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[thewriterghost]

hi lovely I hope you’re feeling better!!!! I was wondering if I could request something with poly!marauders where she’s like simmering with anxiety and isn’t having a panic attack but is sort of close bc she’s just really overwhelmed and the boys notice and try to calm her down and are just sweet <3

Thank you for requesting sweetheart!

cw: signs of anxiety

poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 1k words

You appear caught in a state of restlessness. You’re meant to be reading, but Remus hasn’t seen you turn a page in ages. Your eyes keep unfocusing, your knee bouncing underneath your blanket and your fingers toying absentmindedly with the corner of your page. 

Remus supposes your boyfriends haven’t done much to create a relaxing atmosphere in your home tonight. Earlier he’d let Sirius keep an eye on the stove while he minced garlic, and of course that had ended with you and James rushing to open every window near the kitchen to get the smoke alarm to turn off, and even once he’d traded Sirius’ help for James’ there’d been several near-misses with the kitchen knives and his reckless chopping. It also doesn’t help that James and Sirius are in one of their moods where listening to them talk is like watching a tennis match. Trying to keep up could give you whiplash, but luckily you don’t seem to be paying attention as they bicker about whether rugby or cricket is the rougher sport (Sirius is only trying to rile James; James clearly knows this, but he persists nonetheless). Still, it can’t make for nice background noise. 

Remus corners the page of his own book and reaches across the space between you, taking your hand. You look up with a smile, pleasantly surprised. 

“Alright, lovely?” he asks, fingers dancing up the length of your palm to your wrist. 

“I’m good,” you reply softly. “How’s your book?” 

“It’s off to a slow start,” Remus admits, “but I’m hoping it’ll pick up soon. How’s yours?” 

You look down at the book in your lap. He almost wonders if you’d forgotten it was there. “It’s not bad.” 

“Yeah?” He lets his fingers rest over the bump of your pulse, trying not to frown at its quick beat. “You haven’t seemed to be reading much.” 

By now your conversation has caught the attention of the other boys, James turning towards you and Sirius tilting his head to see around him. 

“Oh,” James says sympathetically, “is it not very good?” 

“No, it’s fine.” You look back down at your book, a bit sheepish. “I guess I’m just a little distracted.” 

Remus hums knowingly, stroking the back of your hand with his thumb. James’ brow furrows, but Sirius, true to form, asks outright, “Is something the matter?” 

You shake your head, seeming a bit perplexed yourself. “No,” you say, “I don’t know what my problem is.” 

“You seem a bit strung up,” Remus suggests gently. 

“Yeah, but” —you shrug, lips curving halfheartedly— “not for any good reason.” 

James makes a woeful pitying sound, wrapping his arms around your middle. “Sweetheart,” he laments, “do you think you might want a cuddle?” 

“Sure,” you agree, and your hand is removed from Remus’ as James pulls you into his lap, propping his chin on your shoulder with a pout, “but everything’s really fine, don’t worry.” 

Sirius leans his head on the couch cushion, looking at you with eyes sharp and contemplative. “What’s going through your head, pretty girl?” he asks. 

James covers your heart with a big hand, frowning at what he feels. You shrug. “I was just thinking about what I have to do tomorrow.” 

“You’ve been keeping busy lately,” Remus says. “Maybe you need to take some things off your plate.” 

A grimace is fixed upon your face before he’s finished talking. “It all has to get done, though,” you sigh. “No way around it.” 

Sirius and Remus exchange a look. “Maybe we can help,” Sirius says. 

You shake your head. “There’s nothing you can do,” you insist. “It’s not impossible, I’ve just been lazy and now it’s all piled up and I have to deal with it.” Your voice tenses as you lay it out, and your body with it. “It’s my problem. It’s not great, but I’ll get it done.” 

Sirius’ expression twitches into a frown at your increasingly agitated tone, and James gives you a firm squeeze, pressing a kiss into the side of your head. 

“Shh, angel, just slow down for a minute. You’re okay right now, aren’t you?” 

Some of the frustration slips from your expression. “I’m fine, I just—” 

“Then relax.” James’ voice is equal parts gentle and firm. “Take a deep breath.” 

You do. You close your eyes, and Remus can almost hear you counting as you inhale through your nose. James and Sirius, for probably the first time all evening, are silent. 

You stop breathing in. A small dent forms between your brows. 

“I can’t do it all the way,” you say, a slight vulnerability to your voice. 

Remus tries to make his low and sure to counter it. “That’s okay, it still counts. Just keep going, love. And maybe hear Sirius out.” 

Sirius very obviously fights the urge to gloat at the support, but he softens his preening into a lightly teasing look, narrowing his eyes at you playfully. “As I was saying, there have to be things we can make easier for you. What’s on your to-do list?” 

You take in another breath, and James makes a satisfied humming sound against your temple. “I mean, I really have to do laundry.” 

“Are you joking?” A grin splits Sirius’ face. “We can do that for you, baby, easy.” 

“And I have to finish my project,” you go on, as though determined to prove the impossibility of your tasks, “which will likely take all morning.” 

“I’ll be here tomorrow,” James reminds you. “Would it help if I made you breakfast so you don’t have to take the time?” 

You look surprised, head turning towards him. “Yeah,” you say. “That would be really helpful, actually.” 

“Stubborn thing.” Sirius pinches at your thigh, but Remus catches his hand before it can do any real damage. “Nothing we can do, huh?”

You duck your head sheepishly. Still, Remus can hear your smile when you say, “Sorry, you were right.” 

“It happens more often than you’d think, doll. Really astute of you to recognize it, though.”  

“For now,” Remus cuts in before Sirius can get to really gloating, “maybe it’s best to just try to relax, dove. Tomorrow’s problems will be manageable, there’s no sense in stressing yourself out tonight.” 

“Yeah,” you say, almost shyly. “Sorry, I wasn’t thinking properly.” 

“Don’t be sorry, baby,” James chides, tightening his hold on you. “It’s all good now, yeah?” 

“Yeah,” you admit. 

There’s a brief pause. 

“Sorry,” Sirius says, not sounding apologetic in the slightest, “I just want to hear it from your lips one more time. You said I was what?”

[thewriterghost]

hi!! ngl i’ve never actually requested anything so im kinda nervous to do so but if it’s possible, do you think you could write something along the lines of eddie munson with like an anxious reader? maybe she has a panic attack and he’s there to help in the aftermath or just an overall anxious person. i know you’ve written something similar with the marauders so i hope that this is okay for me to request. i love love love ur writing!

Thank you for requesting lovely <3

cw: aftermath of panic attack

Eddie Munson x fem!reader ♡ 642 words

Eddie’s rambling hasn’t stopped since you sat down, but it’s become background noise for you, like ocean sounds or the music they play in grocery stores. You know well enough how to get yourself through this. His hand on your back is a steady, if somewhat frantic, reassurance. 

“You okay?” Eddie asks, his rhythm slowing as you blow out a lungful of air, bending your head towards your knees. You hold up a weak thumbs-up, and it picks up again. “Shit, yeah, you’re okay, baby. You’ve got it.” 

You feel bad that this is Eddie’s first time dealing with you like this, though it’s nice to be in his trailer and not at the mall or in a restaurant or something. His couch is familiarly uncomfortable, lumpy in places and nearly flat in others, and the air smells like weed and grease, the electric fan Wayne brings out for the summer months whirring diligently in the corner. You’re glad Wayne’s not home now, though someone should probably be around to comfort Eddie after he’s done comforting you. 

“Anything I can do to help?” he asks again. “You want some water or something?” 

This time, you nod. Your boyfriend all but springs up from the couch, grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge and hustling it back to you like he’s training to be one of the NASCAR pit stop people. You take it from him, rubbing the condensation from the bottle on the back of your neck before taking a sip. The chill is grounding. You rest your head back on your knees.

“You feeling better, sweetheart?” Eddie grabs another water bottle from the fridge once he sees what you did with the first, holding it to your neck. “You seem better. Sounding less like Darth Vader.” 

You laugh a little, and he laughs back nervously. 

“Yeah,” you say, “it’s mostly better now.” 

He blows out a breath. “Phew, okay. Jesus. You’re a fucking champ, you know that?” 

“Thanks,” you chuckle. “Sorry I put you through that.” 

“I’m pretty sure I’m not the one who went through something just now, so consider your apology heard and nullified.” Eddie’s lips come down on the back of your head. “I’d tell you where to shove it, but I’m feeling kind of bad for you right now. Count your blessings.” 

“Oh, I’m counting them.” You smile down into the semi-dark valley between your legs and chest, taking one more deep breath in and out before lifting your head. “Okay, I’m good.” 

“Yeah?” As he pulls back to see you, your boyfriend doesn’t look so sure. His eyebrows are pulled up in the middle, freakishly huge eyes full of freakishly sweet worry. “Good enough for a hug?” 

You hum your assent, and in the next second you’re in his lap. Eddie goes all the way, curving his body over yours as his arms wrap protectively around your back and his cheek squishes into yours. 

“It scares me when you’re scared,” he admits. 

“Sorry.”

“No—goddamnit, what did we say about that? You’re lucky you’re cute, I swear—don’t be sorry. Obviously it’s not your fault, I’m just sorry that happened to you. It seemed really fucking shitty.” 

“It felt really fucking shitty,” you agree. “I’m wiped.” 

“Honestly? Me too.” Eddie chuckles. “Nap?” 

“Yes, please,” you say, but wriggle closer to him, preventing him from getting up. Eddie doesn’t seem to mind. He starts rubbing your back again, contemplative. 

“You wanna sleep here, or on the bed?” 

“Bed,” you answer immediately. 

“...right. But are you gonna get up and go to the bed?” 

You make a thoughtful humming sound, grasping him tighter. “Probably not. Maybe you could carry me?” 

A sigh, long and dramatic. “Yeah, maybe I could.” Eddie’s hands move to grip you more securely, and he grunts as he stands. “You’re seriously lucky you’re cute, trouble.” 

[thewriterghost]

He would never take those bracelets off 😭 now I kinda want a fic of counselor James and counselor reader how cute

Hi, I've lowkey been hoarding this for months because I wanted to wait until I felt summery enough, thank you for requesting!!

camp counselor!James x fem!reader ♡ 693 words

“Land ho, boys!” A familiar voice reaches you over the water. Your eyes are closed towards the sun, but you feel your lips twitch upward. “Thomas, if you don’t help Callum paddle you’ll fall behind, and the last one to shore has to buy me a popsicle after dinner. Hey, look, we’ve got a mermaid on our beach!” 

You turn your head to the side, squinting your eyes to see James and his cabin of boys paddling toward you in kayaks over the lake. You lift your hand in a lazy wave. 

“Oh, false alarm, it’s just y/n. Hi, y/n!” He raises an arm to wave back at you, wrist stacked with string bracelets made with care by small hands. You swear he’s got more from your own cabin than you have, but you don’t mind; James is a hero to most of the kids at camp, the goofy gentle giant who lets them ride on his shoulders when your manager isn’t looking and deals temporary tattoos out of his cabin during mealtimes. “Careful, Archie, mate, if she catches you rocking your kayak like that she’s going to hang you from the lifeguard stand by your toes.” The boys laugh, and James protests, “No, really! I’ve seen her do it, don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

You roll your eyes and close them again, turning your face back towards the sky. It’s not until you hear the shushing of kayaks against the coarse sand and a shadow falls over you that you say, without opening your eyes, “Spreading rumors about me again?” 

“They know better than to take me seriously.” James’ shadow moves as he sits beside you on the sand, and you turn your head again to see him. He’s looking over his shoulder at the boys, the lean muscles of his abdomen stretching and dusky skin shining with sweat in the afternoon sun. “Hey, whoever puts my kayak and paddle up, I’ll buy them a popsicle after dinner.” Shouts and bickering ensue, and James turns back around with a smile. “Where are your kids?” he asks you. 

“In arts and crafts,” you say. “Figured I’d catch a nap while they were busy.” 

He hums, setting his hands on the warm sand behind him and leaning back. “So, you didn’t just come here to see how fit I looked dragging a paddle through the water?” 

You know James is only playing, but embarrassment tingles down to your toes anyway. “Not this time, sorry.” 

“Mm, don’t believe you.” He shoots you a grin, and you look away under the guide of rolling your eyes. That thing is more glaring than the sun. “You coming to the bonfire tonight?” 

“Don’t we have to?” you ask. It’s the last night of this session, and camp always closes out with a bonfire and s’mores for the kids. 

“I mean the other bonfire.” At your blank look, James continues, looking rather too pleased to know something you don’t, “After the kid’s bonfire, when they’re all watching a movie in the cafeteria, some of the counselors are planning to go out into the woods and have a grown-up’s bonfire.” 

You giggle. “Grown-ups? What are we, twelve?”

James bobs his head. “And we’re gonna have s’mores, and tell ghost stories, and maybe play truth or dare,” he says in an exaggeratedly animated tone. “It’s gonna be super cool.” 

“It sounds super cool,” you agree, laughing. “I’ll be there.” 

“Excellent.” James casts a look over his shoulder and starts standing up. “I should get back to my kids before they injure each other.” 

You check the time and sigh. “Yeah, me too.” 

“Want a hand?” 

You reach up and James takes your hands in his, hauling you upright. Your head lightens once you’re vertical, a combination of your sun-warmed skin and James’ touch making you woozy. 

“See you later?” he asks, releasing your hands and starting to back away as the shouting behind him grows more boisterous. “I’ll come find you in the cafeteria, we can walk together.” 

“That’d be great, thanks.” You start walking away, too, ignoring the pleasant buzzing in your chest. “I wouldn’t miss it.” 

[thewriterghost]

hi!! could you write shy!reader where Eddie bumps into the new kid at school and she gets hurt? I’m a sucker when it comes to Eddie doting on people 🙈

i tried to be so normal about this request but then proceeded to write 2k words for it so... hope you like it lol :D — the hawkins high freak takes the new girl under his wing after they run into each other. literally. (shy!r, meet ugly-ish, hurt/comfort, 2.2k)

You clutch a paper schedule in a pair of anxious hands, squinting to see through the scribbles there. Three boys in bright green lettermans made a total mess of it — writing directions in chicken scratch and doodling a sloppy map of the school over your classes. They said they were helping you, but really they’ve just turned you all around.

Fallen leaves crunchbeneath your feet as you walk past the vacant football field. West of the bleachers and down the dirt trail, the stranger with a harsh jawline and quaffed blonde hair told you. His directions lead you directly to a half-decrepit building in the thick of the woods. A strange spot for a biology lab.

You’re trying to make sense of the scrawled notes on your syllabus — eyes narrowed, and chin tilted downward — when you run into something tall and firm. You don’t hit the warm body hard enough to fall, but stumble back in fear enough to slip on the dewy grass. Like a cartoon character and a banana peel, you land comically on your ass.

“Shit. Sorry,” the towering stranger grimaces. “Didn’t see you there.”

Your wrists start to sting, burdened with the weight of catching your fall. “It’s okay…” you tell him anyway. ‘Cause everything’s always okay. Even when it isn’t. 

A ringed hand enters your vision then — lanky, pale, and tattooed. “Here. Let me help you up.”

“It’s okay,” you dismiss with a shake of your head. “I got it.”

Your jaw clenches tight as you rise on your feet. The slippery mud threatens to pull you down again. Your wrists throb with a dull and distant ache. You stand, despite all that, before the stranger you’d stumbled into the back of. 

Eddie watches you wipe your dirt-covered palms together with a lopsided smile tugging at his mouth. He doesn’t have a clue who you are, but he’s getting a few ideas now. You’re a strong, stubborn, and shy little thing. Pretty, too. 

“I didn’t hurt you, did I?” he cautions with his palms spread awkwardly in front of him. He wants to make sure you’re alright, but he doesn’t want to make you uncomfortable. Strong, stubborn, shy, and definitely skittish, he thinks to himself.

You shake your head again, finally glancing at the boy looming before you. His curls are dark and untamed, billowing in the early spring breeze. His deep chocolate eyes match the color of the frizzy strands — both equally as wild as the smile he looks at you with.

Your breath catches suddenly in your throat. You hadn’t expected to bump into him, of course, but you expected even less for him to be so pretty.

“I’m—”

“Don’t say okay,” he interjects before you can start. His plush lips quirk in a genuine smile a second later, to show he’s only joking.

You swallow hard, still hopelessly trying to rid the mud from your aching palms. “I’m… I’m— I’m fine.”

The boy scoffs a faint laugh. “Here. Let me see.”

He takes your wrists in his hands before you can protest. His fingers are long, gentle, and strangely warm as he brushes the mud off your scrapped skin — hardly flinching when it dirties his own. 

He wipes his palms on his jeans after, never minding how it stains the denim. Then he reaches a leather-clad arm behind you and plucks a leaf gently from your hair. He flicks it to the ground again.

“There,” he grins. “Good as new.”

“Thanks…” you sigh, voice wavering from a reason you can’t name.

“Why haven’t I seen you around before?”

“‘Cause I’m… I’m new.”

“Explains why you’re all the way out here,” he jokes. Most people only come around this side of the football field to buy weed off him, and you don’t exactly seem like the type. His chocolate eyes narrow. “You lost?”

You shift on your feet, feeling suddenly very silly about the whole thing. You’ve got to be a special kind of stupid to take advice from a bunch of jocks and hardly bat an eye when they lead you in the exact opposite direction. You’re too trusting for your own good. It’s embarrassing.

“I was, uh— I was just trying to follow this map, but…” you wave the paper in your clammy hand. “I think it just made me more lost.”

Eddie reaches out a ringed hand and takes the schedule from you when you hand it over. His face scrunches softly together as he squints at the sloppy scribbles. You can’t tell if he’s confused or if he needs glasses. Maybe both.

He can hardly make sense of the directions. And the map was designed in a very obvious attempt to confuse you — the sweet, shy girl who’s never stepped foot here before. Something redhot simmers in his chest ‘cause he can’t imagine doing this to someone. Finding someone who obviously needs help and doing them over for a couple measly laughs.

It’s got Jason Carver and the Dick Brigade written all over it. Literally.

“Who gave this to you?” he asks anyway, just to be sure.

You blink up at him with a pair of doe eyes, gaze glimmering with innocence. “Um… A couple of basketball players, I think. They were wearing lettermans, so…”

“Fucking Carver,” the boy grumbles under his breath.

“What?”

“Nothing…” he sighs. “Here. C’mon. Let’s go.” 

“Where— Where are we…” you mutter in a mousy voice, trailing off when he stomps past you. You get a faint whiff of floral shampoo and woodsy cologne as he goes. Less inclined to stay alone in the unfamiliar forest, you decide to follow behind him. “O-Okay…”

You fight to keep up with his considerably longer strides as the stranger leads you back towards the school. His dark eyes flit over your schedule, squinting to see past the messy lettering covering the typeface. 

“No point in making it to your third period,” he announces suddenly, swinging the heavy metal door open with a ringed hand. The rusted hinges squeak in protest when he holds it open for you with his foot. You slide in past him. He walks on ahead of you again, letting the thing slam shut behind him.

“Why?” you ask the back of him, voice wavering.

“‘Cause you’re already fifteen minutes late. And take it from me— Mr. Kaminsky hates when people are late,” Eddie tells you, flashing you a stern look over his shoulder. “Trust me. I learned that the hard way.”

Your brows pinch as your face swirls with a distant panic. You couldn’t conceal your worry if you tried. The gravity of it all hits you, then — the fact that you’re following a stranger you ran into (in the most literal sense of the phrase), who’d previously been half-hidden away in the forest behind the school.

It’s all a bit odd when you think about it. This. Him. You. 

But this strange boy, dripping in silver and all black, is the very first person to show you an ounce of kindness all day. You don’t know why you’re following him so blindly — only that you don’t mind it as much as you should.

“Okay. So. Uh… Where are we— Where are we going, then?” you squeak behind him.

“Right here,” he answers, stopping short in the middle of the hallway. 

Still a few paces back, you don’t hopelessly bump into the back of him like you did before. You watch with wide and curious eyes as he wraps a pale hand around a rusted door knob. The heavy wooden entrance squeals when he opens it.

“Welcome to my humble abode,” the boy jokes with a crooked grin. Everything about the pink expression glitters with mischief. He flicks on the light switch, letting the flourescent lights buzz on in protest. “Well, not abode— I don’t live here, but… You get it.”

The room smells overwhelmingly teenage boy. A mixture of cologne, sweet soda, and sweat. Most of the chairs have been stacked on top of each other and pushed to the edge of the room to make space for the long wooden table in the center. Binders, notebooks, and miscellaneous figurines sit scattered on a gameboard.

“Is that D&D?” you wonder quietly.

Eddie lights up at the question. “You play?” he asks as he saunters to the desk shoved in the very back corner of the room.

His excitement makes you regret your answer. 

“No…” you waver, then quickly follow. “But I’ve— I’ve heard about it.”

“I’m president of the Hellfire club,” he tells you, nodding to the poster on the wall. The demon in the center of it isn’t nearly as intimidating when you can tell it’s handmade. “You should join.”

The boy eyes you expectantly as he rounds the metal desk. You shift your weight on your feet and wring your clammy hands together. He tilts his chin to his chest and peers at you from underneath his lashes. “Think about it?” he presses.

You nod once. “Sure.”

He ducks down then, out of view behind the bulky desk. You stand awkwardly in place while the boy rummages through the drawers. “Ah, here we go…” you hear him murmur after a few moments — followed by a dull thud when he bangs his head. “Shit!” he swears under his breath before rising to his feet again.

You hide your smile behind your scrapped palm as he walks back over to you. His cheeks glow faintly pink as he rubs the crown of his head with his hand — the one not clutching a first-aid kit. “Here. Shit down. Let me look at your hands,” he urges, still worried about you despite his throbbing skull.

You shake your head rapidly in response. You’re not used to being doted on like this — or at all, really — but especially not from a metalhead, wild-haired, pretty-faced stranger. “No. I’m— I’m okay.”

His chocolate eyes go wide and softly stern. They glimmer playfully down at you as his brows raise behind his fluffy bangs. “What we’d just talk about?” he teases.

You swallow down the rest of your protests. “Right…”

You sit in the chair adjacent to the one at the head of the table. The cheap plastic is a stark contrast to the heavy wooden throne the stranger descends upon — with a sort of ease that tells you he sits there often.

He digs into the opened first-aid kit and pulls out a bandaid for you. He fumbles with the packaging for a moment before ripping it open with his teeth. 

“It’s okay not to be okay, you know?” he tells you, mostly muffled until he spits out the paper in his mouth. It lands on the floor at his feet, but he doesn’t seem inclined to pick it up. “Tell me I’m a shithead who needs to watch where he’s going. I know that’s what you’re thinking.”

Your face screws in offense. “I wasn’t—”

“I’m teasing,” he interjects softly, peering at you with a pair of button eyes. “Even though I am a shithead who needs to watch where he’s going.” He takes your palm between his warm and gently calloused ones. He smooths the large bandage over the raging scrape below your thumb with an impossibly delicate touch. “I’m sorry about that, by the way. Again.”

“It was my fault,” you murmur, gaze averted to the boy’s kind hands — at the six tiny bats tattoed in the junction of his thumb and forefinger. “You don’t have to apologize. It’s just a scrape, anyway, I can handle it.”

“Agree to disagree,” the boy says with a lopsided smile, brushing his thumb over the bandage to smooth it out. He gives your fingers a small squeeze before he parts from you. “There you good. Good as new.”

Your hands buzz with the longing to feel him again. You bring both of them to your lap, wrenching your fingers into a knot and hoping your face doesn’t look as hot as it feels. “Thank you…” you murmur, trailing off when you realize you don’t know the kind stranger’s name.

“Eddie,” he finishes for you.

“…Eddie.”

“You can stay in here with me if you want,” he offers with a nonchalant shrug — trying to be cool despite his thundering heart. “Third period’ll be over in, like, twenty minutes. I can walk you to your next class— you know, make sure all the freaks leave you alone.”

You purse your lips to the side of your mouth in attempts to hide the beam tugging there. It only halfway works. “That’d be great,” you tell him in a mousy voice. “Thank you…”

Eddie swallows hard and leans forward again. You can smell the nicotine on his breath and the musky cologne on his neck. His face hardens into a gently solemn look. 

“And don’t… Don’t hang around Jason Carver and his goons anymore, okay?” he tells you, sounding like he’s half-pleading. “Those assholes that fucked with your schedule? They’re bad news.”

Feeling like he must know this better than anyone else, you nod firmly in response. “Okay,” you answer, though it comes out in a whisper when the word gets caught in your throat. Something about having Eddie to you is making your body go all funny. It’s weird.

“Stick with me, okay?” the boy smiles, pink and pretty and petaled, as he slouches back onto his throne again. “I’ll take care of you.”

[thewriterghost]

Hiiii! I have a request, poly!marauders x animagus!fem reader (you decide what type of animal) and everytime it’s full moon she turn into an animagus and watches hboyfriends (kinda lurks around secretly) as they take care of Remus. The thing is they don’t know that she’s an animagus, and what would their reaction be when they found out?

(You’re an amazing writer and your fics makes my day🫶🏻)

this was so sweet - thanks for your request and for your patience in me getting this to you!

please note: my requests are currently closed as I finish exams and work through the requests that I currently have.

poly!marauders x fem!reader who's a secret animagus

Prongs was very confused.

This was the third moon in a row that he, Padfoot, Wormtail, and Moony had been romping through the woods when Moony seemed to get caught up on something.

He wasn’t sure what had changed; they always followed the same routine: transform in the shack, let Moony out, follow their trail where they can run (and roll, in Moony & Padfoots case) down a large hill, chase each other along the river bank, drink from the edge of the Black Lake, and slowly make their way back to the shack for Moony’s transformation. 

Except, once again, they seemed to be caught up under this unassuming tree.

Prongs looked to his canine companion who offered what he could only assume as a doggy shoulder shrug as Moony yipped and stood on his hind legs in an attempt to see through the lowest bows of the tree.

The first time this happened, Moony almost took one of Padfoot’s legs off for trying to encourage him to leave the tree. 

The second time, Moony could only be convinced to leave as his bones actually started stretching and reorganising themselves as the transformation started.

What was even stranger, though? After both of those moons, Remus woke up in a panic asking where you were and if you were ‘okay’.

It took Sirius shifting back into Padfoot and laying across Remus’ chest in order to provide grounding pressure to his chest before they could get him to calm back down and convince him that you were safe.

James hated seeing this side of Remus; the side of him that none of them had seen since before the Marauders told him that they knew his secret. He felt horribly paranoid, reclusive, and entirely too guilty. 

Guilty for daring to love you even though he felt you deserved better. Guilty for allowing you to love a werewolf. Guilty for not telling you that you were in love with a werewolf. And guilty for lying to you about it every month.

Sirius and James hated the secrecy too - but it wasn’t their secret to tell. They loved you, but they couldn’t take away Remus’ autonomy when it came to his infliction.

But, tonight - the third moon in a row of this nonsense from Moony - and Prongs had had it.

Prongs bowed his head and scooped Wormtail up into his antlers, hoisting him up to the lowest branch of this damned tree Moony was fucking obsessed with and encouraged him to investigate. 

Moony let out a little whine and a huff as he sat and watched the little rat disappear through the bows of the grand pine. 

A squeak alerted the two animagi and one werewolf to trouble when the top branches began to move and out flew a large black crow with a rat trapped in its talons. 

The crow gently glided to the ground about ten feet away from the trio and let go of the rat who quickly ran up Prong’s leg and situated himself in the safety of his antlers. 

Padfoot - ever protective of his pack of misfit toys animals - began stalking toward the offending bird, sure that Moony was just as excited as he was about this impromptu hunt. It wasn’t their favourite - it was not a rabbit - but it would do. 

However, much to both Padfoot and Prongs’ surprise, Moony quickly leapt in front of the crow and grumbled warningly at Padfoot, going so far as to bare his teeth at his pack member. 

Padfoot tilted his head in confusion at Moony as if perhaps the situation would make more sense at a 45 degree angle, but it appeared that it made no difference when Pads ultimately huffed and turned back towards Prongs. 

Prongs wanted to laugh - but deer stags couldn’t do that - so he let out a ‘bleat’ as the crow flew above Padfoot and teasingly landed on his head.

Padfoot, ready for a fight, turned to nip at the bird who simply jumped back up and hovered just out of reach of the dog.

Prongs was suddenly even more confused.

What crow willingly releases a plump, likely juicy, rat from its talons instead of enjoying it as their meal? And what crow willingly teases a large werewolf sized dog in front of his werewolf friend? 

This one, apparently.

And Moony - usually very possessive and exclusionary when it came to the other creatures they came across in the Forbidden Forest - seemed not only accepting of this new addition, but really quite pleased with it. 

But it was time to go if Moony’s flinches and groaning was any indication; the transformation would happen soon. 

Padfoot moved towards Moony and affectionately nudged him with his shoulder, hoping to encourage him towards the Shrieking Shack. 

Moony seemed to understand that he ought to go, but couldn’t bring himself to leave without his newest friend.

Somehow - to Prongs’ absolute astonishment - the crow seemed to understand what the hold up was and flew over to situate itself on Prongs’ antler.

Prongs - far too tired after a night full of romping with a werewolf directly after a full day of classes - acquiesced to being a glorified chauffeur for his smaller friends and led the way to the shack. 

The crow sat quietly on the top of the old fireplace as the Marauders went about business as usual. 

Padfoot convinced Moony to curl up on the bed so he would wake up at least semi-comfortably, whilst Prongs used his antlers to encourage a blanket up around Moony so he wouldn’t wake up completely nude, and Peter ran back towards the castle to give the lovers some privacy. 

Once Moony returned fully to Remus, Prongs and Padfoot took a moment to shift back to their own human forms and started up on the healing process, completely forgetting about their interloper.

With a groan, Remus came to after James encouraged healing potion down his throat.

“I’m sorry, Moons.” He apologised in a whisper as he handed the empty vial to Sirius’ waiting hand.

“Where is she?” Remus croaked. 

“Where’s who, babe?” Sirius asked, sharing a concerned glance with James. 

Remus choked in his attempt to respond and both boys began shushing him. “Dovey.” He finally got out.

“She’s at the castle, Moons…she’s safe.” James placated.

“No.” Remus argued. “She was there.”

James turned to see if Sirius had any idea how to handle their boyfriend’s insanity when he spotted it behind Sirius.

The crow.

“You.” He whispered in awe, causing Sirius to whip his head around.

The crow hopped down from the mantle of the fireplace and landed gracefully on the floor before it spun and grew back into you.

“Dovey.” Remus groaned. James turned to see there were tears in Remus’ eyes, though he knew not what for. 

“Hiya Moons.” You answered shyly, shooting guilty glances at Sirius who was still staring at you in shock and to James who was looking frantically between you and Remus.

“It’s been you?” James asked incredulously.

“How long have you known?” Remus asked at the same time.

You smiled sadly at Remus and knelt down beside him. “Long enough to become an animagi?”

“You sneaky little witch.” Sirius finally let out with a breath, sitting down unceremoniously at the foot of the bed to look at you.

“I’m sorry. Please don’t be mad.” You begged quickly; eyes darting nervously between your three boyfriends.

“You’re worried about us being mad?” Sirius asked disbelievingly. 

“Angel, you’ve caught us sneaking around and lying to you.” James teased with a certain level of sincerity, nudging you with his shoulder. 

“Do you hate me?” Remus whispered, eyes still trained steadfast on you.

You looked at him like he had grown three heads.

“Remus, I love you. That’s why I’m here.” You pressed severely. 

Remus laughed out a sob and covered his face with his hands. 

“I’m sorry, but what the fuck were you thinking?” Sirius asked suddenly.

“What?” You responded warily.

“Casually inserting yourself into a werewolf pack! What would you have done if Moony hated you?” He barked, flinging a hand towards Remus’ general direction.

You scoffed derisively and shot Remus a look like ‘can you believe this guy?’ “I’m impossible not to love, Sirius. Do keep up.”

Your cheek earned you a scoff before Sirius was launching himself at you and the two of you fell to the floor, disturbing layers of dust and causing the particles to dance through the air. 

“You’re so lucky you're cute.” Sirius said in faux contempt as he peppered your jaw and neck with kisses. 

James sighed in relief as he looked back over at Remus who was watching the two of you with a look so full of fondness, James was surprised he couldn’t see hearts pouring out of his eyes.

“You okay, Rem?” James asked him quietly, pulling one of his hands to his mouth and pressing a kiss to his palm.

“Perfect, Jamie. Just perfect.” Remus said with a content smile and a single happy tear trailing down his cheek.

James was more than inclined to agree.

[thewriterghost]

u ever read a fanfic so good that you want. fanfic of the fanfic

[thewriterghost]

Hi! Can I please request a poly!mauraders or poly!wolfstar (whatever you prefer I don't mind!) where the fem!reader is a seer and she just randomly had a vision in the future where they live a happy domestic life (with kids) and she got so flustered and the boys find it adorable and maybe tease her playfully about it?

I absolutely love your blog and writing I get so happy when you post😭 💗 Have a good day!

okay, honestly? I never imagined even writing about a Seer character nor liking it this much!! when my requests open up again you guys are going to have to request more of this kind of character, I'm obsessed. Thank you for the love, dolly!!!

~please note: my requests are currently closed as I work through older ones~

poly!marauders x fem!reader who is a Seer

CW: mentions of children and pregnancy

You stirred the honey into your tea for far longer than was strictly necessary as you replayed your latest Sight through your head.

Life hadn’t always been easy being a Seer – even worse having come from a muggle family who took your specific gift to be a sure sign of the devil. Thankfully, things started to make a little more sense (at least for yourself) when you received your Hogwarts acceptance letter at eleven. 

However, it appeared that the ability of Sight was not easily accepted in the wizarding world either.

You were fortunate enough to See that you’d eventually meet someone who understood what it was like to be shunned by the very world who created you; and with that boy would come two others who would become some of the most important figures in your life.  

Of course, futures can always change and nothing is ever set in stone; people change their minds all of the time and set out a different course of action. Understanding this doesn’t always make the Sight’s any less jarring, however. 

You really shouldn’t be as shaken up about your Sight as you currently were, seeing as there have been times you’ve literally Seen death, violence, and accidents. This Sight, for all intents and purposes, was really rather sweet.

“Hey, hey! Hang on. We’re gonna let mummy rest, okay?” You heard Remus whisper just outside the door to your bedroom. Though his words were chiding, you could hear the smile laced into his tone.

“But I wanna give her a hug!” A little voice whined in protest.

Remus chuckled and you heard him press a kiss – you could only imagine it was to the child’s hair.

“You guys can come in, Moons.” You called; voice rough from disuse as you sat up in bed. Seemingly on their own volition, your hands migrated to rest protectively over your ever-growing bump.

“Mama!” A little voice squealed as they launched themselves up onto the bed and crawled their way over to you.

“Did I hear you giving your Da a hard time out there?” You teasingly chided, but you couldn’t help the beaming smile you shot at your little black haired, grey eyed child. 

“I only wanted to give Mama a hug.” They pouted, shooting you puppy dog eyes you knew they could have only learned from the likes of James Potter.

“Oof, cariad; you’ve been spending too much time with Daddy it appears.” Remus commented, clearly agreeing with your internal dialogue.

“Have not!” The child shouted as James appeared and leaned against the door frame muttering “I resent that.”

“Well? Can I have my hug then, sweetheart?” You asked, to which the child all too willingly obliged, launching themselves at your torso.

“Oi! Easy there little lion; you’re squishing your little brother or sister there!” Remus scolded, gently pulling the child off your form.

“Sorry baby.” The child apologized quickly, planting a conciliatory kiss to your bump before leaping from the bed and careening out of the room.

“I can’t believe we’re going to have two of those, soon.” Remus commented as he watched the child disappear from his sight.

“You better hope the next one’s yours, Moons.” James chuckled as he pat Remus’ bum before making his way to your bedside to press a kiss into your hair. 

“Why me?” Remus asked through a laugh.

“Well, we’ve got a Sirius carbon copy, and if the very next one is a mini-James!? You might as well check us all into the Janus Thickey Ward at St. Mungo’s right now.”

“You don’t want a little mini-Prongs running around?” Remus asked with a cheeky smile as he stepped up behind James and wrapped his arms around his middle, nuzzling into his neck.

“Oh, I’d love a mini-Prongs. But I’d also love a mini-Moony.” James admitted, and even though he was blushing he beamed a proud smile.

“Any child that comes from our sweet, beautiful wife will be perfect.” Sirius commented from the door, his little doppelgänger propped up on his hip looking very odd in all their colours and general toddler mess against Sirius who was still in his smart work attire. 

So, you see? It really was a lovely Sight. But you couldn’t seem to shake the overwhelming anxiety that had settled into the pit of your stomach. 

Marriage? Children!?

Pardon the pun but you truly did not see that coming. 

You knew James loved kids and loved the idea of having a family of his own one day, but he was also so incredibly happy with the partners he found in the three of you that he would have been happy either way.

Sirius was always staunchly against children. “This line of assholes needs to end.” He’d say. And when James asked if Sirius would be able to love a child if it wasn’t a Black biologically, he hesitated and said, “I’m worried I’ll be like my dad.”

And Remus; sweet, sensitive Remus seemed so heartbroken to admit that he “didn’t want to curse a child to a life with a werewolf for a father”.

You hadn’t ever really minded too much either way. And so, you figured that was that; the four of you just wouldn’t have kids.

“What’s that look for dollface?” Sirius commented as he popped a piece of bacon into his mouth.

“Hm?” You asked, startled out of your reverie.

“You’ve been stirring your tea for ages, dove. I’m sure it’s likely cold by now.” Remus explained, gently shaking your shoulder as he walked behind you to retrieve the toast that just popped.

“Oh.” You said dumbly, bringing the cup to your lips and sipping from your now lukewarm tea.

“I think someone Saw something and isn’t telling her boyfriends.” James sing-songed from his place across from you, correctly noticing your tells and causing you to scowl.

“The audacity.” Sirius squawked, clutching at his non-existent pearls. 

Remus, always much more understanding and empathetic to your strife than the other two, bent over your chair and hugged you from behind. “Is everything okay, dovey?” He murmured against your chin.

You let out a breath and hummed in the affirmative. “Is everyone okay?” He asked again.

“Yeah, no. Everyone was safe and happy. We’re okay.” You assured him, not wanting to cause any undue worry for your werewolf boyfriend. His biggest fear was that one day you would See him – The Wolf – hurting someone, hurting them. 

“Wait!” James shouted as he slammed his cup down a little too roughly, causing his plate and silverware to rattle. “We didn’t break up, did we!?”

“No!” You shouted back, laughing at the boy’s antics. “Jamie, honest. Everything was fine, things were good.”

“Well, you don’t sound convinced.” James countered.

“If it was fine and things were good, why won’t you tell us?” Sirius argued. His teasing smile fell when your eyes filled with tears, and you looked down to your lap.

“Whoa, hey.” Sirius commented, pulling his chair over so his knees knocked against yours as he turned your chair to face him. “I’m sorry, dolly. What’s up, hm? What happened?”

You laughed miserably at yourself as you wiped tears from your eyes. “It was fine! Honest, I don’t know why I’m like this.”

James groaned as if seeing you upset was causing him physical pain. “What did you See, angel. Please.” He practically begged.

You shook your head in exasperation and tried to sober up your emotions. “We were married with a child, another on the way.”

The only sound in the room was the ticking of the clock on the wall; you had literally sucked the air right out of the room (and apparently from your boyfriends’ lungs). 

“Married?” James whispered in awe.

“With children?” Sirius added dumbfoundedly.

You let out a humourless chuckle and stood from your seat, gathering your plate and cup to bring to the sink. You stepped around Remus who seemed to be frozen in shock. 

“Sit down, Moony.” You ordered gently after you disposed of your plate, moving to guide him by his shoulders to your since vacated spot when he turned on you.

“Was it the child!?” He asked urgently, eyes wild with fear.

“What?”

“Is the child okay? Did something happen to them!? Were they hurt?” He pressed. 'Did I hurt them?' went unsaid but was heard loud and clear.

“They were fine. They were happy, loved.” You said gently.

He seemed to relax and allowed you to guide him to the table.

“I don’t understand, then.” James admitted, taking one of Remus’ hands in his. “Why didn’t you want to tell us?”

You felt your eyebrows furrow as you considered him. “I just...sort of thought that was out of the question for us, you know?”

“Do you not want to have kids with us?” Sirius asked, suddenly sounding far more fragile than you ever remember.

“What? I... that’s not it at all! I was under the impression you didn’t want kids.” You accused.

Sirius’ head moved back and forth in a ‘so-so’ gesture as he looked to Remus and James. “I’d have your kids.”

You shook your head in confusion. “What!?”

“Well...I love all of you, and you would all make wonderful children. I’d...I’d have your children.” He clarified.

Not at all helpful when the child was clearly his.

“It was mine, wasn’t it?” Sirius asked at your silence. You nodded your head yes. “Was I... was I nice to them?”

You couldn’t help but smile, both at the vulnerability of Sirius in this moment and at the memory itself.

“Yes, you were. They were very loved, clearly.”

Sirius smiled at that.

“It was mostly Moony-centric though.” You added.

Remus turned to you quickly at that. “Me?” He asked breathlessly, eyes red rimmed. 

You hummed in agreement. “You were trying to convince them to let me sleep. They got their way in the end.”

James scoffed. “Typical Moony – total pushover.”

Remus turned to him with a bemused smile. “That’s not fair, you are far more of a pushover than me.”

“They were using Jamie’s puppy dog eyes, Rem. You can’t be held accountable.” You joked. 

All three men turned to look at you then, determination painting their features.

“I want to see.” Sirius demanded.

“I’ll go get the pensieve!” James called as he took off out of the room. 

Remus couldn’t seem to control himself any longer and roughly pulled you into his lap. “Did you make me a dad?” he murmured into the side of your head.

Your cheeks burned furiously at the insinuation. “I believe the correct term was ‘Da’.”

“HURRY UP PRONGS!” Remus hollered over your head, clearly excited to see what you had seen.

“I can’t believe you weren’t going to tell me I was a father, Y/N.” Sirius jokingly chided, pinching your thigh in reprimand. Remus quickly shifted you onto his other thigh and away from Sirius’ fingers.

“Oi! Be nice to our darlin’ girl, Pads. She gives you children.” Remus spat. Sirius seemed to melt slightly at that.

The all pulled out of the pensieve at the same time a little breathless and spun quickly to look at you.

“Dovey!” Remus shouted.

“You looked fuckin’ amazing! Like a goddess.” James cheered, moving to pick you up out of your seat on the sofa and maneuver you onto his lap.

“I love them so much.” Remus murmured staring at nothing in particular. “Oh my gods, I think...I think I have my mum’s old knitting magazines. We should knit them some little booties.” But the rest of Remus’ ramblings were cut off as he walked down the hall to look for said magazines. 

“We don’t have kids yet, please don’t take up knitting!” You shouted after him, but James kept you planted in his lap.

“I’m really a dad?” Sirius asked in disbelief, a shocked smile playing at the corners of his lips. 

“A hot one too.” James said with a wink. The flirting seemed to shake him from his thoughts as he turned a cheeky smirk in James’ direction.

“Well obviously babes, that was never up for debate.”

“I found them!” you heard Remus call, his voice muffled from no doubt deep within the crawlspace under the stairs.

“Oh gods. I’m going to have more of you all to look after.” You groaned miserably, falling limp out of James’ lap as he and Sirius gasped in faux outrage and attacked you with tickles and kisses to “take it back!”

[thewriterghost]

James and Sirius and Remus and Lily and *takes a dramatic breath* you?

this one's for you @enamoredwithbella, thanks for sorting this idea out with me @unstablereader

poly!Marauders + Lily x shy!reader who is so smitten with them

CW: fem!reader, reader has hair long enough to be played with, reader is in Hufflepuff, swearing, consent because it's sexy AF

This was obviously a bad idea.

You’re not even sure how your friends managed to convince you to attend the Gryffindor party, but you swore to every deity it would never happen again.

There were too many people (most of whom you’d never spoken to before), it was too loud (songs you didn’t particularly care for), and the fifteenth time someone bumped into you nearly sent you over the edge.

“Whoa there, sweetheart.” A low voice commented as an arm quickly righted you from your nearly horizontal position. “Y’alright?”

You looked up to see the face of none other than Gryffindor quidditch captain James Potter beaming down at you.

You were ashamed of yourself for the way that smile made you feel.

“Erm, yup! Thanks.” You squeaked, quickly freeing yourself from James’ grasp so fast that you nearly knocked someone else over in your attempt at creating distance between you and the Headboy.

It wasn’t that you didn’t like James. On the contrary; you were rather smitten with him.

Him and his partners - which was nothing short of dense in simple terms.

But you couldn’t help the way you blushed when he held the doors open for you as you walked into classes, or the friendly smile and wave he’d shoot at you when he saw you on Prefect rounds. 

You sort of wished he’d stop being so bloody nice to you; maybe then you’d be able to get over this crush that was never going to amount to anything.

But James was taken; three times over. 

And what a sodding group they were.

Heart Throb of Hogwarts™ Sirius Black in his effortless style, his devil may care attitude, and his insatiable flirting. Being noticed by Sirius felt like your favourite rockstar singing a song written just for you. 

And don’t even get you started on the enigma that is Remus Lupin; the Cassanova of Gryffindor tower. Everyone in your year (and likely the years below you) had at some point or another crushed hard on the quiet Marauder; but it really couldn’t be helped. He was tall, he was handsome, he was kind, and though he was far more quiet than his counterparts, the quips he shared with you never ceased to reduce you to a fit of laughter.

And gods, was Lily Evans ever beautiful. She was the total package; she was funny, outgoing, smart, and stunning. Looking at her even now with her long auburn hair as she threw her head back in laughter; so open and care free in her actions. You weren’t sure if you wanted to be her or being underneath-

No.

No. That was not a nice thing to think about someone who was in a committed relationship.

You let out a sigh as you zoned back into the fact that James still had one of his hands on your elbow and was smiling curiously at you. 

“Thanks for the save! I really owe you one.” You chuckled awkwardly and nearly took out one of the Prewett twins in your haste to leave Potter’s vicinity. 

Unfortunately, trouble seemed to be following you.

And by trouble, you meant Sirius Black.

“Damn, Hufflepuff!” He cheered as he moved a sultry gaze up and down your body appreciatively. “Give us a spin, dollface.”

You felt all the blood in your body migrate to your cheeks as you fought to keep your mouth from falling open.

Lily, the beautiful angel (or the evil temptress, depending on how you looked at it), swatted at Sirius from her perch on the arm of the chair her boyfriend was currently occupying.

“Down boy; you’re going to scare her away.” She teased with a smirk as she winked at you. 

You felt momentarily grateful for her.

And then she spoke again.

“Then none of us will get to look at her.”

Fucking Helga, was it hot in here? They needed to open more windows; preferably one you could launch yourself out of right now, thank you very much. 

“That’d be such a shame, really. Sorry doll, you don’t gotta spin - no one else here deserves to appreciate such a view.”

“Okay.” You squeaked and turned in search of your friends.

You know what? Fuck your friends; you were leaving with or without them. 

They weren’t….flirting with you, were they?

Surely not.

Of course not.

What a ridiculous thing to think.

But…it certainly felt like they were flirting with you.

Maybe one more glance?

Just as you were about to approach the portrait hole, you turned for one more look at the objects of your affection and your current tormentors and - yup, sure enough - Sirius, Lily, and now James were all standing there smiling at you.

They were watching you leave?!

Okay time to go, that is enough nonsense for one day. 

You spun and collided with something tall and solid which thankfully caught your arms as you all but ricocheted off of them.

“Hey there, dove. Where’re you headed in such a hurry?”

Please for the love of gods, don’t tell me…

But of course, you looked up to see the face of one Remus Fucking Lupin smirking down at you. 

“You lot are everywhere.” You whispered in awe. The bastard only chuckled in response.

“Come on you guys! We’re going to start a game of truth or dare!” Lily called over to…you (?) and Remus.

“Well, we wouldn’t want to miss that, would we?” Remus murmured lowly into your ear as he steered you towards the growing circle congregating around the various chairs and sofas littering the common room.

And listen, you’re not particularly proud that you were so placid in Remus’ man handling you.

But in your defence…

In your defence, Remus was man handling you. 

And to your absolute horror, he plopped you down beside Lily on a large chair that was not quite large enough for two people. 

You tried to swallow your heart back down which was attempting to escape via your mouth as you became hyper focused on the fact that Lily sodding Evans was pushed up against you none too casually and- Merlin’s tits, was she playing with your hair!? 

You pretended to pay attention as a few rounds passed by; your friend being dared to give you a lap dance being the most brazen thing to have taken place.

Until it got to the Marauders.

Marlene dared Sirius to strip down to his boxers for a whole round which he was all but too eager to do, apparently. Meaning he got to ask the next person.

“Moony!” 

Remus smiled down at his lap before he looked over at one of his boyfriend’s mischievously. 

“I dare you to kiss the prettiest girl here.”

You’re not necessarily proud of the way your heart plummeted at that; this is what you had been telling yourself all night. They were taken.

No matter if they complimented you.

No matter if they caught you as you fell. 

No matter if they snuggled up to you on a chair designed for one.

No matter if one of them made you feel like you leaving the party early would have been truly devastating.

No matter.

“That’s impossible; there’s two of them.” Remus said quickly, causing your heart to ache for Lily.

Who even says that when their girlfriend is sitting right here!?

You kept your head down as the party all ooooh’ed and aawwwweee’d.

James let out a funny high pitched laugh as if he were an over excited kid on Christmas morning. “Guess you’ll have to kiss them both then.” 

You really should have left when you had the chance; you weren’t sure you could watch.

It was their business if they wanted to include another, but that didn’t mean you had to like it.

“Or they can kiss each other; I think I’d enjoy that just as much.” 

“Sounds good to me.” Lily said as she stood; the space she once inhabited felt cold and vacant without her.

“Well? Come on then?” She said as she grabbed your arm.

“What?”

“Come with me.” She said again, wiggling your arm within your grasp, and who were you to deny her, really?

Like a well trained dog you followed her obediently over to where Remus sat before she all but shoved you into his lap.

“You seem like the fidgety type; maybe Rem can help with that, hm?” She said as she shot a wink at Remus over your shoulder.

His arms wrapped possessively around your waist as he rested his chin on the junction between your neck and shoulder.

“Is it okay if she kisses you, pretty girl?”

You had no time to be absolutely horrified at the pathetic little keening sound that escaped your lips as you looked up at the red-head now towering over you.

“What do you say, gorgeous?” And though her emerald eyes did shine with some mischief, you could see she was earnest; this was your choice.

“Okay.” You whispered barely loud enough for you to hear yourself over the hammering of your heart.

“Yeah?” She whispered as she knelt in front of you.

“Yeah.” You agreed.

And you only got to see the soft, hopeful smile that adorned her lips for but a moment before her hands were on either side of your face and she was pressing her soft lips to yours. 

It could have been hours or centuries but it was also all too soon before she was pulling away from you; a proud smile on her lips though her cheeks were a similar colour to her hair.

You became aware of the hooting and hollering going on around you as Remus’ chest began to vibrate in laughter.

“Beautiful.” He murmured - likely more to himself than to you, but you heard it all the same.

“Do I get a turn?!” James shouted before Sirius roughly grabbed him by the waist and planted him down on his lap.

“Not before me, Jamie.” He snickered as he shot you a wink. 

The audacity of a man to still be so confident sitting in nothing but his boxers. 

You tried to hide behind your hands though it was all for naught as Remus made a theatrical cooing sound and pulled you further into his lap until you were all but cradled in his arms.

“Maybe without an audience next time, hm?” He asked you as he brushed some hairs away from your forehead.

Not trusting yourself to speak (or to even make direct eye contact with the bloke currently cuddling you in your lap), you nodded with your face still hidden.

“Way to go babe.” James said as Lily went to join the two boys on their loveseat. “You were so good, we’ll even get a next time!”

[thewriterghost]

can i request a reader who can’t admit she’s upset with one the marauders (or all)? like refuses to cry…only if you’re comfortable of course. thank you :)

Thank you for requesting gorgeous!

modern au

Sirius Black x fem!reader ♡ 1.3k words

The smell of smoke coming from the kitchen is the first sign that Sirius has tipped over from resentment into remorse. 

“Jesus,” you open the front door on your way into the kitchen, eyes watering, “what are you doing?” 

“I was trying to make rice,” he says, fanning desperately over your pressure cooker, “but I think I’ve fucked it.” 

“Do you think so?” Any other day you’d both grin at the harmless snark, but now Sirius’ expression pinches and you think your own must look the same, your tone more biting than you meant for it to be. “It’s fine, it’ll be fine once it airs out. Help me with the windows?” 

Sirius acts like it’s a competition, opening three windows before you’ve finished two and looking at you like he’s expecting a pat on the head for it. You try to give him a smile, and his expression clouds over. 

“Sorry,” he says, voice not quite cool but oddly remote, “the idea was to surprise you with dinner, and I’ve broken your rice thingy instead.” 

“It’s not broken,” you reassure him. “I’m sure it’ll be fine once I clean it out. Why were you trying to make dinner?” 

Sirius grimaces. It’s a full body motion, his eyebrows hooking in the middle while the muscles in his forearms shift uncomfortably and his shoulders migrate upward. “Sort of a shitty attempt at an olive branch, I guess.” 

Some of the smoke has cleared, and you brave the kitchen. “I don’t need an olive branch,” you say. “If you say we’re good, we’re good.” 

“Don’t do that.” He follows you into the kitchen. “I can tell you’re upset, just because—” Sirius hisses when you take the bowl out of the pressure cooker, transferring it swiftly to the sink “—fuck, baby, don’t burn yourself. Let me take care of that later.” 

“I’d rather handle it now,” you say, turning on the faucet. “I’m just letting it soak anyway.” 

“I’m trying to handle this.” Sturdy hands wrap around your shoulders, turning you to face your boyfriend. He looks at you steadily. “Don’t pretend you’re not angry with me, because I know that you are.” 

A spark of annoyance tingles up your spine as you shrug, reaching behind you to turn off the faucet. “I’m not.” 

“Can you stop trying to make me feel like an idiot? I know you. You’ve been all stiff since last night.” 

“You were angry last night. Not me.” 

“Yeah, well it seems to have caught on.” 

You turn away from him and back towards the sink, swishing your hand in the cold water of the bowl to dislodge the charred rice sticking to the bottom. You don’t know where Sirius gets off, acting like you’re holding a grudge when he’s the one who shouted at you last night. Your phone had died while you were out with friends. That was all that had happened. You didn’t think anything of it, because Sirius, the only person who would really worry about not being able to reach you, knew you were out and that you’d be home late. 

But when you had gotten home, he’d been furious. Gone on and on about how he’d been trying to get a response from you all night, and how dangerous it was to get drunk when you couldn’t call anyone (nevermind that you’d been with your friends), and how freaked out he’d been. He wouldn’t listen to you. He’d only wanted to yell and rage, and make you sit in your heels on the couch while he did it. He’d even seemed like he might be tearing up a couple of times. And you hated to think of him being scared for you, but since when was it your responsibility to answer every time he called? He knew you were with your friends. You hadn’t asked him to check in on you. 

He’d gone to bed still fuming and you’d stayed on the couch rather than try to sleep in a hostile bed. Now, inexplicably, his tune seems to have changed. 

“So,” Sirius sighs, “this is you not mad, huh?” 

“Yup.” You scrub at the bowl with your fingernails. 

“I just want a chance to apologize.” 

“You can if it’ll make you feel better, but I don’t need it.” 

“Why can’t you just admit it?” 

“Because I’m not the one who gets pissy about stupid things.” You dislodge a chunk of rice and your hand slips across the bowl, splashing water onto your shirt. “That’s you.” 

There’s a second of dense, oppressive silence. When Sirius breaches it, you can hear the smirk in his voice. “There’s my girl. Tell me about the stupid things I got pissy about, would you?”

“It’s nothing.” 

“No, it’s not. It wasn’t nothing to me, and clearly it wasn’t to you either. Go on, doll.” 

“I don’t want to argue with you.” 

“Sure you do.” 

“Why do you want to fight so bad?” 

“Because,” Sirius says, and you can hear him moving behind you, can all but see him leaning against the counter, the picture of insouciance, “I think you need to get it out of your system.” 

You scrub harder at the bowl. Blackened bits of rice float to the top of the water. “Like you do?” 

A pause. His voice softens. “It’s not always a good thing. I shouldn’t have shouted at you, last night.” Something in your chest tightens painfully at this new gentle tone. “I’m sorry. I let my temper get the better of me. I was just worried about you.” 

“I don’t think that’s my fault,” you say, managing to sound mostly normal. You dump out the contents of the bowl, filling it again with warmer water. “My phone was dead, and I was with my friends. I didn’t need you to worry about me.” 

“I just do, when I know you’ve all been drinking, and I can’t talk to you to know you’re okay…” Sirius takes in a breath, breaking your heart with how it sounds like he’s trying to steady himself. “But you’re right, okay? It wasn’t fair.” 

“I didn’t know I was coming home to be shouted at.” This time, your voice betrays you, a pitchiness that makes you go quiet fast. You hear Sirius move. 

“Sweetheart?” he asks softly. There’s a touch at your elbow. “I’m sorry, baby, please look at me.” 

You don’t want to, but you don’t want your embarrassment interpreted as ire. You take a quiet breath before pivoting from the sink. Sirius’ eyes are waiting, sad and fretful as they probe at yours. 

“I’m sorry,” he says again, impossibly quieter, and runs his fingers from your elbow up the back of your arm. “It wasn’t your fault, I wasn’t being fair. I shouldn’t have shouted at you.” 

You press your lips together, hard. His eyebrows hook up in the middle. 

“You can cry, sweet thing. It’s okay.” You shake your head mutely, blinking, and Sirius makes a terribly lovely cooing sound, snaking an arm around your shoulders and pulling you into his chest. You hug him back as the first hot tear rolls down your cheek. “Oh, sweetheart. I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry.” Your shoulders jump with a stilted, poorly repressed sob, his grip on you tightening. “It’s okay, I’ve got you. I’ve got you, baby. My temper tantrum really did a number on you, huh?” 

You laugh wetly. “Guess so,” you squeak. “Sorry.” 

“If you apologize for this, I may shout at you again,” he warns fondly. “You haven’t done anything wrong, lovely girl. Just let it out, if you need to.” 

You know that’s not easy for Sirius to say. Know he’s likely close to tears himself, from how agitated seeing other people cry makes him. You appreciate the offer. 

You fall into a silence less heavy than any that’s suffocated your home since last night, broken up only by the steady, quiet thumping of Sirius patting your back and the intermittent smooching sounds as he kisses your shoulder or your cheek or the side of your neck. You stand still in your smoky kitchen, wetting your boyfriend’s shoulder with tears and snot, and he lets you.

[thewriterghost]

"not all men" you're right remus lupin would never

[thewriterghost]

I recently found ur page and omfg I spent hours yesterday reading all ur work!!!! What a lil fic of Sirius and reader but like pre relationship where she's in the hospital (u can pick reason) and she refuses to see anyone and just asks for Sirius

Thanks for requesting my love!

cw: hospital, mention of stitches

Sirius Black x fem!reader ♡ 906 words

Sirius feels awkward and stiff as he pulls back the curtain, though for all he knows you’re too hopped up on pain meds to even know it’s him. Really, that’s the only reasonable explanation for the directions the nurse had just delivered: “She said she’ll only see Sirius right now.” 

He has no clue why you’d ask for him. He’s probably the least comforting of your roommates, and as soon as he catches sight of you, knees tented in front of your chest and hands clasped around your ankles, his worry for your choice deepens. 

Someone’s tried to clean you up, but they’ve done a shit job of it. There’s still blood crusted on your chin, and your face is blotchy, your cheeks smeared with dark gray like you’d wiped across them with your hands only to spread your makeup off to the sides. James had said you’d cried the whole car ride to A&E, but Sirius still wasn’t prepared to see you like this. His chest feels hollow and achy. 

“Hey,” you say, voice scratchy. If hearts have strings, you’re playing his like a fiddle. 

“Hey, doll.” He goes for a smile as he sits on the edge of your little cot, managing to sound halfway normal. “Come here often?” 

You start to grin, then stop like it hurts. Sirius stops, too. 

“Yeah, you know,” you say, “now and then.” 

“Don’t see why.” He makes a show of looking about him, at the papery blue curtain and beige-ish linoleum floors. “Place is sorta depressing.” 

You roll your eyes, and Sirius’ heart lightens to see you in a better humor. “Yeah, I think I’ve judged my hangout poorly. I’m dying to get out of here.” 

He’ll bet. You’ve been here hours longer than him. James had been the only one home with you when you’d tripped on the stairs and bitten through your lip, and Sirius and Remus had only found out when they’d gotten home and seen the note James left, his already scribbly handwriting worsened by haste and panic. By the time they’d arrived they’d missed most of the action (Sirius was secretly thankful for that) and James had filled them in before the nurse had come out to inform them that you’d gotten three stitches in your lip and summoned Sirius back. 

“I can understand that.” He gives you his best approximation of James’ easygoing grin. “You ready to go home then, gorgeous?” 

The shift is slight, but Sirius sees your bravado fade, a shyness entering your expression. “That’s actually why I wanted to see you,” you say.

“Yeah?” He doesn’t bother to hide his curiosity. “Why’s that?” 

“Because I know you’ll be honest with me.” 

He feels his eyebrows go up. “About what, doll?” 

You shrink a bit, knees drawing closer to your chest. Your voice is small when you ask, “Is it awful? I mean, do I look awful?” 

Ah. Sirius can see why you’d want him for this, but you’re wrong in your assumption. He’d absolutely lie to you if he needed to, just like Remus or James would in his place. But you’ve asked for him, so Sirius tries to do right by you. 

“You could never look awful, dollface. Be sensible.” He squints his eyes teasingly, reaching for your ankle and giving it a reprimanding little shake. “It’s just a couple of stitches, you haven’t been warped unrecognizable.” 

You frown, and it’s even more upsetting than usual. Your eyes look heart-breakingly insecure. “Are you sure?” you ask softly. 

“Yeah, I’m fucking sure.” Sirius scoffs like you’re unbelievable. “You said it yourself, babe, I wouldn’t lie to you.” He definitely would, but there’ll never be an occasion for that. He can’t imagine you genuinely looking bad. “I can clean you up a bit, though, if you’d like.” 

You blink. “Um, yeah. If you think it would help.” 

“Brilliant. Sit tight.” Sirius gets up and starts going through drawers, sifting through medical supplies for something he can use. 

“Fairly sure you’re not supposed to do that.” You sound like you’re trying not to smile. 

“Fairly certain my taxes pay for this place, and they’ve left my best-looking roommate with a dirty face.” He finds a box of mini-wipes, turning back to you. “Don’t tell James I’ve said that.” 

“Oh, I’m definitely tattling on you,” you tease, and Sirius is caught between feeling triumphant and worried that you look very near to grinning. He has no clue how easy it is to tear your stitches. 

“What, you want us to match? That’s cruel, sweetheart.” 

You roll your eyes. “He won’t punch you.” 

Sirius huffs a laugh, holding you still with a hand on your jaw as he wipes gently at your chin. “You haven’t known him as long as I have.” 

Your brows flick up as you meet his eyes, disbelieving. “Our James? You really think our James would hit you for saying he’s not the best looking roommate?” 

“Well, not if you’re in front of me,” he muses. He throws out the first wipe, ripping open another. “He already feels bad for you, so maybe that can work in my favor. If you are going to tell him, lean on me as we walk out, okay, doll? Give me a fighting chance.” 

The corner of your lips twist as you close your eyes and Sirius wipes sideways across your cheek. “Yeah, fair enough. I’ll do my best for you.”

[thewriterghost]

can we get sleepy reader x sleepy remus where they just the most perfect night routine designed for sleep

Can I get a nighttime routine with sleepy remus is the real question (pleasepleaseplease)

Remus Lupin x fem!reader ♡ 613 words

Remus likes to keep the thermostat low at night, so you’re burrowed under your thick comforter, lying on your stomach with one of your legs stuck out awkwardly to touch his. Your boyfriend is sitting up half out of the covers (you don’t know how he can stand it) and sipping chamomile tea while he reads. 

Ordinarily you’d be reading too, but you’ve fallen into a stint of obsession with sudoku. The light from your candle warmer casts an orange glow over your notebook, your bedroom pleasantly saturated with the smell of bergamot and caramel. You’re partway through your sixth box of the nine, and you’re starting to doubt your ability to finish tonight, though you’re loath to leave a puzzle half done. 

It’s the fault of the warmth emanating from Remus underneath the covers, and the light sound of pages flipping, and the pleasant ache in your muscles from the stretches you make him do every night even though you don’t love having to get up and do them either. It’s the softness of your sheets, and the chirping of crickets outside your window, and worst of all the unbelievable plumpness of the pillow squished underneath your elbows, where it’d be so easy to drop your forehead down to rest above your notebook for only a minute…

“You’re getting tired.” Remus sounds amused. 

You turn your head, and he looks it too, his eyes honey-gold in the warm light. There’s a soft curve to one side of his mouth. 

“I thought nothing could distract you from your reading,” you accuse. 

“You can.” He folds the corner of his page, closing the book. His mug clinks as he sets it on the nightstand, empty. “Ready to turn the lights off?” 

“I haven’t finished the puzzle,” you argue. 

“It’ll still be there in the morning.” He puts his book next to his mug. 

“And you’re not at the end of a chapter,” you say as he takes the pen from your hand and the notebook out from under you, piling them neatly on top of his book on the nightstand. 

“Silly as it may sound, the same principle applies to book chapters as sudoku puzzles.” 

You can’t find it in you to argue further, humming your acquiescence as you turn onto your side and cozy up to him. Remus smiles and slides down beside you underneath the covers. He lets you worm your fingers under his ribs, touching the tip of his warm nose to your cold one. 

“One of us still needs to turn off the candle lamp,” he whispers. 

You groan. Resignation finds its way into your boyfriend’s expression even before you make yours as pleading as can be, eyes big and pitiful. 

“Can you do it?” you ask sweetly. 

Remus sighs as he gets out of bed, and you press your lips together to quell a smile. A few seconds later, the candle warmer’s light clicks off and he’s slinking back in beside you, long limbs still warm. 

“Thanks, handsome.” You take one of his hands in yours, kissing it and pulling it with you as you roll over and snuggle your back to his front. 

“Yeah, yeah,” he says, a smile in his tone. He slides his other arm underneath you. The room is nearly pitch black, only some silvery-blue moonlight bleeding in from the window along with the cricket sounds, and Remus’ cinnamony scent blurs together with the ones from your candle. 

“Night,” you sigh, already half gone. “Love you.” 

“I love you, too.” Remus’ voice sounds considerably softer now. He lays a soft kiss on the back of your head, palm splaying flat over your chest. “Night, darling.”

[thewriterghost]

Hi love, if you're up to it could you write about bf Sirius teasing reader about something, and it actually hurts her feelings quite a lot? maybe she's always thought she's to shy for him, and he teases her about being quiet and it just hurts so much that he sees her just like everyone else does? like she thought he understood her, but instead he's teasing her about something she's rlly insecure abt ?

Thanks for requesting lovely!

cw: reader has leg hair

Sirius Black x shy!reader ♡ 1.2k words

You hear Sirius’ ruckus before he’s anywhere near you. Down the hall, shouting and laughter, and then your boyfriend’s voice: “Yeah, I’m on the lookout for my bird. She likes to hide herself away, let me know if you see her?” 

Your face warms, humiliation a prickly, unpleasant thing beneath your skin. The kinder part of you thinks for a second to stick your head out into the hallway so he can stop looking for you, but you can’t bring yourself to do it. A few seconds more, and it doesn’t matter. Sirius twists the handle of the door to your refuge, his amused gray eyes finding you in an instant. 

“Hey there, sweetness.” His voice is smooth and easy. He closes the door behind him, settling down across from you on the carpeted floor like it’s the most natural thing in the world. “Lily told me you went to go get another drink, but I think you might’ve gotten turned around. The kitchen’s just down the hall.” 

“Took a wrong turn,” you say sheepishly. Sirius only smiles. 

“My shy girl,” he croons, reaching forward and brushing his thumb over the soft hairs just below your kneecap. “If you were nervous, you could’ve just come and found me, sweet thing. I told you where I’d be.” 

He had, but you couldn’t have gone to him. You already feel like such a child. 

Sirius had been obviously thrilled with how well you were getting on with his friends tonight. It wasn’t like you hadn’t met them before, but this time Sirius had intentionally maneuvered you so you’d sat closest to Lily and Remus, the least obtrusive of his lot, and it had been going well. You’d been contributing to the conversation more than you were used to, encouraged by Lily and Remus’ gentle friendliness and your boyfriend’s pleased looks. After a while, James had cajoled the majority of the group into playing beer pong in the other room. Remus had stood to go, and Sirius with him, pulling his hand from yours and checking you’d be okay if he left you with Lily. 

The way he’d asked it, “Think you can manage on your own for a bit, gorgeous?” all light and teasing and infused with laughter, you’d had no choice but to say yes. Even if you suddenly didn’t feel very confident you could manage, and in the end, you didn’t. 

You’d let Sirius’ silly, thoughtless question get to you. Lily hadn’t even seemed to notice what he’d said, but your face had burned all the way to the tips of your ears, and all her kind, patient attempts at conversation were wasted on you. You forgot what you were going to say, stumbled over your words, apologized and awkward-laughed until you’d finally said you were going for another drink and not come back. You’d found this, a guest bedroom as far as you can tell, and hunkered down. You really hope she hasn’t taken it personally. 

“I didn’t want to bother you,” you tell Sirius now, your voice so soft it’s a miracle he hears. Outside of your sanctuary, the music turns up and shouting begins, the lyrics to a song everyone knows but you. 

“You could never bother me,” he promises. He’s lowered his volume to match yours. “I know how you get.” 

Shame burns hot and painful behind your eyes. “It’s not—” your voice catches, and Sirius’ thumb stills on your knee. You try again. “It’s not something I do on purpose.” 

“Hey, I know.” He scoots closer to you, setting his hands on your tented knees and propping his chin atop them so he’s looking at your face with just a few inches between you. His eyebrows are furrowed. “I know, sweetness. I’m not saying it’s a bad thing, you know? Just that I don’t mind taking care of you when you’re feeling nervous or anything like that. You can always come find me.” 

It’s hard to avoid Sirius’ gaze when he’s this close, but you manage, looking down at the carpet past your thigh. “It felt a little bit like you minded when you left to go with James and Remus,” you say quietly. 

He tilts his head, steadfast in his eye contact even if you won’t reciprocate. It feels like he’s taking an inventory of your reactions as they flit across your face. You wish you were better at hiding them from him. “That upset you?” he asks, genuinely curious. “You wanted me to stay?” 

“No,” you say. “Well, yes, but that’s not…it didn’t upset me. You shouldn’t need to stay with me all of the time.” 

“I don’t mind,” Sirius interjects. 

You look up, and he rewards you with a half-happy uptilt of his lips. His expression is kind and open now, not a lick of teasing about him. 

“I don’t need you to stay with me,” you clarify. “It was just the way you asked. It made it sound like I can’t manage without you.” 

“Oh.” Sirius’ brows twitch together, recalling. One of his pinkies starts to stroke absentmindedly up and down on your thigh. “Sweetheart, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that. Did I embarrass you?” 

“A little,” you whisper, shoulders hunching as your body tries to shrink away from him. “But it’s more that I didn’t realize you thought that.” 

“I don’t,” he says quickly, voice soft but ardent. “I really don’t, honestly. It was a joke, I was just…I was being stupid. I shouldn’t have made light of it. I know you’re fine on your own, angel, that was just my dumb way of trying to ask if you wanted me to stay and trying to keep it light. I wasn’t trying to tease you.”  

You tug on your bottom lip with your teeth. “It’s okay if you meant it,” you say.

“I didn’t,” Sirius promises. “Really, I swear. Can I—can I touch you? Say no if you don’t want it.” 

“You’re already touching me.” Some amusement makes its way into your tone. Sirius smiles, but doesn’t move until you say, “Yeah, you can.” 

His hands plant themselves on either side of your face, and then he’s jamming your knees apart with his torso, stamping his lips to your face. 

“M’sorry, my sweet girl,” he mumbles, mushing the words into the side of your nose. “I was being a prat, and I’m sorry. I can’t believe I made you feel bad.” 

“It’s okay,” you reassure him, smiling now. Your face is still burning hot, but the cause of that warmth is growing murky. 

“No, it wasn’t nice to make fun.” He pulls back, fondness mingling with solemnity in his gray irises. “I didn’t realize it’d come off that way, but I won’t do it again, I mean it.” 

“Thanks,” you reply just as sincerely. “I’m okay now, really.” 

“Yeah?” He kisses between your brows. “Okay enough to go back out there, or do you wanna go home?” 

You think on this for a minute. “I should probably talk to Lily for a bit before leaving. I feel bad for abandoning her.” 

“She’s alright, gorgeous,” Sirius reassures you, but offers you his hands. You take them, and he hoists you up. “We’ll grab you a drink on the way, say you got sidetracked. I mean, that’s basically what happened.” 

You roll your eyes, leaning into his side as he starts for the kitchen.

[thewriterghost]

heya!! i was wondering if you could write a poly!marauders x reader where r stopped smoking..? i’m 6 months clean from smoking nicotine and i haven’t told anyone (you’re the first!! lmao) just incase i break from a stressful day and so i don’t disappoint!! could you maybe write that into the drabble or whatever you do..? tysm if you do, and if you don’t then no worries!!

i love you mae and make sure to take care of yourself and keep being you!!!!

thanks for requesting gorgeous, i really hope you're doing well!! proud of you <3

cw: smoking, reader deals with addiction

poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 936 words

Remus smells like cigarettes. He’s stopped smoking anywhere near you, but you’re sure if you look out the front door you’ll see the telltale smear of ash smashed into the sidewalk from where he’d stamped one out on the way in. The aroma brings longing and self-loathing, the former more potent than the latter, and you find yourself breathing in the fibers of his sweater for a whiff of it. 

Remus doesn’t catch onto the true motivation for your proximity. He takes it for cuddling, adjusting his hold on his book so he can read with one hand while the other wraps around your shoulders, encouraging you closer to his side. Underneath the heady smell of lingering smoke he smells like himself, like cinnamon and oranges, and you try to focus on that as your better sense fogs over and your fingers start itching for a cig. 

“Aha!” Sirius slaps his last card down on the table. 

James blows out a flabbergasted breath, leaning back on his hands on the floor. They’re playing some kids’ card game Remus learned in primary school and unwisely taught them. At first you’d all gotten into it, but after Sirius nearly took your head off for forgetting the rules and playing with two hands (“Sorry, gorgeous, you know I don’t mean anything I say when I’m trying to win…and I could have won, couldn’t I? No, I’m just saying, it’s about the principle—”) you and Remus had bowed out. James and Sirius have retained their obsession for days, each keeping a scoreboard in their own heads that seems to hold them in favor. 

“Angel?” 

You look up, meeting James’ knowing gaze. “Hm?” 

“He asked if you’re getting hungry for dinner,” Remus clues you in, toying with the ends of your hair. 

“Oh, sorry. Um…” You think hard. One of the more irritating things about quitting smoking is that now your appetite never seems to fully die down. You’re ready for your next meal all day long, and so you actually have to think about whether it makes sense for you to have it. “I had some carrots just after I got home, so I could eat whenever you want to.” 

“Alright…” 

You take another deep inhale, telling yourself it’s because Remus smells nice and losing your grasp on self-control all the while. 

“Are you tired?” Remus asks, and you don’t know how you didn’t notice it before, that extra bit of roughness that his voice takes on after he’s been smoking. You’re so envious you could die. “You seem distracted.” 

“I’m good,” you murmur. Though perhaps it’d be better if you did take a nap or something. You’re beginning to feel twitchy. You take in a breath through your nose like you’ve been practicing, letting it out through your mouth. 

“Ah.” Sirius scoots closer to you, laying his cheek on the couch cushion. “You want to have a piece of your gum, sweet thing?” 

You look at him guiltily. Remus makes a soft sound of realization. 

“You’re picking your nails,” Sirius explains, and you look down to see that you are. “I imagine that means you’re craving one.” 

It’s simultaneously sweet and irksome that none of your boyfriends will even say the word cigarette around you anymore. They’re trying to be considerate, you know, but it feels like they think your self-control is so tenuous that just one word could shatter it. You don’t have the heart to tell them. 

“Sorry,” you mumble, getting the pack of gum out of your pocket. Just the act of unwrapping a stick makes you feel instantly better. “I guess I was thinking I wouldn’t need it anymore.” 

“Don’t be sorry,” James says lightly. “I don’t imagine it’s easy, sweetheart, you shouldn’t feel bad about using something to cope. It’s not like having gum hurts anything.” 

You hum, then turn to Remus sheepishly. “I’m really sorry, do you think you might be able to change?” He looks confused. “Your sweater smells like cigarettes,” you explain. 

James gasps as though scandalized and Remus swears, grabbing the neckline of his sweater and tugging it off. He tosses it into the hall. 

“M’sorry, dove.” He takes your head between his hands, mushing a kiss into your hair. He’s now bare-chested, and you laugh at the dramatics, totally unexpected from him. “I didn’t realize. Is it better now?” 

“Yeah, thanks.” 

He drops another kiss on your head, remorseful. “Alright, I’ll go grab something else to wear,” he says, starting to stand. Both Sirius and James protest loudly. 

“I think what you’re wearing now looks great,” says James. 

“Yeah,” Sirius seconds, “stay in that.” 

Remus looks down at his shirtless torso, raising an eyebrow at the other boys. You can see the amusement dancing in his eyes. 

“Really?” he asks. 

“Come on, it’s not like the fucking Pope’s coming over,” Sirius says, looking well below your boyfriend’s eyes with unabashed enthusiasm. “Tell him, gorgeous.” 

Remus turns his gaze on you. You curl in on yourself slightly, shrugging your shoulders. “This is the best distraction I’ve had all day,” you say quietly, and James’ laughter booms off the walls. 

“Fair enough.” Remus rolls his eyes, grinning as he sits back down on the couch beside you. You get comfy like you were against his side, now smelling only him. He drapes his arm across your back, settling a hand on your hip. “The lows I stoop to for you, hm?” 

“If you’re not up to the task,” Sirius says, “just say the word. I’d be happy to take her off your hands.” 

“Fuck off,” Remus says, and tugs you closer.

[thewriterghost]

hmmm how about james potter and shy reader’s first kiss? 💘

Idk how this sat so long in my inbox, thank you for requesting (and for your patience) angel!

James Potter x shy!reader ♡ 998 words

You know James has been holding back on your account. He’s still a thousand times braver than you are, always with a hand cast over your shoulders or resting on your back or clasped around yours and compliments dropping from his lips like they’re nothing. You find it easier to reciprocate when he makes the first move like that. To lean into his side, tighten your fingers around his, smile and tell him he looks lovely, too. 

Tonight he seems to be taking things further, and you suspect you know why. He’s seemed reluctant to let you out of arm’s reach all night. Instead of just holding your hand, he’d played with your fingers while you’d sat in the cinema. He’d pushed your hair out of your face when you turned to talk to him, and a couple of times he’d wiped chocolate from the corner of your mouth that you suspect wasn’t really there. Now, as you’re walking home, he’s rubbing a slow, absentminded back-and-forth across the back of your hand with his thumb. It feels like he’s testing the waters. 

You’ve been dating for a while now. You’d wondered when it would come. 

James walks you up your front steps, every smile he beams your way worsening the bone-thuddering beat of your heart. It’s not necessarily James that scares you. He’s perfect and lovely and kind, and you want him close so badly it’s humiliating. 

He squeezes your hand in his, and your nerves misfire, the toe of your shoe catching on the top step. You gasp as you pitch forward, but James is quick. He grabs you around the middle and you save yourself with your other foot. 

“Whoa,” he laughs. “You alright, sweetheart?” 

“Yeah,” you breathe. “Sorry, I don’t know how that happened.” 

“They are your own front steps,” James points out. There’s a knowing in his eyes, in the soft curl of his bottom lip, that makes your cheeks warm and your stomach flutter. “I hate to think of what unfamiliar steps do to you if you’re falling right outside your own home.” 

“I know.” You look down, pretending you need to check your shoelaces or brush off your pants or some other ruse he won’t believe, and try not to be so acutely aware of how he hasn’t let you go. “It’s humiliating. The neighbors will talk.” 

“Let me know if they do. I’ll set them straight.” 

You grin up at him, and James’ expression is as warm as his voice. His eyes go molten as they meet yours, a look now familiar and yet newly thrilling every time. It makes your spine feel rubbery. 

“Thanks for coming tonight,” he says, voice gone a bit softer than usual. “I had a really great time.” 

“I did, too,” you reply earnestly. “Thanks for inviting me.” 

“You’re always invited, sweetheart.” His touch slips from around your middle, taking your hand again. “See you Friday, then?” 

When you’d told James how busy you’d be this week, he’d penciled himself into your schedule for Friday, when the pandemonium will have ceased. He wants to cook you dinner. You think you’ll likely deliquesce into a heart-shaped puddle when he does. 

“See you then.” You smile, and he smiles back, and then intention solidifies in his gaze.

You hold your breath. 

“Can I kiss you?” he asks. 

“Please.” The word leaves you on a sigh, and then James is stepping closer to you, your fingers tightening on his. 

The first soft press of his mouth is gentle and chaste. Warm, like the rest of him, like sunlight given form. His hand comes up to hold the side of your face, and you lean into the touch on instinct, slotting your nose alongside his to get him closer. It starts so slow and lovely you’re not sure you can handle anything more, but then James parts his lips and you mirror him reflexively and his sunlight is pouring into you. 

You let go of his hand to wrap both your arms around his neck, and James smiles against your lips as you press closer to him, his hand gentle on your face as he slows you both down again with sweet, soft kisses to your bottom lip. 

“Easy,” he says, his own voice slightly hoarse now. It sends shivers down your spine, light as a feather’s touch. “Let’s give the neighbors one headline at a time, yeah? Don’t want to overwhelm the presses.” 

You’re lost for words. You let your forehead rest against his, eyes still closed, savoring the warmth emanating from your lips. 

“Sweetheart, you with me?” James tilts his head up so his nose bumps into yours. You feel your lips curve of their own volition. “Was that okay?” 

You hum. “You’re right,” you say, impressed with how normal you manage to sound. “I think we should go inside so they’re left to wonder.” 

That earns you a hearty laugh, James grasping your shoulders when you’re forced away from him by the raucousness of it. 

“You said you were tired just a few minutes ago,” he reminds you. 

“I feel awake now.” 

He laughs again, delighted, and your face warms at your own brazenness. James lets his touch slip down your arms to your hands again, taking them in his and squeezing reassuringly. 

“As much as I’d like to,” he says, “you’ve got a big week. I should let you get to bed. Plus—” he gives you a roguish grin “—keeping you wanting more is how I get you to let me in here on Friday.”

You grin down at your shoes. “That’s very conniving of you.” 

“Oh, yeah, I’m nefarious that way. But one more.” 

James tilts your face up with a hand, pressing one quick, sweet kiss to your lips before pulling out of your reach. You know you look as surprised as you feel, because his eyes dance with amusement as he backs down the stairs, his smile poorly repressed. 

“See you Friday, sweetheart.” 

[thewriterghost]

Y/n: Hey, Siri, can you help me with my zipper? Sirius: Yeah, I’m on it! Y/n: Sirus: Y/n: UP, Sirius. Sirius: Right, sorry. Force of habit.

[thewriterghost]

I don’t care if it’s 1 A.M. I don’t consider it “tomorrow” until I wake up.