#poly imagines
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Girl Crush pt. VI
Fem reader! Tom and Zendaya are flirtys and the reader is a mess.
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The first clarification. Part I
Tomorrow is the premiere night.
And reader was in full hopelessness.
She missed the super secret film party they did only for the team, wich included Tobey Maguire and Andrew Garfield.
Of course she was invited but didn't went.
The crew watched all togheter the film for the first time, and reader knew because of the pictures they sent in the group chat.
She didn't watched the whole movie togheter but knew all the surprise plots, anyways.
It's not like she felt excluded for a situation that she put herself on.
It's not like she was hoping that someone might had notice her absence.
And it's not like she wondered herself why them didn't sent her a message asking why she wasn't there.
I mean, the last message they sent was in almost one month ago, it's not like she was used to it, and it's not like they even talked much.
But, they still had reader's number... right?
She was wondering for socialization reasons, of course.
But in one hand, she though that maybe not showing up would be a breath of fresh air.
For her to put her things together before the premiere night, u know.
Reader was getting a little nervous by the audience response, she honestly didn't had much dimension of the scope of her work when she's alone working on it.
She was almost all the time in home office. She could be scared sometimes of how big things in Marvel were outside her house.
So she just sighed. She was only now getting the dimension of it.
In a certain way she kinda knew she deserved the recognition. But these past feel days had been so... weird... that she kinda forgot how big this work was.
So she decided to give a break to herself :)
Her typical mornings were filled with too much caffeine and not enough sleep, as she sleepwalks around her house, trying to make herself a decent breakfest.
But today was different, and reader liked it.
The day started in an not conventional way. She woke with the sound of the bell and ran downstairs to come face to face with a delivery man at her door.
She suddenly gave him a shy look as soon as she saw the boxes in his hands. And maybe thought it was an new pc keyboard she deliverd or something.
But when she said goodbye to the delivery man and went to her desk to see what was inside that box, she couldn't contain a murmur.
It was... the dress.
Not a typical dress. She could see the name of the designer brand inside of it. It was a fancy and expensive dress.
She knew people at work said something about the company providing the clothes for big events but totally forgot.
It was not like the picture they showed her before. It was prettier.
She decided that for a dress like that, it was time to treat herself.
Doing her hair and nails? Yeah, of course, that too.
But most importantly bying herself the new headphones she wanted for while.
That made her feel refreshed, like nothing could do anything to put her down.
She instead of worring so much, went throught the day only doing things she liked to do.
She made herself some tea.
Did her nails in her favorite color.
Did her hair beautifuly.
She had a time for a book she was reading in the moment.
She even did a skin care that she didn't had done for a while.
And also went on social midia and saw people excitement for the film.
And after all the cloudy days, she was having a good one.
She was kinda ignoring tha fact that they said they wanted to meet her at the party and then disappeared.
Not texts at all.
She knew she woudn't answer anyways but yeah...
She expected something, but nothing came.
They probrably didn't even remember she would be there.
Everything was back to normal.
Thinking about the party, she decided it was time to start getting ready.
She took a look on the dress she would wear tonight and it was nothing like her ususal style.
Yeah, it was pretty and all, but she really wasn't expecting it to show so much skin.
At least it was in a silk black. She really liked the fabric of it and it was the big reason she chose it.
After she dressed, she looked in the mirror.
Well, she was feeling pretty, she really felt good. And she smiled, knowing she has to left her sneakers for today.
She went to heals, a little worried.
Because she knew damn well she could easily trip over them.
But honestly they looked so pretty she didn't care. They were in fact pretty unconfortable, but she could handle it.
The next thing was makeup. That's something she find really pretty but had no technique.
She should have hired someone tbh, but left it all to the last minute.
So she just applied what she knew that could not go wrong. A little blush here, an eyeliner and a mascara there, and that was it.
And oh she she did much better than expected.
She honestly hadn't a thing to complain about anything which was new.
So the driver just arrived her home like a kind of celebrity thing.
On her way, she coud feel a nervousness growing.
And she was like aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa.
But then she got 'ok'.
And decided she would just get there, avoid as much people as she could and just sit on the reserved place she had, not really involving much.
And that was what she did.
I mean, she wasn't expecting she would have to walk that red carpet and having photographers taking pictures of her.
She knew she looked a little scared by all the attention.
But she handled the situation well.
Althought she spend the whole party shaking a little.
She just entered that damn event, and went to her reserved place, witch was next to Jon Watts, the director of the film.
And ignoring she was really about to throw up, she smiled at the producers too.
She thought her anxiety was enough to the adrenalin she just lived minutes ago, she was crazy for even thinking that it was bustling.
It was not even ⅓ of the screams and enthusiasm people had when she heard someone say Tom Holland and Zendaya arrived the red carpet.
Like, it was insane. All the attention, screams, crys and enthusiasm were for them.
She tryied by far to even see how they looked, but the second they entered the event, there were so many people around them.
She couldn't even catch their faces for more than two seconds before someone interrupt her vision.
And even when things got calm, it wasn't calm at all.
Because now she could she how stunning they both looked.
And how all the people around seemed to want a bite of them.
And it was kinda pushing her to go away. She didn't know why.
Like, she was getting mad because how can those people look so good?
An intrusive thought.
But the principal reason she wanted to go away is that by her vision, they didn't searched for her any time.
Like, not even with their eyes.
Not even for a second.
They said they would meet her that night, didn't they?
It's not like she really wanted anyways, but she was seeing by the dimension she had of them in that party, they problably just said that thing in the elevator by education.
Like, Zendaya was only being nice because of that awkward meeting.
She felt stupid.
A lot of things went throught her head.
And she only took the champangne on the table and drank.
Maybe one glass only to stop her nervousness.
Maybe two glasses to make her hear calm down a little bit.
Maybe three only to stop that feeling inside her.
And even with some glasses of drinks, she wasn't even close to stop that weird weird sensation.
Crazy how she kept drinking but never been so sober.
Like, what she was expecting to happen tonight? It was supposed to be the life of her big realisation but it turned out to be... it?
Her sitting alone in a table watching all the moviments of the couple by far while everyone around her have fun?
"Hey, you're the responsable by the film effects, right?" Someone asked her and her attention went to the couple for the person.
She wasn't really listening what the person was saying about her work, even tho she really apreciated the praises in the middle of random phrases.
She was really focused on keeping her eyes in the person's face, reader would, at least, don't seem rude.
But out of the corner of her eye, reader could see the famous couple talking and smiling to a beautiful girl she didn't knew.
And oh...
Like, oh...
Suddenly a punch on her stomach.
She felt a little dizzy.
"Excuse me, I need to go to the toilet" reader said, interrupting the person's monologue, and gave him a fake smile, that seemed pretty genuine by the good reaction she recieved.
Reader putted her glass on the table and went in a direction that she actually had no idea where it would take her.
She just needed air.
And maybe hide a little bit.
She just entered in a corner she could see the bustle of people coming and going, and she smiled faintly at one of them, it was a man, who smiled back.
"Sorry, where can I find the toilet?" She asked a little embarassed "I'm a little lost".
The boy gave her the information and she just went to that stupidly big bathroom.
She looked at herself in the mirror, she could see her cheeks were so red.
She washed her hands maybe thinking this could ward off the flash of whatever was happening to her, but it was like trying to hold back water.
Because she didn't knew what was worse: have Zendaya and Tom Holland giving her all the attention or completely ignoring her.
She saw them this night, she knew they were famous but...
They're untouchable.
More than that, she couldn't even see them.
The best thing reader could do to herself was stopping to look at them throught the night.
And maybe go home? If it wasn't early.
She didn't want to look rude or something.
When she went out the bathroom, she heard some steps.
And butterflys went to her stomach.
What if it was them in the corner?
What if they notice she went in that direction and followed her?
She didn't knew what she was thinking anymore.
She was just wishing something happened.
But when someone stumble with her in the corner, it was the same man she asked an information.
"Uhm hi, you didn't look fine before so I came to check if you were okay" he said kindly.
Reader couldn't help her disolate expression.
Maybe she wasn't in fact as sober as she thought.
"I'm fine" reader said, trying to recompose herself. "Thank you for checking" she tried a more friendly tone.
"It's fine, I like taking looks on strangers in partys" he said smiling and reader almost got embarassed by his answer.
She probrably didn't looked restraint and she felt ashamed.
It was definely time to go home.
"Long night, isn't it?" he asked, giving her a complacent smile.
"Yeah" reader said, automaticaly smiling back.
"Well, it seems kinda overwhelming there, I guess it's ok to feel a little... lost." the boy said and reader took a look at him.
He seemed nice. Maybe looked older than her, and didn't seemed like someone famous thank god.
When reader was about to give him a funny answer, she listened some steps at the corner.
But reader didn't looked at it because she was too entertained by the boy.
"That's how scary films start" reader joked, not really paying attention to whoever entered one of the bathrooms.
The boy got closer to her.
"Or love films" he said, and reader almost triped on her own feets.
"What kind of love films have you been watching?" She asked, a little embarassed, and smile a little bit about her own joke.
She definely wasn't as sober as she thought.
"The ones with scary endings" the other respounded and reader got serious.
Maybe it was because the conversation was getting weird.
But the remembering of all the feelings she had that night just hit her again.
"I should go home now" she said, suddenly too quiet almost whispering.
"Well, I guess we could meet again? Maybe? If you want to..." the man sentence just ran in his mounth, reader couldn't tell of he sounded flirty or confident.
Probably the two.
But a little too much for her.
Reader open her mounth to answer but any sentence she mumbles goes unhearable by the suddenly sound of a door opening and someone walking next to them.
See, it was a long corner and no one was around.
So it was almost reliever when Tom Holland just appeared out of nothing, going out the male bathroom.
He just walked close to them, and his expressions were a litte, idk, not friendly?
Reader thought it was because of her. :/
"Excuse me?" he excused himself to continue walking.
It was not like he needed because the corner was huge and he just went to walk... between them.
The boy rush himself at the moment he recognise Thomas. He even gagged a little.
Reader just avoid any eye contact.
Baby just started playing with her fingers.
As soon as Tom walks by her, acting like he didn't knew her, she felt bad.
"Can I have your number?" The man in front of her asked.
Her face went :( and wherever the boy was saying to her, she couldn't listen anymore.
She watched Tom walks away by the corner of her eyes, and she is kinda sad.
But he suddenly stops. And turns back!!!?
The man next to her just goes silent when he sees Tom getting close to them again with his cellphone on his hand.
Baby just looks at Tom a little shocked when he approaches them again.
"Excuse me Y/N" Tom says, looking a little more friendly than before.
Baby just goes red and hated on herself that he had power over that.
She was confused tho. She asked "uhm?" Not like a question, but more like a surprise.
"Jon is looking for you" he said and reader just took a breath "he wants a picture of all the producers together."
For someone looking at them from outside, it was kinda rude to see how Tom just completely ignored the man who was talking with reader.
"Oh" she said and tried to recompose. "Ok" she whispered, but Thomas didn't move.
"Uhm, sorry, I have to go now" she said to the man who was kinda getting embarassed by the whole situation. "Thank you for... you know" she said, really not wanting to extend this.
He opened his mouth like he was about to say something, but closed it again, and gave her a smile "you're welcome" he said "maybe we should stumble over there again."
But before reader even says something, Tom was alrealy placing one of his hands on reader's back and guiding her away.
Reader couldn't contain the feeling of nervousness when he did it.
But Tom noticed the fact she didn't even looked back.
Baby was just too embarassed to say or do something besides walk.
And it got worse when it was only the two of them in the other corner.
Tom just tapped something on his phone with his left hand, the right yet on her back.
He didn't say anything like their previous meetings. And reader didn't knew if it is good or bad.
She kinda wants him to make a joke about her avoiding him. But he just place his phone on his pocket and keeps walking.
The silence only gets broke when reader is about to turn the corner for the party side, but he stops her.
Confused look.
"We should come this side" he says, and reader doesn't question.
She is just too afraid to say something and it end up embarassing her even more.
So she just follows him and when opens the door of a random room, she is kinda scary.
She is a little nervous and unsure.
She is a little dizzy and shaken.
Baby is confused.
But she goes for it anyways.
And what she founds inside the door is a normal secretary office.
With a normal table in the middle, normal chairs in the back and some normal books in the closet on the side of it.
Apart from the fact that Zendaya was there inside with her cell phone in her hand, everything seemed normal.
And the fact that the couple were giving her the most serious looks was a little too hard to believe.
The fact Zendaya smiled a little and said "hi" too shyly was breathtaking.
And the fact Tom said "Let's talk" with the most raspy voice was heartstopper.
#tomdaya x reader#tomdaya#tomdaya scenarios#tomdaya imagine#poly imagines#zendaya x reader#tom holland x reader
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IM BACK
i got locked out of my acc for a while ;-;
anyways i'm back and i am obsessed with the black phone so please please PLEASE drop some requests!
no smut bc i'm asexual && a minor
#robin arellano x reader#the black phone x reader#the black phone#finney blake x reader#vance hopper x reader#bruce yamada x reader#billy showalter x reader#tbp#tbp era#imagines#poly imagines#romantic#platonic#no smut
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I'm writing my poly imagine as we speak jsjs. Hopefully I'll finish it today and publish it soon. :)
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❝i am half-agony, half-hope. . . i have loved none but you.❞
summary: how the marauders loved you in their time. featuring harry potter the time-traveller and sixth-wheel.
pairing/s: poly!marauders x reader. (james potter x reader, lily evans x reader, remus lupin x reader, and sirius black x reader.)
tags: reader is referred to as she/her and a mother throughout the whole fic[!], reader is a violent gremlin who craves blood but the marauders love you for that, implied child abuse[!], mentions of blood and violence[!], disgustingly sappy poetic fluff, no angst, happy ending, not proofread we die like finnick odair, edited: very minor detail.
note: there is little plot, it’s just the marauders and their adoration for you. thank you all so much for your kind responses to my first marauders fic :(( ilysm! i hope you enjoy this one as well! because there are parts when i was writing that i ended up kicking my feet in the air and smiling to myself.
“MY NAME IS HARRY POTTER. I come from twenty-years in the future, you’re my mum — one of my ‘em, actually. It’s complicated. And you’re married to James Potter, Remus Lupin, and Sirius Black.”
You blink.
“Get the fuck out of my room!”
Harry James Potter has dodged many things in his life. Killing curses, jinxes, girls, Draco Malfoy, and Dudley’s sloppy punches, but he’s never had to dodge his sixteen-year-old mother’s fuzzy slipper before. (Godric, that sounds weird, even in his head.) He doesn’t know precisely how he arrived here. In the Slytherin common room, to be exact, in your dorm. Harry remembers duelling with Death Eaters, Hermione calling his name, and a flash of light hitting him square in the chest, then he remembers waking up in the cold tiles of the snake dungeon. He nearly throws himself off the window when he meets your eyes, bleary from interrupted sleep — it’s not often he gets to meet [read: one of] his dead parents, after all, three had been brutally murdered by Voldemort, and one killed by his own loony cousin. He misses Sirius, though. A lot. And right about now, he could do with some of Hermione’s nagging and brilliant plan-making.
At present — or past, Harry guesses — he watches you scramble out from your duvet, hand clumsily reaching for your wand as you snarl at him. He wonders if his mother knows that he’s encountered other creatures far more threatening than her. Oh shit, he realizes with all the forces of an angry Hermione Granger, isn’t this the last thing he’s supposed to do? But, well, Harry has given, and given, so much of himself all for the greater good — just this once, he’d like to see his parents alive and well. Even if they were currently trying to blast him into the walls.
“If you’d just let me explain, mum—!” Harry pleads, nearly dropping his glasses after dodging one of your stinging hexes. Godric, you’re crazy. “Please!”
“Stop calling me that!” You screech, eyes set ablaze. Harry finds that you’re quite dynamic with your attacks. A hairbrush, followed by a stinging jinx, then a thick History of Magic textbook — which rudely hits him in the face, but he doesn’t dare complain because you’re his mother, and he’s respectful like that — and after you’ve exhausted your breath, running him into a corner, and your nostrils flare with the stubbornness of a lion, you point the tip of your wand at him. “If this is another one of the Prewett’s shitty pranks, I want you to leave! You are in the girls’ dormitory beyond midnight, and so help me, if you aren’t walking out that door in the next five seconds, I will kill you and string you up by your bottoms for everyone in school to see! Maybe all your stupid rumours of me being a Death-Eater might come true after all!”
“You’re a Death-Eater?” Harry asks dumbly.
You growl furiously, and Harry figures that was not the right thing to say. “I wonder what McGonagall would say if I delivered your head to her on a silver platter.”
“Professor,” Harry corrects with a toothy grin. “Professor McGonagall.”
You slam his head against the wall.
Definitely the wrong thing to say.
Harry groans, little Dobby heads floating around his vision. Why was this so much harder than actually facing Voldemort? Quick, he needed to think of something, otherwise he’d end up eviscerated to ashes on your cold, stone floors. Harry is pretty sure you’d use his remains as decoration to send off a message to your enemies.
“You hate your father,” Harry slurs through the pain, remembering Remus’s stories of how you were the gentlest magical being he’s ever had the privilege to love — now that Harry thinks about it, Remus was being extremely biased, nothing about you is gentle at all. “He’s forcing you to marry someone old enough to be your grandfather. You love to read Muggle literature but had to stop when your father burnt your whole collection of books. Your favorite novel is Persuasion by Jane Austen. It’s the one book you carry with you everywhere, you could never get tired of it.”
Your grip on his shoulders falters, but the fury in your eyes crackles. “This isn’t funny.”
“It’s not meant to be funny, mum,” Harry croaks, voice cracking pathetically — strange how this is the most he’s ever uttered the word, mum; it’s a peculiar string of letters, foreign on his tongue. “You have tremors in your left leg from when your father cast the Cruciatus curse on you. One of your dearest friends is a Hogwarts house-elf named Pipley. You cheated on your Transfiguration essay once, and—”
“That’s enough!” You bark, eyes narrowed in dangerous slits. “I don’t know where you heard those from, you creepy, little stalker, but if you want to keep breathing, then I suggest you shut up.”
Harry scoffs — you don’t understand. Everything he’s learned about you is from Sirius and Remus. They talk about you with whispered devotion, your name like a prayer on their lips, their eyes glazed with wistfulness as though they could see you reaching out for them — but you were dead in Harry’s time. Yet, you might as well have been alive with their tales of you.
(“She’s a different kind of beautiful,” Sirius had said, a year after breaking out from Azkaban, sitting by the fire in Grimmauld Place, taking a swig of decade-old firewhiskey, “The kind of beautiful you don’t want to take your eyes off from because you’re afraid she’ll disappear from your eyes. But you won’t forget her, oh no, you’ll memorize the freckles and moles on her skin, the scars from her years, the light in her eyes, and the way she holds her head up high. You should have seen her, James, she. . . she was — is glorious.”)
“I told you,” says Harry firmly — although he loves his mother very much, she’s beginning to wear him out, “My name is Harry James Potter, I come from twenty-years in the future. You are one of my parents.” A lightbulb flashes in his head. He squirms in your hold, reaching for his robe pocket until he finds the thing he’s looking for. Harry dangles the ring in front of you, grinning in success when your eyes flash in recognition. “It’s—”
“A family heirloom,” You say breathlessly. The alexandrite winks under the light, a familiar gold band with the Latin inscription of your House words. “Where did you steal this from?”
Harry rolls his eyes. “You left it for me in my Gringotts vault. It’s my heirloom now. You have to believe me, there’s no way you can deny this.”
You take a step backwards, nibbling on your lower lip, as you stagger to your bed — Harry nearly stumbling to catch you in case you fell; adjusting to the living proof of time travel was quite difficult, he, of all people, should know. He exhales, dragging a hand down his face. “Magic, amirite?”
You throw a pillow at him, which he catches gracefully thanks to his Seeker reflexes, as you plop down in the comforts of your quilts. “Sleep. The other girls won’t be back until the end of the holiday. We can deal with whatever this is in the morning. It’s way too early for me to process the idea of a future Potter spawn following me around.”
Harry smiles. “Yes, mum.”
ONE THING THAT his fathers failed to tell him about you, and that Harry had to learn himself, was that you took ages to get ready. You sat on the chair in front of your vanity mirror, the birch wood legs whittled with snakes, and it was as though you had a Sticking Charm on the cushion. Harry didn’t know there could be so many creams, oils, and serums, and powders one put on their face. He blanches when you turn to offer him a cream for his under eyes. (“Suit yourself.” You shrug, turning to brush your cheek with dusts of pink. “Just saying, those dark circles aren’t doing you any favors.”)
“What am I like in the future?” You ask, a kind lilt to your voice, much like a warm hug, much like home.
Harry stiffens, shoving his hands in pockets of the robes that were twice his size — you had given him the garments of Lucius Malfoy to change in, which you apparently had stolen from his room. It’s come full circle, really, the Sorting Hat had once told him he would be great in Slytherin, and now here he was, looking fabulous in green — because he was about to hurl at the feel of the velvet on his skin, knowing slimy Lucius Malfoy had worn it. (“No son—” You pause with a tight purse in your lips, as if you still can’t accept the fact. Harry doesn’t blame you. “—no son of mine will be parading around in red of all colors, future or not.” And Harry finds that he really doesn’t care, so long as you call him your son.)
“Loved,” replies Harry gruffly, avoiding your eyes in the reflection of your mirror — they were piercing. One look and Harry wanted to spill all of his deepest, darkest secrets. He remembers the photographs in his album, the one he’s stared at so many times as a child. It’s a moving photograph of the five of you, fresh out of Hogwarts, each wearing a smile that stretched from ear-to-ear. Before Sirius and Remus, it was the only semblance of proof that Harry had — that you had once been alive. Remus is holding you by the waist in the picture, twirling you around as autumn leaves fell. You were — are — loved, and Harry thinks there’s no better description than that.
(“I bloody hated her cat,” says Remus with a roguish quirk to his lips, regalling Harry with more talks of his parents. “Sirius, too. We just never got along with the little creature. But your mother loved it, and we would have done anything to make her happy. She deserved it, you see. She deserved more than what I had to offer her, but still she chose me anyway. And I am a selfish man, Harry, I crave glimpses of her and the whispers of her voice. She has made me a mad man whose only reprieve is her touch.”)
You hum knowingly. “Stupid question, I guess. Since you aren’t allowed to reveal anything more about the future.” You sigh, gracefully threading your arms in the sleeves of your shirt, a green tie in the center of your collar. “Except, of course, when you gave me a heart attack in the middle of the night by telling me the last thing I want to become — no offense, I just don’t see how a relationship with those rowdy bunch would work. They get on my nerves far too much for me to ever feel anything other than disgust.”
Harry doesn’t need a mirror to see that his expression has contorted in confusion; brows knitted and upper lip crinkled. By their memories of you, you all were madly in love in Hogwarts. Damn. This just made his trip to the past a lot harder. No maze seems to be ever just a maze.
Luckily, you don’t notice him brewing a grand master plan to bring his parents together. Instead, you say, “But you don’t seem to be phased by any of this. If I had been thrown twenty years into the past, I would have puked my guts out twice at some point.”
“Thanks for the image,” says Harry with a scowl. Truthfully, it had either been a present with a noseless Dark Lord to face, trauma to unpack but really never have the chance to, or a past where all of his parents were alive, and a chance to talk with them for however long he has. He knows where he’ll be staying, thank you very much.
“Anytime,” You reply with an impish smile.
Your heels pad across the floor as you walk over to him, mouth clicking as you pat the top of his head, full of wild, untameable Potter hair. “You need a trim soon,” You mutter, frowning, as you brush the thick strands away from his eyes, then you gasp — and Harry knows exactly what’s coming next. “Oh, you’ve got Evans’s eyes. That’s freaky.”
“I know.” Harry grins.
“Here’s the plan,” You say as you lead him out of your room, making sure no one saw him walking out of your door and getting the wrong impression — because that would be so wrong on many levels, but also, explaining to someone else that the person beside you was a time-traveller was just complicated in general. The Slytherin dungeon is unfamiliarly familiar, eerily quiet, as the two of you made your way out. “Just say you’re Potter’s distant relative, twice or thrice removed, and you’ve always been here. If you lie to their faces enough, they’ll believe it eventually.”
“Will that work?” Harry doesn’t really mind — he needs a connection to James, his father, if he’s going to work out a connection between you and the others, because at the moment, it doesn’t seem like you’re too fond of them. There’s a tick on your jaw every time you mumble the word, Potter. Nevertheless, Harry decides he’s going to spend the duration of the holiday break trying to set you up with them — on the list of most insane things he’s ever done, living out the Parent Trap was high up the tally.
You shrug. “They’ve fallen for less.”
(“She’s got this adorable habit when she lies,” Sirius tells Harry, whipping up a stack of pancakes for their breakfast — Remus browsing through the morning paper. It’s the closest he’s ever been to a normal family. “It’s not obvious to her, of course, but I know her more than I know my own name. So we play along with it.” For a moment, he stops drizzling the maple syrup on the well-cooked batter, gazing at Remus fondly. “D’you remember that, Moony? She led us straight to one of her pranks, and we ended up covered in slug slime. She was so obvious — with her adorable fucking giggles. I need help with Charms, she said, and we knew right away it was a set-up. But it didn’t matter. I’d happily let her lead me to my ruin.”)
The Great Hall is the same as Harry remembers. Now that most have returned home for the holidays, those who stay back mingle with students from other Houses, sharing meals under the bewitched ceiling, their low murmurs and hushed Christmas greetings bouncing off the walls. Harry scours the four tables to find a hint of blazing red hair, or the scent of impending trouble. Fortunately, he doesn’t have to search very far. As fate would have it, James Potter finds you — and where he is, Sirius Black is sure to follow.
You’re barely seated when James comes bounding over to your table — more precisely, he struts, and Harry is horrified to ever be proven wrong by Snape, of all people. He ignores the roll of your eyes as he drags a leg over the bench, sitting to face you as Sirius occupies the space to your left before Harry can even sit down. He can’t even fathom how weird it is to see his parents as rambunctious teenagers. Lovesick, rambunctious teenagers.
“Morning, dove.” James preens under your glare, stealing a grape from your bowl with a boyish smirk. His hair looks as though he’s ran his hand through it many times. “You look ravishing today.”
“As always,” Sirius pipes in. “But that eyeshadow really isn’t complementing your skin tone, my darling.”
You smile at him, right before your lips twist into a cutthroat sneer. “Piss off, Black.”
James stifles a laugh as he shovels a mass of potatoes on your plate, then pumpkin pasties, and slides a steaming cup of Dragon Well tea in front of you.
“What the hell are you doing, Potter?” You reach over to smack his arm when he sprinkles apple slices and bacon on your breakfast.
“What does it look like?” James smiles lopsidedly. “You need to eat more, honey.”
(In the future, Sirius will tell Harry, “It started off as a joke, a way to get on her nerves — but then, it just became this thing about taking care of her, making sure she got enough sleep before her tests, wondering if she had breakfast or dinner, staying with her in the library, walking her to the Slytherin common room, and sending her stupid notes just to make her laugh. You don’t get it, Harry. I’d give my every breath to ensure her life. We all would.” Harry doesn’t see Sirius any more during that evening, but he hears a bottle crashing against a wall, cracking into a million pieces, and the masked sound of Sirius sobbing, and Harry decides to leave him alone for the night.)
Then, you tear your eyes away from James — he huffs, pushing your plate to you, mildly annoyed that you’ve deprived him of your eyes; they were his favorite part of you, you see, so expressive and full of life; James thinks you put the stars to shame — and thankfully, you remember that Harry still exists. You lightly smack Sirius’s leg until he gives Harry some room to sit. “Potter, meet other Potter. It’s the holidays, shouldn’t it be the perfect time to let go of House prejudices and spend time with family?”
James looks at Harry up and down. “You must be from dad’s side of the family with all that hair.”
Harry lets out a breath of relief. That was easy — way too easy. When he takes the vacant space in between you and Sirius, you dump all the available food on his plate, just as James had done for you.
“Eat,” You say with a tone of finality. “You look like the wind could snap you in half.”
“Yes, m—” Harry stops himself before he could finish his sentence, avoiding Sirius’s curious gaze.
“Wow.” Sirius pokes Harry in the shoulder and in the cheek. “You really look like a mini-James, you’ve even got his terrible eyesight.”
“Oi!”
Your fork clatters against the silverware as you turn to Sirius with a shrill. “Not that I do enjoy your company — because, trust me, I do not want you here at all and would very much prefer if you got out of my sight — but why are you here? The Gryffindor table is over there. Unless your housemates finally got sick of you, Potter, which I can definitely see happening.”
James chuckles, tossing another grape in his mouth without taking his eyes off you. “It’s as you said, isn’t it? It’s the time for putting aside House prejudices. And I think it’s a lovely day to enjoy a meal with my favorite snake.”
“Drop dead,” You retort, digging into your chicken with a little more force than necessary.
“Oh, dove.” James shakes his head, a teasing grin pulling at his lips. “It’s cute that you think death will keep me from you.”
(Harry’s been told before, probably by Sirius, that this line had been wedged into his wedding vows for you. “A dramatic one, James was,” Sirius chuckles to himself one morning, Harry and Hermione listening intently, “He always said he’d rather die than ever hurt her. There was this time in seventh year, they had a fight — it was ugly — and she had ignored him for a week. James cried in Remus’s arms begging him to cut his heart out, saying that he didn’t deserve to keep on breathing, not after making you cry.”)
“That is so creepy,” You say in disgust, scrunching your nose. Sirius chortles at your side. “I still wonder why Evans agreed to go out with you.”
“It’s all part of the charm, dove.” James winks. “It’s all part of the charm.”
Harry wants to barf, actually.
After breakfast, James then decides to introduce Harry to Lily, Remus, and Peter. (He’s gonna need the patience of a saint to not Avada Kedavra that rat on the spot.) Harry had spent the whole morning watching Sirius peel oranges and give them to you with a smitten look in his eyes — naturally, you gave whatever Sirius offered you to Harry, and each time Padfoot would visibly wilt. If he were in his Animagus form, Harry thinks he would be whining by now, tongue out and all. James and Sirius follow after you like lost puppies when you extricate yourself from the table.
“Where are you going?” James calls, hot on your heels as you leave the Great Hall.
“Away from you, Potter!”
And James actually sighs when you turn the corner and disappear from their peripheral vision. Seconds later, he turns to Harry with a blinding smile, “She’s definitely charmed.”
Harry chortles.
“Well, come on then!” James guffaws as he wraps an arm around Harry’s neck — this is so, so strange. They begin walking in the opposite direction of where you went. “I still can’t believe we’ve got another Potter here and in Slytherin. I think I would have remembered Minnie calling your name during the Sorting Ceremony. What year are you in?”
He’s supposed to start his sixth-year in a few weeks. “Fifth.” Technically.
“We should ask Lily,” says Sirius, hands in his pockets and ebony ringlets tickling his nape. “She’s got the best memory out of all of us.”
It’s odd, Harry thinks, meeting the person who’s got his eyes — or the other way around, as people have told him. It’s like someone carved out the emeralds of Lily Evans’s eyes and bestowed it upon Harry for safekeeping. She sits beside Remus Lupin, head resting on his shoulder, hands clasped together, as they enjoy the shade. Nex to them, oblivious to their intimate conversation, is Peter Pettigrew — with his rosy, cherub cheeks and innocent blue eyes; not at all the image of a pathological, cowardly liar. Their heads snap in attention as James boisterously cries for their name.
“Marauders — and Lily-pad — meet ickle Potter.” James lightheartedly whacks Harry on the back, to which Harry feels his lungs spill out from his mouth, he’s sure there’s an imprint of his father’s hand on his back now.
“There’s two Potters in Hogwarts?” Sea-green eyes look at him in scrutiny as Lily knits her brows. “How even is the castle still standing?”
James cackles like it’s the best joke he’s ever heard in his entire life, slapping his knee for dramatic effect. Oh, well, at least they’re buying Harry’s half-baked lie. At this point, it’s not even baked, it’s just wet, soggy, and poorly done. “Good one, Lily-pad!”
Sirius ruffles Remus’s shaggy blonde hair, canines bared in a wide grin. “This one here’s Moony, uptight prefect in the morning and absolute beast in the evening.”
Harry blanches. Surely he was talking about his furry problem, right? Right?
Remus doesn’t even flinch, just peels off Sirius’s hand from him and extends his hand out to Harry. “Please do not mind him. Remus Lupin, nice to meet you. Although, I can’t believe this is the first time we’ve met. We would have definitely remembered if we had another Potter in our midst.”
“It’s true, we Potters are just hard to forget,” says James, smiling cheekily.
Harry pokes the inside of his cheek with his tongue. “Mum didn’t take the Potter name. I’m part Dursley. Muggle.”
Lily hums, toying at the ends of her bright hair. “Dursley, huh? What a familiar name.”
“It’s a common one,” Harry assures her — not at all the names of the people who would take him in after they died. And make his life miserable.
“I suppose you’re right,” says Lily, unconvinced.
“And this is Peter.” James introduces the boy eagerly, pride in his voice — as though this isn’t the person who literally allies himself with Voldemort. As if Peter won’t betray his friends all because of fear.
“N–Nice to meet you,” Peter stammers with a nervous fidget, “Any family of James is a friend of ours.”
Harry’s eye twitches.
IT IS ALMOST COMICAL — the way their eyes land on your figure, bursting through the courtyard from the corridors, winter cloak swishing with every step, tendrils of hair swaying in the crisp wind, and head held up high, thick books under your arms. You pause in front of the Marauders, face blank, then you turn to Peter, greeting him with a: “Hello, only Gryffindor I can tolerate.”
Peter’s cheeks burn a saccharine hue of pink. Oh, no, no, no — absolutely not — Harry will not stand for a little crush Peter Pettigrew has on his mother. He needs James to act now. “Hi,” Peter replies shyly.
Lily quirks her lips. “Hello, princess, see your score for the Astronomy test yet?”
You scowl. “Zip it, Evans.”
The sound of Lily’s laughter fills the atmosphere — it’s the sort of melody that makes flowers bloom in deserts. “Had a bit of difficulty with the star charts?”
Sirius pinches your cheek — Harry thinks you’re going to murder him on the spot. “Difficulty? I think this one just slept through the whole thing.”
James snickers. “Must have been one hell of a nap, princess. You were drooling on my jumper.”
“I most certainly do not drool!” You gasp, appalled, eyes wide as you step away from Sirius.
Sirius rolls his eyes. “What? Is drooling too barbaric for the pretty, little pure-blooded princess now? Newsflash, pet, you’re just as human as we are.”
“Oh, you horrible, loathsome, infuriating—” You whip around to beat his chest with the course book in your grasp — it’s the kind of book Hermione would consider for light reading.
“Irresistibly attractive—?” Sirius supplies for you, grin widening with as he captures your wrist with his hands.
“In your dreams!” You shrill.
You exhale slowly, eyes closing, chest rising when you take a sharp inhale. You open your eyes and stare straight at Harry — for a moment he fears that you’ll bite his head off. “Harry, dear, will you accompany me to the library? I think I’ve found something important regarding your situation.”
Harry nods. “Is it time already?”
“Yes,” You say firmly. “And time is of the essence. Come on.”
“Wait!” Lily calls out to you as you turn to head back to the castle, Harry in tow — he tries to avoid the way James is glaring at your linked arms. “Hogsmeade next week?”
Your jaw falls to the ground — this must have been unrehearsed, if the others’ reactions were anything to go by; Remus had dropped his book in shock, Sirius looked like he couldn’t decide between applauding Lily’s bravery or shaking her, and James was somehow frozen in time. “Excuse me?”
“You’re excused, princess,” says Lily, dimples poking out of her cheek as she takes another step towards you. “You, me, Hogsmeade. A date. I’m sure you’ve gone on one of those before.”
Harry elbows your stomach as you stare at Lily in shock. It takes a few moments to break you out of your stupor. “A–And what makes you think I’ll just go with you?”
Lily shrugs. “I’m fit. Aren’t I, Remus?”
“The fittest,” says Remus without missing a beat.
You laugh incredulously. “Do you just expect me to go along with this? You’re mad, Evans.”
Harry glares at you. You need to go along with this.
“Are you scared, princess?” Lily’s face is inches away from yours, noses almost touching — Harry doesn’t know if he should keep watching this painful way of flirting — as she grins at you, happiness barely contained within her eyes.
To your credit, you don’t back down. (Harry has to say this for the masses: he saw your gaze flitter down to Lily’s lips for a split second.) “Stop calling me that, Evans.”
“One date, then.”
You growl in exasperation, eyes flickering to the boys behind her back — pretending not to hear their conversation. “I suppose I’ll have to deal with them as well?”
Lily beams and Harry swears sunflowers could grow in her direction. “We’re a package deal.”
“Unfortunately,” You utter — but Harry notices it, the lack of venom in your voice. You straighten your posture, nose lifted haughtily, “I choose where we’re going.”
“Done.” The sun peeks out from the cloud just as Lily smiles at you.
“And I want to—”
“Done,” Remus interjects raspily, peering up at you from underneath his lashes. “Anything you want, it’s yours.”
You fight a growing smile, but continue, “If we’re going out in public, you’re going to have to wear—”
“Done,” says James giddily, he looks as though he could kiss you in front of everyone without a care in the world.
“You can’t just agree to anything I say!” You flap your arms in frustration.
“Yes, dear,” Sirius teases.
“Do you know how much you piss me off, Black?” You squawk. “Because you are this close to—”
“You are so fucking beautiful,” Sirius confesses, every pretense shed raw from his skin, sincerity pouring from his words.
“I—” You falter, heat rushing to your cheeks. “You’ve gone mad.”
“It’s your fault, dove,” says James, eyes twinkling like crescent moons as he smiles. “You best take accountability for this.”
“You’re incorrigible — all of you,” You say as you avoid their gazes.
(But they were yours. Past, present, and future. They loved you so much that their soul was no longer their own — it was yours; yours to keep, yours to break, and yours to love. It would be unjust to ask them why they loved you. Do we ask why the sun rises each day without rest? Do we ask a daisy to stop blooming, or a tree to stop growing after it has endured storms and floods? After all, we do not ask why humans follow the light in a tunnel shrouded in darkness.)
“Come on, Harry, let’s go.” You reach for his hand, he notices immediately that the tips of your ears are pink, and your palms are warm with sweat. He barely sees Peter wave goodbye before you tug him in the direction of the castle entrance.
“Wait up!” Remus catches up to you two in quick strides, offering to carry your books for you — not that you agree, stubborn Slytherin that you are. “I’ll walk you to the library.”
“There’s no need for that, Lupin, thank you.” You dodge his eyes, lips tightly pressed together, nails slightly digging into Harry’s arm.
“Remus,” He says with a twinkle. “Call me Remus.”
“Alright.” You pause. “Remus.”
(In that moment, Remus wonders if you remember decking Lucius Malfoy in the face to defend him in your fourth year. He didn’t think he deserved to even breathe in the same air as you — the pure-blooded princess, dressed in clothing worth more than his life, adorned in jewelry he could only dream to afford, raised to believe she was better than everyone else. Then, you beat up Evan Rosier the next month in the courtyard, eyes ablaze, extravagant silk marred with grass stains and mud, and knuckles split open. You spit blood on the ground, looking at Lily then back at Rosier. “Red,” You say, kicking him one last time in the stomach, unafraid of McGonagall’s wrath growing louder and louder. “Just like everyone else. Like those Muggleborns you fear. We’ve all got dirty blood, Rosier. Suck it up.”
“I’ll tell your father about this!” Rosier bellows through bloody teeth.
“Tell him!” You grab his neck and slam your forehead against his. “Tell him that I decide my own future now!”
Remus doesn’t even have to think about it.
He falls in love.)
FUNNILY ENOUGH, IT’S LILY who gives you her heart first, before anyone else does. It’s the last month of her first year at Hogwarts — it still hasn’t quite sunk in yet that she was a witch. Her, not Petunia, but her — Lily Evans, the witch. Apparently, some people can’t believe it either. A girl from Ravenclaw calls her this foul word, she’s heard it a few times now but it always hurts the same. James and Sirius get into a fight for her honor, now faced with detention later this evening. But she can’t help but wonder, what if they were right? What if she really didn’t belong in this world? It was too good to be true, anyway. Perhaps she’ll just run a flower boutique with Petunia.
“Oi.”
The sound of your voice startles her, and she nearly topples over in the Great Lake. Lily catches sight of your Slytherin colors and resigns herself to another round of name-calling. “What do you want?”
“They’re wrong, you know,” You tell her, ignoring Lily’s question. You look down on her with your nose raised arrogantly — she wishes she could be like you. Born to be magic. “You’ve got a terrifying brain locked up in your head there, Evans. And they know it, too. They’re scared.”
Lily scoffs. “I’m just a Mudblood to them. There’s nothing to be intimidated by.”
You sneer. “Don’t say that word. You’re more than that. More than them. They’ve got long ways to go to prove they have a place in this world. But you — you’ve defied the odds and you were destined to become magic. You don’t have to prove anything. You have the right to be in the wizarding world and no one can take that away from you.”
Then, you pivot on your heels, not bothering to hear her reply. “You’re my rival now, Evans. Do keep up. We’ve got an Astronomy test tomorrow. I look forward to seeing how you do then.”
Lily just gapes. She’s certain there’s butterflies in her stomach. Her heart thumps wildly against her ribcage. Lily raises her hands to feel her blushing cheeks. There’s a light unfamiliar sensation in her stomach — like the urge to kick her legs and scream into a pillow, or more precisely, chase after you and hold your hand.
She stiffens.
Oh.
part two
#hp angst#hp fluff#hp imagine#hp x reader#james potter x reader#lily evans x reader#marauders angst#marauders fluff#marauders imagine#marauders x reader#sirius black x reader#poly!marauders x reader#poly!marauders fluff#remus lupin x reader
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✎ . . .❝GOOD GRIEF, SUGURU!❞
— minors dni, period cramps, poly!satosugu rs, established relationship, jokes about period sex (from Suguru lmao), suggestive comments, i wrote this when my uterus was uppercutting my ass
You read recently that a broken femur and childbirth are two of the most painful things a human could experience. The way these cramps feel at the moment, you’re willing to fight someone on that.
“No more of these.”
Gojo snorts. It’s like Geto just revealed the worst news in the world, when in reality he’s just concerned for your health.
Your head jerks to look at him, blinking rounded, puppy dog eyes and hand still reaching for the bottle of pain meds. “Satoru, make him!”
He glances back at Geto, who’s tucking the small pill bottle into his pocket and giving Gojo a sinister side-eye that he doesn’t like being on the receiving end of. “ ‘Fraid I can’t help ya this time, baby, Suguru’s word is law.”
“A lie!,” you whine and try to stuff your hands in Suguru’s pockets. “Suguruu!”
“Darling, you’ve taken enough of these already.,” Geto tries to console you, fingers combing your hair as you bury your face in his neck. “It’s not safe to take anymore within 12 hours. You’ll have to hold off for a bit, my love.”
Your pitiful whine breaks both their hearts, and Satoru reaches for another one of the dark chocolate bars he'd bought for you earlier. “Here, open wide. These should help ease your pain, yeah?”
You sniffle, groaning. “You eat it, 's not workin' for me.”
A beat passes before Satoru replaces the candy bar on his nightstand. “I’ll start running you a warm bath, then. That sound good?”
“. .Okay.” It comes out a feeble whisper, and you shiver in Suguru’s arms. “My nipples hurt.”
Satoru is thankfully out of earshot for that comment, but Geto hears you loud and clear, thumbs massaging the backs of your sore thighs. “I’ll suck on them later.”
“No.,” you mumble into his neck. “You’re gonna try and fuck me after.”
A low chuckle rumbles in his chest, a soothing vibration. “Maybe.”
“Gross.”
Geto's shoulders tremble as he tries to hold in his laughter. "Ya know orgasms help reduce cramping, too?"
“You would know something like that, weirdo." Your head turns and you catch a peek at the upturn of his lips. "Besides, I don't want blood all over us.”
“Surely it's nothing I can’t lick up?”
“Good grief, Suguru!,” you push yourself up and away from him, scowling at his laughter and the smirk on his face. “You’re disgusting!”
Satoru calls from the bathroom. “Is he talking about period sex again?”
#satosugu x reader#poly! satosugu#poly satosugu#satoru x reader#suguru x reader#jjk x reader#satosugu x reader imagine#satoru gojo x reader#gojo x reader#geto x reader#suguru geto x reader
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in regards to perv!marauders . . . theyd so get off on the more innocent pics of you— it could be a polaroid of you smiling and it’d be covered in cum by the end of the summer bcos your innocence is so hot to them
i am losing my mind at the thought of this. the mere thought of corrupting you torments perv!marauders and something about the contrast of their filth paired with your seemingly pure disposition makes their cock throb.
the photo usually always comprises you beaming, presumably looking up at them through the camera, batting your eyelashes prettily, looking so radiant and cute. i can picture a photo of you leaning against their palm, their large hands caressing your cheek while you peer up at them. maybe it’s that sleepy look of yours; maybe it’s your flushed face or your puffy, watery eyes; or perhaps it’s the gloss on your lips that makes you look so girly and kissable that has them groaning into their pillow as they fist their aching cock late into the night, feverish and frantic to cum to the sight of you.
it's not only your innocence that gets them off, but it's the thought of ruining it that drives them to the edge. all of them would repeatedly fantasize about making you just as desperate as they are for you. they want nothing more than for you to look up at them—a betrayed, foggy look in your lust-filled eyes—begging them to take you again because three rounds simply aren’t enough and you're far too addicted to their cocks stretching out your ruined cunt to stop.
#perv!marauders crying kink is something that needs to be discussed because it very much exists i fear#remus lupin smut#remus lupin x reader#sirius black smut#sirius black x reader#james potter smut#james potter x reader#poly!marauders#poly!marauders smut#poly!marauders x reader#harry potter smut#harry potter x reader#remus lupin imagine#sirius black imagine#james potter imagine#harry potter imagine#remus lupin blurb#sirius black blurb#james potter blurb#harry potter blurb#remus lupin fluff#sirius black fluff#james potter fluff#harry potter fluff#remus lupin fanfic#sirius black fanfiction#james potter fanfiction#remus lupin#sirius black#james potter
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James being a big bear of a boyfriend and always just like lifting u up so easily to hug and sit on his lap and even tho u hate when anyone else does it he’s so BEEFY that you’re fine with him doing it
Yessssss I'm not much of a physical touch person irl but James I would allow
poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 847 words
Sirius is trying to follow Remus’ example and focus on the puzzle, but his eyes keep flitting up to you worriedly. You’ve monopolized the couch, laying flat with a hand cast over your eyes and your mouth pinched in obvious discomfort. He’d tried rubbing your calf and Remus had offered you tea, but they’d both given up when the attention only seemed to worsen your mood. Remus suggested they work on the puzzle while you rest (not Sirius’ favorite activity, but forced upon him because it keeps him quiet) and now they’re both simply trying not incur your wrath.
“Quit looking at me,” you growl without opening your eyes.
In Sirius’ case, not doing a very good job.
“Fine, sheesh,” he says, and you press your lips together like you’re restraining yourself from snapping at him.
You cringe when the door opens, every line of you pulling taut. James is all smiles as he tosses his gym bag to the floor with a heavy thump. “Hello, my loves!” His voice is a decibel short of booming, but it softens when he sees you on the couch. “Oh, sorry, is she napping?”
Remus shakes his head, lips pursed as he watches your hand tighten over your eyes. “Headache,” he explains quietly.
“Oh, I’m sorry lovie.” James reroutes from the kitchen, heading for you. Sirius tenses. “How bad is it?”
“Prongs,” Sirius whispers urgently, “don’t—”
But James has already lifted you, one hand under your knees and another supporting your back as he moves you smoothly from your chosen position of rest and into his lap. He makes it look like nothing, which is the first offense (Sirius isn’t sure which of you he’s more jealous of), but the second is that you let him. Sirius and Remus have both looked up in alarm, waiting for a biting protest that doesn’t come. Instead, you remove your hand from your face, burying in it James’ brawny shoulder instead.
“Bad,” you grumble, but your tone lacks the venom you’d spat at Sirius a moment before.
James coos like he’s got a kitten in his lap instead of a viper, bringing his considerable arms around you. His palm cups the back of your neck, kneading gently at the tensed muscles there. “Where does it hurt, darling?”
“Everywhere.”
“By your eyes?”
“No.”
He hums, brows furrowing as he works steadily at your neck. You’ve gone nearly lax in his arms, trusting him to hold you up as you slump against his front. “Have you been drinking water?”
“It’s not that.” Some of the irritation is back in your tone, Sirius notices, but it’s been markedly softened for James. “I had tons of water this morning.”
“Probably a tension headache then, yeah?” He looks to Remus, who nods. The quiet boy looks as dumbstruck as Sirius feels.
James moves his grip to your sides and lifts you again, rearranging his legs to get more comfortable before placing you back in his lap. He places a hand on each side of your head, thumbs pushing into your temples and rubbing in slow, soothing circles. You begin to look like you might fall asleep.
“This is so unfair,” Sirius hisses to Remus.
“He has a power,” Remus admits weakly, “which transcends understanding.”
“Do you want some tea?” James murmurs to you after a while. Sirius’ eyes have gotten stuck watching the movement of his forearms, and he snaps them reluctantly back up.
You hum, uncertain but definitely considering it. Behind you, Remus throws up his hands. James sees him and smiles, shoulders shaking with quiet laughter.
“I’m getting the sense this isn’t the first cup you’ve been offered,” he says, looking immensely entertained.
You sigh, but even that sounds pleasurable as his big thumbs drill diligently into your temples. “Yeah, but I just wanted to be left alone.”
Remus and Sirius exchange a look. You seem perfectly fine with company now.
“Don’t be silly,” James chides lightly, “a warm drink will make you feel better. Remus, love, would you be so kind as to make her a cup?”
“Sure.” His voice is gruff, but then you murmur a quiet thanks, Rem and Sirius actually sees the moment his heart turns to mush. “No problem,” he says, softer now.
“Attagirl.” James’ hand drops to give your shoulder a squeeze, his bicep flexing slightly with the movement. Christ, Sirius might have to fake a headache later, if this is the sort of treatment those receive. “Drink your tea and then we’ll get you to bed, yeah? You can sleep the rest of this off.”
“You know, I offered to carry her to bed earlier,” Sirius says, still slightly bitter, “and she told me very clearly to fuck off.”
You don’t sound so much exasperated now as exhausted. “Siri, when you carrying me doesn’t involve setting me down every five steps for a break, then we’ll talk.”
James’ laugh surprises both of you, and he apologizes hastily for jostling you, pressing a quick kiss to your forehead before resuming his ministrations. You don’t seem all that upset about it.
#poly!marauders#poly!marauders x reader#poly!marauders x fem!reader#poly!marauders x you#poly!marauders x y/n#poly!marauders x self insert#poly!marauders fanfiction#poly!marauders fanfic#poly!marauders fic#poly!marauders fluff#poly!marauders imagine#poly!marauders drabble#poly!marauders scenario#poly!marauders one shot#poly!marauders oneshot#james potter#sirius black#remus lupin#james potter x reader#sirius black x reader#remus lupin x reader#the marauders#marauders#marauders fanfiction#marauders fandom#hp marauders
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Many Kisses~ (PolyAU! Obey me!)
Note: I got no excuse for the last one, the demons just love their human too much <3 (And MC is just loving life)
#digital art#art#oc inserts#oc x canon#obey me#obey me shall we date#obey me mc#obey me imagines#obey me headcanons#Obey me Mackenzie#obey me mammon x mc#Obey me Mammon#obey me lucifer x mc#obey me lucifer#obey me leviathan#obey me levi x mc#obey me satan x mc#Obey me Satan#obey me asmodeus x mc#obey me asmodeus#obey me beel x mc#obey me beelzebub#obey me belphie x mc#obey me belphegor#kisses#obey me poly mc#poly!au#obey me shenanigans#Demons loving their Human too much
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I don’t know why I went full angst on this but maybe one of them totally blanks on your birthday plans so you’re just sitting at a fancy restaurant with the other one wondering where he is
I can see this where Max forgot and you and Charles finally decide to order food and when you get home he was steaming and didn’t realize what was going on
PART TWO.
You look to the front door just to see another random person walking in. Across the table, Charles tries to hold his anger inside, he tries very hard not to show how affected he also is.
“Maybe something came up.” Your boyfriend tries to smile and reassure you that everything is fine, that Max has a good excuse for not showing up.
He better have a god excuse or Charles is gonna make him sleep on the couch for the next month.
“Should we order? I’m pretty sure Max will want for us to celebrate. It’s your birthday, princess.”
You nod, not trusting your voice to speak.
It’s not the ideal celebration. Not when one of your boyfriends is not there with you and doesn’t pick up the phone. But Charles does a pretty good job of making you forget about it.
At least until dessert cames and they sing happy birthday to you.
*
“We have plenty of leftovers,” You go to the kitchen as Charles closes the front door. “You want a cup of tea, Char?”
“Don’t be a cunt! I was winning!”
You and Charles look at each other.
“Wha–”
But Charles is already sprinting up the stairs.
You follow him, heart rate through the roof, into Max’s streaming room.
And there he is. Max. Wearing sweatpants and streaming. You look at the screen that says how long he’s been there: four hours. Then, you see his phone on the floor, right next to a couple of Red Bulls.
“What the fuck, Max?!” Charles exclaims, making his boyfriend jump scared.
“Jesus Christ,” He touches his chest, just where his heart is. “Everyone’s laughing, by the way.” Max points to his headphones and then the screen where his friends, in fact, are laughing.
But you couldn’t care less about it.
“Max.” You say softly, grabbing Charles’ hand and caressing his wrist to try and calm him.
“What the actual fuck, mate.”
Charles never calls him mate.
“What?” He looks at Charles, then at you. “You look pretty good. Where did you go?” Max asks, already turning around to keep playing.
But Charles is having none of it. He walks to one side of the room, where everything is connected, and shuts everything off.
“Charles!”
Max is off his chair in a matter of seconds, looking absolutely pissed.
“Oh, you don’t get to be angry.” Charles takes two long strides, but you stand between them before he does something he will regret later. “We waited three hours! It was her birthday, you giant, fucking idiot.”
Charles throws his arms in the air before getting out of the room, leaving a speechless Max behind.
“What?”
You breathe deeply, avoiding eye contact. “You don’t even remember my birthday?”
“Of course I remember your birthday, Schatje.” He picks up his phone, seeing all the missed calls and texts. When he looks up, his eyes are filled with tears.
You can’t see properly anymore. “I think is better if you sleep in the guest room tonight, Max.”
You leave before he has time to say anything, running down the hallway and into your room. It’s only then that you let the tears flow freely down your face.
#꒰꒰ 📁 ─ verstappen cult files ꒱꒱#f1 x reader#charles leclerc x reader#max verstappen x reader#lestappen x reader#f1 imagine#charles leclerc fluff#max verstappen angst#charles leclerc angst#f1 fanfic#max verstappen imagine#charles leclerc imagine#poly!f1#lestappen x you
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Can We Get One
The youngest Leclerc loves baby Leo. So why the fuck won't her boyfriends let her get a puppy?
Norstappen x leclerc!reader
Okay I found out one of 'my' dogs died while writing this
"Hi Baby Leo," she gushed as she scooped her little puppy into her arms. He was like a little shark with the way he went to bite at her sleeve.
But she didn't much mind, gushing over the dog that she had dubbed her nephew (well, if Arthur and Lorenzo weren't going to make her an aunt, Leo it would have to be).
"I'm gonna kidnap you," she said in that baby voice as she stroked under his chin. "Gonna steal you away from your daddy so you can come live with me and Lando and Max."
She was in her own little world as she played with Leo, her brother, her boyfriends, lost to her. Max tried to call her name, but she waved him off to press kisses to Leo's head.
Lando and Max couldn't deny how goddamn cute she looked, holding Leo close to her chest. She scooted around on her ass to face them. "Boys, I'm in love," she said and pouted at them as Leo went to bite her chin.
"Baby," Lando began as he joined her on the floor. "We're not getting a dog."
"Assholes."
She turned her attention away from Lando and looked towards her brother. "Charlie, do you need a baby sitter?" She asked as she placed Leo in her lap. He happily sat there and chewed on her skirt.
"No way," Charles said. "You're not babysitting my dog."
A huff left her lips and she muttered something to Leo, something like 'you'd never be this mean to me, would you angel?' "If I move in with you, cook, clean, pay rent, can I get a puppy?" She asked as she looked at him.
Max couldn't stop the laugh that left his lips. "Um, excuse me," he called and tapped her on the shoulder. She ignored him. "Angel, just because we're not letting you get a puppy..."
"That's not it, Maxie," she muttered and scratched at Leo's belly. "Leo just wants me close, that's all."
The Leclercs had always had dogs growing up. It was one of the reasons Charles had gotten Leo. So, seeing his sister so in love with his little puppy, he knew he had to do something.
Charles picked Leo up and pulled his sister up from the floor. She put Leo in his harness, attached his lead and put him on the floor. "Why don't you take him for a walk?" He said and pointed her towards the door.
But she didn't leave. "Cha," she whispered, looking back at her boyfriend. "What're you doing?"
He whispered something in her ear, something that Max and Lando couldn't hear. Something along the lines of 'I'm gonna try and convince these guys to get you a dog'.
She couldn't help but smile as she walked out, Leo at her heels.
Charles began talking to Max and Lando. But what he was suggesting was unrealistic. How could they have a dog when they already have cats? It wouldn't have been fair to Jimmy and Sassy.
But Charles wouldn't drop it, wouldn't drop how happy she looked when she was with Leo. Wouldn't drop how happy she would be if they got her a puppy.
By the time she came back with Leo, they still weren't convinced. But Max couldn't get it out of his head. They were his cats at the end of the day.
It didn't take long for him to work out that he'd do anything to make her happy, including get a puppy.
Charles took her away for a week. He was in on it, happy to help however he could.
And, while they were away, Max and Lando brought home Baguette. The name was Lando's idea, a 'French Poodle for a French girl'. Which pissed her off because she was not in fact French.
It was Max's job to introduce Baguette to the cats. It wasn't smooth sailing, but the boys knew it wasn't going to be. And, by the time Charles brought her home, Baguette and the cats were coming fast friends.
The memory of the first time she met Baguette would always be ingrained into Max and Lando's memory.
She threw her arms around Lando's neck the moment she walked into the apartment, unaware. But then she heard the barking.
"Is Leo here?" She asked, clearly confused as she looked around for the puppy.
But Max didn't emerge with a puppy. Well, not that puppy anyway. The French Poodle puppy was a stranger to her. "We got you something," Lando said as he watched her expression.
"No." It was almost a whisper as Max approached, Baguette in his arms.
"Baguette, say hello to your mommy," Max said as he passed her the dog.
Her mouth fell open as she took Baguette from Max. "This... this is a joke, right?" She couldn't stop herself from asking as Max wrapped his arm around Lando's waist. "You guys got me a dog?"
"We sure did, baby," Lando said as he stepped out from Max's embraced. He stroked Baguettes head, touched his soft, curly ears. "Baby, meet Baguette."
(Baguette below)
#lando norris#lando norris imagine#lando norris x reader#lando norris fluff#lando norris x you#max verstappen#max verstappen imagine#max verstappen x reader#max verstappen fluff#max verstappen x you#norstappen#norstappen imagine#norstappen x reader#norstappen fluff#norstappen x you#f1#formula one#f1 imagine#formula 1#f1 x reader#formula one imagine#formula one x reader#formula 1 x reader#formula 1 imagine#poly!f1
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SOMETHING VICTORIOUS !!! CS55 + CL16 + LN4 X FEM!READER (18+)
summary: the podium finishers weren’t the only thing that finished that night.
content warning: smut under the cut (minors dni!), explicit language, gangbang???, mmmf smut content, dubcon, pwp, double penetration + oral sex (m receiving), mentions of sexism/misogyny (NOT APPLIED TO DRIVERS), consensual degradation, squirting, praise kink, i did not proofread this (the race just finished two hours ago duh)
note: i have returned with a short blurb eheh enjoy xx
a - n masterlist // o - z masterlist
if you’d like to get on one of my taglists, check this post out
there was something vile about the way celebrations occurred for the ferrari drivers.
ferrari 1-2’s are rare, sure, so this called for celebration— a massive one even.
so if anyone ever saw how carlos and charles celebrated with their sweet girl, anyone would consider this… morbid.
for some, it was filthy. sinful, even.
but having walked into carlos sainz’s hotel room after the two scarlet drivers called it an ‘early night’, lando’s eyes couldn’t find themselves to look away when he found the woman sandwiched between the two.
both carlos and charles were spearing through her holes and carrying her like she weighed nothing, both foreheads were sweaty after fucking her the moment they’ve stepped inside the suite.
she couldn’t even find herself to talk, her body too busy being manipulated and moved around while both her holes were stuffed with their cocks.
any man could call her a whore for having not only one, but two men fuck her at once. any man could degrade her for allowing men to do this to her body while she writhed and whined about how good she felt when they stuffed her.
so, it was too bad that lando wasn’t just any man. he couldn’t even stop himself from watching unless someone killed him themselves.
the british man’s mouth was practically salivating when carlos lifted her up and sunk her down their cocks, watching her cunt produce liquids that indicated her pleasure.
lando was so busy gawking at the way her cunt throbbed around charles’ cock that he couldn’t feel anything but his own cock painfully throbbing under his trousers.
he was too busy watching that he didn’t notice the way charles and carlos glanced at him with amused smirks.
it was only when charles spoke up did he snap out of his thoughts.
“which one?” charles asked with a teasing smirk at the british man, making lando shake his thoughts away.
when he saw how lando got confused, charles repeated, “she expressed her interest in inviting you before but not once did we see how… interested you were.”
“now you’re here,” carlos laid her down on the king sized bed gently. “so which one?”
“i- uh- i-“ lando stammered, his buzzed self no longer there as every rational thoughts he had were long gone.
“hm,” charles hummed before looking at carlos who stood as well. “do you think she can handle another one?”
“yeah,” the three men looked at the woman on the bed, watching her hazy eyes glossing over the three as her mouth let out, “i want more cock in me…”
“atta girl,” lando’s eyes darkened when he saw how frail, sexy, hot and beautiful the naked woman was. he never truly saw her in a new light until lando saw how fucked out she looked.
so much for a podium celebration with the ferrari men.
anyone with two eyes could tell that this was a sight to behold: her cunt sinking down on carlos’ cock, her back hole preoccupied by charles, and her mouth full of lando.
it could be considered a renaissance painting, for she was a masterpiece waiting to be coated full of the three men who can paint her in any way they wanted her to be.
“oh fuck, baby,” lando groaned, growling as the tip of his cock reached the back of her throat. her muffled moans only added to his pleasure as her mouth vibrated around his length.
“mmf-“ she hummed around lando’s cock. her eyes glimmered. was it in joy or simply in overwhelming pleasure? both things correlate to one another.
charles thrusted inside her roughly, his hands digging to her hips. he growled lowly and nipped in her ear with a murmur of, “merde, your hole is too fucking snug, bebe. you’re so fucking good for me.”
“you like that, sì?” carlos reached up to pinch her nipples, eventually slapping her tits as she yelped around lando’s length. “hm? you like it when you have three cocks inside of you? you love being a good slut for us?”
when she was expected to give an answer, lando grabbed her hair and pulled her away from his cock. his other hand continued to stroke himself while he murmured, “c’mon baby, he wants an answer.”
she tried to utter a word, but it was only the light slap of lando’s palm that had her uttering, “yes- yes. i love your cocks so much.”
“good girl,” lando’s cock slapped against her cheek before he slid it back in her mouth, now fucking her face as the ferrari drivers behind and under her picked up their paces.
“fuck- fuck, good fucking girl,” lando praised her repeatedly, hearing her choke on him quietly as she tried to get a hold of herself.
she couldn’t. she was so… overwhelmed.
“i’m gonna fucking cum, merde,” charles hissed behind her, not even minding that his cock had gone deep inside her as he let out a groan.
“i can feel you— oh… fuck,” carlos groaned. “you are so fucking good and tight for me, bonita… you gonna cum, huh?”
she couldn’t respond, thus earning chuckles from the three men. regardless of whether or not she could, she was beginning to feel herself cum again. and again. and again.
never mind getting a podium or a race win, because the three men knew that she was the only one who deserved the victory and the celebration that occurred between the four of them.
it might be morbid for most, but god… no amount of champagne sprays can top the celebration she was having with the australian grand prix’s podium finishers.
♡ moony’s reminder 🅶 (general): @hiraethrhapsody @avaleineandafryingpan @enhacolor @roseandtulips @woweewoowa @magnummagnussen @happy-nico @architect-2015 @hiireadstuff @biancathecool @scorpiomindfuck @stinkyjax
♡ moony’s reminder 🅴 (explicit edition): @glitterf1 @savrose129 @maxillness @bigsimperika @xoscar03
#formula one imagine#f1 smut#♔ something sinful ⎯ f1 smut#f1 imagine#charles leclerc smut#carlos sainz jr smut#lando norris smut#cl16#cs55#ln4#lando norris#carlos sainz#charles leclerc#♛ something multiplied ⎯ poly!f1 smut
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Yandere Husband x Reader x Yandere Wife (Poly) pt 1.
Warnings: Death mentioned, implied drugging.
You've been working full time and studying as a full time student since you moved out of your parents home a few years back. It's been hard to keep the balance between the two with very little time for yourself. You don't want to burden your parents with the things you're going through, however these past few months have not been kind to you. More specifically to your wallet.
Tution to attend is not cheap so when your parents offered to house you again to make things easier for you, you jumped at the opportunity. Living back home wasn't exactly ideal since you've grown acustomed to your busy life. However, it was either that plus an extra 30 minute drive to school, or give up more than half your paycheck to rent a small room in a shitty shared apartment with 3 other people.
Yeah, you'd rather take the loss on gas than stay with your previous roommates who didn't care much for the apartments cleanliness. You swear you were the only one pulling your weight with the chores but you weren't going to dwell on it now.
You drive up to your childhood home with your car full of stuff and sigh in relief to see your mom and dad outside waiting. After exchanging hugs and happy greetings, you and your family crack down on moving your stuff inside.
As you finish up with the last few boxes, you overhear your mom chatting to one of the nearby neighbors. Turning your head you raise an eyebrow at the sight of an unfamiliar couple chatting up your mother.
Your mom quickly introduces you to the new neighbors that had moved in across the street. New to you , however, apparently they've moved in quite awhile ago while you were gone. How come you never noticed them before? You were positive at least your mom or dad would've told you about them in past conversations. Maybe it just slipped your mind?
Infront of you, you were introduced to Dante Rockefeller and his wife Kiara Rockefeller.
Dante was tall with broad shoulders, dark hair with a very professional but charming look to him. You'd say he looked quite pristine and well kept. He flashed you a smile as he took your hand to shake it. You shake his hand back but you feel him oddly linger for a moment before pulling away.
His wife Kiara was much shorter compared to her husband. More on the plump side with a more lighter color in her hair, she held a similar look to her husband. Well kept, pristine, with a softer smile plastered on her face as she excitedly hands you a few goodies she made earlier that day.
"Your parents have told us so much about you, we just wanted to properly introduce ourselves!"
Kiara explains with a gleeful look in her eyes. They looked almost like those picture perfect couples you see on TV. The type of couple that never fought and who were the ‘mom’ and ‘dad’ of the friend group.
"You just give us a call if you need any help with anything, afterall we're only a street away!"
The husband chimes in, giving you a friendly neighborly welcome back home.
You thanked them for the goodies, bidding them farewell as you and your mom head back inside the house. You could feel their gazes follow you along before shutting the door.
As time went on, you kept seeing the couple more often then not. At first, it was more of accidental run ins. Like when you were out shopping for a few grocery items, you always seemed to find yourself bumping into Kiara. Or almost every time you were about to head to work, you were stopped by Dante who was on his daily jog and decided to stop by for a quick chat.
The couple were always so sweet, stopping by the house to visit for dinners consistently since you've returned. You assume that your parents had grown a close friendship with them while you were away. You were glad that your folks had people to talk to, you knew at their age it's much harder to stay connected with others and are just happy for them.
Maybe that's why you didn't out right say anything about how touchy feely the two could get around you when they weren't around.
How Dante would stand too close to you on outing events, how Kiara linked arms with you as you guys shopped, how the two slowly started to show up in common places you frequented and would join you despite trying to politely turn them down.
You could've looked past this. Perhaps they were just were like this in nature? But it didn't explain the more... Awkward situations you'd find yourself in with the two. Kiara wearing subtle revealing clothing around you, Dante buying more expensive luxuries for you, the two inviting you over to stay the night as a friendly visit.
You've tried to decline their offers, gifts, and even ended up avoiding the places you frequented because of it. You weren't sure why but a gut instinct told you to keep them at arms length. You tried your best to keep your distance, find ways to slither out of situations, even go as far as avoiding them. You hate to treat them like this but you just couldn’t shake the feeling of uneasiness around them.
That was until the fire.
When returning back from a long day of classes and work, you returned to firefighters and police officers at your door as the blaze in your childhood home burned rapidly. Ambulances came to aid and your panic after seeing your mother and father being carried out in stretchers worsens.
It took a week of before your parents passed away in the hospital. A whole week of being terrified if your parents were going to be okay and now they’re just.. Gone.
Their deaths hit you hard and you could barely function as you mourn. It doesn’t help that you’re practically homeless, 90% percent of your stuff had been lost in the fire, and you still had to deal with figuring out funeral arrangements for your parents.
Broke, homeless and still grieving you feel your world start to crumble in on itself.
Just when you feel hopeless, to your surprise the Rockefellers reached their hand towards you and took you in.
You wanted to deny their help at first, this felt all too much for them to do for you but where exactly were you going to go? You had no other options. You couldn’t help but cry when Dante and Kiara asked if you’d like to stay with them, insisting that none of it was a burden on them if it meant putting a roof over your head in these trying times.
Dante handled cooking dinner that night as Kiara helped you get settled in the guest room. It was mostly a haze for you, just trying to keep it together.
“Dinner will be ready in a bit hun, I got you a few spare changes of clothes from our closet- I’m sorry we couldn’t get your size right sweetheart, so they might be a bit big on you. I’ll leave you alone to get yourself settled and cleaned up, but just holler out if you need either of us, okay?”
You thanked her profusely, apologizing for burdening them again with your troubles but she stops you mid sentence.
“Hun, you don’t need to thank us for a thing. Dante and I are more than happy to take you in for as long as you want, you’re important to us and we’ll be sure you’re well taken care of.”
She gently wipes away a tear going down your cheek with her thumb as you once again thank her and her husbands kindness.
After she leaves, you wash yourself up and clothe yourself. A soft knock is heard from your door, you open it to see Dante with his signature smile but you can tell it seems more genuine. The smell of dinner from downstairs wafts into the room, causing your stomach to grumble and growl. You blush in embarrassment but Dante just lets out a soft chuckle.
"Dinner is ready, I'm sure you're starving after today. Kiara is setting up the table, shall we join her?"
He holds up his hand for you. Hesitantly you take his hand in yours, as he leads you to the dining room with care.
The food looked delicious, it reminded you of home as you dug in. How long has it been since you actually sat down and had a proper meal? You weren't sure, but with a full belly and the warm atmosphere you felt.. Safe. Maybe you were wrong to avoid them for so long? To think they possibly had alterier motives to their kindness when they were just normal people?
You tried to offer help to clean up before you offly felt tired. Like a heavy blanket was eveloping you, your vision starts to get blurry as you look at the couple with hazy eyes. Before you know it, your body gives way and you feel yourself lose conciousness. The last thing you see is Dante and Kiara surrounding you before blacking out.
#yandere x reader#male yandere x reader#female yandere x reader#yandere imagines#yandere#yandere oc#yandere poly#gender neutral reader#original yandere
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James and Sirius and Remus and Lily and *takes a dramatic breath* you?
this one's for you @enamoredwithbella, thanks for sorting this idea out with me @unstablereader
poly!Marauders + Lily x shy!reader who is so smitten with them
CW: fem!reader, reader has hair long enough to be played with, reader is in Hufflepuff, swearing, consent because it's sexy AF
This was obviously a bad idea.
You’re not even sure how your friends managed to convince you to attend the Gryffindor party, but you swore to every deity it would never happen again.
There were too many people (most of whom you’d never spoken to before), it was too loud (songs you didn’t particularly care for), and the fifteenth time someone bumped into you nearly sent you over the edge.
“Whoa there, sweetheart.” A low voice commented as an arm quickly righted you from your nearly horizontal position. “Y’alright?”
You looked up to see the face of none other than Gryffindor quidditch captain James Potter beaming down at you.
You were ashamed of yourself for the way that smile made you feel.
“Erm, yup! Thanks.” You squeaked, quickly freeing yourself from James’ grasp so fast that you nearly knocked someone else over in your attempt at creating distance between you and the Headboy.
It wasn’t that you didn’t like James. On the contrary; you were rather smitten with him.
Him and his partners - which was nothing short of dense in simple terms.
But you couldn’t help the way you blushed when he held the doors open for you as you walked into classes, or the friendly smile and wave he’d shoot at you when he saw you on Prefect rounds.
You sort of wished he’d stop being so bloody nice to you; maybe then you’d be able to get over this crush that was never going to amount to anything.
But James was taken; three times over.
And what a sodding group they were.
Heart Throb of Hogwarts™ Sirius Black in his effortless style, his devil may care attitude, and his insatiable flirting. Being noticed by Sirius felt like your favourite rockstar singing a song written just for you.
And don’t even get you started on the enigma that is Remus Lupin; the Cassanova of Gryffindor tower. Everyone in your year (and likely the years below you) had at some point or another crushed hard on the quiet Marauder; but it really couldn’t be helped. He was tall, he was handsome, he was kind, and though he was far more quiet than his counterparts, the quips he shared with you never ceased to reduce you to a fit of laughter.
And gods, was Lily Evans ever beautiful. She was the total package; she was funny, outgoing, smart, and stunning. Looking at her even now with her long auburn hair as she threw her head back in laughter; so open and care free in her actions. You weren’t sure if you wanted to be her or being underneath-
No.
No. That was not a nice thing to think about someone who was in a committed relationship.
You let out a sigh as you zoned back into the fact that James still had one of his hands on your elbow and was smiling curiously at you.
“Thanks for the save! I really owe you one.” You chuckled awkwardly and nearly took out one of the Prewett twins in your haste to leave Potter’s vicinity.
Unfortunately, trouble seemed to be following you.
And by trouble, you meant Sirius Black.
“Damn, Hufflepuff!” He cheered as he moved a sultry gaze up and down your body appreciatively. “Give us a spin, dollface.”
You felt all the blood in your body migrate to your cheeks as you fought to keep your mouth from falling open.
Lily, the beautiful angel (or the evil temptress, depending on how you looked at it), swatted at Sirius from her perch on the arm of the chair her boyfriend was currently occupying.
“Down boy; you’re going to scare her away.” She teased with a smirk as she winked at you.
You felt momentarily grateful for her.
And then she spoke again.
“Then none of us will get to look at her.”
Fucking Helga, was it hot in here? They needed to open more windows; preferably one you could launch yourself out of right now, thank you very much.
“That’d be such a shame, really. Sorry doll, you don’t gotta spin - no one else here deserves to appreciate such a view.”
“Okay.” You squeaked and turned in search of your friends.
You know what? Fuck your friends; you were leaving with or without them.
They weren’t….flirting with you, were they?
Surely not.
Of course not.
What a ridiculous thing to think.
But…it certainly felt like they were flirting with you.
Maybe one more glance?
Just as you were about to approach the portrait hole, you turned for one more look at the objects of your affection and your current tormentors and - yup, sure enough - Sirius, Lily, and now James were all standing there smiling at you.
They were watching you leave?!
Okay time to go, that is enough nonsense for one day.
You spun and collided with something tall and solid which thankfully caught your arms as you all but ricocheted off of them.
“Hey there, dove. Where’re you headed in such a hurry?”
Please for the love of gods, don’t tell me…
But of course, you looked up to see the face of one Remus Fucking Lupin smirking down at you.
“You lot are everywhere.” You whispered in awe. The bastard only chuckled in response.
“Come on you guys! We’re going to start a game of truth or dare!” Lily called over to…you (?) and Remus.
“Well, we wouldn’t want to miss that, would we?” Remus murmured lowly into your ear as he steered you towards the growing circle congregating around the various chairs and sofas littering the common room.
And listen, you’re not particularly proud that you were so placid in Remus’ man handling you.
But in your defence…
In your defence, Remus was man handling you.
And to your absolute horror, he plopped you down beside Lily on a large chair that was not quite large enough for two people.
You tried to swallow your heart back down which was attempting to escape via your mouth as you became hyper focused on the fact that Lily sodding Evans was pushed up against you none too casually and- Merlin’s tits, was she playing with your hair!?
You pretended to pay attention as a few rounds passed by; your friend being dared to give you a lap dance being the most brazen thing to have taken place.
Until it got to the Marauders.
Marlene dared Sirius to strip down to his boxers for a whole round which he was all but too eager to do, apparently. Meaning he got to ask the next person.
“Moony!”
Remus smiled down at his lap before he looked over at one of his boyfriend’s mischievously.
“I dare you to kiss the prettiest girl here.”
You’re not necessarily proud of the way your heart plummeted at that; this is what you had been telling yourself all night. They were taken.
No matter if they complimented you.
No matter if they caught you as you fell.
No matter if they snuggled up to you on a chair designed for one.
No matter if one of them made you feel like you leaving the party early would have been truly devastating.
No matter.
“That’s impossible; there’s two of them.” Remus said quickly, causing your heart to ache for Lily.
Who even says that when their girlfriend is sitting right here!?
You kept your head down as the party all ooooh’ed and aawwwweee’d.
James let out a funny high pitched laugh as if he were an over excited kid on Christmas morning. “Guess you’ll have to kiss them both then.”
You really should have left when you had the chance; you weren’t sure you could watch.
It was their business if they wanted to include another, but that didn’t mean you had to like it.
“Or they can kiss each other; I think I’d enjoy that just as much.”
“Sounds good to me.” Lily said as she stood; the space she once inhabited felt cold and vacant without her.
“Well? Come on then?” She said as she grabbed your arm.
“What?”
“Come with me.” She said again, wiggling your arm within your grasp, and who were you to deny her, really?
Like a well trained dog you followed her obediently over to where Remus sat before she all but shoved you into his lap.
“You seem like the fidgety type; maybe Rem can help with that, hm?” She said as she shot a wink at Remus over your shoulder.
His arms wrapped possessively around your waist as he rested his chin on the junction between your neck and shoulder.
“Is it okay if she kisses you, pretty girl?”
You had no time to be absolutely horrified at the pathetic little keening sound that escaped your lips as you looked up at the red-head now towering over you.
“What do you say, gorgeous?” And though her emerald eyes did shine with some mischief, you could see she was earnest; this was your choice.
“Okay.” You whispered barely loud enough for you to hear yourself over the hammering of your heart.
“Yeah?” She whispered as she knelt in front of you.
“Yeah.” You agreed.
And you only got to see the soft, hopeful smile that adorned her lips for but a moment before her hands were on either side of your face and she was pressing her soft lips to yours.
It could have been hours or centuries but it was also all too soon before she was pulling away from you; a proud smile on her lips though her cheeks were a similar colour to her hair.
You became aware of the hooting and hollering going on around you as Remus’ chest began to vibrate in laughter.
“Beautiful.” He murmured - likely more to himself than to you, but you heard it all the same.
“Do I get a turn?!” James shouted before Sirius roughly grabbed him by the waist and planted him down on his lap.
“Not before me, Jamie.” He snickered as he shot you a wink.
The audacity of a man to still be so confident sitting in nothing but his boxers.
You tried to hide behind your hands though it was all for naught as Remus made a theatrical cooing sound and pulled you further into his lap until you were all but cradled in his arms.
“Maybe without an audience next time, hm?” He asked you as he brushed some hairs away from your forehead.
Not trusting yourself to speak (or to even make direct eye contact with the bloke currently cuddling you in your lap), you nodded with your face still hidden.
“Way to go babe.” James said as Lily went to join the two boys on their loveseat. “You were so good, we’ll even get a next time!”
read about their first date here!
#marauders era#marauders au#marauders fanfiction#reader insert#self insert#sirius black#remus lupin#james potter#lily evans#poly!marauders#poly!marauders + lily#poly!marauders fluff#poly!marauders imagine#poly!marauders x reader#poly!marauders x you#poly!marauders + lily x reader#poly!marauders + lily x you#sirius black x reader#sirius black x you#remus lupin x reader#remus lupin x you#james potter x reader#james potter x you#lily evans x you#lily evans x reader#lily evans x fem!reader#ellecdc fics
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Hii, I’m starting to plan my 15 day Halloween Challenge and I wanted to know if anyone wanted me to write poly imagines. (Like two or three).
I haven’t written of it yet, keep that in mind jsjs, but I’ve read a lot of imagines and such. So I’ll try my best. :)
#cyberpunksunwoo#sam’s rants 🦋#15 day Halloween Challenge#poll#kpop poll#poly imagines#kpop#poly kpop
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❝time will tell.❞
[credits to the original artist of the photo!! can't seem to find their @ anywhere. title is taken from jane austen's persuasion, as was the first part.]
summary. ❝you are loved. and harry thinks there is no better description that that.❞
pairing/s. poly!mauraders x reader. (james potter x reader, sirius black x reader, lily evans x reader, and remus lupin x reader.)
word count. 9.5k.
tags. reader is referred to mum, with she/her pronouns[!], canon-typical violence [!], canon-typical deaths mentioned[!], very brief marauders as soldiers of the order[!], creepy old men being creepy[!], child abuse[!], pureblood arranged marriages, a minor character expresses wanting to die[!], Depressed and Traumatized Slytherins, the capital is important[!], themes of misogyny [!], teen boys fuck around and find out there are consequences to their actions, THERE IS ACTUALLY A LOT OF FLUFF, I PROMISE YOU, angst, children lose their baby teeth up until the age of twelve!! google said so!! not proofread we die like dobby the free elf
note. damn, i cried, you cried, we all crode. tbh, the first part was only intended as a oneshot, sdfkhdf, but when i re-read it, i thought that i could have expanded on more details,, so now here we are!! i love it more than the first part ueueue. thank you all so so so much for the kind comments :((( please please enjoy the second part to this installment!! part one
HARRY JAMES POTTER was only a few months old when you died at the hands of Voldemort — or as strangers have told him every time they ravaged his personal space and ogled at his scar. They said it was a quick death, better than what had happened to Alice and Frank Longbottom. But that was all they’ve ever said about your death. Unfortunate; caught in the wrong place at the wrong time, entirely different from the pedestal James and Lily have been put on by the wizarding society.
At first, Harry had wondered if it was due to your blood relations, being the daughter of a renowned Death-Eater, heiress to the fortune of a pureblood House. Harry can’t even count the amount of conspiracy theories he’s read or heard to his face that it must have been you who betrayed James and Lily, and not Sirius Black.
Even Hermione’s shared to him a theory that your death was faked to surrender your loyalty completely to Voldemort — of course, Hermione was eleven at the time, head full of books and her favorite theories, and Harry’s already forgiven her. But there’s a part of him that despises the way he’s never known the full truth about his parents, just bits of information dangled in front of him like bait for people [read: the Dursleys] to get him to do what they want, to act like the way they want. Until Remus and Sirius, you were a stranger to him, really.
. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .
(1976; CURRENTLY, IN THE PAST.)
IT IS RATHER UNFORTUNATE that Madam Pince has already taken her position as the unbearable librarian at this point in time. The woman gives Harry and you a pointed look as you slam the large book onto one of the tables — to Harry’s surprise, you glare right back at her. You’re awfully flushed, however, blushing cheeks betraying the fire in your eyes; it must have been from when Remus escorted the two of you to the library; he had tried to brush your hand with his pinky, to which you had responded with a startled hiss — Remus only smiled and chuckled at you, and Harry swears he’d like to forget that entire interaction because he saw literal stars in Remus’s eyes.
Jumping back in time and potentially causing chaos? Fun.
Meeting your parents? Definitely fun, in the strangest of ways.
But watching them pine and fall for each other? Not so fun.
Nonetheless, he hesitantly takes the seat across yours and watches you flip through the pages until you land on a chapter with the large, bold letters: THE CURIOUS CASE OF ELOISE MINTUMBLE — Time-Travel and Its Many Dangers. He meets your gaze with a sheepish grin, mustering a look of innocence; except the puppy dog eyes only worked when he was nine — you are not amused.
You slide the book towards him, scarily resembling Molly Weasley when she’s miffed with the twins. “You are aware, right, that just by existing here you’ve changed the future? Your future? And, that’s not even the worst thing that could happen.”
Harry sulks. “Yes, mum.” He prefers not to think about it, actually, it makes his head hurt.
“Don’t call me that in public!” You whisper heatedly, looking over your shoulder to check if anyone had heard him — to your luck, the library was empty, save for a Hufflepuff that was passed out on top of his books. “The less people that know about this, the better. It’s bad enough we told Potter about you. Do you even know what you’re going to do?”
“Considering I was thrown here against my will, no.” Harry shrugs. “And to be honest, I was just going to obliviate the people who asked too many questions.”
You reach over to smack his head, scowling.
“Ow! That hurt!” Harry rubs the sore spot as he grumbles petulantly. “This is technically child abuse, did you know that?”
You roll your eyes. “Do you at least have a plan to get home?”
“Of course I do,” Harry retorts with a scoff, “Her name is Hermione Granger.”
“Hopeless.” You groan exasperatedly. “Absolutely hopeless.”
Harry only grins in response. For a brief moment, he forgets about the present — his reality where the skies are bleak and home is where he knows the feeling of loss more than the warmth of his own parents’ embrace. He lets himself forget, and pretends he isn’t the Boy Who Lived. Just some random boy who’s pestering his mother — even if she likes to deny the inevitability of being romanced by the Marauders, (except for Wormtail because Harry would eat troll slime before he ever lets that happen.)
“Right then,” You say after your tangent — which Harry tuned out when he hears the words, be responsible. “If I’m going to help you get back home—”
Harry’s heart drops to his stomach; as selfishly as it sounds, he didn’t want to go home just yet — not to where people just took and took from him. He’s exhausted. Still, he puts up a front of being excited to be returned to his timeline. It’s for the greater good, of course, because his existence — present or past — is always somehow a threat to the wizarding society.
“—you need to answer this one question for me.” Your voice drops lower as you stare at him intently, lips pressed firmly.
Harry nods slowly. “As long as it’s within reason, yeah.”
You inhale sharply. “Do I outlive Dolores Umbridge?”
The wince escapes Harry before he can even stop it.
That’s all the answer you need, apparently. Your mouth hangs open in disbelief, eyes nearly bulging out of your head as you slam your hands down onto the table surface, shrieking.
“That slimy bitch!”
Needless to say, the two of you are kicked out of the library.
. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .
(1970; ORIGINAL TIMELINE.)
YOU ARE ELEVEN when your father introduces you to Ferguson, commonly known as Fergus, Bulstrode. He smiles at you with a leer, eyes hungrily dipping to the neckline of your dress. You grit your teeth as you hold out your hand for him to take — you almost shudder at the feel of his lips on your cheek. You eagerly take a step back away from him, hoping your father won’t notice the way you shy from Ferguson’s touch. You’re not dull, you fully understand the implications of this introduction and the way Ferguson is complaining to you about his third wife’s passing — as if you were the solution to his loneliness. Bile rises to your throat, and you shove it down with a forced laugh at your father’s jokes about Mudbloods. From across the room, Allegra Greengrass stares at you in sympathy, and you send her a glare — you do not need anyone’s pity.
The corset your mother laced on too tight is suffocating you; this whole Yule extravaganza made for elitist purebloods is suffocating you; and yet, you smile and greet every red-lipped witch your mother introduces you to. For hours, you pretend, and you pretend. By the time the guests have left, you wonder if you have any more of yourself to give.
You manage to convince your mother to let you slip away for the night. Without missing a beat, you rush outside and into the garden labyrinth, lest old Ferguson snatches you up for a dance and let his gaze wander elsewhere. For the first time since the sun had set, your aching feet finally find some relief. You drop onto the edge of the stone fountain as you toss your heels to the side. You begin working your fingers through your hair, ripping the glittery ribbons from your head. It’s not until you’re unclasping your necklace that you realize you are crying. Tears fall from your eyes, and they sink deep into the fabric of your dress.
You barely hold back your sobs. Your chest heaves as you hiccup; your vision goes blurry as your fingers grow numb. There’s nothing you can do but cry.
You’ve used up all your smiles for tonight.
But then, the sadness turns into resentment and then turns into indignation. Harshly, you wipe the tears from your eyes as you rip a violent scream from your throat.
You sink to the ground, perfectly polished nails digging into the soil as you gather patches of grass and tear them from the roots. You throw a handful of mud at the marble statues. You grab another fistful of mud, scream, then bash your head against the garden floor. You let out another cry, whimpering as you curl into yourself; shivering as a gust of wind brushes against your skin. Surprisingly enough, this is the most human you’ve ever felt. This is the most you have ever felt — period.
When hiccups regress into soft sniffles, you lay on your back, watching the stars float above. As the last of your tears slide down your cheek, you lift a shaky hand to trace the constellation in the sky. It’s not a familiar one to you, but then—
“That’s Sirius.”
You sit upright in a snap, wiping away the wetness from your eyes as you muster a mean glare at the newcomer.
Sirius Black.
“Oh, none of that,” He tells you when you move to stand. There’s barely any emotion on his face and it irks you that you can’t figure out what he’s planning. What you don’t expect is for him to sit beside you, thereby ruining his expensively tailored suit.
“You’ll get creases,” You scold him instinctively, nose scrunched — but your voice is hoarse; too tired to put up any pretences. “Your mother will be cross with you.”
Sirius scoffs, laying his head on the dirt, making sure to smear his sleeves with grass stains. “Walburga can go fall in a ditch and die for all I care.”
You gasp. “That’s horrible!”
Sirius gives you a look. “You don’t believe that.”
You really don’t, but you don’t have the courage to admit it either.
After a few moments of silence, Sirius asks, raising a brow, “So who was that?”
“Who was who?” You stare at him with knitted brows, toying with your fingers. You still can’t wrap your head around how weird this is — sitting with Sirius Black in the middle of your mother’s hedge maze, your once bright blue dress now sullied at the ruffles, eyes bloodshot and your hair a frizzy mess. (Sirius thinks you look cute, though; especially with your missing front tooth that peeks out every time you talk to him.)
“Bald guy, older than Merlin himself.” Sirius makes a face. “Looks like a troll. Smells like one, too.”
A giggle flutters past your lips, and your hands fly to your mouth. You really shouldn’t be bad-mouthing your guests, but Sirius was right — Ferguson really did act like an ugly troll. You sigh, letting your arms fall to your side. “My betrothed.”
Sirius nods in understanding. “My mother tried to set me up with my own cousin once.”
You grimace. “Which cousin?”
He sits on his knees to face you, and with a very solemn face, he says, “Bellatrix.”
This time, you laugh freely, throwing your head back as Sirius pouts at your amusement. “O-Oh, that’s golden.”
“No, it’s not,” says Sirius, lips twitching as he watches you snort like a pig through your giggles. “It’s horrible. A literal nightmare. You should feel awful for me.” He pokes your stomach, and it just makes you laugh harder, eyes disappearing into your smile. “Oi. I said feel awful, not take the piss out of me.”
“S-Sorry.” You wheeze, batting away his hand pulling at your cheek. “I just can’t imagine Bellatrix in a white wedding dress and saying her vows to you.”
“That’s disgusting.” Sirius gags. “You’re horrible, I hope you know that.”
When you finally calm down and Sirius tickles your bare feet until you cry in surrender, the two of you lay on the grass as he points out each constellation to you. Later, he fishes a small box of sugar mice from his pocket and offers it to you, opening one for himself. “Here’s to shitty parents and the one day we get to decide our own future.”
You bump your squeaky candy mice against his. “Cheers, Black.”
“Will you go to Hogwarts next year?” He asks you once he’s bitten off the tail of his mice.
You nod.
Sirius shifts on his side, holding his pinky out to you. “We’ll be friends when school starts?”
Again, you nod, wrapping your pinky around his. “Friends.”
The next September comes, Sirius finds a compartment and one James Potter in it. You sit with Allegra Greengrass and Endora Lestrange on the way to Hogwarts. You are sorted into Slytherin, and Sirius finds freedom and a home in Gryffindor. You play the role created just for you; you lift your nose at those beneath you, adorn yourself in custom-made silk clothing, and carry yourself with the etiquette of a pure-blooded lady. Perfect grades, perfect hair, perfect clothes, always picture perfect.
You pretend that Allegra doesn’t throw up in the evenings from the fear of getting married to a man twice her age. You pretend that you don’t notice Endora sleep-walking and begging for her mother to save her from her father. You pretend that under your blankets, in the Slytherin dungeon, you are safe.
You pretend that it doesn’t hurt when Sirius looks at you in disappointment when you shove a Hufflepuff student to the ground for getting a higher score than you in Charms.
They call you an ice-princess behind your back, and you overhear some of the fifth-years calling you foul words as well, and no one steps in to stop them; there’s no defending a Slytherin, after all. But you are keeping your head above treacherous waters, and you suppose that is all that matters.)
. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .
(1976; CURRENTLY, IN THE PAST.)
“SO ACCORDING TO THIS, Eloise was stuck in 1402 for five days until she was retrieved to the present, which means we only have four days left to figure out a way for you to get back home.”
Harry sinks into his chair, arms crossed over his chest. The two of you had found an empty classroom to discuss your plans away from inquisitive ears. “What’s the rush?” It’s unfair, he’d only just met you, and now he’s losing time with you.
You sigh. “Harry, Eloise Mintumble spent five days in the past and when she came back, her body aged five centuries, and she died in St. Mungos. It’s not just about altering the whole timeline, you could actually die.”
When you are met only with silence, you close the book, frowning. “Harry? What’s wrong?”
Harry swallows the lump in his throat, looking out the window to avoid your gaze. “What do you know about the Mirror of Erised?”
Your head tilts in confusion. “That it shows our heart’s deepest desire.”
“Yeah,” says Harry, nodding. “I was eleven when I found it.”
“Oh, Harry. . .”
It’s almost pathetic how quickly his eyes water. “Did you know, before today, I hadn’t known at all what your voice sounded like?”
You stay quiet, and Harry sucks in a shaky breath.
“When I looked into the mirror, I saw my parents—all of you. There I was, in the middle. You were behind me—happy.” Harry swipes a tear from his eye. “I wanted to stay in that room, stare at that mirror forever.”
“It’s—”
“Dangerous, I know.” He laughs bitterly. “Just like finally being able to meet you all here.”
“Harry, you aren’t supposed to be here in the first place,” You say quietly, eyes drooping sadly.
“I know that!” He exclaims desperately. “But is it so selfish to just want some time? I don’t want an illusion, I want the real thing. A real family. Why can’t I have that? Bloody Malfoy gets everything he wants, and what do I have?”
“Your friends,” You tell him firmly. “Your friends who must be worried sick that you’re gone and must be going great lengths to bring you back.”
“I know.” Harry wilts. He’s got Remus at home, too, who probably needs him more than ever after Sirius’s death. “I know. But can’t I just have this one thing?”
You purse your lips for a moment, brows furrowed in thought. Then, you break the silence with: “Do you want to hear a story?”
“What?” Harry croaks, peering at you through wet lashes.
Shrugging, you say, “Stories to remember us by. I’ve got six years worth of stories and then some. I know it’s not much, and you’ve probably heard some of these already from the others in the future, but it’s better than nothing, right?” You lean against the back of your chair, glancing at the wall clock before grinning at Harry. “We’ve got time to spare, anyway.”
Harry manages a smile, setting down his glasses before rubbing his stinging eyes with the handkerchief you offer him. He figures this is what Remus means when you’re the gentlest creature he’s ever known — just not gentle in what the world expects you to be.
“What do you say, Harry? I give you tidbits of the past, and you tell me if you know anything about the next Triwizard champion, so I can place my bets in advance.”
Harry snickers. “Not a chance, mum.”
“Worth a try.” And the smile you give him is nearly blinding.
. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .
(1977; ORIGINAL TIMELINE.)
YOU DON’T UNDERSTAND what it is about Gryffindors and their hobby of invading others’ personal space.
A year into dating and James likes to shove his head under your shirt, claiming he loves the sound of your heartbeat — but you know really what he wants to nestle his head in between. The amount of cashmere blouses he’s ruined is absurd! Sirius has a hobby of tracing runes on the plane of your stomach. Lily prefers it when you sit in front of her, just within reach where she can wrap her arms around you and rest her head on your shoulder. Remus tends to lag behind the group when he notices you walking slower due to your leg flaring up. He kisses the side of your head and promises to chase the pain away — sappy poetic that he is. And in the moments where all five of you are together, tucked under a wide alcove, you can best believe there is no escaping what they like to call, a cuddle pile. Limbs are tangled, kisses are shared, and confessions of love are whispered.
Before them, you hadn’t really known the different ways to love and be loved.
Onto the pressing matters at hand, you discover that the brazen show of affection extends to their parents as well. Particularly, the Potters. After a year, you finally caved into James’s requests for you to spend the holidays at their manor, since the others have already made a space for themselves there, and James had said it would be an honor for you to feel at home with his parents, too. Honestly, you spoil them too much — one look into his bright, wide eyes and you gave in. James didn’t even care that you brought two luggages for clothes alone; he lifted each bag with delight and with ease.
(Remus had the audacity to laugh when he caught you and Sirius staring at James’s flexed muscles, mouth wide open.
“As I have said, Remus Lupin, I do not drool!”
“Sure, dove, whatever you say.”)
But now, you really aren’t so sure of your decision.
“Oh, she’s beautiful, Jamie!” Euphemia encases you in a bear hug the moment you step inside the manor. You’re engulfed in the scent of cinnamon and burnt sugar. You stiffen as she cradles your face in between her palms, smiling ever so fondly at you, cooing about how precious you look, much like a mother would — and how your mother never did. You wonder if this is what you’ve been missing all along — the thought stabs you right in the heart. “Please excuse the mess, dear, we haven’t had the chance to clean up yet, Monty and I are excited to try the recipe Lily owled to us the other day, you see.”
“I-It’s okay,” You rasp, struggling to hold back the tears.
“Oh, what a darling you are!” Euphemia smiles and ushers you further inside. “Come, come. The others are right upstairs. You must be tired from the train ride. It is so lovely to finally meet you. Make yourself at home, dear heart — James Fleamont Potter! Give your mama a kiss this instant! Don’t think introducing your girlfriend will distract me from the fact you didn’t owl me letters for two months straight!”
James whines as he hides behind you. “Mum, I’m seventeen, stop embarrassing me.”
Euphemia scoffs, hands snapping to her hips. “You’re going to be my baby boy forever, now come here.”
With a shy smile, you step away to surrender James to his mother — you don’t understand which part of this is embarrassing; you wish for a mum who’d welcome you home like that, with unconditional love and kind eyes. James squawks and calls you a traitor, just before his mum attacks him with loud, exaggerated kisses to his cheek, leaving lipstick stains all over his face. You hide a laugh behind your palm, ignoring the way your heart pangs at the sight of their unrestrained smiles. Euphemia lets her son go after a few more seconds, cackling at the masterpiece she’s created on a grumbling James, who’s rubbing his skin to erase his mother’s affections. She hugs you once more before setting you off, telling you to meet Fleamont after you’ve unpacked.
Just as you reach the foot of the stairs, you hear a girlish squeal, then the sound of rapid footfall against each wooden step. Lily greets the two of you by jumping off the last step and wrapping each arm around yours and James’s neck. “Welcome home, Jamie!” She captures his lips with her own before doing the same to you, cupping your cheek lovingly, “So happy you made it, princess! How was the ride here?”
You were never a fan of traveling by Floo; it made you nauseous after, and left you with a pounding headache for hours. Without hesitation, the others offered to accompany you on the train, but you insisted they Floo ahead to Godric’s Hollow — it took a lot of convincing, but they finally agreed, (they’re not the only ones spoiled; they couldn’t refuse you, too.) With the exception of James, who wanted to be there when you saw his home for the first time. You nearly cried when you saw how well-loved their manor was; rose shrubs dipped in snow, Sirius’s motorcycle parked outside, a mailbox with poorly painted shapes, the fences covered in Christmas lights, and the amount of shoes by the door. From outside, you could hear the laughter and warm conversations.
“It was fine,” You say in a daze.
Lily sees right through you — and frowns sadly. “You alright?”
Were you?
You catch sight of the moving photographs of James and you finally reach your breaking point. There’s a swell in your throat that you can’t seem to push down. There’s a photo of James, Lily, Remus and Sirius; James is in his Quidditch jersey, raising the Golden Snitch high up in the air, Remus is twirling Lily, his arms around her waist, and Sirius is holding up a charmed banner that says: Gryffindor Rules! Slytherin Sucks! Except For My Darling Angel Love Of My Life Most Beautiful And Gorgeous Perfect Brilliant Girlfriend!
There are hints of life all around the manor. Remus’s textbooks and scarf are laid by the coffee table. Lily’s O.W.L. marks are framed on the wall, along with Dumbledore’s letters to James and Lily awarding them the position of Head Girl and Head Boy, as well as McGonagall’s previous letter to Remus that came with his Prefect badge years ago. There’s a spot dedicated to Peter, filled with a photograph of him awkwardly holding his Herbology test, one that he scored a hundred and twelve percent on. It’s a wall dedicated to them, you realize.
Then, you find it.
Right there, up above James’s spot, and beside Sirius’s display of beyond perfect Transfiguration exam marks, and a picture of him and Remus kissing each side of your face.
It’s a space on that wall just for you.
James follows your gaze and rubs the back of his head, ears tinged with a shade of deep pink. “Mum left a space when I first told her about you. I-It’s yours, you can put anything you want there.”
“I can’t,” You whisper, lips quivering as your heart cracks into a million pieces. It’s too much.
James blinks. “Can’t? It’s yours, I promise. Mum won’t mind. You can even hang your dumb Montrose Magpies poster and I won’t tear it down — Marauders’ honor. I can help you if you want. I-I’m not good as decorating as Lily, but I paid attention to your boring explanation of color theory and I know that you hate this shade of—”
“James, I can’t do this.”
That’s all you say before you run out of the door.
(And you’re absolutely delusional if you think James won’t follow you out that door and into the brewing snowstorm.)
You hear James call out to you, but you opt to ignore him and clutch your winter coat tighter around your body, shivering in the blowing wind, trudging through the deep snow through your heeled boots — designer couldn’t help you now even if you tried. You sniff, the salty taste of your tears dripping to your lips, chest tightening with a foreign kind of pain, and the frost nipping at your fingers. You give up after a few minutes, falling to the ground with an anguished cry, hand clutching the front of your chest as you struggle to breathe.
James reaches you in a matter of minutes, draping his jacket over you, barely flinching as the cold welts his bare skin. Frantically, he wipes the tears from your eyes, a pained expression on his face as he sees you cry helplessly. “Come on, dove, it’s not safe out here. Let’s go back home, yeah? I’m sorry for upsetting you. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry — I’m so sorry, dove, please don’t cry, it’s killing me to s–see you like this.” Tears fall from his eyes, and he begins stuttering from the cold, but you can’t go back to the manor. “What did I do? Please tell me so I can fix it. I love you—I’m sorry.”
You bat his chest. “G–Go home, Jamie. I’ll just take the train back to the castle.”
“What?” He shakes his head, grabbing onto your hands. “Y–You can’t. Not in this weather. You’ll get sick if you try to walk back to the station.”
You withdraw from his hold as you back away from James, slipping into the ice-cold mask you know so well.
James rises in an instant, reaching for you. “No, no, no, no, no. You don’t get to do that. Not now. Not with me. Please, just come home and I-I’ll fix it.”
“Goodbye, James,” You tell him firmly, clenching your jaw as you look him straight in the eyes.
He grimaces. “That won’t work on me, princess, and you know it. Don’t push me away—please.”
“Go home, James!” You yell bitterly, pivoting on your heel as you march through the thick inches of snow, hearing Remus and Lily’s voice grow louder in the distance. “Just go!”
He grits his teeth, nails digging deep into the palms of his hand. “You’re a coward if you walk away from here—from us—right now!” James shouts through chattering teeth and stray tears. “And I hate cowards more than anything!”
You don’t look back.
(Later that night, James stares blankly at the fireplace, tossing twigs now and then. He’s all out of tears. Remus crosses his legs as he sits beside James and offers him a steaming mug of hot chocolate.
“Don’t want one,” He mutters, words coarse from earlier, head turning away from Remus’s gift. “Just want her.”
Remus sets the beverage on the ground before pulling James’s head down to his chest, gently wiping the tears from his eyes as he wraps the blanket around both of them. He presses a soft kiss to James’s hair.
“I said I hated her,” James says weakly. “I don’t—I never will. I just hate that she’s out there spending Christmas all alone. She could be here—with us. I hate not knowing that she’s safe, or that she thinks I don’t love her anymore—that’s a bloody lie, Moony. I adore her. If anything, I don’t deserve her.”
James finds out that he does have more tears left in him. “I miss her. Bring her back, Rem, please.”
“You’ll cry yourself sick, love.” Remus wipes each tear away. “Let’s go to bed, yeah? Mornings do have a way of bringing miracles to us.” Because after a night of excruciating pain under the moon’s command, he wakes up to sunlight, and there you all are — smiling down at him like he is deserving of love; and maybe Remus can’t fault you for running away.
You’d kiss him gently and tell him how proud you are of him for coming back to you.
Remus only hopes you come back to them, too.)
. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .
(1976; CURRENTLY, IN THE PAST.)
“AND THAT, dear Harry, is how I humiliated Lucius Malfoy in fifth-year.” Your eyes gleam wickedly as you rest your arms on the school desk. “If he ever bothers you in your time, just mention my name—oh, I wish I could see the look on his face when he realizes I’m haunting him from my grave. Tell him, okay?”
Harry nods excitedly. “Definitely.”
“Got anymore stories?” He asks.
You cackle menacingly. “Boy, do I ever. Let me tell you about the one time Beckett McLaggen took me out on a date to Madam Puddifoot’s!”
Harry grimaces. “Do I even want to hear about this?”
“Oh, pish-posh.” You dismiss him with a wave. “You do, this story is hilarious. Now that I look back on it, Sirius was quite cross with him for the rest of the day—how strange. I wonder why.”
Harry stares at you in disbelief. “You’re joking.”
“I most certainly am not, Harry Potter.”
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(1974; ORIGINAL TIMELINE.)
AN EAR-PIERCING scream wakes you up in the middle of the night. You snatch your wand from under your pillow, heart thudding against your chest in fear — last year, the Prewett twins decided it was funny to break into the girls’ quarters at midnight; you get a month worth of detention for hitting Gideon with the Expulso curse and suspension from class for two weeks, while the twins get away with a slap on the wrist and have the time of their lives spreading rumors of you being a Death-Eater.
Endora shoots up to her feet as well, staring at you in panic — then the girl screams again, and you realize it’s Allegra.
You sigh in relief, lowering your wand before saying to Endora, “I-It’s alright. I’ll handle it.”
“Are you sure?” Endora asks timidly, gnawing at her lip and wincing when Allegra wails once more.
“Certain,” You respond, yawning.
As Endora climbs back into her bed, you slip into Allegra’s side, holding her head to your chest, brushing your fingers through her hair and untangling the knots. Like most of the Greengrass women, she was of ethereal beauty — silky blonde hair, smooth and fair skin, deep blue eyes that enchant wizards and witches alike. But her cheeks have gone sallow from exhaustion, eyes devoid of any emotion, and her skin now sunken into her bones.
“I don’t want to marry him—I can’t! He’s old enough to be my father!” Allegra sobs violently, desperate for anyone to hear her, but no one really ever hears their cries from the dungeon. “They said they’d wait until I graduated—they promised! I’m supposed to marry him this summer!”
Your heart breaks for your friend — there’s nothing you can do but hold her until she’s cried every bit of her soul out.
“I hate them,” Allegra whispers to you; she had been shedding tears for hours, trembling in your arms until morning finally came.
“I know,” You say defeatedly.
“I wish I was dead,” She replies lifelessly. “He can’t marry a dead bride.”
“Don’t say that,” You beg as you hug her tight; afraid to lose her to the world that has worn her down. “Please.”
Allegra sinks into her pillows, and you follow in suit, hesitantly laying your head beside hers. She stares at the ceiling dully. “The world is so, so cruel to us daughters sometimes. And it’ll be cruel to our daughters, and their daughters. When will it end?”
“I don’t know,” You say honestly.
Allegra hums, neither disappointed nor surprised, and turns away to lay on her side. “Pansy,” She mumbles.
“What?”
“If we lived in a better world and I married for love, I’d want to name my daughter Pansy — like the flower.”
(Later that day, you are given detention for beating Evan Rosier to a pulp. He makes a joke about dirty blood, and you snap — you are tired of laughing and pandering to the arrogant men in your life. This is the first time you publicly defy your parents, and it felt good — more than good, it was liberating. It’s like breathing fresh air for the first time. Then, you earn a second detention for storming up to the Gryffindor common room and punching Fabian Prewett in the face — because fourth-year boys had no business sneaking into the girls’ dorm in the middle of the night for some stupid prank — and you threaten him by pointing the tip of your wand deep into his neck, demanding they apologize to you, Allegra, and Endora.
You get what you want, naturally — as princesses do. You decide then that you’re going to create a world where girls like Allegra don’t cry anymore.)
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(1976; CURRENTLY, IN THE PAST.)
HARRY TWINGES WHEN he hears the end of your fourth or fifth story of the afternoon — no wonder you had been so angered by his being in your room. “I-I’m sorry—”
“Yesterday was hardly your fault,” You interrupt him. “There’s no controlling where magic brings you, not in your case. You didn’t know, but now you know. I don’t hold it against them — anymore. Fifteen-year-old boys can be stupid, and at least they’ve learned from their mistakes. You should have seen your mother — erm, Lily — she looked like she was ready to kill them after finding out what they had done. Even Molly was cross with the twins, and you know how loyal Molly is to her family.”
Oh, Harry knows.
And Hermione knows it all too well.
“Others call us evil, conniving and cruel, Harry,” You tell him grimly, “But I will protect my own, no matter what I have to do.”
At that moment, Harry thinks he understands why some people come to fear Slytherin.
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(1978; ORIGINAL TIMELINE.)
“LOOK, LILY-PAD, the princess is drooling again.”
You open your eyes to glare at Sirius. “I don’t drool, idiot.”
Lily chortles as she presses a kiss to your shoulder. “Of course you don’t, princess.”
Currently, you’re lying on a shabby loveseat that is too small to hold the three of you; it’s the only furniture in the new cottage you call home, where Potter Manor was right across the street. (Euphemia was ecstatic to have you all nearby — the lovely woman was sprite for her age, but you notice the way she stops to sit and catch her breath, Sirius and James hovering over her attentively; you’re good at pretending, so you pretend that the Potters will be around forever.) Some rooms are dusty with cobwebs, walls unfinished, with the floors creak under your feet, and there’s no other place you’d rather call home.
You’re in between Sirius and Lily; your lips swollen from their kisses, cheeks flushed and the column of your throat graced with love marks. It’s the most beautiful set of jewelry you’ve ever worn, not even burmese rubies could compare. Lily’s hand rests under your jumper, Sirius’s thigh wedged between your own. While peace blankets the three of you, James and Remus have yet to come home from their task given by the Order.
“You need a haircut, my love,” You mumble drowsily, pulling at one of the dark ringlets — it’s gone past his shoulders now. He captures your hand and leaves a delicate kiss on your fingertips.
Lily buries her nose in your hair. “She’s right, Siri.”
“I’m always right.” You pout.
Sirius, love-sick fool that he is, smiles as he tilts your chin with his finger and ensnares you in a kiss that leaves you breathless. “Course you are — our girl’s bloody brilliant, isn’t she, Lily-pad?”
“Without a doubt.”
You roll your eyes at their antics, rolling around so that your back is pressed to Sirius’s chest — they’re not fooled, however; Lily sees the way your eyes flicker in amusement and the way your lips threaten to curve up into a smile. She traces the swell of your lips with her thumb, to the dip of your nose, and to the apples of your cheek. Sea-green eyes beam at you.
“I love you,” says Lily, committing every inch of you to her memory as she wears a melancholic smile. “I don’t know who told you that you don’t deserve to be loved, but they were wrong. You are so precious to us, dove, you don’t even know how much. This right here is real — and nothing could ever change that.”
As it turns out, you did have more smiles to give — only the happy ones; not the fake, courteous smiles that you had given to your mother’s friends in the past. You come to intertwine your hand with Lily’s, the one that had been resting on your cheek, tenderly wiping the tears that pooled within your eyes. Your heart could burst from your chest. They had a habit of wringing every emotion out of you; of making love feel real, not just a myth from a Muggle storybook. And you find, that you didn’t mind this particular habit of theirs. In the comforts of the place you call home, where you irrefutably belong, you are free to seek their arms and fall into their love, and the best part is where you get to love them right back.
How lucky you are.
“Let’s get married,” You blurt out, holding your breath, feeling Sirius’s hand on your waist stiffen.
“What?” Lily gasps breathlessly.
You smile up at Lily. “Let’s get married. All of us. I don’t care where, o–or about the rings, let’s just get married. With the war going on, we deserve s–something good.”
Lily sobs as she nods excitedly. “Yes. Oh my Gods—we’re getting married!”
Sirius stares at you in wonder. “Bloody hell, dove, give a guy some warning, would you?”
You grin. “Is that a yes?”
“It’s a yes — forever.” Sirius dives in to kiss you senseless. “Couldn’t get rid of us now even if you tried.”
“I don’t think I’d want to, anyway.”
Right then, the rickety door slams open, and you hear the loves of your life calling out for the three of you. Followed by the heavy thud of Dragonhide boots plunking down onto the floor
“We’re home!” James announces in the entryway.
Lily wastes no time in shooting up from the sofa and welcoming them home with quite a unique greeting:
“We’re all getting married!”
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(1976; CURRENTLY, IN THE PAST.)
“That ring is an heirloom passed down to the children in our family,” You tell Harry, pointing to the band around his finger. “It’s meant to symbolize our loyalty and duty to our House. My mother said I would have earned it only when I became a wife to Ferguson Bulstrode.” You chuckle at Harry’s perturbed grimace. “No, I didn’t marry him — thankfully. After Allegra. . . I—I. . . I couldn’t bear it. If I was going to marry, it would be on my own terms, and it would be for love, nothing less. Then, if my child wanted it, I’d give them this ring. I want to leave behind a legacy that I created. When I was younger, I’d resigned to a fate that was forcefully carved by someone else’s hand.”
You shake your head. “I want to die being remembered by those who loved me. Otherwise, I was never truly alive.”
Harry won’t let that happen, he won’t ever let your name be forgotten. He’ll share of your kindness to his friends, of your bravery and loyalty. Hermione will love your fondness of Muggle musicals and how you stood up to Lily’s defense in a world that ostracized her for being different. He’ll remind Remus of your love for him, that he had brought you hope in times of despair. Harry is going to make sure the world knows you had been so full of life with endless love to give. You are going to be remembered in the way Voldemort never will.
“What do the words mean?” He stares at the writing: Tempus Edax Rerum.
You smile. “Time, devourer of all things.”
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(1978; ORIGINAL TIMELINE.)
“REMUS—THE MUGGLES ARE stuck in the telly again!”
Remus snickers as he takes the vacant space beside you on the loveseat, now sewn up with care and spattered with knitted quilts and throw pillows — still too small to carry three people but hasn’t given out yet, anyway. He takes Lily’s legs over his lap, swiftly stealing a kiss from your lips. “It’s a film, dove, they’re acting.”
You purse your lips. “They’re trapped inside, then?”
Lily snorts into her tub of chocolate fudge ice cream. “Not quite, princess, it’s recorded. Movies are like moving photographs — but they’re an hour long with sounds.”
“Oh.” You turn your attention back to the screen, back to the film Lily had been watching. You had to admit — the story of Sandy and Danny was an interesting one. “Lily-pad, she’s singing — again.”
Sirius hushes you from where he was cuddling James on the other couch. “She’s supposed to sing, dove, it’s a musical.”
“Well, yes,” You begin, and James groans into Sirius’s chest, “But they should just talk instead of singing all the time — Sandy’s got a lovely voice, though. I just don’t understand why Danny’s treating her like that! Truthfully, I don’t like any of Sandy’s new friends, other than Frenchy — she’s harmless. If I was Sandy I’d move on from Danny — but then again, that hair and those muscles, and his leather jacket! I can’t blame her.”
Sirius glowers at you. “You like his leather jacket?”
“His hair?” James exclaims in horror.
Remus chuckles as he tucks you in his side, kissing your temple. “If I were you, dove, I’d be quiet and just watch the film.”
“Oh, no, no.” Sirius barely glances at the television as he pauses the film and stands up to point an accusatory finger at you. “Since when were you into leather jackets? Do you think those are cool? Since when? Jamie, should I get one? Let’s unpack this, right now. And his muscles, really?”
Your eyes roll to the back of your head. “Play the film, Black, I want to see the end of their love story.”
“I’m telling Euphemia on you!”
. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .
(1976; CURRENTLY, IN THE PAST.)
“—and then we realized that we accidentally locked Hermione in with the troll.” Harry’s arms flail about as he shares some of his adventures with you — it had only been fair. He felt like a young boy again, entering Hogwarts for the first time as he watched you listen to him intently, gasping at tale of the vanishing glass and scolding him when he says he and Ron had decided to go searching for Hermione, and by extension, the troll.
Your eyes grow wide. “A troll? In Hogwarts? They can’t have, not unless—”
“Someone let it in—I know!” Harry grins. “You’re not going to believe who let the troll in the castle.”
You snap your fingers, “Malfoy, the older one. I know that lump’s got something to do with this. Can’t have been Snape or Quirrell.”
“Just you wait.” Harry’s eyes twinkle with mischief. “—and so, Professor McGonagall finds us, and can you believe it? She awards us for dumb luck! Then. . .”
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(1979; ORIGINAL TIMELINE.)
IT HAD COME AS A surprise when you volunteered to join the Order of the Phoenix. You wanted to scoff at their shocked faces — was it so surprising that you wanted to protect your family? They let Severus Snape join their ranks, and you’re fairly certain that you’re a better fighter and survivalist than him — not the better liar, however, he can have that one. The week before, you and the others had an argument that lasted for the whole day. They did not want you in harm’s way, and you would rather die than stay at home, waiting idly for them to return, when you could be out there alongside them.
(“It’s not some game out there!” Remus runs through his hair in frustration — he had always been so careful to never raise his voice at you, but this one time, he needed you to back down. “Every time you step into a raid, there’s a possibility of you dying, don’t you understand that? And even if you survive — you’ll have blood on your hands, and it does not wash away no matter how many times you try, trust me, we know.”
“So what?” You throw your hands up in the air, equally aggravated. “I just stay here like some. . . some pet waiting for their owners to come home?”
“Yes!” Lily angrily replies. “That is the whole point of us joining the Order — so you get to live another day. So we all have a chance at this new world without a war. Let us protect you!”
You grind down on your jaw. “You have got another thing coming, if you think I’m not going to fight tooth and nail for my future.”
James slams a fist onto the kitchen counter. “There are horrors out there you can’t even imagine. I-It’s worse than we thought. It’s our every nightmare come to life.”
You raise your chin defiantly. “Then we face it together.”)
Each day, you survive, and each day the five of you return home — scarred and bruised, but safe within the arms of one another. When you collapse and crumble, it is only for the walls of your home to witness.
Now a month into autumn, you are on your first task without Sirius, James, Lily or even Remus. Instead, you are assigned by Dumbledore to Knockturn Alley along with Peter Pettigrew and Gideon Prewett. How strange time was, years ago you’d never associate with the proud Gryffindors, and now you had to trust them to guard your back. Everyone had to grow up quickly during war, even pranksters.
The alley was quiet — too quiet for your liking. You had been on alert since the moment you apparated into the area, wand at your ready. The back of your neck prickled with goosebumps as you kept an ear out for any sign of movement.
Peter shivers and you glance at him — he’s become far too skinny, constantly shrinking into himself out of fear. And while you want to comfort him, you keep your eyes up ahead. Still, there's a nagging feeling that you can’t quite make out. It’s different from all the other times you’ve been asked to search and rescue.
“Don’t you feel like there’s something wrong?” You ask Gideon, eyes snapping to the flock of crows flying overhead.
“Dunno, kid,” Gideon says, nudging your shoulder with pressed lips. “Everything about this is freaking me out. The place is too empty.”
“I get what you mean,” You reply, swallowing your own nervousness. Without waiting for the rest, you speed up your pace. “I’ll scout ahead, who knows what’s been here before us. I don’t want to risk any of our lives, so let’s be careful. Gideon, ward the area while I check for any cursed objects, last time you almost got your arm cut off by a newspaper of all things. And Peter, could you. . . Peter?”
When you turn to check behind you, it all happens so fast.
“Avada Kedavra!”
You scream as Gideon’s deathly pale body falls to the floor.
“No!”
You aren’t given a moment to rush to his side — someone digs their wand in the side of your neck, and you stiffen in their hold. It’s not until they hiss in your ear that you recognize the voice.
“Rosier.” You spit, biting down on your lip when he presses the tip of his wand further into your flesh.
“Stupid witch,” He taunts, eyes dilating with vengeance. “Where are your lovers now?”
“Jealous?” You claw at his arms, chest heaving up and down. “We don’t have room for one more, sorry.”
“Shut up!” He pushes you to the ground in blind rage, and that’s all the opening you need.
“Expulso!”
Each curse you send his way lands on his cloaked body, sending him staggering backwards. With ease, you deflect each spell he counters with. You’re winning, he is growing tired, and perhaps that is why you let your guard down.
“Accio wand!”
The magic fizzles out, and the spell dies on your lips. As you swivel your head to find out who’s stolen your wand, you expect to find another Death Eater — except it’s Peter. Just Peter Pettigrew, quivering in his boots with tears and snot dripping down his face, your wand in his free hand. You furrow your brows — it doesn’t make sense.
“Peter?” You call out.
“Crucio!”
The curse finds its home in your body — and it sinks deep into your flesh, grinding your bones until you slump to the ground, wriggling as you draw blood from your lips, refusing to let them hear an ounce of your pain. Blood trickles down your nose as you hear Evan Rosier dancing around you in glee. You know this curse well; the sound of your father condemning you gleefully echo in your head. You crawl over to Gideon — hand desperately reaching for his shirt.
“Crucio!” Rosier grabs you by the hair and howls with laughter. “Scream for me again—Crucio!”
It’s as though someone had begun to rip you in half. Your bones shift and crack with every uttered curse. The veins in your eyes have popped and through bloody vision, you see Peter cowering away from you.
“You—fucking—traitor,” You gurgle, throat welling up with blood that’s risen from your stomach. “They’ll—never—forgive you—never.”
“Crucio! Crucio! Crucio! Come on, witch — SCREAM! Look at her go, Pettigrew, crawling like some pathetic worm.”
You lay in your owl pool of blood, wearing a body that is marred and lacerated. But you see something in Gideon’s hand. I’m sorry, you want to tell him. I’ll get you home to Molly, you promise, please lend me your magic this once. With every last bit of your strength, just as Rosier directs another curse at you — one you know you won’t survive — you snatch the wand from Gideon’s hand and tear the last of your magic from your throat.
“Defodio!”
You wait with a bated breath as silence fills the alley; lucky to have remembered Professor Flitwick’s quick remark as to how the slight difference in pronouncing a charm could alter its effect. Rosier stands on shaky legs, a stream of blood leaking from the corner of his mouth. You watch as he looks down to his chest, where a gaping hole now lies instead of where his ribcage and heart should be. As Gideon had done before him, Evan Rosier crashes to the ground.
That just leaves one more problem.
Peter scurries to your side the moment Rosier can hurt him no longer. “I-I’m sorry—I’m sorry. I had to. . . T–They killed my mum, they killed M–Mary, and t–they said I would die too if I d–didn’t do this. I’m sorry. Y–Your father was there, too. He said he would take you in, let you l–live if you joined us. W–We can live, t–there’s still a chance for us to survive.”
Your fingers are bent at unsightly angles, the remnants of the Torture Curse still flowing through your veins, but your face contorts in anger as you let your hand curl around his neck. He sobs louder, and though your grip is weakening — you make sure he looks into your eyes, that he feels your touch.
“I’d rather—die.” You say through gritted teeth, nails drawing blood from his grimy skin. “You’ll die too—you’ll feel my blood on your skin—everywhere you go, Peter.”
Peter shakes his head, now clumsily pushing his wand down to the center of your chest. “Y–You were the only o–one who d–didn’t laugh at me. N–Not like the others.”
“When they find out—you’re dead, Pettigrew.” You laugh darkly as more blood exits your body through your lips. “There’s nowhere you can hide—you’re a dead man.”
“P-Please die,” Peter cries out, each killing spell coming out as a garbled whisper. “Please die, s–so I can live. I c–can’t fight anymore, I’m tired.”
Your vision goes a hazy shade of white, Peter’s silhouette fading away to the familiar scenery of your cottage in Godric’s Hollow.
Oh.
Dying is less painful than you had expected it to be. It’s like coming home after a day’s work.
You just wanted to rest now.
The world caves in on you, and you barely hear Peter’s next words.
“Avada Kedavra.”
(It’s past midnight when Peter Pettigrew arrives at Grimmauld Place, where it’s been altered to host the members of the Order, Lily sobs in relief and gathers him in her arms.
You’ll feel my blood on your skin.
You’re a dead man.
Dead, dead, dead, dead, dead, dead.
“Oh, I’m so glad you’re home safe — welcome home — thank the Gods you’re alive,” Lily blabbers through her tears, checking his face for any major injuries. “Merlin, what happened? There’s too much blood on you. It’s on your shirt and your face.”
“It’s not mine,” says Peter hoarsely.
Sirius’s gaze darkens, arms crossed over his jacket as he leaned against the wall. “Where is she?”
Lily nods, standing on her tiptoes to search for any sign of you. “Peter? I–Is she alright? Has something happened to her?”
Peter stays silent for a moment too long, and he finds himself slammed against the wall behind him, Sirius snarling in his face as he seizes the front of Peter’s soiled shirt. “Where the fuck is she, Pettigrew?”
Peter begins to weep. “I–It was an ambush. None of us saw it coming. Gideon r–ran. She was taking on two Death-Eaters at once and I–I was too far away.”
Lily collapses to the ground with a heart-wrenching scream.
Sirius growls as he drives his fist to the wall, inches away from Peter’s face. “Where is her body?”
“It was a disintegration spell.” With Severus Snape — brought to the Malfoy Manor to be made as an example of what happens to blood-traitors.
James pushes Sirius out of the way and grabs a hold of Peter, knocking his head against the concrete. “It should have been you—” James snaps at Peter. “If it came down to you or her—you should have saved her!”
“W-What?” Peter stammers, eyes wide. “She chose to save m–me.”
James sneers at him. “You should have just died.”)
. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .
(1996; CURRENTLY, IN THE PRESENT.)
ST. JEROME’S GRAVEYARD had exactly one visitor. Remus Lupin sits in between James and Lily’s graves, a bottle of firewhiskey in his hand — four empty at his side. He must be going crazy. There’s no funeral for Sirius as there’s no body to actually bury, Harry is presumed missing after an attack in Diagon Alley, and your name stares back at him mockingly. He tries not to dwell on your passing — there have been too many holes, too many details left unsaid; and he knows just the rat who has all the answers. Unfortunately, Wormtail won’t come out of whatever hole he’s crawled into. Either him, or Severus.
He sighs, rubbing the temples of his head to ease the growing pains.
You are the first to be buried of the five. Like Sirius, there had been no recovered body to lay to rest, but they asked for a compromise instead. Your name is engraved under Euphemia’s in her tombstone, and Remus figures it’s the fitting place to leave you be — with your mother, welcoming you home with open arms. He hopes you’re at peace, wherever you are. (Because, honestly, at this point, he might just fucking follow you.)
Remus takes another swig of his alcohol, laughing bitterly to himself. He glances at James’s headstone and raises his bottle to him. “Not even in death, huh?”
He downs the last of the drink, rising to his tremulous legs. Remus gathers the flower bouquets he had bought earlier this morning; lilies-of-the-valley for Lily, white carnations for Euphemia, forget-me-nots for you, and for James — Remus leaves a moving photograph of him and Sirius; it’s a snapshot taken by Lily during the wedding as James dips his head low to kiss Sirius. Remus thinks it’s a wonderful memory to remember them by.
“Take care of them for me, Jamie.”
And that is all the goodbyes Remus has the strength for.
end note. i think i was crying the whole time i was writing this part, LMAO. i should be able to wrap things up in the next one. important!! there is actually a scene i was hesitant to include, but i ended up writing anyway. it's the whole part where allegra greengrass breaks down, and it was difficult for me to decide because i knew the implications; that i had a strong underlying message in that part, and i don't want it to be misconstrued or anything. pls pls tell me if it comes off as offensive, i definitely don't want to hurt anyone. nevertheless, thank you again so so so much for reading!! if you spot a plot hole, no you didnt!! i hope the time-jumps weren't too confusing! again, thank you so so much for reading!!
#hp angst#hp fluff#hp imagine#hp x reader#james potter x reader#lily evans x reader#marauders angst#marauders fluff#marauders imagine#marauders x reader#sirius black x reader#poly!marauders x reader#poly!marauders fluff#remus lupin x reader#sunny's hp fics
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˖⁺｡˚⋆˙third wheel | CL16˖⁺｡˚⋆˙
pairing: charles leclerc x actress!reader y/n (she/her) x alexandra saint mleux
genre: social media au, polyamorous relationship
warnings: polyamory
summary: in which you and your girlfriend have to keep yourselves entertained whilst your boyfriend is busy with work
a/n: ig alex's insta isnt on priv jus for the sake of the story tehe
request!!!: I really don't have any plot ideas other than the fact that I want to see more Alexandra content, why is everyone acting like she’s not dead gorgeous? Anyway, maybe a smau with Charles x actress!reader x Alex??? Idk 🤷🏼♀️
my masterlist
instagram ->
f1wagupdates
liked by user18, user33, user2 and 74,927 others
f1wagupdates alexandra saint mleux and y/n y/l/n spotted out together in monaco tonight – charles leclerc not spotted with them like he usually is!
view all 5,164 comments
user1 y/n third wheeling much
user2 she's literally in a throuple with them fym
user1 it's never been confirmed stop with the crazy conspiracies
user3 yea she just hangs out with them 24/7, platonically though 🙄
user4 ppl who still don't believe they're in a throuple are just homophobic at this point
user5 they're so cute together
user6 i love alex & y/n more than alex & charles 😝
user7 they r both so elegant <33
yourusername posted a story
liked by charles_leclerc, sydney_sweeney, and 285,766 others
user8 fav girls
charles_leclerc 😻😻
liked by yourusername
user9 alex is so elegant
user10 wish i was u y/n
alexandrasaintmleux posted a story
liked by charles_leclerc, lilymhe, and 88,624 others
charles_leclerc Wow
alexandrasaintmleux that's what i said
user11 i love her
user12 her outfits always slay
user13 coolest girl on the planet
messages ->
instagram ->
yourusername
liked by charles_leclerc, alexandrasaintmleux, and 883,636 others
yourusername what no plans with my girl looks like
tagged: alexandrasaintmleux
user14 GOALSSS OMG
sydney_sweeney miss you y/n <3
yourusername 🥺 me too i'll see u nxt time im in LA
sydney_sweeney PLEASE
alexandrasaintmleux love you 🫶🫶
yourusername love you love you love you
charles_leclerc so so so gorgeous
yourusername real, she is
alexandrasaintmleux no, her!
user15 and you expect me to believe they're not in a throuple
user16 invite me next time 🙄
user17 me when
yourusername posted a story
liked by yoursister, landonorris, and 163,273 others
charles_leclerc stop it!!!
yourusername stop what 🥺
charles_leclerc hanging out without me.......
yourusername miss you too charlie
charles_leclerc one more week
yourusername we're counting down 🫶
user18 alexandra again??
user19 so cute luv when u have breaks between filming
landonorris posted a story
liked by carlossainz55, alexandrasaintmleux, and 188,743 others
user20 omg y/n??? she must be a wag
charles_leclerc NOT YOU TOO???
landonorris keeping them safe!
charles_leclerc THEM?? you're with alex too 😔
landonorris 😇
user21 omg cute?!?!!
user22 fourple now🤓🤓🤓
twitter ->
instagram ->
yourusername posted stories
liked by charles_leclerc, pierregasly, and 189,636 others
charles_leclerc i miss you have a good day
yourusername tysm sweetest❤️
alexandrasaintmleux posted a story
liked by charles_leclerc, landonorris, and 124,064 others
charles_leclerc stop torturing me!
alexandrasaintmleux dont be such a baby
lilymhe posted a story
liked by charles_leclerc, francisca.cgomes, and 101,736 others
charles_leclerc omg 😍
liked by lilymhe
user29 this is giving.....more throuple proof
messages ->
instagram ->
alexandrasaintmleux
liked by francisca.cgomes, yourusername, and 264,193 others
alexandrasaintmleux 💋
tagged: charles_leclerc, yourusername
view all 6,273 comments
yourusername prettiest girl in the world
charles_leclerc i second that
alexandrasaintmleux 🤭🤭🤭
user30 everything about this is screaming throuple confirmation
user31 the way alex is looking at y/n 🥹
user32 RIGHT??! i thought it was just me
user33 i didn't know charles was back alr
pierregasly did you kidnap charles
alexandrasaintmleux no he'd just rather be with us than with you
user34 US??!!!!
user35 the three drinks ...
yourusername
liked by charles_leclerc, alexandrasaintmleux, and 1,732,047 others
yourusername ☀️
tagged: charles_leclerc, alexandrasaintmleux
view all 33,917 comments
user36 HELLOOOO????
user37 i just screamed my head off at the last slide
user38 the pic of y/n and alex omg my heartttt
user39 KNEW IT
user40 throuple deniers rn: 🙁
user41 the thirst trap pic and then the big reveal
charles_leclerc wow you two are so insanely gorgeous
alexandrasaintmleux she is, isn't she? :)
yourusername alex ur literally a model
alexandrasaintmleux fight me!!
charles_leclerc NO! we only love here
alexandrasaintmleux sorry. i love you my sweetie pies
yourusername i love u i love u both always
charles_leclerc i love my girls 🥰
THE END ❤️
#f1#f1 smau#smau#f1 fanfic#f1 x reader#f1 fic#f1 imagine#charles leclerc#cl16#charles leclerc fanfic#cl16 one shot#cl16 smau#cl16 x y/n#cl16 fluff#cl16 x you#cl16 x reader#cl16 imagine#cl16 fic#f1 polyamory#f1 poly#alexandra saint mleux#maddie's smau
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