? We’re not… friends anymore, George.”

“Were we ever? Is that what we were before? Just friends?”

Your heart skips a beat. A misunderstanding.

It all makes sense now. He’d distanced himself from you when you’d started chatting with another boy in class. God, he’d thought you were more.

“I thought we were just friends.”

He grunts. “How could you think that? Friends don’t look at each other the way we do. Friends don’t act the way we do.”

It’s the angriest you’ve ever seen him, and his cigarette’s been put out and his hands are in his hair.

“I’m sorry,” is all you can manage. You feel bad for not saying more, but what’s there to say?

“No! I’m fucking sorry for not telling you how much I wanted to fucking kiss you on all those nights we were alone and laughing. I’m fucking sorry for not telling you how much I wanted to fucking murder Field when he flirted with you. I’m fucking sorry for not telling you how much I fucking love you.”

“Do you still want to?”

“What?”

“Kiss me?”

It takes one flicker to your lips before he grabs your face, tasting and smelling awfully like smoke, a scent you usually hate but can’t help but adore as of right now.

And god, you’d be lying if you said it didn’t feel criminally right to be kissing on Lee Jordan’s porch at a party where anyone could walk out and see.

You pull away to catch your breath. Though your lips being pressed against his feels infinitely better, you decide.

“I’ve missed you,” you say.

You figure out that he has too. A lot.

#🎞 by.ivy #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter imagine #hp imagine #harry potter oneshot #harry potter #george weasley x reader #george weasley imagine #george weasley fanfiction #george weasley

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lushaletta · 4 hours

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love and its lethal consequences / tom riddle

pairing: tom riddle x fem!reader

content: muggleborn!reader, dark!tom, mild swearing, violence

summary: tom grapples between his dark desires and his unlikely affection for you. it’s deadly.

a/n: part 3 to this lil series :> pls lmk if u guys r enjoying so far!! idk how long i want this to be but we shall see where it goes

read the previous parts: one two

⋆ ࣪. ⁺⑅ ⋰˚ *.ﾟ .˳⁺⁎˚ ˚⁎⁺˳ . ༺ ˖࣪ ˖࣪ ∗

Tom has decided. And once Tom decides something, nothing will get in his way.

You are to be his.

The murder would be the easiest part of all. Twice, now, he’s done it. First with that disgusting, grumbling Myrtle and second with his nasty father he can’t even be bothered to think about.

Third time is always the charm. He has it all figured out.

“Tommy!” you beam, following the daily routine. You slide over a treacle tart. “You liked these ones last time.”

He accepts the dessert wordlessly. He’s too deep in thought. You grin.

A few more moments of silence pass and you begin to be irritated by the lack of noise. You have to fill the air up somehow. “Have I told you about Murph yet?”

He’s almost sickened by the name itself. So much so that he can’t stomach the lovely tart your mother has made for him. You’re on a nickname basis now? “You have not.”

You haven’t told him anything about this boy, but he already knows everything. He won’t have to worry about this foul beast for much longer, so he’ll tolerate the giddiness in your eyes for now.

“We’ve just gone on a date. I think it went well, you know? He’s sweet. Opens the door for me, matches pace. That type of thing.”

Tom could do that too if that’s what you really wanted. “How wonderful,” he deadpans.

You’d be a fool not to notice the way his eye twitched when you said the word “date” or the poorly hidden sarcasm he laced in his speech.

“I think our next one is this Wednesday,” you continue.

He’s absolutely fucking repulsed. If he didn’t know any better, he’d march on over to that moron’s room and take care of it himself. But there’s a plan, procedure to be followed. And Tom is nothing if not methodical.

“I can’t believe it! The both of us have dates this week. What even are our lives now?” Camilla cheers, leaning back in her seat.

“I don’t think Tom is very happy about mine.”

She raises a brow. “That’s because Murphy isn’t pure. I’m telling you, Riddle’s lot is psychotic.”

“Okay, I’m not a fan of them either, but Tom knows I’m not pure. He’s been perfectly pleasant.”

“He hardly speaks!” she retorts.

You roll your eyes and urge her to continue reading her book. She complies. Camilla’s never been very argumentative.

As she settles in the pages, all entranced by the words, you lean back in your chair. It is a strange twist of fate that you’re now friends with Tom, but despite Camilla’s warnings, you can’t get yourself to leave. It’s a comfortable trap.

“Hello,” Tom says from behind you as you swing your feet on the railings.

You don’t skip a beat. “Hi!”

Tom knows by now that he can’t surprise you.

The echoing chambers of Hogwarts are bathed in soft moonlight, and no one else is around. Tom is usually by himself at this time. You only steal each other’s afternoons.

“You know,” you muse, breaking the comfortable quiet that settled between you. “You’re very important to me.”

Tom clears his throat. He’s never really been important to anyone. He swallows. “Likewise.”

He’s avoiding your gaze. You think it’s cute. His lips quirk into a faint smile, a rare glint of amusement dancing in his dark eyes, but it’s gone as soon as it comes.

Suddenly, you study his face, trying to unravel the mysteries hidden within. He’s more withdrawn recently. Even quieter, if that’s possible. You suppose it has something to do with Murph but you never can be too sure when it comes to him.

“You’re staring,” he says.

“I like the view.” He sighs.

Tom is not a good person. Far from it. Your friend realises it but you don’t. You’re a glimmer of hope in the darkness that threatens to consume him, that’s already consumed him. You’re both refuge from his despair and a constant reminder. He finds solace in your company and he hates it but now he has no choice. He can’t bring himself to kill you. He knows he never will and so it has to be this way.

It will hurt you, undoubtedly. It will make him more terrible than he already is.

Time is creeping up on him. You’re growing closer with that wretched Ravenclaw and the longer he waits, the more you will be affected.

“Murphy Atthill.”

He turns around at the call of his name and can’t help but feel uneasy. Tom’s presence tends to do that. “Riddle? What can I do for you?” he asks politely. He isn’t very good at masking his anxiety.

Tom casts the Killing Curse and he feels the unmistakable split of his soul as he recites haunting Latin incantations. He knows there’s no going back.

A chilling sense of finality looms over him and yet it weighs light on his conscience. All for the better, this is. In fact, it’s a twisted sense of satisfaction that he feels knowing that the deed is done. He knows he’s crossed a line with you from which there is no return,

But Murphy’s eyes lifeless are much prettier that way.

taglist for this series!! @mariamyousef702 @enidths @narwhal-swimmingintheocean @girlogies @unwrittenletter @helalokithor

#🎞 by.ivy #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter imagine #hp imagine #harry potter oneshot #tom riddle fanfiction #tom riddle x reader fluff #tom riddle x y/n #tom riddle blurb #tom riddle fluff #tom riddle drabble #tom riddle x reader #tom riddle angst #tom riddle x you #tom riddle imagine #tom riddle #tom marvolo riddle #dark!tom riddle #tom riddle x reader angst

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lushaletta · 2 years

Text

cinnamon bark and warmth / george weasley

pairing: george weasley x gn!reader

warnings: none

summary: waking up beside george weasley was far from what you imagined when you fell asleep in the common room, but here you are. arms on his torso, fingers entangled in his messy hair. oh, dear.

a/n: HELLOOOO! i am back with yet another george fic. i just can’t get enough of him, i am so sorry. NEXT ONE WILL NOT BE GEORGE, I SWEAR! this is also not proofread or any good, but i hope you guys like it nonetheless. my upcoming fic will be better… promise… just wait </3

⋆ ࣪. ⁺⑅ ⋰˚ *.ﾟ .˳⁺⁎˚ ˚⁎⁺˳ . ༺ ˖࣪ ˖࣪ ∗

The smell of cinnamon bark and warmth enveloped the Gryffindor common room that night. A warm blanket hugged your body as you got lost in the adventures of the characters in whatever novel you were reading.

The all too familiar feeling of drowsiness was beginning to kick in as you felt your eyelids becoming heavy. You should’ve gotten up and slept where you were supposed to, in the dormitory on your four-poster bed, but you were much too content where you were. Before you could drift off into dreamland, Fred Weasley’s voice sounded from outside the door.

“Juggernaut,” you heard him say, followed by the Fat Lady’s approval and the door creaking open.

Immediately, you shut your eyes. You listened as the Weasley twins inched nearer to your couch, being careful not to wake you up from your false slumber.

“Shh, she’s asleep!” George scolded as Fred stepped on a particularly loud wooden plank that most who are proficient in sneaking in or out, would know to avoid. Fred’s footsteps descended, and you thought he was already at the base of the stairs leading to the boys’ dorm.

“Are you coming or not?” He whispered, and there was no response from George, so you assumed he replied non-verbally. For moment, you found yourself wondering what he replied.

Thankfully, the questions that bubbled up were quickly answered. “I’m going to stay down for a bit. Go ahead, though. I’ll be up soon.”

You didn’t open your eyes until you were sure Fred was up the stairs. You were expecting George to sit on a chair, maybe do some homework, but he situated himself on the same cushion you were lying down on.

He noticed you weren’t asleep anymore, and he was quick to feel guilty for waking you. “Sorry, were we too loud?” He said softly.

You sat up, now leaning against the armrest. “No! No, I was— I was awake.” You cringed a little, revealing your façade.

“Don’t you want to go back your actual bed? I reckon it’d be more comfortable.”

Groaning loudly, you clutched the blanket and brought it up to your face. “But it’s so warm here.” It really was. You’d rather die than move from your snug placement and have to recreate it. He scoffed. “I’m gonna sleep now. Goodbye!” With that, you fell back down and closed your eyes dramatically.

George rolled his and picked up the book you were reading before his arrival. He flicked through the pages, checking the length. If it wasn’t too long, he’d occupy himself with it until you were actually fast asleep.

He did not go through with his plan.

At first, he was actually reading. Reading turned to scanning and scanning turned to staring blankly at the words, not processing a single one. He too, was feeling tired and the long day was catching up to him.

Just gonna rest my eyes, he promised himself. He’d go back to his room in a little while. But you were right about the coziness of the couch. It made him want to sleep. To never get up.

It did exactly that. In five minutes, he was dozing off. If he was awake, he’d never be in this position. His arms were wrapped around your waist, head buried in the crook of your neck.

The wizards who decorated the common room must’ve been interior designing geniuses, because they had chosen the perfect furniture for this occasion. George rarely found a sofa long enough for him to lay on, nor one sufficiently wide to accommodate two people. Yet, the couch was good for both those things.

Your body moving jolted him awake, but not enough for him to gain alertness. He was simply conscious. Had he had more awareness, he would’ve gotten up and transferred.

You were now facing him, your leg on top of his ankle and hand on his shoulder. He lazily pulled you towards him, not realising what he was doing. Your sleeping state kindly accepted the advance and your touch was now firmer.

It had to have been like that the entire night, because when you woke up, the curtains were now drawn and the window allowed sunshine to pass through. It took you a moment to process how you were resting, your fingers were somehow tangled in his fiery red hair. You were so close to his face and his eyes were peacefully closed.

You wanted to stay like this forever. Uh-oh.

Fortunately, you didn’t have to be the bearer of bad news. He woke up himself, just as shocked at the position he was wrapped up in. He quickly moved away, and you missed his warmth immediately.

“I’m so sorry! I was reading, and then— and then, I got really tired so I fell asleep. I was gonna go to my room! Promise!” The horrified look he was wearing made you giggle.

“It’s fine.” You said, trying to act cool and nonchalant, but your heart was practically jumping out of your chest.

He sat up, scrambling for his tie and sweater vest that were laying on the floor haphazardly. Good Godric, what could the students possibly be thinking of the two of you right now?

Before he could pick up his vest, his twin walked down the stairs with the biggest grin on his face. You looked at both of them, you knew he was going to be teased relentlessly for this mistake.

“You’ll ‘be up soon’, huh? Look where that’s led us.”

#🎞 by.ivy #george weasley x reader #george weasley imagine #george weasley fanfiction #harry potter oneshot #harry potter imagine #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter #hp imagine

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