slythergirl666

[slythergirl666]

marauders as arctic monkeys songs pt. 1

dancing shoes ~ sirius black

snap out of it ~ james potter

only ones who know ~ remus lupin

#james potter #marauders era #marauders #harry potter #harry potter fandom #marauders headcanon #hogwarts houses #the marauders #remus lupin #sirius being sirius #sirius black #remus x sirius #arctic monkeys #james potter fluff #james potter hc #the marauders era #james potter headcanon #james potter x reader #james potter x oc #sirius black fanfic #remus loves sirius #sirius orion black #wolfstar #moony #sirius black headcanon #sirius black fanfiction #sirius black fic #sirius black x reader #sirius black fluff #sirius black x you

[slythergirl666]

Everyone’s like ‘’James is such a mama’s boy’’ but what about James being such a grandma’s boy. Even more if it’s latino James. Like, I’m convinced his abuelita was basically his best friend but he was also terrified of her. He would always say ‘’Well, my abuelita says…’’. And the scariest thing he ever had to do in his entire life was come out to her, and he fought a war,so…

Anyways, thanks for coming to my pep talk. Good day!

#james potter

[slythergirl666]

James with maybe reader having a sore tooth or loose tooth sort of thing? him wanting to have a look or get the tooth out but reader is scared? Maybe they're with their friends at the time (lily, remus, sirius ect)? :) <3

omg this was so different and fun! tysm for ur request <3

“What's the matter with her?” Sirius asks. 

You scowl at him from over James’ shoulder. Your boyfriend's hands tighten on your arms and pull you in closer, blocking you from seeing Sirius’ smug face. 

“We were wrestling last night — fuck up, Remus, we were actually wrestling — and I accidentally elbowed her in the mouth. Now she thinks her tooth is wobbly.”

“She doesn’t think, she knows,” you protest, pulling your fingers away from your tooth. “And I have a name.”

James angles your face up towards the sunlight and tries to get you to open your mouth so he can look again. 

“I don’t want you to touch it. What if it gets worse? What if you move it and it falls out?” you worry. 

“Prongs, what’s your damage? Since when do you like picking on little girls?” Sirius asks jovially, drowning you out. 

“I’m hardly little,” you defend. James takes this opportunity to push his thumb in your mouth. You wince backwards and try to unhook his fingers, but he’s too lodged, and your lips close around him as you try to talk, “Yames, get your hans out of my mouf.”

“Yeah, because my fingers have never been in your mouth before,” he says under his breath. “Shut up and let me look.”

He’d spent a ridiculous amount of time looking at it last night. It had bled, though James insisted it was from a small cut on your lip rather than your gums. You want the reassurance of his touch but you’re scared he’ll make it worse. 

His hands are as gentle as they were last night, thumb of one hand pushing into your top lip while the other probes your canine tooth. He applies as little pressure as he can. 

“It’s not wobbly, sweetheart.”

“It hurts.” 

“Yes, well, I did hit you in the mouth,” he says, shame-faced. 

“It’s wobbly.”

“It’s not wobbly. Your fingers are squishy. They press down and you think there’s movement, but there isn’t,” he explains carefully, patience unending when it counts. 

“Did you get revenge?” Remus asks. 

“One of us can hit him for you, if you’d like?”

James takes his hands away from your mouth, wipes your spit on his shirt like it’s nothing before cupping your cheek in his warm palm and winking at you. “She didn’t get revenge, exactly,” he says, laden with innuendo only you understand. Your cheeks warm at the memory of his apology. 

“Let me hit him,” Sirius pleads with you. “Let me defend your honour, Y/N. Please.”

James kisses your cheek and turns to his friend aggressively. “You can’t handle all this, Black.”

“A good man would take his comeuppance,” Remus says, grinning when you laugh. James turns to you, takes in your smiling mouth, and heaves back around. 

“Alright, I deserve it. Don’t break my glasses.”

Remus catches Sirius’ hand before it can connect with James’ precious face. 

#bahaha not sirius at the end #james potter #aurora recs ౨ৎ･ﾟ:*

[slythergirl666]

respectfully now i need to see their reunion when he comes back

James comes out the gate and runs to you, let it be said. Not the other way around.

"Angel!" he says, sunwarmed and beaming as he almost barrels you over with the tenacity of his embrace.

You're too relieved to speak. The ten days apart had felt like a hundred, and you were dramatically beginning to think you'd forgotten what it was like to hug him.

He pulls back after a quick squeeze and a chaste, familiar kiss. "Oh, and don't you just look so pretty?"

You're in your cutest sundress. "Do I look like the girls on your trip?" you ask breathlessly, posing to show off your sandals.

"Better than any of them. You're beautiful."

You grin like an idiot and tuck yourself back into his chest.

"I missed you," you say bashfully into his shirt. He pushes your head back just enough to see your eyes and strokes the side of your face.

"Missed you too, angel."

#james potter #omg i love him #his angel 🥹 #aurora recs ౨ৎ･ﾟ:*

[slythergirl666]

Could we get Sirius with reader who’s a total crybaby?? and he teases her but he’s just so fond! smut or not I don’t mind!!!! Love u angel x

I love you!! this is so cute hope its okie

Sirius only realises you’re crying because your back is trembling where it’s pressed to his front. The movie is about to end, and the dramatic penultimate scene seems to have plucked your heart strings. 

You quiver and press a hand over your mouth.

“No point in that, angel. I already know you’re crying.”

“Not crying,” you whisper, crying. 

Sirius pulls your head back so he can see your face, wet with tears. Your eyes are shiny in the dark, the TV reflected in your dark pupils. Your eyelashes have slicked together. He’s tentative as he wipes your tears, a direct contrast to his evil smirk. “It’s Wall-E. Fucking Wall-E, babe.”

“It’s so sad. He can’t remember her,” you say, a small sob rocking through your chest. You start with a laugh like you’re in agreement and know how dramatic you’re being, but something about telling him gets you again.

He rolls his eyes as you huff to yourself, tears fast down your cheeks. He aches to kiss them away, this angle only allowing for his hand to coast a line up your soft abdomen. 

You turn into him and he tucks you up, rubbing the shakes from your back. 

“You’re alright,” he says warmly. 

You sniffle. “If you ever forget me I’m going to hurt you, Sirius Black.”

He pets your head, sees an awful fat tear crest your cheek. He can’t help it — he laughs. “You? You’re gonna hurt me? Is this before or after you cry yourself sick?”

“After,” you mumble into his chest. He dots kisses across your forehead until you calm down. 

#sirius black #aurora recs ౨ৎ･ﾟ:* #crybaby

[slythergirl666]

hii! i loved your tasm peter with touch starved reader fics and i wondered if you could write something similar but james? angsty and fluffy <3

thank you + tysm for requesting!<3

You're crying hysterically.

It's been a long time since you cried this hard. It started innocently enough, a movie you've never seen about a young woman who moves to a new city and meets a guy. The movie is renowned for its small touches, its subtle intimacies. 

It magnifies the feeling of absence in your chest by a thousand. 

To be kissed, to be hugged, sure. But to be touched; to have the hair swept from your eyes, the back of your hand brushed to the ridges of a solid bicep, the fat of your hip pushed into someone else's. You want that. The simplest and somehow the most complex. It's been so long - you can't remember the last time you felt held by somebody. It drives you a bit insane, sitting on your sofa, feeling a thousand miles away from any other human, further from the possibility of touch. 

Your door crashes open. 

You flinch, and are quickly calmed by James Potter's boyish laughter. 

"Oh, fuck. Y/N?" he calls. "Sorry, can you come help me?" 

You wipe your face with your sleeves and spring up from the sofa to find James in the hallway, his long arms laden in more shopping bags than one person should reasonably carry by themselves and a huge grin on his face. It loses its exuberance when he sees your eyes. 

You take two bags out of his arms and start for the kitchen before he can ask what's wrong, though he does anyhow, sounding much too concerned. 

"Are you crying?" 

"No," you say croakily, setting your two bags down on your small kitchen table. 

James sets down his three and rounds the table, hands reaching to grab your face. You want it so badly that you can't let him, pulling away from his searching fingers. He persists. The feeling of his skin on yours is painful. 

"What's wrong? Are you okay?" he asks. 

He tilts your head upwards so you're looking up at his face, tall enough that the inches between you feel like a mile. 

"Nothing, I was- I was watching David Attenborough. A baby lion died." 

He takes a long second to answer. You know he doesn't buy it but he doesn't want to force you to talk about it, wiping your cheeks dry methodically. 

"Must've been really sad," he murmurs. 

He pinches your nose clean. You startle and he doesn't care, all your gross mess marring his shirt sleeves. 

It's that carelessness that sets you off. James pats your cheek and turns his back, starts explaining that you're having a tapas night because he had a voucher for the supermarket and everything looked great, and I missed you, bub, I thought this would be fun for us. You can barely hear him, thinking about his fingers, how he'd wiped your snotty nose clean like it was no big deal, how your cheeks are still tingling where he'd cupped your face. 

Emotions are high and you're overwhelmed by his niceness. You start to cry again. 

You throw your hands up over your face and the sobs that work through you are almost painful, gasping against your hands for air that isn't there. There's a million questions you want to ask and a heap of injustices you want to rally against, but mostly you just want James to touch you again. 

You're beside yourself when he tries, when he murmurs, "Oh, come on, sweetheart," and reaches his hands out. His wide palm lands on your shoulder and you feel like you've been burned, flinching away. He doesn't try again, but he does plead. 

"Sweetheart," said with unending patience, "talk to me. I know Planet Earth hasn't wound you up so badly." 

You peak through your fingers at him. He looks so earnest that you feel instantly awful, turning away from him. 

His hands on your shoulders, his elbow pressed to your shoulder blade, James comes up behind you in a half hug and massages the seized up flesh there kindly. After a while you calm, your tears slow but don't stop and your muscles relax under his soft touch. 

You want to put your head on his shoulder. His chin pushes into your temple and it's almost enough. His hand coasts from one shoulder to the other, forearm stretching across your back, his hand rubs your aching upper arm. You look up to him, see him staring across the room at your picture frames, few in number. The photo of you and Janes has always been your favourite, where you feel most pretty. He has his arm around your shoulders and you look a little cagey but you're both smiling wide in the foreground of a green meadow bedecked in fair rides.

"Do you remember that?" he asks, pointing. 

"Yeah." 

"We hadn't known each other long." 

"No."

"I've always been able to get a good smile out of you." 

He looks down. His eyes are pinched in concern but he's fond. 

"Got another one for me?" he asks. You smile. He smiles back. "Thank you." 

You don't talk about the problem; you're ashamed. You open your mouth to confess and the words get stuck. James doesn't mind. When he pulls away he doesn't really pull away. His side kisses your side as he makes up a big plate of picky foods for the two of you, his arm slides against your arm as he sets everything down on the coffee table. When you sit on the sofa he throws himself down as close as he can. 

A nature documentary comes on the TV and he flicks it off. "Can't have my favourite girl in tears again," he murmurs teasingly, loading a cracker up with cheese and a small slice of fancy ham. "Here," he says. His fingers brush your fingers as he passes it to you. 

You can breathe a little easier. He's making excuses to touch you, you know. Subtle and then not, the night drags on and you find yourself under his arm feeling intoxicated with his nearness, so relaxed you're almost sleeping. 

"Whenever you wanna talk about it," he murmurs, hours later when you're sure he's forgotten all about it, "I'm right here. Right here." He emphasises with a squeeze. 

"Thanks, Jamie." 

"Of course. Anything for my best girl."

#james potter #touchstarved #aurora recs ౨ৎ･ﾟ:*

[slythergirl666]

hey! this is a bit angsty so it's okay if you're not comfortable doing it, but i'd like to request james or tasm peter (whoever you feel fits the request most) when reader flinches during an argument? with happy ending and a lot of comfort obviously <3 tysm! your works are always so amazing!!!

Hi! thank u for ur request, and for being so lovely, this is a hard one to write about so i hope its alright!

"Would you please, please, stop with this? Jesus, Y/N," James' voice is much louder than you've ever heard it. "Fucking stop." 

Suddenly everything you'd been arguing about veers away. You don't mean to, of course you don't, but there's something sharp in his voice that makes you flinch back hard, a hand coming up defensively. James' eyes go wide as saucers and you put your hand down fast. 

"Okay," you say. "I'm sorry, I'll stop." 

“I wouldn’t-“ he starts. 

“I know.”

James presses the backs of his hands to his eyes very quickly and mutters something you don’t hear before taking a big breath and holding it. “I’m sorry,” he says breathlessly. “Really. I would never hurt you.”

“I know.”

Maybe you don’t know that. James is everything. But boys who hit don’t market themselves as boys who hit, you think, and then feel so instantly guilty the nausea and split-second fear metastasises. 

“I know,” you repeat, sounding less confident when you’d strived for more. 

“Sweetheart,” he says. 

“No, I know you wouldn’t,” you say, starting, despite all your best efforts, to cry. “I just didn’t expect it.”

“Sorry.”

You look down at your hands, wringing your fingers one by one. Your throat hurts, your chest aches.

“Can I do something? Anything?” he asks, sounding like a mixture of horrified and careful. 

You feel guilty for making him feel like he has to walk on pins though you know it’s not your fault, it’s not his either. Everybody fights. 

“You wanna walk over to me?” he asks. 

You trudge over without looking at him. He’s too hesitant to touch you so you grab his big hand, rubbing your thumbs over his thumb, his pinky finger. 

“Can I touch you?” he asks. 

“Yeah,” you work out, nodding viciously. Your neck clicks. “Yeah.”

James sighs, a wave of stress and frustration falling from his broad shoulders as he grasps your upper arm in his free hand. He bends at the waist to hug you. 

He’s making himself small, you realise, ducking down to comfort you. You push your arms over his neck. 

“I’m sorry,” he says. “For making you think I would.”

“I didn’t think - it wasn’t a thought process, I promise, Jamie. I- it’s just, when-“ you rub your face into his skin. “I didn’t think.”

“It’s okay if you thought I would. That’s not something you’re in trouble for.”

“No, I know, I know that, but it wasn’t what happened.”

He pats your back. “Alright, baby, alright.”

“Are you still mad at me?”

“No. I shouldn’t have got so worked up. I don’t want us to be like that. I don’t want to be like that, or shout at my girl like that. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.”

He pushes you away gently, holding you at half arms length. “I want you to feel safe with me.”

“I do.”

He nods, lips in a flat line, before scrubbing a hand through his hair. “I know it’s not easy to tell me, especially right now, but if you want me to go stay with my parents-“

“Jamie!”

“Then I will, because I don’t ever want you to feel like I’ve, like I’ve scared you. That’s not what I want to do.”

“I don’t want that. James, it’s fine.”

“It’s not fine. Something made you flinch like that, and it was me, even if it wasn’t me. Even if it was reflexive. That’s my fault. So just… I just want you to know you can be honest. That I wouldn’t hurt you, and that you don’t have to lie and say you agree.”

“Not lying. I promise.”

You’re sick of going in circles, sick with worry, sick with embarrassment. You hate that something in your past is affecting your present. It makes you angry and depressed, and the tears are a fat mix of both. 

You watch James pupils track a tear as it curves over your cheek. He’s very, very careful as he wipes it away. “Don’t cry, sweetness.”

“I don’t want to be the girl who flinches.”

“I know.”

“I don’t want to be like this, James, I don’t want to do this to you.”

“Do what?”

“I feel like I’m fucking guilt-tripping you.”

James guides you backwards so that the two of you are leaning against the countertop, one arm over your shoulder and the other holding your hand, pulling it towards him. His chin dips towards his chest. “You didn’t guilt trip me. You reacted to something. And it was a stupid fight. Stupid, I just suddenly needed to be right, and then I realised I was hurting your feelings and I- didn’t know how to stop. But raising my voice at you wasn’t the right way.”

“You were angry. That’s natural, to shout. That’s not something I should flinch at.”

“You can’t help flinching.”

He holds your hand to his tummy. 

“Please, don’t feel bad,” he says softly. “This isn’t on you.”

“It’s not on you, either.”

He hesitates. “And if it isn’t on either of us, where do you want to go from here?”

“I want to go to bed. Oh my god,” you say, laughing wetly, teardrops jumping off of your wet lashes. “I’m so tired. I feel so stupid.”

“You don’t want to talk about it anymore?”

You drop your head into his shoulder. “Maybe tomorrow.”

“I can do tomorrow. Give me a time and place, babe, I’ll be there.”

“Thank you,” you murmur. 

“Thank you right back. I love you.”

“I love you too.”

“I’m okay to come to bed with you?”

“I’m gonna start crying again if you don’t,” you promise.

“Well, we can’t have that!” he stage whispers dramatically, popping a kiss into your hairline. 

#aw i love him #james potter #aurora recs ౨ৎ･ﾟ:*

[slythergirl666]

hi could you do james maybe massaging reader with persistent back pain? he'd be a total sweetheart about it

fem!reader

James is heavier than he looks. 

“I resent that,” he says after you’ve told him so breathlessly, shifting his weight off of your thighs as much as he possibly can. 

“No, you’re fine, just don’t press on my back,” you say. 

“I have to press on it. A bit.” He leans down, arms either side of you, your face hidden in the blankets beneath. “I’m not going to hurt you, yeah? If I do anything unbearable, all you need to do is tell me.” He smells nice, so close, the after effects of his macadamia oil shampoo. 

“I feel like I’m about to have major surgery.” 

“Don’t mind the scalpels.”

He begins with very gentle movements, almost like he’s going to turn you around and start kissing you. You laugh as he pushes your shirt up, but can’t find it in you to keep going when his lips press gentle and warm to the centre of your spine. You’ve been in a lot of pain recently and your boyfriend has yet to falter. It was his suggestion that he give you a massage, and his own volition to have researched how to do it. 

“I’m gonna use more pressure slowly,” he says, making palm-circles against your skin, “and it might hurt some, but if it’s too much, if it’s even a little over your threshold, I’ll stop.” 

“I’m not worried.” You can’t take his entire weight, but some pressure might be nice. “Just no tackles.” 

“No promises.” 

He gives a very nice, very soft massage for a time, the brunt of his palms pushing into your back and up to the line of your bra. He pushes just under it and murmurs about how cold you are, though his constant touching warms you soon enough. When he begins pressing, the pain twinges funny. It hurts in strange places and James chases into knots and stringy muscle with quiet dedication, the room a quiet sanctuary made of your shared breaths and his occasional kiss. 

You could fall asleep. Your eyes closed, arms crossed in front of you, weirdly close to him but not close enough. “Come hug me,” you say tiredly. 

“Is this doing anything besides putting you to sleep?”

You’re not totally sure. It feels nice regardless, and you’re glad for it when he ignores your demand to press his palm deep into the base of your spine. 

He slides from the small to the top, where he unclips your bra and presses both hands to your shoulders. “Pardon me.” 

“Not a gentleman. Didn’t even ask.” 

“What’s that?” he asks, working his thumb into a particularly sore muscle and drawing out a staggered sigh. “Oh,” —his joking falls away immediately— “that felt good?” 

“Yeah,” you breathe, turning your face to the side. 

“Want me to do it again?” he asks earnestly. 

He massages until you’re sure his wrists are sore and you’ve discovered a new kind of nap, your back thoroughly worked over, aching and relieved at once. He climbs off of you and doesn’t say a thing about how his own back probably hurts from so long bent over you, peeling out of his shirt and nudging you across the bed to make room for him. He scoops you onto his chest, and for the first time in ages your back doesn’t twinge. 

“Thanks so much, James,” you say, eyes already heavy, face buried in his neck. 

He kisses the tip of your nose. You’re welcome. 

#aw he's so soft i love him 🥹 #james potter #aurora recs ౨ৎ･ﾟ:*

[slythergirl666]

congrats on 700! if you are taking drabble requests, could you do reader x sirius skipping off work for a day just to hang out in bed together?

When you'd turned to Sirius that morning with your alarm ringing, smiling at him in that disarming way you did, he'd known before you opened your mouth that he was going to call off of work.

Maybe it was the early morning light that flooded the room and softened the features of your face, painted you golden like a cut of heaven to behold. Maybe it was your hair, messed up from the deep sleep you'd been in, curling and sweaty at the nape of your neck. It might've been your perfect mouth, which, Sirius believed secretly, was hewn from the same material as the beaming heart of a dying star, warm and soft against his own.

Whatever it was had waylaid him only long enough to write a letter to work, brush his teeth and wash his face while you did the same, until you'd both soon found yourselves wrapped up in the same clothes as yesterday in your unmade bed once again. With you by his side, it may as well have been the luxury of a hotel bed, freshly pressed and tucked by expert hands.

You were unsuspecting of his affection, leaning your head on his chest to hold his hands above you both, messing with his fingers, inspecting his hands as though they were made of gemstone.

You kissed the tips of his fingers one by one. He shifted to bring you closer to him, kissing your temple. You looked up into his face and he preened, wondering how he'd ever wound up with a love like you.

#sirius black

[slythergirl666]

for a heavy request, maybe the marauders after you've been in a car accident, no heavy injuries if you don't want to, but just them worrying? ily <3

love u <;3

“I always thought it would be me,” James says when he sees you, his backpack falling down his shoulder as he rushes to your side. His eyes go glassy when he sees the cut on your cheek. “Oh, no way. Look at your poor cheek. Look at your arm!” He frowns, a deep wrinkle crinkling the skin between his eyebrows. “Sweetheart.” 

You shudder as he takes your face into his hands. “You’re really cold,” you mumble. 

“Are you in pain?” 

“Yeah, Jamie.” You smile as best as you can. He looks so worried. “They pulled a lot of glass out of my arm.” 

He eyes the length of your arm wrapped in white bandages. “Yeah? How many stitches?” 

“Twenty two.” 

“Okay. Twenty two presents, then.” 

James helps you settle into your hospital bed. The crash wasn’t as bad as it could have been, but it was still too much to walk off. He fluffs your pillow and helps you lay back, pulls a blanket over your legs, and then tracks down a nurse for another when your shivering doesn’t calm. His hair tickles your arms and your face as he tucks you in, kisses your cheek, the smell of his cologne a nice familiarity to cut the clinical sting of disinfectant. 

He looks like he might cry when he’s staring at you, but he doesn’t crack. “That’s better,” he says, taking your hand as he sits in the vinyl wrapped chair beside you. “They’ll be here with your things any minute now, and we can get you out of your flirty dress.” 

“It’s a hospital gown,” you mumble through a smile. You’d laugh if you had the energy. 

“Yeah, babe. You’re practically naked.” 

“Am not.” 

He kisses your knuckles. “Agree to disagree.” 

Remus and Sirius arrive trying to push through the door at the same time. Sirius wins, willing to roughhouse where Remus isn’t, propelling himself toward your bed in a rush. “What the fuck happened?” he asks. 

“They went through a red light,” you say, relieved to see them both. Sirius shocks you when he goes in for a hug, quick but careful, his hair smushed into your forehead as he covers the back of your head protectively. “I didn’t see them coming. I was just sitting there and they hit me.” 

They drove their car thirty miles per hour into the passenger side, which then pushed you into oncoming traffic. Sudden and then done. You closed your eyes to brave and opened them to find yourself covered in glass and blood with a bruise like a lash down your chest. Explaining it, remembering it again so soon, your eyes fill with tears that you choke around as Remus grabs your leg. 

“You’re okay,” James says, giving your hand a good squeeze. 

“Yeah, you’re okay,” Sirius says, quieter, his lips cold on your face. 

Sirius lets you go after a quick appraisal of your face and lets Remus crowd you. He hugs you for far longer than the other two, not because he likes you more or anything, but because he’s very, very tactile, and because you need it. He sits on the side of the bed and uses his height over you to wrap you up, avoiding your arm but otherwise smothering you in a soft affection. “It’s okay,” he repeats the sentiment of the others, kneading the top of your arm. 

Remus looks pale in the bright white fluorescents, but he doesn’t falter nor shake. He has a remarkable talent for turning everything off when he needs to. You shudder like a kid through tears, your arm a constant pang of pain. The whiplash is suffocating. Each breath you takes doesn’t feel like enough. 

Remus counts you through big breaths. “Just do it with me, hm? Nice slow breaths. You got it.” 

“I’ll get you some water,” James says. 

Sirius opens the bag they’d first ignored to unveil a shoving of things, including a water bottle and a three pack of juice cartons. “We brought choices.” 

He pierces the carton with a straw for you and hands it over. You sip at it feebly through panicked pants, the straw pushed between your teeth. Remus runs your arm with his thumb encouragingly. “Sorry,” you say. 

Three voices chime in at one. “Don’t be sorry!” Remus says, as James and Sirius both say, “No.” 

“It was really scary,” you confess, tears slinking off of your lashes as you blink. 

“I bet it was,” Remus says, “but you’re okay. We’re gonna get you fixed up and back home so quickly, dove, you don’t need to worry.” 

“I’m not worried,” —James winces visibly at your shaky voice and reaches over to rub your thighs— “I just didn’t know what was happening.” 

“It must’ve been so scary,” James sympathises. 

You look for Sirius through their embraces. He’s frowning, nearly glaring, his gaze on your bandaged arm. “We’ll sort everything out,” he promises, raising his head. “Promise.” 

You nod quickly and then slower. “Yeah, I know.” 

You’re bathed in hugs for a while. The nurse comes back to see how you are and giggles at your company. “Such handsome boys,” she says, “who’s the lucky one?” 

To which they all say, “Me.” She declares them the funniest bunch of boys she’s ever met. 

[slythergirl666]

hi honey bun! i was just having a thought about someone coming home after a night out, a little drunk and sleepy, just crawling into bed with the reader? n maybe trying not to wake her w cuddling and such? 🥺 im so indecisive and couldn’t choose between peter or one/poly marauders, but please also feel free to disregard if it’s not the one for you! kisses xx

Sirius tries to tell them to be quiet, but James is so drunk he’s going to wake up amnesiac and Remus isn’t far behind him. Sirius has a kinder buzz, opening and then closing the door for his idiots begrudgingly. “Shush. You’ll wake her.” 

“She should be awake I miss her so much I’m gonna throw up,” James says, all in one breath. 

“That might be the Guinness,” Remus laughs. His cheeks have gone pink. Sirius thinks it’s the cutest Remus has ever looked, and he gives him an affectionate smile that’s returned tenfold. 

“Be quiet,” Sirius says. A yawn comes suddenly. “Go sit down and have some toast or something.” 

“I definitely will throw up then,” James groans, bending over in the middle of the hallway. 

Remus, despite being similarly belligerent, starts doting on him. “You okay?” he asks, bending down with a similar sigh of pain. “Come on. I’ll make you a– a glass of water.” 

Sirius has spent the night with them, so he loves them, but he misses you too much to stay. He chucks his shoes vaguely in the direction of the shelf and starts up stairs. The walls move under his hand and the bedroom door proves hard to open, but he sees you and forgets that he’s drunk. You’re laying on your side curled into a pillow, arm curled around, one leg sticking out of the quilt. 

Sirius pulls the blanket back gently, remembers he’s wearing jeans, changes out of the jeans, and slides into bed in front of you. He slowly, slowly, pulls the pillow from your arms, wrapping his arm under yours and behind your back, the other just shy of your face. Beautiful girl, he thinks, a little woozy from having suddenly changed directions. 

You mumble and hug him weakly, fingertips tickling his side. 

“For fuck’s sake!” James says somewhere downstairs. “What is this?” 

“Water, Jamie,” Remus says, quieter. “You can’t have anything else, don’t be–” A sound and a laugh. “No, kissing me won’t change my mind.” More laughing. 

Sirius tugs your hand up to smile into your palm. 

“Home?” you mumble. 

“Mm,” he hums, eyes closed and heavy but his arm awake behind your back, pulling you closer to his front. “I told them to be quiet… didn’t listen.”

“You…” you’re still stuck in the throes of sleep, and forget you’re talking. Sirius laughs a huff and you blink. “Okay?” 

“Yeah. Everything was okay. Next time I’ll stay home with you,” he promises, rubbing his nose into your cheek. 

“I liked being alone for a bit, but… missed you in the end.” 

Footsteps start up the stairs. “Sorry for waking you up,” Sirius says. 

“S’okay. Make them be nice to me.” 

That’s easy. As the door begins to open, Sirius pulls you right into his chest, as close as you can possibly be, and shushes you gently. Remus’ laughing swiftly ends, and James says, “Oh no, what’s wrong?” in his softest tone. 

James climbs over the bed still in his shoes. Remus grabs him before they can touch the sheets and takes them off, and then James crawls up behind you and hugs you, Sirius’ arms included. “Hi… my angel.” 

You ignore him with a disgruntled whine. 

“Sorry we were so loud.” 

You whine again. 

“Do you want Remus instead?” 

“No. I don’t not want Remus,” you clarify. “I’m not mad at you. Stay here.” 

Remus falls rather drunkenly in behind Sirius, forcing everyone to move over. You look for him in the tangle of arms and blankets, everyone Sirius loves rammed into one bed and exhausted. 

“Is anyone in the mood for a kiss?” James asks.

“Too tired,” you mumble. 

“Too far away. Make it up to you in the morning,” Remus says into Sirius's shoulder. Sirius is having a hard time following the conversation, distracted by the smell of your perfume and all the skin pressed to his. 

James sighs forlornly. “Fine.” A pause. “Sirius?” 

He snores. 

#marauders

[slythergirl666]

hey!

idk if you’re still doing your james requests but im currently about to drive to the airport and it’s bringing it up a lot of sad memories for personal reasons - i was wondering if u could write a drabble in which a similar thing happens w james x reader? maybe she’s a little folorn and weepy and he doesn’t realise at first bc he’s excited to go on holiday but then he realises and comfort ensues?

i understand if this is too niche or if u cant write it for whatever reason of course!

thank you 💌

p.s ur most recent drabbles have been giving me LIFE - i love every single one!

tysm for requesting ily <3 hope this is ok <333

James is a ball of energy, has been all the way here. Luckily you’d been spared from having to try and match his enthusiasm while driving by early morning traffic. Now, though, you’re failing to but up a good front.

He’s so pretty, rambling away about the sights they’re going to see, and you feel the gap between you like a yawning maw of loneliness and long nights. You feel awful: James is a great boyfriend and has been so excited for this trip, a bachelor party with old school friends, you really can’t stand to ruin it with your own feelings.

You catch a tear before it can fall and sniffle weakly, furious with yourself. James flinches, head coming up from the little brochure in his hands to look at you.

You flinch yourself and turn your back to him, trying to wipe away any evidence before he can see it.

Firm hands on your shoulders, turning you to the side. “Hey, hey… what’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” you say, smiling sunnily despite how much your chest hurts.

“Angel,” he says, skeptical. The sunshine is leaking in through the airport's big glass windows, bouncing off of his skin in a way that makes him glow, almost ethereal. His eyebrows have pinched together into a dark brown, almost black line above his eyes.

You smile wider and the action of it pushes another tear from your eye. You wipe it away with spiteful fingers. He makes a grab for your hand and pulls it from your face so you can't be cruel to yourself.

“Y/N,” he says.

This finally makes you frown. James never uses your name, it’s always angel or baby or angelbaby. Names varying in ridiculousness depending on how lovelorn he’s feeling.

“Sorry,” you mutter, dropping the act. You should've known your upset would cut through his excitement eventually.

“Why are you crying? Are you hurting?”

"No," you say quickly. "I'm fine."

"You're not fine, baby, you're crying your eyes out."

An over exaggeration and a fulfilling prophecy; you bite your lip determined to make no sound as the first sob courses through you.

James pushes his hands under your arms to cross over your back, pulling your chest against his chest, hugging you with enough force to lift your feet off the ground for a split second before he remembers to lean down.

"What's wrong?" he asks, sounding sad. "Have I done something?”

"I'm going to miss you so much," you confess. As soon as you've said it you're ashamed of yourself, trying to take it back.

"I'm going to miss you too," he says into the top of your head, hand on a looping course over your back. His touch is comforting and the desperate quality of your emotion begins to wane. "I'm gonna call you every single day, angel. Ten days and I'll be back. We've spent longer than that apart before."

"I know. I'm sorry, I didn't want to cry and mess up your trip before you've even gone," you say forlornly.

"You haven't messed up anything," he murmurs, tightening his arms around you. "You hear me? You've got nothing to worry about, nothing to be sorry for."

You clasp his shirt in your hands. "I'm okay, James, really. Sorry. It just hit me all at once."

"It's fine," he says, syllables dragging. "It's okay. Stop being sorry on me."

You sniffle.

"You better not be getting snot on my shirt."

"I'm not," you say quickly, laughing weakly, though maybe you are. If not snot then definitely tears.

"I'm gonna miss you so much, I hope you know that. And," he says, weaving his hand in your hair to pull your head back gently, meeting your eyes, "I'm sorry for not noticing that you're upset."

"You're excited, Jamie. Plus, I didn't really want you to notice."

He taps under your chin with his knuckle, two quick raps to get you to lift your head properly.

"I'm excited to go. But you know what else? I'm excited to come home to you."

You feel a weight come off your chest. Your smile is genuine this time as you reply, "Come back fast, handsome."

"You think I'm handsome?" he asks coyly.

You burst into laughter.

#aww i love him #james potter #aurora recs ౨ৎ･ﾟ:*

[slythergirl666]

thank uu for 111 my babies!! ily all 💞🥹

#james potter #marauders era #marauders #harry potter #harry potter fandom #marauders headcanon #hogwarts houses #the marauders #remus lupin #the marauders era #marauders fanfiction #sirius black #the maraunders map #marauders fandom #marauders rp #remus lupin imagine #remus x sirius #remus loves sirius #ts remus #all the young dudes #sirius and regulus #james potter fluff #james x regulus #james potter hc #james potter x oc

[slythergirl666]

james, sirius, and remus

#james potter #marauders era #marauders #harry potter #harry potter fandom #hogwarts houses #marauders headcanon #the marauders #remus lupin #mauraders #marauders poly #marauders fandom #marauders hc #marauders fanfiction #the maraunders map #marauders facecard #the marauders era #marauders x reader #remus lupin x y/n #sirius black x reader #james potter x y/n #james potter x you #remus lupin x you #sirius black oneshot #james potter fluff #remus lupin x reader #sirius black hc #james potter x reader #sirius black fanfiction #remus fluff

[slythergirl666]

that sirius black grin.

[slythergirl666]

marauders facecards

#james potter #marauders era #marauders #harry potter #harry potter fandom #hogwarts houses #marauders headcanon #the marauders #remus lupin #sirius black x reader #marauders poly #marauders fandom #marauders hc #marauders fanfiction #the marauders era #the maraunders map #sirius black oneshot

[slythergirl666]

the boys w a reader who's very physically affectionate? pre-relationship >:)

like none of them are dating yet, and she'd hug and kiss them on the cheeks, hold their hands on the way to class, carry their books/bags for them and lean on them in the common room and all three of them are flustered by it. bonus points if reader doesn't even know she does it, it's just how she is, and when they point it out she's like "oh.. i'll stop, sorry" and they're like "NONONONO" THEY'D BE SO CUTE

Yesssss thanks for requesting my love!

poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 1k words

You insist on carrying Remus’ book bag to Hogsmeade for him, and he glares at James the whole way for letting slip that his shoulders have been aching all day. 

“Let me take that,” James offers for the upteenth time, ignoring Remus’ muttered “Yeah, let ‘im.” 

“I’ve got it, Jamie,” you say again, wobbling a bit under the weight of Remus’ books, far more plentiful than what you’d packed for the study session. “We’re here anyway.”

“C’mon, doll, let’s get you a butterbeer to warm up, yeah?” Sirius opens the door to The Three Broomsticks. “I’m sure Remus will buy.” 

Remus rolls his eyes. “I’ll buy Y/N one, not either of you.” 

“Spoilsport.” Sirius slides into an empty booth, and you set your load down beside him, turning around and pushing up on your tiptoes to give Remus a kiss on the cheek. 

“Thanks,” you say sweetly, and Remus isn’t a very affectionate person, but he’s hardly easily flustered either. So when his cheeks turn bright pink as soon as you’re not looking anymore, James can’t help but grin. 

“Sit by me, sweetheart,” Sirius says, setting his arm atop the booth. James thinks he views your flirting as a sort of contest, seeing who will go the farthest before someone needs to tap out. But if it’s a competition, it’s one Sirius is destined to lose. 

You slide agreeably in beside him, slipping under Sirius’ arm so readily that it drops from the booth in surprise, landing with a dull thump at your side. “Merlin, it’s cold in here,” you say, nestling close. “You think they keep it that way so you’ll buy more butterbeer?”

Sirius’ voice is pitchy and breathless. “Mm—probably.” 

James smirks at him, sliding into the safe zone across from the two of you. 

You take Sirius’ hand in both of yours, frowning and rubbing at it. “See, your hand is freezing! This is ridiculous.” 

Remus reappears with four pitchers, grinning knowingly at the shell-shocked look on Sirius’ face. “I’ll be expecting the two of you to pay me back,” he says to James and Sirius, setting them down and beginning to dig through his book bag. “Merlin, if I can finish Slughorn’s essay while we're here it’ll be a miracle.”

James blows gently on his butterbeer, trying not to watch too closely as you purse your lips to do the same. “Have you started on that already?” he asks.

Remus shakes his head, exasperated but familiar with James’ ways. “It’s due tomorrow, Prongs. You won’t be able to do it in the hour before class, trust me.” 

“Wait, the one on boggarts?” you ask, opening your own bag. Remus nods, and you hold up a small stack of parchment, beaming. “I finished this morning. Wanna see?”

“That'd be great,” Remus says. “What I really can’t figure out is the part…about…” he appears to lose his train of thought as, instead of passing the papers across the table, you disappear under it, re-emerging a second later to squeeze between James and Remus in their seat. 

“I know what you mean,” you say, as though this is all very commonplace, pressed shoulder-to-shoulder and hip-to-hip with the both of them. “The second part of the question is near impossible to understand, but I think I may have figured it out. Here, see…” James stops hearing the conversation as you duck down towards your work, your hair tickling his arm and your jumper riding up to reveal the small of your back. James’ eyes follow the curve of your spine, down, down, until—he feels like a total perv, and looks away. 

Across the booth, Sirius is looking simultaneously relieved to have a break from your brazen affection and regretful that you’re not still there with him. He watches you as you speak in low tones with Remus, his eyes flicking upwards to James as if to say this is insane, right?. James nods back dazedly. 

You finish whatever you’ve been explaining to Remus, hauling your butterbeer across the table to sip at it. “Jamie, do you want my jumper?”

He nearly chokes. “Hm?”

You look up at him with concerned eyes. “I can feel you shivering. It might be a bit small on you, but it could help.” 

James is cold, but watching you take off that jumper, smelling you on it, would be too much. He forces a smile, taking a sip of his warm butterbeer instead. “Thanks, but I’m alright.” 

You frown at him, setting your hand atop his on the table. “You sure, honey? I don’t mind. I’m feeling a bit hot, actually.” 

Whatever the look on James' face, it’s enough to make Sirius guffaw. Loudly. Even Remus snickers, tucking his tongue into his cheek. 

“What?” You look at them. “What’s funny?”

“Doll, you’ve killed him,” Sirius laughs, and James doesn’t feel so chilly anymore, all his blood rushing to his face. 

Your brows scrunch together worriedly. “What do you mean?” 

Remus chuckles, the only one of them kind enough to give you an explanation. “I think what he’s saying is, even James has a threshold for flirting. You’ve just flustered him. Don’t worry, he’ll recover.” 

“I…what?”

“C’mon,” Sirius says, rolling his eyes good-naturedly, “all the touching, the hugs, the pet names? A man can only take so much.”

“Oh, Merlin, I’m so sorry!” You clap a hand over your mouth, eyes wide with horror. “I didn’t realize—I’m just a naturally affectionate person, but I didn’t mean to flirt—well, I don’t not want to flirt with you all, but I wasn’t doing it on purpose. I’ll stop, I’m sorry.” 

Sirius blinks. “Don’t stop,” he protests. “That’s not what I meant.” 

Your confusion returns. “No?”

“No,” Remus says, some of the color from earlier returning to his cheeks. “I mean, it’s nice.” 

James nods, finding his voice again. “Flirt with us all you like, but, um…would it be alright if we flirted back?”

Your smile comes like a sunrise, slow and brilliant and beautiful. “Yeah, I’d like that.” 

Sirius grins at you, bravado restored. “Good, because we need to even the playing field, dollface. Come back over here, I’m cold.”

#marauders era #aurora recs ౨ৎ･ﾟ:* #poly!marauders