#Sirius black x reader

[thatboisus]

reading a good ass fanfic up until it said something that just makes you want to stop reading

[luveline]

hi hii jade! Was wondering if you could do something sweet and fluffy w poly!marauders where reader wakes up in a very cozy and giggly mood 🤭 just some warm domestic love hehe

thank you for requesting! fem, 1k

Someone is kissing his waist. Sirius squirms in his dozing, not expecting it as those kisses travel up his naked chest. Your laugh is breathy and soft as you kiss his shoulder, your weight strewn across his side and arm, your hand finding his cheek. 

Your fingers feel inhuman in the best way, like an angel. They spread across his face and neck as you hold him in place and kiss the skin where his neck meets his shoulder. “I love you…” you whisper, the ‘you’ turning long and slow like honey slipping down his front. “I wish you didn’t sleep so much.” 

You kiss him again, and with that you’re out of bed. Out of the room before Sirius has time to gather his wits, but he does gather them, because he needs more of whatever that was. 

What sort of sweetheart kisses somebody with such gentleness thinking they won’t remember? To press affection into him with want of nothing in return. He doesn’t even bother getting dressed, just scrubs at his sleep-swollen face and fishes the crusties from his eyes as he descends the stairs, numb-legged. 

James is grabbing you by the hips, helping you up onto the counter. His curls bounce at the back of his neck. “What’s gotten into you?” he asks. 

“Love, for sure.” 

“I can see that. Eggs? Omelette?” 

“Jamie, you can make anything. Actually, let me make you something–”

James pushes you further onto the top. “That’s okay, I’m cooking. I want to cook.” 

Sirius isn’t insecure, exactly. He feels he’s quite handsome when he attempts to be, and he knows you like him whether he’s trying or not, but he doesn’t know if you want to be interrupted, either of you, and it’s his private agony to wonder what to do. Then you spot him over James’ shoulder and your eyes practically sparkle. 

“Siri…” you sing-song, melodic as he crosses the kitchen linoleum to be with you and James. “Did I wake you? I’m sorry.” 

Sirius touches James’ elbow with love but swoops in on you. “Did you wake me?” he asks, kissing your cheek, his arms working behind you to hold you as his lips travel downward. He isn’t half as sweet as you were, too busy trying to squeeze your torso against his and mould you into a perfect fit against him and under his arm to really think about what he’s doing. 

“She did it to me, too.” 

Sirius pulls your face into his neck and turns to James with a grin. “And Remus?” 

“He was already awake. But she kissed him and did that thing where her eyes somehow look bigger and shiny and he had to go for a walk.” 

“He didn’t have to go for a walk,” you mumble from Sirius’ neck. “He always walks on Saturday mornings. He’s just getting some herbs from the greenhouse.” 

The back door opens on cue. Remus reappears with an aura about him much like yours, dropping the cut herbs on the cutting board, and stopping just shy of everyone to smile. “Did she do it to you, as well?” he asks. 

James squeezes Remus’ face in his hand, a quick thank you for the herbs that has the latter turning pink. 

“She waylaid me with kisses like a common whore.” 

“Sirius,” James says scornfully. 

“Me being the whore,” Sirius says. You laugh into his neck, seemingly with no inclination to leave the circle of his arms. “Will I ever see your face again?” he asks. 

“It’s cozy here. I wish we’d stayed in bed.” 

“We can go back.” 

“After breakfast,” James says, popping an egg on the edge of the frying pan, breaking the shell one handed as he gives the sizzling oil a shake. 

Remus not so subtly crosses the last of the space to slot himself between your right thigh and the counter. Sirius has the urge to cup his cheek as James had done —Remus has an extremely holdable face— but is distracted by your nose nuzzling the line of his throat. 

“I love you,” you say. 

Doesn’t matter who you’re talking to. All three boys melt. 

“I’d like to do some really weird things to you,” Sirius says. 

“Me too,” James agrees. “But we do need breakfast first.” 

“No one is doing anything weird to me, it’s the weekend.” You beam as Remus laughs, seemingly your intention. 

Sirius backs away to a polite but still close proximity. He isn’t selfish; being in a ‘strange’ relationship like this one is a lot of reading cues, and a lot of just plain old climbing into people's laps when you want them, because nobody can truly read minds. Yet Sirius can see that you’re in the sort of mood where everything you touch turns to gold and all the boys want a piece of you, and who is he to get in the way of that? 

Well, he’s your boyfriend. He takes a kiss before he delegates himself to being herb-chopper, stealing glances of you from the corner of his eye. 

You tease a strand of Remus’ hair behind his ear. 

“Weird stuff is for weekdays only,” you’re murmuring. “What I want today is the real romantic stuff.” 

“Then you can have it,” Remus murmurs back. 

Sirius will happily be doing very romantic things to both of you after his omelette. James, too, if he’s so inclined. 

[moonstruckme]

HI MAE!!! HAPPY 7k 🩷🩷

can i please do a blueberry muffin from your bake sale??? I always wanted a part two to your drabble for the emt!marauders with a reader who gets vertigo. I still for the comfort of how it'll be the car ride to the hospital with the boys comforting the reader just like int he first part. the drabble ended too soon 🫶🏻

nevertheless, you totally degree this milestone!!!

Thank you lovely!

part 1

cw: severe dizziness, mention of vomiting

emt!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 497 words

You’ve decided not to make any more sounds. Your moaning and groaning was only worrying the boys, and if you can’t control anything else you can control that. Still, as slow as Remus tries to make the next turn, you can’t help your soft intake of air. Your head keeps turning long after the car has straightened out. 

“I know,” Sirius murmurs in reply to your little gasp. His voice is weighed down with sympathy. 

You’ve figured out that the cold of his hands helps, so he keeps pressing them to your forehead, your temples, your neck. On your other side, James is doing his best to keep you from moving with his arm around your shoulders. You’re holding your neck ramrod straight for the same purpose. You can feel the stitching of the seats where your fingers are pressed harshly to them, though in your vision the car is only a smear of gray interior and a deep blue out the windows. You guess by the color that it must be early morning. 

“I’ve got a bag,” James reminds you. “Let me know if you think you need it, yeah?” 

Your answering hum is wobbly. Sirius moves his hands to your cheeks. 

“Are you feeling any better, sweetheart?” Remus asks. You can picture him looking into the rear view mirror, and you and then at the other boys. You wonder what faces they’re making in silent answer. “Can you see at all?” 

“A little bit,” you lie. 

Sirius makes a soft sound, low in his throat. He strokes his thumb over your cheekbone. “Don’t downplay it for us,” he chides, about ten degrees gentler than his usual admonishments. “We can’t help you as well if we don’t know how bad it is, baby.” 

You press your lips together, hard, clamping them between your teeth, but you’re sure your boyfriends can see the tears you’re holding back regardless. James kisses your hair. 

“It’s okay,” he says. “We can talk about all that when we get there, yeah? You’re alright.” 

A quiet whimper slips out of you, two tears blinking out of your eyes one after the other. 

“You are, angel.” James seems desperate to reassure you. Sirius’ hands move to press over your collarbones, firm and grounding. “You’re okay. We’re gonna make it better, my love.” 

“Once we’re there, we’ll try not to move you around hardly at all, dove, alright?” Remus chimes in. “We’ll get you settled and checked out, and the worst thing that can happen is you end up sitting still and waiting this out. No more driving or walking or anything like that until you’re feeling better.” 

“Okay,” you manage to squeak out in reply. 

“Oh, my sweetheart.” James sounds nearly on the brink of tears himself, and you think you feel Sirius reach across you to rub his leg even as they’re both comforting you. 

“I know.” Sirius kisses your temple. “I know, baby. We’ve got you.” 

That, you can believe in.

[pretty-little-mind33]

ＳＨＯＲＴ ＡＮＤ ＳＷＥＥＴ

ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ᴏɴᴇ

muggle au poly!marauders x fem!reader

Summary: You introduce yourself to the bookstore next door.

Warnings: none

"𝒪𝒽, 𝐼 𝓁𝑒𝒶𝓋𝑒 𝓆𝓊𝒾𝓉𝑒 𝒶𝓃 𝒾𝓂𝓅𝓇𝑒𝓈𝓈𝒾𝑜𝓃"

The air is chilly as you pull your jumper over your shoulders, balancing your silver tray in one hand. You blow some hair from your eyes and close on the door to your small cafe, the bell chiming after you. While technically you don't officially open until 10 am for brunch this morning, you had planned an assortment of mini-drinks and pastries to bring to the neighboring businesses so you could introduce yourself to them. 

Your first destination is the bookstore across the street. It's an old red-brick building, accompanied by a worn-out wooden door and a wooden sign where the name, "Moony's Library" is proudly displayed in chipped white paint. It looks homey and antique and when you walk over and can see that the small plaque on the door says closed. You knock anyway.

You receive no answer. 

Biting your lip, you hold your tray tighter against your sides, frowning as you raise your arm awkwardly to try again. Still no answer. You try the handle this time. You could have sworn you saw someone in the window. The door opens with a creak as you tentatively push on it and hesitantly, you step inside.

Just as you do, your shoe hits the slightly raised step of the entrance, bending your ankle awkwardly as you almost fall over. You gasp, catching yourself just in time as none of your drinks spilled or pastries fall. 

Thankful no one saw you—

"Clumsy, aren't you?" a voice drawls from the corner of the room and you jump, almost dropping the tray again. When you turn, you see a man sitting in an armchair in the corner, his left foot bound in a medical boot. His crutches lay against the side of the armchair.

The man is strikingly handsome, with his round glasses resting on his nose and his messy dark hair curls framed around his sharp hazel eyes. He isn't smiling, instead he is simply smirking like he knows something you don't know. 

"You scared me." Your voice sounds more intimidated than anticipated, and you walk towards the counter, placing the tray near some old books. You're careful not to ruin them as your cheeks burn warm. "I knocked," you point out, afraid he'll accuse you of being a trespasser. 

"I heard," the man says with a chuckle.

Your eyebrows scrunch and he reads your mind. 

"We're closed. Didn't want to stand and open the door when we are closed." The man shrugs and as handsome as he is, you don't like how he's practically making fun of you. His eyes land on the drinks and trays and his lips curl, his voice a little more lighthearted this time. He makes a guess. "You own Whisk and Whims Cafe?" 

You nod and walk over, holding one of your drink samples to him. "This is a Caramel Cappuccino. It's called Autumn Swirl," you say and then pause a moment. "My name is Y/n," you add quietly.

The man takes the drink and drinks it all in one go. He smiles and looks at you again. "Decent," he teases, wiping the foam from his lips. "Hint of cinnamon?"

You nod again as another voice interrupts you. "James. Be nice, will you?" The man, James, rolls his eyes at this and leans back in the armchair, adjusting his boot with a grunt. You look behind you at the newcomer and your heart leaps. It's another man, just as handsome as this one. He looks taller and lankier and he has deep scars adorning his skin, accompanied by faint freckles you can only see if you focus very hard. Which you are. His dusty dark-blond hair swooshes almost perfectly. He's breathtaking and you lose your train of thought. 

"Hi, I'm Remus," the man comes up and holds out his hand, "Ignore my friend here, he can be grumpy in the morning."

You nod, looking at Remus and then James.

"Shut up, Moony."

"Moony," you whisper, referring to the bookstore's name. You look at Remus directly and smile. "You're the owner."

Remus chuckles and hums, strolling behind the counter. He looks around the old-fashioned bookstore; the books are arranged on tall bookshelves all around, wooden ladders accompanying the slightly dusty shelves. The ceiling is painted mural style, adorned by golden trim. His hand smoothes over an old book and then he looks at your tray of pastries and drinks.

"And you must be my new neighbor."

You smile and point to one of the small sample cookies. "Chocolate chip," you say and smile at Remus, "you seem like a chocolate kinda guy."

"Couldn't have said it better myself, love," James interrupts from behind you. He's leaning on one of his crutches, his broad shoulders flexing as he rolls them. He's smiling at you, towering over you as he leans one of his arms on the counter. 

Your cheeks feel warm again. "Are you partners?" You ask. 

James laughs loudly, his pretty lips turning into a smile. "No," Remus answers, finishing the cookie as he wipes the crumbs from his lips. "Jamie here is just helping while he recovers from his injury."

Your gaze falls to James's boot and he catches your gaze, his jaw clenching as he captures your chin in his hand, keeping your eyes on him. Fuck, you think as you look at him and his touch sends a jolt of electricity, he's so handsome.  

"Eyes up here, darlin'," he grumbles. The boot is obviously a sour subject for him and your eyes snap up. 

You nod, entranced. James smirks and drops your chin, his hand lingering in the air. Remus clears his throat and your attention is pulled to him again. "Y'know, I was thinking we could do something fun with our businesses—" Remus offers, stealing your attention as James's smile disappears and he clears his throat, turning to look at some of the books on the shelf. 

You turn to Remus fully now, fiddling with the small sample cups. "Oh?"

Remus nods. "I mean, a cafe and bookstore? A match made in heaven," he explains his plan, "I'm thinking we could host some events. Perhaps an evening tea book club? And we could have opportunities to blend our businesses, for example, one book purchased here could earn them one coupon at Whisk and Whims and some bonus coupons if they read the book in your cafe. I could also have James build you a bookshelf, he's my personal handyman, with sample books from here to bring in more customers, ones they could buy potentially—"

"Who said I would build you the bookshelf— I'm injured—" James interjects.

"James," Remus sends his friend a glare and you smile.

"I'd like that," you interrupt, loving Remus's plan. You feel happy that you've found him and your smile widens. "Thank you," you say honestly.

Remus's heart leaps at that smile you wear and he has to shake himself, clearing his throat. "Oh, y-yeah, no problem," he says, his Welsh accent slipping out because he's nervous and James sends him a curious look.

When you return to your café, the interactions replay in your head. You switch the open sign, humming as the mental image of James's curly hair and Remus's smile causes you to feel an unfamiliar giddiness in your chest. The morning is slower, which you'd expected from your first day, but you don't mind as your mind wanders. 

Eventually, the clock strikes one, and that familiar bell rings. You look up from where you're rearranging the cookies in the window. There are only a few customers and you only have a few staff so you see him instantly. 

You jump up, rushing to the door to open it for him since he does have crutches at the moment. However, you almost slam into a doe-eyed redhead as she holds the door open for James. Your eyes widen and you stumble back, hand finding your apron as you suppress the embarrassment coursing your veins.

The girl turns to you, skin pale and eyes a shiny emerald green. Her cherry red hair is braided to the side and she looks behind her, smiling as James helps himself through the door. He lifts his head, staring at you.

"Y/n," he says your name, a little surprised to find you here and not behind the counter. Where you should be. He turns to his girlfriend—friend? And for the first time since you'd met him today, he smiles warmly, "Thanks, Lils," 

James looks at you again and this time, the smile stays. "Remus is still busy but I wanted to stop by and see how business is," he looks around the mostly empty room and his smile falters just enough for you to see the change. Your embarrassment grows. 

Lils interrupts him, "For your first day, it's quite good! It took Sirius months to fill out his store, right, Jamsie?" 

You look at her, grateful for the kind words, and unclench your hands from your apron. You push away the embarrassment and gesture to a small table near the window, "This one is free," you back away, your voice a little shaky as you ask them, "What can I get you?"

"I'll have another Autumn Swirl," James teases you as he staggers over with the girl's hand around his muscular arm. "Lily will have anything with matcha." He laughs and Lily rolls her eyes at him, but then she nods at you. 

"Thanks," she says and then smiles. Her smile is the prettiest thing you have ever seen and when you return behind the counter to make their order, you feel stupid. Of course, someone like James is already in a relationship! What were you thinking—developing a school-girl crush on a guy you'd met only hours ago? 

You shake your head, successfully diminishing the warmth from your cheeks but only worsening that pit in your stomach as you do your best to focus on the drinks instead of hearing James's, already intoxicating, laughter from across the room. 

tags: @nubigenouss

~ THANK YOU FOR READING! this is my first series. I'm nervous but hopefully you like this! very slow burn ;) ik Sirius isn't in this one, but he will be soon! ~

[s0urw00lf]

This is a PSA. From here on out I write for all women (because I have yet to explore gender neutral writing and I don’t want to accidentally slip up and say something that might make it seem like it’s only woman based)

MEANING. Black, White, Asian, Brown, Hispanic etc.

And if I’m writing about a certain race it will be specified. As a black female it really angers me to see x readers with an obvious target audience that doesn’t include myself, all my life myself and so many other women watched as others were in the spotlight and I rarely saw any representation of myself on screen, let alone ACCURATE. It always has to be stereotyped into the story. Why can’t we be written as an heir to a long line of lawyers or doctors. Why does it always have to be we made it from the trenches and we don’t belong.

Wrote all of that to say. My fics are for ALL women, unless I say otherwise. I just want people to feel more accepted and show that change is happening.

Yes I will be writing WOC for EVERYONE I write for.

[daenysx]

a few days ago a prompt popped into my mind and i couldn't stop thinking about it: (gn) reader and sirius annoying remus SO MUCH that he's almost in physical pain because he realized he still loves pretty much those two fucking idiots

i hope you enjoy <333

poly!wolfstar x gn!reader

"for god's sake-" remus opens the other window. "would you please open the windows when you smoke inside? it ruins the entire clean air we have."

"well, i don't see the exact problem here, beloved moony." sirius gives a sound kiss on his boyfriend's cheek as an unsuccessful attempt to calm him. "you also smoke, familiar with the smell i'd say."

"yeah, but i do that outside or with the windows open." remus says.

"come here, give me a kiss."

"sirius-"

"you need it more than i do, you've been yelling since the moment you woke up."

the kiss is nice. sirius rubs his hand on remus's waist, the boy has to lean into him. their eyes stay closed, remus pulls his hair only slightly to give him a type of punisment maybe but he gets a moan instead. "the bed-"

"okay, now i'm jealous."

the boys turn their heads to the sound and here you are with another cup of coffee in your hands. "you could at least invite me." you say with a smile.

"i was just trying to distract moons, he's too busy with his nerves today." sirius says. "you're more than welcome to join us in the bed, though."

he has this smirk on his face that usually makes your legs shake with want but this time you have no time. you have an assignment you need to finish in two days and you couldn't get enough sleep. coffee is the only solution.

"another one?" remus shows the cup you hold. "are you trying to have a heart attack?"

"you drink coffee a lot, i don't see the issue here."

"yes, but it's not like i'm using coffee to survive like you do." remus says, his voice is not at all stern just considerate.

"it's fine." you come next to him with a smile. "it's not even my fourth cup, handsome. don't worry."

"oh my god." remus looks at you with huge eyes. "fourth? you're so-"

you hand your cup to sirius and hold your boyfriend's cheeks instead. remus's lips curl with the gentle pressure of your hands. you pull him to yourself to give him a kiss. he accepts it, tasting the coffee on your lips.

"what is it with you two- thinking kissing me would make me shut up about-"

you kiss him again. sirius smirks. remus thinks he's got not one but two of the same type of lovers who got him addicted to getting kisses. he doesn't have any option other than parting his lips.

cinnamon girl sleepover ♡

[postazkabansiriussupremacy]

How about some rlly fluffy & also smutty headcanons for being reunited with Sirius after he escapes Azkaban🫣🤭

sfw

♡ Sirius almost can’t believe it. How do you look even better in your thirties than you did during young adulthood???

♡ But seriously. You look absolutely beautiful; Sirius is stunned at how you’ve only gotten better with age

♡ Sirius has never been one for insecurity, but he definitely feels a little self conscious around you after you’ve reunited

♡ Obviously Sirius isn’t at his physical peak after Azkaban. He’s dirty, greasy, smelly, and extremely malnourished, but those things aren’t necessarily what he’s insecure about

♡ It’s also clear to him how much you’ve grown and matured over the last decade. No longer are you a young twenty year old, a rebel without a cause, nor your actions determined simply by your emotions.

♡ You’re a grown woman now. Rational, intelligent, capable, and emotionally stable. Sirius is self-aware enough to realize he’s missed out on a lot of learning and growing, but he tries to be a good man and partner for you.

♡ If you were married before he was sent to Azkaban, you’ll find that Sirius never lost his wedding band. Even after the ring no longer fit any of his fingers because he’d grown too thin, Sirius held onto it.

♡ He can’t get enough of your scent. He’d become so accustomed to the horrible stench of Azkaban and its inhabitants that he’d almost forgotten how good a person can smell.

♡ If you’re hugging, cuddling, etc, your best bet is that Sirius’s nose is going to be buried in your hair or neck. He claims he’ll never take clean scents for granted ever again

♡ It’s no secret Sirius takes loyalty very seriously; it’s one of his core values and something he takes a lot of pride in. So once he learns you never remarried or officially moved on from him? Oh, baby, he’s enchanted enamored by you.

♡ If you tell him to jump he’ll ask how high. He’ll feel he could never return the favor of your loyalty all those years while he was away, so he’ll be doing everything in his power to make up for it for the rest of his life.

♡ “Love” is not a deep enough word to describe his feelings for you

Nsfw

♡ Slow, sensual, lots of praise, and a small side of a breeding kink

♡ A decade in Azkaban has made Sirius a fan of the smaller things in life. Why rush to get to the act of penetration when he could take his sweet time instead? What’s the hurry?

♡ Foreplay is easily his favorite part of sex.

♡ “Focus on the journey, not the destination” ass

♡ He loves to make out. Whether it’s laying together in bed, dry humping, or you sat on the kitchen counter in front of him, legs wrapped around his hips

♡ Sirius just loves kissing

♡ I’ve said this before, but he has a newfound love and appreciation for oral sex. There’s nothing sweeter than his face between your legs, sloppily making out with your cunt. There’s nowhere his tongue hasn’t tasted

♡ The sheets below your ass are soaking after he’s finished. It’s hard to say if it’s majority his spit or your pussy juice

♡ Sirius loves wet head. Giving and receiving. Do not hold back on the saliva while sucking his cock. The wetter the better. Relishes in the sight and feeling of dribble spilling out of your mouth and making a mess of the bedding and his crotch

♡ Despite rebeling against the anti muggleborn rhetoric his parent’s tried to force on him, Sirius is pretty traditional otherwise. I think he wants a kid, so you’ll be hard pressed to find Sirius cumming anywhere except your cunt. On occasion he’ll even put a stop to a blow job to blow a load in your pussy rather than your mouth

[milesmoralesluvs]

sirius: do you cook?

james : i made a cake once.

remus: yeah, it was good.

james : really?

remus: don’t make me lie twice, james.

[inkdrinkerworld]

Cw: brief mention of past childhood abuse/trauma, talk of not being good parents. This is representation for the girlies (gn) that are unsure about being parents/know they don’t want kids! You’re perfect and valid

Sirius Black x fem!reader (one use of girl at the end there)

“I don’t think I’d want to have kids.” You say to Sirius as you lay beside him, your head on his shoulder as he tickles your back.

It’s an abrupt confession seeing as neither of you had been talking about that, but Sirius just hums.

“Any reason why, poppet?” His voice is even. To be truthful, Sirius goes back and forth with the idea too.

You take a while to elaborate; “I think having to help raise my siblings, and then dealing with all of that stress and having to correct my brother’s actions and all of that,” you take a breath. “I think it took it out of me. I also really don’t want to screw up a kid.”

Sirius nods, a kiss to your cheek. He feels you inhale against his hand and waits for you to speak again, “Would that make our relationship harder? Would it be a deal breaker?”

He pulls back to get a good look at you. “Because you don’t want babies?” When you nod, Sirius shakes his head. “No, doll. I don’t think I want kids either, but especially so if you don’t want them.”

“Don’t say that just to agree with me, Siri.” You sigh and Sirius copies you.

“I’m not. I go back and forth with it just as you do. Most days I’m leaning towards it just being me and you.” His voice is too raw and earnest for you to doubt him.

You breathe out long, “I just,” you pause, picking your words. “We’ve both had shitty childhoods, I don’t know if we’d be good parents. No one can be perfect and I don’t want to fuck up a kid that didn’t have the choice of being here; I know that much for certain.”

“I think that’s a good thing to know, babe. We aren’t what happened to us and while we’re better now, we can’t predict how we’ll be despite our best efforts with our own kids, you’re right. I wouldn’t want to fuck them up either.”

They fall when you say, “Does that make me a bad person? That I wouldn’t risk it because raising my siblings was like me having kids already and really don’t want to fuck them up like we were?”

He doesn’t like that this has been troubling you. Sirius knows you better than anyone else on planet earth and he knows for you to cry like this means you’ve thought about this a lot.

He hates that you’ve been tormenting yourself over not wanting kids for so long.

Sirius pulls you closer when your tears turn to sobs, his arms firm weight around your back as he kisses your eyes. Salty tears pass through the seam of his lips.

“That doesn’t make you a bad person, poppet. That makes you a good person actually. We can keep our family just like this. Me, you, the birds you feed in the yard and maybe a dog later down the road.”

“And a cat,” you say all sniffly and Sirius wrinkles his nose.

“If you really want a cat, I’ll get you a cat. Just no more thinking it’s wrong to not want kids.” You nod, content to let Sirius pet you as your cries slow.

“You’ll still love me the most right?” He laughs, tilting your chin up and kissing your lips.

“I love you best, silly girl. Always will, even if we had kids.” You slap his chest and Sirius shrugs. “Maybe that’s how I know I’m not cut out, I don’t think I could put someone over you.” He laughs suddenly. “Fuck that’s sounds horrid.”

You wiggle onto his chest, kissing the constellation he got for you. “Doesn’t sound horrid. Dunno if I could handle not being top of your love list.” You say teasingly and Sirius smiles, all pleased that even with your red nose and slightly puffy eyes you’re okay.

Pride blooms in his chest as it does every time he assuages your worries. “Well, you never have to worry, poppet. Now gimme a kiss and let’s finish this episode of Bake Off.”

[moonsandmobilityaids]

The Plan

Pairings: Poly!marauders x disabled!reader Summary: It's the boys' turn to enact their plan. Warnings: Chronic pain, smut Series Masterlist | Part 1

"Now that you've had your fun," he murmurs, lips brushing against your jawline, "can we proceed with our plan?"

The question stirs a flutter of anticipation within you, but also a sense of unease. You furrow your brow, considering the implications of his words.

"Your plan?" Your voice is barely a whisper, taut with both curiosity and apprehension. "What are you planning?"

You ask, though part of you fears the answer, another part yearns for the promise of change, of hope. Sirius's grin doesn't waver, only widens, revealing the reckless edge that always seems to accompany his bravado.

"Just lie back and let us take care of you," he suggests, the twinkle in his eye belying the gravity of what he implies.

"That doesn't exactly clarify anything," you retort, and James chuckles, a sound that vibrates through you as if you're intimately connected.

"Do you trust us?" James's question hangs in the air, heavy with implications, as he begins to loosen your jeans. His gaze never leaves yours, a silent challenge that quickens your pulse.

"Yes." The word slips from your lips before you can fully comprehend the gravity of what you're saying, but James appears satisfied. A small smile tugs at the corners of his mouth, and he nods, acknowledging your consent. His thumb traces slow circles on your lower abdomen, just above the waistband of your jeans, and you shiver under the feather-light touch.

"We want to take care of you," James murmurs, the words a soft promise against your skin. His fingers deftly unbutton your jeans, the action slow and deliberate, his touch lingering even as he moves to pull them down. All the while, Sirius watches, his eyes never leaving the sight of James's hands on you.

Your breath hitches as James hooks his fingers into the waistband of your jeans, pulling them down in a smooth motion that leaves you bare to their gazes. He follows the path with kisses, each one burning into your skin as he descends to kneel between your spread thighs. Remus leans against the wall, his eyes locked onto yours as his hand moves rhythmically his cock, stroking himself back to being hard. His hair is tousled, lips slightly parted as he watches you, and the sight of him so undone by desire sends a jolt of anticipation through you.

The air is thick with want, each breath you take filled with the scent of them—of sweat and cologne and something distinctly male. Sirius leans down to capture your lips once more, and the world tilts on its axis. His tongue explores your mouth, possessive and demanding, stoking the fire within you until you're certain you'll be consumed by it.

"Impatient, are we?" you manage to breathe out when he pulls back, his eyes darkened by a hunger that mirrors your own.

"Always," he whispers, the warmth of his breath dancing across your skin. His fingers trace a path down your side, edging beneath the lace waistband of your underwear. The rough pads of his knuckles glide against your sensitive flesh, drawing a sharp intake of breath from you as your hips instinctively buck towards him. You yearn for more—more contact, more friction—to quell the fire that's been ignited within.

But Sirius doesn't yield to your silent plea just yet. He teases, his fingertips ghosting along the edge of your underwear, tantalisingly close to where you need him most. His lips move with yours in a deepening kiss, his tongue pressing forward as if seeking answers to unspoken questions. But then you feel it—a firm hand, not Sirius's, pushing his away from your underwear. James's fingers curl around the lace, a mischievous grin playing on his lips as he tugs them down slowly, exposing you completely. Your clit pulses with anticipation, aching for the touch that has been promised.

The wait becomes unbearable as James leaves you hanging, his gaze fixated on your bare form like a predator eyeing its prey. You let out a frustrated whine, earning a soft chuckle from Remus who leans against the wall, his eyes never leaving the scene before him. The sound of his low laughter only stokes the fire within you, fuelled further by Sirius's lips marking your neck.

Finally, the torment ends—or rather, it takes a different form. James's fingers find their way back to you, tracing slow circles around your outer folds. He's achingly close to your swollen clit but never quite touching it, the promise of contact making you whimper in need.

"Please," you gasp, the desperation clear in your voice. You no longer care how needy you sound—the desire coursing through your veins demands satisfaction, and you're past the point of denying it.

Your hips rise off the bed, seeking his touch once more, but he pulls back, leaving you bereft. A whimper escapes your lips, a sound of pure frustration.

"James," you breathe, not caring how desperate you sound. His expression is unreadable, and it only serves to increase your confusion. How can he be so aloof when there's so much desire between you?

"Please," you plead, unable to keep the quiver from your voice. "Touch me."

A low chuckle rumbles from Remus' direction, drawing your gaze to him. He's watching, his eyes filled with amusement and something darker, something that makes your heart pound against your ribcage.

"Stop teasing her, Prongs," Remus says, the corners of his mouth twitching upwards. "It's almost cruel."

"I just want to see her beg," James replies, a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth as he meets your gaze. There's a cruel satisfaction in his eyes, one that makes your stomach flutter with anticipation and dread.

Sirius lets out a low sigh and reaches between your legs himself. His fingers find your clit, and you gasp as he applies a gentle pressure. He circles the sensitive nub with a firm touch, coaxing a moan from your lips. The relief is immediate, sending waves of pleasure radiating through your body, making your head spin.

But then Sirius pulls away, leaving you hanging on the precipice. You whimper at the loss, your hips bucking up in silent plea. "You're so needy," he whispers against your skin, his warm breath raising goosebumps along your flesh.

"God, Sirius," you gasp, trying to sound stern but failing as your voice breaks with desperation. "Don't tease."

"But begging looks so good on you." James's voice is a low growl, resonating with primal desire. He continues his ministrations unabated, the rough pads of his fingers dragging over your sensitive skin, stoking the fire within.

Desire flares within you, hot and urgent, making you curse the traitorous way your body yearns for their touch. Sirius lowers his head, taking one of your nipples into his mouth, and you cry out as he bites down gently. Pleasure spikes through you, sharp and sweet, before he soothes the sting with languid strokes of his tongue.

James' thumb finds your clit, slick with lube. He circles it slowly, his touch light but insistent. The pleasure builds in you like a wave gathering strength, each stroke pushing you toward the crest.

The heat of his hand against your bare skin contrasts sharply with the cool air of the room, every point of contact a flare of sensation. His fingers dance over your folds, tracing paths that have your breath hitching.

"Fuck," you groan, hips lifting to meet his touch as he changes the rhythm. Now his strokes are purposeful, no longer teasing but intent on driving you toward release. His thumb presses down harder on your clit, and a shudder racks your body.

But he doesn't relent. Instead, his movements become more deliberate, alternating between firm pressure and feather-light caresses that leave you writhing beneath him. Your fingers dig into the sheets, grasping for something solid as James continues to play your body like a finely tuned instrument.

His hand trails lower, fingers teasing at your entrance while his mouth finds your clit. Before you can draw a full breath, he's sucking there, hot and wet, and it's almost too much. His tongue flicks against the sensitive bud as he slides a finger inside you. You feel the pressure building, your inner walls clamping down on him instinctively.

You want to move against his hand and mouth, but each shift sends a jolt of pain shooting through your hips. It's a stark reminder of reality, grounding you amidst the sea of desire that threatens to pull you under.

"Love, are you alright?" Remus' voice cuts through the haze, concern lacing his words as he watches your face contort with both pleasure and pain.

"Yes," you manage to choke out, though it comes out more like a whimper. "Just... need a moment."

James pulls back immediately, ceasing his ministrations. His fingers, slick with your arousal, retreat and instead, draw soothing circles along your inner thigh. "What hurts?"

"My hips," you manage to say, wincing as you try to adjust your position.

"Let's try this," Sirius suggests, his hands carefully guiding you onto your side. The change in position brings some relief, the pressure on your lower back lessening slightly. His grey eyes meet yours, mirroring the same concern that lingers in Remus'. "Better?" he asks, and you nod, if only a little.

"Yes," you breathe out, the word barely more than a whisper. A small smile tugs at the corners of Sirius' mouth, not one of amusement but of relief. He brushes a stray lock of hair away from your forehead, his touch feather-light against your skin.

James moves to sit on the edge of the bed, his gaze intent on your exposed centre. There's an unmistakable hunger in his eyes, even now, when pleasure is secondary to the potential for pain. He reaches out, his thumb tracing along the curve of your lips before pressing gently, parting them with a reverence that belies his usual bravado.

"You're beautiful," James murmurs, his voice a mere whisper against the backdrop of pounding heartbeats and shallow breaths. His eyes rake over your body, lingering on the sheen of perspiration that clings to your skin, the flush spreading across your cheeks, your breasts rising and falling with each ragged inhale. He can feel the heat radiating from your core, a testament to your desire for not just one, but all three men who now lay claim to your pleasure.

And they crave you with equal fervor. Remus continues his steady strokes, the sight of you spread before them too much to resist. James and Sirius are both achingly hard, and at some point, they’d shed their clothes, but they pay no mind to their own arousal. All their attention is focused on you, watching as your body responds to their every touch.

Your hand moves to reciprocate, reaching for Sirius's arousal, but he captures your wrist in his firm grasp. "Not now, baby," he breathes into your ear, his voice a soft growl that sends shivers down your spine. His fingers lower, finding the sensitive nub at your apex. He begins circling it with a slow, steady rhythm that has you arching against him. "Tonight is about you."

You whimper in response, your head falling back onto the pillow as pleasure curls within your belly. Your body reacts to their touches, aching and yearning for more of their attention. You give a small nod, consenting to their ministrations.

Sirius continues his gentle assault on your clit as James pushes two fingers inside you. The stretch burns, your body adjusting to the intrusion, but the discomfort soon gives way to pure pleasure. Your hips shift, seeking more contact, more pressure and James obliges, his fingers curling within you.

"Fuck," you gasp out, your breath coming in short, ragged bursts. Every brush of Sirius's fingers against your clit sends jolts of electricity coursing through you, each one stronger than the last. James's fingers move in time with Sirius's strokes, a symphony of sensation that leaves you writhing beneath them.

Your voice is a broken whisper, your plea barely more than a breath. You lift your gaze to meet his, your eyes half-closed with need, and the smirk on his face says he knows just how desperate you are. James adds a third finger inside you, stretching you further as his thumb takes over from Sirius on your clit. He rubs it in slow circles, applying just enough pressure to keep the pleasure mounting.

His thumb continues its steady pace over your clit, each stroke sending shocks of pleasure through you that make your toes curl. The knot in your body tightens with every pass, wound up and ready to snap. As James shifts his fingers inside you, the sensation changes, hitting an angle that steals your breath away. When he curls them just right, striking that elusive spot, your vision swims.

"Ah—!" You gasp, your back arching. The pressure builds, your body on the precipice of something monumental.

"That's it," Sirius murmurs into your ear, teeth grazing your neck. "Let us make you feel good."

The roughness of his voice sends shivers down your spine, your body responding to his command before your mind can catch up. Your hips buck against James's hand, seeking more of that delicious friction. "Yes," you breathe out, the word barely a whisper.

"You like that, baby?" Sirius asks, his hot breath fanning over your skin. He bites down gently on your neck, marking you as his, and you respond with a nod, too lost in the sensations to form words.

The bite sends another jolt of desire coursing through you, adding fuel to the already roaring fire within. Every touch, every whisper, every look from them adds another layer to this exquisite torture, pushing you further and further towards the edge until you're teetering, ready to fall.

"Please," you gasp, the word barely a breath, your hips grinding against the rhythm of his fingers. Your body arches, pressing into James's touch, seeking more—a deeper, harder friction.

His fingers move faster inside you, their pads rough against your slick walls. The pressure builds as he curls them, hitting that spot deep within you over and over. Sirius’s mouth finds your neck, biting gently at the tender skin, his hands exploring the curves of your body with an almost reverent touch.

Across the room, Remus watches, his eyes dark with desire. He strokes himself slowly, savouring the sight of you writhing between the boys. Your soft moans fill the room, a symphony of pleasure that stirs his arousal, yet he remains where he is, watching and waiting for you to beckon him closer.

James's thumb circles your clit, applying just the right amount of pressure, driving you closer to the edge with each calculated movement. Your legs tremble, muscles tightening around him as your body threatens to unravel.

You sense Remus stepping closer, his body radiating heat as he moves to the edge of the bed. His hand still strokes himself, his gaze locked on the scene unfolding before him. You can see the desire in his eyes, matching the intensity of James and Sirius's attention. It's intoxicating, the way they all focus on you, their every action designed to coax pleasure from your trembling form. But it's also disorienting, the room spinning slightly as you fight to keep yourself grounded. You want them to feel this too, to experience the ecstasy they're bringing you. They deserve that much.

James's thumb finds your clit again, pressing down in rhythm with the thrusts of his fingers inside you. Each stroke sends a jolt through your body, heightening the sensations coursing through your veins. It's almost too much, the pleasure bordering on pain as you struggle to keep up. Your breath comes in ragged gasps, your mind reeling from the onslaught of sensation. You lose yourself in it, letting the feeling consume you until there's nothing left but raw, primal need. It's so intense that you nearly forget about the burning desire to reach climax, to find release from the tension building within you.

Almost, but not quite. The frustration simmers below the surface, a tight knot in your stomach that refuses to unravel no matter how hard you try. You can feel it there, just out of reach, taunting you with its elusive promise of relief. The more you chase it, the further it seems to recede, slipping away like sand through your fingers.

The next touch comes from Sirius, his mouth closing over your nipple with a sureness that sends sparks shooting through your veins. He suckles with an intensity that has you gasping, arching into the sensation as pleasure sharpens into something bordering on pain.

Remus shifts to the other side of the bed, his lips meeting yours in a kiss that is both an apology and a promise. His hand mirrors Sirius's actions, teasing your other breast until your skin is alive with want. You taste your moans on his tongue, hear them echoed in the low growl that vibrates against your chest.

It's too much and not enough, all at once. The room spins with the intoxicating mix of sensations, yet you crave more—more of their touch, their taste, their presence pressing in on all sides.

You feel each stroke of Sirius's tongue like a brand, every squeeze of Remus's fingers like they're moulding you anew. James's hand delves lower, tracing paths across your stomach that make your hips buck, seeking friction against nothing but air. Your breaths come in shallow pants, your heart pounding a desperate rhythm against your ribs.

The pressure mounts, each touch a promise of the release you crave. But as your body strains towards its peak, something holds you back. The climax you yearn for remains elusive, an echo of pleasure that dances just out of reach.

"Fuck," you gasp, the word torn from your lips by frustration and need. "I can't... I need..."

James pulls away abruptly, leaving you bereft and aching, your body thrumming with unfulfilled desire. His eyes are dark, filled with a hunger that mirrors your own, but there's a calculating edge to his gaze.

"No," you protest, voice hoarse. "Don't stop. Please."

A wicked smile plays on his lips, but it's not satisfaction that fuels it—it's anticipation. "We're not stopping, love. Far from it."

Relief washes over you, followed by a fresh wave of confusion. If they're not stopping, then what are they doing? You look to James for answers, but he only watches you, drinking in the sight of your flushed skin and heaving chest.

"You're so beautiful like this," he murmurs, tracing a finger along the curve of your hip. "So desperate, so needy. You'd take anything we give you, wouldn't you?" His words aren't really a question—they're a challenge, and despite the rawness of your body, you find yourself nodding, eager for whatever they have planned.

"Maybe it's time we give her what she wants," Remus suggests, his voice velvet over steel. He leans in closer, his lips hovering just beside your ear. The warmth of his breath fans across your cheek, making you shiver. "We each have an idea of how to make you cum. So who do you want first?"

"I can't," you breathe out, the edges of your vision blurring as the pleasure continues to build. "I can't choose."

"Then let's go from least likely to most likely," James decides. He reaches for his wand and Sirius reluctantly pulls away, allowing James to slide in beside you. You wrap a leg around his waist, drawing him closer. He grips the base of his cock and strokes it a few times, eyes never leaving yours.

"What are you going to do?" you ask, breathless as he reaches for the bottle of lube.

He glances over his shoulder at Remus and Sirius before looking back at you. "I'm going to fuck you," he says, voice low and full of promise. "And while I do, I'm going to cast a spell that heightens your sensations."

Your heart hammers in your chest as he begins to lube up his cock. The thought of what's to come sends a thrill of anticipation through you. Three men, each with their own unique approach to pleasure, ready to claim you in turn.

"But it doesn't stop there," James continues, his eyes never leaving yours. "Once I've finished, Sirius will take my place. He'll use a different spell, one that acts like a muggle vibrator."

A whimper escapes your lips at the thought, your body already aching for more. You can't imagine what this spell will feel like, how it could possibly enhance what you're already experiencing. But you trust James, trust them all, and so you nod, giving him permission to continue.

"Good girl," he murmurs, leaning down to kiss you once more. His lips move against yours, a soothing balm to the storm of desire raging within you. "And after Sirius... Remus is going to use a toy on you, a suction one, right on your clit while he fucks you. It'll be... intense."

"God," you moan, the word barely a whisper as heat floods your core. The idea of it all, the promise of what's to come, has your head spinning. But even amidst the whirlwind of sensation, one thing is clear: you want this. You want them, all three of them, and everything they have to offer.

A thrill of anticipation shivers through you as James murmurs a warming charm, his fingers deftly tracing a path over your clit. The magic sends a rush of heat to your core and your thighs quiver in response, the pleasure building with every gentle stroke.

"Fuck," you gasp, your back arching off the bed as the warmth intensifies, each pulse more potent than the last. Your vision blurs with the intensity of it, the world narrowing down to the sensation between your legs.

Then, with an incantation you don't recognise, he amplifies your sensitivity even further, making you acutely aware of every tiny movement, every breath that fans across your skin.

The soft whimper that escapes your lips is involuntary when he positions himself at your entrance, the head of his cock teasing your folds. You're wet and ready for him, but the need to feel him inside you is so overwhelming that your hips lift involuntarily, seeking contact.

James doesn't make you wait any longer; with a low groan, he pushes forward, sinking into you. His eyes slip shut, and you can almost taste his pleasure in the way his muscles tense and relax as he begins to move. The creak of the bed beneath you is drowned out by your own moans, each one a testament to how good he feels inside you.

Every nerve ending in your body is alight with sensation, but you barely register the way your fingernails dig into his shoulders, pulling him closer, deeper. He fills you completely, and the friction of his cock against your walls is just right—enough to keep you teetering on the edge, but not enough to send you over.

"Fuck," James breathes, a swear that's half groan and half prayer. His hand tightens on your hip, fingers pressing into the tender flesh as he moves, slow and measured within you. The warmth around your clit is almost unbearable, amplified by the rhythm of his body against yours. Each stroke sends tremors through you, waves lapping at the shore of your senses before receding, only to return with even greater intensity.

Your breath hitches in your throat, a gasp that's swallowed by the night. Your muscles clench around him, a silent plea for more. He answers with a low growl, his pace quickening. Heat flares along your skin, the friction between your bodies sparking a fire that threatens to consume you both.

James' grip on your hips is unyielding, each thrust driving him deeper, harder. Anticipation coils tight within you, a spring wound up to its breaking point. And then, with one final, devastating push, he breaches the last barrier of your restraint, sending you hurtling over the edge into ecstasy.

Remus and Sirius watch in rapt attention as James begins to move against you, the rhythm slow but unyielding. His moans fill the room, a testament to the pleasure coursing through him, but they are only a backdrop to the symphony of your own rising desire.

Their gazes burn into your skin, sending shivers down your spine even as James's hands explore your body. You can see the shared need reflected in their eyes, the hunger that mirrors your own. It's intoxicating, this dance of desire, made all the more potent by the presence of those who share it with you.

Sirius reaches out, his hand closing around one of your breasts with an urgency that matches the rhythm of your bodies. The unexpected touch sends a jolt of pleasure coursing through you, and you arch your back, a low moan escaping your lips. Your nipples harden under his touch, each flick of his thumb sending waves of pleasure radiating through your chest.

But despite the mounting tension within you, release remains just out of reach. It's infuriating and exhilarating all at once, the promise of climax hanging in the air like an unspoken vow. You dig your fingers into James's shoulders as he thrusts into you, the friction between your bodies sending sparks of pleasure shooting through your core.

Sweat beads on your skin, the heat between you both intense and unrelenting. It slickens the movement, each slide of James's body against yours sending shudders through you both. He maintains a steady pace, the rhythm familiar yet overwhelming, each push coaxing another moan from your throat.

His breath is hot on your neck, the sound of it a steady whisper in your ear. One of his hands leaves your hip to trail down your body, fingers seeking out the source of your pleasure. When he finds it, you gasp, lifting your hips to meet his touch. Your body reacts instinctively, craving the contact that promises to tip you over the edge.

Your eyes flutter shut, a whimper escaping your lips as you bite down on the soft flesh of your bottom lip to stifle the scream threatening to break free. The additional stimulation is almost too much, pushing you closer to the edge, but still not enough to send you over.

James's thumb moves in slow circles around your sensitised pearl, his smirk one of pure satisfaction as he watches you unravel. Desperate for more, you grind your hips into his hand, seeking the friction that will tip you over the edge, but James simply holds you steady, his rhythm unyielding as he plunges into you again and again.

Leaning in, Sirius captures your lips with his own, drawing you into a dizzying kiss that makes your head tilt back to offer him better access. His breath is hot against your skin, his tongue tracing the seam of your lips before delving deeper, his pace matching James's. You moan into his mouth, the added sensation amplifying everything until you're on the brink once more, squirming beneath their touch.

You push your hips harder against James's hand, but his fingers falter, the sudden pause in his rhythm leaving you gasping, the need for release becoming unbearable. Your body tenses, and a whine of frustration escapes your throat, the pent-up pleasure begging for release.

"Fuck!" You gasp, breaking the kiss with Sirius to look at James with eyes that plead for mercy. "Please, James, I need...just...ugh!"

The tension inside you feels unbearable, and every time you think you're close to finding release, it slips away. Frustration builds into a low growl against Sirius's lips, and he doesn't laugh at your desperation this time.

"Shh, I know, love. Just relax," James murmurs against your ear, still moving inside you with a control that's maddening in its precision. Then, almost simultaneously, Sirius's thumb begins to circle your clit while James mutters a spell under his breath. The sensation on your nipples intensifies, making them ache with a sudden sharpness that steals your breath.

The combination is heady, a symphony of pleasure that lights sparks from your breasts to your core. You can't help but arch into their touches, the enchanted heat winding tighter within you. Yet despite the crescendo of sensations, release remains tantalisingly out of reach.

"Please," you gasp, voice rough with need. "I... I can't..."

You writhe, hips undulating against Sirius's insistent touch, seeking the relief that dangles just beyond your grasp. But they don't relent, the intensity building until you're certain you'll shatter.

"Ah," James groans, the sensation of your hardened nipples brushing against his chest only adding to the delicious friction. "You are going to cum for us. We won't stop until we've done that, but I... Merlin... I may not last much longer."

His confession sends a thrill through you, as if his impending release is another form of control he's surrendering to you. You feel him throb inside you, the pulsating rhythm matching the frantic beat of your heart.

"I don't know how much more I can..."

"Cum for me, James." Your voice is no more than a breathless whisper in his ear, yet it carries the weight of command. Your legs wrap tighter around him, drawing him deeper still. "Please. I want you to cum."

And with that, he shatters. His thrusts become erratic, his grip on you tightening as if you are the only tether to reality. The pulsing heat of him sends waves of pleasure through your core, but it's not enough to tip you over the edge.

"Fuck," he gasps out, chest heaving as he collapses beside you. His body is slick with sweat, muscles twitching from the aftershocks of release. You smile at the ceiling, reaching up to push damp strands of hair from your forehead.

"That's good," you murmur, turning onto your side to face him. His eyes are half-lidded, clouded with satiation and something warmer, softer. You lean in, pressing a slow kiss to his lips, savouring the taste of him—salt and sweetness, desire and relief.

When you finally pull away, his smile is lazy, the flush on his cheeks deepening under your scrutiny. The corners of his mouth lift in a satisfied grin, one that speaks volumes of the pleasure he's just experienced. But his satisfaction is short-lived because there's still unfinished business between the sheets—you've yet to find your own release.

Sirius's eyes flicker with anticipation as he shifts, positioning himself between your spread thighs. They're slick with James's release and lube, and now, they're ready for more. Sirius guides himself, sliding the head of his cock up and down your folds, spreading the mixture of fluids around.

James passes the wand to Sirius, who takes it with a knowing smirk. "Let me help you with that," he says, his voice low and full of promise. He angles the wand just right, directing its tip towards your clit. As he utters the incantation, a pulse of magic surges from the wand, sending waves of vibration through your body. You gasp, your back arching as pleasure radiates from your core. Your hips jerk instinctively, seeking more of the sensation that threatens to consume you.

"Patience, love," Sirius says, his voice a teasing caress that matches the rhythm of the wand. He moves to position himself at your entrance, replacing James's absence with his own girth.

The stretch is more noticeable with Sirius, his thickness a contrast to James's length. Yet there's an odd sense of completion as he fills you, as though each man offers something different yet equally satisfying.

Sirius sets a rhythm, steady and deep, his eyes never leaving your face as he watches every reaction. Your pleasure is mirrored in the depths of his grey gaze, the firelight flickering across them, casting shadows that only add to the intimate atmosphere.

"Talk to me," he commands, his voice a low growl. "Tell me how it feels."

The words are barely a whisper, lost in the space between your bodies. "It's... incredible." You arch into him, chasing the sensation as he thrusts deeper, hitting just the right spot. A moan escapes your lips, unbidden but entirely warranted given the circumstances.

"You're perfect," Sirius grunts, the strain evident in his voice. The charm continues its relentless assault on your clit, sending jolts of pleasure through you each time he moves. The dual sensations are almost too much to bear, blurring the line between pain and pleasure until all that exists is this moment.

Your head falls back, your body arching instinctively towards the source of your pleasure. Sirius follows your movements, adjusting his angle to hit that sweet spot inside you over and over again. Each thrust sends stars bursting behind your closed eyelids, the world narrowing down to the feel of him inside you, the sound of your ragged breaths filling the room.

You're barely aware of the lips that trace a path along the back of your neck, the warmth of breath on your ear a stark contrast to the slight roughness of stubble against your skin. The hands on your hips are firm, holding you steady as Sirius continues to ravage your senses from the front. His fingers dance across your skin, every touch igniting tiny sparks under the surface, and you can't help but arch into his touch, seeking more.

Remus's voice is low, almost a growl, as he leans in closer, his body a wall of heat behind you. "Beautiful," he murmurs, the word barely audible above the sound of your own ragged breathing. He's watching you, you realise, taking in every reaction, every shiver and gasp that passes your lips.

The praise sends a thrill through you, stoking the fire within until it threatens to consume you completely. You're teetering on the edge, the world narrowing down to the feel of their hands on your body, their voices in your ears. There's an urgency now, a need that claws at your insides, demanding to be sated.

"Good girl," Remus whispers, his words a lifeline as you drown in sensation. "So good for us."

But despite their efforts, the release you crave remains just out of reach. The pleasure is intense, overwhelming, yet something holds you back from the edge. Sirius can sense it, feel your frustration mirroring his own as he drives into you harder, faster, desperate to tip you over into bliss. He's close too, so close, his breathing erratic and strained as he urges you on.

"Please," he growls, a note of desperation creeping into his voice. "Just let go, love. You're so close... I can feel it..."

His fingers dig into the soft flesh of your hips, anchoring him to you as he seeks his own release. But it's your pleasure he craves, the sight of you undone beneath him that will send him spiralling into ecstasy. He can feel it building within you, the tension coiling tighter with each thrust, each moan that escapes your lips.

"Sirius," you gasp, fingers tangling in his hair, pulling him closer. "Please..."

Your nails drag down his back, leaving trails of fire in their wake. The sharp sting only spurs him on, his movements becoming more frantic, more desperate. He's losing control, and the thought sends a jolt of arousal through you, intensifying the pleasure that threatens to consume you both.

The pressure of Remus' hands against your hips is a grounding presence, anchoring you when every nerve ending screams for release. His fingers dig into your skin, holding you steady as Sirius continues to thrust, the rhythm unrelenting. The vibrating spell on your clit hums with an intensity that borders on too much, threatening to rip you apart at the seams.

"Fuck," you gasp, head falling back against Remus' shoulder. Your eyes flutter shut, the room spinning as pleasure coalesces into a single point of blinding light. It dances just out of reach, tantalising and maddening in equal measure.

Sirius doesn't let up, his movements growing rougher, more desperate. The bed creaks under the weight of your tangled bodies, the air heavy with the scent of sweat and sex and magic.

Every fibre of your being is wound tight, strung taut between the promise of release and the fear of losing control. Your heart pounds in your chest, the sensation so intense it's almost painful. And then, as if sensing your struggle, Remus' voice cuts through the fog of pleasure once more.

"Trust us," he whispers, lips brushing against the shell of your ear. "We've got you."

But you remain stubbornly stuck on that precipice, teetering on the edge, unable to fall into the delicious abyss that awaits below.

"Fuck, I—" Sirius's words cut off with a growl, his teeth gritted against the onslaught of sensation. One final, powerful thrust and he stills, his body taut as a bowstring. You can feel him pulsing inside you, each throb sending ripples through your senses, even as your own climax remains frustratingly out of reach.

Sirius’s lips find your collarbone, pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses along the line of your throat before his tongue traces a path upwards to your ear. "You're so beautiful," he murmurs, the words a rough caress against your skin. His voice is thick with desire, the darkness in it hinting at promises yet unfulfilled.

The sensation of Sirius pulling out is almost too much to bear, a keen sense of loss chasing the echoes of pleasure. The magic that had been dancing on your clit ceases, leaving you bereft and whining softly in the hollow stillness.

"Don’t worry, we're not finished," Remus's voice is a soothing balm, his hands warm and reassuring as they trace patterns on your skin, igniting the path for what's to come. He pulls you back towards him, your hips meeting his in a rhythm that promises more pleasure—different this time.

"Are you ready for something new?" His words are heavy with anticipation, a soft growl that makes your stomach flutter in response.

Before you can answer, he presses a small device against your clit, a different form of magic buzzing to life. It's not like the vibrating spell—this one feels more... suction-like—and you let out a low whine at the unexpected sensation. Your clit is already sensitive from the earlier spell, throbbing with need, but you don't care about the overstimulation. You're teetering on the edge, desperate for release.

"That's it... Let yourself feel everything." His breath fans across your ear, sending shivers down your spine. "You sound so beautiful when you lose control."

His fingers slip between your folds once more, gathering your arousal before he replaces them with the tip of his hardened length. He presses in slowly, allowing you to adjust to his size before he starts moving inside you. The sensation is almost too much—his cock filling you whilst the toy continues its relentless pressure on your clit.

"Fuck," Remus groans as he enters you fully, his hand gripping your hip tightly. He sets a slow, deliberate pace, thrusting into you while keeping the toy firmly against your clit. But it's not enough—you need more, your hips pushing back to meet him, seeking the intensity that only he can give.

"Easy, love," he breathes against your skin, placing a tender kiss on your shoulder blade. His control is slipping, and you can sense it—feel it—in every stroke.

But you're past reason now, desperate for release. "I can't, Remus... I need..." Your voice trails off, unable to articulate the urgency coursing through your veins.

A low hum grows louder as the toy increases its pace, the suction pulling at your sensitive bud in a rhythm designed to drive you mad. Each pulse sends a jolt through your body, drawing gasps from your lips and leaving you writhing against the bed.

"Please," you whimper, the word barely audible over the sounds of your own pleasure. "Please..."

The slow drag of Remus's cock within you is nothing short of exquisite torture, each thrust calculated to keep you teetering on the edge of release without granting you the sweet relief you crave. Your hips buck into his, seeking more contact, more friction, but he maintains his relentless pace, his fingers digging into your hips to hold you still.

A gasp rips from your throat as the toy buzzes against a particularly sensitive spot, your eyes rolling back as you arch into the sensation. A smirk pulls at Remus's lips, his thumb swiping over the controls to increase the intensity. The sudden change has your breath hitching, your body tightening as pleasure edges you closer to release.

"Fuck," you breathe, your hands clenching in the sheets as your body writhes under the onslaught of sensations. "Remus, I can't..."

But your plea falls on deaf ears—or perhaps it is simply ignored. Either way, the toy against your clit is relentless, pushing you ever closer to the precipice you're not sure you're ready to tumble over.

"Please," you whimper again, your voice barely above a whisper, but the desperation behind it is palpable. It's a plea for mercy, for release, for him to take you there—and yet, he doesn't relent.

Instead, his movements become more purposeful, more forceful. His hips meet yours with each thrust, driving him deeper inside you. Each time he hits that spot within, a jolt of pleasure courses through you and converges with the relentless rhythm of the toy against your clit. It's too much—too intense—but it's also not enough, leaving you teetering on the brink, desperate for the release that is just out of reach.

You've never felt this close, and Remus knows it by the way you're tightening around him. His lips quirk in a satisfied smirk as he keeps the toy pressed firmly against your clit. The suction sends waves of pleasure through you, making your hips buck back against him, despite his attempt to hold you still so he can continue. Your breaths come fast and desperate, each one sounding more strained than the last.

The ache inside you pulses intensely, and your clit is so sensitive it borders on pain. You're swamped with sensation, focused entirely on that single, all-consuming point of desire.

Remus's grip on your hips tightens, his own breath hitching as he feels you clenching around him. He knows you're teetering on the edge, and there's an undeniable sense of relief for both of you as this intense build-up finally nears its peak.

The sounds of James and Sirius are there too, their breaths hitching, their groans intermingling with your own. But it's Remus's moans that float above the rest, a low growl that vibrates against your skin. His hips move with purpose, each thrust bringing you closer to the edge.

"Remus," you whimper, your fingers curling into the sheets as you feel your climax building, coiling tight within your core. You're so close, teetering on the brink of release. You can taste it, the sweet promise of ecstasy that awaits just out of reach.

The tempo shifts, a sudden urgency replacing the steady rhythm. Remus is a force of nature, his movements as unpredictable and thrilling as a storm at sea. His breath gusts hot against your ear, the words he whispers there lost in the swell of sensation that threatens to drown you.

His grip tightens on the wand, the pressure against your sensitive flesh increasing until the vibrations become an irresistible pulse. It resonates within you, an echo of your own heartbeat that drives you closer and closer to the edge.

"Please," you whimper, the word barely more than a breath, yet it carries the weight of your desperation. "Please."

"Let go for me," he whispers, his voice rough with shared need. It's a plea, a command wrapped in velvet tones that hits you like a tidal wave, resonating in the very core of your being.

And with those words, the dam breaks. A rush of pleasure so intense it borders on pain sweeps through you. It starts from the epicentre of your desire, radiating outwards until every nerve ending is ablaze with sensation. Your vision whites out, replaced by a burst of stars behind your eyelids as you cry out, your voice echoing off the walls.

Your body convulses, wracked by waves of ecstasy that leave no room for thought or reason. All that exists is the here and now, the overwhelming fullness of him inside you, and the relentless surge of pleasure that seems to go on forever.

Remus' length pulses as he finds his own release, hands splayed wide on your hips, grounding him to reality. His body tenses, a silent exclamation of climax before relaxing into a boneless heap, his movements slowing but not ceasing, drawing out your pleasure until you're left trembling in the aftermath.

Finally, when your muscles have stopped clenching around him and your breaths come in shallow gasps, Remus pulls away. You're left feeling empty yet fulfilled, your body humming with satisfaction even as exhaustion begins to take hold. Every limb feels heavy, yet you're weightless, floating on the remnants of shared ecstasy.

With a final shudder, you roll onto your back, chest heaving. Remus pulls the toy away from your overstimulated clit and you gasp, both relief and loss echoing through you. Your body feels like a battleground—exhausted yet humming with residual energy, muscles relaxed but also tensed as if bracing for an aftershock.

Every nerve ending feels raw, a dull ache beginning to settle in your lower abdomen. You're distantly aware of James and Sirius moving around in the bathroom, the sounds of water running and low voices discussing something you can't quite make out.

But it's Remus' voice that draws your attention back to the present.

"You alright, love?" he asks, concern lacing his words.

You turn your head towards him, blinking slowly as you take in the sight of his worried gaze. You manage a weak smile, lifting a shaky hand to brush away a lock of hair sticking to your forehead.

"Yeah," you whisper, voice hoarse. "I... I didn't know it could be like that. Thank you."

Remus's smile is warm as he shifts next to you, his fingers brushing a stray lock of hair from your damp forehead. "It's our pleasure, love. Always."

The door creaks open again, and Sirius steps back into the room, now clad in a pair of loose boxers. His eyes, usually so full of mischief, are clouded with concern. "Are you in any pain? Your hips were hurting earlier." His voice is gruff, laced with an undercurrent of something akin to fear.

You pause. Your joints were aching before you’d even got started, and there's a residual ache in your muscles, a tenderness that wasn't there before, but it's a good sort of soreness, a testament to the pleasure they'd coaxed from every fibre of your being. You nod, just once. "A bit, but that's to be expected."

A frown etches itself onto Remus's face as he processes your words, but he nods, understanding dawning in his eyes. "Alright, love," he murmurs, his voice softer now, like a balm to your frayed nerves. "How about a bath? It might help ease the tension in your muscles, and... well, you need to get clean."

You nod, surrendering to the idea. The thought of warm water enveloping your aching body brings a small measure of relief.

"We'll help you," James interjects, his voice steady despite the worry that lingers in his gaze. He moves towards you with calculated steps, testing the strength left in your limbs. His arms slide under you, careful not to jostle you too much, and he lifts you from the bed with a gentleness that belies his strength.

You don't protest, too tired to assert independence you're not sure you possess right now. You let him carry you, your body limp against his chest, as he navigates through the corridors toward the bathroom. The door swings open to reveal a tub filled with steamy water, bubbles clinging to the surface.

The water's warmth seeps into your muscles, loosening the painful knots that have formed over time. You let out a sigh, the first hint of relief washing over you. Remus hands you a washcloth, and you accept it with a nod of gratitude, cleaning yourself up.

For a few moments, all is quiet except for the gentle lapping of water against porcelain. You lean back against the tub, allowing the heat to work its magic on your body. Another sigh escapes your lips, this one less pained, more relieved.

"Feeling any better?" James' voice is soft, cautious, as if he's afraid to shatter the fragile peace that has fallen over the bathroom.

You turn your head slightly, meeting his gaze. "Yes," you whisper, "much better, thank you."

A silent exchange passes between you and James—a moment of understanding, an acknowledgement of the bond you share. You close your eyes again, leaning back against the tub's porcelain curve. The water's warmth seeps into your tired muscles, sapping the last vestiges of tension from your body.

"Okay, you're going to drown if you stay in there any longer," Remus jests, unplugging the drain. The water gurgles away, leaving a faint chill in its absence. You shift, suddenly aware of how refreshed your body feels—cleaned of sweat and grime, but also of some intangible weight.

James steps forward, offering a hand to steady you as you rise, muscles still weak from exertion. He wraps a towel around you, the plush fabric a stark contrast against your skin, still shivering despite the warmth of the room. Gently, he guides you to sit on the dry shower stool.

"Dry her off," Remus instructs James and Sirius, retreating to your bedroom for a moment. When he returns, he carries an armful of soft clothes—nothing fancy, just simple garments designed for comfort rather than style.

James and Sirius move with care, patting the towel against your skin with a gentleness that belies their earlier intensity. Every brush of cotton feels like a promise, a vow to keep you safe even from the smallest discomforts. You can't help but lean into their touch, finding solace in this unexpected tenderness.

The warmth of the towel envelops you as James helps you dry off, careful not to aggravate your injuries. Then he assists you in slipping on the fresh clothes Remus brought—a soft cotton shirt and lounge pants that feel like a balm to your battered skin. He lifts you up once more, carrying you back to the sanctuary of the bedroom.

As he lays you down, the soft pillows cradle your head, offering a comfort you haven't felt in what seems like forever. Sirius and Remus take their places on either side of you, their bodies a reassuring presence as they lay down with you on the bed.

"How are you feeling?" Remus asks, his voice low and soothing. His hand reaches out, brushing a damp strand of hair from your face with a gentleness that makes your heart ache. His eyes, so full of concern and something deeper, never leave yours.

"Better," you admit, offering him a small but sincere smile. The warmth of the water has seeped into your aching muscles, coaxing them into reluctant relaxation. And their presence brings a sense of calm you always crave.

A soft touch traces the curve of your arm, raising goosebumps on your skin. Sirius's fingers lightly dance up and down, his movements almost reverent. "Just rest," he murmurs, the playful edge to his voice belying the gravity in his storm-grey eyes. "We'll take care of you."

James's hand finds yours, his strong fingers lacing with your own. The connection sends a current through you—subtle, reassuring. "We'll see to it," he says, his confidence a steady anchor amidst the roiling sea of uncertainty. "Whatever you need."

Emotion wells up within you, a mix of gratitude and affection that threatens to spill over. Without uttering a single word, your fingers tighten around James's hand, and your body leans instinctively into the steadiness of Remus beside you. Your head finds a resting place on his shoulder, and he responds with a comforting arm draped protectively around you. Sirius shifts closer, his presence a silent vow that no harm will come to you while they're here.

With them surrounding you, their bodies a living barrier against the chill of fear, you let your eyes drift shut. The rhythm of their breathing—steady, sure—becomes a lullaby to your frayed nerves. Their heartbeats, once distinct, now merge into a single, reassuring thrum that vibrates gently against your skin, grounding you in the reality of their care.

This is safety, you realize—a sanctuary woven from the threads of their commitment to you and each other. This is where you are cherished, not as an object to be possessed but as a person to be loved and respected. You draw in a deep breath, taking in the subtle scents that are uniquely theirs, and release it slowly, surrendering to the tranquillity that has settled around you.

[accio-sriracha]

Essence of Sirius

Sirius tasted like cigarettes and red licorice. He smelled like hairspray and something a little floral. He looked carefree and wild. He sounded like loud laughter and secretive whispers. He felt like smooth skin and rough edges. He walked like he had something to prove.

When Sirius got into a fight he tasted like firewhiskey and a hint of blood. He smelled like leather and smoke. He looked like fierce glares and protective eyes. He sounded like loud arguments and daring words. He felt like bruised skin and bloodied knuckles. He walked like nothing would harm his friends as long as he was around.

When Sirius came back from quidditch practice he tasted like chewing gum and sweat. He smelled like dirt and wind. He looked like victorious smiles and ruffled hair. He sounded like excited cheers and playful banter. He felt like muddy jerseys and scratched skin. He walked like he was on top of the world.

When Sirius first woke up he tasted like toothpaste and pumpkin juice. He smelled like clean soap and coconut shampoo. He looked like sleepy smiles and dragging feet. He sounded like loud yawns and quiet murmurs. He felt like oversized jumpers and soft hair. He walked like he would give anything to sleep a little longer.

When Sirius was with his love he tasted like chocolate and cherry chapstick. He smelled like late night air and the cologne they bought him. He looked like puppy dog eyes and doting smiles. He sounded like kind whispers and constant affection. He felt like warm kisses and gentle touch. He walked like he would never feel this high again.

[redr0sewrites]

My Marauders Hcs

🥀A/n: most of these aren't intended to be x reader, but some of them are !

🥀Character(s): James, Sirius, Remus, Peter

🥀Cw: none, mostly fluff

James:

James is the type to have a planner and obsess over it the first week of owning it, and then forget about it immediately afterwards. every school year he tells himself that this is the year he's organized, and then by the third week the planner is rotting under his bed and he's going by memory

constantly running a hand through his hair. it started off as a nervous tic, but soon became soothing for him. whenever he's upset or frustrated, he always finds himself ruffling and messing with his hair. a lot of people think its on purpose, but its not, and he gets really defensive when people point it out.

simultaneously smart but dumb. James is an intelligent individual, but he just doesn't apply himself and would probably be top of his class if he tried- he just doesn't care too. not that his grades are bad per se, but they aren't as good as they could be

James is one of those people who's actually quieter once you get close to them. he overcompensates and acts more extroverted than he is in most social interactions, but once you get close to him he mellows out and becomes quieter. you can tell when James is really comfortable with someone because he's very relaxed and calm around them, he doesn't feel the need to be anything more than he is

sooo loyal. we already know this, but seriously, if he's dating you, he's the most loyal person there is. you would never ever even suspect he's cheating, he gets grossed out if other people even flirt with him. if he's dating you, he's whipped!!

on top of this, James is not afraid to show you off. he never understands how someone could be embarrassed of their partner, or pretend they aren't a couple because of others' opinions. he understands being private about a relationship, but if someone directly asks who he's dating, he's going to say that its you- and he's proud too!

tiny shirt + big pants combo>>>

let marlene do his makeup once at a party and, while he thought it was cool, didn't really think it was for him. he'll wear makeup if you want him too, and occasionally he'll put on mascara or tinted chapstick just for kicks, but i don't think he would spend a lot of time on makeup of skincare or stuff like that. he just doesn't have the patience for it

in my head he's half arabian and 1/4 african, with his father being mixed and his mother being fully arabian. his hair is sooo curly, and it took him a while to learn how to take care of it and keep his curls from getting frizzy or dry

James let Sirius attempt to pierce his ears sometime during fifth year, and wanted to try it the "muggle way" which, predictably, went badly wrong- but he's fond of them anyway! so, now he has slightly crooked ear piercings that he just puts plain black studs or a small diamond in. he also forgets to take his earrings out for Quidditch a LOT, so Peter was always reminding him about it

we all know about the headcanons about him wearing red converse, but i also vividly see him wearing the dirtiest high top vans you've ever seen- something like this but heavily used and loved

if a sweater or hoodie is too long, he has to push the sleeves up to his elbows. James cannot stand the feeling of sleeves brushing against his hand or wrist, its so specific but it would piss him off so much

tries to learn French so he could understand Sirius' and Regulus' conversations (especially when they were talking about him in front of him), and has an insane duolingo streak. like he's failing half his classes just because he's lazy, but his duolingo streak is like 400+

curses in Arabic a lot, and also calls his friends nicknames or petnames in Arabic as well

James has a really loud, boisterous laugh that practically fills up a room and makes everyone turn to look at him- like genuinely he can NOT be quiet when laughing

Sirius:

he made "potions" in the shower as a kid

Sirius cuts his hair on his own, and gets really nervous about asking other people to cut it. its a big sign of trust for him if he lets you cut his hair, as Walburga used to cut it short as a punishment. he genuinely prefers to just do it himself, but that means that more often than not his hair is pretty long because it's tough to reach the back

has at least 4 rubber bands on his wrist at all times- one for himself, one for Marlene, one for Lily, and then one extra. he oftentimes has even more, and he forgets that he has them on and will wake up in the morning with literal creases in his wrist because he kept them on for sooo long 😭

in his first/second year, Sirius had a french accent that he desperately tried to get rid of. he eventually succeeded, but it still slips out occasionally

he started painting his nails to piss off his parents, but soon became pretty good at it. now, Sirius and the girls of the friendgroup all hang out and he does their nails for them! in my mind, he has medium-short nails. they aren't completely flat, and he keeps them very smooth and rounded and pushes back his cuticles as well

has a comfort leather jacket that he wears almost constantly. the texture and weight is so familiar to him that even taking it off feels uncomfortable sometimes. when he's anxious or upset, he'll wear the jacket to help calm himself down and a lot of times, he has woken up with it on after a stressful night

Sirius has a complicated relationship with cleaning. his parents were far too strict about neatness, and he's associated cleaning with lots of negative memories, including being yelled at and stuff like that. this being said, he struggles a lot with cleaning up his own space and gets very easily offended if you even imply that himself or his space is dirty. Sirius also struggles with self care and bodily upkeep for similar reasons, even if its just basic things like combing his hair or brushing his teeth. he gets those tasks done, but he doesn't enjoy them and it's very draining for him

wears a lot of jewelry because he likes to fidget with it, and is a dedicated believer in wearing only gold. he's always afraid that he'll accidentally burn Remus if he's wearing silver jewelry, so he makes a point to only wear gold or copper or something similar

pierced his own ears, and also got his nipples pierced at a muggle piercing studio just to piss his parents off- even though they never found out

exclusively wears mismatched socks for no reason

is very gender nonconforming and is also probably genderfluid, he doesn't really care how he's perceived if that makes sense but feels more feminine and more masculine at different days or times

complains about little things but keeps bigger issues to himself. like Sirius will complain for an hour straight about how sore his back is from quidditch until everyone is begging him to shut up, and then turn around and neglect to tell anyone that his mom cooked him in a stew and fed him to a goblin or something (until he eventually breaks down about it)

gets angry really quickly and hates himself for it

wore a fake nose ring for years before actually getting it pierced

lowkey thinks bullying someone is a flirting tactic and when he's into someone he's a little mean and teasing towards them

Remus:

cant eat strong flavors in the morning such as fruits or sugary cereals bc it makes him uncomfortable or nauseous. only sticks to bland breakfast foods like eggs or toast when he first wakes up, but will eat more flavorful food later on

a tiny bit scared of the dark but won't admit it. he always keeps a nightlight nearby though

Remus gets bad migraines around the full moon and wears noise canceling headphones to help keep the loud sounds to a minimum

had a lisp and a crossbite at a young age but after a few years of dental work + speech practice its barely noticeable unless he's really upset (but he still has to be consciously aware of his lip movements nooo im not projecting...)

hates constricting clothes, has to be wearing baggy clothes or he feels like he's going insane

surprisingly good listener. he never plays the devils advocate, always gives good advice, and is overall a great person to vent to

can NOT sleep with his closet or bedroom door open it creeps him out sooo bad

this is going to sound a little insane but. in my head he sort of like. kisses with his nose. LET ME EXPLAIN i imagine him w like a slightly crooked nose and so whenever he kisses someone he always sort of? boops noses w them? bc his nose is like relatively big,,? and he just sort of does that??? idk it's just really adorable in my head

also adding onto that- he's a very gentle kisser. cups your face, rubs your back typa guy. definitely doesn't rush in

allergic to shellfish

one of those people who puts their entire soul in their notes app. he has lists, reminders, quotes, random pictures, information, and everything in between in his notes app. Remus is also the only one who can navigate through his notes as there are SO many and any normal person would go insane just from looking at all of it 💀

picks at his lips and nails until they bleed or peel

HATES when food touches on his plate- can't stand when food mixes and will often seperate food into little piles but then EATS MULTIPLE TYPES OF FOOD IN THE SAME BITE in an attempt to concoct like the perfect bite. like if he's eating idk chicken cutlets mashed potatoes and peas he can't have any of those touch on his plate or else it's disgusting but then he'll eat a piece of cutlet with mashed potatoes and peas on top in one bite??? idk maybe im projecting but this just seems like sum he'd do

very big on studying. he's smart, but if he doesn't study he absolutely blanks on tests and assignments so he always needs to have stuff memorized- he also takes extra notes for his friends so that they can copy it whenever they need

once he ties his laces on shoes, Remus never unties them and prefers to just shimmy in and out and fight for his life to put them on and take them off

Remus' ears get cold really easily so he wears earmuffs and a scarf often! his cheeks and nose also turn pink when he's cold and it's always very obvious and adorable

while he isn't a big fan of quidditch or sports in general, he truly enjoys supporting his friends and making sure they know that he's there! even if he has no real interest in it, he attends every single one of James' and Sirius' quidditch games

i love the headcanon that he befriends Regulus before any of the other marauders, and that he's in a study group with Reg, Lily, Mary, and Dorcas

Peter:

enjoys muggle comics, and has a HUGE comic book collection! Peter can also name nearly every superhero, and has soooo many comics memorized. like you ask him "what was the original comic in which *insert superhero* appeared" and he'll reply with the full comic title and author

you can't convince me that Peter wasn't a huge flannel person LIKE HE WAS THE TYPE OF KID TO HAVE A DIFFERENT COLORED FLANNEL SHIRT FOR EACH OUTFIT

huge gossip but in a good way. him and the girls all have a little gossip circle, and i looove the headcanon that out of all of the marauders, Peter is the most aware of all of his friends romantic endeavors. whether you ship wolfstar, jegulus, jily, dorlene, or anything else- Peter KNEW before even the people involved knew they liked eachother. always pretends to be surprised when people inform him of stuff like that as though he hadn't already known for two years or sum

i like to think Peter also played quidditch, but did it moreso to have fun with his friends rather than being super into the game. he liked it, but he only did it because his friends did

ridiculously good at chess, and holds that over Sirius' head allllll the time. probably also in his own little chess club or something similar

Peter is smart, but only when he applies himself. most of the time he's fine with being average, so he has decent grades, but certainly nothing outstanding. however, when he tries? he's very intelligent and can excel academically- he just doesn't feel like it

learned to braid Marlenes hair when they were younger, and then taught Sirius how to do it too! he'll also sometimes braid Sirius' hair for him if he's bored and needs something to do with his hands

unlike his friends, Peter isn't very confrontational and prefers to handle conflict with a softer approach. this often makes him take on the role of the peacekeeper in the sense that he communicates between both parties when his friends are fighting. that doesn't mean he can't stand up for himself, he just only does so as a last resort

Peter doesn't laugh, he GIGGLES. genuinely teehees when he's excited about something !!!

he was the one who suggested the name The Marauders, and originally did so as a joke, but then it stuck

very rarely curses, but between being friends with the marauders and such, he probably knows more curse words than the rest of his friends combined and sometimes when he's irritated he starts cursing up a STORM

chronic sweatpants wearer. orefers the material of his clothing over anything else, and if something is uncomfortable he simply won't wear it

i like the headcanon that Peter's queer awakening was actually both Frank Longbottom and Remus, but he didn't know it until years later. for Remus, it wasn't actually a crush, but moreso an "oh he's attractive. yea i'll think about that ltr" kind of moment yk? however, i do think he had a crush on Frank and that was also part of the reason he originally joined the quidditch team

Peter's favorite color would be yellow, and his favorite flowers are sunflowers!!! idk why, he just seems like a yellow kind of guy!!! i also feel like he'd like orange too- overall, he prefers warm colors to cool colors

Peter would listen to Nirvana, you can't tell me otherwise bc he WOULD !!!

he's kind to people regardless of their house. doesn't care if your a hufflepuff or a slytherin, a gryffindor or a ravenclaw, if you're nice, he's nice!! he's also always super sweet to first years who are new to the castle, and helps with giving directions (and telling those who purposely give wrong directions to piss off) for at least the first month of school every year

made friends with a lot of the portraits on the walls, and ended up gaining their favor and getting help with some pranks. i also think that he'd get along with most of the ghosts, and Moaning Myrtle had a crush on him in his third year and it was really awkward because he tried to be nice but she ended up taking it romantically and so she thought they were dating for like two whole weeks (James teased him mercilessly over this)

while Remus always keeps chocolate on him for others, Peter always keeps gummy bears on his person or nearby in case he sees someone upset

YIPPEEE I ACTUALLY WROTE SOMETHING!!!! i will def be doing a pt 2 with the valkyries (marlene mary n lily) and the slytherin skittles (barty evan dorcas regulus n pandora) so!! stay tuned !!!! hope u enjoyed and PLEPSOEELSLPSKSOSKD

PLEASE SEND IN MARAUDERS REQUESTS PLSPSLSPS

[randommultifandomrants]

Being a girl is: wanting to go to bed early but deciding to just get on tumblr/wattpad/Ao3 for a little bit and then end up finding a fic series that you really like and read until well past your usual bedtime then keeping on because it’s already past your bedtime. Then being mad when you wake up in the morning because you overslept your timer.

[thatboisus]

“english isn’t my first langua—“ say no more.

[aphrcdites]

the bond between a girl and their favorite fictional man is both an unstoppable force and an immovable object

[natti-ice]

18+ mdni

that reality check hitting after reading smut