#warm up drabble of sorts?

[aresite]

Postwick

It was still early when the trio entered Postwick. Ares had expected to go straight from the forest to the town but was surprised to see that after leaving the shelter of the trees behind that there was nothing but farmland for miles. They walked down an old, pitted dirt road that was lined with deep green hedges and dotted with trees that still clung to some of their leaves. They passed several small homesteads along the way and each one were separated by the same hedges that lined the road. As a child with no set home the sight of the homesteads intrigued him and he found himself distracted by each pen of Wooloo or cleared field that probably once held some sort of crop in it.

Jack said nothing as he led the way. He kept his head down and had pulled the brim of his hat down so low that it cast shadows across his face. Ares suddenly felt immensely guilty and looked back away from the older Rover. Olli on the other hand, looked like he had already moved past last night's events and had ran a little ways ahead. He darted left and right with a wide grin on his face as he tried to peek above the hedges.

Ares could hear the hustle and bustle of the town not to far away and the smells of freshly baked bread were wafting over the breeze. He kind of hoped that they would head that way and grab some, but to his surprise Jack seemed to be leading them away from the center of town and straight down the road towards what looked like a large manor home in the distance. He didn't realize how large though until they got closer... and when he did he suddenly felt very small.

The manor home was a large, two-story brick building with a red roof and ivy trailing down the sides. It was surrounded by a waist-high stone wall that was so covered in moss that it was nearly completely painted green. And, as they approached Ares saw a large gatehouse at the foot of the road with two guards standing watch. He braced himself to deal with the Guards, but instead of heading towards the gate, Jack pulled them to the side and led them along the wall towards the back of the manor home. As they circled around, Ares could see a large barn nestled in the back of the manor. It was here that Jack finally stopped and in one quick motion, jumped over the fence.

Both Olli and Ares followed suit, though with their reduced size they couldn't jump the fence so easily and had to use natural groves in the stonework as 'footholds'. Once they were both safely on the other side Jack pulled them both into a crouch.

"I want you both to stay here. Stay out of sight until I get back." He warned. "What? No fair!" Olli whined, "We wanna meet Maid Marian too!" "Maid Ma-?" Jack started, but he cut himself off and shook his head, "No. This is not a game, boys."

He put a hand on each of their shoulders, "I want you to listen carefully. This world is ruled by the strong and the wealthy - and they don't give a damn about people like us." Jack's word's startled Ares, but before Ares could even think about responding, Jack continued, "You saw that for yourself last night. If I wasn't there, then both of you would be dead right now." "But we're with you now, and you're strong!" Olli countered, "There are plenty people stronger than I." Jack replied, "And some of those people live here." "Stronger than you? No way!" Olli looked stunned, he turned and looked off towards the house with an amazed look, but Jack reached out and gently grabbed his chin to turn his attention back to him.

"Listen to me boys. This world is ruled by the strong and there are some 'things' those without power have to do in order to survive and what I am about to do is one of those, but I don't want you to see that. And until you are strong enough to stand and fight on your own, what you two need to do to survive is to hide." "But I don't wanna." Olli pouted, "What do I hafta do to become the strongest?" A sad look crossed Jack's face for a brief second but he was quick to hide it, "There will always be someone stronger than you, Olli. It's a fact of life." "But what about the King?" Olli countered. Jack looked surprised by that, but before he could question it, Olli continued, "Would a Prince ever have to hide behind a barn?"

Ares thought back to the Princess they had just met and remembered how all the Soldiers and Postwick Guards had cowered before her and by the look on Olli's face, he assumed that Olli remembered it as well.

"I suppose not?" Jack sighed. He stood up, "But none of us are Kings or Princess - so stay here, stay quiet, and stay out of sight." And with that, Jack gathered his cloak around him, turned, and started off towards the back of the manor home.

Ares looked at Olli. He could see the other boy was deep in thought for a second, before Olli clenched his hands into fists and without looking at Ares he said, "C'mon. We're gunna see what Jack's up too." "Jack'll be real mad if we do." Ares warned, "What're ya, a Wimpod?" Olli teased, "Jack'll never know if he doesn't catch us!"

And before Ares could say anything back, Olli broke into a crouch and hurried off after Jack - being careful to stick to the shrubbery am garden decor that decorated the back yard of the manor home. Ares clenched his jaw for a moment, but then groaned and followed after him.

[chubbybunny25]

PART 4 (ft. reyna and alabaster) of percico war au.

PART 1 (ft. percy and nico) | PART 2 (ft. alabaster and percy) | PART 3 (ft. nico and annabeth)

“Can you talk to him?”

Reyna follows Thalia’s line of sight. The son of Hecate—Alabaster—is alone in the balcony, playing mindlessly with his cards, letting them float on the air.

Why me, Reyna’s eyes are asking a silent question.

Diplomacy or whatever, the daughter of Zeus responds with her gaze.

Reyna just shakes her head fondly at Thalia’s raised eyebrow. Years of leading the Hunters, yet Thalia Grace still hasn’t quite acquired enough patience to handle situations like this.

“Hey…” the daughter of Bellona approaches Al. “Why don’t you get some sleep? Apollo might have done most of the work to heal Percy, but you’ve pretty much exerted yourself back there, too.”

They had a rough encounter with the Lamia. Something about personal vendetta towards Al.

“You should’ve just left me there.” There’s a certain tightness to Alabaster’s voice that Reyna can’t place. Was it guilt? Humiliation? “You shouldn’t—Percy shouldn’t have come to save me.” Pain.

She doesn’t know what the other demigod has experienced in the past for him to regret being saved. She saw Percy’s mauled form after his attempt to save Al. Had not Apollo intervened, things would’ve been really ugly.

“I don’t know what you expected him to do, Torrington.” Somehow, there’s a tinge of annoyance in Reyna’s tone. She can’t help it. the Roman in her retaliates at the mere question of loyalty within this small group. “But you should already know by now, Percy never leaves anyone behind. And we’ll do the same.”

“You’re exactly like them,” Alabaster murmurs with intense… with something intense. Anger? Bitterness? Frustration?

She doesn’t want to sound stupid, but she has no idea what the son of Hecate is talking about. “Come again?”

“It’s the same, okay?” Al snaps. “They all cared. They fucking cared! And now, you’re all doing it again, just like them!” He turns his back, but by the movement of his hands and the slight tremble of his shoulders, she knows he’s wiping angry tears.

Reyna will never know what exactly Al means, but she recognizes the guilt—the torment of having your hands stained by the blood of people you’ve failed to save. She knows firsthand that saying “sorry for your loss” or “it’s not your fault” just adds insult to injury.

“Is it so wrong for them to care?” Is what she finally says.

Alabaster faces her, brows furrowed. “No,” he breathes out after what seemed hours of deafening silence between them. “I suppose it isn’t. I… would have done the same after all.”

“They sound like good people,” she mutters, with genuine admiration.

“They were.” Al gazes up the sky. “They really were.”

Reyna can’t bring herself to disagree. not with the way Alabaster Torrington’s eyes seem to shine just at the mere thought of “them”.

[fridayth13]

"i think i love you." despite the darkness, asmodeus glowed at your confession.

"think?"

your breath danced against his skin when you laughed, and he felt he could be damned all over again. the sheer brilliance that radiated from you set him alight. he was on fire. he was a star. a meteor hurtling towards you without any thought of stopping.

or he could be the moon to your sun, maybe. everything about you turned the nerves under his pearlescent skin to electric currents. asmodeus knew he was quite brilliant by himself, but sometimes— very secretly— in moments such as this, he thought it might be possible that you were more beautiful than anything he's ever encountered. including himself.

"let's just say a ninety-nine percent chance." you replied.

he beamed. "hehe. i'll take it."

he'd make you love him for sure. one way or the other.

divider from @clutteredfun

[blackjackkent]

Rasaad/Jaheira (from Rassad's POV this time) - feeling a flutter after something they've done dozens of times

Karlach/Hector - accidentally referencing them as "my"

Rakha/Wyll - holding hands and that's all they can think of

("What Are We" moment prompts)

Karlach/Hector - accidentally referencing them as "my"

(NGL I really loved and got immediate ideas for all three of these so the others will probably be making an appearance in their own posts soon. XD But we start out with this one bc the idea amused me the most.)

-----

The mountain pass gets terribly cold at night - for everyone except Karlach.

She's always run kind of hot, even back before the Hells ripped her open, but these days it's just a non-issue. At the best of times, the engine keeps her temperature regulated, and with how bad it's chugging right now, it feels like she inhaled burning coal. Double bonus, she thinks with dry black humor. Keeps me warm as fuck and also means I have way bigger problems to worry about.

It must be about two in the morning. Most of the others have already retreated to their tents, and she should really do the same. The engine's feeling real bad tonight, though - it's been getting worse for days. And if she's honest, she doesn't really want to be alone right now.

So she drifts, half-asleep, dozing in the omnipresent heat, against a large rock near the campfire, where she can listen to Shadowheart and Lae'zel - the only others still awake - bickering.

"We should not have wasted our time in the Underdark," Lae'zel is saying sourly, tossing another few sticks onto the fire.

"You can stop complaining," Shadowheart answers. "Based on what that Esther woman said, your creche is practically within spitting distance."

"I begrudge any wasted time," Lae'zel grumbles, "when the threat of a ghaik transformation hangs above us."

"Carlisle listened to you," Shadowheart points out. "You might do well to just accept the victory rather than finding ways to poke holes in it."

"Carlisle is callow at best. Competent enough with his fists, I grant you, but in sore need of guidance."

"Which you can provide out of your wealth of experience," Shadowheart says, with a hint of mocking humor.

Lae'zel audibly bristles at this. "I would see us all survive, istik," she says icily. "I gave him the answer almost at our first meeting and it took him this long to recognize its worth. It was infuriating."

"Mmhmm. And that would of course be why you propositioned him this afternoon in front of all of us in the middle of the roadway," Shadowheart murmurs dryly.

Karlach, half-asleep, stiffens a little, squirming against the rock where she's been slowly drifting off. She was present for this little display of Lae'zel's earlier - and if she's honest, it's probably a big part of why her engine is acting up right now, because Karlach spent the whole conversation vibrating with agitation.

(Which is stupid, right? He doesn't even know how she's starting to feel about him, and even if he *did*, she couldn't touch him, and even if she *could*, he might not want to touch her back. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

But still... it stung, watching Lae'zel of all people try to get with him. It was real fucking clear the gith didn't want him for anything more than his body. And hells, Karlach doesn't have room to judge; she was once that twenty-year-old horndog herself, climbing on anything with a pulse.

But Hector... Hector's different. She can tell he is. He wouldn't want a quick fuck. He'd... he'd want to *love* her, properly, like in those romance songs the bards always sing...)

"That was a different matter," Lae'zel says defensively, oblivious to the way Karlach's nearby half-asleep form is starting to incandesce like a candle flame. "The body's satisfaction has no bearing on our practical needs. He would be a convenient outlet, no more."

"I see. How very pragmatic of you," Shadowheart deadpans. "You do know he's a Selunite, right? I'm not sure they even know how."

Lae'zel snorts. "He need only accept, and I would take what we both needed."

"Of course," Shadowheart says in a tone dry as sandpaper. "No accounting for taste. He's not bad to look at, I guess, but personally, I can think of a lot of better candidates for a romp than an old moon-drunk--"

"Hey." Karlach's still half-asleep but her engine is roaring with sudden irritation and the words snap out, slightly slurred, before she even means to speak. "That's my Hector you're talking about. Show some fucking respect." The bit of profanity emerges so sharply that she startles herself, jolting fully awake-- and as she does, she registers the full import of the words she just spoke.

Opening her eyes fully, she finds that Shadowheart and Lae'zel have both turned to stare at her. They make an interestingly asymmetrical tableau, as Lae'zel's eyebrows have hooded tightly down over her eyes, while Shadowheart's have shot to her hairline.

"'Your' Hector?" the cleric asks with visible amusement.

"I--" Karlach can feel herself flushing with embarrassment; luckily it's dark and she's already so red that the others won't be able to tell. Probably. "You know what I mean," she says hastily. "He's our leader. So you should treat him with respect."

She looks at Lae'zel. "You should know this - you're a soldier," she points out, and her voice calms a little on this subject where she's on firmer ground. "Chain of command, right? Morale?"

Lae'zel grunts. "Yes," she says warily. "You speak true."

"Yeah." Karlach nods several times. Her engine is raging with sudden adrenaline and her chest aches with the heat. "So. Y'know. Don't be pricks about it," she adds, just the slightest bit sourly.

Shadowheart is still watching her with a thoughtful expression, and a smile tugs at the corner of her mouth - although, to Karlach's surprise, it doesn't seem sarcastic. If anything, she seems rather chastened, and even touched by Karlach's abrupt interjection. "Message received," she says mildly.

"Good." Karlach nods again, and an awkward silence stretches between the three of them. "Fuck," she mumbles, rubbing a hand down her face. "I'm going to bed."

Without waiting for a response, she gets up and trudges in the direction of her tent. It takes several minutes (and several of the calming mantras Hector taught her) before she can actually get her engine under control enough to sleep.

What the fuck was that? she thinks ruefully as she finally stretches out on her bedroll and stares up at the ceiling of the tent. And what was that 'my' business? It had slipped out in her drowsy state so naturally that it had taken a moment to realize it didn't make sense.

Wishful thinking. She sighs. That's all. You should know better than to go down that road and start hoping. Go to sleep, before you make more of a fool of yourself.

[ceramini]

Could you do hot!sunghoonxhot!loser!reader or Jake, kinda like switching the roles btw I loved ur last drabble:3

⁺𝅄 𓊆 ❀ 𓊇 im not going to lie to you, this might be a bit more cringer than I wanted it to be (like cringe but not to much to the point it’s unreadable), but I hope you and whoever else is reading like it!! and tysm for liking the other ones ur so cute!! mwah <333

LET ME LOVE YOU ⋆˚࿔ YOU’RE NOT A FREAK

pair hot!sunghoon x nerd/loser!reader ͡ ͘◡ ꫶᳝��᳝᳜᳝᳜৯ tags praise kink, overstim, established relationship ✿ scene you say weird stuff when you’re nervous. and unfortunately, you’re always nervous during sex. sunghoon’s used to it by now, he’s had two years to adjust, but that doesn’t mean he’s immune to the wild shit that comes out of your mouth. ────── library ⊹ ࣪

like + reblog appreciated <3 click to join taglist

You’re already on your back when you realize it’s happening again. Your brain is short-circuiting and overcompensating with words, bad words, strange ones, the kind you’d never say if you had even an ounce of normal filter.

Sunghoon is kissing down your chest and you’re fully spiraling.

“I know this isn’t a good time,” you gasp, “but this is sort of giving, like, spiritual transcendence? Like religious ecstasy? Like Renaissance awe?”

He pauses.

Lifts his head.

And blinks up at you.

Your face is on fire.

“I didn’t mean that like a kink thing,” you say quickly. “Not like a nun thing. I just meant you’re really good at foreplay.”

He huffs out a laugh.

You throw your hands over your eyes. “I should be studied.”

Sunghoon’s smile tugs wide, amused in that quiet, understated way he always is. “You say that every time we fuck.”

“Because every time I get weirder!”

“You’re consistent. I like that about you.”

You peek between your fingers, pout forming. “You’re just saying that.”

“I’m really not.”

And then he’s shifting down again, nosing along your inner thigh, his breath soft and warm where your underwear is already soaked through.

“You always talk like that when you’re nervous,” he says gently. “Like you can’t stop your brain from making everything into a weird metaphor.”

“I’m not even hot,” you mumble.

He blinks. “That’s not true.”

You shake your head. “It is.”

Sunghoon leans in and kisses the inside of your knee. “You’re not hot the way other people are. You’re hot the way you are. And I like that better.”

You melt. Completely.

“I’m—im kind of puffy too,” you say, voice shaking. “I think that’s why I always feel like I don’t know what to do. I’m not, like, porn-looking.”

Sunghoon hums. “You’re cute.”

“I’m not fine or sexy or anything—”

“I don’t want sexy.” His hands tug your panties off. “I want you.”

Your breath catches.

He kisses the top of your thigh again. “And yeah. You’re puffy. Soft. Warm. So sensitive I can barely touch her without you twitching.”

You go utterly still.

Then: “It’s honestly not fair how sweet you are to me.”

“You make it easy.”

You’re about to say something else, something dumb, probably, like “that’s a crit hit to my heart stat,” but then his tongue touches you and your whole body jerks.

“Sorry,” you whisper immediately. “Sorry, I just—nobody’s ever done it like that before—”

“Good.” He kisses you. “I want you to remember it’s me. Always me.”

You nod, breathless. “You should get an award or something. Like a Nobel Peace Prize but for making girls cry in a good way.”

He groans softly. “You’re lucky I like you.”

“You adore me.”

“I do.” His voice is almost reverent. “And this cute, shy little cunt? She loves me too.”

You squeal. “Don’t say that!”

“Why not?”

“It’s— it’s embarrassing!”

Sunghoon’s laugh is muffled as he sucks your clit into his mouth.

Your fingers curl in the sheets, your thighs tremble, and your brain refuses to stop trying to narrate the experience like it’s a podcast.

“I feel like I’m being emotionally unraveled,” you whimper. “Like a poorly woven scarf—”

Sunghoon pauses. Just long enough to lift his head and look at you.

“…A scarf?”

“A loose one!”

“You’re incredible.”

He says it with a look like he’s watching the sunrise. Like every unfiltered, loser-coded, clunky thing you say is the most endearing miracle on earth.

You cover your face again.

And he goes right back to it, tongue slow and thorough, fingers steady, kissing and sucking and working you open with such frustratingly gentle affection that by the time you’re shaking and moaning and gasping out a high, warbly, “Sunghoon, I think I see God—” you really mean it.

He lets you come once, then twice.

And when he finally pushes inside, you’re already trying not to cry.

“You okay?” he whispers, kissing your cheek.

You nod furiously. “I’m—I’m just not used to being wanted like this. I’m not used to being seen.”

Sunghoon stills for a moment.

Then he wraps his arms around you and holds you tight.

“You’re not invisible,” he murmurs. “Not with me. Never with me.”

You sob. He rocks into you gently, slow and warm and steady, like he’s trying to make a home out of the feeling.

And even when you say stuff like “You’re fucking my soul out through a celestial portal,” he just keeps kissing your temple, smiling against your skin, and whispering:

“Good. Let it all out.”

🪷 ─── @gyarumindd (join the taglist guys..)

[colouredbyd]

The Secret's Out

poly!marauders x fem!reader

summary: When a familiar red panda keeps appearing during full moons and stolen afternoons, the Marauders can't help but feel like they're being watched. But when a single accident unravels the truth, they discover that their elusive companion is much closer to their hearts than they realized.

warnings: fluff, animagus secrecy, fluffy moments, slow-burn tension, unspoken feelings, hints of angst, fluffy ending. technically part of a blurb series but can be read alone

w/c: 5k (this was supposed to be a drabble)

a/n: flicker is so <3

part of my mini blurb series Flicker's Adventures

masterlist

You weren’t exactly proud of how long you’d kept it hidden.

It had started as an experiment—an idea that had tumbled into your head after one too many late-night discussions with Remus about Animagi. He always talked about it with a sort of reverence, his fingers absentmindedly tracing the spines of dusty library books, eyes distant with the flicker of moonlight. You’d been enchanted with the idea. A secret shape. A second self. Something you could slip into like water, effortless and soft.

But you’d never intended for it to become…this.

The first time you transformed, it was clumsy and half-formed. Paws that didn’t quite fit right, ears that twitched with every sound, like you were listening to the whole world all at once. You barely managed to change back, sprawled out in the underbrush of the Forbidden Forest with twigs stuck in your hair and dirt smeared across your cheeks. But it got easier. Night after night, you practiced alone, curling up at the base of trees or darting between shadows, soft and silent.

It was thrilling. Until it wasn’t.

Because the Marauders, for all their brilliance and their utter inability to mind their own business, had a knack for being everywhere you weren’t supposed to be. And it was only a matter of time before the encounters began.

They had been your best friends since fourth year, and over time, things had shifted, melted, molded into something beautiful and far more complicated. Sharing breakfast meant pressing soft kisses to sleepy cheeks. Studying in the library meant James playing with your hair while Sirius sprawled with his head in Remus’s lap. It was easy, and you loved them fiercely, just as fiercely as they loved you.

But you had secrets too.

The first time, it had been easy to avoid them. You’d been curled up in your Animagus form, nestled atop a low branch near the Black Lake. The sun had been warm, and you’d let yourself drift, tail flopped lazily over the edge like a banner of red silk, swaying gently with each breeze that whispered through the treetops.

You had always loved transforming during the quiet hours. When the grounds were empty, and the lake shimmered under the light of the sun, it was your time to breathe—to be just a flicker of red in the trees, untethered and unseen. You’d never been caught before. Not once. You knew how to blend in, how to become nothing more than a flash of red fur and shadows. But that day, you’d let your guard down.

When the footsteps crunched over dead leaves, you barely had time to snap awake, your heart seizing with panic. You scrambled upright, claws gripping the bark as you peered through the thicket of branches. Just beyond the edge of the lake, James and Sirius barreled into view, laughing and tossing a Quaffle between them, voices carrying in that easy, careless way they always did. They were still dressed in their Quidditch uniforms, mud-splattered and windblown, clearly just back from practice. Their cheeks were flushed from the cold, eyes bright with that post-game adrenaline.

They looked almost painfully perfect in the sunlight. Sirius’s hair was wild, catching the light with every toss of his head, while James wore that familiar, untamed grin, glasses askew but somehow still perfectly him. You couldn’t help but watch, tucked away in the shadows, your tiny heart hammering as you watched them joke and shove at each other like children.

“What was that?”

James had stopped short, hand frozen mid-toss as his eyes squinted through the sunlight. He stepped forward, brow furrowing as he peered into the trees. “I swear I saw something.”

Sirius just laughed, clapping him on the shoulder with an exaggerated huff. “You’re losing it, love. Probably just a squirrel.”

“A red squirrel? That big? Nope.” James shook his head stubbornly, still squinting, his eyes scanning the thicket where you were tucked. You flattened yourself against the branch, curling your tail around your body like a shield. For a moment, your eyes locked with his, and you froze, heart leaping to your throat.

But Sirius had already moved on, still tossing the Quaffle back and forth as he wandered down the trail, oblivious. “C’mon, Prongs. We’re supposed to meet Remus and dovey at the library, remember? If you’re gonna start jumping at shadows, at least make it something interesting. Like a dragon.”

James huffed out a laugh, shaking his head as he finally turned away. “You’re a menace, Pads.”

“Wouldn’t have me any other way.”

As they wandered away, you let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding, claws still gripping the bark with tension. But then—

“Oi! Hold up,” Sirius called, suddenly pausing mid-step. He squinted back towards the tree you were nestled in. “You know, I’ve never seen something that red. Not even the squirrels.”

Before you could move, James stepped forward, eyes wide with wonder. “Holy shit. Siri, it’s… it’s adorable.”

Sirius raised an eyebrow, stepping up beside him. His grin split wide, and before you could so much as twitch, his hand shot out and scooped you right off the branch. “Gotcha!”

You squealed—an embarrassing little chirp—and squirmed in his grasp, claws scrabbling against his arm, but Sirius only laughed. “Bloody hell, Jamie, look at it! What is it? Some kind of magical raccoon?”

James reached out, petting your head like you weren’t currently panicking, and cooed. “Nah, I think it’s some sort of fox. But not any kind I’ve seen before.”

You wriggled harder, desperate to get away, and with a burst of strength, you twisted right out of Sirius’s hands and shot off toward the trees. You heard their shouts behind you—“Merlin’s sake, it’s fast!”—and the pounding of footsteps as they tried to follow. But you were quick, darting between trunks and under bushes until their voices faded.

Panting, you finally stopped in the shadow of a tree, ears perked as you listened for them. From the distance, you heard Sirius laugh. “Like a bloody flicker of light. Fast as hell, did you see that?”

James’s voice was loud with awe. “We should name it. Something quick.”

“Flicker it is,” Sirius agreed, still laughing. “Wonder if we’ll see it again.”

You slumped back against the trunk, heart hammering but… strangely warmed. Flicker. If only they knew.

The second time you crossed paths with them, you weren’t so lucky.

It was a lazy Saturday morning, the air crisp with the promise of autumn, and you were in your Animagus form, sneaking your way towards the kitchens for a pilfered biscuit or two. You’d become somewhat of a regular visitor—house-elves didn’t seem to mind, and there was always something fresh and warm to snatch. This morning, it was shortbread, still steaming and dusted with sugar. You snagged a piece in your tiny paws, nibbling at the edges with a pleased hum.

Just as you were about to make your way back to the common room, a familiar set of voices echoed down the hall. You barely had time to scamper beneath a long, linen-draped table before James and Sirius strolled in, Remus trailing behind them, looking a bit more tired than usual. Sirius had his arm slung around James, animatedly describing some outrageous Quidditch maneuver while James nodded along, spinning his wand between his fingers.

“I’m just saying, I think it’s got to be a magical creature,” James insisted, flicking his wand absentmindedly so sparks danced at the tip. “Nothing else looks like that. That tail? Come on.”

Sirius chuckled, elbowing him in the ribs. “You’re just upset it didn’t stick around for tea.”

Remus, who had been quiet up to this point, raised an eyebrow. “You two are still on about that red thing?”

“Flicker,” James corrected, grinning like he’d just found a new species. “And yes. Pads said it himself—like a flicker of red. It’s the perfect name.”

Sirius gave a wicked grin, nudging Remus with his elbow. “Prongs nearly cried when it ran off. Thought he’d never see it again.”

“I did not cry!” James retorted, his face flushing. “I was just—invested. It’s not every day you find a creature that cute wandering the grounds.”

Remus hummed thoughtfully, but his lips twitched upward. “Maybe it’s someone’s familiar. Or just a stray. Magical creatures don’t usually stick around unless they’re attached to someone.”

James pouted. “But it was too cute to be random. And the way it just bolted—it was like it knew we were coming.”

Sirius laughed. “Maybe it’s smarter than you, James. Didn’t want to be manhandled by an overexcited Gryffindor.”

You couldn’t help the amused little chitter that slipped out, your small nose twitching as you watched them from the shadows. But your distraction made your paw slip, sending a nearby spoon clattering to the ground. Instantly, three heads snapped in your direction.

“Well, would you look at that,” Sirius drawled, eyes twinkling with delight. “Caught in the act.”

Your heart leapt into your throat as you scrambled backward, accidentally knocking over a pile of napkins in your haste.

Remus took a cautious step forward, eyes narrowing as he peered under the table. “Is that…?”

Before he could finish, you bolted out from beneath the table, biscuit still clutched between your teeth. You heard James yelp, and Sirius let out a loud bark of laughter.

“Flicker!” James shouted, immediately dropping to his knees to try and catch you. “Wait! It’s you!”

Sirius lunged for you as well, hands outstretched, but you twisted just in time, skidding around the table leg and darting towards the door. Your heart pounded, adrenaline surging as you made a break for it.

Remus was quicker than you expected. He sidestepped into your path, his hands moving down to scoop you up, but you ducked just in time, sliding beneath a nearby chair. He let out a soft chuckle, clearly more amused than upset. “I don’t think it wants to be caught, lads.”

James practically whined. “But it’s so fast! Merlin, how’s it moving like that?”

You made a daring leap onto a nearby shelf, perching precariously on the edge as you looked down at the boys. James and Sirius both looked up, wide-eyed, as if they’d never seen anything more precious.

Sirius grinned, hands on his hips. “Smart little thing. Knows how to stay out of trouble.”

James glanced at Remus, eyes bright. “Do you think we could tame it? I mean, if we brought it food or something…”

Remus shook his head, though he was smiling. “James, I don’t think ‘taming’ wild animals is advisable.”

Sirius snorted. “Especially when it’s faster than you, Prongs. You might have to start bribing it instead.”

You shifted your weight, trying to balance, but your grip slipped, and you tumbled right off the shelf—directly into Remus’s waiting arms. He caught you with surprising gentleness, blinking down at you in astonishment.

“Merlin’s beard,” he murmured, holding you carefully. “You’re… really soft.”

You froze, heart hammering as his thumb brushed over your fur. James crept closer, his face lighting up. “Moony! You caught it!”

Remus held you securely but didn’t squeeze, his touch far gentler than you’d expected. “It’s not trying to get away now. I think I scared it into submission.”

Sirius ruffled James’s hair, smirking. “Told you Moony’s got that calming effect. Even on weird little red animals.”

James’s eyes sparkled with mischief. “You know who would love this? Y/N. She’s always going on about how she wants a pet—imagine her with this little thing. She’d lose her mind.”

Sirius laughed, nodding in agreement. “Oh, absolutely. She’d probably carry it around everywhere. Spoil it rotten.”

Remus chuckled, glancing back down at you. “Maybe we should introduce them.”

Your tiny heart skipped a beat, the mention of your own name nearly making you squirm. But you stayed still, hoping that somehow, they’d let you go before they realized just how close they already were to the truth.

As they continued debating who got to hold you next, you remained perfectly still, your tiny heart racing. You’d nearly been caught—and worse, you were currently in Remus’s arms, with no safe escape. If they suspected anything, your secret would be out.

But for now, you stayed put, hoping that somehow, you’d manage to slip away before they figured it all out.

And somehow, you always did.

The encounters with the Marauders continued, flickering moments in the shadows of the castle grounds, the edges of the Forbidden Forest, even the cozy warmth of the Gryffindor common room on particularly stormy nights. They never figured out who—or rather, what—you truly were, and you never stopped watching over them from your tiny, furred form.

Over time, it became routine. They’d spot you darting across the courtyard or perched on a low branch, and instead of startling, they would wave you over with scraps of food and gentle hands. Sirius started smuggling bits of chocolate for you, swearing it was good for "keeping up your energy," while James would leave small pieces of toast wrapped in napkins where he knew you’d find them.

Remus, though, was different. He’d sit beside you sometimes, long after the others had wandered off, his eyes thoughtful and his voice low as he spoke about things that clearly weighed on him. It almost felt like he knew—like he sensed something familiar in the way you stayed close, unflinching and steady, when his voice cracked or his hands shook.

And so it went on, this quiet companionship between you and the Marauders—secrets nestled within secrets, hidden in plain sight.

But secrets, you knew, had a way of surfacing eventually.

And the thread of secrecy is thin—fraying at the edges, whispering of unraveling. Not all lies are meant to last.

You padded through the underbrush of the Forbidden Forest under the pale glow of the full moon, paws light against the damp earth. Countless times before, you had narrowly avoided discovery, slipping through shadows and ducking under roots before any of the boys could see you. But tonight felt different. Tonight, you were pressing your luck, and you knew it.

The forest stretched wide and endless around you, the scent of pine and moss clinging to the air. Moonlight filtered through the canopy, casting silver webs across the forest floor. You moved carefully, silent as the mist curling at your feet, ears perked for the familiar sound of paws and heavy footsteps.

Because Remus was out here somewhere—prowling, restless, and wild. And you were not supposed to be here.

But you always were.

It had become a ritual, almost. When the full moon crept up on the horizon, you would follow at a distance, paws treading softly through shadow and light, keeping him within your line of sight. You were careful—so careful—to stay hidden. To remain nothing more than a flicker of red fur between the branches, a whisper of movement in the dark.

You didn’t do it because you doubted him. Not really. Remus was strong, stronger than most gave him credit for. His quiet nature masked a resilience that ran deep, carved out from years of learning to live with the curse that twisted his bones beneath the light of the full moon. You had seen it in the way he carried himself: back straight, chin lifted, even when shadows pooled beneath his eyes and his hands shook just a little more as the days crept closer.

But you also knew the weight he carried, the way his shoulders slumped a little lower as the moon grew fuller. The others saw it too, though they masked their worry with jokes and banter, their own kind of armor against the ache of helplessness.

You trusted Sirius and James. Of course you did. You trusted the way Sirius, with his sleek fur and boundless energy as Padfoot, stuck close to Remus's side. His massive form hovered protectively near, always ready to intercept any threat. And you trusted James, with his proud and unyielding presence as Prongs. His antlers cut through the shadows like moonlit knives, always circling, always watching. They were a seamless unit, fierce and unwavering, guarding their boyfriend with an intensity that rivaled the very stars.

But even so, you followed. Not because you feared they would fail him, but because you knew that sometimes even the fiercest protectors could not hold back the tide. You followed because you understood the way Remus's breaths came out ragged and sharp when the change began, the way his eyes, so often warm and gentle, burned with something uncontainable under the weight of the moon.

You followed not out of fear, but out of love. You needed to see it for yourself, needed to know that he was not alone. Because some secrets, even the best-kept ones, are born from the deepest affections.

You weren’t even supposed to be here. The full moon wasn’t exactly a secret—not to you, not to the boys, not to anyone who paid attention to Remus Lupin’s mysterious disappearances every month. And while Remus had been open about it with you—raw and vulnerable in a way that made your heart ache—Sirius and James had insisted you stay far, far away from the Forest during transformations. For your own safety, they said. For his.

They didn’t know that you had a secret of your own. They didn’t know you were perfectly capable of watching over Remus without the risk of getting torn apart. Because, well…they didn’t know you were an Animagus. And certainly not a red panda of all things.

But you’d always been stubborn, and you hated being shut out. So, here you were, paws barely making a sound against the forest floor, your tiny body slipping between shadows as you followed the familiar scent of musk and pine.

Tonight was different, though. The moon hung heavy and full, casting its silver light over the trees as you crept towards the edge of the Shrieking Shack, your heart pounding in your tiny chest. You had watched the transformation from the shadows, hidden and silent, waiting for the chaos to subside. It always did—eventually.

The howls had stopped. That was your sign.

Cautiously, you scurried through the cracks of the shack, slipping inside just as the silence grew thicker, heavier. Remus was there, sprawled out on the dusty wooden floor, still shivering from the aftermath of the transformation. His skin was pale, marred with fresh cuts and old scars, eyes squeezed shut as he tried to catch his breath.

You stayed hidden at first, tucked away in the shadowed corner of the room, watching with a quiet intensity. You were careful, always careful, as you slipped in unnoticed. The silence between your breaths stretched long as you waited. You needed to see him again. To be sure. He was okay. Alive. The simple reassurance of that truth was always the reason you came. It didn’t matter how many times you had witnessed it before, you still found yourself drawn here, drawn to him, like some unspoken promise you couldn’t shake. And yet, even after all this time, you still couldn’t quite bring yourself to let go of the gnawing fear that one day, it would all be gone. That one day, it would be too late.

And then it happened.

A small movement in the corner of your vision—the slightest shift in the air. You turned your head sharply, eyes narrowing. It was quick. A fleeting blur that seemed far too deliberate for your liking. Something so small, but still enough to spike your pulse with a jolt of panic. You froze, your eyes darting from one shadow to the next, until the source of the movement became clear. A spider—its legs long and thin, its body barely a shadow against the worn wooden floor. You held your breath for a second, staring at the creature as it crept closer with an eerie calm.

Even in your Animagus form, the instinct was immediate. Fear licked at the back of your throat, and before you could even stop yourself, a sharp, startled squeak escaped your lips. The sound was completely unexpected, startling even to you. Your body reacted before your mind could catch up, and within seconds, you sprang backward, your claws scraping desperately against the wooden floorboards in an effort to distance yourself. The panic that washed over you was raw, unfiltered. Your heart raced, pounding in your chest as adrenaline surged, your muscles tensing in reflex.

“...Flicker?” Sirius’s voice was the first to break the tension, disbelief coloring every syllable. His eyes were wide as he stared at you, sprawled out on the floor, fur still fluffed up from the fright.

James was next, practically stumbling over his own feet as he stepped forward, his expression a mixture of confusion and disbelief. “What the bloody hell is Flicker doing here?!” His voice was sharp, edged with that familiar note of exasperation that you knew all too well.

The room seemed to hold its breath for a moment, everything going unnaturally still as his words hung in the air.

You froze, your entire body tensing at the sound of his voice, wide-eyed and terrified. Every instinct screamed at you to retreat, to disappear, to vanish back into the shadows where it was safe. But it was too late. There was no hiding now. The room had shifted, all eyes now on you, and you could feel their gazes like physical weight pressing down on your fur. Panic rose in your chest, tightening around your throat like a vise.

Before you could react, Remus, still lying on the floor, managed to crack open one eye. Even in his obvious pain, there was something in his gaze—softness, tenderness—that cut through the whirlwind of panic in your mind. 

His lips parted in a slow, weak smile, and the warmth in his voice was unmistakable, soothing against the raw nerves coursing through you. “Hey… come here,” he murmured, his voice rough but somehow gentle. Despite his struggle to move, his hand patted the floor beside him in invitation. “Can’t really move right now.”

The sound of his voice, that calming familiarity, reached you with a force far greater than the fear clawing at your insides. You hesitated, your ears twitching nervously, unsure of whether you should give in to that pull. But something about the way he looked at you—something in the way his eyes softened, the faintest glimmer of affection and understanding—made it impossible to refuse. 

With careful, deliberate steps, you padded over to him, your paws light against the floor, though your heart pounded wildly in your chest. When you reached him, you curled up beside him, careful not to press too heavily against his wounded form. 

The space between you felt like a bridge you couldn’t quite cross fast enough, yet as soon as you were near, you felt his hand rest gently on your back. The touch was so light, so tender, it might have been a dream if it weren’t so real. You could feel his fingers brush against your fur, grounding you with every small movement.

James and Sirius, for all their confusion, exchanged bewildered looks across the room. They hadn’t expected this.

The air in the room grew thick with tension, all eyes still on you as you remained curled beside Remus, your heart pounding wildly in your chest. You tried to steady your breathing, but it was impossible. You could feel the weight of their stares, the confusion swirling between them like a storm just waiting to burst.

And then Remus chuckled. It was low, raspy, and yet the sound was warm, full of affection and something else—something that made your pulse skip. He turned his head slightly, his gaze meeting yours. For a moment, everything seemed to pause.

“I know it’s you,” he murmured, his voice soft but just loud enough for you to hear. There was no uncertainty in his tone, no hesitation. Only understanding. “You don’t have to keep hiding.”

The words felt like a shock to your system. Your breath caught in your throat. What? You stared at him, wide-eyed, your mind racing. How could he possibly know? How long had he known? You were about to ask, but before you could form the words, the rest of the room seemed to catch up to what Remus had said.

James blinked, his face a perfect picture of disbelief. “Wait… what?”

Sirius’s jaw dropped, his eyes narrowing in confusion and a growing sense of disbelief. “What do you mean? Know what?”

Remus laughed softly, a sound so full of warmth and knowing it almost made you want to shrink back into yourself. “Come on,” he whispered, giving a slight nod toward you, a knowing smile curling at the corner of his lips. “Reveal yourself.”

The room fell utterly still. The air crackled with that charged silence, the kind that comes just before something explosive happens. You hesitated, every nerve in your body on edge. The tension in the room was palpable, thick as smoke. For a moment, you thought you might be able to remain hidden, to stay in the safety of your animagus form, but Remus’s eyes were so full of trust, so full of that deep, quiet affection, that you couldn’t refuse him. Not now.

You took a shaky breath. You stepped back, slowly, tentatively, your paws scraping against the wood floor with every hesitant movement. And then, in one fluid motion, you transformed. Fur and claws gave way to skin and hands. The change was swift, almost disorienting, but before you knew it, you were standing before them, fully human, exposed, and vulnerable.

You could feel their eyes on you, wide and unblinking, trying to process the impossible. Remus's soft smile never wavered, his gaze warm and steady, a silent reassurance amid the storm of emotions swirling around you.

James was the first to break the silence, blinking as if trying to clear water from his eyes. “Merlin’s bloody beard! Flicker’s—You’re—” His voice pitched somewhere between awe and shock, hands still raised mid-gesture as if he had been frozen in time.

Sirius was not much better off. His jaw had practically hit the floor, his eyes impossibly wide. “That’s…how did…since when?!” His voice was high and incredulous, disbelief painting every syllable. His gaze flickered between you and Remus, a hundred questions bubbling just under the surface.

You stood there, cheeks flushed and heart thumping wildly, hands fiddling with the edge of your shirt. It felt surreal to be standing in front of them, exposed and vulnerable after months of hiding. You turned your gaze to Remus, the only one who seemed entirely unfazed. His eyes were gentle, crinkling at the corners as he regarded you with a sort of fondness that set your heart alight.

“Ever since you fell into my arms in the kitchen,” he said, voice soft and rich with nostalgia. “I smelled you. Even then, I knew.” His hand reached out, brushing his thumb over your knuckles, grounding you back into reality.

James let out a strangled laugh, half-disbelieving and half-amazed. “You mean this whole time…?”

Sirius’s eyes snapped back to Remus, his shock melting into something sharper. “Wait. Wait. You knew?” His voice grew louder, more animated. 

Remus blinked, a hint of a smile still playing on his lips. “Didn’t seem like the right moment to bring it up.”

Sirius’s expression turned comically affronted, his hands flying to his hips. “Not the right moment? Not the—Remus John Lupin, I am going to throttle you.” Without warning, Sirius dove at him, tackling Remus to the floor with surprising gentleness, considering his usual recklessness. Remus let out a soft grunt, half-laughing, half-protesting as Sirius pinned him down, grinning like a madman.

“Sirius!” he groaned, shaking his head, though there was affection in his tone. “I’m in pain, you know?”

But Sirius didn’t seem to care about that. He hovered over Remus, eyes gleaming with that mischievous glint you knew all too well. “You absolute bastard!” Sirius crowed, shaking him playfully. “You kept this from me? From us? Moony, we share everything! I tell you when I find a new freckle on my arse, but you can’t tell me Flicker is our darling girl?”

Remus chuckled, not bothering to fight back, his eyes crinkling with mirth. “You seemed happy enough with her as she was,” he teased, a glimmer of affection lighting up his gaze. “Didn’t want to ruin the magic.”

Remus’s laugh died down slightly as he met Sirius’s gaze, his expression turning a little more serious, though still soft. “I knew,” he admitted, voice quieter now, though it was filled with warmth. “I could smell it. I’m not just a werewolf, you know. My senses are… sharper than most.” He shifted slightly under Sirius, wincing as a wave of exhaustion hit him. “I’ve known ever since that night in the kitchen. And I just… I didn’t want to make a big deal out of it.”

Sirius, still hovering over him, raised an eyebrow. “A big deal? You kept this secret from me?” He gave Remus a playful shove, trying not to be too rough, but clearly finding the whole thing ridiculous. “Moony, you are a tease. But I guess you’re lucky I love you.”

Remus smiled up at him, his eyes soft with affection despite his exhaustion. “Lucky for me, then,” he whispered, reaching up to gently cup Sirius’s cheek.

James, who had been listening in, finally seemed to process what Remus had said. His face broke into a grin, and he shook his head in disbelief. He stepped forward, shaking his head in disbelief, though his smile was growing by the second. 

“Unbelievable. I’ve been feeding you bits of toast under the table for months,” he exclaimed, running a hand through his hair. “You let me make a bloody fool of myself!”

Sirius finally released Remus—though not before ruffling his hair mercilessly—and turned his attention back to you. His eyes softened, grin turning fond. 

“Well, that explains why Flicker’s always been so damn cute. No wonder you were my favorite,” he said, stepping forward and wrapping you up in his arms without warning. You let out a squeak of surprise, but Sirius just squeezed you tighter, his chin resting on your shoulder. “Our girl, huh? Been sneaking around all fluffy and adorable while we’ve been pouring our hearts out to you.”

James joined in, throwing his arms around both of you with a laugh. “I’ve been whispering my Quidditch strategies to you! Telling you all my secrets. Oh, you’ve played us brilliantly, haven’t you?”

You were laughing now, the sound spilling out of you unbidden and light, your hands curling into the fabric of their shirts as you squeezed back. “I didn’t mean to deceive you!” you giggled. “You were just…so sweet to me. I didn’t want it to end.”

Sirius scoffed, pulling back just enough to look at you, his hands still firm on your shoulders. “End? Are you joking? Now I get to sneak you bits of bacon and call it romance. You’ve upgraded our relationship, darling.”

James snorted, leaning back to ruffle your hair. “Honestly, it just makes me love you more. You absolute minx.” His hands found your waist, pulling you back into his chest with a grin. “And here I thought you just liked curling up in my lap because you were a needy little furball.”

Sirius gasped dramatically. “Wait, wait. This means…you heard everything, didn’t you?” He pulled back, eyes wide with a mix of horror and amusement. “All those times I talked to you about Moony and Prongs…oh, Merlin, I’m going to need to lie down.”

Remus, still sprawled on the floor, chuckled, propping himself up on his elbows. “You did tell her quite a bit,” he mused, raising an eyebrow at Sirius. “I was starting to wonder if you were sweet on our little Flicker.”

Sirius rolled his eyes but grinned shamelessly. “Oh, I am. And now I don’t have to feel weird about it.” He scooped you back into his arms, spinning you around once just for good measure before setting you down, his hands never leaving your waist. “I think this calls for a celebration. Butterbeer in the common room?”

James raised his hand. “And toast! For old times’ sake,” he added with a grin. “I’ve been feeding you scraps like you were some little stray, and it was you all along.”

Sirius chuckled, threading his arm around your waist as Remus finally got to his feet. “Merlin, I love you,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to your temple. “Human or red panda, you’re ours. No more sneaking off, yeah?”

You smiled, feeling the warmth of their affection wrap around you like a blanket. “No more sneaking off,” you promised, and the three of them pulled you into their embrace, laughter and warmth spilling out into the room.

And for the first time, you didn’t feel the need to hide.

[moonstruckme]

hi congrats on 10k this is sooo deserved!!!! i was wondering if you could write a blanket fort poly!marauders drabble w the prompt “i didn’t have anywhere else to go”? if you already have an idea in mind for this please write whatever you would like to but if you’re open to having something to go off of i was sort of thinking of pureblood!reader maybe crashing a sleepover at potter manor after deciding to leave home because of a similar situation to what sirius went through

Thank you <3

cw: implied family abuse (both for Sirius and reader, though it's left vague what that entailed), takes place after hogwarts, insanely cheesy narration sorry not sorry

poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 1.1k words

You don’t actually knock. 

You’re planning to. Or, you think you were planning to. You don’t actually know that you had a plan. You just—you apparated here on panic and adrenaline, but Merlin, what the fuck? You’re a mess. It’s the middle of summer, and you’re shaking, your bones rattling around in the hollowness of your body like coins in a tin cup. This is the worst idea you’ve ever had. They won’t want to see you. A crushing loneliness digs its fingers into your gut, and you turn to go, but the door just—opens. 

An older man stands on the threshold with a rubbish bag in his hand. His eyes widen to find you in his path, a warm, familiar brown. He says your name. 

You’re surprised that Monty would remember you. You only met once, and you were a child then, trailing behind James and Sirius down Diagon Alley, trying diligently to keep up with their long-legged pace and rapid-fire jokes. He does, though. Monty says your name with a familiarity you didn’t realize you shared and a warmth that makes your chest ache. It feels like you blink and then you’re inside the Potter’s home with him closing the door behind you. 

You can hear the boys in the next room. It’s that unceasing jabber that seems to accompany the marauders wherever they go, sometimes cut through with a bark of laughter or a shout of mock offense, voices rising and falling and overlapping in a cadence you feel like you know even now, but it sounds distant, like the echo of another life. Still, you move towards it. 

Remus spots you immediately as you come around the corner of the kitchen. James and Sirius are too caught up in whatever they’re making—half of the pantry shoved into a blender, by the look of it—but Remus’ eyes lock on yours, the both of you stilling. Ultimately, it’s his aburpt silence that gets the attention of the other two. Monty’s quiet throat-clearing helps. 

Sirius reacts much the same as Remus. Freezing, like he can’t make sense of you here and he doesn’t trust it. James, though—Godric, he looks just like his father when his eyes flare like that. They’re all older than you left them, more adult, and though you’d known they would be it pangs in a way you hadn’t expected. James breathes your name like it belongs to a ghost. 

“I’m sorry,” you say, taking a step back. Monty has disappeared—it will never feel less strange to you, how much liberty the Potters give their son with his privacy—so there’s nothing between you and the door. You think it’s best if you go back from where you came. 

“What?” Sirius’ brows furrow in a way that wavers between bemusement and upset. “Why are you—what are you doing here?” 

Isn’t that the question of the evening? You don’t know, either. 

You think James sees this on your face, sees that you’re about to run, because he steps around the counter with his hands held out in a pacifying gesture. “We’re just surprised to see you,” he says. 

And, well, that’s fair. You haven’t seen any of them since your parents collected you at Kings’ Cross after your last year. You haven’t seen much of anyone, honestly. And while you were locked up at home, thinking of your friends and fantasizing about leaving, they were off living their own lives. Now, reunion stings. It reminds you that there was a separation in the first place. 

Your voice shatters as you finally answer Sirius’ question. “I didn’t have anywhere else to go.” 

James’ arms come around you, and you become aware of the rattling again. You’re rattling yourself apart. He holds you together as best he can, though not tightly. It reminds you that this isn’t his first time. You’re not the first wounded stray to come to the Potters’ doorstep, and James knows how to handle you. 

“It’s okay, you’re alright,” he says into the side of your head, letting you grip him so that your fingers bunch in his shirt. “You can always come here.” 

“I’m—I—” Your breaths come harshly. You taste salt. “I’m sorry, I didn’t think—” 

“Shh. Sweetheart, it’s alright. Why don’t we have some tea, yeah?” 

You’re transferred smoothly into another set of arms. The worn knit of Remus’ jumper wraps around you. He rubs your back and ushers you into a seat. 

Sirius stands over you. He cups your face, that same confusing furrow between his brows. “Are you hurt?” he asks. 

“No.” You want to shrink, but his eyes trap yours. “Not…not in a way that’s…” 

Pain flickers in Sirius’ expression. “Right. Okay, I understand. You’re okay, darling.” 

His touch slips to the back of your head, and it’s all your need to drive you forward, your hands clutching his hips as your face buries itself in his chest. Sirius holds firm as you break down. 

“I know. I know. You’re safe now, baby. We’ve got you.” 

His voice tightens and strains, and you think of the peace you’d stolen from them by coming here. It makes you cry harder, broken apologies stuttering out your lips. 

“Shh, breathe.” Remus rubs between your shoulders. His touch is heavier than the others’, lacking their same awareness of the state of you, but you welcome the ache. “Deep breaths. We want you here. We always want you here.” 

“I just—when I left, I didn’t—I wasn’t thinking—” 

“Hey, didn’t you hear Remus?” There’s a gentle teasing to Sirius’ tone now. “Breathe.” 

You don’t feel like you deserve to, but you try for their sake, forcing air in and out of your nose. Sirius’ shirt smells like laundry detergent. You wonder if James’ mother washed it for him. 

“There we go.” His nails scratch at your scalp rewardingly. “I think we’re all glad that you didn’t think, sweetness. However you ended up here, we’re happy about it. Okay?” 

You sniffle. The clink of porcelain against the table turns your head. James is setting a cup of steaming tea in front of you, diluted with cream to just the color you like. 

“I wasn’t invited,” you croak, just to him. “Your parents…” 

His eyebrows lift. “My dad brought you in, didn’t he?” 

You have no reply to that. 

James smiles. It’s not his happiest, but the sight of it lightens something in you anyway. “You’re always welcome here, sweetheart. Consider it an open invitation, alright?” He nudges the cup toward you. “Have some tea.” 

So you pick up the tea James made for you, with Remus’ hand on your back and Sirius lingering by your side like he plans to stand between you and the outside world. It tastes like coming home.

[ryuucam]

SWEET BROWN SUGAR (VOL 2)

˓𓄹 ࣪˖ more kink drabbles :3 including jing yuan, gallagher, mr reca, phainon (vol 1 here)

contains a bit darker than vol 1 .. meanie jing yuan :(, gallagher is gross (i need him so bad)!!!! actress!reader in reca’s hehe, phainon is lowk insane

notes cant wait for mydei’s banner (i barely saved up a 10 pull)

JING YUAN — cockwarming + breeding

lazy sex with the laziest general on the xianzhou isn’t a surprise to anyone. but alas, despite being older, bigger and wiser now, he was still raised as a cloud knight, trained to build up as much stamina as he could. maybe, you wonder, that’s why he never seems to get too tired, never seems to get his stupid fat cock to soften. however, he just can’t be bothered to thrust into you, breaking out a sweat to pound in his sweet lover, no, he’ll just stuff it right into your cunt, keeping it warm as he finishes all the paperwork diviner fu sent him. too lazy to think about what the cloud knights who barge into the seat of divine foresight will think, jing yuan figures it’s best to keep you plopped into his lap all day. but of course his princess is bound to get bored, and he’s never been an evil man. so his honeyed words fill up the room, encouraging you to fuck yourself using him, hands rubbing your tits above your shirt. lunch breaks are his favorite part of the day, since you typically work up the courage to ride him then. he won’t help you, no, he’ll save his actions for later tonight, but he still keeps you plugged with his cum, filling your tummy and keeping it warm.

GALLAGHER — daddy + corruption

gallagher gets disgusted with himself sometimes. he knows he shouldn’t hang around you so much, but you make it so easy when you stumble into his bar for the nth time this month, short skirt hanging low on your hips. but, he also knows you really don’t know any better. he’s always so nice to you, maybe a little teasing here and there, giving you time and space to ramble about whatever fad you’re into nowadays. he just nods, eyes focused on the way your lips play with the straw of your drink. gallagher’s mind is filled with you, having spent countless off duty nights tugging at his cock wishing it was your hand instead. he doesn’t hesitate when he notices how you’ve been squirming on the bar stool, back arching and your nipples showing beneath your tight shirt. of course he doesn’t hesitate when you murmur something about feeling hot and wanting his help — maybe he should’ve. now you’re pressed into his small mattress, clothing long lost on the floor of his room, too busy squealing as he rubs and pinches your clit and tits. you really don’t know any better, relying on an older man to take care of you .. gallagher thinks you’re so cute, cheeks all red as you stammer out some daddy, please while he rubs his cock over your cunny. don’t worry, daddy’ll take really good care of you, ruining you for everyone else. gallagher’s gross, really, but you don’t seem to mind.

MR RECA — filming + lingerie

does this even surprise anyone? he’s penacony’s best filmmaker, known for his versatility and ability to make every genre feel appealing to the audience. of course, he can’t stick to traditional movies forever, especially since finding out how much he loves filming you. after begging you to star in a few of his movies (action, romance, whatever!), reca started feeling insatiable, completely head over heels for you. sure, he loves taking you out on cute dates and fucking you silly after, but there’s an itch he just can’t seem to scratch… until he gets the genius (his words) idea to dress you up in lewd, skimpy clothes, a stage costume of some sorts if you will, and film you getting ruined right after. he can’t pick a favorite, and thankfully he has no issues in buying you intricate lace bras or lewd latex thongs — you look great regardless, especially since he seems to have endless recording techniques up his sleeve, always managing to picture you in the best way possible. you don’t even notice, really, as reca plows his cock into you and moves the camera to capture your breasts bouncing in your flimsy bra. but of course, your little movies stay private, between you and him. the public is not deserving of such high quality erotica! (reca just doesn’t want to share you with anyone. you’ll stick to starring in slice of life movies for now.)

PHAINON — cunningulus + dacryphilia

phainon is almost the textbook definition of knight in shining armor, always tending to each and every one of your needs. even in bed, he only cares about your pleasure, spending hours and hours on foreplay, sucking your tits and bruising your neck with endless hickeys, before burying his face in your crotch. you can try to tell him to stop, to just fuck you already, but he doesn’t listen, drunk on your cunny! he sucks agonizingly slow on your poor, swollen clit, then presses wet kisses on your puffy lips before plunging his tongue in your hole. phainon is selfish, however, and despite making you cum countless times more than he does, he still wishes to leave his mark on you, so that everyone can see that you belong to phainon of the crysos heirs. his hands grip on your plush thighs, bruising your flesh, and he’s so much stronger than you — you can’t get him to leave your poor cunt alone even if you tried. when phainon stops, only because you cried a bit too much, he admires the tear stains on your cheeks. there’s a sick thought in his brain, plaguing his mind, of how innocent you look, all fucked out on his bed. the more you cry, the more he feels his cock harden again. but when you call out his name, he goes back to being the same sweet boy you know. he can’t let you know how he truly feels, who he truly is.

[deepspace-scenarios]

[scenario/drabble] Take a bite

LIs react when you have a squabble with them and use "bite me" as a retort. (You give them an opportunity, and they gladly take it) Genre: Fluff, TW: suggestiveness

SYLUS

The argument over which movie to watch dissolves into playful bickering, and Sylus lounges on the couch with that infuriating smirk.

He agreed to watch your pick right after casually commenting on how it is overrated.

"Bite me," you huff, crossing your arms. His crimson eyes darken instantly. 

"Oh, kitten," he murmurs, closing the distance between you languidly. "You shouldn't make that sort of threat."

Before you can react, his teeth graze your neck- just sharp enough to make you gasp. He pulls back slightly, and you feel his tongue dart out to soothe the skin. "Still feeling stubborn?" 

His hand slides up the back of your neck. "Or should I leave more marks to prove my point?" 

A thrilling wave of excitement curls through you, and you can't hide the grin that spreads over your face. “Is that a threat or a promise?”

He exhales, slow and measured, backing you into the corner of the couch. “It can be anything, kitten... But I can see that you want it. So it doesn’t change what I’m going to do,”

You tilt your chin up in a challenge. “Go ahead then, I’d love to see you prove your point,”

“As you wish,” he murmurs, lips touching your pulse point before he sinks his teeth into the soft skin, letting out a low hum when your fingers thread into his silver locks. 

“Someone's enjoying themselves,” he purrs, warm breath fanning over your skin as he nips at the sensitive patch again. 

Then the warmth vanishes, along with his looming presence. He reappears, leaning back against the couch just next to you.

Red-black mist coils around your waist, and you find yourself being seated, facing the TV, on his lap.

“Regardless, we still have to watch the movie,”

You scramble off with a huff, then straddle his lap- facing him this time. “I'm not watching any stupid movie when you are doing all that. Like you said, I was enjoying myself there-”

He smirks, hands finding their way around your waist.

“It's good to see you being honest about it, kitten. I like that.” His lips graze your collarbone, and you let out a shaky breath as he starts creating one out of many red imprints that bloom on your skin.

_____

XAVIER

The groceries on the counter are separated into two neat piles- yours, his. Not that it matters too much, you two are in each other's apartments often enough that snacks are always shared. But the groceries aren't for tonight, since it'll be your weekly night out with Xavier.

You’re debating the best BBQ restaurant in the city, and he is stubbornly saying nothing can compare to wagyu yakiniku when you snap, "Bite me!" 

Xavier blinks, then tilts his head like you’ve presented him with a fascinating riddle. 

"If you insist," he murmurs, and in less than a blink he is lifting your wrist to his mouth. His teeth press gently into your skin, more a caress than a bite. 

When he pulls back slightly, his lips brush the spot. "There," he muses. 

“Xavi!” You laugh, half-heartedly flicking his forehead.

"Done as requested.”

“But Xavi,” you argue, unaware of the heat in his downcast eyes. “K-BBQ is still the best to me,”

“Alright,” he says placidly, fingers tracing your skin, gaze still on your wrist.

Then he bites.

You gasp, instinctively yanking your hand back- but his grip is tight.

“Isn't this what you asked me to do?” He asks, blue eyes finally meeting yours in that familiar soft, innocent gaze.

But you know better.

You narrow your eyes at him, “Don't you gaslight me,”

“I concede, whatever you choose is better,” he says distractedly, eyes dark as he pulls you closer. “If you let me have just one more bite- I'll agree to go to whichever restaurant you pick,”

He lets you pick the restaurant- but he also leaves far more than just one bite.

____

ZAYNE  

It’s a weekend where Zayne has both days off, and he’s at yours, planning out your day. Visiting a bookstore, then a stroll in the park, grocery shopping, then dinner. Problem is, he doesn’t want to go to the new cafe despite its stellar reviews for both sweets and drinks.

"Bite me," you grumble after losing yet another debate on why the cafe’s carrot cakes are worth a try. It’s the third attempt this week at persuading him to go.

Even if you’d put a slideshow together on reasons why it’s worth, he probably wouldn’t budge. 

Zayne glances at you, his gaze cool and tinged with slight judgement. "Unhygienic." But then his grip tightens on your waist, pulling you flush against him. 

"However," he says, voice dropping, "if you’re requesting a demonstration of my jaw strength-" 

His teeth sink into your shoulder, just shy of painful. You yelp, arching against him, and he smirks against your skin. 

Dammit. He really hates carrots enough to play dirty- and now you have another problem. You like it.

"I can stop." He murmurs, lips brushing where he'd just bitten.

You inhale a shaky breath as you grip his arms. “Zayne-”

“Mm?”

“Do it again,” you whisper, letting your fingers trail up his forearms.

His breath hitches, and his eyes turn sharper. “I wasn't expecting such a strong effect,”

“You're the one changing the independent variable, doctor Zayne,”

He sits you on the kitchen counter and mouths at another patch of skin- just near your collarbone, “More data is needed to support this hypothesis, then,”

Between kisses and bites, you hazily think- maybe your effort in persuading him is worth it in the end.

_____

RAFAYEL 

There’s no doubt Rafayel had incredible talent, but the price of art could be baffling at times. Especially the amounts people were willing to shell out during auctions. 

You took a playful jab at him about his abstract painting just as you were unwrapping a few sandwiches and pastries to share with him. This led to the food being forgotten, and Rafayel’s passionate vent on why abstract art had its place. 

You play along, genuinely interested in his perspective- but enjoying his reactions even more.

"Bite me!" you retort mid-argument.

Rafayel gasps, clutching his chest. "Savage!" 

Then he grins, wicked. "But since you asked so boldly..." In a flash, he’s pinned you to the couch, nipping at your collarbone.

You squirm, trying to kick at him half-heartedly.

"Mmm, delicious," he hums against your skin.

“Don’t eat me, food’s right there!”

His laughter is bright as you shove him off, but he's quick to hook an arm around your waist and bring you onto his lap. “Food can wait,” he says before biting down lightly on your skin again.

When you try to flick him on the forehead, he catches your wrist. “Hey now, you tried to talk smack about art, and now you’re going back on your word- that’s two strikes in one shift, Miss Bodyguard,”

You drop a quick kiss onto his forehead, and he lets out a small huff. “That wasn’t your bodyguard speaking, she’s very professional. It’s just me now,”

“In that case, cutie-” His lips capture yours in a kiss, his eyes promising he’s far from done. “I hope you’re ready for more.”

_____

CALEB 

It was one time that you got lost on the way to meet him, and Caleb has never let you live it down ever since. He has his car keys in hand, ready to leave home, when you tell him you can guide him to the new ramen shop. And here he is, grinning at you with his arms crossed.

Your sense of direction is perfectly fine.

"Bite me," you challenge. 

Caleb’s grin turns wolfish. "You sure?" he asks, already crowding you against the wall. 

You nod- of course you know your way around the city. He can't keep holding a single incident against you.

Caleb, however, has other things on his mind. He ducks his head, his teeth scraping your earlobe. 

“Caleb- what are you doing?!”

“You told me to,” he murmurs, his breath hot against your skin. You find yourself suppressing a shiver.

“Not literally!” You yelp when he bites again, this time at the soft skin below your ear.

"Damn, pips," he murmurs, "Should’ve remembered you taste this good-”

You feel your face heat up from hearing his voice, low and rough- the way it gets when he's ready to toss aside any plans for you- what follows is usually dizzying pleasure.

“You're getting all quiet now,” he teases, pulling you in.

“Caleb- wait, dinner-”

His hands roam lower, pulling you in. "Do you really think I’d pass up on a chance like this? Now... where else should I bite?"

(Note: this was inspired by how it's technically canon that Sylus is bitey and I thought hm well what if something made all of them want to bite? and it turned out very fun to write teehee thanks for reading <3)

[hwallazia]

BITE IT, LICK IT, SPIT IT – 최산

synopsis . in which san discovers a new fetish while you ride him.

pairing . choi san & fem! reader

genre . smut (mdni!), established relationship, non idol!au, married!au.

taglist . @bro-atz @purplenimsicle @vampzity @iykyunho @yyaurii | apply to join my taglist ♡

word count . 0,7k

DISCLAIMER! dom! san, sub! reader, sort of lactation (milk involved but not specifically sucking it from the source), nipple play, cow girl position, bulge kink, mocking, dirty talk, praise, pet names (baby, princess), too much moaning and whining and whimpering, dacryphilia, basically san fucking the daylights out of reader (even though reader’s on top of him)

NIC’S NOTES yess, the title is based on billie’s lyric on “guess” how’d you know? <3 ;; also, i hate not having the time to write full-length stories so badly TT gotta survive with these little drabbles. so well, enjoy the meal babes !!

“put your back into it, yeah?”

his growl tingled your ear, hands reaching for his wide shoulders for support. you bounced up and down his length relentlessly, with no hesitation, no mercy. his hands found home in your hips which worked perfectly hard, fingers varying between lingering, fond touches and harsh grips on your flesh. your walls enveloped his cock in the most welcoming way, pulsating around him, giving him a taste of heaven.

“s-shut up,” your breathless whisper brushed his earlobe. “it’s hard when your husband has a fucking huge dick—“ you could almost continue your words. a strangled, loud moan intruding into your whiny complaint as he flattened his palm against your ass flesh, the sound of the harsh spank bouncing through the walls.

“just shut up and take it, baby.” he cooed at you mockingly, his recent action belying his honey-dripping voice, his lips finding their way up to your neck. cute love bites were spread all over the skin. “can’t be too hard now can it?”

your eyelashes swung the tears away by blinking once or twice, exhilarating pants rolled off your lips as beads of sweat were attached to your temple. you dropped your head back from the overwhelming feeling. eventually —when he grew far too impatient— he matched your pace, thrusting upwards and, therefore, reaching divine places.

“can’t do anything without my help.” his right found your bouncing breast and trapped it with his palm, his fingers immediately digging into the soft, almost pillowy flesh. “poor little princess.” he teased your nipple a little, sending to another wave of satisfaction as you melted into his touch. soon, a strange white liquid began to ooze out of the slit, resulting in san’s jaw dropping all the way down the floor, eyes wide open and dilated as he stared intently at the white essence, longing to get a taste of it oh-so-badly. the combination of his wife’s leaking tits bouncing right in front of him as his cock ramming into her insides formed a perfectly defined bulge was a sight for sore eyes. and he had the absolute pride to call it his, and only his to admire, to touch, to pleasure.

but you still were working hard on his dick, his hips still going up and down and providing him and you the most satisfying session. it wasn’t until you heard your husband speak that you realized what he was so immersed in. “fuck you’re leaking.”

“what do you mean—“ you questioned immediately and when you stared down at your sweaty body, your orbs twitched at the sight of your abdomen covered with drops of warm milk and san seemly falling in love with it. “oh my.”

you couldn’t understand why it happened right there and then, a swell of bashfulness drowning your senses and immediately stopping your movements to search for a towel or something to clean yourself up. but san paused your actions.

“what are you doing?”

“i’m sorry i’m just—looking for..” your sentence came out as fast as lightning and in parts, since you cut your words to reach for the nearest piece of fabric.

“i literally got you all covered with my cum yesterday and now you’re shy because of some milk drops?” he stated, leaving you frozen in your place. a strong blush inking your cheekbones cutely. he lifted your hips up a bit to immediately restart the game you left pending, his hard cock finding your tight, inviting hole. once again. where it belongs.

your immediate reaction was to scream, holding onto his abs to keep yourself from falling. the fast, restless pace your husband adopted pulled breathless gasps out of you, the loop of san’s name falling off your swollen lips like a mantra. his right hand abandoned your stuttering hip to meet your milk-covered nipple again, stimulating it by rubbing and pinching it. more essence and mewls poured out of you, walls compressing and pulsating frenetically around his cock as they swallowed the entire length almost sinfully. you were crying on his dick in less than a minute.

he chuckled, admiring the view. “what a shameless wife i have.”

| masterlist

[slasher-fxcker]

Slashers S/O falling asleep on them

A/N: Just a quick little drabble of me fantasizing about our favourite slashers. I am still working through requests so please don't think I am ignoring you guys! They are coming :)

Billy Loomis

· Billy isn’t sure how to react at first, if you are around people sorry but he’s not going to tarnish his reputation with these soft moments. But if you're alone he will be conflicted.

· He’s not used to soft moments and he likes to be in control of any affection. He tries to keep it light like hand holding or sexual to try and keep you at a distance. So, this makes him sort of short circuit.

· Once he decides to allow it, it takes him a while but he does eventually relax into the embrace. He hates to admit that it is comforting, you make him feel secure and that worries him.

· He probably won’t sit for too long and may move eventually, he won’t disturb you but will leave you on the couch to rest.

Bo Sinclair

· Bo will never ever admit to this but he loves your soft affection, even if it’s only when you're asleep that he embraces it. He will pull you closer to him and wrap his arm around you. It’s the time he will let his guard down and let himself truly feel.

· If his brothers walk in he’s going to act like it’s a hassle, but even they know he doesn’t really mean it. Will also probably whine at you about it later.

· Bo loves you but he won’t admit that yet, even if you question it sometimes just know that you don’t get to see the way he looks at you like you're his world, or how your cute sleepy expression grips his heart. It’s these times where he thinks maybe he should be nicer to you, it’s now when he realises that he needs you even if he’s not ready to admit that.

Jason Voorhees

· Jason will not move a muscle if you fall asleep on him, you may as well be leaning on a comfier version of a statue. He wouldn’t do anything to wake you up.

· Barely breathes in fear or disturbing you. This man adores you and if you need sleep you're going to get it.

· If there are any trespassers he is going to be even more brutal than usual, how dare they disturb this intimate moment with his loved one. He lays you down as gently as he can, lucky you're a heavy sleeper.

· Jason will make quick work of the trespassers so he can get back to you, sure you may wake up with some leftover blood on you but it’s all worth it in the end to be in Jason’s arms.

Jesse Cromeans

· Jesse gets a small smirk on his face when he realises you’ve fallen asleep in his lap while he’s completing some paperwork. He will hold you while he works, occasionally stroking your hair and placing his chin on your head.

· You seem so small buried into his chest, it reminds Jesse how delicate you are and how protective he is of you to keep you here with him.

· Jesse is a busy man so its highly likely that he will end up having some sort of work that pulls him away from this intimate moment. He will carry you with ease to your bed and cover you in blankets to keep you warm until he can return.

· Won’t leave without placing the gentlest of kisses to your forehead and watching you snuggle in.

Lester Sinclair

· Lester is a busy man, he loves your affections but try to catch him when it won’t interfere with his day or piss Bo off. He will put your affections first and that can often get him in trouble with his brother.

· This man is the cutest cuddle bug, he will hold you for as long as you want. Will wrap you up in his arms and put a movie on, he is definitely the most chill out of the slashers when it comes to this kind of affection.

· Expect him to occasionally cover your face in soft kisses, the small smile it puts on your face gives him the cheesiest grin. Part of him wants you to hurry up and wake up so he can give you more affection, but don’t worry he wouldn’t dream of waking you.

· Lester cherishes you and when you wake up still in his arms expect to give him all of your attention for a while.

Michael Myers

· Do you like sleeping on the floor? Because that’s where you will end up if you fall asleep on Michael when he’s not in a very good mood. He’s an asshole. He does love you, but you don’t get to be affectionate without his approval when he’s in this kind of mood.

· If you catch him on a good day he will simply let you rest against him, most likely sitting still and watching you sleep.

· He thinks you're naïve to trust him when you're in such a vulnerable state, how he could hurt you at any moment. He likes to pretend that he could but you both know he would never do anything to hurt you. Not now that he had let you in.

· If you wake up to his head resting against yours as you both find comfort in the slight affection he will jump up and storm off as soon as he notices you're awake. Don’t bring it up unless you want him to pout for a while or threateningly glare at you from across the room. He will pretend it never happened.

Stu Macher

· Stu had always been a night owl, and it didn’t help he spent a lot of his nights out with Billy.

· You would wait up for him a lot at his place, flicking through the channels of the tv and waiting for that familiar click of the front door. He would instantly come and join you, arms open and waiting. He always missed touching and holding you.

· Would probably ramble on and not realise you were sleeping until he notices you aren’t answering him anymore. The cheesy smile this boy gets when he realises you're asleep.

· He will probably just watch you for a while, moving the hair out of your face.

· Stu is the type of guy to draw on people’s faces while they sleep, but with you he will just gently trace your features or draw small love hearts with his finger, laughing quietly to himself as your nose crinkles at the feeling.

· He wouldn’t move you, he loves holding you in his arms, keeping you close to him. Will for sure tease you about it later though.

Thomas Hewitt

· Thomas just melts when he feels your head rest against him. He knows how tiring it can be working in the heat, so he will let you rest for as long as you need to.

· He will blush if anyone else sees the two of you, but he’s still not moving.

· Thomas could hold you like this forever, but he worries that the couch isn’t the comfiest place to spend the night so he will carry you upstairs to your room, this man just wants what is best for you. He tries his best to be as gentle as possible when he lays you down, not wanting to wake you.

· He stands up to leave but notices you clinging to his shirt, the crinkle in your brow showing you're clearly not happy with the loss of contact. He lets out a husky huff before climbing into bed next to you, he melts under your touch and the thought that even in your sleep you need his touch.

Vincent Sinclair

· He stills immediately when he feels the contact. Vincent loves you so much but he’s not sure he will ever get used to the physical affections.

· When he realises you’ve fallen asleep on him his heart swells. You better believe this boy will not move an inch, your comfort is his entire priority. He will be dead still until you wake up, would not dream of disturbing you.

· Will definitely watch you sleep, he feels like he needs to commit every single line of your face to memory. Not only will he want to sketch you later on but the fear of you leaving still weighs heavily on him and he needs to make sure he would remember every detail of you.

· It’s like you can feel him staring when you shuffle closer to him and mumble his name, he instantly melts. He pulls you closer, reassuring you that he’s still there. He’s not going anywhere, he will always be there.

[plutotheplum]

ꪆৎ QIN CHE | SYLUS

beating hearts - smut, fluff (4.1k) ↳ following the aftermath of his match, sylus shows you how much he adores you.

close to you - smut, fluff, fwb 2 lovers (4.9k) ↳ a sleepy morning with sylus results in unravelled feelings.

his eyes all over me - smut, fluff (6.1k) ↳ ever since experiencing sylus' frenzy, you find yourself feeling strange. it all comes to a head after your movie date.

red tape - smut, mma!sylus (8.8k) ↳ the man you're in charge of is somewhat of a handful (...and a mouthful).

sweet summer breeze - smut (5k) ↳ date night with sylus gets out of hand.

winter's kiss - fluff (2.7k) ↳ luke and kieran rope you into spending christmas at the n109 zone (and kissing their boss).

stardust (series)

resonance | part one - smut, fluff (4.5k) ↳ with the aether core's auction quickly approaching, you're growing desperate to resonate with sylus. fortunately for you, he has a suggestion... even if it is less conventional.

a lust for love | part two - smut, fluff (5.7k) ↳ ever since you've left the N109 zone, you find yourself missing a certain white-haired man.

you'll warm the night (series - ongoing)

i only bleed for him | chapter one - smut, angst, beyond cloudfall myth (4.5k) ↳ admist the blooming flowers in tarus city, the dragon claims his beloved.

headcanons/drabbles

ex-husband!sylus

cockwarming with sylus (nsfw)

mma!sylus (nsfw)

ꪆৎ LI SHEN | ZAYNE

blush wine - smut, fluff (5.5k) ↳ a pressing personal issue has you turning to zayne in desperation. he is a doctor, after all.

in every life - mild smut, fluff (1.3k) ↳ zayne wants to spend the morning of his birthday with you.

take a chance with me - smut, fluff (4.4k) ↳ zayne gets called into work, so you bring him dinner.

the emperor's affection (series) - historical au

the first fall of snow | part one - smut (7.7k) ↳ the emperor isn't interested in his concubines, but an encounter with you is enough to change his mind.

keep my hand in yours | part two - smut, fluff (6.9k) ↳ the emperor is intent on convincing you that you are worthy enough to be his empress.

headcanons/drabbles

giving zayne head under the desk (nsfw)

zayne in scrubs (nsfw)

ꪆৎ XIA YIZHOU | CALEB

i'm your man - smut, fluff (5.8k) ↳ riling up your boyfriend is entirely too easy. when he finds out you have a tutor that happens to be a man... well, it's safe to say caleb hates that sort of thing.

headcanons/drabbles

caleb and his dog tags (nsfw)

[fawnnlvr]

model | spencer reid

pairing: spencer reid x model!reader

masterlist

author's note: small small 1k words drabble that has been on my mind for a long time and i feel like it should he shared with the world. inspired by the middle photo because it genuinely haunts me in my dreams in a good way.

"Come on pretty boy, smile for me." you softly spoke as you stared down at your boyfriend, a camera right beside your face as your finger hovered over the top button.

Spencer's hands rested on your hips as they steadied your stance. He sat on the couch as you straddled him, legs on either side of his body, locking him in place.

He would be lying if he said it was a wonder how he got in that position, but due to his memory, he remembered it clearly. His curious nature of needing to know everything had gotten him in that position, forcefully might he add.

Being the partner of a model, he should have expected that you would own a variety of cameras to capture your beauty. He innocently picked one up and started to snap a few candid photos as you and him went on a book date. The two of you messed around with the camera, snapping photos of each other in silly poses. One thing had led to another and Spencer found himself under your powerful, sultry gaze.

"You can't force me to model for you." he laughed, thinking this entire idea of you photographing him like he was a model to be absurd.

"You, my pretty boy, are a model in my eyes and I want to capture you with my lens."

"This was supposed to be your photoshoot." this entire thing began simply because he liked taking photos of you— to preserve all the moments he had with you. He isn't the type have his photos taken and he was fine with that idea because in his eyes, you are the star— his star.

"I'm a model. I've had many photoshoots in my lifetime so now its time for the student to become the master."

"That isn't how the saying goes nor is this the right context—" he was silenced by your manicured finger finding its way to his lips, successfully shutting it.

You moved the camera from your face to look at him, "Come on. No one will see these photos, but us." he still looked a little reluctant so you sighed and moved closer, your lips to his ear, "We can take a little more private photos if you want to later. A little boudoir—"

His breathing became uneven as you felt him swallow. His grip became slightly more stronger on his hips as he stared up at you, the pupils of his eyes increasing.

"Just for you." you used a free hand to caress his jaw. Just for him. Only for his eyes to see.

"S-so, what's the theme for this photoshoot?"

"A handsome man who loves his girlfriend?" you tilted your head as you suggested a theme that barely needed any acting and just his face.

"Very doable."

"Great. This camera is a sort of one and done so we need to be very selective on the positions." your hand stayed on his jaw, a thumb to his cheek as you tilted his head to be in the perfect position for the camera to catch him from above.

Spencer leaned into your warm touch, "I feel nervous looking into the camera."

"Look at me then," he stared at you through his eyelashes as he leaned his head into the palm of your hand, "there we go."

He looked like a lovesick puppy from that position. Staring up at you from behind the camera with these cloudy dazed eyes. Looking at you as if you were his world and he couldn't believe you were his and he was yours.

Snap!

The polaroid made noise as the mechanical engineering inside of it had colorized and printed the photo. A few seconds later and the photo was already rising from the top.

Spencer raised his hand and placed it on top of yours that rested on his face. Using his free hand, he grabbed the photo from the camera and placed it off to the side to complete.

"That will be mine. We can take two." you told him, already cheesing at the sight in front of you as well as unsure how you would be able to handle your hot boyfriend in this position forever preserved in a photo.

"Same position?" Spencer asked as the camera was already in place to snap another photo.

"You have more artistic direction. Whatever suits your boat."

"It's float your boat, but I do have a small idea." He used a hand to guide yours from the higher side of his face to the lower. Your thumb slid from his cheek to his soft lips, tracing the small traces of your lipgloss. His lips slightly parted and his hand that was one yours had let go before it found its place on your waist.

Your felt your thumb slowly go further in and Spencer kept eye contact as he brought his lips into a circle to slowly suck the tip of your thumb. Tilting his head just slightly up, you swore you saw an angel.

An unsteady breath escaped your mouth as you felt your stomach tense, "I feel like I should pray to the heavens for blessing me with this sight."

Spencer tried to suppress his smile for the sake of the photo, but it was obvious in the ways his eyes crinkled and the way he was staring into the camera lens as if he was staring into your soul.

You hurried to snap the photo, afraid that a moment like this could slip away and you wouldn't be able to remember the full details or relive it to its fullest. As soon as the camera finished capturing the scene, you gently placed it down on the table beside the ends of your couch before pulling Spencer in for a kiss.

Hands in his hair, softly tugging it and pulling him closer, letting your lipstick paint his lips, nose, cheeks and all over his face.

It was going to be a long night.

[kitysugar]

in sickness and in health ~ sim jaeyun x reader

౨ৎ inspiried by this request ! ♡  .⋆。⊹ ଓ ⋆˙⊹ [ 제이크 ] ☆ in which your lovely husband decides to take care of you when you are sick, in more ways than just one

word count ; 1.8k

softdom! jake x sick! reader drabble. sleepy fingering , Jake is so so sweet gag me w a fork , established marriage , praise , begging , hickeys / markings , begging , slight daddy kink , more .

as you hear the front door open and close, you begin to stir into consciousness after being in and out of sleep for the past few hours. your nose is clogged as your throat feels raw and sore, your head feels like a hollow balloon and your entire body aches. you had found the strength to get up out of bed and change into warmer clothes - settling on one of jake’s larger hoodies simply because it had the familiar scent of his cologne lingering on the fabric, and a pair of sweat pants that were two sizes too big.

you had fallen asleep on his side of the bed, missing the familiar warmth of his body that brought you indescribable comfort every night. your eyes flutter open, instantly finding the faint figure of a silhouette lingering in the door way. your arms reach out on instinct, jake’s figure slowly coming into view as he begins to take his suits jacket off - hanging it on a hanger before putting it back up in his closet. you smile at your husband , a soft pout prominent on your lips. jake chuckles at you before he puts his hand on your forehead, checking to see how hot you were.

“are you feeling any better baby?” you shake your head no with a shrug of your shoulders, a stinging sensation forming in the back of your nose. jake inwardly smiles at you, his eyes watching your face contort into squinted eyes and lips slightly ajar - the face you normally make when you try to force a sneeze out.

after you sneeze a few times, he kisses the top of your forehead longingly before peeling away from you

“i’m sorry sweetheart, do you need anything?” your husband asks you as he begins to unbutton his collared button up shirt, the sight of his forearms exposed making you feel all sorts of things after being left alone all day confined to your bed. you sit up slightly, your eyes gawking at him as he begins to strip himself of his clothes.

“i dunno, maybe now that you’re home ..” you say quietly, but jake hears you as clear as day. he spins around, the first half of his shirt undone and his nice black dress pants unbuttoned and zipped all the way down. your face heats up at his disheveled appearance, drinking in the delicious sight. Jake can tell by the look on your face that you want one thing and one thing only; knowing you like the back of his own hand. jake chuckles at you before sitting down at the foot of the bed, his hand coming up to rub comforting circles on your calf.

“baby, you’re sick. we can’t” he pouts , tilting his head to the side as he speaks. you huff and cross your arms over your chest, turning your head in order to look away from him. you sniff your nose, finding it difficult to breathe in.

“oh honey, don’t be a brat. i’m going to go heat you up some soup and i’ll be back. after that i’ll run you a bath and we can sit together okay?” your lips remain in a pout, still not turning your head to look over at him. jake sighs at your lack of response, his hand still rubbing gentle circles on your calf through the warm blanket.

“baby, i need you to answer me” you huff again, finally deciding on turning your head to face him fully. you look down at your lap, your fingers fidgeting with one another as you remain pouty-faced. you’ve been left alone all day with your thoughts being your only source of company. every time you got on your phone; your head would start to hurt.

throughout the entire day, your mind was filled with jake and jake alone; how well he takes care of you in so many more ways than just one. how he goes to work in order to fuel your shopping addiction, how he makes you your favorite dishes and runs to the store to get you medicine when you’re sick- and especially when he’s buried between your thighs, his fingers reaching so deeply inside you, jake’s name dripping from your tongue.

you were too tired to touch yourself, and fuck the way jake’s hand lightly gripped your jaw in order to tilt your head up this morning to give you a good-bye kiss was the cherry on top.

your face flushes a deep shade of red as you look up at your husband through your eyelashes, a sigh escaping your mouth. jake tilts his eyebrows up at you, amusement flowing through his veins.

“been thinking about you all day… and you come home looking like this, it makes me feel.. i don’t know. crazy…” jake smirks at your words, his free hand coming to rest on the bed behind him as he leans backwards, his eyes racking down your figure.

“what have you been thinking about love?” you whine in frustration, not wanting to elaborate. you kick his thigh that rests next to your foot jokingly, flustered out of your mind.

“uhm… how well you take care of me, all the time. ‘nd how bad i’ve been needing you…” you speak honestly. the two of you haven’t done anything recently because of your fever and sickness, jake being caught up in the worry of hurting you . jake smiles fondly at you, his heart swelling in adoration and pride. he knows your words are the truth; everything he does- he does it for you. he’s your biggest supporter in everything you accomplish, and he would take care of you always.

"yeah? how do you need me pretty?" he asks, leaning down to crawl over your smaller frame - making you sink further into the mattress below you in silence. jake takes your lack of response with a small smirk that spreads slyly across his face, one of his hands coming to trail its way up your thigh in order to find its way under the blanket.

"where do you need me baby?" he asks once more, your breathing coming out in ragged, shallow breaths. your eyes look up into his, pleading with parted lips.

"here?" he asks, his fingers coming in contact with your clothed heat making a whimper drip off your full lips. you hum in response, your head slowly nodding up and down.

"yes please.." you say under your breath quietly. your pussy pulsates at the contact. jake smiles down at you, pressing his forehead against yours. he begins to massage slow, concentrated circles through your sweats, making your yes fall closed. after a moment of agonizing teasing, he pushes his hand under your sweats, making your stomach flip in nervousness.

"please.." another plea sounds from just under him. jake's hand makes its way down to your panties before pulling them to the side in order to snake his cool fingers through the folds of your wet pussy. your back arches off the mattress slightly in anticipation. neediness slips into your veins like a drug, making jake lowly chuckle.

"such a needy girl, aren't you?" he teases, making you pout. jake focuses his attention to your desperate clit, rubbing focused circles gently on your bundle of nerves that has you moaning out his name. your hands snake up to the square of his shoulders, grabbing onto him in order to ground your mind from slipping away from your body.

you can hear your own wetness as he plays with your swollen pussy, the disgusting sounds were like heaven to jakes ears that he could never, ever get enough of.

jake opts in sliding one of his long fingers into your walls, sliding in with ease thanks to the slick you had provided all for him, because of him. your nails scratch at his back, a tired whimper leaving the back of your throat. his fingers work their magic inside your tight, velvety walls, fingertips softly grazing the sweet spot deep inside you.

your body shakes in his hold, making jake kiss your temple. he trails his kisses down the side of your face - resting on the skin of your neck to leave faint, purple marks. you squirm underneath him as another one of his fingers enters your pussy, fingering you from the inside out.

"my girl just wants to be taken care of huh? wants me to help her in every way possible?" you nod your head, a soft 'yes' incoherently leaves your mouth.

"gonna take such good care of my little angel, make her feel so, so good" and thats exactly what he does - fingering your needy pussy so well that when you close your eyes - you're sent seeing stars on the undersides of your lids. jake has that effect on you - knowing your body better than you possibly could. every inch of you engraved into his mind like an open book he just couldn't seem to forget.

"feels so good, i love you s' much" jake's heart feels like its going to explode, his chest tightening at your words.

"i love you sweet thing" he responds, speaking into your skin while his fingers working faster at splitting you apart. your pussy squeezes his fingers delicately, your desperate cries of his name come to a sweet crescendo.

your body curls into jakes front as he detaches from your neck, letting you bury your face into his chest. everything feels overstimulating and warm, making your mind cloud over with lust.

a warm feeling begins to spread throughout your lower abdomen, your hips bucking up into jakes palm in order to chase after the sensation.

"you close angel?" you frantically nod your head, legs shaking and spreading apart further to grant your husband more access to your body.

"yes,,, yes please... wan' cum please... please let me cum" your begging makes jake feel some sort of power, fueling him into his next choice of words.

"i dunno, have you been a good girl recently?" your eyes fly open, the fear of jake denying you permission to cum makes you pout immensely.

"yes.. been such a good girl f' you" your voice is whiny and desperate, making jake mimic the pout plastered on your face. he ponders for a moment before smiling at you fondly.

"yes you have. been such a patient girl for me recently. don't worry baby, daddys gonna make it all better" his fingers reach a deeper spot inside you, making your toes curl and your back inch further off the bed and right into the palm of your husbands mind.

"cum for me baby" is all he says before your pussy clenches down on his digits that work diligently within your gummy walls, your juices squirting out to signal the snap of your release.

"good girl, let me take good care of you" he whispers into your ear, his movements coming to a slow halt. your body collapses back onto the bed, chest heaving up and down in search of much needed air. jake pulls his fingers out of you with a hiss.

"i love you baby, in sickness and in health" he smiles fondly before kissing the skin of your sweaty forehead.

"i love you more"

[sevarchive]

bllk drabbles! #9

blue lock characters! giving you a headlock.

starring: barou shoei, michael kaiser, oliver aiku, nagi seishiro, itoshi sae, and shidou ryusei

warning: contains suggestive content, including casual physical dominance, cursing, light choking (headlock).

a/n: i made this cus i saw that one page in pinterest of barou putting aryu in a headlock lol

BAROU SHOEI wipes sweat from his neck with a towel, muscles flexing like they’re sculpted out of granite, shoulders broad, arms cut, veins popping like they have their own agenda. he’s not even trying to be hot. he just is.

you’re sipping your drink when your brain shorts out and your mouth betrays you.

“…i wanna know what it feels like to be in a headlock.”

he freezes. slowly, very slowly, he turns to you.

“…what the hell did you just say?”

“i—i didn’t mean—forget it,” you stammer, already halfway to the door.

but it’s too late.

he stomps over, grabs you, and yanks you under one heavy, sweat-warmed arm like he’s pissed—but also slightly amused. his bicep flexes into your cheek, hot and solid and utterly unholy.

“you mean this?” he growls.

you squeak. he raises a brow.

“you’re into this?” he mutters, voice low, almost disgusted. “you freak.”

he flexes harder just to hear the pathetic noise you make, and smirks.

after a beat of silence, he mutters:

“tch. you’ve been reading too much of that manhwa crap again, haven’t you?”

you don’t even deny it.

because… he’s not wrong.

MICHAEL KAISER doesn’t need a mirror to know he looks good. but your staring? that’s still satisfying.

you don’t even realize how long you’ve been watching him: shirt half-off, golden hair damp, muscles flexing with every effortless stretch, until he catches you.

“you're drooling, mein liebling.”

the nickname slides from his mouth like silk, thick with mockery and heat. you scoff, try to look away, but he’s already crossing the room, deliberate and slow, eating up the space between you like a lion who knows the prey won’t run.

“wanna say that again?” he purrs. “something about my arms being too much for you?”

you open your mouth, but he’s faster, one arm hooks around your neck, dragging you into his chest. his bicep flexes against your throat, warm and unyielding. you gasp, fingers instinctively grabbing at his forearm, but not to push away.

“oh, you like this,” he chuckles darkly, lips brushing your temple. “you little masochist.”

your legs tremble. his hold tightens.

“you want me to choke you out, baby?” he breathes, voice low, cruel, hot against your skin. “make you see stars with just one arm?”

you whimper. that’s all he needs.

kaiser hums in your ear, smug and pleased.

“i should’ve done this sooner.”

and he still doesn’t let go. not until you beg.

OLIVER AIKU hears it even though you say it as a joke. sort of.

"bet you give killer headlocks," you mumble, barely loud enough to hear yourself, but aiku hears it.

he turns to you with a look that could melt steel. "you what?"

"nothing," you lie. terribly. "forget i said anything."

too late. the smirk blooming on his lips is dangerous, like he just found your pressure point and fully intends to press down. he moves behind you before you can escape, arm slinging around your neck like a noose. your back hits his chest. his forearm curls under your jaw, bicep brushing your cheek with too much heat.

“like this?” he murmurs, voice all velvet and venom. “you wanted to feel how strong i am?”

you exhale shakily. his bicep tightens slightly, just enough to feel, not enough to hurt. his heartbeat’s steady against your spine.

“you’re not tapping out,” he adds, teeth grazing your ear. “so i’m guessing this is the part you like.”

you nod, dumbly, breath caught somewhere between your ribs and sin.

“i knew you were a freak,” he laughs, amused. “but hey—at least you’ve got taste.”

then he squeezes once—slow, deliberate—and you forget your own damn name.

NAGI SEISHIRO should’ve been asleep by now. you definitely should’ve known better than to say anything while he was half-gone, curled under a blanket, hair messy, eyes only half-open.

it slips out when you're both lying around after a long day, barely above a whisper. “i wonder what it’d feel like if you put me in a headlock…”

you think he didn’t hear.

but then:

“…you’re so weird,” he mutters, voice rough with sleep.

you turn your head, and he’s already shifting, arm dragging over your neck as he lazily pulls you into his chest. it’s not aggressive. just heavy. unbothered. natural.

and his bicep? warm. dense. way too firm for someone who complains about moving.

your face presses into it, and your stomach flips.

“mm. like this?” he mumbles, breath brushing your cheek.

you can’t breathe. not really. not because of the hold, but because of how casual he is about it. his grip tightens just enough to make you whimper.

“you’re into this,” you accuse, half-muffled.

“not really,” he says, yawn in his throat. “but you sounded thirsty.”

you sputter.

his chin drops onto your head. “you started it, y’know.”

his thumb rubs slow circles into your collarbone.

“i could stay like this.”

you’re already melting into him when he adds, deadpan:

“…better than my body pillow anyway.”

ITOSHI SAE doesn’t even bother looking at you when he calls you out.

“you’ve been eyeing my arms for the past twenty minutes,” sae says flatly, not even looking at you—just scrolling through his phone like your thirst is beneath his notice.

you scoff. “so what?”

he finally turns to you, expression unreadable, and you instantly regret everything.

“say it,” he murmurs, standing. “whatever twisted little thing you’re imagining.”

you don’t expect him to actually entertain it, but your mouth betrays you.

“…headlock me.”

sae blinks. then, with infuriating calm, he strolls over and drapes his arm around your neck. not rough. not gentle. just precise. controlled. you stiffen as your face meets solid muscle and his fingers brush your collarbone to hold you still.

his bicep tightens, excruciatingly slow, like he’s savoring it.

“you’re pathetic,” he whispers, lips right by your ear. “begging for scraps of attention like this.”

you exhale, shaky. “you’re still doing it.”

“because i want to see how far you’ll go.” he squeezes—just enough—and your knees almost give out.

“and?” you breathe.

sae leans in, teeth grazing your jaw. “you’re worse than i thought.”

he lets go like he’s bored.

but he doesn't walk away.

he just waits, staring.

“go on,” he says. “ask me again.”

SHIDOU RYUSEI laughs like you just handed him his favorite toy.

“you’ve got issues,” shidou purrs, pinning you to the couch with one thigh and a crooked grin. “who asks to be put in a headlock?”

you’re already breathless. he hasn’t even done it yet.

“i was joking,” you lie.

“nah,” he chuckles darkly. “you meant it.”

before you can protest, he’s behind you, arm snaked around your neck, flexing his bicep with brutal ease. it’s not tight—yet—but the pressure is deliberate. dangerous. you inhale sharply, cheek squished against skin that’s solid as hell and twice as hot.

“you like being manhandled, huh?” he growls into your ear, grin widening when he feels you squirm. “tch. you’re a sick little thing.”

his other hand rests on your waist—possessive, greedy—and then he squeezes, just a bit too hard.

you gasp. he laughs. loudly.

“holy sh*t, you’re really into this.”

you try to elbow him, but he dodges, lips brushing your jaw.

“should i choke you out for real?” he whispers. “or just keep you on the edge?”

your brain short-circuits. he lives for this.

“you’re insane,” you whisper.

shidou licks his teeth. “and you’re the one who asked for it. who’s worse?”

spoiler: it’s both of you.

and you love it.

જ⁀➴ © sevarchive ✦ masterlist like/reblogs are appreciated ꣑ৎ

[moonstruckme]

hello, my love! i cometh to the with a poly!marauders request.

i haven’t fleshed it out in my head, but could you write something revolving around them talking about r while she’s “asleep”? the way it came was in the sh drabble, reader falls asleep on james after the tough convo. i thought of a nice follow-up where the lads talk about ways to support them while they think she’s asleep and she feels so safe and supported and it’s just fluffy and cute.

it doesn’t have to be around sh or anything like that! just something fluffy and cute where they talk about her when they think she’s fallen asleep on one of the lads. it could be about past trauma they want to support her with, a trigger and them discussing how to go about helping, etc. - anything you fancy at all. i could use some soft fluff ❤️

Thanks for requesting lovely <3

poly!maraudes x fem!reader ♡ 796 words

Sirius’ thumb is sweeping a slow back-and-forth over the baby hairs at your temple. You can feel his chest rising and falling beneath your head, hear his heart inside it, smell the heady spice of his cologne. You’re sleepy enough that those things fuzz together, melt into the gooey softness of dozing. 

James and Remus are tidying in the kitchen. You’ve been distantly aware of their low, continual sounds, but you don’t register the change until Remus’ footsteps near the couch where you and Sirius are lying, the floor creaking beneath his feet. 

“Do either of you—oh.” His voice drops to a hush when Sirius shushes him. “Is she asleep?” 

You have the notion to make some small sound, but your mind is sluggish. When Sirius murmurs, “yeah,” before you can, you decide to let it go. 

Remus makes a soft tsking sound. You feel the couch bend near your feet. “Should we wake her? She might not sleep well tonight if she does now.” 

“I don’t care when she sleeps.” Sirius’ thumb keeps stroking at your temple, his voice as soft as you’ve ever heard it. You think that you may never get past the oddity of being held by him like this. When you first met Sirius, any tenderness had to be disguised as flirting. In a moment like this he would have woken you with sweet, tickling kisses mushed into your neck, growling about how you were too cute to let sleep before making some joke about how if you want to get me into the bedroom, gorgeous, there are quicker ways. And it was all in good fun, you’d enjoyed it and known the real sentiments that lay beneath all his levity. But over time that showy, over-the-top amorousness has morphed into a more sincere sort of fondness, and you like this version of Sirius even more. “Only that she does,” he finishes. “She hasn’t been getting much of it lately.” 

“No,” Remus hums. “I’ve noticed.” 

There are a few moments of soft, blanketing silence between them. You start to drift off again, but then another pair of footsteps comes. 

Remus must make some silent signal, because James whispers, “She’s sleeping?” 

Two hums. 

“It’s not like her to sleep during the day.” 

“We don’t think she’s been getting much of it during the night, either,” sighs Remus. 

James makes a low cooing sound. The throw piled by your feet finds its way up to your shoulders. 

“James.” Remus’ voice is stern. 

“What?” 

“Don’t touch her face,” says Sirius. 

“Sorry,” James laughs softly. “She just looks so cute.” 

“Well, try to restrain yourself.” 

“Okay, okay.” But a pair of lips touches down ever so softly on your forehead, and you hear Sirius’ amused chuff. “Why do you think it is that she’s not been sleeping?” James asks. 

Remus hums. “M’not sure. I think she may just be a bit overwrought.” 

Your chest aches at the caring in his tone. Sirius’ free arm bands across your shoulders, a protective, solid weight. 

“She’ll be alright,” he murmurs. “She just needs a little extra help at the moment, is all.” 

“Maybe we could bake something tonight,” says James. “She always likes that.” 

Remus’ voice is warm with affection. “That’s sweet, Jamie. Maybe something simple, so she can just relax.” 

“Like decorating cookies?” 

“Do we have the stuff for that?” Sirius wonders. 

James scoffs, and you feel Sirius’ chin bump your head as though a forceful kiss has been pressed upon the top of his. “As if you’d have any idea what’s in our pantry. Cute.” 

A smile tugs at your lips. You shift slightly to hide it, turning your face further into Sirius’ chest. All three boys go quiet. 

Sirius rubs your shoulder gently. “It’s okay, baby,” he murmurs, lips to your hair. “Go back to sleep.” Your boyfriends stay silent as you settle, and for a cautious while after that. 

“She’s so precious,” Remus whispers, almost too softly for anyone to hear. 

James makes a quiet sound of agreement. “I hate when she’s upset.” 

“I don’t think she’s very upset,” Remus muses. “Or if she is, she might not know herself. It’s all just a bit much right now, I think.” 

“She’ll be okay,” Sirius says again. His hand is moving over your shoulder still. You think he might do it for hours if it kept you from waking, he loves you that much. Your heart feels too big for your chest. “We’ll take care of her. Cookies, right?” 

“It’s a start,” Remus agrees. 

“James, I swear to god, if you wake her I will fill your shoes with dog shit.” 

“I won’t,” James swears. “Relax.” He presses his lips to the tip of your nose, and both the other boys sigh.