sun-kissy

if i was empty space

and you were a formless shape, we'd fit

218 posts

Hello. I Dont Really Know How To Do This Properly

Hello. I don’t really know how to do this properly

Can you make something where the reader is like two/three years younger then the marauders and like grew up next to James so he’s like her older brother type thing? Completely fine if not but this has been stuck in my head

(zero romance pls if you do pls)

thank you so much for the request!! ♡ i tried to play around with the plot a little :)

always | j.p.

Hello. I Dont Really Know How To Do This Properly

tw: fluff

james potter x reader (platonic)

Your hands instinctively come up to shield your face as confetti rains down in the Great Hall for the third time that evening.

A frown settles on your face as you slowly lower your arms, feeling the split second when your hand comes into contact with a drink on the refreshments table and knocks it to the ground. A frustrated groan escapes your lips.

You flick the remnants of the drink off your hand and sigh, moving away from the table to go lean on another wall. You shuffle your way through the various couples giggling and dancing and snogging, feeling your resentment grow by the second. Once you’ve safely reached the other side of the mob in the middle of the hall, your eyes rake over the place.

As usual, Hogwarts was shimmering with splendour for the annual ball. Fairy lights adorned the ceilings, and decorated tables were laden with every type of food you could think of. The long tables in the centre had been cleared to allow for dancing, while the Weird Sisters played popular tunes at the front of the hall.

You tried not to let it get to you, but as you awkwardly shuffle around to make way for couples trying to get past you, a dull ache makes its way into your heart.

Kingsley Shacklebolt had very sweetly asked you to the school dance a couple of days ago and you had agreed. The whole evening had been spent in preparation for tonight, doing makeup with the girls and putting on your lovely dress adorned with golden butterflies. But Kingsley fell terribly ill an hour before the dance, and couldn’t muster the strength to even get out of bed.

It was unfortunate, something you were so looking forward to going wrong like this. Especially since you really really liked Kingsley.

You sigh, loneliness and embarrassment starting to get the better of you as you resign yourself to staying as an onlooker. Couples fade in and out of your vision, twirling and prancing around. A huff of resentment escapes you as you try not to glare too hard at those having fun.

Just when you stand up straight, deciding that there was no point staying, you feel a hand on your shoulder and startle. Turning around, you come face-to-face with a grinning James Potter.

“Hey Pickle. You doing good?” he asks, his smile widening as he sees the frown on your face.

That was what James had called you since you first met on the Hogwarts express years ago, a timid first-year crashing straight into the most popular third-year in the school. You bumped into him while holding a jar of pickles (god knows why), and ended up hurling them all over him. He laughed it off while you apologised incessantly and cleaned him up. He thought you were adorable.

That day, James pestered you about yourself till you snapped, and the two of you were inseparable ever since.

“No, Potty. I’m not doing good. Kingsley’s sick,” you mutter, trying to veil the hurt in your voice with anger. He lets out a sympathetic coo and softens, his hand moving down to take yours.

You sigh, your anger dissipating to leave disappointment. “I’m gonna leave,” you murmur, turning around to get to the door. But his grip on your hand remains firm. You turn back around, brows furrowed in confusion.

He's smiling at you, tugging on your hand with that mischievous James Potter twinkle in his eyes. “Come on, Pickle.”

“What?”

“Come on. One dance?”

“Jame-“

“Pickle! You’re no fun. Pleaaaaase?”

You groan, mocking reluctance as you let yourself be led by him as he pulls you to the dance floor. “I can’t dance.”

“You don’t have to, I can do it well enough for the both of us,” James grins. He wraps his arm around your waist, takes your hand in his other one.

He pokes at your hand, gesturing for you to put it on his shoulder. You sigh and do as you’re told. He gives you a small smile and you soften, unable to help smiling back in return.

As the two of you position yourself, the loud manic pop music previously playing comes to an end. A gasp escapes you, your eyes lighting up as you hear the first notes of ‘O Children’ start to play. A childhood favourite, your mum’s go-to song to sing.

James chuckles, slowly starting to sway you along to the beat.

‘Lift up your voice, lift up your voice…’

You move along with him, closing your eyes and feeling the rhythm.

‘Children!...’

James’ footing is perfect, yours is haphazard. His movements are elegant, yours rusty. His dancing on beat, yours attempting to be. But the smile that graces both of your faces is the same.

‘Rejoice, rejoice…’

A giggle escapes you as he twirls you around, both of you bursting out into laughter as you trip on his shoe and your face lands smack on his chest. None of you pull away.

You stay like that for a while, your face buried in your shoulder as he holds you close. The two of you move from side to side in time with the music. You melt into his touch, feeling all your disappointment disappear as you tenderly dance to the soft tune.

“Thanks, James,” you murmur gratefully. He smiles down at you.

“Hey, none of that. You’re my Pickle - of course I had to pester you to dance, I always will,” he chuckles, ruffling your hair. You grin into his shoulder, playfully punching him in the stomach.

“And this song better be playing at your wedding. I need to show everyone, especially your future husband, just how much you suck at dancing.”

“James!”

He laughs, wincing as you pull away to smack him on the shoulder. He pushes you back, but catches you before you tumble to the floor. The two of you are clutching your stomachs and each other’s hands.

You and James dissolve into heaps of laughter and joy, just like you always do.

More Posts from Sun-kissy

sun-kissy

10 months ago

I am BEGGING on my knees for a part two to "Meant to be" 🧎‍♀️🧎‍♀️🧎‍♀️

your wish is my command, sweetheart!! here is part 2. thank you guys so much for all the love on part 1 ♡

meant to be | poly!wolfstar (part 2)

I Am BEGGING On My Knees For A Part Two To "Meant To Be"

part 1 | part 2

tw: angst, hurt/comfort

poly!wolfstar x reader

The chillness radiating off the wall behind you does nothing to ease your pain as you slump to the ground outside the common room.

You press your fingertips to your lips, nibbling on your nails anxiously as you feel the hot tears dribble down your cheeks.

It was over. Your relationship with Sirius and Remus was over, and it was all your fault. You had ruined it.

It had felt like the right decision two minutes ago when you were admitting your troubles in the common room. It had felt like something you had to do for the past few weeks, whenever you saw the boys together without you, whenever you felt like an extra in their relationship.

So why did it feel like there was a gaping hole in your heart? Why did it feel like your insides had just been clawed out and crushed to pieces?

This was your doing, your choice, you told yourself. No point mourning for a relationship that was already dead.

Maybe Sirius and Remus were bubbling with laughter and cuddling in the common room right now. You really hoped that they were glad to be rid of you, because it was worth feeling this hurt if it meant they were happy.

As your thoughts of culpability begin to consume you, your vision starts to blur with tears. You lean your head against the wall, eyes closing as a soft sob escapes your lips.

It was dawning upon you that you really had lost the boys you loved, and there was nothing you could do about it.

You freeze, your train of thought evaporating into thin air when you suddenly feel a hand on your cheek, thumbing the tears away.

You could recognise his touch anywhere, hands calloused from animalistic tendencies but gentle as a lamb when he traced hearts on your skin.

Eyes fluttering open, you come face to face with Remus, his beautiful face scrunched up in a sullen frown. Your vision flickers over to Sirius, standing behind him.

Sirius looks unsteady on his feet, swaying slightly from side to side with bloodshot eyes and tear tracks on his cheeks. Your heart feels heavy in your chest, and you know you probably look just as bad as he does. He was gazing at you with an unfamiliar desperation in his eyes, which truly, really mortified you. And to think you thought he would be pleased with the breakup - god, you were horrible.

“Dove,” Remus breathes out in a quiet rasp, drawing your attention back to him. You will your heart to stay intact as you look into his hazel eyes, but you feel it breaking anyway. Not a single word comes out your mouth knowing full well that you would break down into a sobbing mess if you spoke. You avert your gaze and opt to stare at the ground instead.

“Hey, look at me, please,” he whispers, rubbing your cheek again with those stupidly lovely hands and looking at you with those disgustingly pretty eyes and all the love in the world that you wished that you could die. You quietly raise your head to look at Remus again, and he offers you a small, forced smile to compensate you for your effort. “There’s my girl,” he murmurs.

His hand suddenly retracts from your face, and you hate to admit it but you miss his warmth immediately. His eyes widen slightly, and it’s like he remembered that you’re not his girl anymore. You’re not his.

There’s a beat of sad silence as all of you sit with the fact that things weren’t the same as they used to be, maybe they never would be.

“Y/n,” Sirius croaks out, breaking the silence as you whip your head up to look at his grief-stricken face. It’s not so much the brokenness of his voice as the fact that he isn’t trying to hide it which hurts your heart. “Can we… can we please just talk this out? Please?”

He takes a small wobbly step toward you, extending his hand. You feel the sirens in your head start to sound loudly. Should you give him your hand? Should you give him your heart again?

You despise the feeling of longing which immediately strikes you. The desire to feel Sirius’ fingers intertwined with yours again, the wish to hold him in your arms, the need to wipe those tears from his lovely face. You wished things to be as they once were, his arms around your waist and lips on your forehead. Remus’ head on your lap as you combed your fingers through his hair, eyes fleetingly meeting before smiles full of love were passed around. It wasn’t just a relationship, it was a home. It was achingly sacred.

That home was broken, tarnished. Maybe it had been broken since the day you fell in love with them. Maybe it had been torn apart when they carried their relationship along without you. Or maybe you had ruined it when you told them you wanted no part in this affair anymore.

But if there was one thing you knew, it was that things that were broken could be fixed. You knew this fact like the back of your hand, from the countless times Remus had uttered those exact words to you when you were dissolving into a mess of tears and panic. You knew the words from when Sirius murmured them softly in your ear, stroking your hair as you sobbed yourself half to death. When you were trapped under the debris of problems that was your life, broken and scarred, they had pulled you out. They had fixed you.

Undeniably, Sirius and Remus had made their fair share of mistakes, unintentionally shunning you from the best parts of their relationship. They had torn your heart apart, but they fixed it up every single time they kissed you or smiled at you like you were the most precious thing in the world. Those fleeting moments had made all the hurt seem like nothing.

So who were you to deny the boys your affection? Even when they made mistakes, it was okay; because they loved you, and that was enough. You knew they might stumble and they may mess things up, but they would always get back up and take your hand just to look into your eyes and hold your hands. The sheer force of their love would be enough to overcome their shortcomings, you were sure of it.

So when Sirius stretches out his palm towards you, you wrap your hand around his. Remus watches on quietly, wide eyes darting between the both of you.

Sirius’ face lights up immediately, a hint of relief in his eyes. It looks like all the tension has left his features as he gives you a small smile. Your lips curve upwards in a soft smile. “Yeah, I think… I think we can talk about it. I’m sorry for just walking out on you guys like that.”

“No, angel,” Remus retorts immediately, standing up and wrapping an arm around your waist to haul you up as well. “It’s not your fault at all. We… we screwed up, big time. We were blind to your feelings, and we’re really fucking sorry for that,” he sighs, running a hand through his hair defeatedly.

“But we’re gonna do better. We’re gonna make it work,” Sirius pipes up uncharacteristically firmly, his hand squeezing yours reassuringly. Remus nods, lifting his gaze to look at you as well. “Yeah, for you. We’re gonna try harder just for you.” Seeing the determination and love on their faces involuntarily melts your heart and brings a smile to your face, a real one this time.

The hint of happiness on your face is a big enough victory for them, Sirius’ smile morphing into a usual full-blown grin, and Remus’ arm tightening around your waist as he pulls you into his side. He moves you towards the common room, Sirius’ hand still tightly gripping yours. “We’re gonna talk about it, but not after some much-deserved cuddles and hot chocolate,” Remus murmurs, a small grin gracing his face when he sees the smile on your lips. The three of you walk in that awfully awkward position, you pressed against Remus with your hand tightly gripping Sirius’.

But you wouldn’t have it any other way. Just like this relationship, which had its ups and downs. That was especially the case for a three-way affair, something foreign to all of you. You were bound to slip up and you were bound to make mistakes.

But you loved them, and they loved you. That was all that mattered.

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sun-kissy

11 months ago