the binding is fragile

poly! marauders and cuteness aggression. like maybe reader coming home a bit tipsy from girls night and just seeing her boys and losing it. grabbing remus’ face and just kissing all over his cheeks, gnawing on james’ biceps and playing with sirius’ hair or tracing his tattoos.

Hi lovely, thank you for requesting!

cw: alcohol

poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 589 words

You leave a trail of things down the hallway that you swear you’ll pick up in the morning. Your bag, both shoes, your jacket. There’s no time to put any of it in its proper place, not when you know your boyfriends are all cozy and waiting for you in your bed. Everything else is secondary. 

The moment you get your eyes on them, it’s already too much. Remus is reading while Sirius chats to a nearly-asleep James, and you don’t know whether to scream or hug them or burst into tears. One feels more socially acceptable than the rest. 

A grin spreads over Sirius’ face as you crawl clumsily up the bed, so you go to him first. 

"Yes," Remus gasped, slapping his hands on the hospital reception desk. "I'm his husband. Remus Lupin."

Behind him, James and Peter slammed to a halt.

"His what?" James choked out.

Remus didn't even look back, already taking the visitor pass from the nurse. "Thank you. Room four?"

"Down the hall to the left," she smiled.

Remus started walking fast. James jogged to catch up, grabbing his elbow. "Remus… husband? What the fuck? Did I miss something?"

"They only let spouses in before noon," Remus said, not breaking his stride. "We updated each other's emergency files last year."

"You… you committed medical fraud?"

"It's not fraud, it's…. Look, it just makes things easier."

"Right. Of course," Peter muttered to James. "Of fucking course.”

They found Sirius sitting on the edge of a hospital bed, his arm strapped into a sling. He lit up the second he saw them.

"Moony!" Sirius whined, reaching his good hand out. "They took my jacket. You have to track it down before they ruin it."

Remus immediately stepped right between Sirius's knees, automatically reaching out to adjust the strap of the sling so it stopped rubbing against Sirius's neck. "I'll find it. Are you in pain?"

"Just my pride," Sirius mumbled. He leaned his chin against Remus’s stomach and closed his eyes with a content sigh.

James stared at them. He looked at Remus, whose hands were currently busy gently checking the back of Sirius's head for bumps, and then at Sirius, who was nuzzling into Remus's jumper like a touch-starved kitten.

"So," James said loudly, clearing his throat. "Sirius. Remus just informed me that you two are legally wed."

"It’s easy, Prongs," Sirius answered without opening his eyes. "Spouses get a lot of privileges. It's a purely administrative marriage."

"Administrative," James repeated flatly.

"It’s a simple matter of logistics," Remus corrected simply, right as he leaned down and pressed a kiss into Sirius's hair.

Peter buried his face in his hands, looking disgusted by the sight. "They're going to adopt a child next week and claim it was just easier than getting a dog."

pairing: husband!james potter x wife!reader summary: you come home from a date night with your husband, who is eager to keep the fun going despite having your twelve year old child awaiting with his babysitter at home wc: 1.1k+ cw: she's quite steamy, allusions to sex

“I had a good time tonight.”

You giggle at your husband’s words, despite them being completely serious. “We should do it again sometimes, yeah?” He adds, hands grasping at your waist as he walks you to the front door, his chest almost flat against your back.

Even though James is the one with the key, he doesn’t let go of you when you’re both perched on the doorstep surrounded by darkness, instead nuzzling his nose into the crook of your neck, deeply inhaling the scent of your familiar perfume, now settled into your skin. When you try taking a step forward, James’s hold on your waist tightens and he yanks you back into his chest again, pressing kisses onto your neck.

“James,” You gasp, twisting in your husband’s arms, and he immediately presses his chest to yours, hands smoothing down your back and shamelessly settling on your ass. “What’s gotten into you?” James hums, squeezing your ass in his hands, and you see the joy it brings him on his face, a near proud smirk making its way onto his features. “I had fun tonight.” He repeats, and you bring both hands up to his chest, pressing yourself up against him and catching his lips in a slow kiss.

“You had fun tonight.” You echo when your lips part, and James nods, softly jerking his head towards the house behind you. “I had fun tonight, and I’m still having fun with you, and we have a twelve year old and his babysitter inside, so why do we have to turn in just yet?”

A playful ‘uh huh’ leaves you, and James walks you back towards the door until you’re trapped between its thick wood and his strong build. “You know, we’ve been working so hard,” He continues, thick curls falling into his face when he tilts his head down to continue pressing kisses on your skin. “And with Harry back home, we’ve had even less time together.”

He’s not wrong. The two of you are so ambitious when it comes to your careers that you often find yourselves forgetting about setting time aside for you. You end up with intimate moments in the shower late at night, or in the kitchen when you cook together on the weekends. And ultimately, it’s domestic moments like these that make a relationship. But date night has always been special to you and James — whether it’s something he’s intricately planned or an escape from the house on a whim. And yes, tonight was fun.

So you let James’s kisses get more frantic, tilting your head to give him more surface area to attack. His thigh slots between your legs, and the dress you wear allows for him to tease you when he pushes his denim covered leg forward. You lift a hand to his hair, and he grumbles against your neck when your nails drag against his scalp, biting down on the spot he’s been assaulting.

Without wasting any more time, James lifts his head up and slots his lips against yours, immediately moaning at the contact. A high pitched sound comes out of you in immediate response to your husband’s pleasured sound, and James pushes himself harder against you as he deepens the kiss, tongue sliding between your parted lips. You gasp, unwillingly tugging on James hair. He’s instantly flooded with the utter need to be as close to you as possible, so he moves his hands down to your upper thighs, gripping them bruisingly as he lifts you up. The pressure of his body against yours is enough to keep you hovering above the ground, but James settles his hands on the plush fat of your ass to hoist you up even higher. Your legs instinctively secure around James’s waist, and your arms tighten over his shoulders to pull his face closer to yours.

A slow grind of James’s hips into your core has you moaning quietly into his mouth, and James’s lips fall open as he pants in pleasure, hips bucking again against his will. It’s really neither of your faults that you’ve both gotten so easily worked up. After all, with Harry back from his first year at hogwarts, you’ve both put so much attention towards him rather than each other. Good parenting, you’d call it.

A light flickers on inside the house, and your eyes snap open at the change in atmosphere, pushing James’s desperate lips away from yous despite him trying to push them back onto yours. You keep an ear out for any sounds, taking the chance to look at James’s face. His lips are swollen and pink, shining with a mix of your saliva, and he perks up, trying to get a glimpse through the closest window.

He makes a panicked noise, and you instantly unravel your legs from your husband’s torso, letting him put you down softly. James brings a hand up to wipe away your smudged gloss, and he fishes the keys from his pocket, unlocking the door and pushing it open. You’re met with Percy Weasley, who’s halfway to the front door from the entryway, and you instantly understand James’s rush to open the door, not wanting to be caught snogging by your son’s babysitter.

“Hiya Percy.” You smile, trying to stay quiet for Harry as you walk inside, James’s heavy hand resting on your back. “Was he okay?” James asks, and Percy nods, fluffing his hair lightly. “Yeah, we went outside for a while and had dinner, and he’s just been in his room since. He went to bed a little ago.”

James lets you make your way inside, laying a grateful hand on Percy’s shoulder, and he reaches into his pocket again for his wallet, giving Percy his well earned money. “Do you want me to take you home? I know it’s close, but it’s really dark out.” Percy smiles, pocketing his money and shaking his head. “It’s alright, I’ll be fine. Thanks Mr. Potter,” He says as he makes his way to the door, calling out “Thank you Mrs. Potter!” as he slips outside.

You watch through the window as Percy strolls down the street, making sure he safely reaches the pathway leading to the Burrow. A pair of soft hands on your waist attracts your attention, and you spin around to meet James’s gaze again, letting out a breathy laugh when you find him staring fondly at you. “Should we take this upstairs?” He asks, eyes hopeful, and you bite your lip to stifle the delighted giggle that leaves you. You lean forward, quickly stealing a kiss from James, nodding giddily.

Your feet leave the ground as James whisks you away, but even as he takes you both up the stairs, he pauses lightly, looking in direction to Harry’s room.

“Should we say goodnight?”

they constantly have to be touching in some way whether it be full on cuddling or just being shoulder-to-shoulder

poly!wolfstar x fem!reader

Summary: Sirius wastes ten dollars of recording tape in the studio and Remus decides to teach him a lesson.

Warnings: NSFW / but smut is marked with ** / so you can skip it if you want / implied groupie reader / voyeurism / drug and alcohol use / smoking / duh it’s the 70s / sirius black being a diva /

1974

“Again.” 

Remus’ voice is steady as a drum, even though they’ve been at it for hours. 

“Oh, come on,” Sirius groans from the recording booth. “That one was fine!” 

“You were too quiet.”

“But I thought you liked it when I was loud—”

A buzz sounds as Remus turns a knob on the switchboard, silencing Sirius’ whining. The entire world outside of the control room goes mute, and you watch Sirius put his headphones back on and give Remus a reluctant thumbs-up. 

“He’s such a drama queen,” Remus mutters, leaning into the smaller microphone on the production desk. “From the top.”

The tape starts again, the click-click-click of the reel scratching something in your brain that makes you lean your head back into Remus’ shoulder. The red recording light turns on, and Sirius starts to sing again.

You have no idea what time it is — there aren’t any windows in the recording studio, so the entire space takes on a permanently dusky appearance. The walls are a sandy colour, blurring in and out of focus against the smoke drifting from the joint between your fingers. 

James and Peter left maybe an hour ago, the only evidence of their presence being the empty Coca-Cola bottles strewn around Peter’s drum set and the five guitars placed on the floor like a druid’s stone circle. 

You’ve been making your way through a six-pack and picking at the leftover McDonald’s that Marlene had dropped by earlier. At some point, you’d gravitated into Remus’ lap, and now you’re curled into his side like a denim-clad cat.

“Pass that here, would you, love?”

You pass your joint over to him, and Remus swipes his thumb over your wrist in thanks.

“Finish your fries,” he says, without looking up from the mixing desk.

“I’m not hungry.”

“You haven’t eaten anything today.”

“I ate, like, a pack of Oreos.”

He turns to look at you with an unimpressed expression.

“And like, six beers.” you continue, hands raised in defence. “They have carbohydrates.”

His face doesn’t move, eyes aggravatingly firm beneath the fringe of his straw-coloured hair.

“You should be a teacher, y’know.” you tease. “You’ve got that passive-aggressive look down to a tea— OW!” 

Remus has pinched your thigh. You swat him in the chest, and he turns back towards the mixing desk.

“Don’t hit me,” he says, “I’m working.”

“Oh, so you can physically assault me, but I can’t defend myself?”

“Eat your fries.”

You huff, snatching the joint back off of Remus and making a show of stuffing salty fries into your mouth. If he notices, he doesn’t rise to it, proceeding to unplug a wire and reinsert it somewhere else with a satisfying click. His hands are so big that it’s quite impressive how deftly he can make his way around a switchboard, with its fiddly wires and knobs. 

“Do you think it needs another track?”

You shake your head, mouth full of fries. “Nah.”

At first, Remus had just thought you were another one of Sirius’ tour-wives, but he’d started warming to you when he realised you’d learned a thing or two about music production after hanging out around musicians for so long. He really warmed to you after you sucked his dick backstage last year, but that had come a few months later.

When exactly he became the sort of person who made sure you finished your fries, you aren’t entirely sure. 

He hums in approval when you throw the empty bag of fries in front of him. “Good.”

You crack open another can of beer.

“You sure you don’t want one?”

He shakes his head, nodding to the fifth cup of tea he’s drunk in the past hour.

Your gaze returns to Sirius as you take another sip. He’s wearing one your sequinned blouses, cropped at the waist on his long pale torso, and a pair of velvet trousers that hang dangerously low on his hips. His whole body ebbs and flows as he shakes the maracas he’s holding, hair falling like liquid obsidian beneath the low studio light.

His head angles back when he gets to the bridge, and you have to stifle a moan. He makes the same expression during sex. There’s something in the way his eyebrows pinch, almost as though he’s in pain — it’s the sexiest thing you’ve ever seen.

Or maybe you and Remus are both just masochists. 

The thought makes you laugh so hard that beer starts streaming out of your nose.

Remus frowns “What’s so funny?”

“Me.” You shrug, licking your lips clean of foam. “I’m hilarious.”

“You’re getting to be worse than him, you know.”

“Hey!”

He lets you whack him in the shoulder this time, before reaching his left arm around you so that his hand can find a home beneath the undone fly of your denim shorts. The wool of his fisherman’s jumper is warm against your thigh, and you lean further back into his chest. 

You twist your head against the side of his neck, mumbling into his warm skin: “Can I have a kiss?"

“I’m working.”

“But I finished my fries.”

He takes a long drag of the joint, before turning and leaning in to breathe it in between your lips. The taste of tea and lemon sherberts greets your tongue when you lick inside of his mouth.

“Whoa, can we keep it PG in there, please?”

Remus groans with frustration at the sound of Sirius’ panicked voice. You giggle at his stance in the recording booth; hands on his hips as he stares at the two of you accusingly.

Remus leans into the mic. “You just wasted that entire take, mate.”

“Don’t call me mate. I can see your hands down her—”

Remus turns Sirius’ voice off again with a flick of a switch, laughing to himself quietly. “From the top.”

You think that you can make out the words dick-head and bell-end behind Sirius’ lips, but you can’t be entirely sure. The recording light flashes on again, and the track starts over.

“S’fucking ridiculous,” Remus says, pressing another button as Sirius begins singing again. “He doesn’t understand that tapes cost money.”

“I don’t think Sirius understands anything about money,” you whisper conspiratorially into his ear. 

Remus’ hums in agreement, and his hand starts to move beneath your shorts.

**It’s innocent at first — lazy circles that make you feel as though your heart has sunk between your legs. But then they slide under the elastic band of your underwear, and you let out a yelp. 

“What are you doing?” 

“Nothing.” he says, taking the joint from you and going back to fiddling with the mixing desk with his free hand. “Just showing him what happens when he wastes studio time.”

“And you call us childish—“

You’re cut off when his thumb rubs over a particularly sensitive part of you and your head falls back against his shoulder. The warning look he gets from Sirius only seems to spur him on, and he pushes two fingers inside you down to the knuckle.

The beer can crinkles in your hand.

“Don’t splash that onto the switchboard,” he says.

“You’re making that—” you moan when his fingers make a particularly wet sound “You’re making that kinda difficult, here, man.”

Still, with a wobbly hand, you place the beer can onto the mixing desk. It’s just as well— as soon as your hand is free of the offending can, the heel of Remus’ palm starts pushing against your clit and your back arches, your body bent like a violin bow and straining in his hold.

Your voice comes out hoarse: “I’m going to come.” 

“Look at him.”

“I can’t—”

“Look at him, or I’ll stop.”

“Oh, fuck you—”

You open your eyes just enough to make out Sirius staring murderously at the two of you, shaking his maracas with fury before your vision is clouded with stars.**

When you come to Remus is winding up the reel, and Sirius has disappeared from the recording booth. 

Sirius opens the door with force, red-faced and panting.

“What the fuck did I do to deserve that?”

“You wasted a reel.” Remus says, wiping his fingers on his trousers and leaving a wet patch on the wool. “And Y/N finished her fries.”

“Her fries?” Sirius looks incredulous. “I’ve been slaving away for hours, and you get her off because she finished her bloody fries?”

“Don’t be so dramatic.”

“You’re a sick man,” he huffs to himself, snatching the joint out of Remus fingers, before storming off back towards the door.

“Where are you going?” 

James Potter x fem!reader | 1.2k words

Tags: fluff, James dominates the quidditch match (obviously), comedic elements, established relationship, james is hot and knows it, not proof read because I want to get this out so don’t judge horrible grammar, let me know if I forgot anything

“—passes to Potter, and… HE SCORES! Gryffindor leads 140 to 60. Can you BELIEVE—“

But the commentator is drowned out by the cheers that erupt from the side of the stands that are decorated in red and gold, you being right in the middle wearing one of James’ old quidditch jerseys. The lionhead charmed onto the flag you’re holding roars as you scream along with everyone else and wave it around like mad.

remus lupin x fem!reader | 500 words

tags: pure fluff, sleepy girl reader, no use of y/n, let me know if I forgot anything

A/N: it's been a while since I last posted, I'm SO sorry. Uni has been kicking my butt so I haven't been writing at all. I'm still working on the Remus series and will finish it but inspiration struck today out of nowhere and I was happy to finally write again. Hope you enjoy <3

Remus wasn’t one for the loud displays of affection, and definitely not in public. But one of his favourite pastimes included the two of you, a good book, and one of the fireplaces in the Gryffindor common room.

You were curled into his side, both of your noses buried in whatever you were currently reading. Remus wasn’t sure how much time had gone by since the two of you had assumed this position on one of the soft settees, and, either way, it wasn’t important. He loved the feeling of your head resting on his chest, listening to his heartbeat as he gently ran a hand through your hair absentmindedly.

That familiar tingly feeling spread through you from the soothing motion of his fingers in your hair, and you could feel your eyes start to droop. But when you shifted against him, he turned his head to press a kiss to the crown of your head.

“Sleepy, love?” He spoke quietly and turned the page of his book.

His free hand reached forward again, brushing a strand of hair out of your face before smoothing down to the back of your head.

“Not really. Just feels nice,” you replied, though the softness in your voice said something else.

A low chuckle rumbled in his chest, and he finally turned his head to look at you. The fire cast a warm glow over your face as he admired the way your lashes kissed the apples of your cheeks and the slight furrow in your brows from your current struggle to keep your eyes from drooping again, determined to keep reading your captivating book. You were gorgeous to him like this.

Remus brushed his thumb over your temple and let his eyes briefly linger on the fullness of your lips. Finally, he couldn’t resist angling your chin towards him and briefly forcing your eyes away from the page as his lips brushed against yours in a sweet kiss. He swore his heart did a little leap in his chest when the two of you parted and he saw that cute, pink flush dust your cheeks that he loved so much.

He smiled when he heard your soft giggle.

“What was that for?” You asked, successfully distracted from your book but also no longer close to falling asleep now that your heart was racing in your chest.

“You’re beautiful,” he mumbled back, already leaning in to press a second kiss to your cheek and another one to your forehead.

For the bake sale, could you please write “³¹⁾ three people sat on a two-seater sofa” with wolfstar x reader, please?

Thank you!!

poly!wolfstar x fem!reader ♡ 790 words

There are lots of things to love about your new apartment. It’s charming, not too expensive, almost perfectly equidistant between your work and the boys’. Remus is really pleased about the in-unit washer and dryer, and Sirius is obsessed with the kitchen backsplash. But you think your favorite part is this view. 

You have a TV but you’d argue you hardly need it, what with the spellbinding appeal of your own sitting room window. You have your legs crossed on the loveseat, your knee spilling over Remus’ thigh while both of you sip coffee and watch the sun rise over the sidewalk. 

Yours is a quaint neighborhood, far enough from the hustle and bustle of town that you still have trees and quiet but close enough that you get to see people walking by. With the new chill in the air it’s a fun time to people watch. Remus enjoys it nearly as much as you do. 

“Fucking hell, there he goes again,” murmurs Remus, frowning at the man running on the sidewalk down below. 

“Do you think he owns a longer pair of shorts?” you wonder. 

“I don’t see how he can survive the winter without one.” 

thanks for reading and requesting hunny! I hope this is okay. fem!reader x poly!marauders

cw: anxiety, medication, swearing

905 words

You weighed the bottle in your hand, hearing the tablets rattle. You debated your options. It was a safe bet to take them, but they made you feel flighty and drowsy. If you didn’t take them it could end badly, but nothing you weren’t used to. You had been stressed lately, but you could manage. You would regret taking them if nothing happened and you would regret not taking them if something did. Damned if you do, damned if you don’t. You decided against it for the time being, closing the medicine cabinet and walking into your shared bedroom. 

Sirius was rummaging through his part of the closet, holding various pieces up to his body, while Remus occasionally looked up from his novel to give an indifferent shrug or an approving smirk. James was looking at Sirius with googly eyes while he folded the clothes he was haphazardly tossing. 

“See, I think this one makes- hey, gorgeous! -I think it makes my waist pop. What do you think?” He held the piece to his torso, showing off the top. 

“Can’t tell if you don’t put it on.” Remus said, nonchalant. 

“If you want a strip tease Moons, just say so.” Sirius winked, tossing the shirt into his ‘keep’ pile. You shuffled over to James, sitting next to him and leaning on his bicep as he kissed the top of your head and wrapped an arm around your shoulders. 

“You should do this soon, lovie.” James suggested.

“Yeah! You were just saying you needed to go through your clothes the other day. Might as well give us the pleasure of a fashion show in the process.” Sirius smirked at you. 

“Like I said, it’s only a fashion show if you actually wear clothes.” Remus said again. Sirius just rolled his eyes, going back to his closet rummaging. 

You really did need to clean your part of the closet. You also needed to fill out some paperwork, and do some cleaning, and go through your makeup. Honestly, you had a laundry list of things you needed to get done that you were slowly working through. Slow as in, snail’s pace. An anxious jolt went through your body as you thought about it, making chills spread over your skin and your hands feel fidgety. You tried to take some deep breaths, but they just ended up shaky as you began to pick your cuticles. You could feel James studying the top of your head, and it made you more uneasy. You were running the risk of shredding your nails, squeezing your eyes tightly as if it would keep the anxiety out. 

“You okay, baby dove?” Remus spoke up, setting his book down. This caught Sirius’ attention. Unfortunately, Remus’ words did not comfort you, but rather flustered you further. 

“Y-yeah.” You struggled out, breathing becoming more shallow. 

“What’s going on, sweet girl?” James questioned, backing up to look at your face. 

“I- I think I’m just anxious.” You shook, still picking at your nails. You bit hard on your lip thinking it would help. It didn’t. Sirius dropped the trousers he was holding and hurried over. 

“Shit, baby. Don’t hurt yourself, it’s okay.” He took your offending hands in one of his larger ones and freed your lip from its abuse with the other. They were used to this with you, which you regretted. James was petting your head gently. You could hear the skepticism in Remus’ voice.

“Did you take your medicine today, lovely?” His amber eyes searched your worried face. You just looked down, shaking your head. 

Sirius was exasperated. “Baby,” He chided. “We’ve talked about this.” He said as Remus sighed and stood up to fetch your pill bottle. 

“I know,” You said, shamefully. Sirius decided not to scold you worse in your fragile state. 

“Here, drink this.” James handed you his water bottle, opening it for you. You drank up, the cool liquid helping your state. Remus returned with your medication, watching you intensely as you took the dose. When you swallowed, Remus took your chin in his hand, lifting your face to look at him. 

“I know you have a hard time with this, but you’ve gotta look after yourself. It’s worse when you don’t, sweet girl." He was gentle but desperate as he pressed a chaste kiss to your forehead. You nodded, hiding in James' chest. He was graceful, and gently rocked you, hoping to calm your nervous system. Sirius grabbed one of your hands again, lifting it to kiss each of your knuckles. 

“You feeling better, baby?” His eyes were unusually round and glossy. 

“Yes, loads better. Thank you guys. I’m sorry I get like this.” 

“Don’t be sorry, sweetness.” James kissed the top of your head again. “Just try to be nicer to yourself. There’s a reason you were given the medication.” 

“I know.” You settled, your breathing finally returning to a normal rate. Sirius looked most relieved, giving in and tackling you onto the bed, making James squawk in protest. 

“Geez Pads, don’t crush the poor thing. She’s fragile.” James relented to stroking Sirius' hair out of his face as the boy grinned on top of you. 

“Shush, Prongs. I’m trying to enjoy this.” He turned his gaze to you. “Besides, I heard pressure helps anxiety.” He put all his weight on you, needling his arms underneath your body to squeeze you against him. 

James, rubbing his eyes while looking around: (Y/n)?

James, tearing up: (Y/N)?!?!

Harry: ...I thought I'm child of the house-

Harry sweetheart you're the child, but James is the baby.

Sirius: So, how's motherhood treating you?

Y/n: Fine, i just didn't expect this much crying though.

Remus: Don't worry, it's normal for babies.

Y/n: Oh no, Harry is fine. I was talking about James.

James, crying while watching Harry in his crib: I LOVE YOU SO MUCH!

MILF!POTTER!READER SERIE:

previous / next

Ahhh yes I can't believe I haven't done this more! It will definitely have to become more common in the poly marauders drabbles, thanks angel <3

poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 670 words

By the time the credits roll, you’re all drifting off. Sirius’ eyelids are drooping where his head rests on your chest; Remus is snoring softly on James’ shoulder. You and James share a fond look as you turn off the telly. 

You sit in silence for a few moments, your sitting room dark but for the orange glow of streetlights coming in through the window. Unwilling to end the peaceful night. 

“Alright,” James sighs after a moment, worming his arms underneath Remus’ legs and torso. Remus begins to rouse as he does, but he’s in the air before he catches onto what’s happening, hoisted up against James’ chest. 

He makes a sleepy, demurring sound. 

“You’re alright,” James reassures him in a soft voice. Your heart thumps, smitten. “We’re only going to bed.” 

Remus mumbles something like, “You don’t have to…” 

James shushes him. Remus is easily mollified, letting his head settle in the crook of James’ neck as he’s carried down the hall. You watch them go with a warm, goopy feeling in your chest and a tickle of amusement at your own fascination with the way James’ arm looks hooked under your boyfriend’s knees. 

You coil a piece of Sirius’ hair around your finger absently. “That was rather fit,” you murmur to him, “wasn’t it?” 

Thanks for requesting!

cw: alcohol, explicit themes/language (? like no smut just want of smut haha)

poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 1k words

At some point, your boyfriends evidently decided that you’re not to be let out of sight. You’ve tried to go get another drink on several occasions, but no matter who you talk to, you always seem to end up right back on the Longbottom’s settee with one of the three of them. Now they’ve fixed you in Sirius’ lap, his hands spread firm and possessive over the curves of your hips to keep you from running off. Every time he shifts his leg even a little, the heat in your core intensifies. 

Now, he laughs at something someone says, body rumbling like a motor underneath yours, and you nearly whimper. You lean back until your head is on his shoulder. 

“Siri,” you murmur into his ear, “let’s go upstairs.” 

He turns his head into yours, smirking. “We are upstairs, sweet thing.” 

Yessssss I'm not much of a physical touch person irl but James I would allow

poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 847 words

Sirius is trying to follow Remus’ example and focus on the puzzle, but his eyes keep flitting up to you worriedly. You’ve monopolized the couch, laying flat with a hand cast over your eyes and your mouth pinched in obvious discomfort. Sirius had tried rubbing your leg and Remus had offered you tea, but they’d both given up when the attention only seemed to worsen your mood. Remus suggested they work on the puzzle while you rest (not Sirius’ favorite activity, but forced upon him because it keeps him quiet) and now they’re both simply trying not incur your wrath. 

“Quit looking at me,” you growl without opening your eyes. 

In Sirius’ case, not doing a very good job. 

“Fine, sheesh,” he says, and you press your lips together like you’re restraining yourself from snapping at him. 

You cringe when the door opens, every line of you pulling taut. James is all smiles as he tosses his gym bag to the floor with a heavy thump. “Hello, my loves!” His voice is a decibel short of booming, but it softens when he sees you on the couch. “Oh, sorry, is she napping?” 

Remus shakes his head, lips pursed as he watches your hand tighten over your eyes. “Headache,” he explains quietly. 

“Oh, I’m sorry lovie.” James reroutes from the kitchen, heading for you. Sirius tenses. “How bad is it?” 

“Prongs,” Sirius whispers urgently, “don’t—”

Thanks for requesting gorgeous! Sorry for the very very long wait

poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 907 words

You’re a light sleeper, and you feel the bed shift as James gets up. You roll over, squinting in the darkness to watch as he puts shorts on over the underwear he’d worn to sleep last night. He moves around on clumsy tiptoe, likely noisier than he’d like to be but not enough to wake the other two boys as he searches around on the floor for something. After a minute he finds it, bringing a discarded pair of socks to his nose for a quick sniff before he tugs them on. You make a soft, sleepy snickering sound, getting his attention. A smile touches James’ lips when he sees you awake, and he comes to squat by the bed so you can talk. 

“Hiya, lovie,” he whispers, breath fanning warm over your cheek. “Did I wake you?”

You hum a denial neither of you believe. “Time s’it?” 

“Early,” he admits, letting his eyes dip for a brief moment to where Sirius’ hand lies limp across your chest. He stands to pull on a sweatshirt. “I’m going to the gym, want me to bring you back a coffee or anything?”

You’re too tired to know what you want. “No thanks.”

“Alright.” James bends, pushing your hair up with his palm to kiss your forehead. “Back soon, lovely.” 

You roll over, turning your face into Sirius’ chest, and he makes a satisfied harrumphing sound, arm tightening around you in his sleep. He smells like clove and nighttime. 

The next time you wake, there’s at least light coming into the room.