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fourmoony · 6 months

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𝐬𝐥𝐞𝐞𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬

remus lupin x f!reader

smut. p in v. creampie. unprotected sex. fingering. sex with a friend. language. 18+ content minors DNI.

3.2k - masterlist

summary - reader can't sleep. remus helps out. not with warm milk, though.

i'm supposed to be working on an assignment for college. but remus lupin is taking up space in my brain. so, enjoy :)

The air feels stuffy, too hot against your slick skin.

You blow a breath out in frustration, a piece of hair stuck to your forehead refusing to budge and you groan. The house is silent apart from the droning on of the electronic device between your legs that does little to abate the feeling clawing at your insides and it only makes you more frustrated. The lights in your bedroom are turned off, the world outside asleep. Everyone apart from you. You’ve spent two hours tossing and turning, and a further half hour trying to cure the ache between your legs.

It’s futile. You’ve tried everything. Every speed your overly expensive vibrator has to offer, every position, you even got out the glittery pink dildo Marlene got you for Secret Santa the previous year, leaving it out to the side after coming to the heart-breaking decision that it simply wasn’t big enough.

You feel like nothing will be big enough. Nothing feels right, nothing feels good enough, nothing is even close to tipping you over the edge. You shift, further to the left, and whine again, pressing the vibrator to a higher speed. It moves as you press the button, and the feeling of closeness is gone just like that. You growl, pushing the blankets off in a fit of rage and choose to stare at the ceiling in defeat. It’s not going to happen. You should just accept that. But you’re worked up, horny, and too fucking clammy.

The flat is quiet. Remus is asleep – the only reason you’re so nonchalant about the noise of your vibrator still buzzing against the mattress next to you, taunting you. You reach to turn it off, sitting up and putting your hair into a makeshift bun. You stare with narrowed eyes at the shadowed outline of the sparkly pink atrocity of a Secret Santa gift. It was given as a joke to make you blush. Your friends like to tease you for your innocence. It’s not something you ever would have bought for yourself. You’d blushed furiously and everyone laughed. It was addictive for the first few weeks, being able to explore your own pleasure. But now. Now, it doesn’t feel enough. Doesn’t feel as good. As big. As filling.

It’s a quick thought, a fleeting thought. A memory that makes your cheeks flush and your eyes close in embarrassment. Remus, fresh out of the shower, two seconds away from closing the towel around his waist. He hadn’t locked the door. It was an accident. You hadn’t meant to walk in on him. You’d been half asleep, bursting for a pee, and he hadn’t locked the door. Even worse, you hadn’t meant to look. But he was wide eyed and frozen, and your fight or flight had you trying to assess every part of the situation. And his nakedness was a large part of the situation.

You’re not proud of it. But you’d looked. And you liked what you saw.

And now.

Well, now, you can’t stop thinking about it. About Remus. Kind Remus who makes you tea on cold mornings, puts your pyjamas in the dryer for you when you get out of the shower, who cooks you dinner and leaves it in the oven when you work the late shift at the café down the road. He’s kind and attentive and always there to lend a helping hand. You feel silly as you clamber off your bed, knowing there’s a high likelihood that Remus will tell you you’ve taken his kindness to its boundaries.

Your feet pad quietly down the hallway of your shared flat. The under counter lights in the open plan kitchen at the end of the hall illuminate the space enough to see. Remus’ door is closed, but you twist the handle and push, wincing when it lets out an annoying squeal. Remus rouses at the sound, squinting sleepily at you as he turns. He lets out a breath, sits up on his elbow and pulls back his blanket to offer you the space beside him.

It’s not the first time you’ve climbed into bed with Remus, but you still shift nervously on your feet, biting at your lip.

“You okay, love?” Remus asks, voice deep and croaky.

It makes you flustered in your reply. Voice quiet, unsure, “Can’t sleep.”

Remus nods, reiterates pulling back the blanket to make room for you. You cross one leg over the other in front of you, fiddling with the metal daisy chain ring on your middle finger. Remus got you it when you got into university last year. It’s your favourite piece of jewellery you own, overpriced tennis bracelet from your overcompensating parents be damned. He catches your nervous tic and his eyes narrow, his head tilts, messy hair flopping sideways with the movement. There’s a slight stubble on his chin from running late this morning and skipping his daily shave and he’s sans pyjama top, having clearly also felt the heat.

He sits up fully and the blanket pools around his waist. His skin glows in the low light of the moon through the window beside his bed. He’s beautiful. This you’ve always known. Now, it’s tenfold because you’ve seen all of him. And all of him is what you want, in this moment. Your face is flames as you edge closer until you’re hovering beside his bed.

“Have you tried warm milk?” Remus asks, his voice almost teasing.

“Don’t want warm milk.” You pout.

There’s something about the way he’s looking at you, trying to sus you out. He knows. He must know something. You’re hardly being subtle. Remus’ lips twitch in a smile when you squeeze your legs together in front of you, again, lip between your teeth, eyes watery.

“What do you want?” He asks, voice breathy.

He wants you to say it. But you can’t. You won’t.

“Rem, please,” You whine, “I’ve tried everything.”

His hand reaches for yours, pulls you until you’re straddling him. His lips are a centimetre from yours, hot breath fanning out over your mouth. You press down hard against him, lips pouted. He doesn’t let up, just raises his eyebrows. A question. What have you tried?

“I couldn’t get the angle right with my vibrator,” You whisper, cheeks bright red and warm to the touch, where Remus’ thumb is gently rubbing back and forth, fingers cupping your wobbling jaw, “Then the thingy Marlene got me wasn’t-“ You huff.

Remus chuckles softly, endearingly.

“It wasn’t enough.”

Remus smiles, “You want my help?”

You nod eagerly, “Please, Rem.”

He’s on you in a second. Lips and tongue and teeth, so hot and heavy it knocks the breath from you. His hands fist the thin material of your shorts, at your waist and you bend into him, hands running up his sides, over his shoulders, into the hair at the nape of his neck. He’s hard beneath the flannel of his pyjama bottoms. You can feel it against the crease of your thigh. It makes you whine into his mouth, shifting until you’re perfectly aligned over him. His grip focusses on your arse cheeks when you grind down, a bruising grip that you relish in.

His hands push you forward, you pull yourself back. His lips leave yours, trailing along your jaw, down your neck. Your head tilts back, panting for breath, lost in the pleasure. Your stomach tightens the harder his grip gets, the harder you press down, the faster you move. You feel like a seedy teenager, dry humping yourself against him. Remus’ teeth nip at your collarbone, only to soothe over it with his tongue. You whine again, making your impatience known, but Remus doesn’t speed up.

He looks up, lips mouthing at the underside of your chin until you tilt your head back up to look at him. His pupils are blown, eyes hooded, lips curved into a sinful smirk.

“So needy.” He mumbles into your lips.

You push down harder in response. Remus grabs your hips, stills you. You pout, doe eyes watery. Remus tuts, shakes his head, “You want my help, we do it my way.”

He shifts until you’re lying beneath him, legs hiked up around his waist. He doesn’t waste time in stripping you. Your shirt, then your shorts, your panties following. He throws them across the room, and they fall into the shadows of his darkened room. You’re glad they’re gone. Your body feels like it’s burning up under his touch, featherlight as he traces the goosebumps across your skin. He presses kisses in the wake of his fingertips, to your collarbones, your chest, the tops of your breasts, your stomach, navel.

His lips are warm, wet, pressing kisses to the insides of your thighs. You’re high strung, keening, and needy. He comes back to face level, and you grumble, deep in your throat. So close. He was so close to where you need him. He’s smug. You’re about to protest when he slides a finger into you. Your mouth opens, head pushing back into the pillow. His fingers are long, but slender, and it’s not long before he adds another. Your back arches, eyes closing. The minute you close your eyes, Remus stops. You look up, furious, to find him smirking something evil down at you.

“Eyes on me, pretty girl.” He whispers, nose bumping yours.

You comply. Remus resumes, fingers pumping steadily in and out. When he’s knuckle deep, he curls them and your body jerks in response. It’s too much and not enough, a dizzying euphoria of Remus’ casual confidence and his skilful fingers. His thumb brushes your clit gently, the bundle of nerves swollen and begging for attention. You moan his name, thighs squeezing against his hips where they’re splayed open. It urges him on, he whispers quiet encouragements – good girl, that’s it sweetheart, you’re so wet for me – and you continue to writhe beneath him.

“Rem,” You gasp, hand encircling the wrist that’s pumping in and out of you, “Need you.”

“Soon,” He promises softly, lips pressing to the swell of your breast, teeth lightly nipping at the skin there, “Want you to come on my fingers first.”

His thumb moves in tighter circles, his fingers curl deeper, move faster. He adds a third, the stretch burns but in the best way. Your jaw opens on its own accord, a string of moans emitting from your throat, and you arch into Remus. His eyes meet yours, blazing with lust.

“C’mon, baby,” He urges, voice sinfully deep, demanding. “Come for me.”

You clench around his fingers, and he groans as you gush around his hand, voice high pitched, your grip on his shoulders vice like. He’s surprised you don’t snap in two with how high your back arches. His fingers pump you through the rush in your veins, his quiet reassurances blacked out by the sound of blood rushing to your ears. Your head spins and you see white as the orgasm you’ve been chasing for what must be hours by now crashes over you. You babble nonsense, buck against Remus’ fingers, mouth open, eyes wide, back arched and head pushed violently into the pillow beneath you.

Remus hovers over you when your breathing evens, eye’s a little less clouded, and his usual concerned look on his face. You smile dopily up at him, eyes bright.

“Good?” He asks.

It’s a double ended question – you good? Was that good?

You nod.

“More.” You whine, attempting to pull him closer with your legs around his waist.

“You’re insatiable.” He laughs lightly, head bending down to peck your smiling lips gently.

You nod in agreement, head tilted as you look up at him, “I’m blaming you.”

“Of course.” Remus nods, placating you.

He shimmies his pyjamas off, kicks them off the end of the bed, and comes back to crowd your space, again. Hard, he’s much bigger than you saw from Shower-Gate. Your mouth waters as his hand wraps around his dick, pumping a few times before looking back to you. His face softens when he notices your lip trapped between your teeth.

“Baby?” He questions and you soften.

“That’s,” You sigh, embarrassed, “That’s not going to fit, Rem.”

Remus laughs, the apples of his cheeks rounding out, his teeth appearing from behind his lips. His head hangs over your shoulder and you hide in his hair, mortified. The hand that isn’t supporting his weight runs softly up and down your thigh. You groan to show your mortification, heels digging into Remus’ tail bone to try kill his laughter.

“Rem,” You protest, letting a chuckle of your own slip.

Remus looks up, eyes soft, lips pressed together to stop his laughter, “I’m sorry. I’m sorry, pretty girl. I’m not laughing at you. No one’s ever said that before, you just caught me by surprise.”

You giggle, squeezing his waist with your thighs, “They’ve definitely thought it.”

Remus shakes his head, “We don’t have to.”

It’s your turn to shake your head, “I want to. I really want to.”

He smiles, leans in to kiss you. When he pulls away to pump himself again, you let out a low breath. He brushes the tip against your folds, wet and puffy, a couple times before he pushes in slowly. He groans, you moan. You’re tight, fitting around him like perfection. He goes slow until he’s buried to the hilt. You allow yourself to get used to the feeling, whimpering softly when his thumb comes to circle your clit again, working you up.

“That’s it, baby,” He speaks softly, so softly, and you moan.

He pulls back, pushes back in. Takes it slow. Allows you to adjust.

But it’s not enough. You need more. You need the raw pent-up aggression you’ve seen Remus show pervs at bars when they touch you inappropriately. You need angry Remus, who threw a book at the mantle place when your parents missed another birthday. You need the Remus who tries so hard to hide the aggressive side of him but can never fully rid himself of his primal urges, of that white hot fury and determination.

“More,” You breathe, “Faster. Harder. I need more, Rem. Please.”

You’re babbling, begging. But Remus complies. He snaps his hips forward and you all but scream. He groans, breath hot and heavy against your neck. He’s attentive, hips attacking your pelvis. His wooden headboard slams against the wall, your hand reaching up to hold on and stop you from sliding further up the bed. An arm wraps around your waist, pulling you up, closer to him. He feels deeper at the new angle, hips battering into yours. He’s relentless, hitting every spot you need.

You’re babbling nonsense, but so is Remus. Words of encouragement, words that tell you how good you’re taking all of him, how tight you are, how perfect you are. You’re meeting his every thrust, hips grinding against him, the stubble creating friction that tightens the coil in your stomach.

Remus attaches his lips to your shoulder, biting down as he pounds harder against you. You say his name like a mantra, unable to think of anything other than the feeling of him, all over, everywhere, filling, stretching, pounding.

“Rem,” You whine – so close. So, so close – “Come in me.”

Remus’ head snaps up, pupils blown, mouth hung open. He doesn’t slow down, doesn’t falter, “What?”

“Pill. Just,” You gasp when he hits that spot, “Come in me. Please. Wanna feel it.”

Remus moans. Dirty and deep. He fucking moans.

He’s relentless, sweat dripping from his forehead, he releases your waist, hikes your thigh up over his shoulder, you scream. He urges you, tells you sweet things, details how he’s going to fill you up, bites the skin of your calf. His other hand reaches down, draws tight circles that have you seeing stars. You scream his name, loud enough for the entire street to hear, using the leverage on his shoulder to lift your lower back off the bed.

The feeling is dizzying, all consuming. It’s feverish, frantic, a wild chase to the end.

You clench, he hits the right spot, the sting of his teeth on your calf emulates up your leg, the stomach muscles holding you up clench, and he calls you baby, all at the right time. You see white. It feels like your entire body explodes, lights on fire, crashes and burns. You convulse, twitching and screaming, broken words and moans of his names, clenched vice-like around him.

You’re begging. Begging him to follow, to finish in you, even in your pleasure.

You’re still floating, but coherent enough, when Remus grows sloppy, uncoordinated, drops your leg from his shoulder, falls forward, hands at your sides to hold himself up. He jerks, groans, his head falls into your shoulder, and you whine, happily, dopily, when you feel the white-hot spurts of his come against your walls.

He’s breathing heavily, both your bodies slicked with sweat. He drops his weight onto you, and you welcome him happily. Your legs wrap around his lower back, you both wince with the movement. You can feel the slickness between you both, the way he’s dripping out of you. But you’re comfortable, lips pressed to his damp hair. You trace shapes on his back until he comes to, pushing up to press his lips to yours.

The clock on his nightstand reads four in the morning.

He gets up to leave and you whine, “Don’t go.”

Remus chuckles, “Just going to get a warm cloth. Be back.”

You allow him that, grateful he had the idea. You hear him running the tap in the bathroom and he returns with a warm cloth. He’s gentle when he wipes you clear. You wince and flinch, blushing when Remus presses gentle kisses to your thighs as he works. He whispers softly between kisses how pretty you are, how well you did.

He discards the cloth in the wash basket by his door and returns to the bed.

He groans as he settles, holding his arm out for you to fall into him. You do so, swinging a leg over his thighs. It’s then that you realise you’re both still very naked, and your shyness returns. Remus traces shapes on your arm, tucking his head over yours, lips to the crown of your head.

“I can hear your cute little brain running laps, you know.” Remus teases.

You roll your eyes, push your face further into his neck.

“I just came to you in the middle of the night for sex,” the post coital dread sets in tenfold, despite feeling the most relaxed you’ve felt in weeks, “I’m so sorry, Remus.”

You feel Remus shrug, “Don’t fret, sweetheart. I was more than happy to oblige.”

“But-“

“Get some rest, honey. We can talk more tomorrow.” He assures you, pulling the blanket further up your naked bodies.

You concede, pressing a kiss to the underside of his jaw, the stubble tickling your lips, “Okay.”

He pulls you closer, settles in. You allow sleep to wash over you, let the relaxation in your bones pull you under. It’s a dreamless sleep, a comfortable sleep, wrapped in Remus’ arms.

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moonstruckme · 2 months

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Would you be willing to do fem whimsical!reader x lily where reader thinks something is haunted and maybe tries to befriend the ghost? Idk id really be happy with anything i just love lily. thank you if you do write it!! If not that’s okay I hope you have a wonderful day!!

Thanks lovely, hope you have a wonderful day as well <3

Lily Evans x whimsical!reader ♡ 916 words

You recognize the sound of Lily’s footfalls thumping dully on the dusty floors, so you don’t jump when a figure sits down beside you.

“Did you buy whiskey?” she asks. “You don’t even like whiskey.”

“It’s not for me.”

Your girlfriend hums, shuffling closer so her thigh is pressed against your knee where you have your legs crossed underneath you on the floor. In front of you is your candle, the flame flickering steadily, and your offering of the bottle of whiskey. Otherwise, the room is empty. “If you keep coming in here, eventually Michael’s going to figure it out and he’ll get a real lock put on the door.”

Michael is your landlord, of whom Lily is constantly wary because his first course of action is always threatening to kick tenants out (though as far as you know, he’s never actually done it).

“True,” you reply, “but don’t you think he’d appreciate it if I got the presence up here to quiet down? No one’s going to move in if it keeps making so much ruckus.”

Shortly after the last tenants had moved out, you’d started hearing noises in the unit above yours. Sometimes it’s a light clicking, sometimes a louder thump like something’s fallen, but every time you’ve come up here to check there’s been no evidence of things having moved around. The natural conclusion is that there’s been some disturbance in the spirit world that’s resulted in a new presence squatting here, and you like to make friends with your neighbors.

You know Lily’s a bit dubious of your theory, but your beliefs often differ from hers. She’s never made you feel like yours are any less valid.

“Are you sure that making friends with the ghost won’t make it more inclined to make more noise?” she asks.

“Mm, maybe,” you muse, “but I’d like to think that if they like me well enough, they’ll listen if I ask them to keep it down. At least at night, you know?”

Lily smiles, and the room warms in response. “Worth a try,” she agrees. “How long do you think you’re going to be tied up for? Dinner’s almost ready.”

“Not much longer. As soon as the candle burns out I just have to look at the shapes in the wax, and then I can go.”

“We’re going to have to clean up the wax stains before Michael discovers them too.” She leans over to kiss the side of your head, the soft curtain of her hair falling across your cheek, before sitting back on her heels and straightening up. “Alright, love, come down when you’re done.”

You hum in response, listening to the comforting cadence of her footsteps as they leave. But then there’s another sound with them. A quiet clicking.

You inhale softly as the flame of your candle flares slightly. “It’s here,” you breathe. “It’s listening.” Lily pauses in the doorway, and you clear your throat, trying to affect your voice to be calm and welcoming. “Hello? Can you communicate with us?”

The clicking continues. You think—hope, maybe—that it might be growing louder, but it’s difficult to say.

“Hello?” you try again. “We’re friendly, please don’t be afraid.”

“Sweetheart, I’m not sure…” Lily takes a few steps toward you, a bemused furrow between her brows. “It sounds like it’s coming from in there.”

She starts down the hall, and you follow hastily. She stops in front of a closed bedroom door, reaching behind her to grasp your arm cautiously. The clicking does sound louder here. Lily edges the door open quietly, peering inside.

“Oh.” The syllable stretches as if drawn out from between her lips, sweet as spun sugar. “Hello, darling.”

She lets the door fall the rest of the way open, dropping into a crouch. Over her, you can see the empty, dusty room, rich light from the setting sun streaming through the windows, and a small white kitten frozen warily in the middle of the floor.

Lily reaches out a hand, making quiet little tsking noises with her tongue, but you step right over her and gather the kitten in your arms.

“Hi there,” you say. “Is it you making ruckus every night?”

Lily laughs, rising from her crouch to come stand by your shoulder. “It’s so unfair how they always come to you,” she complains fondly. “I try so hard.”

You hum noncommittally. It’s true, animals love you. You scratch the side of the kitten’s face, smiling when it purrs.

Your girlfriend smiles too. “So you’re our ghost, hm?” she coos, stroking a knuckle down its belly. “Sorry you didn’t get your chance to make friends with someone from the afterlife, sweetheart.”

“That’s alright,” you say. “This may be more rewarding anyway. You can’t pet ghosts.”

Lily laughs, dropping a kiss on your shoulder. “No, I don’t suppose you can. Do you want to keep her?”

You look at her in surprise. “Could we? Michael wouldn’t be happy.”

She shrugs a shoulder, green eyes flashing with challenge. “There are some things worth incurring Michael’s wrath, I think.”

You beam, looking down at the nearly sleeping kitten cradled in your arm. “Yeah.”

“Come on.” Lily gives you a nudge, starting back out into the hall. “Our dinner’s going to burn, and I think we have tuna in the pantry to hold this one over until we can get to the store.”

“Can we name her Ghost?” you ask, following her out.

“Oh, I don’t think we have a choice.”

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flxwerydreams · 1 month

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I think I like you (I hope you do too)

Lily Evans x Fem!Reader

a/n: first fic!!! pls be kind :) the title is from your text by sundial.

c/w: die joke, swearing. (lmk if i missed something)

You stared at the man with undisguised incredulity. “800 pounds? Are you kidding me? I thought we agreed on 500?” Trevor - or perhaps Troy rolled his eyes at you derisively. He probably thought he was being subtle - that stupid prick.

“It's just how it is, Miss. Moving stuff inside the 'ouse? Well, that's gonna cost you a bit extra, innit? Wouldn't want you gettin' in over your 'ead now, would we?" he jeered at you. His twin, Trevor, you identified from his tag, snickered stupidly at that. The universe was really testing your patience today.

"Seriously? It would've been decent to tell me upfront that moving stuff indoors meant extra charges. This is ridiculous." Trevor turned to you then, all six feet of him tensed and towering over you. "Miss, it ain't on us. You got a problem with it, you take it up with the higher ups. Give us our dosh, we've got other bits to be getting on with." With a sigh you handed over the cash, regretting the choice of passing on your friends’ offers to help you with the move.

With another sigh, you turned back to the big mess in front of you, your hands resting on your hips, visibly expressing the exhaustion you were already feeling. This had seemed like such an exciting idea at first, having your own space all to yourself. The independence and freedom that you had anticipated was certainly there and you were definitely feeling it now. Having to arrange all this furniture by yourself …… very exciting.

You let out a third sigh and felt the weariness seep into your bones. This was going to be a very long day. You took a step toward the covered couch - ready to begin settling into this new place, which would hopefully become your home.

Suddenly, you were ambushed by a lasso which was thrown at your legs with murderous intent. The lasso then purred and you died ….. due to the lasso’s cuteness. “Hello, kitty! Oh, you’re so precious”, you cooed. The cat (not lasso) meowed up at you, rubbing against your shins. “What’s your name, buddy?” you murmured softly, picking it up and settling it in your arms. The only response you received was another meow, and a curious paw on your face. Noticing your open door, you walked towards it, all the while, gently scratching the cat behind its ears. “You seem like such a distinguished member of the society. Oh, is that where you came from?” you wondered to yourself, noticing another open door down the hallway. “And you’re my new neighbour too, it’s so sweet of you to welcome me like that, kitty.” you giggled, shutting your door carefully. “Let's get you back to your owner, shall we?” You walked up to the threshold of your neighbour’s house and knocked on the open door.

Just then, ‘Kitty’, as you had begun to call the cat in your head, jumped down from your arms and ran inside — towards the kitchen, you assumed. Standing on your neighbour’s doorstep awkwardly with no apparent reason was definitely not on your agenda for the day but before you could say or do anything, a figure emerged from said kitchen, you assumed again. Following that, your heart skipped around five or at least two beats.

Standing in front of you was probably the most gorgeous woman you had ever seen. Her red curls were tied up in a top bun and there was a smudge of flour across her left cheek. And she was saying something — to you. “— hall?” She asked, with a curious gaze fixed on you.

“Huh? Sorry — I didn’t hear that, I was - I was thinking something else, sorry” you felt heat rise to your cheeks.

At this, a teasing smile spread on her lips. She replied with a playful lilt to her tone "I said, I hope Crookshanks didn't give you any grief, darlin', and I was wonderin' if you're the new neighbour down the hall."

“Oh yes, I am.’’ you replied hurriedly. “I’m in 403. Which you probably already know, cus' of all the noise.” Then you registered her previous statement. “Oh, wait — his name is Crookshanks? That’s such a cute name! How old is he?”

“He’s four!” she replied eagerly. “He’s Himalayan. And I’m Lily Evans. What’s your name, love?” she asked, walking up to you.

It was so hard not to stare at her — she was radiant, and you realised with a start that your palms were sweaty as hell. Quickly wiping them on the back of your thighs, you extended your right hand forward as you told her your name — mostly so that you would have something to do with them, but also because she was just so pretty. Although you didn’t want to be a creep, her hands looked so soft. You realised too late that they also looked dusty. The apologetic smile on her face just made you want to cringe even more.

"I'm terribly sorry. I was actually just whipping up some cookie dough for your welcome biscuits. Seems I've spoiled the surprise, haven't I? But I do hope you're rather fond of chocolate chip! It's one of my specialties, you know." she winked.

In your opinion, if you fainted, at that moment, it would be completely valid. The little nicknames, the supposed flirting (you hoped), and that wink? It was a surprise you were still standing straight. It took you a few seconds to find your voice again. “Oh, you didn’t have to, you know? But also thanks a lot. Crookshanks and his owner both definitely know how to give a warm welcome.” That was brave. And also slightly lame, in your opinion. But it seemed to have its desired effect or so you thought, judging by the slight twinkle in Lily’s eyes. Her body language shifted. She leaned in a bit closer and hummed playfully. "Looks like I owe thanks to my mate for leaving the door ajar as he left. Annoying as bloody hell, but it seems to have finally come in handy."

You quirked a smile at that, hoping her close proximity didn’t mean she could feel the heat emanating off of your face. “Looks like you do, I guess. Anyway, I should get going. I’ve still got a shit ton of stuff to do and not enough time. I’ll see you — and Crookshanks, later though?” Judging by the way her smile seemed to soften around the edges, she definitely caught the hopeful tone at the end of your sentence. “Yes, you will. Fancy joining me for dinner tonight? I'm not exactly a master chef, but I reckon the gas ain't sorted yet at your place, love.” this time, her tone was quieter and she was looking directly into your eyes with a small smile. You shifted your weight to the other leg and looked to the floor, considering it. Was this a date? You desperately wanted it to be, but what if something went wrong? Then you would have to live next to her with that and it would be awkward as hell. Looking back up at her, you saw that she was waiting patiently for you to respond, and you decided to give it a shot. What will happen, will happen, right?

“Sure.” you replied, hoping your voice didn’t betray the conflict you had felt. “I’d love that.” She smiled brightly and clapped her hands together, leading to a small cloud of flour enveloping the both of you. At that she grinned sheepishly and whispered “Sorry.” Guess you weren’t the only nervous one, after all."I'll see you after you're done with work, love. Just give me a shout, yeah? I’ll be waitin’."

And with that, you left for your own flat, and the big mess that awaited you. You knew the nerves of the date — was it? — would power you to get through a majority of the work. A giddy smile on your face, you began with the Herculean tasks.

And if the exhaustion of the day seemed like a good excuse to sit a bit too close to each other on Lily’s couch while watching Brooklyn Nine-Nine after eating slightly overcooked pasta, who were you to object to that?

i hope you enjoyed it! leave a comment :) special thanks to @mxssingmemories for being an absolute angel 💖

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phoenixs-fandoms-and-writings · 6 months

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Confession

Fandom: Harry Potter

Pairing: Lily Evans/GN!reader

Summary: You’ve had a crush on Lily for about two years. She’s spent the last couple of months holding your hand or linking arms with yours when she’s with you, but hasn’t been doing it with others. You finally ask her about it.

Notes: This was written for Flufftober 2023’s day 15 prompt: Emergency, Confession, Adventure. @flufftober

I don’t own Lily Evans or Harry Potter.

This account is anti-JKR and is a safe space for all.

I do not give permission to anyone to repost or translate any of my stories. I also do not give anyone permission to feed my stories through AI or to be posted to any third party website or app. If anyone sees any of my work posted anywhere but here or my AO3 (simplyreflected), then it has been posted without permission.

Read on AO3 here.

You and Lily had both been friends for ages; since you both began at Hogwarts. The two of you hit it off immediately. Even better was that both of you were sorted into the same house.

It’s been six years since that day. And two years since you developed a crush on her. You’ve kept it to yourself since then, afraid that this would ruin your friendship with her.

However, one day, three months after Snape called her a mudblood, the two of you had become closer; physically closer. Whenever you were nearby, she would take your hand or link her arm with yours and it confused you, to say the least. It started two weeks later, and you thought it was time to bring it up. You needed answers.

When the two of you were alone, you finally worked up the courage to ask her, “Lily?”

“Hmm, what is it?”

“Why do you always hold my hand or link arms with me when we’re together?” You paused, before adding, “you never do that with Marlene, Dorcas, or Mary.”

“I like you.” She stopped, and looked down as if ashamed. “No, I love you. You’ve always been there for me when I need it. And the truth is I had been falling for you, prior to what happened with Snape.”

“Lil. Lily?” When she didn’t look up, you cupped her cheek and guided her face up. You didn’t need her looking at you, but you needed her to listen.

She moved her hand up to hold your wrist and close her eyes. She enjoyed your touch. She always had. You knew that, but now you knew that she felt the same way.

“Lily, I need to know you’re listening to me, alright?” She nodded to let you know she’s listening. “I love you. I have for the past two years.” Her eyes opened and she looked up at you. “I was afraid I’d ruin the friendship we had, and that you’d choose him over me. You had been friends with him longer than you had been with me, after all.”

She moved closer, until your lips touched. You made the final move and kissed her. You were finally at peace, no longer having to hide what you feel.

#harry potter fanfiction #harry potter #marauders era #marauders era fanfiction #lily evans x you #lily evans x reader #lily evans fanfiction #lily evans #fluff #flufftober #flufftober 2023 #lily evans fluff #lily evans fic #friends to lovers

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rainandhotchocolate · 2 months

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Requests open

oh hey! Been a long time - and I know I have plenty of unfinished stories. I've been having a very hard time getting back into writing, and I miss it greatly and I would love to take any and all request from you guys to try and springboard some ideas if you have them!

You can see my fandoms below :)

HP - Marauders preferred

BG3 - have never written for them but can't get enough of them

Shadow and Bone/ Leigh Bardugo

Howls moving castle

Supernatural

Gilmore Girls

#sirius black x reader #james potter fic #sirius black imagine #lily evans fic #remus lupin imagine #mauraders era #howls moving castle #bg3 #baldur's gate #Baldurs gate 3 fanfiction #gilmore girls fanfiction #supernatural

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z0mbieb0ybyersblog · 5 months

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How Lily Evans met the Marauders

pairing: none really but slight wolfstar (if you squint)

warnings: sweet tooth aching fluff

word count: 1k

ao3 tags: This is a funny short, How Do I Tag, Modern Era, Marauders, light wolfstar, best Lily Evans and Remus Lupin friendship, Best Friends, sweet tooth aching fluff

summary:

the chaotic telling of how Lily Evans met the true (animagus) Marauders

originally posted on ao3

RING. RING. RING.

Remus pulled his phone out of his pocket. “Hey, Lily, Id love to chat, but right now isn’t a good time.”

”Remus wa-“ Lily said before Remus hung up on her.

RING. RING. RING.

“Lily-“ Remus Started as he answered the phone again but was cut off. “Remus! I need your help!” She said urgently. “Oh, merlin is everything okay?” he asked, now feeling bad he had hung up on her before.

”Well, uh, I was driving home , and there was this black dog in the middle of the road rolling around, and I pulled over, and It jumped in my car! And I don’t know what to do 'cause there was a stag following it, and now I'm pulled over on the side of the road with a dog in my car and stag trying to get in it too, ” Lily hurriedly explained.

“A black dog? And a stag..?” Remus asked

”Yeah”

Remus sighed before he replied, “Lily, is there a chance also a rat with them?”

“A rat? No, no rat- OH MERLINS BEARD , THERE IS A RAT!” Lily cried out.

”Lily, can you send me your location.” Remus asked. “Okay..”

“Okay, I’ll be there soon,” Remus said, hanging up the phone.

A couple of hours before Lily had called, Remus was out with the other marauders having a few drinks, but a few turned into many, and many turned into a lot, especially for James and Sirius, and when the twos drunk singing got them eventually kicked out of the bar for the night Remus was stuck paying their bills.

Remus was inside paying the bill when Peter rushed inside, stammering that James and Sirius had run off, and Remus knew they were in their animagus forms because this was not the first time they had done this; Remus told Peter he should try his best to go off where they went as Remus went searching by car; Petter agreed and transformed into his animagus and ran off.

Remus was twenty minutes into his search for the drunken idiots when he got Lily's frantic call and immediately figured his friends had found her before he found them.

—

Lily was now waiting for Remus to show up; she had no clue what was happening. All she knew was there was a stray black dog in her back seat and a stag trying to join it with a rat on its back.

"Oh, come on, please get out of my car. I just want to go home." Lily whined, trying to get the dog out of the car.

While Lily had her focus on the dog, the stag thankfully stopped trying to get into the car, but unluckily, James transformed back into his human self. "Come on Pad- Padfoot, let's go find- uh.. Remus!" James said drunkenly, stumbling over his words. "James- Oh, Merlin James!" Lily said in shock to see her friend now there. "James, thank goodness you're here- wait, where did the stag go?" She asked, looking around and seeing the stag was now nowhere in sight. "Don't be silly, Lily. I'm right here." James laughed.

"James, you're not-" "Yes, I am! Lily, you're so funny!" James laughed, cutting off his friend, "James.. what are you saying?" Lily asked.

"Im an animagus!" James shouted with the biggest grin, but Lily was shocked at what he was saying. "Prongs, you're not supposed to tell anyone!" Sirius laughed from Lily's back seat, and Lily was again surprised to see yet another one of her friends was an animagus. "You- But- No, no way, you can't tell me you two are animagus, there's no way! Next thing you're going to say to me that the rat is- is like Peter or something," Lily stammered, looking at the two boys.

"Well, actually, Lily," A voice said from behind her, and when Lily turned around, she was stunned to see Peter; at that moment, Remus finally showed up, and when he got out of the car, he saw his three friends in non-animagus form surrounding Lily who was deep in thought trying to piece together what was happening.

"Moony!" Sirius shouted, rushing over to Remus to pull him into a hug, and Lily was drawn out of her thoughts. "Remus- I- Did you know? Wait, don't tell me you're a-" Lily asked but was cut off. "Yes, I did know, but no, I'm not an animagus," Remus explained. "Yeah! He's not an animagus; he's a werewolf!" James laughed, and Remus' jaw clenched.

"Peter, can you help these drunk buffoons to the car," Remus asked; Peter nodded, helping the two to the car.

"Remus-" "Look, Lily.. what James said was true, but I promise I didn't want this, and I would never hurt you or anyone. But Lily, I hope you can look at me the same," Remus explained with a lump in his throat; Lily looked at him softly cause she knew he meant it; plus, she knew how he truly was. Remus Lupin was one of the best people she knew; she wished he would realize that.

"Oh, Remus.." Lily said softly as she made her way over to Remus to pull him into a hug. "Remus, I would never view you differently; you are my best friend, and I love you and I will always be there for you, I promise," Lily spoke, and Remus almost started tearing up as he hugged her back.

HONK--

"Moons, moony, lovely moon, love of my life-" Sirius said, honking the cars horn as he also tried to climb out of the car's window, but Peter pulled him back inside.

"Well, I should get going; I gotta bring Peter and drunk dumb and dumber home," Remus said, pulling out of the hug. "Okay.." Lily said as Remus turned to walk away. "Remus, wait!' Lily yelled, and Remus spun around. "Yeah?" "When dumb and dumber wake up with a hangover, wanna go out for coffee so somebody can explain the animagus thing to me?" Lily asked. "Sure," Remus said with a smile.

"Well then.. good night Remus."

"Good night Lily."

#fanfic #ao3 #marauders fic #wolfstar #remus lupin #james & peter & remus & sirius #remus lupin and lily evans #lily evans #lily evans fic #remus lupin fic #sirius black #james potter #peter pettigrew #marauders fluff

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jamesunderwater · 10 months

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Chapter 11 - family line

I saw a quote once that said: “How many times have I loved a thing, just because you loved it? Including me.” This story is about love, but is not to be confused with a love story. It’s about the love we should have had. The love we don’t think we deserve. The crooked love we settle for. It is about how, in letting others love us, we learn to love ourselves.

Chapter 11 ~ Beginning ~ Playlist

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mirclealignr · 2 years

Note

Oh for sapphic Sunday how about flower picking/making daisy crowns with lily Evans?:)

angel | lily evans.

amongst flowers, it seemed lily evans was truly at home. her name, you supposed, was very apt—she was nature embodied. she was gentle and soft but fierce and steadfast when and if she needed to be. her grandeur could not be replicated, not in art, music nor literature. the pages of your diary would never fully understand lily the way your eyes would.

“stop dawdling,” lily commanded, turning back to look at you.

it’s true you were strolling far behind lily, admiring the fiery, brazen hair that trickled and swayed down her back and the way her fingers tangled in the tall grass as she swept past.

“sorry,” you muttered, not adjusting your pace.

but it didn’t matter, for shortly after, lily had slowed down too. she could never resist the vibrant colour of the flowers that reached for the sunlight. she noticed you staring, and straightened out her back to turn to you. the way the sun brightened her face, showering her in golden light, took your breath away.

“pink or purple?” she asked, holding up two flowers.

“w-what?” you stuttered, trying to tear your eyes away to look at your options.

“i think purple for you,” she smiled.

whatever she wanted.

“okay,” you whispered, watching her approach you.

it was like you had ascended to heaven or perhaps a heavenly dream—lily and all her angelic beauty had rendered you speechless, thoughtless, breathless. and now she was close, so close. she pushed the flower stem behind your ear and smiled satisfied, but your mind was fixed upon the way her fingertips had felt against the shell of your ear.

“i was right,” she grinned. “looks beautiful.”

“thank you,” you replied. what could do but accept the gracious compliment from someone whose beauty outshined yours for miles?

“will you do mine?”

without hesitation you replied: “yes, of course.”

carefully, you took the delicate flower between your fingers and placed it behind her ear. the pink almost clashed with her red hair, but it was just the right shade that it complemented her well.

you knew she was anxious to pick a bouquet, but you couldn’t let her go just yet.

from her ear, your hand travelled to her jaw and caressed it gently, looking into her bright green eyes. she inched closer, knowing what you wanted—she wanted it too. she wanted you like you wanted her, and you could do nothing but cherish the time in which she loved you, for any moment it might end.

her strawberry lips met yours softly, and for a moment time had disappeared entirely.

“come on, let’s pick some flowers,” mumbled lily as she pulled away slowly.

okay, you thought, anything for you.

sapphic saturday!

#lily evans x reader #lily evans x you #lily evans fic #lily evans fluff #lily evans fanfiction #sapphic saturday !

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imkittyjustkitty · 2 years

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🎂 — Fluffuly #13

— prompt : cooking/baking @fluffuly2022

— pairings : Lily Evans x Reader

lily, who only likes baking small things like cookies and cupcakes, bakes something bigger with reader

"No wait, surely that's a bit too much!" Lily's voice calls out as she turns from what she was concentrating on to face you.

You're both working on a three layered cake for all of your friends' (plus yours and Lily's) Hogwarts graduation. Sure, it occurred to you guys that you could use some spell to conjure up a cake in the blink of an eye, but this was a big occasion, and it felt important to you that you make the cake yourselves.

You laugh softly at her worried gaze as she watches over your actions of making the batter.

"Trust me Lils, it's fine, this is a really big cake, remember?"

You can see the war that's raging in Lily's head, she knows in the logical part of her brain that you're using the right amount, but in the other half, she's so used to baking small treats like cookies or cupcakes, so it feels wrong to bake anything with such a large amount of ingredients.

She sighs, "I know," dragging out the 'o' in exasperation.

You kiss her on the cheek as she turns back to where she's making the icing for the cake.

✎﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

The batter makes a gross squelching sound as it drops into the tin, making you grimace. It's been maybe half an hour since you and Lily have started baking this cake, and now it's finally time to put the batter in the oven, and wait.

You grab oven mitts, slotting the full cake tins in one-by-one, closing the oven door as you rub your forehead, baking is more tiring than it looks.

You turn around to see a hopeful looking Lily gazing conflictingly at the left-over batter.

You smile adoringly at her, knowing exactly what she wants to do, "Lils of course you can make cupcakes."

At this, her whole demeanour lights up and she's practically bouncing her way to the kitchen counter, grinning at you as she says, "Love you."

You mirror her grin, wrapping your arms around her waist, "Well, I can't say no, your baking always tastes unbelievably good," you plant a kiss on her nose. Your heart warms as you hear her let out a soft giggle, resting one of her hands atop yours.

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juniperpyre · 6 months

Text

chapter 10, coffee and a bath

Lily knew she needed to talk to Mary. It was only a matter of when, and where, and what to say. Usually Lily had the answers, if not, she knew where to look. She gave advice, she mended divisions. But the people she’d go to, Mary, Marlene, Severus, were not options. They’d gone beyond divisions to breaks, and now all she did was ache and ache and ache, never heal. But it was a new day. Lily Evans did not give in to misery. She may never fully heal, just as her father may never fully heal, but like her father she would soldier on.

#my work #lily evans #marauders fic #lily evans fic #jily #jily fic

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uncertainwallflower · 1 year

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ALL’S WELL THAT ENDS WELL Chapter 1. Rating: T. Co-creator: @merlinsbbeard

“Hi,” the intruder said, their breath forming condensation in the air.

Lily looked up, prepared to scowl. Green scarf. Caramel hair. A slight crease between the eyebrows. Very blue eyes. She fought the urge to look behind her in case he was speaking to someone that—unbeknownst to her—was sitting directly beside her. “Er… Hi.”

AO3

#image source: pinterest #lily evans #all's well that ends well #eventual jily #AWTEW #new fic #WIP #marauders era fanfiction #lily evans fic #hufflefluff #gryffindor #ravenclaw #slytherin #merlinsbbeard #uncertainwallflower

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fourmoony · 7 months

Text

𝐡𝐨𝐩𝐞

james potter x f!reader

fluff. 1.5k.

Summary: James brings home a baby. A baby that is not kidnapped.

part 2 - part 3 - part 4 - masterlist

...

James is standing in the doorway with a baby in his arms.

You’re so grateful he’s even there, that he’s made it back alive – albeit a little bloody and battered, glasses askew and his face covered in dirt – but alive nonetheless, that you don’t even notice the baby, bundled in a warm, fluffy blanket, wrapped safely in his arms. He’s bouncing his arms gently, probably trying to soothe the baby who’s making soft noises, and it’s really a sight to behold. It’s not until he steps through the doorway and gives you a nervous, lopsided smile that you fully register your boyfriend is holding a baby.

You blink. Once, twice. A third time.

James grows progressively more antsy. He chews his busted lip, winces, and then shifts back and forth on his feet. You have no idea where he could even have procured a baby. He’s been on an order mission for the past four days, scouting possible allies with the vampires whilst simultaneously moving important potions ingredients from one safe house to another, making sure the Death Eaters are always two steps behind order movements. Realistically, there’s been zero opportunity for James to come across a baby that he could just – take home.

“You’re home,” You breathe, because truly, that’s the most important part of the whole ordeal. James is here. He’s safe. He’s alive. Another mission down, and James has returned home. So, you’re glad. Grateful, unbelievably so. But also confused. Deeply confused.

“You have questions,” James is arguably calm about the situation, like he’d expected you to be eyeing him with hesitation – he was right – and he’s already rehearsed this in his head. “That’s normal.”

“Normal,” You repeat, the word tasting foreign on your tongue because nothing about this is normal. “Jamie, you’re holding a baby. Tell me we’re just like, babysitting, or something and you haven’t kidnapped someone’s child!”

James winces at your – albeit, quiet – yelling. The baby whimpers in his arms and immediately James shushes it, bouncing slightly on the spot with a desperate look in his eyes. He’s out of his depth, it’s obvious by the panicked way he’s looking between you and the baby, something pleading in his eyes.

“I didn’t kidnap her,” James argues childishly.

Okay, so, the baby is a girl. And James didn’t kidnap her. You turn and walk towards the kitchen, James follows, hot on your heels. The kitchen is a bit of a mess. There are your dishes from dinner, the bin is full, and there’s a couple of empty cartons for the recycling dotted on the counter closest to the back garden door. But James doesn’t flinch, he surveys his surroundings, but ultimately ignores the mess you’ve allowed to take over the small space in the days he’s been away.

“We were flying over Surrey when Marls spotted the dark mark over a muggle area,” James launches into explanation while you busy yourself with leaning over the sink and running the warm water. “We stopped to assess damage, but the Aurors were already there. Her family was killed, baby. The muggle government won’t touch the scene with a ten-foot pole – not that the baby had any other family, anyway, Alice already checked – and the Ministry won’t do anything except send her to an orphanage.”

The suds around your hands suddenly feel too much. The soup crusted around the side of your dinner bowl won’t come off and you scrub aggressively at it, focussing on that instead of the fact that your boyfriend has essentially just told you he’s informally adopted a child at random, without discussing it with you first.

Well, you know there was no time for him to discuss it. You can’t be mad at him for that. And, really, you can’t be angry at him, either, for bringing her to your home. She’s safe here. She’s already suffered an incredible amount of trauma, and she barely looks more than three months old. Your heart softens with your resolve, and you lift your head to look out of the window above the sink. The cottage you and James live in was a gift from his parents – a gift that had made you incredibly overwhelmed until you found out it had been under their ownership since before James was born, anyway – and has enough room for a swing set and a slide, maybe a trampoline. There’s a spare room, upstairs. Sirius will grumble about giving up his room for when he visits, but you’re sure he’ll get over it with some encouragement from Remus. The cottage is pretty much baby proof for James and Sirius’ sake, anyway. You have enough expendable income to completely kit out an emergency nursery necessary.

The argument isn’t really that you can’t afford to have a baby, or that you don’t have space for a baby. It’s that you’re nineteen, a year out of Hogwarts and in the middle of a war. Things are bad, times are scary, James is gone at least a week out of every month, you spend most of your days confined to the inside of a potions lab with Lily, making key potions that the Order need to work efficiently. You’re still kids yourselves, fighting a war that is taking everything from you.

But the way James is holding her like she’s the most precious thing he’s ever seen, rocking her, and cooing at her, you melt when you turn to face them, and it just feels – right, you suppose.

James looks up, smiles tentatively. You’ve always known he’ll be a great dad. He’s so full of light and love. When he loves, he loves with his entire heart. He loves dotingly and loyally. He’s so sure, standing there. Even though you can tell he’s trying to respect you, waiting to show his excitement until he knows how you feel, you can also see how much love he already has for this little girl, how sure he is that here, with him and with you, is the best place for her.

You take a step towards him, around the kitchen island, and hold your arms out wordlessly. He places her in your arms so gently and then watches as your eyes meet hers. They’re big and round and so blue you feel the breath hitch in your throat. She’s gorgeous. Big puffy cheeks and tufts of dark hair on her small little head. Her tiny lips are curved into a tired pout. You can’t help the smile that overcomes you. When your eyes lift – reluctantly – James is staring at you both. There’s something sickly sweet about the look in his eyes, warm like coffee, sweet like honey.

“We’re at war, Jamie,” You tell him, “Having a baby is a bad idea.”

James nods, “I know.”

A beat of silence passes. An understanding, maybe. It’s a bad time to be two nineteen-year-olds having a baby. But it’s there, in the way James looks at you. He’s never been one to have perfect timing. He asked you to be his girlfriend in the middle of an argument. He asked you to move in with him after school when the first Daily Prophet announcement about the war being confirmed happened. He’s brought a baby home out of nowhere, in the middle of said war. But it feels right. Holding her in your arms, James standing so close you can feel his warmth.

“What’s her name?” You ask, smiling sweetly at James.

He beams. He just – he beams. You know that he knows, then. You’re in. For better or worse.

“No idea. Alice had the muggle police contact the muggle social workers, who had no idea of anything about her. Bit of a mystery, really. But we get to keep her. Keep her safe, love her, raise her. So, I think it worked out. Is that bad?" James whips his head up, like his words surprised himself.

You chuckle lightly, "A little."

"What do you think we should name her?" You ask, eyes flitting back down to her. She's fallen over into sleep, blue irises gone from the world and you feel a tinge of sadness. You miss the bright blue of them, already. She's huffing softly, lips parted cutely. There's something magical about the way she's captured your heart in ten minutes flat. She might have magical powers, after all.

"Not sure. We can think on it. Our meeting with the ministry to officially adopt isn't until Monday." James speaks softly, in awe of the sight of you both.

You nod, "We better ring for Sirius and Remus, send them off for a cot, and then coax them into helping us build it."

You hand her over to James, he takes her, and then make for the phone. James stops you when he speaks, voice an amused whisper, lips pressed to her head, "They're already on their way."

"You knew I'd say yes."

"I knew you'd say yes. How could you not? Look at her." James is all honey voiced as he coos and holds the baby up for you to see and you melt.

She's the cutest thing you've ever seen. You're in awe. She's got your heart, well and truly. It's a strange feeling, to have such adoration for a human so small, who you've only just met. But you know you'll lay your life down to protect her. You'd do anything to make sure she's safe. She promises love, in the darkest time. You can already see the difference in James since returning home. He's lighter, full of smiles, gentle, happy. Usually, after missions, James is dark and brooding. He's filled with a darkness that only being a soldier can bring about.

James is looking at her so lovingly it makes you want to cry. She's happiness, and love. She's-

"Hope." You say, the ghost of a smile on your lips.

James looks up, brows furrowed, a question.

"Hope Potter." You affirm, tears in your eyes.

Your heart fills when James leans forward, presses a kiss to your lips, careful not to jostle Hope, "I love it. I love you."

"I love you. Both."

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moonstruckme · 15 days

Note

Hihi!! I’m brand new here but I love your writing already!! I was wondering if you could write something for James, Remus, or Lily (you can pick!) with a reader who’s absolutely terrified of throwing up and they help her through it when it actually happens? Sorry if it’s worded weirdly or doesn’t make sense 😭😭

Thank you for requesting lovely!

cw: nausea, mention of vomit, reader has hair long enough for a ponytail

Lily Evans x fem!reader ♡ 616 words

“Sweetheart,” Lily’s perfume fills your lungs with every deep breath you take, sweet and vaguely floral. Grounding. Her hand coasts gently up and down your spine, “you’re only drawing it out.”

Tears bite at the backs of your eyes, because you know. It’s inevitable, when the first wave has already passed but the nausea hasn’t, that there’s going to be more. And your girlfriend, despite her best intentions, is being so supremely unhelpful by telling you so.

Which isn’t her fault, you know. You certainly don’t want her to go away, you’re just frustrated and panicky and a bit despairing in your hopelessness. It’s easy to be angry with her, when the true villain is formless.

“I can’t make myself do it,” you choke out, and you have to press your lips together hard right after, swallowing.

“You don’t have to do anything,” Lily promises. She keeps her voice soft and soothing, a caress to your sensitive nerves. A piece of hair falls into your face, and she tucks it back in with the rest, confined to a ponytail at the back of your head. You focus on the gentle scrape of her nails over your scalp. “Just relax, yeah? Let your body do what it needs to.”

You scrunch your face as another wave of nausea roils through you, squeezing a tear out of one eye. Lily coos and ducks down to kiss it away. Her lips are soft against your cheek, unconcerned with your clammy skin or how awful you know your breath must be, and you’re treated to a sight of her pretty green eyes as she stays crouched beside you. They’re kind, worried.

“I know you’re nervous,” she says, “but that wasn’t so bad a few minutes ago, was it?”

“I didn’t love it,” you admit, and she smiles. It’s distractingly lovely. You forget your breathing for a moment, reminded when bile pushes cruelly at the base of your throat. Lily’s expression creases like she can tell.

“You’ll be so happy once it’s done, pretty girl. So long as you sit here thinking about it it’s still happening, but when it’s over, it’s over.”

You think to make a reply, something along the lines of I know but that doesn’t make it easier, when your body overrules you. Lily starts rubbing your back again as you cough and gasp, tears slipping off your nose and into the toilet bowl.

“You’re alright, baby,” she says, sweet-toned and sure. “I’ve got you.”

You pant like a child as you spit the last of it out, and Lily reaches for the cup of water you’d set aside earlier, passing it to you. You swish and spit into the toilet. You lean back into her, and she receives you happily, adjusting so that you’re partially in her lap and brushing your ponytail to the side. She blows cool air on your nape, making you sigh.

“You’re so weird,” she says at your reaction, the smile euphonious in her voice. “Do you feel better this time?”

“I think so,” you answer fretfully.

Lily combats your anxiety with sureness. “I had a feeling you would.” She brushes a kiss against the shell of your ear. “I know that wasn’t easy, sweetheart. Do you want some of your ice cream as a reward?”

You groan. “I don’t want to eat anything ever again.”

“Fair enough,” she laughs. “How about a shower then?”

You tilt your head back, batting your eyelashes at her. “Will you come with me?”

Lily clearly makes an effort to keep her smile at bay, but it shows itself in the happy squint of her eyes. “If you ask me nicely, I’ll do anything you like.”

119 notes · View notes