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kquil · 1 month

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POLY MARAUDERS | HEROES IN TATTOOS PRT.7

07 : APOLOGIES & COMFORT

CHPT. SUM. : sirius and remus are both very stubborn and need you to help them make amends, thankfully james is there

REQUEST. : could i request a hurt/comfort blurb with poly!marauders in the heroes in tattoos series where r is having really bad cramps and they comfort her- maybe when they're busy with clients and she doesn't want to disturb them but they notice? - requested by an anon (i had to make some tweaks, i hope you don't mind, my darling)

TAGS. : modern au, muggle au, tattoo artist!sirius black ; tattoo artist!james potter ; piercer!remus lupin ; hurt/comfort ; fluff ; mvp james ; james becomes a menace though so is he really the mvp? ; wolfstar fluff ; making up ; reader is also an mvp ; accidents happen ; period things~ ; remus is on the brink ; somebody save this man! ; no! somebody save reader from this man! ; assumes that reader does not take medication to regulate her periods ; assumes that reader wears sanitary pads for her periods

LENGTH : 4.3k

← PREV. : 06 | SELFISH DESIRES | SERIES M.LIST

“Sirius…” Remus sighs as he sits across from you and the man in question.

“If you have a problem, I hope you know that I don’t care,” you feel the tattooist smirk against your temple as he presses another searing kiss into your skin. The tension from the room hasn’t fully dissipated yet, however, most of the fiction was swept aside leaving the air clear enough for a more civil conversation.

With Sirius’ insistence, you were left no choice but to sit in his lap as Remus sits across from you. This left James to sit all on his lonesome, occupying the grandfather chair to your left as a warm smile reveals his asymmetrical dimple, directed solely at you.

Remus groans in frustration and stands to his full height in order to pull his sleeveless sweater off. Sirius peppers light kisses along the column of your neck but it isn’t quite enough to distract you from the image of Remus undoing the top buttons of his button-up shirt nor the way he rolls up the sleeves to his elbows - a weak attempt at trying to cool down from the heat of the previous encounter.

You’re tempted to look down once again but are too embarrassed to do so; the images that pervade your mind are too inappropriate and they taint the gentle and kind image you have of Remus… Although, maybe that isn’t too bad. A gentle giant masking an indelicate second face was quite attractive in your eyes. Maybe he’ll finally suit the rouge-ish image that comes to mind when you take in his many tattoos, which were often suppressed by his soft, dark academia-inspired fashion.

Massaging away some of the tension in his taut wrists, his large and veiny hands on full display, Remus sits back down with a frown, “This is a fucking mess—”

“—you’re a fucking mess,” Sirius shoots back, a mischievous hint in his tone as the heat in your cheeks continue to increase until you’re positive you have steam steadily rising out of your ears.

“This is serious, Sirius,” Remus calls his name almost mockingly and the icy stare Sirius sends him in return is so icy you feel the chill run down your spine without having to look.

“Oh, I am serious, don’t you know who I am?” before the tension could rise to dangerous levels again, you launch yourself off of Sirius’ lap, willing the butterflies from your stomach away and suppressing all imagery of the affection Sirius was just drowning you. It was his attempt at distracting you from the tense situation but you’re fed up of it now. It also breaks your heart seeing them like this when you know their true affections for one another.

“That’s enough!” you stand as strong as the finality ringing in your statement, “you two need to make up!” Remus and Sirius face the point of your accusing finger with disgruntled expressions, “I thought you two loved each other,” your disappointed tone makes their shoulders sag in shame and their eyes avoid one another’s.

“Dove, please—”

“—Listen…” the careful intonation in your voice doesn’t go unnoticed and wills them to hear you out with care, lips sealed shut, “you were both right — you both had good reason to act the way you did and I can’t blame either of you for wanting to steer things into a certain direction but I’m also to blame for this, okay? I was horrible at communicating my true emotions and that led to a lot of unnecessary heartache on both sides,” with a deep breath, you establish your resolve, “can’t we all just make up and move forward together?” everyone in the room knows that when you said ‘we’, what you really meant was just Remus and Sirius.

James has been an absolute angel throughout all of this, collateral damage to their bickering and unloving behaviour towards each other; stuck between a rock and a hard place. You only have sympathy for him being caught up in the middle of it all.

“Dove, it’s not—”

You swiftly interrupt, “I love all of you,” your confession makes them all stutter and flush pink in the cheeks. It’s an image that makes you smile warmly just before insecurity creeps over and your smile turns shy, “don’t… don’t you love me too?…” it was now clear in their actions that they reciprocated your romantic affections and so you weren’t wrong to assume that they wanted you to take part in their relationship…right?

The drawn out silence that followed was too much for you to bear. Even after taking some of the blame off their shoulders and confessing your love, they were still too stubborn to admit their wrongs and make up. Huffing, you make your disappointment and frustrations known with a deep frown, thoroughly concealing your heartache from their silence .

“We just need—” Sirius finally begins, stubborn as ever, only to be glared at harshly by both, Remus and James. This was not the right time for excuses. You had just worded your true feelings for them and they needed to reciprocate in kind. But those words were hard to come by, the timing for a confession also wasn’t ideal for the moment. Then again, when would it ever be. They’ve all just proven how incompetent they were at emotions despite being in such a loving relationship, and yet, you were still willing to accept and be with them romantically. The words they have for you reached beyond that of just love; they were also grateful, astonished and embarrassed for their incompetence.

“I love you too, angel, so so much,” James finally speaks up, eyes bright and his smile warm with his adoration of you. He ignores the high tension in the room, eyes fixed solely on you as he glowed like the summer sun but he doesn’t reach out for you in any way, he simply sits and admires. Admires how beautiful you look, admires how strong you are, admires how loving and sweet you remain despite all the trouble and anguish they’ve put you through.

You feel the world disappear around you and narrow your focus onto the only person you were grateful for in the room at that moment. Year heart pounds with warmth and devotion and all you want to do is be close to him. Helping yourself into James’ lap, you smile up at the bewildered look on this handsome face, “Oh James, you’re my only saving grace,”

James smiles at your words as his arms wrap around your waist, securing you in place, “yeah?” his voice is a faint whisper and airy with his adoration for you.

“Yeah,” reaching up, your arms wrap around his neck and pull him close so you can press your face under his chin. Behind you, you feel the baffled attention of Sirius and Remus, “how about I feed you some lunch again? Like we always used to do?”

Without waiting for an answer, you lean over to swipe up one of your lunch containers and proceed to feed him, completely ignoring the grumbling and whining emitting from Sirius and Remus.

“I like your thinking, angel,” James giggles adorably and happily accepts your affections as the two of you silently agree to ignore the other two until they make up. In the mean time, you’ll enjoy each other’s company in your own little bubble of love.

“How does it taste?” you ask sweetly, blatantly ignoring Remus and Sirius, sitting side-ways on James’ lap but keeping your full attention on him.

“Delicious! More than delicious!” James exaggerates and basks in the bell-like giggles he draws from you, he doesn’t want the sound to ever stop, “You’re always such a great cook, angel!”

“I made it all with love, just for you, Jamie~”

He hums low and appreciative, “I’m so fucking lucky, aren’t I?”

As you continue to feed him, James takes the opportunity to look over your shoulder and smirk at the miserable faces of his two lovers. They know they deserved this unfair treatment. They also know that, to remedy it, all they have to do is abandon their pride and apologise, which is always worth it when your love is on the line — it should be easy for them. All things considered, this was just light punishment.

Faced with only one solution, Remus and Sirius turn to each other. Sirius still grumbles under his breath as Remus sighs. The brunette accepts that it was entirely his fault for pushing Sirius to suppress his natural way of loving just for his own personal fear that things would turn out horribly, otherwise. And judging from the way Sirius avoids his eyes and continues to whine, Remus knows it’s up to him to make amends.

‘But it’s not so bad’, Remus smiles to himself; seeing one of his beloved partners grumpy and stubborn was oddly charming. And now that most of the conflict has dissolved, Remus had no other reason to hold back an apology other than for his own personal pride.

Making his way over, Remus kneels down beside his grumbling lover and whispers his name affectionately, “Sirius,” Remus waits, patient and unhurried, until his beloved in question finally looks at him. As soon as they meet eyes, Remus is left thinking the same devoted thought he’s always had when drowning in his boyfriend’s diamond-grey eyes, ‘how did I get so lucky?’ which is then quickly followed by a guilty, ‘why did I ever let it get this far?’

“Remus,”

“I’m sorry,” the piercer doesn’t wait for a response and, almost desperately, leans up to capture Sirius’ lips. The kiss is filled with emotions, a mix of sincerity, love and forgiveness. The sentiments were so keen they almost smother the murmured, unspoken words on Sirius’ tongue, “what was that, love?” Remus asks against his lover’s lips, unable to pull away fully. He missed this…

“I’m sorry too…”

It was a unanimous decision to have you spend the night at the boys’ shared flat. They’ve been kept away from you for too long and tonight they wanted to make up for lost time. High on emotions and desperately missing their presence in your life too, you agree as long as you dropped by your place first for a change of clothes. But not before having Remus and Sirius apologise to James for their neglect of him.

“You know, we really are so happy to have you in our lives, dollface,” Sirius utters, leaving feathery kisses on your lips as he pushes the door to their flat open whilst carrying your duffle bag for you. He was kind enough to take you to and from your flat on his motorcycle just for the quick collection of your night time essentials.

“I’m happy you’re in my life too, Siri,” the situation has finally dawned on you but you still can’t believe the events that have lead you to this very moment.

“Stop hogging her, Padfoot!” James whines, sweeping you off your feet and hurrying to the living room with you in his arms. Once there, he sits you on his lap triumphantly, “Aha! You’re finally mine!” he cheers and attacks your neck with a flourish of kisses, tickling you and infecting the air with your melodic giggles.

“Now you’re hogging her Prongs, stop being a hypocrite!” Sirius pants lightly after rushing to the scene from the hallway, a grin plastered on his lips despite his accusing words.

From the kitchen, Remus smiles to himself at the sounds of merriment in the air and continues to cook dinner.

This is how it should be…

Remus wanted to sort the conflict with Sirius out more, so he insisted that you spend the night in James’ bed which you happily agree shyly, James grinning widely at your side. All three of you agree as Sirius whines and makes adorable grabbing motions at you but it’s no use as Remus keeps the tattooist pressed tightly against his side, dragging him off and trapping him in his room for the night. The sight made you giggle but it was a brief reprieve from the anxious nerves that soon had you avoiding James’ eyes.

“You’re so cute,” James whispers affectionately at your shy behaviour, resisting the urge to kiss you as he leads you to his room and gestures to his en suite, “you can change in there, beautiful, I can change out here and brush my teeth at the kitchen sink instead,”

With a small smile, you move past him with your duffle, eager to get ready for bed but squeal in surprise when you feel a teasing pinch at your ass. An explosion of heat blooms across your cheeks when you glance over your shoulder and observe James’ sly wink and devious smirk directed at you.

“James—!”

“Angel with a cutest ass, aren’t I a lucky bastard?” he chuckles and presses a devoted, almost possessive, kiss onto your lips, “I never did say thank you for making those two apologise to me,” he purrs and nips at your bottom lip, “you make me feel seen…god, I love you so much,” you squeak into the fierce kiss that follows, almost losing yourself in the embrace but pry yourself away with a squeal when his hands travel too low and squeeze greedily at your ass.

You rush into the bathroom with butterflies in your stomach as James licks his lips and laughs merrily. He’s come to love teasing you and you didn’t know whether to argue or welcome it with open arms. Shaking the thoughts out of your head, you move on to change into your pyjamas - an oversized shirt and shorts - before proceeding with your night time skincare routine. For a moment, you contemplated taking a shower but rule against it, not wanting to prolong your night time routine. No more than fifteen minutes later, you were out of the en suite bathroom feeling refreshed and ready for bed but giggle at the sight of James already tucked under the covers. He looks so cosy and innocent, it almost makes you forget about his devious behaviour earlier on.

“All ready?” James asks with his usual boyish grin and sits up, allowing the covers to drop from his chest, at which point you quickly realise that James is a liar. He didn’t need to change into anything! All he did was take off his shirt and he was all set for bed! “I changed into comfier pyjama pants, though,” he argues lightly as you slip into the right side of the bed.

“That’s just half changing!” your retort has him laughing aloud, your flustered state beyond amusing and incredibly adorable in his eyes.

“Am I making you shy, princess?~”

“…No,”

“Oh yes I am~”

“Go to sleep, James,”

“Not without a goodnight kiss from my angel,” he leans over you with his naked chest on full display and you stutter in embarrassment, “don’t be shy, come and give me a fat smooch~” he puckers his lips above you and awaits your compliance with closed eyes.

“James—”

“I’m a very patient man, darling, I can do this all night long,”

“No you’re not,”

“Yes I am,”

“You’re not,”

“I am,”

“Not!”

He finally peaks an eye open. Then slowly opens both eyes as he un-puckers his lips to smirk down at you, caged in between his muscular arms as he props himself up with his elbows, “You just like staring at my beautifully muscular chest don’t you?” you watch as his ego inflates to dangerous levels right in front of you, “My tattoos turn you on too, angel?~”

“Oh for goodness sake!” you finally relent and lean upwards, your smile matching his own when you finally capture his lips in his much desired, goodnight kiss. With one arm holding himself up, James uses his spare hand to hold your face in place, prolonging the kiss. You have no choice but to accept his needy demands as your hand searches his bedside table for his lamp switch.

Morning comes with you groaning in discomfort as a syrupy wetness coats your inner thighs and painful pangs make you want to curl up into a ball. Your bleary morning fog makes the situation difficult to decipher but the realisation soon comes crashing down like a landslide and you lift the covers with a scream, the scent of iron becoming more potent. Beside you, James jumps awake, fully alert as his worried, hazel eyes scan you, trying to discern what may be the problem.

“What’s wrong, angel?” he asks, voice deep and groggy with sleep but dripping in concern.

“James, I’m so sorry,” you sob into your hands and curl up into yourself, hiding your face away from him.

“What do you mean?” he reaches forward, inching closer to you in the process and quickly realising what’s wrong when he feels an unusual wetness seep through his thin pyjama pants, “oh angel, don’t be upset, it’s okay,” he coos, gently prying your hands away from your face so he can kiss your forehead tenderly, “it’s normal. Are you okay?” he asks softly, looking over you without an ounce of judgement or anger on his face, only concern and soft, kind, heart-fluttering love in his eyes.

“Th-the blood—”

“I don’t care about the blood,” he insists gently, “I just want to make sure that you’re okay,” you remain silent from the embarrassment but he’s understanding, “do you want me to get you some painkillers?”

As soon as you give an affirming nod, he’s out of bed and hurrying down the hall. It doesn’t take very long for him to come back to you, a glass of water in one hand and a pack of painkillers in the other.

“Thank you,” you finally utter with a small smile, still upset at having ruined the sheets but so incredibly grateful for his tolerance. Patiently, he waits for you to take your dosage before he’s sweeping you up in his arms and carrying you into his en suite.

“Get cleaned up, angel,” he voices into you hair before placing you back on your feet, “I’ll change the sheets in the mean time,” he leaves you with a kiss before you could utter another word of apology. He wasn’t going to take it, he made that very clear, because it wasn’t your fault. And it was nothing a little oxi stain remover couldn’t fix.

The start to the day wasn’t ideal but James, Remus and Sirius made one of the most agonising and frustrating times of the month for you much more enjoyable. James woke his two lovers up while you were showering in his bathroom, thanking your lucky stars that you bought a spare change of clothes just in case you wanted to shower, and they all made the effort of getting you comfortable.

James changed his bedsheets and laid a dark coloured towel down for you to lay on top of just to catch any more potential leakage. He made sure you didn’t see his bloodied sheets again too so that you wouldn’t continue feeling guilty and happily took care of the stains away from your line of sight. Sirius worked on breakfast as Remus made you some tea and a hot water bottle and, before James steps out of the flat to buy you period pads, you hear Remus call out helpfully, “look for the long, heavy flow pads and make sure to get the ones with wings,” their thoughtfulness makes you smile.

“How did you know to get these ones?” you ask when James comes back, panting as he hands you the pack of pads through the door of his en suite.

“Remus told me, and I heard girls experience heavier flows on the first few days,” his answer draws out a proud smile. You have no doubt you’d be well taken care of in this relationship, though it does make you bashful.

“Thank you, James,”

For breakfast Sirius cooked you french toast with strawberries and honey, apparently it was the only good thing he could cook. Remus balanced the sweetness of the meal out with some eggs and toast, while James brought over the tea and hot water bottle Remus had also prepared. Breakfast was pleasant but they boys were insistent that you stay in James’ bed and call if you needed anything. As much as they wanted to spend the full day right by your side, they were preparing to make the announcement of returning their business into full operations and were still taking calls and responding to client emails at home. You didn’t argue, you knew the shop was important to them so you didn’t want to be a burden.

The day drags by and you know they’ve made it clear that you could freely call out to them whenever but the hours drag by and they haven’t heard a single peep. They didn’t mean to lose their full attention in their work; it’s been so long since they were last filled with the motivation to keep up with their business that emails and paperwork on equipment orders had piled up significantly so they were swamped. Thankfully they were finally inspired enough that the work didn’t feel laborious. Unfortunately, that meant seeing them in their element though James’ open doorway and shying away from redirecting their attention back to you.

It wasn’t until you willed yourself to walk to their kitchen that you finally caught their attention. All phone calls, email responses and paperwork filing was stopped as soon as you stepped into their line of sight when your craving for a snack became too much. They had gone for a quick shop to buy you an array of snacks from sweet to savoury that morning and had left the bag on their kitchen counter. You were just reaching for the bag when Remus caught your wrist and swept you up into his arms in order to carry you back into James’ bed.

All three of them felt incredibly guilty for having neglected you, unintentional or not, they even neglected themselves in the process by prioritising their work and forgetting about lunch. In Remus’ head, everything circled back to the night before as a chain of linked events. As you laid in bed, curled up and nibbling on a chocolate bar, you watch and listen as Remus scolds the two about how, if the outburst didn’t happen, they wouldn’t have asked you to stay the night, you wouldn’t have agreed and you wouldn’t have had to suffer from their incompetent care. Remus was being too hard on himself, which reflected directly onto Sirius and James.

“This is why I said we needed to be careful and. To. Be. Patient,” Remus snarls under his breath, almost growling at Sirius and James who stand at the foot of the bed. James nods with a disappointed sigh as Sirius crosses his arms and huffs in defiance. They’re developing a bad habit of speaking about you when you’re still in the same room but, at least, it means their thoughts are open to you.

“I didn’t see you complain when you watched James and I practically devouring her sweet little mouth yesterday,” Sirius’ challenging comment makes the tips of James’s ears turn visibly pink as an embarrassing heat climbs up your neck to bloom across the apples of your cheeks. Interestingly, James can barks and bites to his heart’s content with you but if anybody else brings it up, it seems that bashfulness isn’t far behind.

Remus shakes his head and pinches the bridge of his nose, “don’t start now, Sirius—”

“—I-I don’t mind, we’re all learning to love together and I know how important the tattoo parlour is to all of you so I really don’t mind…” you interrupt their bickering with flushed cheeks and shy eyes, unprepared for the reaction you would receive.

Remus snaps his full attention towards you in that moment. Your words were innocent and you look the picture of virtue, shy and sweet as you peer up at them with glittering doe eyes and a small smile. Remus doesn’t think anybody else could be more beautiful than you right now. You appreciate his passions, you support it even, you’re understanding, you’re kind, you’re loving, you’re sweet and you’re so incredibly lovable, he wants to keep you away from the rest of the world forever, selfishly keeping you for himself. He wonders if you know how much of a tease you’ve been to him this whole, working him up over and over and over again until he finally snaps.

Morals and patience be damned — he can’t resist you anymore.

Remus’ face carries an unreadable expression as he gives a slow exhale and strides over to you. Sirius and James watch from where they stood, unmoving but with sly smiles on their lips — they know you’re the perfect image of Remus’ weaknesses bundled into one being and they both knew this was coming. It was about time… they applaud him though, he has more patience than them — but he had more desires too.

It all happens too fast for you to register but Remus was quickly looming over you, propped up by a hand on the bed as his other gripped at your chin. His eyes were piercing and held such promise within them, un-breaking and passionate, that you couldn’t look away.

“Don’t tempt me, beautiful girl,” his voice lowers several octaves and is underpinned by a hypnotising vibration that corrupts your limbs with minor tremors and a ferocious heat. Shamelessly, he captures your lips in a soft and tender kiss, an antithesis to the dark gleam in his feral eyes, “I’m not above making a mess in the bedroom,” you gasp at the implication and, for a moment, your cramps become pleasantly arousing. Again, Remus can’t help but hold your lips hostage in an increasingly impassioned embrace. He greedily eats up your pretty moans, the muffled sounds going straight to his groin and making his smart trousers uncomfortably tight — a prickling warning to his precarious conduct, “so be a good girl and sit pretty until after you get over this, okay?” he utters roughly against your lips.

He’ll wait just a little bit longer…it’ll be worth it.

NAVI. | SERIES M.LIST | NEXT : ... →

A/N : goodness me, this was so much harder to write than previous chapters, i kept changing so many things but i think i'm satisfied with the final product, i hope you darlings do too~ the next chapter will be a pretty big one i think, so i won't be posting it for a while, however, i may post short additional imagines/scenarios for this series that don't necessarily follow the chronological order just to satiate some of you XD anywho~ i hope you darlings enjoyed this chapter and look forward to the next one

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mediocre-daydreams · 2 years

Text

(ch.4) what it takes to heal

even scar tissue will fade

pairing: james potter x reader

summary: you may not have had control over your body that night, but you will always have control over what you do with those memories.

warnings: aftermath of sexual assault, partial nudity (?), internal thoughts + insecurities about healing from SA, mentions of blood and physical wounds (very brief and mostly metaphorical)

w/c: 4.5k

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

“prongs?” sirius appraised james’ ragged appearance and made no effort to hide his judgement. “why are you here?”

“what do you mean, ‘why am i here?’ i didn’t realize being in my own dorm was illegal,” he snapped. sirius raised his eyebrows in surprise.

“don’t play dumb, james,” remus snipped, not bothering to look up from his parchment. james sighed, even more frustrated with himself for taking out his cowardice on his friends. james sat on the edge of his bed and massaged his temples.

“lads, i am officially the most cowardly gryffindor there ever was,” he moaned, falling back on his bed dramatically.

“stop being pouty.” sirius caught the attention of remus and peter, tilting his head towards their dramatic friend and encouraging them to speak up.

“prongs, i’m sure whatever happened isn’t that bad. and- hey, are you bleeding?” peter jumped up from his comfortable position in the seat by the window, which is how james knew he was in deep trouble. peter didn’t get out of his favorite spot for just anyone or anything. james fiddled with his glasses anxiously.

“you are bleeding! what did you get up to just now?” peter worried, grabbing james’ wrists angrily. “we were waiting for you, and you come back bleeding and broody?”

sirius spun his body around to face james and peter. “prongs, this isn’t funny anymore. you’ve been off for weeks now, and then you ran off this morning to go talk to your girl after weeks of radio silence, and now you’ve come back looking like you got the shit beaten out of you.” sirius sighed before going unnervingly silent. “…you didn’t do anything to her, did you?”

james shot up immediately, glaring at both sirius and peter. his cheeks were beginning to flush. “no, of course not! how- how could you even suggest that?” he was tearing at his hair now, mussing it up even more than usual. “i would never hurt her, and you know that! i-” he pulled off his glasses angrily and rubbed his eyes aggressively. “have i done something to make you think that i would hurt her? do you think she thinks that i’d hurt her?” he choked, the anger leaving his body and crumbling into panic.

“no, prongs. you haven’t done anything. it’s just… you keep refusing to let us in, or anyone in, and you keep running from your problems and it’s not healthy. what are we supposed to think? you come back bloody and let’s be honest, it’s not like you haven’t resorted to violence to… get your way,” remus sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. james’ heart sunk. he could tell his friends were disappointed in him. it was painful, he realized, to have the people who’d been there to support him unconditionally, despite his horrid and selfish behavior, to express disappointment. well, they’d been disappointed in him from the start, but james never noticed that. he was too caught up in his own emotional turmoil.

“so what happened?” peter asked, his voice softer. james curled himself into his knees, hiding his face in his hands. he couldn’t bear to look into his friends’ eyes. even he had begun to doubt himself. there was no glory in violence. and there was absolutely no maturity in leaving behind a mess for somebody else to fix—for you to fix. but bloody hell, that’s what he’d been doing this entire time.

james could barely bring himself to say your name. “she- she told me what happened that night. all of it. and mates, i was furious. i would burn down the castle for her, if it meant there was a chance that the bastard might die in the flames.” he laughed bitterly. “fuck, i’d probably end up in azkaban for her.” he didn’t need to look up to see his friends’ pursed lips and the concerned expressions they were swapping between each other.

“and i told her she was brave for telling me and having to relive it all, because she is, and it was so… god, he walked by right after. as if he’d just went along with his life and the situation had never burdened him. and he saw her. and then he was trying to come up to her, and fuck, she was so scared. fuck!”

finally, james lifted his head to slam his fist into the mattress. it wasn’t nearly as satisfying as the loud slam of a punch to a solid wall or the shattering of a thrown lamp, but he’d done enough damage. he knew he had to reel himself in.

none of his friends said anything, knowing that james would take any comment as a cop-out and stop talking again. james’ eyes flickered between the three of them, and when he realized they were going to remain wordless, he looked down at the floor again and continued.

“i told her to go to the bathroom, y’know? so she didn’t have to see him again. but she refused. she bloody refused. and who was i to tell her what to do? it was her fight, really, but i had to go fuck everything up and get involved…

“he was a ravenclaw. a ravenclaw prefect; fucking head boy. he was so cocky and so calm about the whole thing and god, i just wanted to see him crack. ‘cause he was calling her all these things, y’know? saying she was lying, look- looking for attention.” james cracked his knuckles and rolled his neck, trying to relieve the tension from his body that’d begun to make him tremble.

“you know what that bastard said? he said she asked for it. threatening to go to dumbledore, calling her all these… things, and i just- i couldn’t-” james gasped as he tried once more to calm himself. “if anything, he asked for it,” james sneered, recalling the look on the ravenclaw’s face as he took his first hit.

“i couldn’t stop, y’know? after i started… sometimes i just- you know me. i take it too far sometimes,” james sighed. “it was my fault, i know, and i shouldn’t have done it or whatever, but i’m not sorry. i don’t regret any of it. and if she hadn’t stopped me, i would’ve killed him. i would’ve killed him, right then and there. but i was- i was so angry and i hurt her.” his voice wavered and he was fighting the urge to cry as the image of you staring down at your scraped knees forced itself into his guilty conscious. “i keep fucking things up, and then i fucking ran away from her. i couldn’t look at her. i hurt her and i hurt him and then i probably hurt her even more because i couldn’t take responsibility for my actions and that’s what i’ve been doing for weeks now; running away from everything because i’m a fucking. coward.”

james grabbed the textbook by his bedside table and threw it across the room with as much force as he could. he heard the drywall crack. he stared at the hole and watched as the dust settled before he scrunched his face together. he couldn’t hold it in anymore. he sobbed.

“i can’t- i can’t do anything right. i keep doing this. god, i keep doing this,” he cried, wishing he could just pull the curtains shut and hide in his four post under the covers. under all his bravado and charisma, he was just weak. and he’d done such a good job of pretending that he hadn’t even realized how pathetic he really was, and now it’d come crashing down. he couldn’t even blame anyone because he’d done this to himself.

he wasn’t sure what hurt more: realizing he wasn’t worth much at all, or realizing that he’d lost you for good all because he’d been so possessive and entitled over a girl that was never his. he’d pushed you to go to the party. he’d broken his promise and left you alone. he’d promised to always protect you, and then he abandoned you at your worst. then he’d reassured you of your bravery only to fight your battle, ultimately hurting you in the process, just to abandon you for a third time.

there was a quiet knock on your door. james was frozen in his place, fists clenched so hard that he thought if he had fingernails, they’d’ve punctured his palms. thank god for quidditch and his callouses. he couldn’t tear his eyes away from the damage he’d done to his wall. he’d done so much damage that he’d lost track of how many times he’d fucked up in these past weeks. did this hole constitute as number 10? 11? or was he going easy on himself?

nobody spoke. the knock on the door became a little louder, the rapping increasing in tempo. lupin, peter, and sirius looked at each other warily. james was obviously volatile, and as much as they didn’t want to admit it, he could be a potential threat to somebody’s safety in his current state.

before they could come to their own decision, the knocking outside the door became replaced by furious, forceful kicks and slammed fists on the wood. “i swear to merlin, if you don’t let me the fuck in right now, i will enucleate the four of you. and/or castrate you all, if i have time.” it was your voice. it was the person james wanted to see least of all.

“you little shits, let me in! i know you’re all in there and i know you can hear me. i’m not stupid, you know! we quite literally learned aparacium last week. you think i won’t burn down your door? because i fucking will, and i’m very emotional right now so the fire is going to-”

the door swung open and you stumbled forward with the momentum you had been using to barrage the wood of the door. there stood an abashed peter, rubbing the back of his neck as you glared at him.

“get out. the three of you, get out!” you barked, pointing to where you’d just come from. normally, the marauders wouldn’t be one to obey an order, at least without complaint or teasing, and they certainly wouldn’t have allowed themselves to be kicked out of their own room, but you were not to be crossed.

“james fleamont potter, i’m going to hex you into next term if you don’t look me in the eye and talk to me.” he hung his head, refusing to move or make eye contact. with a couple of long strides, you met him chest-to-chest. he was tall enough so that you could fit beside his body even with his head hanging down. you twisted your neck all the way back so you could see his face.

stubbornly, james closed his eyes and began to move his head to the side. you grabbed him by the cheeks with an unapologetically fierce grip, forcing him to meet your gaze. james was reluctant to open his eyes, and perhaps for good reason. you looked homicidal.

“you. thickheaded. asshole!” you screeched, shoving him in the chest to no avail. james was still much stronger than you, and it only agitated you more. you shoved him a could more times, and for your sake, james pretended to stumble backwards.

“i’m sorry,” he whispered horsely. “i’m so sorry.” there were fat tears welling up in his eyes and suddenly he was ready to take you up on your enucleation offer.

“you’re sorry?” you scoffed. “what are you sorry for, exactly? use your words, jaime. you’re a big boy, so suck it up and talk to me!”

you tugged at the hair near your scalp, exasperated. james couldn’t help but wince at your sharp tone. he knew he deserved it though.

“i’m sorry.” he wasn’t sure how to even begin. it was easier in front of his friends. he could beat himself up and pity himself and sulk, but he couldn’t do that in front of you. not to you. you weren’t his babysitter and he had no right to play victim when he’d been the one who’d hurt you, time after time. “i’m sorry, i’m sorry, i’m so, so sorry,” he babbled, squeezing his eyes together as his eyebrows furrowed. he clenched his jaw to stop his chin from quivering.

you just stared at him in silence. at least, james thought you were staring at him. he had stopped looking you in the eye a long time ago.

“james,” you breathed, hesitantly reaching your hand out for his. he didn’t move. rather than drop your hand, you approached him once more, like you would a flighty animal. “james,” you pleaded. “james, i can’t do this without you. i can’t- i can’t be without you. i can’t exist without you. at least not right now. it hurts, jamie, and i just- please, i miss you. i’m not angry. i just- why won’t you talk to me? why do you keep running away?” you pursed your lips to stop the shaky gasp from escaping your mouth.

“it’s because i love you,” he murmured, so quietly that you weren’t sure if you heard him right.

“i- i can’t hear you, i don’t know if i,” you exhaled, “heard you correctly.”

finally, james initiated eye contact. his hazel eyes, normally pools of inviting gold, were dark and serious, like the dark cover of a forest. you shivered under his piercing gaze. “i love you,” he repeated. as the weight of his words sunk in, he turned around until his back was to you and he threw his hands in the air. “i’m so- i’m so fucking in love with you and i thought i had made it so obvious but you don’t even- you don’t even know, and when i told you i’d do anything for you i meant it, because you make me so irrational,” he ranted, pacing, stressed.

“and i’m so, so tired of pretending. but i keep hurting you and you keep coming back to me and forgiving me and you need to bloddy stop because i don’t deserve it—i don’t deserve you,” he laughed mirthlessly, tearing at his curls.

“you don’t have to love me; in fact, you shouldn’t love me. i’m so bad for you, god, all i’ve done is ruined your life. and i’m so sorry, and i’d do anything for you but i think that means i should stay away from you and fuck, it hurts, but for you? merlin, i’d rather break my heart a million times over than see you cry. i keep making you fucking cry and-”

the breath was knocked out of james as he felt a body slam into him, followed by a soft humph at the feeling of crashing into his muscled chest. your arms were wrapped around his waist with a vice-like grip, and in that moment, he would be perfectly happy dying from asphyxiation if it meant you’d keep holding him. his hands wavered in the air with uncertainty before he heard your voice command him to hold you. he could feel your warm breath through his shirt and the light vibration of your words.

one of his hands snaked around the back of your head and the other on your lower back (at an appropriate distance; euphemia had raised him to be a gentleman). he whimpered, not quite sure what was happening other than the fact that his heart was threatening to regurgitate out his throat.

“james, you arse,” you cursed at him, gripping the fabric on the back of his shirt and tugging with angry fists. “i hate you. i hate you so much.”

he wasn’t quite sure what to make of your contradictory words and actions.

“i hate you, i hate you, i hate you,” you sniffled. “i’m so in love with you james; merlin, i’m so stupid, aren’t i?” you laughed wetly, voice muffled as you continued to bury yourself in james’ embrace. “i didn’t believe it,” you confessed. “that someone like you could love someone like me.”

james reluctantly pulled you away from him, taking you by the shoulders and holding you at arms length. he gaped at you in bewilderment. “someone like you? someone like me? i hope you’re not insinuating what i think you’re getting at,” he cautioned, genuinely looking aghast. “you’re everything, dove. you’re everything to me. i can’t believe you’d ever think-” he huffed, shaking his head.

“i can’t believe you’d ever think i couldn’t love you. it’s me who should feel that way. you’re incredible, you know? the most thoughtful girl i’ve ever met—look at you, worrying about me when i should be the one taking care of you. and you’re clever and brave and so, so, maybe too forgiving.” he brushed his thumb across your cheek.

“not to mention beautiful,” he murmured, eyes leaving yours to flicker down to your lips, a movement that didn’t go unnoticed by you. you smiled.

“i want to kiss you.” you reveled in his sudden shyness as he melted under your loving eyes. “please, let me kiss you.”

“yes, merlin, yes,” he croaked. his other hand came to cup your other cheek and he pulled you in with desire pooling in his eyes. the kiss was bittersweet and awkward and explosive. you had to stretch on your toes and james had to lean down a bit, but once your lips collided, you couldn’t control the satisfied moan that slipped out of your mouth even as you kissed and kissed and kissed james.

your hands found james’ biceps and you grabbed onto the fabric of his shirt to steady yourself. his breath was huffing into your mouth, his tongue brushing over yours with such fervor that you couldn’t help but crack a smile. you were happy. so, so happy right now.

james wouldn’t stop whispering between each of his kisses. i love you, i love you, i love you, please stay with me, never leave, i’d do anything for you, i love you, i love you. he was passionate, aggressive, and desperate, like he was scared to lose you.

all you saw was white stars behind your eyelids. when you pulled away, panting, your eyelashes fluttered before you took in the man in front of you. flushed, lips red and plump, breathing heavily and looking at you as if he could stare right into your soul, you almost wanted to laugh. you’d been so stubborn. you could’ve had him months ago. you had many kisses to make up for.

with one final peck, you settled back on the heels of your feet and held his wrists to keep yourself from swaying. your eyes drift down to his knuckles, which have begun blooming into little bruises and are cracked with dried blood. you sucked air between your teeth and looked up at him with an unimpressed tilt of your head, and he pouted apologetically, hoping to avoid a lecture.

“you know what? i’ll save this discussion for another day. just let me patch you up, please. we have herbology tomorrow and i’ll be damned if i let you get an infection.”

“oh, for merlin’s fucking bullshit sake, this? again?”

james jostled from his sleep, his hands still pulsing with soreness. warily, he swung his head around to find the interruption.

sirus groaned, covering his eyes with his hands and turning around hastily. “put some clothes on, goddamnit.”

at the sound of sirius’ protests, you had begun to stir from where you’d been buried comfortably between james’ sheets. marlene appeared by sirius’ side only moments later, gasping loudly at the sight before her.

james, sitting upright with the lower half of his body thankfully covered by a plush comforter, was breathing heavily with his eyes wide and hair an absolute wreck. he was shirtless, his taunt and slightly freckled chest moving up and down as he calmed himself from sirius’ intrusive early morning interruption.

dorcas had run up the stairs just in time to watch as you, a much deeper sleeper than james, began to mumble quietly as you came to your senses. your arm stretched across to james’ side of the bed, feeling around wildly for his body. when you realized that there was nothing there, you cracked open an eye in confusion only to discover that you and james had an audience of three.

you jolted upright alongside james, prompting sirius to shriek girlishly and turn around to preserve your modesty while dorcas and marlene giggled. you were wearing james’ shirt, much to all of your relief.

“it is not, and i mean not, what it looks like,” you babbled. james nodded his head furiously, his bedhead locks bouncing wildly.

sirius crossed his arms, rolling his eyes like it was the most ridiculous thing he’d ever heard. “suuuuure. and i’m straight,” he quipped. “is everybody adequately clothed?”

“yes, sirius. holy- didn’t she just say it’s not-”

“-what it looks like?” marlene and dorcas deadpanned in unison.

you and james looked at each other in silent conversation. james lifted the covers from himself, this time prompting marlene and dorcas to squeeze their eyes shut.

“relax, ladies. there is no nudity in this pristine and respectful household.” james held his hands up innocently, revealing to the onlookers that he was indeed wearing snitch-pattered sleepwear. you pursed your lips, reluctantly following james’ lead as you slipped off his four-poster and stretched your arms above your head. james’ eyes widened and he stepped forward to tug the hem of your his shirt down.

“careful,” he hissed. when he turned back to sirius, marlene, and dorcas, who were standing silently at the door and observing with smug faces, he fought the urge to yell at them. “can we just… have some privacy? seriously, does nobody know how to knock these days?”

they mumbled some complaints before making their way back down the stairs, but not before sirius could toss another comment over his shoulder: “next time, put a sock on the door!”

james turned to you shyly. “thank you for staying last night.”

you smiled sleepily, rubbing your eyes. “thank you for letting me take care of you. i know it’s not… easy for you to be vulnerable like that. but i’m really happy you were, because, well,” you stood on your toes to press a chaste peck to james’ lips, “now i get to do that.”

bathed in morning sunlight, you could see james’ cheeks darken. you reached out to brush away the floppy tangles of hair from his forehead so you could appreciate how you’d so easily made him flustered.

“you’re funny, you know,” you muttered. “the james potter, reduced to a blushing boy with a pre-k crush just from one little kiss.”

he threw your hands off his forehead. “you sneaky little girl,” he huffed. “i’m injured, remember? i’m sensitive. you have to treat me nicely until i heal up.”

you smacked his arm gently and laughed as he exaggeratedly faked a reaction of pain. “whatever you say, big boy. now put a shirt on, we still have to go to herbology.”

james had made a big show of the silly, colorful band-aids you’d applied to him last night, showing them off proudly to any poor fellow in his vicinity. he got quite a few poorly hidden expressions of shock; people couldn’t believe james potter had 1) settled down with one girl and 2) that the girl in question was not lily evans.

much to lily’s appreciation, she and james continued their usual banter, despite there being no questioning appraisal of james and your budding relationship. it was more for appearances’ sake. lily and narcissa were still figuring things out.

as much as the past few months had stung, when james slipped you an origami note during history of magic, you finally became aware of how much less the wounds had begun to ache. at some point, your friends had begun to stitch you up. it wasn’t time that’d healed your wounds, but the people around you that had been the ones to thread the needle and delicately bring you back together. and yes, each stitch hurt, because each stitch was a reminder of everything you’d been through. but each stitch hurt less, because that wound was closing and the fear and pain of the memories you’d been left with had begun to scab and scar and fade.

the white line would always be there; the new scar tissue would always be a little paler than the skin that was there before. you’d healed, but there would always be that part of you that’d changed. some days, you’d bear the mark proudly, knowing it was a representation of your bravery and strength. other days, you’d be brought to that dark place again, staring at the mark on your body and praying that it could go away, even though you knew it was impossible. on those days—days you’d worn a bathing suit to the beach only to feel vulnerable and exposed again, or days that you’d worn another dress to a party that reminded you too much of the one you’d worn when you’d obtained the wound in the first place—you just needed patience. your friends would reassure you, and eventually, you’d allow them to run their fingers over your scar tissue. james would pepper your skin in light kisses, and you’d relish in the intimacy he’d bestow upon you.

what had once been the site of a forced advance was now a platform through which you could embrace control over the intimacy you wanted to receive. and james was more than happy to indulge you.

you knew that in a few years, new cells would begin to overturn and that scar tissue would begin to replace itself with normal skin. you knew that the mark would eventually fade. that didn’t make you necessarily happy or sad. it was a natural process of your body, and though you didn’t have control over what happened to that part of your skin, you did have control over the memories that’d always be with you.

you chose to keep them. never did they go into the pensieve, though they did end up being shared with dumbledore. never were they pushed into the back of your mind to collect cobwebs; rather, they’d been pulled out like comforting blankets that you’d wrapped around other girls like you to allow them some sense of being able to hide the visibility of their bodies after an intrusive experience.

sometimes there was phantom pain, and you were thrown back into a stormy recollection. but there was always your own strength—not your friends’ or james’ or anybody else’s—that pulled you out.

you thought you’d never be free. but you realized that coming to terms with what’d happened to you was a choice that you could make on your own, with your own consent; you had complete control over what you’d do with those memories. you’d never be rid of your experiences, but you could be free of the weight of them. and you were.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

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