#i love the freckles on james' back ♡

[dy3rs3v3]

James getting tattooed by Corey Miller, who's also done some of his other ink work in the past, between Metallica's Night 1 and Night 2 gigs in LA, 2023

[moonstruckme]

Whimsical!reader x Shy!remus 🤭🤭🤭 like the boys always try and get Remus to go out with them and he always tries to say no but James promises that Lily has a friend Remus might get along with and Remus is just so entranced by Whimsical!reader that he starts to come out of his shell and James is all 😏 “If I would’ve known it would end up like this I would’ve had you bring her around sooner, Evans”

Thanks for requesting my love!

Remus Lupin x whimsical!reader ♡ 933 words

“You can’t go home before ten,” Sirius insists, stepping through the front door as James chats with the party’s host, some co-worker of Lily’s. 

“I can go home whenever I want,” Remus says gruffly. 

“Give us an hour at least,” James negotiates as he breaks away from his conversation. He takes the lead of their little group automatically, navigating them through the house to the patio out back. “Lily’s friend is really sweet, I think you’ll like—hi!” His face splits open as he catches sight of his girlfriend, waving. 

He hurries over for a kiss. “I’ve missed you, sweetheart.” 

“I saw you this morning,” Lily reminds him, smiling against his lips. 

“Too long a period of separation. Terrible.” 

Despite the fact that they’re really being very tame, Sirius groans loudly. 

“You live together,” he complains, “don’t you think you could do this another time?”

Lily rolls her eyes at him, but James straightens, recalling his primary aim of the evening. 

“Right, this is Y/N,” he gestures to you, sitting with your feet tucked underneath you on the couch. He supposes you’ve found somewhere to stow your shoes away for the evening. “Y/N, this is Sirius” --Sirius shoots you one of his roguish half-grins. It slips a bit when you smile and nod politely, seemingly unaffected-- “and Remus.” 

Remus raises his hand in a little wave, but it does nothing to dim the lustrous smile you send him. James nudges his friend your way, going to sit with Lily and leaving Sirius to go in search of drinks. 

Lily’s done her job well. She’s chosen a quiet spot, tucked away at the fringes of the party, where you can enjoy the music without having to shout over it. James watches furtively as you take to Remus instantly, asking a steady stream of questions in your quiet, serene voice. Remus seems a bit tense, as if wary of some unknown form of verbal attack, but James is assured that he’ll relax soon. That tends to be your effect. 

You’re an odd bird, but mellow in a way James suspects will appeal to his reticent friend. Over the years, he’s found that Remus doesn’t need to be pulled from his shell so much as he needs people to crawl in there with him. You seem like you’d be exactly the right fit. 

“Neither of you are subtle,” Sirius says, returning with drinks for the three of them. “They’re going to scare if you keep staring at them like that.” 

“Shit.” Lily turns quickly, accepting her drink and fixing her attention deliberately on Sirius. “Do you think they’ve noticed?” 

“No,” James says. He has to hide a smile in his drink as you take one of Remus’ hands in both of your own. Remus’ face has turned stop-sign red, but you’re oblivious, running your fingers over his palm with tender care. “I think they’re too caught up in each other to pay us much mind.” 

“What the hell are they doing?” Sirius leans against the back of the chair Lily and James are sharing. 

Lily is visibly restraining herself from turning around to see what he’s talking about. James laughs, dipping his head to kiss her freckled shoulder. 

“I think it’s a palm reading.” 

“Oh, she’s freaky good at that,” Lily says. “I mean, I don’t want to believe in it and I don’t think I do, but she hasn’t been wrong yet.” 

James raises his eyebrows at her. “That’s a lot, coming from you.” 

His girlfriend scowls, sipping her drink. “I don’t like it.” 

“I can’t believe Moony’s blushing just from her holding his hand like that,” Sirius marvels. He shakes his head, astounded. “This has got to be the most prudish flirting I’ve ever seen.” 

“I’m not even sure she’s trying to flirt with him,” James admits. “I think this is just the way she is.” 

Sirius scoffs. “Whatever it is, it’s working. Look at his mouth.” 

James does. “Oh, shit.”

“What?” Lily evidently can’t stand it any longer. She turns around, but frowns when she sees nothing. “What is it?” 

“He’s got his tongue tucked into the corner of his mouth,” James explains, leaning over to align her vision with his. “See that little bump? That’s his tell. He’s trying not to smile.” He sits back, smug. “He likes her.” 

The more James watches, the more obvious it becomes. The faint flush that’s spread across Remus’ freckles, never really going away. The way he holds eye contact with you unfailingly, when ordinarily he’d be dropping his gaze. The tongue-tuck, which slips up occasionally as a bashful grin lifts the corners of his mouth. 

James doesn’t know you as well as Lily does, but he thinks you must like Remus too, from the way you keep talking to him without ever looking for your friend to come rescue you. Soon the conversation seems to have found its rhythm, with Remus contributing as much as you do. He starts teasing you, a familiar hand on your knee or a quirked eyebrow at something you say, and you eat it up. Your laughter tinkles like windchimes, floating over the party even after he, Lily, and Sirius have stopped paying attention. 

You move closer together over the course of the night. James’ one-hour stipulation passes, then another. Eventually, Lily is ready to go home and Remus hasn’t brought it up once. Probably distracted by the whisper of air separating his nose from yours. 

James whistles softly. “Evans, if I’d known this would go so easily I wouldn’t have you bring her around a long time ago.” 

[jeguluses]

resuscitation ✦ a sirius black microfic

— 706 words ; sfw ; wolfstar and platonic prongsfoot and black brother fluff ; fix it / crack lmao

“Hello?”

The first voice Sirius has heard in years and for some reason, the last one he expects to hear is Remus’. Or at least, he would be the least likely person if not for James’ cadence echoing through the narrow shoot to his cell directly after.

“Pads?”

Sirius calls out, his own voice grated from disuse, saturated in disbelief, “Guys?”

Then, the narrow gouge in Sirius’ cell where he’d been taking his meals is opening, widened by Remus’ handiwork, who is suddenly visible with his wand pointing at the stone. And next to him—

“James?!” He throws himself into his friend, unsure if he’s dreaming but not willing to waste a second of the reunion by taking any time to consider the reality of it. He wants to enjoy it.

James holds him closely, apparently uncaring of his emaciated form or rotting smell. “Sirius, you’re alright.”

“I’m alright? You died!” He shakes him without loosening his grip. “Moons, you better get in here. I’m not letting go of him but you know how terribly I’ve missed you.”

“Oh, alright.” Remus laughs and complies. “Let me get us out of here while I’m at it.”

Sirius hadn’t known that was an option. For a moment, he’s terrified. Worried that that change of scenery will wake him up. Then, there’s the tightening of apparation and he’s no longer in the oppressive atmosphere of Azkaban and instead in a cinnamon scented living room.

He’s free from the arms of his loved ones for an entire second in total before there's a mouthful of red hair and soft, freckled arms. “Happy birthday, Sirius.”  A toddler is tucked between them and he has tears filling his vision.

“This is real?”

Lily laughs in his arms but it’s not her that answers. “I hope so. I worked really hard to get here.” It comes from behind him and he pulls away from the woman only enough to see the source.

It’s Regulus, his hair the shortest Sirius has ever seen it, a contrast to the unprecedented length of his own. He’s dressed in a muggle button down and jacket but it’s visible only through his robes. He looks clean and light. Unburdened. If it wasn’t his brother, he might not have recognized him.

It’s with his eyes locked onto Regulus’ nearly identical irises, that Sirius loses consciousness.

✧˖°.♡︎⋆｡°✩

Later, when he’s feeling less lightheaded, Remus fills him in a bit and then Regulus, Lily, James, and Dumbledore stop by to explain the rest, the latter having joined them for tea and discussions after apologizing for his tardiness.

He learns of his brother’s bravery, inspired by the loss of Lily and James and his pride in his brother’s resilient pursuit of Peter. He finally confided in his knowledge of the locket, not knowing how important it was to the cause. Doubling as a spy for the Order, he had been in close contact with Snape and Dumbledore, without the knowledge of most members, who had returned his divulged information with the revelation of his theory on Voldemort’s creation of Horcruxes.

With everyone working together, it didn’t take long to gather the artifacts and destroy them. Helped further along by the sacrifice that Lily and James had made, which was returned with their lives when Voldemort’s curse magic had dissipated and undone each death carried out in the process of making Horcruxes.

“So, they just released me?”

At this, Regulus’ face falls and Remus hurries to explain. “Your release was a priority, it has been since we discovered that Peter was my counterweight. Secretly on Voldemort’s service. But the ministry is slow and—”

“Without us to prove it wasn’t you who betrayed us, it was hard securing your freedom. We’ve only been back three months and you’re already out.”

He is distracted by hands in his hair which isn’t surprising, Remus has been soothing the strands with his fingers while Sirius’ head lay in his lap for the past hour or so, but these hands are tiny and insistent.

Sirius shifts to look at Harry, who has crawled over to them from his blanket on the floor. “It’s over, then? Everyone is safe?” He asks Harry but addresses the room.

“Everyone is safe.”

[frau-kali]

Right here, Like This ♡

Congrats, it's porn! lol, I just really wanted to write a fic where they have morning sex in the cabin and it's all soft and bantery and they're cute. I started this years ago, in Nov 2017, months after S4 first aired. It's canon verse, set during that vague time between S3 and 4.

Now that I think of it, it reminds me of a similar fic that you wrote. Yours is one of my faves, too. Hopefully I'll finish mine someday.

In the meantime, porn snippet under the read more :)

It didn't really surprise John when he woke up hard, his aching cock flush against the curve of his bed mate's ass. He hadn't been dreaming about fucking, either, but considering James Flint was lying in front of him, completely naked, John wasn't the least bit surprised.

And Jesus, fuck, Flint was beautiful this way; John couldn't see it, but he knew the peaceful look on his face was there now, he'd seen it so many times before. It always made something warm and comforting settle in his chest, to think that he, of all people, had brought Flint to this semblance of happiness after the horrors the world has visited upon him.

Perhaps, maybe, one day, he might be enough for Flint and Madi both. Perhaps.

But for right now, he has this. On the ship, he was with Flint, and they shared these nights together, and any other moments they could steal. He slid his hand along the lovely curve of Flint's hip, his fingers pressing gently into beautifully freckled skin. 

He let his hand dip downward, sliding gently between the cheeks of Flint's ass, just barely touching there. Flint was still pliant, maybe even just a bit loose from the night before. John felt his cock throb at the memory, how he'd fucked James over his desk. He'd done it despite the reservations Flint initially expressed about how he might hurt his leg, but the crutch gave him so much more freedom and he didn't mind using it when he was alone with the captain.

And now he found he wanted to do it again, to have Flint here and now, steal a few more precious moments before the war called them back again.

He pressed a kiss to Flint's shoulder, then another, opening his mouth to slide his tongue over the man's skin. He remembered how that same skin had tasted the night before, covered in a sheen of sweat from their exertions. There was always something sweet, something distinctly James about the taste of him, he hadn't even sampled it in every form yet. Hopefully he would have the chance to.

Once more he dipped his fingers against James’ entrance, smiling between kisses at the groan he finally elicited. He preferred James to wake to the beginnings of this, rather than after he'd already started. Though he certainly had no complaints when he woke some mornings to Flint between his thighs hungrily sucking his cock.

“Fuck…” Flint sighed, his voice a mixture of affection and tiredness. John can just imagine his mind turning, sailing toward all the possibilities.

“Mmm,” he affirmed, kissing the back of Flint's neck now. “I was planning on it.”

“I thought as much.” Now Flint was smiling, John could tell. He glanced up at the window, likely taking note of the dawn, before he went on: “It isn't morning bells yet, we could both be resting now.”

“Yeah,” John replied, refusing to let that voice in the back of his mind rear its ugly head. He could hear the affection, the lack of seriousness in Flint's tone, that would be enough for him. “But what a waste it would be if I didn't satisfy this after I'd woken up with it so urgently.” John inched forward until his erection was pressed firmly against the captain's beautiful ass.

He couldn't stop the resulting shiver he felt in response to Flint's own. Or the warmth of Flint's ass, which would soon be encasing his cock so perfectly.

[flownintothesun]

LAYER 001 : THE OUTSIDE.

name : westley colin johannes henrik van der sterren (mccarthy / bernardi / pollard / gunderson).

eye colour : shifting like the sea between blues and greens & grays.

hair style & colour : curly & black — catches red in the light.

clothing style : think ‘bad boy’ who can clean up damn well.

best physical feature : the ones i write about most are his ever-changing eyes, the dusting of freckles across his nose, or the dimples when he smiles.

LAYER 002 : THE INSIDE.

fears : abandonment, death of a loved one, being incapable, not being strong enough, lack of control, lack of stability, not being smart enough, being the reason a loved one gets hurt, losing his sense of self, being corrupt / evil.

guilty pleasure : musicals. he enjoys both watching them and singing them and will take this fact to his grave — unless you’re muriel or james, in which case you already know.

biggest pet peeve : incompetence that causes trouble, people who don’t respect the boundaries of his loved ones.

ambitions for the future : to be happy and loved.

 LAYER 003 : THOUGHTS.  

first thoughts waking up : coffee now pls.

what they think about most : @batteredoptimist’s james and muriel, tbh. how to love them, how to keep them safe, how to do good / right by them.

what they think about before bed : honestly it’s probably very citrusy, and i blame nonny for this, too.

what they think their best quality is : well, since we got him thinking about citrus fruits, he says his ass. i think his best quality is that he pushes himself so hard to do right by the ones he loves when the world did him so utterly wrong. he’s a fighter and he is so strong and beautiful and brave and i’m so proud of him.

LAYER 004 : WHAT’S BETTER?

single or group dates : single (but also this counts for his polyam triad with muriel & james)  — he just wants to spend time with the ones he loves, tbh. he doesn’t mind company, but prefers to keep dates intimate.

to be loved or respected : both, and feared too in the right circumstances. it depends on the person. by strangers? respected. by an enemy? feared. by those he loves? loved, loved, loved.

beauty or brains : he says that muriel tells him that he has both. but ehm, in a partner? i don’t think that it’s that black and white and neither does he. beauty becomes beauty when it’s something beloved, and intelligence is such a broad spectrum of knowledge. westley says (and i agree) that there is no one person that is more or less this than anyone else in the right eyes.

dogs or cats : dogs, but he loves both and he basically is a wee feral kitten. he has a golden retriever named ‘baby’ that he adores in one of my main / closed nonny-verses though and thus...dogs, but also all creatures great and small. ♡

LAYER 005 : DO THEY ...?

lie : he values honesty in relationships but he will absolutely lie to every single other person in his life that isn’t intimately close.

believe in themselves : he has a weird relationship with this, and it kind of teeters back and forth.

believe in love : of course he does. he’s loved too deeply to doubt that love is one of the greatest forces on earth.

want someone : *waves at james and muriel* but also, he wants ‘home’ and ‘family’.

LAYER 006 : HAVE THEY EVER ...?

been on stage : verse-dependent.

changed who they were to fit in : sure. he’ll do whatever it takes in a pinch to get himself and his loved ones out of or into whatever scenario presents itself.

LAYER 007 : FAVOURITES

favourite colour : gold

favourite animal : he says don’t make him choose. he seems to have an affinity for pretty much all animals — but maybe dogs and birds?

favourite book :   he has adhd and has trouble focusing if it’s not special interest. he likes to make up / tell stories, or hear them from others. if he wants to learn something though, he will BURY himself in source material.

favourite game :  no one plays board games or video games with him, he’s absolutely relentless.

LAYER 008 : AGE

day their next birthday will be : june 26, 2023.

how old will they be : verse-dependent. infinite, or technically somewhere between 26-28.

LAYER 009 : FINISH THE SENTENCE

i love my husbands.

i feel deeply, sometimes i feel too much.

i hide from rejection. i don’t want to be a disappointment.

i miss feeling as though i belonged somewhere in the world.

i (rarely) have all the answers.

[canonatypical]

Hi! I saw that your requests are open and that you're writing for Billy and Eddie :) Could i please get what it would be like to be in a poly relationship with the two of them ? With a male or gender neutral reader please, who also share their music taste. Thank you!

Oh my gosh, of course! Love the thought of being in a Billy / Eddie sandwich tbh. Sorry that this has taken so long to get to you!

Warnings: Smoking, Polyamorous Relationship I didn't specify reader's gender in this piece, so feel free to interpret how you wish. ♡

Smoke wafts upward towards the dingy ceiling of Eddie's room; Billy's familiar, comforting weight leans back against you as the two of you find yourselves atop Eddie's bed. This is his favorite spot, Billy has long decided: this space with the two of you, free from the tortures of his father's wrath, free from judgement of anyone else. It's a place to let his mask slip, to let himself relax and allow the two of you to see him for who he really is.

Nearby, Eddie strums his guitar along to the sounds of Quiet Riot's Cum On Feel The Noize that plays quietly on the stereo that sits on the floor, his fingers sliding up and down the neck of the guitar with ease as he plays along to the solo. Billy inhales a breath of nicotine before puffing out more smoke, watching as it dissipates into the air above him.

"You're getting better," Billy says, bringing his focus back to Eddie.

Eddie watches as you rake your fingers through Billy's curls, humming your agreement with a nod to accompany it. "Not that you weren't good before, of course," you add, a smile stretching across your face. "It's just you're getting better all the time. Before you know it, you'll be outplaying James Hetfield, himself."

It's almost immediate, how a dusting of pink spreads across Eddie's freckled face. He's quick to conceal it like always with a shake of his head to hide behind his curtain of hair.

"Why don't you put that down," you say whilst simultaneously reaching to pluck the cigarette from Billy's mouth. Pausing to take a puff on the cigarette, you soon pull it from your mouth and breathe out a cloud of smoke. "We're feeling...neglected," you tease with a mischievous smile.

In front of you, Billy flashes his typical grin, baring perfect teeth before echoing your sentiment. "Yeah, Munson. You heard 'em, get over here."

Eddie is all too happy to oblige, immediately turning to set his guitar in its rightful place before sauntering over to his bed where the two of you lie, the cigarette in your hand still expelling a small stream of smoke that rises towards the ceiling. Plucking it from your grasp with minimal protest on your end, Eddie stamps it out onto the nearby ashtray prior to quelling your objections with a sealing of his lips over yours. It feels as if barely a moment has passed before he feels the familiar tugging of Billy's hand on the necklace that Eddie wears, redirecting his attention and his mouth southward to where Billy lies.

Somewhere nearby, Eddies mixtape clicks over to Mötley Crüe's Home Sweet Home.