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#( james potter )
batszboo · 2 days
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"You're dumb"
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moonstruckme · 2 days
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Hi Mae!! I keep rereading the overprotective poly marauders fic I love it sm 🫶 can I please request another one it can tie into casual dominance marauders if you want I don’t mind I just can’t get them off my mind. Thanks babe!!
Hi lovely!! So this went a bit off the rails, I had different intentions for it at first but then somehow it became very serious and the boys not so much overprotective as reasonably upset....all in all, I'm not super happy with it but I didn't want to throw it out, I'd be happy to write another overprotective one for you if you'd like!
cw: sexual assault
poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 1.5k words
You walk out of your office feeling odd and off-kilter. Your mind seems addled, unable to complete one thought before jumping to the next, and something prickles just underneath your skin that feels like anger and shame and also like panic. 
Your boyfriends are waiting for you, idling at the curb. You’re supposed to go straight from here to the cinema, and you tell yourself you’ll feel better afterwards. Even if not, you have until Monday before you have to deal with this, if you deal with it at all. You may not. You’re not sure. You can’t think straight. 
“Hey, angel,” James says as you get in, and it’s immediately obvious your upset has already been noticed. Probably as soon as you walked outside, your boyfriends observing you through the car windows. Remus, in the driver’s seat, and Sirius, sitting beside you in the back, are both charily silent. “How was work?” 
“It was fine,” you reply. Your voice sounds off even to your own ears, but no one comments as Remus puts the car in drive. 
“Ready for the weekend?” James imbues his voice with a light sort of commiseration. You try to smile for him. 
No one is more surprised than you when a sob chokes you instead. You hide your face in your hands, tears already leaking out from between your lashes. 
“God, sorry.” 
“Hey, what’s wrong?” Sirius asks, unbuckling his seatbelt and reaching for you. Remus pulls into a parking spot just by the exit and shuts off the engine, turning around in his seat. “Baby.” Sirius wraps his arm around your shaking shoulders, squeezing tight. He sounds anxious. “Did something happen?” 
The worst of your crying passes like a summer storm, over as quickly as it started. Your emotions gone haywire. You lean into Sirius, and he clicks the buckle on your seatbelt for you, pulling you the rest of the way. 
“You’re scaring me,” he murmurs, pressing a quick kiss to your hairline. “Tell us why you’re upset, angel, please.” 
“I think,” you mumble, face and eyes burning, “my boss grabbed my butt.” 
You say it quieter than a whisper, but you know they’ve all heard. The silence that follows is so complete you could hear a pin drop. 
“What?” James asks. His throat sounds dry. 
You hear Remus sigh. “Oh, sweetheart.” The vinyl of his seat squeaks as he shifts. “When did this happen?” 
“Just now,” you answer. 
“Right.” Sirius’ arms had gone tense around you, but now they fall away completely. He moves for his door. “I’ll be back.” 
“Don’t,” you plead. You worry he will anyway, but Remus locks the doors from the front seat. 
Sirius cuts a glare his way, truly scary with the way wrath seems to gleam in his gray irises. He unlocks his door manually, and Remus locks it again. 
“We can’t be rash,” he says, his own tone sharper than you think is intended for anyone in the car. “We have to think this through.” 
“What’s there to think about?” Sirius snaps. James reaches behind his seat, taking your hand and rubbing comfortingly. “He’s just inside!” 
“You think I don’t want to go in there too?” Remus gives him a look that’s a short fall from incredulous. “But if we have to call the police, it won’t help if you’ve already had a go at him.” 
Your head spins. You hadn’t even thought of calling the police. You hadn’t really gotten past going to the cinema. 
“What do you mean, you think he grabbed you, sweetheart?” James' voice is pointedly kinder than the others, and Remus takes a deep breath, calming himself. 
“I don’t know, I just—I feel like I can’t be sure—” 
“That’s alright.” Remus' voice is slower now. Soothing. “Why don’t you tell us how it happened?” 
“I, um.” You swallow. James strokes the back of your hand with his thumb. “I was looking at something on his computer, because he said he wasn’t getting my emails and I thought they might be going to his spam. He was sitting behind me in his chair, and we were talking and his hand, like, squeezed—” your brain tries to shake off the memory, and you shudder along with it “—and then he just kept talking like nothing happened. It was so fast I’m not sure it even did--” 
“Baby.” 
You don’t realize you’re tripping over your words until Sirius’ voice cuts through them. You look at him, and his eyes are already on yours, fierce but solid. 
“Did you feel him touch you?” he asks. 
You rub your lips together. “Yeah,” you murmur. 
Your boyfriend’s expression pinches, but his gaze is steady. “Then he did. Trust yourself. You know what happened.” 
This provokes another wave of tears, less tempestuous than the first but somehow more painful. You wouldn't have expected any one of your boyfriends to blame you, not if you’d thought about it, but you haven’t had time to think yet and the relief that they’re so wholly on your side makes your heart feel cracked open. 
“Dove, I’m so sorry,” Remus says. He’s frowning, a well-worn line etched between his brows. You hate to put it there. “What do you want to do? Do you know if you can contact HR?” 
“I don’t know,” you admit, pliable to Sirius’ ministrations as he tucks you securely under one arm and uses the other to thumb at your salty cheeks. “I feel a bit silly. It was a small thing, I don’t think it’s worth a bunch of fuss.” 
“It’s not a small thing,” says James, uncharacteristically severe. “It’s a big thing—a really fucked up thing, that he did—and it’s worth a lot of fuss. A lot.” He leans around his seatback, pressing a firm kiss to your hand. “It’s just a matter of how much fuss you’re willing to go through with, sweetheart. It’s up to you. We can go through HR, we can go to the police. There’s still the option of just going in there and roughing him up to be sure it doesn’t happen again.” He smiles wryly. It looks like it takes effort. “I’m very game for that option. We know Sirius is ready.” 
Sirius makes an affirming humph sound against the side of your head. You try to smile back at James. 
“I think maybe…HR?” Your voice is tentative. “I have a friend, Marcella, who I think would be nice about it.” You realize as it comes out of your mouth what a low bar that is, but that’s the reality of your situation. 
“Do you know if she’s still here?” Remus asks. 
You feel your brow wrinkle. “I think so…” 
Remus unlocks the doors, and James gets out. You barely manage to squeak out a “Wait” before the door shuts behind him. 
You turn to Remus. “Where’s he going?” 
“To find Marcella,” he says. “It’s better that they know when it’s just happened, dovey, but you don’t have to deal with it right now. That’s why James is going instead.” 
You nod. It makes sense, even if the reality of it all makes tears press at your throat again. 
“My sweet girl.” Sirius holds you tight, mashing a kiss into the side of your head. “I’m so sorry this happened, baby. I’m sorry we weren’t there to protect you.” 
“Don’t be sorry,” you murmur, turning in his arms to hug him properly. He seems pleased with this development, and squeezes you ferociously. “You can’t always be with me. And it’s not your responsibility.” 
“Careful what you say.” Sirius seems to muster up some humor, a teasing edge to his tone. “I’ll get us one of those big shirts so the four of us can fit in it together, and then you’ll never be rid of us.” 
“It’s our job to look after you,” says Remus, firm but kind. “It’s true we can’t be with you all of the time, but I’m glad you felt comfortable telling us this. Thank you, sweetheart.” 
You’re about to dismiss his thanks when James gets back in the car, this time in the back seat instead of the front. 
“Did you see him?” Sirius asks immediately, scooching the both of you over to make room. 
“No, he must’ve left right after her.” James looks unhappy, but his touch is gentle as always as he takes your waist in both hands, easing you off of Sirius’ lap and into the seat between them. Sirius sighs but doesn’t complain, likely knowing he’s had more than his fair share of your comfort. 
“Marcella was nice, though,” James says. “She arranged for you to have the morning off on Monday, and she’ll call you then to hear from you what happened. We can be with you, if you like.” 
“Monday.” You blow out a slow breath, though it doesn’t do much to keep your throat from contracting in panic. “Okay, that sounds good. Thank you.” 
“No worries, angel.” James rubs your thigh, watching you carefully. “You doing okay?” 
“Yeah, sorry.” Your voice squeaks, and you cover your eyes with a hand. Sirius whines and kisses your shoulder. You try to laugh, but it comes out wet. “I think this might just keep happening for a while.” 
“Oh, honey, it’s okay,” Remus coos, reaching out a hand to set on the top of your head. He scratches at your scalp with his fingernails the way he knows you like. “It makes sense to be upset. We’ll get you through this, alright? Let us look after you for a bit.” 
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sneeze - @jegulus-microfic - word count: 123
"Reg?"
His head was pounding, congestion causing the entire room to spin and undulate.
"Baby? Are you okay?"
The bed dipped, and he felt James sit down behind him on the small mattress. "Who let you in?" he grumbled, trying not to betray his current condition by talking to loud.
"Barty. He told me you're sick," James murmured gently, his warm hand resting at Regulus's shoulder.
"M'not," Regulus mumbled, stifling a sneeze.
"Yeah?" James asked softly, a smile in his voice, wrapping his arms around Regulus and pulling him against his chest. "Suppose you want me to leave, then? Let you do some homework?"
"No," Regulus groaned, turning to curl into James's embrace. "Stay."
"Or course, darling. Drink some water for me, please."
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whoopsiesnodaisies · 2 days
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Big fan of the James is colorblind headcanon
Like, yes, he mixes up his and Regulus’ ties all the time. But also he has no idea which first years are in his house. When he’s headboy he constantly gives and takes away points from the wrong houses.
He found out he was colorblind during a quidditch match when he passed the ball to the wrong team.
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orangemuffinss · 2 days
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Regulus calling james ‘Jamie’ is so important to me
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chrissy0689 · 3 days
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can’t let the gang know that i fw dead gay wizards
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charlie-old-one · 3 days
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Marauders are wolfstar's n°1 fans 🪐
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arkieve · 3 days
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a jegulus fic where it's dual pov and james' pov plays out like a romcom and regulus' pov is pure horror.
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inkdrinkerworld · 2 days
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𝓒𝓤𝓟𝓘𝓓'𝓢 𝓒𝓤𝓡𝓢𝓔
Synopsis: James can make your days trying to get a story for your company really hard, he gets under your skin and knows exactly what buttons to poke and you hate it.
cw: a bit of an axious!reader, rugby!james, i used the house names for the clubs but it is not at all set in the HP universe.
wc: 1.1k
-`♡´--`♡´--`♡´--`♡´--`♡´--`♡´-
Sports journalism is fun and rewarding. 
You love going to the post and pre-match interviews and talking to the players and managers and getting all the insight you can to then write your story. What you don’t like is having to interview James Potter. 
Everytime James sees you in the press room, he decides it’s his time to be the most non-descriptive, non-responsive to all of your questions and make it difficult for you to even write a story. He loves giving you vague answers that don’t answer any of your questions and it gets under your skin like nothing else. 
It’s even more tiresome when he’s the team’s go to media-man because of his looks. He’s England’s current heartthrob first and their best flanker second. He’s beefy and burly, with curls that look like they’ve been ink dipped individually and dimples that throw a wrench into many a woman’s plan. It also doesn’t help you, mostly, that he’s the perfect gentleman the minute the cameras are on and everything he says takes on this sugary, colying tone.
Dread fills you as you walk into the media room, finding a few familiar faces before you sit to the back. You hope in vain that James isn’t on media today, maybe they’ll put his sweet teammate Remus on media duty. He’s always sweet and succinct, answering all the questions, no matter how ridiculous, with a grace and precision you suspect makes him perfect for being the team’s fly-half. 
You’d even interview his rowdy teammate Sirius, possibly the best winger in the game right now, and endure his loudness and even his flirtations with the camera so long as you just got good answers. 
Your hope is shattered when you hear James talking as he rounds the corner, your hands grow cold knowing that today is the day you write a half decent story about the Gryffindor team. 
“Morning,” he calls as he enters, his eyes find you immediately and the smile he shoots you makes you scowl. It’s going to be a long press day. “It’s great to be back.” 
“How have you and your team prepared for the start of the season? Knowing it’s a derby game must make it all the more exciting to be back.” One journalist starts, sweat already pebbling on your brow. 
James answers perfectly, in depth and with the knowledge that you sometimes forget these players possess. 
“What about the injured players from last season? Can we look out for their names on the starting squad? What sort of system can we look forward to this season?” You ask, hands shaking as you prepare for the worst. You hate how much anxiety courses through you nowadays in these interviews. They used to be far more fun. 
“I can’t well say what we’re going to play this weekend, it’d be a bit of a helping hand to the Slytherin team.” The media room laughs and you have to bite your tongue to keep the scowl off your face. “However, we’ve got a lot of key players back in the squad, so I’ll say keep your ears open for some names you haven’t heard in a couple months.” 
By the time you’re finished with the conference, you’ve got sufficient answers for the hopes of the beginning of the season but every other question was bypassed or you’d received a roundabout answer. 
You’re picking up all your equipment, the other journalists all gone already. James hovers near the door, watching you for whatever reason but it makes your skin crawl. He has to know what he’s done. 
“Can I help you, Potter?” You ask, lifting your head to catch a peek at him. His arms are folded across his chest and he’s leaning against the doorframe, something sort of like a smile on his face. 
“Just waiting for you to be done. Wouldn’t feel right to just leave you in here alone.” There’s a bit of sincerity but mostly amusement in his tone and you roll your eyes. James laughs and pushes off the door frame moving towards you, “All done?” you huff and sigh, hoisting your bag over your shoulder and walking past him. 
“Have a good training session, James.” he nods, watching you go with a smile on his face, one that spreads bigger when your perfume lingers in the room after you. 
-
When you hit submit on your report you feel good but stressed. 
What usually takes you an hour and a half to get done, took you twice as long because reports have been so slow during the off-season that you wanted to get it perfect before the opening match. Stretching, you make your way into the kitchen. 
You’re sure half the worry was unnecessary and the other half was about impressing your boss. God knows you need that woman to be pleased with something you do this year. 
Your phone rings before you can give in to that anxiety inducing thought, your stomach pits and the cup of tea you had to your lips lower. “This is Y/n.” 
“Hi, I want to talk about the interview you just submitted,” Your boss is a bit of a hardass. She’s always harping about things being ‘perfect’ and stories being complete, so in the two years you’ve worked there, though you’ve climbed to higher and higher positions, you’re still the fresh and sort of peppy girl you were to her when you’d handed in your resume and appeared in her office in a blue suit. 
“Sure,” you set down the tea and open your laptop, ready for a slew of changes or to change whatever she wanted you to. 
“It’s great,” that’s high praise, yet you sense something in her tone. You’re almost certain she’s going to make you rewrite the entire thing to make the opening game of the season, a derby game no less, seem even more anticipated than it already is. “I just want you to add a little more about the history of both teams. Potter’s already brought in an influx of new fans, we want to make it easy for them to get into the season and get behind either team and feel the rivalry.” 
That’s not what you’d been expecting. Not what you were expecting in the least. 
“I’ll resubmit tonight by eight.” is what you say but inside you’re twirling and jumping around your apartment while morning sun streaks through your living and early 2000s pop music is blasting through the house. 
James Potter and his non-answers be damned, you just got the best compliment of your work life.
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aithusarosekiller · 2 days
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James is absolutely the friend who gets lost in big crowds because he gets distracted and has to grab someone's hand to make sure he is still following them
Everyone has a different reaction to it tho
If it's just him and Peter or Marlene he's fucked because they get distracted even more than him so they all end up lost
Lily and Remus are the best for it because they will not let go at all
Mary forgets he's holding her hand sometimes and accidentally lets go
Evan and Dorcas both try to avoid standing closest to him bc they don't like holding hands but that doesn't stop him from grabbing their bags to keep up anyway
Pandora and Barty were shocked the first time he did it but got used to it and absolutely start swinging their hands around
More often than not you'll see him grinning while he walks around holding both of the black brother's hands as they both try to keep him on track (they're his favourites, what do you expect)?
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crazyyluvr · 2 days
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Dealing With the Problem = Breaking the Problem’s Nose
pairing: remus lupin x slytherin!reader
summary: You punched another student because he was annoying. Not because you were defending Remus Lupin. Totally not.
genre: crushing, fluff?, kind of enemies to lovers but not really (reader hates Remus but Remus likes reader), sunshine x grumpy trope?
wc: 2.1k
content: reader can throw a punch, gn!reader, there’s a fight, a lot of cursing, remus gets insulted, remus is a simp fr, reader is very... salty? idk how to describe them.
note: woah, two posts in one day? so rare. I wrote this without any particular idea in mind, but I want to show my appreciation for Remus, because we love Remus <3
oneshot under the cut :: not proofread
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Remus Lupin was interesting.
He was not like his other friends; he was quiet, more reserved than them. The Marauders were the heartthrobs of Hogwarts, and Remus Lupin had his own group of “fans” that found his certain allure appealing.
You hated him.
The times when you would had the unfortunate requirement to talk to him, he was infuriating. He would send that damned smirk of his your way even when you were obviously about to blow a fuse. He would use those annoyingly smooth pickup lines on you when you were literally insulting him. He compliments you and uses pet names on you that makes other people do a double take on you from how he treated you like you two were dating.
He may have been the quieter one among his friends (besides Peter of course), but he could act as embarrassingly as Potter and Black do.
You were going to kill him someday. If he doesn’t kill you first with his smooth words and soft gaze.
As much as you hate him, your body betrays you. All the time.
Your cheeks flush when he compliments you. Your knees go weak when he calls you dove. Your brain lags when he uses one of his pickup lines that you never seem to predict.
The reactions were out of your control. I mean, if anyone else treated you the way Lupin treated you, you’d probably act the same.
Right?
Wrong, because you hate everyone besides your friends in Slytherin, no matter how kind they act towards you. Lupin just happened to take a page out of your house’s mascot and slither through your walls to become an exception.
Wrong, because you never would have punched someone purely out of instinct after a particularly horrible insult.
You were disappointed in yourself. You were doing well in restraining your anger during the past few years in Hogwarts, so why did you have to snap now out of all times?
No matter how annoyed you were at yourself, it couldn’t overpower the satisfaction you got from finally shutting Avery up.
So, how did it happen?
Let’s rewind.
—————
You were taking a stroll in the grass with Barty, who was always willing to accompany you on your spontaneous walks. The two of you were just talking about people you particularly hated in Hogwarts until you came across the two that placed particularly high on both your lists: Avery and Snape.
Being in the same house as the two vermin didn’t make you or Barty dislike them any less, especially you. You were one of the precious few halfbloods in Slytherin, and they never failed to insult you about it.
You didn’t care about blood statuses, though. But that didn’t matter do them.
They targeted you constantly, picking on you, tripping you in the hallway, spilling drinks on your back, and other petty things.
You always bit back with your words. You knew that if you tried to deal with it physically, you might be expelled from the school for violence.
Thank goodness Pandora, Barty, and Regulus ere always there to restrain you. Especially Barty. He was your closest friend, and although he wanted to beat them up himself, he didn’t want you getting in trouble.
Today seemed to be an exception.
“Oh, speaking of,” you cut Barty off, your gaze souring as you caught sight of the two you were just ranting about.
Barty followed your gaze, his lip curling in disgust. They were crowded over someone, but the tree beside them obscured your view of the victim. They seemed to be enjoying themselves, laughing wickedly and pushing the person.
“Are we going?” Barty knew you well. He knew you were going to do something about it. He just hoped that you were going to use your words instead of your fists, because he hasn't finished his strategy on how to hide bodies in school just yet.
“Unfortunately,” you sighed, picking up your pace, Barty a few feet behind you to give you space. You may hate everyone in school, but not enough to leave them in the clutches of people like Snape and Avery.
“What kind of fucked up entertainment did you two idiots decide to do today?” You called, making the two turn your way.
“Ah, just the person we were talking about,” Avery sneered. “What do you want now? You here to check up on your boyfriend?”
You furrowed your brows in confusion. You stepped to the side a little and groaned internally when you saw who Snape and Avery’s target was today: Remus Lupin.
His face was contorted in anger, his clenched fists peeking out from his slightly oversized sweater. Whatever Snape and Avery were teasing him about must have really struck a nerve in him.
“Leave them out of this,” he warned.
“What’re you going to do about it, huh?” Snape taunted him, approaching you. “C’mon loverboy. Not so strong now that your bodyguards aren’t here, ain’t that right?”
“Why don’t you boys take a break from being dickheads, yeah?” You said, testing out the chance of a diplomatic ending. “Go find some other place to dump your bullshit on, preferably the greenhouses. They could use the fertilizer.”
Avery made a beeline towards you, partially shoving Snape out of his way to grab your collar and pull you toward him. He was practically steaming.
Diplomacy was out the window, I suppose.
Barty a step towards you, as did Remus, but Snape stopped the lanky boy and you put your hand up to make Barty pause. You could handle yourself.
“You wanna say that again, bitch?” Avery seethed.
You had to restrain yourself from puking in his face after you felt drops of his saliva hit your cheeks, but you stood your ground. “I said you’re full of shit. Did some of it get in your ears or something?”
Avery looked like he wanted to hit you, but instead he leaned in your ear. You cringed at the lack of distance, but it quickly morphed into something else as he whispered, “You wouldn’t be barking as much if you let your ugly ass boytoy do the talking for you. He’s the one better with words, eh? Bet he uses them so you would want to fuck him. Tell me, is his dick as deformed as his face is?”
Avery never got his response as you reeled your fist back and let it fly, making direct contact with his nose with a satisfying crack.
—————
“I don’t believe it,” Madame Pomfrey tsked in disappointment, dabbing a paste on the bruise around your eye. You had to suppress a wince, since the rest of your body was too sore. “You should know better than to start a brawl in the courtyard.”
“They had it coming,” you muttered, making the nurse dab with a little more force than necessary. “Ouch.”
"You could have sustained worse injuries than this, stupid child!" She scolded, like a mother reprimanding a disobedient child. And like a disappointed child, you stayed silent and hung your head in slight guilt.
Only slight guilt because you still firmly believed that the two idiots had it coming to them.
You heard a moan of pain, and you could have sworn that you saw Madame Pomfrey roll her eyes. "You don't have that much severe injuries, so I'll check up on you in a while after I treat Mr. Snape and Mr. Avery."
You nodded. Before leaving, the nurse turned to Remus Lupin, who was icing a bruise on his cheek on the cot beside yours. "Watch over them, and after a few minutes, apply ice to their bruises," she instructed, and the Gryffindor nodded.
"Treasure, how're you doing?" Barty called from his cot across from you. He had sprained his ankle from kicking Snape hard in the nuts, and although he winced in pain occasionally when he moved, his grin told you that he didn't regret what he did.
"I'm okay B," you replied, grimacing slightly as one of the pulled muscles on your back acted up.
Remus noticed your flinch, and approached you worriedly. He was better off than you and Barty, the bruise on his face the only thing that he obtained from the fight. "Are you sure?" He asked, concerned. You didn't like how soft his eyes were as he gazed at you, or how your chest squeezed slightly at his worry.
"I'm fine, Lupin," you quipped, although your voice lacked its usual venom.
Remus hummed, unconvinced. He turned to the bedside and grabbed the ice that Madame Pomfrey left for you and held it out for you to grab.
You scoffed. "I said I'm fine. No need to baby me."
Remus rolled his eyes slightly. "And I don't believe you. Besides, the nurse said to ice your bruise after a few minutes. A few minutes has already passed, and frankly, she can do more damage to me than you can in this state."
You grumbled, turning your head. Your pride made you stubborn, as it did to many, but thank goodness Remus Lupin has had training in dealing with prideful companions.
He closed in on you, holding your face by the chin and tilting it towards him. You tried to fight back, but his grip was firm, so you simply sighed and resigned your fate. You could only hope that the observant boy didn't notice the warmth on your cheeks.
He gently placed the ice on your eye.
"Sorry," He murmured when you hissed at the sudden cold.
You purposefully averted your gaze from him, eyes fixated on the wheels of another cot.
That didn't stop you from spotting Remus's fixated stare on you from your periphery.
"Stop looking at me like that, Lupin," You spat, still refusing to make direct eye contact with him. "What do you want?"
"Why did you punch Avery?" He asked, finally making your eyes snap up to him. "He said something that provoked you. What did he say?"
You scoffed. "The usual bullshit that comes out of his mouth."
"I heard that."
"Fuck off," you called to the curtained cot where Avery currently resided. Madame Pomfrey hushed you disapprovingly form behind the curtains.
"I don't think that's true," Remus said, eyes narrowed as he studied you like a problem he couldn't solve, an enigma he wanted to understand.
You looked at him in silence for a moment, before heaving a sigh and looking away again. "He insulted you," you mumbled, words faint and hard to decipher, but Remus got the general meaning.
Well, judging from his grin, he got the general meaning.
"What did you say?" He asked. You looked at him, offended. Remus Lupin was teasing you.
"Clean your ears next time, Lupin," you shot a glare at him, but it didn't have as much heat behind it as you would have wanted.
"Nope, don't try to escape from this," he chuckled, using his hand on your chin to make your visible eye make contact with his brown ones again. "What did you say, dove?"
You groaned. You absolutely loved hated the effect this boy had on you.
"He insulted you, Lupin," You snapped, cheeks blazing at this point. "Happy?"
Remus's playful expression melted into one of disbelief. "You punched him because... he insulted me?"
"Salazar, you really are deaf," you rolled your eyes. "That's what I said, isn't it?"
Remus seemed to still not be able to wrap his head around the idea. You, the person he's been pining over the past few months, defended him. And got hurt because of it.
"I'm sorry," he said, his voice sincere.
Your brows furrowed in confusion. "What are you apologizing for? I started that fight with my own free will, and they deserved every cut and bruise they received."
"Amen," Barty replied. He was obviously eavesdropping on your conversation, and you couldn't say that you were surprised.
"But still." His lips tilted downwards along with his gaze. Salazar give me strength, he's pouting. "You were dragged into it when they were picking on me. I could have —"
"Yes, there are many things that you could have done, but you can't reverse time to do them now, Lupin," You said severely. "I don't need you apologizing for things I don't regret doing."
Remus looked up at you hopefully. "You don't regret defending me?"
You blinked, realizing the implications your words gave off. You played it off with a huff. "Whatever."
"You didn't deny it," Remus teased, a small smile on his face. He still felt guilty that you were hurt because you were defending him, but you didn't regret it. That had to count for something.
"Whatever, Lupin."
"Call me Remus."
"No."
"Please."
"Absolutely not."
"Dove?"
"... Fine, Remus."
"Heh, I knew you liked me."
"What — I never said I did!"
"But you never said you didn't."
"I —"
A retching noise was heard. "Ugh, your lovey-doveyness is making me sick."
"Shut up, Barty!"
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batszboo · 2 days
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Reggie and Sirius
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moonstruckme · 2 days
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james x shy!reader first time?🤭🤭🤭🤭
Thanks for requesting!
cw: smut mndi
James Potter x shy!reader ♡ 908 words
James almost feels bad about the mark he’s surely leaving on your tit, but your hands are encouraging on his back and he’s yet to learn how to deny you anything you want. 
He can feel your heartbeat in his mouth as he sucks and teases your skin. It speeds up when he lets his teeth scrape lightly. Your breathing falters. 
James can’t help himself; he grins. “That’s it,” he coaxes. “Don’t be shy, angel, let me know what’s good, yeah?” 
Your reply comes soft and surprisingly teasing. “I think you already know.” 
A little laugh startles out of him, and he looks up in time to see your small smile. That smile is going to get James in trouble. 
“How’re you feeling, baby?” He runs his palms up and down your sides comfortingly. Your top half is bare, your shirt balled up and tossed into the hamper, but you’re still in your pants. “Are you ready?” 
You rub your lips together, showing your nerves. “Yeah.” You nod. James kisses you softly to try and settle you. “I’m ready.” 
“Okay. I’m gonna take care of you, okay?” You nod again, looking a bit more sure this time. He smiles at you. “Can I take these off?” 
You hum. “Please,” you say, lifting your head and reaching for the button of your pants. 
James bats your hands away, nipping playfully at the underside of your jaw as he undoes them himself and then easing them down over the curve of your hips. You sit up on your elbows to watch him. Underneath, you’ve got on a pair of underwear that’s prettier than anything James has ever seen (present company excluded). He can’t take his eyes off them as he tugs your pants the rest of the way off. 
“Sweetheart.” James is delighted. “Did you wear these for me?” 
You look like you’re contemplating smothering yourself with your pillow. “Yeah,” you murmur, not looking at him.
He plants a heavy, smacking kiss on your cheek. It’s burning hot under his lips. “You’re fucking adorable,” he says, running a finger over the waistband. “I almost don’t want to take them off.” 
“Please do,” you say in a hurry. 
Something frightening close to a giggle bubbles up in James’ chest. He’s continually surprised by your bouts of boldness. 
“Whatever you say, angel.” He gets his fingers under the pretty fabric, and they join the rest of your clothes in the hamper. 
It’s not the first time you’ve been exposed to him like this, but you never seem to get used to it. James can hardly blame you; he hasn’t either. He stares openly while you cover your face with your arms, taking one of your thighs in each hand and easing them open. 
“My shy girl, all ready for me,” he coos, dragging two fingers through your slickened folds. “Fuck, I wish you could see yourself, baby, you look so pretty. Probably won’t take long at all to get you ready for me, huh?” 
He looks up, but you’re still hiding under your arms. 
When no response comes, he hums, “Or, maybe I could take my time—” 
“Jamie.” Your voice is quiet and frail, directed towards the ceiling like a prayer. “Please.” 
“Okay.” He laughs, hands moving back up you until they’re clasped around your wrists. “Okay, I’m sorry. I won’t play with you too much, just don’t hide from me, please?” 
James gives only the slightest tug, but you move your arms of your own volition, peering up at him warily. 
“Good girl, thank you.” He rewards you with a kiss, his hand sneaking back down between your legs. 
Your lips part in a silent gasp as his thick fingers broach your entrance, and James slips his tongue into your mouth, cock aching at the tightness of you. His other hand finds your tit. Your gummy walls constrict on his digits, and he swallows a groan. 
“Fuck, angel.” He slips in a third finger, the fit easy when you’re already so worked up. “S’like you’re sucking me in.” 
Your head falls back against the pillows, but James doesn’t hold your lack of reply against you. He finger fucks you deep and slow, curling his digits every now and again in search of that sensitive spot on your front wall. Your cunt is weeping now, wetness slipping out of you and pooling on the sheets. 
When James sets his lips to your clit, you make the sort of breathy, desperate sound he knows will echo in his dreams for the next week. 
One of your hands burrows in his hair. He spurs you on by bullying the small bead, licking and sucking until he can feel that telltale trembling of your thighs. He lifts his head, and you look relieved. 
“I’m ready,” you say through soft pants, braver now that James has wound you up so tightly. “I think I can take—” 
You cut yourself off as he spreads his fingers inside you, testing the fit and hoping to numb you out in the process. 
“Sorry, angel,” he says. “That feel okay?” 
“Yes.” You nod, urgent. “Yeah, Jamie, can you—can you please—” 
James placates you with a soft kiss to your jaw, soothing his slick-soaked hand over your hip as he undoes his pants with the other. 
“Someday,” he promises, “we’re gonna find out what happens when you don’t get your way. But for now I’ll give you whatever you want, sweetheart.”
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comfort - @jegulus-microfic - word count: 267
"Jamie!"
Regulus's distressed voice greeted James as he walked through the door, the shorter man folding easily into James's embrace, burying his face into James's shoulder, his wavy black hair brushing against his chin.
It was all James could do to resist melting. He had to physically stop himself from yelling out, from asking who hurt the love of his life this way, from setting fire to the whole damn Earth if only to gain revenge on whoever had made Regulus this upset. But before he could calmly enquire about who he needed to murder, a voice rang down the hall.
"Oh no," Sirius shouted, appearing around the corner, looking living. "Don't you dare comfort him! Not after he stole-"
"I didn't steal anything!" Regulus shrieked, turning to his brother, suddenly looking much less sad and much more ferocious. "You left it here, and I didn't touch it, and even if I did, it would have gone bad-"
"You still had no right-" Sirius cut in, throwing his hands down, balling them into fists.
"Hey, hey, hey," James interrupted nervously. "What's this about?"
"My pie!" Sirius screamed, exasperatedly. "Regulus ate it!"
But James's stomach turned to lead as he realized. "Did you, perhaps, leave it here on Friday?"
"Yes!" Sirius nodded, eyes flashing. "And now it's gone!"
"Erm, Pads..." James mumbled, preparing himself to run. "I may have..."
But now two pairs of gray eyes were on him, one set sparkling with humor, the other furious.
"Sorry?"
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james and remus watching sirius and regulus fight because one stared at the other for a bit too long.
james: i don’t get why those two are so angry all the damn time.
remus: short people are closer to hell.
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not-rab · 17 hours
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Regulus: Hello?
James: It’s James!
Regulus: What’d he do this time?
James: No love, it’s me, James
Regulus: Oh
Regulus: What’d you do this time?
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