#poly!marauders x black reader | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

singmyaubade · 4 months ago

Text

Good Luck Babe

poly!marauders x nerd!female!reader

summary: after being a wallflower throughout your first five years at hogwarts, you always thought that you could be invisible. but when you hear the marauders talking cruelly about you and proceeding to ask for your forgiveness after, well good luck babe.

warnings: eventual smut! 18+ heavy angst, cursing, reader wants to kill the marauders , swearing, unprotected sex, praise, oral (male receiving), jealousy

a/n: oh hey... this is kinda based on those cliche 2000's movies where the girl is ugly but not really and she has that glow up or whatever. this was written so quick and not proofread, don't kill me. i hope you enjoy and as always, i apologize if you hate this!

STARTING off your sixth year at Hogwarts being an entirely new person wasn't something that you had planned or expected.

On the inside, you felt exactly the same, the same girl who was bold and could ferociously win a fight when it came to her character.

The same girl who was witty and sarcastic, surprising half of the people around you when you made a joke once in a lifetime.

But on the outside, you didn't have an awkward mis-shaped bob and you no longer wore baggy jackets that didn't do a thing for your figure.

And you didn't hide your face anymore, trying your best to be invisible.

It wasn't that you were shy or that you felt like a loser but you thought social hierarchy was bullshit and the only thing you wanted to focus on was your studies.

You may have been a brave Gryffindor on the inside but on the outside, you had to play the part of a shy mouse as corny as that sounds.

Unfortunately for you, invisibility only tends to last for so long until one moment, you are a nobody and then all eyes are upon you.

And maybe, just maybe, if you hadn't heard the Marauders discussing you the previous year, you would have stayed the same.

You had passed by the boys dormitory to give Remus his textbooks back as you always did when you let you borrow when you heard them speaking of the very person behind the door,

"I still have yet to understand why Lily and the rest of them act like she's some charity case," James huffed, "I mean, she's not some sick patient, they only feel the need to pity her because of how she looks."

You always knew that James had a foul mouth but to be speaking about someone like this, it was cruel.

Remus hissed, "That's not nice Prongs,"

"I'm not even saying it to be a dick!" James groaned, "I just mean, I pity her more for the fact that they don't even invite her to anything outside of breakfast and dinner," He explained, causing Remus to go silent.

Sirius chuckled, shaking his head. "That's absolutely horrid."

James reclined on his bed, a smirk playing on his lips. "I’m just saying, if I were Y/N, I’d be mortified."

Your eyes widened as they began to water, they were speaking about you.

Remus leaned against the wall, a thoughtful expression crossing his face. "Maybe she just doesn’t want to hang out with Lily and the others."

"Moony, seriously," James shot back, sitting up. "Where is Y/N right now, and where are the other girls?" His eyebrow cocked, trying to make his point as Remus silenced.

Sirius raised an eyebrow, a glint of mischief in his eyes. "Why don’t we investigate for ourselves?" He unfolded the Marauder's Map with a flourish. "Alright, we’ve got Lily, Dorcas, Mary, and Marlene all at Hogsmeade, but Y/N is..." His voice trailed off, eyes narrowing.

James leaned closer, annoyance creeping into his tone as he grabbed the map, "She's-" He stopped, the color fading from his face.

"Fucking spit it out!" Remus said next as he snatched the map finally and saw that the map had shown that you were right outside their door.

"Shit!" You heard Remus say as he started making his way to the door.

Hearing his footsteps approaching, you quickly moved away from the door, bolting for your room.

Once you made it back to your dorm, you had sinked the floor. You put your hand on your mouth, muffling yourself as you cried silently.

You honestly hated to even say it but you did consider Lily and the rest of them your friends. You had never really thought about how they didn't invite you to places.

And if you were being truthful, they had never asked you to have breakfast or dinner with them.

You had always just assumed that you could join but they never told you to leave or swooshed you off. Another part of you hated how stupid you were, trying to intrude on their private time.

You didn't want to let it get to you what a bunch of seventeen year old boys were saying but it did sting horribly.

But in a way, it also motivated you to be who you were on the inside. You already had the top marks in your entire year and your plan to work in the Ministry after Hogwarts had already been set.

And now your chance to be something at Hogwarts was right in front of you, an opportunity that you couldn't miss.

You had to do it for yourself.

The Marauders had no idea who you truly were or even cared to know. And although Remus was kind to you, you could always see that he never made any effort to be your friend.

Not that you expected him to but it only taught you that they truly thought you were some hopeless case.

And an assignment to make the Marauders bite their tongues was one that you couldn't bare to fail.

After hearing that, you decided to avoid the Marauders for the next month, especially with summer break approaching. To your surprise, you barely saw them outside of classes, never giving them a chance to reach out—even Remus.

And then that summer, everything changed. You let your hair grow past your shoulders, embracing your natural curls instead of straightening them. You started wearing clothes that were trendy and form-fitting, a huge contrast to your old style.

You discovered a newfound love for self-care, enjoying the process far more than you expected. Each day felt like a transformation, and by the end of summer, your mother couldn’t help but notice. “Finally listening to me about your style, huh?” she teased.

You only laughed as you embraced her,

If only she knew what had caused it in the first place.

As you said goodbye to your family, anticipation mingled with dread. You knew the train ride would be the least of your worries, but the welcome dinner and the ceremony ahead felt like they might just be hell reincarnate.

As you entered Hogwarts, you admired it as much as you did when you were a first year. The castle was something you considered a second home and everything about it was magical, there was no doubting that.

A crowd of students, including yourself, moved toward the Great Hall, and you settled into your usual seat at the Gryffindor table.

You spotted the Marauders and the usual group of girls approaching, and you couldn’t help but roll your eyes. They took their usual spots in front of you, with the girls on one side and the boys on the other. James sat beside you, and Lily was directly in front of him.

You never quite understood why they arranged themselves like that, but it hardly mattered in the moment.

They were busy in conversation before James had noticed someone next to him, his eyes widening. You couldn't quite read his face but it seemed like a mix of confusion and flustered.

You stared at him back but he still had yet to mutter a word. You cleared your throat, "Uh hello," You practically whispered.

He snapped back into reality, "Oh sorry, hi," He muttered back.

Silence took over you both as James couldn't find the words of what to say to you.

On one hand, he wanted to call you beautiful, to tell you that you were one of the prettiest girls he’d ever seen. On the other, he just wanted to stare at you for a few more minutes like a creep.

Lily noticed his gaze and leaned in, smirking. "Excuse my friend; we’re still trying to figure out if he has a brain."

"I thought we solved that decades ago," Marlene chimed in, stifling a laugh.

Lily turned to you with a curious smile. "I don’t believe I’ve seen you before. What’s your name?"

Are you actually fucking kidding me?

You scoffed, "I'm Y/N,"

The entire group looked at you in awe, even the ones who weren't chimed in on the conversation.

"Y/N L/N?" Sirius asked, mouth gaping.

"Yep, that one," You snorted.

They all looked like they had seen a ghost, "You look different," Marlene said as Mary shoved her.

"She means in a good way!" Mary added.

"Uh thanks," You said, awkwardly.

They all continued to stare at you like you were an exhibit in a museum, their eyes scanning you up and down.

"Do you all mind not staring at me?" you asked, trying to break the tension. They all looked away, feigning innocence as they muttered apologies.

"How have you been?" Lily asked, clearly trying to ease the awkwardness.

"Fine," you replied, your tone clipped.

You caught the pained expressions on the Marauders' faces, realizing they were the reason for your dismissive attitude.

"That's great," Lily said, forcing a smile.

You felt a wave of frustration at the awkwardness surrouding you and decided it was time to escape. "I'm gonna go to the bathroom," you announced, heading toward the exit before they could respond.

As you walked away, you could already here the mutters and whispers emerging from the table, the fascinating topic being you.

You paced as you heard footsteps trailing behind you, but you ignored them, letting your gaze wander around the castle.

"Y/N!" someone called out, startling you.

You turned to see Sirius, James, and Remus hurrying after you. You only let out a snort before continuing your same way.

A hand suddenly reached around your forearm as you turned to see Remus. You quickly snatched your hand away, finally stopping to look at the group of boys who you despised.

Crossing your arms, you shot them a hostile look. "What?"

"We just wanna—"

"We're so—"

"Listen, we just—"

They all spoke at once, but you scoffed and turned back toward the bathroom, starting to walk away.

You were hoping that they would realize you wanted nothing to do with them but instead, it only made them want to chase you more.

They quickened their pace, and you spun around sharply. "For fuck's sake, what do you want?" you snapped.

James took a breath, his expression earnest. "I'm sorry for what I said. I've been thinking about it since you left. I was an awful twat, and you didn't deserve a thing of what I said."

You let out a sarcastic laugh, "Are you serious?" You asked as your expression changed to furious, "You basically called me a loser and said that Lily and the rest of them were only hanging out with me out of pity,"

James hissed as your statement, feeling the razor in your voice.

"-And now you all want to act as if I should just forgive you since I don't look the same anymore," You got closer to James's face, "Fuck off."

You turned your heel again and this time, the boys didn't follow you.

You finally entered the bathroom and shut the door behind you. Staring at your reflection in the mirror, you struggled to read the expression on your face. You were furious at the Marauders, and the idea of forgiving them felt impossible.

Yet, there was a flicker of gratitude that you felt for the change you’d undergone. You’d gained a new confidence that felt good, but the sting of their cruel words still lingered in your mind.

And you knew that you couldn't let it get to you but knowing they thought that of you, even Remus. It still did things to you that you would never admit out loud.

Snapping out of your thoughts, you realized it was almost time to head to the dormitory.

The rest of the night had flown by, with first years being introduced to their new home for the next six years while everyone else relaxed in the common room. Despite curfews, fifth years and above knew they could hang out longer—the curfew was mostly for the first years anyway.

"Caput Draconis," you muttered, and the Fat Lady nodded, granting you entrance.

Stepping into the common room, your heart sank as you spotted the last group you wanted to see. They noticed you just as quickly, encouraging you to pick up your pace toward the dorm.

"Hey, Y/N!" Dorcas called out, making you wince as you turned to see her waving.

The Marauders looked down, shame etched on their faces, avoiding your gaze as if you were Medusa.

You approached them slowly, dread settling in your stomach as they eyed you like a science project.

"We were just about to play a fun little game," Dorcas said enticingly, while Marlene snorted beside her.

"I don’t know if Spin the Bottle is a great idea for the first night back," Marlene added, taking a sip of her beer.

"A little peck never hurt anyone," Lily chimed in, clapping her hands together.

Of all people, you’d never expect Lily Evans to approve such a thing. This was the same girl who nearly fainted when she heard about Marlene and Dorcas kissing the previous year.

"I don’t know if this is the game for me," you replied, eyeing the group warily.

"Of course it is!" Lily insisted, but you raised an eyebrow. "Oh my gosh! Not like that, I just mean it's a fun game for us all to play," she quickly added, looking flustered.

Part of you wanted to say no and retreat to your bed, but that was the old you, and you knew it wouldn’t help. This was a new year, and you were determined to embrace new experiences.

Besides, you’d never participated in any scandalous games for all of the years you've been at Hogwarts—it felt like a crime in itself.

So, after a moment’s hesitation, you said, "Okay, sure." The girls erupted in cheers, while the Marauders exchanged worried glances.

What if you had to kiss one of them? Would you refuse and create a scene? Would you want to strangle them for even suggesting it?

The possibilities raced through their mind, but there was no turning back as everyone began to form a circle.

As you sat in the circle, a shiver of nervousness enveloped you. You had never kissed anyone before and the whole thought made you nervous within itself.

Don't get it wrong, you've had chances but they never seemed right and you certainly weren't kissing Matthew Trunchbull underneath the bleachers of the Quidditch field.

So when you got offered a shot of firewhiskey to cool your nerves by Marlene, you took it happily as it burned down your throat.

You brushed off all the negative thoughts entering your mind,

What really is the worst thing that could happen?

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luveline · 4 months ago

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

thank you for requesting! fem, 1k

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

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

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

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

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

“Love, for sure.”

“I can see that. Eggs? Omelette?”

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

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

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

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

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

“She did it to me, too.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Sirius,” James says scornfully.

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

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

“We can go back.”

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

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

“I love you,” you say.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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moonstruckme · 5 months ago

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hi my love i’m obsessed with all your works and this is my first request!

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.

“Hi, baby.” You smear a kiss over his lips, burrowing your hands in his lovely, silken hair. It smells like his conditioner, smokey and heady and just slightly sweet. You wish you could snort it up into your nose like a drug.

“Hi, baby,” Sirius says back at you, amused. “Did you have a good night?”

“No,” you lament, though you think you might have enjoyed it at the time.

Impulsively, you move to Remus, clambering across James to get on your quietest boyfriend’s lap. He’s already set down his book, so there are no barriers to your whims as you take his face between both hands, squishing his cheeks up and kissing them all over. You think you can hear the other boys laughing somewhere beyond your lovesick haze. Remus’ skin grows warmer with each ardent press of your lips.

“None of you were there,” you go on. It’s impossible to articulate the full extent of this injustice. “You were here, being so lovely and perfect and lovely without me.”

“That’s lovely twice.” Remus seems to recover somewhat from your surprise attack. His hand comes to rest in the middle of your back, a touch just for touch’s sake. “How much have you had, dove?”

You make a petulant, whiny sound, burying your face in his neck. There will never be enough of them, your lovely boyfriends. Or maybe it’s that they’re enough, but you just can’t get enough. Regardless. You’re doomed to remain just on the brink of satisfaction.

“Enough to know that I missed you a lot,” you say pitifully.

“Awe, babydoll.” James’ laughter is at odds with his compassionate tone. “Come here, m’love.”

This sounds like a grand idea to you. You wish they’d simply all squish together so you could lay your affections on them one by one, in rounds.

James puckers his lips as you approach, readying for a kiss, and so is taken entirely aback when you forgo his face entirely.

“Oh, well,” he says as you suck a hickey on his bicep. “I feel properly objectified.”

You’re too pleased with yourself to be sorry. He flexes playfully, eliciting a string of giggles from you as you latch on tighter.

“Do you think she’s been drugged?” you hear Remus ask.

“Dunno.” James’ tone is fond. His big hand lands on the back of your head.

“No, I sort of get it,” says Sirius. The mattress dips slightly, and then you feel him plant a wet kiss on your shoulder. “You just need to get it out of your system, yeah, sweetness?”

You hum in affirmation. You wrap your arms around James’ middle, squeezing tight.

“I love you so much,” you mumble into his skin. “I’m gonna kill you.”

Your boyfriend’s frame rumbles with laughter. “Okay, lovie,” he says indulgently. “You go right ahead.”

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brokenmenswhore · 7 months ago

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first | poly!marauders

pairing: poly!marauders (james, remus, & sirius) x fem!reader

summary: virginity loss trope :)

warnings: smut (MDNI 18+), language, gender swapped dorcas cus i said so 🤷🏻‍♀️

────── ☾ ──────

“That’s ridiculous,” you said, body halting as the staircase began to shift beneath you, “and completely untrue.”

“Oh come on, you never do anything interesting! For your sake, it has to be true,” Sirius teased.

You turned to him, mouth open in offense. “I’m plenty interesting.”

“But not interesting enough to lose your virginity to Meadowes in the library during fourth year?” Remus raised an eyebrow.

“No! It didn’t happen!” you protested, “now please, let it go.”

“How would a rumor like that even get out if it isn’t true?” James asked genuinely.

“Probably because everyone knows Meadowes has the hots for her. Bet you he started it himself,” Remus answered, distaste evident in his voice.

“Are you three done now?” you asked, whispering the common room password and letting the boys in.

“So if it isn’t true, how did you lose it?” Sirius pressed.

You looked at him stunned, eyes wide in disbelief that he would ask you something like that out of the blue.

“Absolutely not,” you said, raising a finger toward him, “I’m not playing that game.”

“Oh come on!” Sirius raised his hands and smiled, “you’re no fun.”

“Yeah, now I’m curious,” James continued on, “if not Dorcas, who?”

You sighed, placing your books down and tucking a piece of hair behind your ear, turning toward them exasperated. “Why does it matter?”

“You know seventeen of the girls I’ve slept with by heart,” Sirius replied, “I’d say it’s only fair.”

“Sirius, you told me about seventeen of the girls you’ve slept with. Willingly. Without me asking. Ever,” you said, earning a laugh from James at your disgust.

They followed you up the stairs to your dorm, empty from everyone sneaking off to a party in the Ravenclaw common room that you were supposed to be getting ready for, but alas, you were late and distracted.

You sat down in front of your vanity mirror, ready to start applying makeup, when Remus placed a hand on the desk in front of you, leaning his face in close to you, his hair falling slightly in front of his face. He was completely in your personal space.

“Come on, Y/N, tell us who got to fuck you first.”

Remus’ voice was low, and his breath fanned your face as he spoke. You locked eyes with him, a sigh leaving your chest that you weren’t aware you were holding in. You were nervous to have him this close.

“No one has. Sorry to disappoint. Now drop it, will you?”

Remus didn’t move. You continued to look up into his eyes, your voice a little shaky, and you didn’t know what to do. You moved to get up, but Remus caught your chin between his fingers, pulling your attention back to him. “Meaning what?”

“Did you not hear me? Cus you’re like 6 inches away from me, so if you didn’t, you need to get your hearing checked,” you said, annoyed at your current predicament, just wanting to make the embarrassing conversation end. Remus finally let you stand, but Sirius and James were right behind you, stopping you from leaving the room. You opted to sit on your bed.

“You guys are insufferable.”

Sirius cleared his throat. “So you’re-“ he trailed off.

“A virgin, yes, wow, how crazy of me. You know, it’s not that weird, you all just have a personal body count higher than everyone at this school combined. And everyone else’s body count includes you. Can we please just forget about this?” you begged.

“Such attitude,” James teased, “from such a good girl.”

“Oh, so I’m a goodie two-shoes now that you’ve all discovered I’ve never had sex?”

“Kinda, yeah,” James giggled.

“Fuck you guys,” you sighed, partially lighthearted and partially annoyed, “it was my choice. You think I couldn’t have screwed Dorcas Meadowes in the library if I wanted to?”

No one had a response. Sirius’ nostrils flared, and Remus sighed. They almost seemed… jealous? at the thought of you and someone else.

You four were ridiculously close, anyone could see that, and you would be lying if you said you haven’t thought about them in that way, but you were best friends, and you didn’t want to risk ruining that.

“You ever think about, like, just doing it?” Sirius asked.

“What?” you replied.

“Do you ever think about just saying fuck it and asking someone, like, I don’t know, one of us, to just take your virginity?”

Your breathing caught in your chest. You stared at Sirius, a million thoughts coming to your head but you couldn’t articulate any of them. You had no idea what to say.

“I mean, I’ve thought about losing my virginity, yeah, that’s normal,” you explained.

“To one of us?” Remus asked.

You could lie. You could act disgusted at the question and walk away now, or, you could tell the truth, and risk ruining your entire friendship. You could also tell the truth and potentially gain everything you wanted.

Your voice became small, your eyes watching your hands fidget in your lap, “maybe.”

The boys all exchanged a look between one another.

James was the only one who was able to pull himself together. “W-who?”

You titled your head up at him. “What?”

James sat down on the bed next to you. “Which one of us?”

You could physically see all the boys tense up, ready to be filled with either pride or jealousy. Sirius and Remus were staring daggers at you, anxiously awaiting your answer. James kept his eyes on you as well, trying to make you feel less intimidated and tense than Sirius and Remus were.

Your eyes darted between all of them, “I-“

You were evidently nervous, and Remus felt bad. He knelt on the ground in front of you, taking your hands in his own. It was the most intimate gesture you’d received from him yet. He kept his voice soft. “Angel, you don’t have to tell us, but we really want to know. I promise none of us will be too hurt. Please,” he almost begged.

You sighed. You weren’t worried because you only thought about one of them, you were worried because you were embarrassed to tell them the truth. You took a deep breath. It was now or never. “All of you.”

They were not prepared for that answer.

Remus and James stared at you and tried to process your words. Sirius was more of an “act on impulse” and “speak without thinking” kind of guy.

“Fuck off,” he said, “all of us?”

“Mhm.”

“Like at the same time?” he pushed.

“Sirius-“ Remus warned.

“No, no, I wanna hear you say it,” he said, attention back on you, “I wanna hear you say that you’ve thought about losing your virginity to all three of us. At the same time. I wanna hear you say that you’ve thought about us fucking you.” He was standing dangerously close to you now.

“I- I have,” you said, blush evident in your cheeks.

Sirius growled. “Remus, move.”

“Excuse me?” Remus snapped back.

“Move.”

Remus sighed and moved out of the way so that Sirius was standing directly in front of you. “You stop us if there’s anything you don’t like. Understood?”

You nodded your head, but that wasn’t enough.

“Words, baby.”

“Yes,” you retried.

Sirius gave you a small smile before grabbing your face in his hands, tilting your head up and leaning down to give you a long, intimate kiss. Once you had settled in, he deepened the kiss, his carnal desires taking over. He slowly leaned you back on the bed, your legs still hanging off the mattress, as he placed one knee next to your waist, holding himself up as he continued kissing you. When your back hit the mattress, you held the back of Sirius’s head to keep him in place.

You felt one of the boys behind Sirius, pulling your pants off and leaving your lower half nearly exposed.

Sirius flopped down on the bed next to you, still kissing you as you ran your fingers through his hair.

James slowly kissed up your thigh, throwing both of your legs over his shoulders as he kissed your underwear right above your heat. You gasped, but Sirius didn’t let you break the kiss.

“Sirius, come on, give her a break,” James pleaded, “I wanna hear her.”

Sirius groaned into the kiss before breaking it, looking down to James in between your legs. “Well, go on then.”

Sirius was still feral and needy, pulling your shirt over your head and ripping off your bra, immediately going to grab and kiss at your breasts. You were embarrassed at the exposure, but everyone was moving on your body so fast that you didn’t have time to think about your body being on display.

James pushed your underwear to the side and kissed your folds, causing you to squeal. This was an unfamiliar feeling, but you were growing wetter and wetter by the minute. He pushed your folds open with his tongue, licking and flicking at your clit. You whined and threw your head back. He continued his actions, peeking up at you from between your legs, watching you come apart as he ate you out like a man starved.

“Take it easy,” you heard Remus say from behind your head, “you gotta remember she’s never done this.”

James moaned into your cunt as a response, sending a shiver up your body, causing your legs to shake slightly. He kept sucking and licking circles around your bud, and you couldn’t help but grab the hair at the back of his head, pushing him closer into you.

“Good girl,” Sirius cooed from beside you, touching every exposed part of your body that he could.

As James’ tongue quickened, your whines grew louder, but you tried to tame them and save yourself further embarrassment. Remus noticed and was not happy. He grabbed your face and forced your neck to look backward at him. “Are you holding back?”

“N-no,” you said anxiously, not sure if it was the truth.

“Ah, but I think you are,” he started, “and we don’t accept that. Let us hear you.”

“But I’m emb-“

“I don’t care if you’re embarrassed. Stop holding back. Now.”

Remus’s demanding and controlling demeanor only added at the pleasure James was giving you with his mouth. You did as he said. James continued to quicken his pace, whines and moans falling from your lips.

“Does that feel good?” Remus asked.

“Yes, Rem, I-“

“No fair!” Sirius suddenly exclaimed, “if you ask her all the questions, you get to hear her moan your name. Selfish prick.”

“Are you gonna let this be about her or what?” Remus retorted.

“I am! I should be asking you the same thing, why do you always get to be in control of everything?”

They bickered back and forth for a few minutes, but the entire time, James remained focused on you. He watched from between your legs as his tongue made you squirm and moan, and he had you nearly seeing stars.

You desperately tried to tell him you were going to come, but Remus and Sirius were too busy bickering for James to hear you. You tapped at his head to signal him, and he got the message, sucking at your bud until you finally came. Your chest rapidly rose and fell as James continued to lick you until he had tasted every last drop of cum from your hole, standing up and placing a wet kiss on your lips.

“What, did you just give up?” Sirius asked when he saw James standing.

“No, idiot, she came,” James replied, “you two dickheads were too busy arguing to notice.”

Remus’s nostrils flared. “You just let us keep arguing?”

“She tried to say something!” James defended you, and partly himself.

“Baby, you ok?” Remus checked in.

“Mhm,” you nodded.

“You got a little more in you?”

“Mhm.”

“You want me?”

“Mhm.”

Remus pulled his pants and boxers down and climbed on top of you, pulling your underwear completely off of you as he placed his knees on either side of your waist.

“You sure?” he asked, wanting to confirm your consent.

“Yes,” you responded.

“And you’re sure you’re okay with it being me?”

Instead of responding with words, you tilted your head up and kissed Remus, assuring him that you wanted it to be him. You would have been okay with any of the boys, but Remus was always so in control, it made sense that he would be your first. Your relationship with him was always a little less silly, and a little more intimate, than your relationship with the other two.

“Are you ready?” he checked, lining up his already hard cock at your entrance.

“Yeah,” you replied, “just- please be nice, okay?”

Remus smiled, “of course, baby.”

You nodded at him and locked eyes as he slowly pushed into you, a long gasp leaving your lips as he filled you up. His cock was bigger than you thought it would be, and it was taking you a while to adjust to his size.

“Shit, Rem,” you breathed out, “you should have warned me that you’re that fucking big.”

Sirius growled next to you, your words driving him crazy. He couldn’t help but pull out his cock, stroking it slowly as he watched you.

Remus gave you plenty of time to adjust before you nodded at him, signaling that he could move. He started slowly, pushing in and out of you as an excruciatingly slow pace. It burned, and you almost told Remus to stop, but after a few minutes, the pain subsided, and the pleasure took over.

A particularly filthy moan left your lips, and Sirius cursed under his breath. James appeared behind your head, stroking your hair as Remus’s head dropped to your shoulder as he began to pick up the pace.

“Shit, baby,” he moaned, “you feel so fucking good.”

“You look so fucking good,” Sirius breathed.

“Thank you, Siri,” you cried out, causing Sirius to cum in his hand, the nickname making him lose all control.

“What a good girl,” Remus spoke, his thrusts quickening until he was causing your body to jolt upward with each hit from the force, “you’re doing so well.”

James placed a kiss on your forehead and you reached up to grab his hand for leverage. You squeezed his hand, the pleasure between your legs becoming almost too much.

“Relax, baby, you’re being such a good girl,” James said.

Remus’ breathing quickened. “You’re so tight, angel, if you keep squeezing my cock like that I’m not gonna last,” he warned.

“I c-can’t help it,” you told him.

“I know baby,” he replied.

“I d- don’t know how to m- make it stop,” you said.

Remus giggled, “you don’t have to make it stop. It feels good for me.”

“Oh,” you whimpered, “that’s good.”

Remus giggled again. You were so cute, even in the middle of losing your virginity. Remus leaned down and kissed you, your lips moving in harmony as he began to pound into you. Any sense of kindness and mercy he had for this being your first time went out the window when you kissed.

Your moans grew louder and louder, and you tried to cover your mouth with your hand to quiet yourself down.

“Ah ah ah,” Sirius tsked, pulling your hand away, “none of that.”

“Rem- Rem- I-“

“I know angel, let go.”

Your high crashed over you again, your hips bucking upward to meet Remus’ final few thrusts before he came inside of you, the feeling of you squeezing him becoming too much for him to hold on. Remus stayed inside of you for a moment, watching your face as you calmed down from your high, a slight shake in your legs.

“What a good girl,” James praised, kissing your forehead.

“You okay?” Remus checked in, pulling out of you and standing in front of you.

“Mhm,” you hummed, “‘m okay.”

Sirius leaned down to kiss you again. “Everything you imagined?”

“Mhm.” You were too tired to formulate complete words or sentences.

“You wanna skip the party?” Sirius continued.

“Mhm.”

“You wanna cuddle and watch a movie?”

“Mhm.” You shifted so your head was resting on Sirius’ lap as he began to stroke your hair.

Sirius smiled. “And then maybe round two.”

4K notes · View notes

sunnami · 8 months ago

Text

❝we can't be friends (wait for your love.)❞

[credits to @artofpan for the lovely art! title is taken from ariana grande's song, we can't be friends.]

summary. fortune favours the bold, so they say. but you're an awkward ravenclaw in yearning.

pairing/s. poly!marauders x reader (james potter x reader, lily evans x reader, remus lupin x reader, and sirius black x reader.)

word count. 11.4k

tags. childhood friends to ex-friends to lovers, fluff, minor angst, happy ending, not proofread we die like remus and tonks, also a bit of spice ;3

note. asdhjf while im working on the last part of the time traveller au pls enjoy this fluffy piecee ueueue

‘TIS THE SEASON OF raucous jeering and gaudy paraphernalia in the corridors, the unmistakable scent of overly-polished brooms, mud trekking through the cobblestone floors, and jerseys soaked in sweat, rain, and grime after hours of vigorous training. The dreaded second week of school where arrogant fledglings end up in the infirmary on account of broken noses, dislocated shoulders, or sprained wrists.

In other words: Quidditch tryouts.

You’re just not fond of the havoc wreaked in every corner and alcove of the castle. But to your relief, the library remains untouched through it all.

Needless to say, you absolutely hate Quidditch.

It is a fact you simply will not elaborate on. The skies are blue, the grass blades are green; you and the Marauders are as different as night and day.

On your way to the library, the last bastion of academia, you weave past the crowd in the courtyard corridor, ears ringing from the shouting match earlier in the Great Hall for breakfast—something about the Cannons versus the Magpies. There’s a pile of books shoved inside your leather satchel, painfully bumping into your hip with each step you take. You traverse through the Romanesque architecture, blissfully unaware of the misfortune to come.

“If I study for Charms now, I can take a nap for the rest of the day,” You say to yourself, pensively tapping at your chin.

“Watch out!”

You barely have any time to react before a Quaffle comes crashing straight into your face.

“Merlin’s hairy arsehole—fuck!” There’s a sicky sound of bones cracking, a dizzying flash of white before your eyes, and something viscous trickling from your nose down to your lips. Your hands fly to your face—instantly flinching when you catch a glimpse of your fingers dipped in blood. Your eyes grow wide in panic, chest rapidly heaving—it’s only now that you realize that you’re sitting on the ground, textbooks laying haphazardly around you, shoulders quivering from the adrenaline. The crowd’s concerned murmurs are lost in the cacophony of hysteria.

“Move!”

To your rescue, is Alice Fortescue, a fellow prefect. She cuts through the onlookers of petrified first-years and nosey fifth-years. You have no doubt this incident will grace the school’s gossip column for the next few days. She grabs your arm and wraps it around her shoulder with ease. You’d write poetry of her gallant display, but you were too busy moaning in agony. She utters a few incantations to stop your nosebleed from worsening, though there’s not much she can do to help with the possible concussion.

“Did you know Bludgers used to be called blooders?” You mumble languidly, nearly crashing into one of the knight statues.

“I do now,” replies Alice, tightening her hold on your waist, the ghost of a fond smile on her face. (She’s missed you, actually—three and a half years of radio silence. There used to be a time where running into you in the Gryffindor common rooms was an everyday occurrence. Even the Ravenclaw prefects knew where to look first if they wanted to find you.)

After what feels like an eternity of trudging through the castle, you finally reach the infirmary. The matron, Poppy Pomfrey, shrieks in alarm at the sight of your soiled blouse and blood stained lips. She gently ushers you into her hold, guiding you to a vacant bed. Alice hangs back, awkwardly shuffling her feet, gaze worriedly trained on you.

“You may return to your classes, Miss Fortescue, thank you,” says Madam Pomfrey, tipping your head upwards and grimacing. “Oh, good heavens, what happened?”

Your head droops in her palms, blood trickling from the corner of your mouth—you must have bit your tongue earlier. You blubber pathetically, “Got hit by a stray quaffle.”

Wordlessly, Madam Pomfrey summons a vial from her stash in the cupboards. She hands the small bottle to you, uttering various healing spells under her breath with a deft expertise of someone who’s been doing this for years upon years now. “There,” says Madam Pomfrey, lips firmly pursed. “That should help with the fractured cheekbones.”

With—what?

As your eyes bulge out of your head, Madam Pomfrey looks over you once more, a floating quill at her side hastily scribbling on a parchment. “Concussion, mild blood loss, fracture in the cheekbones, broken nose cartilage.” She illuminates the tip of her wand, and moves it left and right in front of you. “Hmm. Any nausea at all, dear?”

“There’s a six point four chance I’m going to get amnesia,” You whisper solemnly, head hanging low as your voice cracks from the unbearable pain. “I don’t want to get amnesia.”

“There’s no need for you to worry about that while you’re under my care.” Madam Pomfrey gently nudges you to lay on the pillow. She hands you a folded blanket. “Rest now. We’ll keep you here until the morning in case your condition worsens.”

“I can’t.” You groan, sitting upright—Madam Pomfrey pushes you back onto the bed with a stern glare. “I’ve got to study.”

“And I’ve got three other students to tend to. Mister Lockhart has been dealing with food poisoning all week.” Madam Pomfrey places her hands on her hips, sighing sharply. She jerks her thumb behind her back—that’s when you notice that three certain people are staring back at you. Sirius Black and James Potter squeezing together in one chair—and miserably failing—and Remus Lupin, resting cozily on the infirmary bed with bandages around his arms and head. “And don’t even get me started on this one.”

“You love him, Poppy, don’t lie.” Sirius grins wolfishly at the matron. You make out the sunken bags underneath his gray eyes, pale lips and his unkempt heap of dark curls.

Pomfrey huffs exasperatedly. “It would be easier to wrangle a hoard of Hippogriffs than to keep you three out of the infirmary past visiting hours.” She spares you one last glance, nodding when she deems you safe and healthy—as can be, anyway. Gilderoy Lockhart rolls out of his bed, his cries echoing around the room, threatening to barf up his entire breakfast, and Madam Pomfrey is gone in an instant.

There is an awkward silence that envelops your side of the room—you roll over on your left, desperately ignoring the three of stares burning intensely into your back.

THE STORY GOES like this:

You know their names more than you know your own. Each morning finds them at the Ravenclaw common room’s doorstep—while waiting, Lily, Sirius and Remus try to figure out the password as James attempts to brute force his way in. (He had actually figured out the riddle minutes ago, James would just rather play along with his friends.) The blue-tied prefects watch endearingly as one of their first-years rush out of the tower, squealing deafeningly, and jumps right into the lion cubs’ embrace. (It’s not that Inter-House friendships are rare, it’s more common than one would think; usually, it just takes more time for the eaglets to break out of their shell.)

“I got a hundred and twelve!” You exclaim merrily, hair in disarray and eyes puffy from having just woken up. Lily grabs your hands; together, the both of you jump up and down, excitedly giggling in celebration of the success of your History of Magic essay. (You had ignored them for a day to focus on your homework—Sirius did not like that at all. It wasn’t as fun to play if one of their friends were missing. Gone off to study, of all things.)

The tale of your friendship may be an unsolved mystery to some, but to you, it’s like finding jigsaw pieces that perfectly fit together. Magic isn’t only centaurs in forbidden forests, or ceilings bewitched to look like the night sky—sometimes it’s stumbling into a random train compartment and shyly offering your bag of assorted treats. Next thing you know, Lily Evans and Marlene McKinnon are constantly with you in the library, oohing and aahing over pages of the fantasy novels Lily had brought from the muggle world.

There’s rarely a day where you aren’t spotted in a sea of red and gold. Except when you’ve studied yourself sick—and the Marauders are never fond of that.

(“I’m sorry, she can’t come down today,” says one of the fifth-year prefects, Lalita Burman, a rather tall girl with intricate curls, brown skin, and eyes that stare into one’s soul. She wakes up to banging on the tower entrance, not even eight o’clock in the morning yet—on a Saturday. It doesn’t come off as a surprise anymore when she opens the door to five red-faced children. “She’s come down with the flu. Most of the firsties have, actually. Madam Pomfrey says they’ll get better by tomorrow but Alex and I have been running ourselves ragged looking after them.”

James Potter narrows his eyes at her. “Okay. Then we’ll go inside.”

“Maybe we can help,” says Remus.

Lalita holds up her hand to stop them from barging in. “That’s really sweet, but we can’t risk any of you getting sick as well.”

Sirius stands on his toes to spy past Lalita’s shoulder, frowning when he finds nothing of importance—or really, when he can’t find you. He couldn’t wait to call you stupid for getting yourself sick—you just missed out on frog hunting. “That’s alright.” He huffs, shoulders slumping dejectedly. “Our immune system can take it. Will you let us in now?”

Her eye twitches. “Come back tomorrow.”

With that, she slams the door in their faces.

The Marauders then declare you are never, ever allowed to get sick again.)

Your second year in the castle creeps up on you without you noticing.

“Remus Lupin, I am going to kill you!”

No one bats an eyelash when you stalk up to the Gryffindor table, twelve years old and on a mission, fresh from the summer holidays. You slam your hands down onto the table, eyes ablaze as Remus stares at you, head resting on his palms, shaggy blond hair falling over his brows—no thoughts, head empty, just sheer adoration.

“Hello there, stranger,” Remus says, grinning fiendishly. “You look rather lovely—did you have a good holiday?”

You scoff, pointing an accusatory finger at him—Peter watches at the scene with wide eyes, slowly chomping on his shepherd’s pie, not an inkling as to what was going on. “Don’t try me, Lupin!” You exclaim sternly. “That book you gave me—you said it would have a happy ending! Tell me why I stayed up until bloody five o’clock in the morning crying me eyes out! You. . . you—!”

“Wanker, dingbat, berk, git,” Lily supplies helpfully with an innocent smile, pulling you down to sit with her. “And my personal favorite—toerag.”

You gape at the pretty redhead, jaw falling to the floor. “How do you even know these words?”

She hums nonchalantly, spreading blueberry jam onto her buttered toast. “A lady must arm herself with the necessary ammunition.” Lily points to a certain pair of boys—James and Sirius are currently engaged in an eating contest, shoveling pancakes after pancakes inside their mouths; so far it looks like Sirius is winning. Lily sighs dramatically, rolling her eyes, “Especially if she wants to survive that kind of company.”

“Him, even more,” says Lily, gesturing to Remus. “He may be Professor McGonagall’s golden boy but I see right through him.”

“What can I say?” Remus smirks, helplessly shrugging his shoulders. “I’m a monster.”

Lily glares at him.

Then, you turn thirteen—the dreaded age. Suddenly, you’re dealing with oily skin, acne, body odor, hair growing out of places you didn’t even know could grow hair, hormones messing up the way you look at everyone else—something awakens in you the day you see Dorcas Meadowes in the Quidditch pitch wearing a black sleeveless turtleneck—and hormones messing up the way you look at yourself.

Everything is starting to change.

You usually never blink twice when James wraps his arms around your waist, laying his head on your shoulder. Except this time, he’s gone from a gangly bean sprout, to a heartthrob with perfectly messy hair, newly defined muscles from his countless hours of Quidditch training, charming smile, eyes that one could get lost into for hours, and a tantalizing scent of mint and bergamot.

“Are you really not going to our game this Saturday?” James whispers in your ear—the five of you had been hanging out in the library.

You sigh. “Can‘t. Sorry.”

“Scared your House is going to lose to us, pet?” Sirius teases from where he’s sitting backwards on the chair next to you, engrossed in twirling locks of your hair around his finger.

You bristle at the nickname—they have been brazen with the endearments lately, you’ve noticed. “It’s not like we’re going to win anyway,” You mumble, tapping your quill on the empty parchment—there’s never any work done while they’re around. “There’s only a sixteen point seven percent chance of Ravenclaw winning against Gryffindor.”

James wrinkles his nose, now sitting on the edge of the table. “Percent, shmercent. What matters is how everyone plays that day.”

He kicks his legs against yours, pushing his glasses further up his nose. “So, will you come watch?”

“We have that History of Magic project, remember,” You say defeatedly. “I need to get started on it this week otherwise I’ll be behind all the electives I signed up for this year.”

Lily frowns, looking up from her own homework to glance at you in concern. “How many did you even pick?”

“All of them.”

“What?” Lily screeches in terror, suddenly rising from her seat to lean over the table. “How is that even possible? How did McGonagall even allow that?”

“Professor Flitwick,” You correct, wincing when Lily and Sirius glare at you. “It took a lot of convincing, but eventually I wore him down. All I had to do was rework some of my class schedules and promise him over a thousand times that my wellbeing wouldn’t ever be compromised by my studies. Otherwise he’d take back his decision.”

Remus doesn’t seem all too happy. “No wonder we don’t see you at Transfiguration anymore.”

“Or in Kettleburn’s class,” Peter pipes in.

“Are you sure it’s okay for you to be taking that many classes at once?” Remus grimaces, sharing a worried look with James. “The limit is three, and even that is too much to handle.”

“I’ll be fine, don’t worry.”

(Peter knows a lie when he hears one.)

James tenses up, jaw tightening. “So you’re saying you’re going to miss a game because of school? Like all the other times? That’s bullcrap!”

Remus hisses his name in warning.

Tears prick your eyes instantly—you’ve heard him speak like this when quarreling with Slytherins, but never to your face. “That bullcrap means a lot to me, Potter. You’d understand that if you took your studies seriously more than just going around and playing silly pranks on everyone!”

James scoffs. “Like how you take us seriously? Did you know that Lily is the youngest ever to be invited to Slughorn’s club? Yeah, she got the invitation last week. Did you congratulate her for that when she was staying up late with you to revise for your practical test in Herbology?”

“I—” You stammer, guilt pooling in your stomach.

“No, you didn’t.” James sneers. “You only see yourself. Do you know what Remus has been going through? Do you even care?”

“That’s enough, James,” Lily says vehemently.

“Well, if you think like that, maybe we all should just stop being friends!” You retort.

Before anyone else can reply, Madam Pince comes around the corner, and everyone falls silent—a tense atmosphere that threatens to choke you. With a heavy heart, you gather your belongings and run out of the library.

The months pass by, and Frank Longbottom wonders why he doesn’t wake up at midnight anymore to find five students having a sleepover in the common room with a certain eagle, each of them trying to contain their giggles and failing. (One time, the Prewett twins had run down the stairs in panic, only to find you and Peter screaming from Remus’s theatrics in telling his ghost stories during an awful thunderstorm.) You no longer visit the Gryffindor table at breakfast, and they no longer wait for you after your classes.

“It’s probably just a tiff,” says Alice to Mary Macdonald. “They’ll make up—they always do.”

Mary nods, though unsure—while Peter is gut-wrenched about it all, the other four in particular seem like heartbroken puppies when you enter the Great Hall and barely acknowledge their presence.

The snow melts and time catches everyone unaware.

“I can’t believe I’m going to graduate and you idiots haven’t made up yet,” Lalita sighs as she pulls you in for a hug. In a few weeks, she and the other seventh-years are due to leave; you’ve grown real close with her over the past few terms. Her departure is going to be truly difficult for you to handle. “Just talk it out with them, okay?”

You sniffle, holding onto her robes. “I’m trying, but they’ve been ignoring me, too.”

Lalita squeezes you tighter. “Don’t worry. These kinds of things have a way of sorting themselves out.”

At the end of the term, you present your final project to Professor Binns. The ghost nearly returns to life. It was a research study on the Evolutionary Analysis of Magical RNA Manipulation in the Catalonian Fireball. Days after your paper is published, you’re featured on the Daily Prophet; dragon tamers and professors from Spain are owling you letters of praise and congratulations. It goes without saying that such a feat had naturally catapulted Ravenclaw to the top, ultimately winning the House Cup.

(But what you don’t tell everyone is that you’re so severely burnt out after that—to the point where you didn’t want to ever pick up a textbook again. For the first time in forever, learning had become a chore, not a passion. You’d been puking out of anxiety, hands trembling as you forced yourself to write on the parchment, the sides of your fingers constantly swollen and raw. You’d study until four o’clock in the morning, and wake up an hour later to complete all of your homework. You’ve begun to masquerade as the ghosts of Ravenclaw Tower; lifeless and indifferent. Xenophilius and Pandora fuss over you, but you just lock yourself in your room and say: “I’m tired.”

Perhaps, it is why Professor Flitwick isn’t surprised when you withdraw from most of your electives.

“The pursuit of knowledge is a rewarding journey,” says Professor Flitwick on the day you visit his classroom—hours away from needing to be on the train platform. He sighs and sets his spectacles on the table. “But it is a perilous one, too. I trust that you have understood the consequences of your actions. As a teacher, I can only offer guidance when it is needed. The other professors may disagree, but I find the best learning method to be, what is it the kids say—fuck around and find out.”

You snort.

Professor Flitwick chuckles, quite pleased with himself. “If I may be so bold as to leave you with another piece of homework, I would like to ask you to truly enjoy the holidays. I hear the summer is a time for discovering new things about oneself, for new beginnings and growth. After all, learning does not happen only within the castle grounds.”)

Later that day, you board the express, purposefully choosing the farthest compartment where you know they’ll be staying in. You share the cabin with two people whose names are Regulus and Narcissa Black—this is the first time you’ve ever met them. Narcissa shares her green tea flavored candy with you. Afterwards, you spend the rest of the ride back to King’s Cross asleep.

(Right before the train arrives, Remus is nervously searching for you in the crowd of people.

“We’ve got to say goodbye, at least.” Lily nibbles on her lower lip uneasily. She once joked that she could find you anywhere—as if you two had a red string tied around both your pinky fingers. Now, it seems you’re too far away for her voice to reach you.

James drops his head down in shame. “I never got the chance to apologize.”

“She’ll appear somewhere,” says Sirius unwaveringly with a nod, taking Lily’s heavy suitcase from her as steam whistles are heard in the distance. “She could be in our special compartment, waiting for us right now.”

“Are you sure?” Peter questions dubiously.

“Of course I am, she’s my best friend,” Sirius counters resolutely. “She’s there, I can feel it.”)

You’re fourteen when you return back to the castle—you hadn’t touched a single book throughout the summer, but you find yourself well-rested; you learn how to swim from your mother; staying up all night to accompany your family dog as she gives birth to seven beautiful puppies, and scratching yourself on the bark of sycamore trees with your poor attempts at climbing.

You find out that you don’t like Arithmancy at all, strongly preferring Herbology and Care of Magical Creatures. You’ve also garnered a curiosity for Ornithomancy, the oracle reading of birds.

This year, you signed up for the Gobstone club, despite your unfamiliarity with the game. It’s led by a Slytherin girl named Haerin Seong. (It’s properly read as Seong Hae-rin.) She has pin-straight hair, a sharp nose, and the mouth of a drunken sailor.

You also decide that you want to become a professor after Hogwarts. The groundskeeper, Rubeus Hagrid, belly laughs when you declare this to him one afternoon, right in the doorway of his hut.

“Well, go on then!” Hagrid bellows, patting you on the head. “Anyone who tries ter stop yeh has got ter go through me!”

On the dawn of your fifth-year, an owl delivers a prefect badge to your doorstep. Your father, born and raised as a Muggle, doesn’t understand the significance of this, but he cries harder than you on that Sunday morning. (“My child is a prefect!” He sobs into the telephone after dialing your aunt’s number.)

The fresh batch of Ravenclaw firsties aren’t the only new additions to the castle. According to the gossip mill, James and Lily are finally dating, so are Sirius and Remus apparently. (Then, months later, everyone would be shrieking about how they’re all dating. )

You hear of the news as you guide the first-year eaglets to their next class. You’re climbing up the spiral staircase when you see the Quidditch pitch through the window. They look like flying ants from this distance. You can imagine the wind in their hair, the tense muscles as they chase after the Quaffles, the crowd roaring in their ears, victory within their reach if they just fly fast enough.

You hate the way you envy them—how easily they soar up in the skies while you watch from below, much like a flightless eagle, shackled by your own shortcomings.

You hate Quidditch.

It’s bound by no rules, unpredictable and barbaric. Most of all, it looks down on the cowardly.

In your sixth year, you have your first kiss with a boy named Augustine Fenberry. It’s extremely short-lived and awkward. You date for three months until it’s unanimously agreed that you two are better off as friends—until you catch him laughing about you with his mates in an empty corridor, saying that you were clingy, too much, and needed to learn how to shut up. (You wonder if that’s why they grew tired of you, too.)

You handle him with a quick, “Entomorphis.”

It’s probably one of the more cruel jinxes; Augustine bawls piercingly as he grows antennas atop his head, the spell forcing him to get on his hands and knees; his friends hover around him in panic, but all Augustine can do is chirp like a grasshopper in the night. You wonder if you’ve gone too far, but Haerin tells you that’s exactly what Augustine is—vermin.

You also, with great satisfaction, deduct thirty points from his House—which happens to be Ravenclaw.

(Nobody knows this about Peter, but he’s nimble on his feet, a bit of a wallflower—and he is now the newest editor of Hogwarts’s newspaper column, The Golden Snidget. By the next day, everyone knows what he’s done. Argus Filch, who’s in charge of his month-long detention, should be the last of his worries. Peter sympathizes with the wizard—but only for a fraction of a second. Because it’s not even the werewolf Augustine has to be scared of, not the pureblood heir who could ruin anyone with just a lift of his finger; not the Quidditch prodigy with a sharp mind, knowing a thousand ways to seek revenge.

It’s Lily Evans.

“Go near her again and I’ll rip your balls off!” Marlene flips the bird to the group of cowering boys. “Matter of fact, if you treat anyone like that again, I will come for your bloodline.”

“Fucking toerag!” Lily wildly swings the Beater’s bat she had stolen from the Quidditch changing room. “If you even look at her, I’ll hunt you down and shove this up your arse—until you feel it in your throat!”

Peter shivers in fear. He didn’t ever want to be on the receiving side of Lily’s wrath.

“This is the same girl who cried for an hour when she saw the ducklings in the Great Lake separated from their mother,” says Remus, horrified.

“Honestly, I feel so, so conflicted whether to find this terrifying. . . or attractive,” James whispers to Sirius.

“Attractive. Definitely attractive,” Sirius responds breathlessly, all eyes on Lily.)

Gryffindor wins the House Cup that year, to no one’s surprise. You find yourself clapping along with everyone else, but can’t help it when your gaze drifts to the left-side of the Gryffindor table. You watch as Sirius lifts Lily in the air, her giggles somehow louder than the thunderous cheering, pressing a loving kiss to her lips. James stands on the table, encouraging everyone to sing more of his praises—there’s a split second where his eyes find yours, you look away immediately—as Remus covers his face with his palms, flushed from all the attention. After James, Remus had won the most points for their House.

They seem complete—a puzzle that never really needed another piece. (You miss them, heartachingly so.) Maybe it was for the best that all of you drifted further and further apart. You now forget the way they call your name.

And so, the story ends just like that.

YOU HAVE FOUND yourself in a very tricky position.

It’s past midnight when you wake up—you nearly scream bloody murder when James, Lily and Sirius materialize out of thin air. They stare back at you, frozen in place, unblinking for the last twenty seconds.

“Oh God, I’m hallucinating.” You cry to yourself, wrapping your arms around your waist. “I hit my head and now I’m seeing things.”

“No, no, no, no,” James stammers, shaking his head. “It’s an invisibility cloak—see?” He wears the cape, then abruptly takes the cloak off—his body disappearing and reappearing in time with his actions. “Not hallucinating, I promise.”

“That’s even worse,” You say hoarsely, on the verge of hyperventilating. “Y-You’re out past curfew—visiting hours are over. Someone could catch you. Madam Pomfrey will have your heads.”

Remus chuckles—he had missed your voice so bloody much. He barely contains his grin when you glare at him. (Finally, after three years, you look his way again.)

“We snuck in here to see you all the time,” Sirius tells you, the corner of his lips tipping into an overfond smile. “At some point, Poppy just stopped trying to keep us out.”

“Yeah, I guess.” Your gaze falls to the floor as you mousily toy with your fingers. The infirmary falls painfully silent. Again. You clear your throat. “Anyway, I–I should get going.”

“Oh.” Lily’s expression turns crestfallen, words cracking from the thick lump wedged in her throat. (This is the first conversation she’s had with you in years—one that isn’t awkwardly bumping into one another with shallow, hesitant greetings, before you scurry off like a timid squirrel.) “R-Right. But why don’t you have dinner first? We brought some from the feast and—”

“Thanks, but I’m not hungry,” You rasp, slipping into your shoes and throwing your cardigan over your shoulders. (More than anything, you want to hug Lily and congratulate her for making Head Girl—but you have to wonder if it’s too little, too late; if the distance between you and her is too great to try and cross.)

You toss Remus a wary glance. There used to be a time where you could say anything to him, and now it feels like ice-cold hands are stapled over your mouth. “F–Feel better soon.”

“Thanks.” Remus coughs.

Sirius’s eyes bounce from you to Remus, mentally ripping his hair out from exasperation—this whole thing is going nowhere.

You sprint out of the infirmary without a word, hands trembling from the nerve-wracking encounter inside. You take a moment to catch your breath, to shove your heart back inside your ribcage, as you lean sideways on the wall. It’s like running into a pack of wild chimeras in the mountains bare-handed.

“That was so scary.” You breathe out deeply, clutching the front of your shirt tightly.

The loud call of your name slices through the hallway and you jump in fright.

Luckily, it’s just James—but just James sets your heart aflutter and your knees wobbly even after all this time. He bridges the gap between you in quick, long strides; murmuring your name once more like a prayer. “Hey,” James says quietly, as if afraid to spook you off.

You gnaw on your bottom lip anxiously, tucking your hands inside your pockets. “Hey.”

“Listen, I just wanted to say—back in the library, all those years ago. I’m sorry. Really bloody sorry. Sirius decked me in the face that day, which I definitely deserved.” James nervously scratches the back of his head. “It was stupid of me—and I never should have said any of those things. I know it’s been years since then, you don’t even have to forgive me. But I just wanted you to know—”

“It’s fine, James.” You cut into his rambling, having already forgiven him for that day. “Really. Water under the bridge.”

In fact, some of what he had said made you realize how much you isolated yourself without even knowing. “And, I—uhm.” You take a deep breath. “I’m sorry, too.”

James widens his eyes, then instantly shakes his head. “It’s alright. You’re alright.”

A dark red blush spreads from his neck to his prettily carved cheeks. “So. . . uh. . . are we okay?”

“We’re okay,” You say and he exhales deeply in relief. “And James, I. . . I. . .”

“Yeah?” There’s a hopeful lilt in his voice as he takes one more step towards you—achingly patient, but there’s a sense of urgency and desperation.

“I—” You look away and the words fizzle out in your throat. “Never mind.”

I just wanted to say I’m sorry for what I said that day. I miss you more than life. Thank you for staying by my side all those years—for being one of my best friends. You make me feel safe, James Potter. You are one of the most intelligent and caring wizards I know. How anyone can think otherwise is baffling to me. I’m sorry if I don’t let you know that more often.

“See you around, James.” With that, you turn and leave.

Perhaps, some things are better left unsaid.

(So why is your heart shattering into a million pieces?)

“TODAY, WE ARE GOING TO be interpreting messages from the divine!”

On a lovely Friday morning, Professor Nasenyana drags the class out to the grounds for a hands-on Divination lecture, the groundskeeper’s hut within sight. He unlocks the barn nearby, where flocks of various bird species take to the skies instantly. He’s a rather eccentric fellow with one of the friendliest smiles you’ve ever seen. Most of the Ravenclaws are also star-struck, hanging onto his every word. As it turns out, Nasenyana is a graduate from Uagadou, the top school for Astronomy and Divination.

“Ornithomancy—!” He proclaims, flashy cloak billowing, startling some of the Gryffindors from their sleep. “It is a form of divination that looks into the behavior of birds—celestial creatures blessed with the ability to traverse through the heavens and the earth. But, you see, it is more than that. It requires utmost concentration and mastery. To pass this class, you will need to—”

“I told you we didn’t miss anything important!”

“Pads, shut up.”

Sirius and Remus come rolling down the hill. Remus’s robes are disheveled, whereas Sirius’s tie is loosely hanging around his shirt, sleeves folded up. They nearly crash into Professor Nasenyana—who doesn’t appear to be pleased with their tardiness. You notice Remus’s flushed cheeks, the sweat running down the sides of his forehead, and the pinkish bruises on the column of Sirius’s neck.

Lily chortles.

Oh.

You blush deeply—that is so none of your business.

“Mister Black! Mister Lupin! So nice of you to finally join us.” Professor Nasenyana exclaims. “I trust that it won’t take you thirty more minutes to find a place to sit?” He gestures to the assembly of students sitting down on the grass, some shielding the sunlight from their face with the Divination textbook, and others transfiguring their school robes into a picnic mat. “Take your seats, gentlemen.”

“And that is five points from Gryffindor. Each.” Professor Nasenyana declares just as Remus and Sirius plop down on the closest patch of grass to them.

Which happens to be right beside you.

You pour all your attention on the teacher, and not how warm Sirius feels next to you.

“As I was saying,” Professor Nasenyana continues, hands folded behind his back, eyes gleaming with anticipation. “In order to pass this class, you will form groups of three where your task is to read each other’s fortune based on the information presented to you and document your findings. Everything you need for interpretation is in your textbooks. You will hand this assignment in after the winter holidays. I expect excellence from each and every one of you. Failure to comply will result in a Dreadful.”

Gilderoy’s arm shoots up in the air.

“Shall I guess your question, Mister Lockhart?” Nasenyana grins blindingly. “Your groups will be determined by fate—those closest to you will read your fortune, and you theirs.”

He lowers his arm with a bright blush.

You, however, are frozen in place, sitting cross-legged on the ground with a robe strewn over your lap—you even hold your breath from the shock. Fate must be mocking you right now. Spending the next few weeks in close proximity with the boys who held your fragile, little heart in their hands.

How fun.

Not.

FOR THE FIRST TIME in forever, you don’t pay attention in Charms.

The thought of working with Remus and Sirius haunts you so much that you burrow your head in your arms for the entirety of Professor Flitwick’s lesson. Your seatmate, Xenophilius, watches in horror as you flub the enunciation for Ascendio. Thankfully, no one is accidentally flung into the air—except for Gilderoy who is unfortunately blown away from his chair.

“Sorry.” You twinge empathetically as he climbs back onto his chair, glaring at you.

Xenophilius nudges your shoulder, whispering, “Are you alright?”

“Perfectly fine,” You respond hurriedly, almost choking on your spit. “What ever gave you the idea that I was not fine? I’m bloody fantastic even. The sun is shining, fishes are swimming, and there’s not a single thing out of the ordinary in my life.”

“It’s cloudy outside,” Xenophilius says impassively. “And Lockhart is looking at you like you’ve just attempted murder.”

“Lockhart always looks like that.” You brush him off with a wave, busying yourself with flipping the pages of your Charms textbook.

Xenophilius pokes you in the side. “You are avoiding the subject. Is it because of Lup—”

“Ascendio!”

This time, it’s too perfect of an incantation that even Merlin weeps from his grave.

At the end of class, you’re greeted with yet another surprise. Just as you leave the classroom, you find Sirius and Remus standing in the corridor, so absorbed in conversation that they don’t notice the sixth-year girls giggling as they walk by—either that, or they have had plenty of practice when it comes to ignoring attention from the entire student body. It’s not like you can blame everyone else—they’re a duo carved by heaven’s finest.

Sirius realizes instantly when you walk out of the doors. He smiles blazingly at you, instantly rising to his feet, hands shoved inside the pockets of his trousers. You can’t believe this is the same boy who’d give you piggyback rides down the hallway. Dark layered curls tumble messily past his shoulders, a smidge of dark liner around his eyes, multiple piercings in his left ear. He’s grown taller, certainly more confident, too.

“Ready to go, pet?” He asks, as if casually inquiring about the weather.

“Go?” You echo, nonplussed. “Go where?”

“Birdwatching, obviously.” Sirius grins devilishly before grabbing your hand and leading you to the courtyard, Remus hot on your heels—who, for some reason, now has your bag hanging from his shoulders.

“D-Do I even get a say in this?” Truthfully, you had thought that you could finish the project without meeting up. Ever. You even think of collaborating with them via owl; staying far, far away from one another. So that none of you get hurt again, and you don’t risk another heartbreak.

“Not one bit, darling.” Sirius looks back at you and winks—this cheeky bastard!

You’re in a daze by the time the three of you reach the middle courtyard. Sirius happily plonks down under a tree, further unbuttoning his shirt until a hint of a tattoo peeks out—you gape. Remus chuckles before urging you to sit as well, before he settles on your other side.

“This is nice,” says Sirius as he leans his head against the tree trunk, eyes closed. “Bloody missed this.”

“Missed what?” You dare to ask, heart hammering in your chest.

He opens one eye, cheek dimple flashing. “Being by your side.”

“Oh.”

One does not respond to that, actually. One just simply passes out and fades away.

And as you typically do when facing hardships in life, you ramble about homework. Clearing your throat and staring straight at the earthworms crawling out of the mud, you say, “So, about our project. . .”

“I was thinking we could get started on it next Saturday,” You splutter, fiddling with your fingers. “Or I could start on everyone’s reading and we’d put it on paper sometime next month—but I could do that myself, too. I-If you wanted. Just so that it’s easier for everyone. We really don’t have to rush, honestly.”

“Procrastinating on schoolwork?” Remus laughs heartily with a slow shake of his head, stretching his long legs on the ground. “Who are you and what have you done to our best fr—”

The word falters on his tongue, and his smile fades into a somber line.

To save everyone from the awkward tension, you carry on, ignoring the way Sirius stiffens, “If you want to start early, I can head to the library after lunch to find some books on Ornithomancy. The more references we have—”

“What happened to us?” Sirius interjects gravelly.

You let out a deep sigh.

You suppose this conversation has been a long time coming, given lions and their stubbornness.

“It’s simple,” You say gingerly. “After that. . . that day, the distance kept growing and growing until we went our own separate ways without looking back.”

A single teardrop slides down your cheek before you can stop it. “You changed. I changed, too. The difference was, you all had each other while I had no one.”

(Though Pandora and Xenophilius were the truest and most honest friends one could ask for, they didn’t hold your soul captive the way they did.)

Sirius stares at you as if you had just spit acid; a thunderstorm forming within his gray eyes, his jaw locking painfully.

“You don’t really believe that, do you?” Remus asks softly, leaning forward to offer you his handkerchief. His voice sounds strangled—as though your words physically torment him. He pulls away just as your gaze falls on his.

“That’s what happened, though. But I suppose it doesn’t really even matter anymore.” You flinch away, electrocuted from his touch.

There’s a stretched silence that blankets the three of you. It carries on for a few minutes, the breeze flowing by, and the slow, clamorous bell chiming in the distance. You’re about to speak up when Sirius breaks the quietude first.

“Be ready,” He says decidedly, looking straight ahead.

“For what?” You ask in disbelief.

Sirius drags a hand through his hair with a loud exhale. He rests his elbows on his knees, chin carelessly set on his palm, eyeing you intensely. “We’re going to prove you wrong from now on.”

“What exactly are you going to prove?”

Sirius chuckles, coiling a strand of your hair around his finger. “That it’s always been you and us for life, princess.”

Merlin’s saggy balls.

THE GRYFFINDOR TABLE descends into a coalescence of wide eyes and rapid, hushed whispers when you arrive sometime during dinner. It’s not out of your own volition, of course, but your own duty and responsibility as prefect to return the handkerchief that Remus had lent you earlier this afternoon. You hoped it would be a quick in-and-out; dishing out more forced smiles, and some half-baked banter until you could finally run away, tail tucked between your legs. Like most things in your life, it does not go the way you want.

“You could keep it, if you want,” says Remus, hesitantly taking the embroidered cloth from you.

If the world knew how many trinkets Remus Lupin had gifted you during your friendship, you would be swimming in gold—and cursed letters from his devoted fangirls.

“That’s alright. Thank you.” You placate him with a crooked grin, the words spilling from your lips like a jumbled mess. Out of the corner of your eye, you see Gideon and Fabian Prewett nudging each other’s shoulders whilst pointing at you, keeping their heads low. You have no idea what that’s about.

“Well. That is all. E-Enjoy your dinner.” You nod, mentally patting yourself on the back for not passing out in the den of lions. “Goodbye.”

Though the Ravenclaw table is placed next to Gryffindor’s, you have the bright idea of sitting with your backs to them, lest you engage in a round of cloddish staring contests with the Marauders. Just as you pivot on your heels, ready to make it to Pandora’s side, an achingly familiar voice calls for your name.

“Wait!” Marlene is partially out of her seat, bright blonde hair in a loose, messy braid; hand outstretched, as if reaching out to you. Her pale cheeks blossom with shades of scarlet as she receives miffed glares from the students nearby—such is the curse of a Gryffindor; if this were a fantasy novel, they would be the perfect protagonist. “Why don’t you eat with us? F-For old time’s sake. It’s been so long and I really would like to catch up with you.”

Your resolve nearly crumbles. This is the same girl who would bring sweet candies in her pocket in case you got hungry during class. But, if this were a fantasy novel, you would only be an extra; fated to walk a path so different from the likes of James Potter and Lily Evans.

“Maybe next time,” You say, unconvincing to even your own ears.

FROM ACROSS the Great Hall, another conversation is taking place.

“I am telling you, Minerva, I caught them talking again in the infirmary,” says Poppy Pomfrey to her fellow teacher, a spry grin on her kind face.

“Poppy, as I’ve told you, I do not make a habit out of discussing my students’ personal lives,” McGonagall replies tiredly, slicing into her dinner plate of steak and kidney pie. She pauses for a few moments, before pushing up her spectacles with a wrinkly smile. “But, perhaps, I’ll let this slide just this once. Tell me all about it. I’ve also heard that—”

“ACTA NON VERBA.”

Deeds, not words.

Truly a befitting password for the House of bravery and recklessness. The Fat Lady’s portrait gasps in delight, raising her champagne glass to you. Seconds later, the Gryffindor common room is revealed to you. (Most of the Ravenclaw prefects have the House passwords memorized, in case they encounter a lost student outside the dormitories who has forgotten the passcode. It happens more often than one would like. Although it isn’t just first-years who are often stuck outside. You’ve stumbled upon Frank Longbottom many times before in a heated argument with the Fat Lady.)

“Oh!” Alice, bundled up in a red scarf and a wooly jumper, is startled to find you at the entrance. She breathily says your name, eyes crinkling as she smiles widely. “What a pleasant surprise! Oh my Gods—it’s so nice to see you again. How’s the head? Last time I saw you, you were bleeding everywhere.”

“I didn’t get amnesia. So that was good.” You head inside the room, instantly enveloped in a familiar warmth, a welcoming hug as if you had never strayed far. “Thank you. For that day, I mean. For bringing me to Madam Pomfrey.”

She waves you off. “Don’t mention it.”

“But. . .” Alice cocks her head with a conniving smile. “Don’t tell anyone else this, but when James found out it had been the Gryffindor team’s co-captain who hit the Quaffle your way, I heard James put him through some intense training. He must’ve had to run a hundred laps around the pitch for a week straight. Poor guy even had to wash everyone’s jerseys without magic.”

“What?” You shriek. “But it was just an accident. Surely, James wouldn’t—”

Alice tweaks your nose with a chuckle. “Oh, for you? He would.”

You have the strangest urge to throw yourself out of the tower.

You cough into your first, desperate to shift the conversation topic otherwise you’d spontaneously combust. “S-So, where’s Remus? We agreed to work on our Divination project here—if that’s alright with you and the others, of course.”

“Ha!” Alice exclaims, palming her forehead. “So that’s why the tower stinks of flipping perfume.” She snickers at your bewildered expression, before engulfing you in a bear hug. “It’s so good to see you. You’re welcome here anytime, you know that.”

“Thank you, Alice.” You squeeze her back, giving yourself just this one time because you really did miss her.

Alice takes a step backwards before roaring loud enough to shake the ceiling. “Remus!”

“Get down here! Your girlfriend is waiting!”

You break out in a coughing fit. “I am not his girlfriend.”

“Not yet.” Alice winks at you, patting your cheek before skipping out the common room.

You hear the heavy footfalls of someone coming down the stairs. Moments later, you see Remus Lupin beaming at you, casually dressed, hair damp and tousled over his brows, broad shoulders stretching his white top, and fluffy, mismatched socks over his feet. He walks over to you in record speed.

“You came,” He says huskily.

“I did.”

“You look beautiful today.” Remus grins wolfishly, dimples poking out of his cheeks, flecks of light in his hazel eyes.

You blink owlishly, dumbfounded. You peer at your clothes—nothing fancy or experimental. “This is how I normally dress, though.”

“I know.”

Remus smiles, swiftly taking your bookbag from you. (Alice was right. He smells like a basket of green apples, old leather tomes, and sandalwood. Not that you mind.) You follow him to the couches by the fireplace.

“Where’s Sirius?” You look around the common room as you sink into the red sofa. There’s a pair of third-years playing chess, a young girl feathering her hand across the bookcase; sunlight streaming in from the tall windows.

But no sign of Sirius Black.

“Miss me, did you, love?”

Sirius chuckles into your ear—you jump out of your skin, clutching at your knees in fright.

“Merlin’s tits—!”

You gasp for air while Sirius and Remus laugh at your expense. “You fucking wanker!” You grab one of the quilted pillows as Sirius jumps over the back of the couch. “You’re an idiot, Sirius Orion.”

“There.” Sirius flops right down on the sofa; his hair tied up in a low bun, silver rings around his fingers. “Now you don’t look so bloody scared and nervous around us. We don’t bite, you know.” He pauses, then grins devilishly at you. “Unless you ask.”

You slap your palms against your lap. “Anyways—!”

Nostrils flaring as you take a deep breath—this is going to be a long day. You begin setting the parchments, feather quills, and Divination textbooks on the coffee table, along with a notebook where you had written some observations during the week. “When we were out—erm—birdwatching the other day, I noted down the birds that flew by for our readings. For Remus, it was a flock of Firecrests. And—”

“I’m very sorry, loveliest love, but none of this makes any bloody sense to me.” Sirius goes through the Divination volumes you had checked out from the library, wrinkling his nose in distaste. “Tea reading, I can tolerate. But studying bird droppings really isn’t my thing.”

You glare heatedly at him, oddly defensive about the subject. “We’re not studying bird droppings, you plonker. There’s so much more to Ornithomancy than what meets the eyes. You see, nature connects everything. From the number of birds you encounter, to which direction they fly, their pattern of flight, down to the colors of their wings.”

You point to the glaring page from Snallygasters and Omens: Vol. 1 where a picture of a Jobberknoll jumps out. “This bird flies to the east because the east governs new beginnings and warm springs after winter. Blue wings symbolize reliability. One day in the future you’ll be tasked with a huge responsibility. A family could entrust their godson to you, who knows? You have to be clear-headed, Sirius. Your emotions can get the best of you if you’re not careful.”

Without even pausing to breathe, you say, “Remus. The firecrest. Smallest bird in the wizarding world, but will dare to fly higher than any other creature, even the king of birds. The firecrest and its flock were flying to the south that day, Remus. To the place of passion and life. Love. Beauty.”

“So it’s. . . it’s more than just bird droppings!”

By the end of it all, your chest is heaving, fingers trembling with adrenaline; Remus and Sirius gazing at you with stars in their eyes, devotion pouring from their growing smiles. (Oh, how their hearts beat for you.)

Sirius tips your chin with his knuckle, leaning closer until you feel his breath on your nose. “Welcome back, princess.”

NIGHT FALLS WITHOUT anyone’s permission. James, Lily, and Peter make their way back to the Gryffindor tower, patches of sunburn on their nose after spending the entire day outside observing bird flight patterns. Like Sirius, Lily has her mind firmly set against the philosophies of Divination; the mumbo jumbo not really all that comprehensible to her. As they enter the common room, her hand in James’s, they’re greeted by a rare sight—one that Lily didn’t think she would see again.

Sirius is sitting on the floor by the fireplace, wand tucked behind his ear, a pile of books at his side, his brows contorted in frustration as he drowns in the pages of When Fortunes Turn Fowl. He presses his finger to his lips when his silvery eyes fall on Lily and James, jerking his head to the scene across him.

Lily fails to bury her smile when she sees you snoring away at Remus’s lap, his fingers absentmindedly knitting through strands of your hair. The space is bedecked in loose pages with scribbled notes on them and ink stains on the carpet.

“I take it you three got further along than we did,” Lily whispers as she kneels beside Remus, softly nudging his chin as she captures him in a fond kiss.

Remus smiles into her lips. “A month’s worth of progress, at least. Thanks to this one here. I don’t think I’ll ever look at a bird the same way again.”

“Who knew our little eagle had a knack for Divination?” Lily chuckles, gaze softening as she delicately drags her knuckle down your cheek. “It’s getting pretty late. Should we wake her up?”

Remus shakes his head. “No. Let her sleep a bit more.”

Selfishly, Lily agrees. She traces the tip of your nose, the pillows of your lips, before retracting her hand with a long sigh. “We used to talk about anything and everything until the sun rose. Now, it seems like I can never catch up to her no matter how fast I run.”

“Lily—”

“Don’t worry,” says Lily. “I am nothing if not stubborn. She’ll know my wrath soon.”

Sirius snickers. “How charming.”

The fire crackles and you mumble something, deep in slumber, shifting in Remus’s hold, “Only one percent. . . of the world’s population is . . . is naturally redheaded.”

“Is that right?” Lily grins from ear to ear.

Just you wait, Lily is going to sweep you off your feet.

(Something she should have done years ago.)

“IS THAT A new jumper?”

Pandora simpers knowingly, heterochromatic eyes uncovering your every secret—the beads in her long braids click as she keeps in time with your brisk pace. She teasingly pulls at the oversized sweater. “It looks good on you.”

You narrow your eyes at her, watchfully twisting your arms around your waist. “It was cold this morning, alright? Remus lent it to me. It’s not a big deal. It’s what friends do, right?”

“So, you’re friends now?” Pandora muses. “Well, thank the Gods, because it has been excruciating watching you tiptoe around one another. It only took you lot three years, but it’s better than never, eh?”

“Wilderwood! No magic in the corridors! That’s five points from Slytherin!” You bark at the stubborn fifth-year who grins sheepishly at you, before you reply to Pandora, an ache forming at the back of your head. “It’s complicated. Everything was sort of awkward in the beginning.”

You think of last night, how Sirius was especially keen on making you laugh every few seconds; Remus would inch closer to you, head nearly on your shoulder as he peeks at the notes you’ve jotted down. You could barely think straight in their presence. Then, you remember waking up earlier this morning, James sprawled all over Sirius and Lily on the couch; Remus’s nose fully buried in his drawing book.

“But. . .” You trail off, remembering Remus’s arms around you as he sent you off, careful not to wake the others. (“I am a selfish bastard, pet,” He whispers into your hair, “I’m sorry, but let me steal this morning from them.”)

“It’s like coming home after a long day.”

“Brilliant!” Pandora exclaims, roughly laying her hands on your shoulders as she ushers you past the cobblestone walkway and into the grassfield, where the Quidditch Pitch rests in the near distance. You hadn’t even realized that you were a little ways from the castle already. “Tell them that!”

“What?” You squawk. “Are you mad, woman?”

You hear the sound of brooms zipping by at an unimaginable speed. The crowd clamors over the announcer’s intense commentary. Your legs feel like they’ve been jinxed to feel like jelly. You hate Quidditch.

“GRYFFINDOR SCORES! — That’s one-hundred and twenty in all! — Still no snitch yet! Hurry on, Potter! Mulciber’s got nothing on you– Ow! Professor! — Fawley heads for the goal! — Great deflect by Black! — Bletchley misses! — Another point for Gryffindor! We might as well end the game now!”

“Mr. Prewett!” You hear McGonagall scold into the charmed megaphone.

“Sorry, Minnie! Anyway! — Mulciber and Potter race for the Snitch! Potter reaches out! — Surprisingly good manoeuvre from Mulciber! — Come on, James! — He’s almost got it! — It’s right there!”

You wait with a bated breath.

The crowd goes absolutely wild.

“Potter’s got it! — GRYFFINDOR HAS WON!”

“Go on now, treasure. Before the Wrackspurts get inside your head again.” Pandora urges you forward, dusting the invisible creatures off your shoulders. As you take one step into the field, fireworks of gold and scarlet light up the sky, the Gryffindor teams’ cries of victory shake the ground; you hear Fabian screaming into the megaphone. Your fingers go numb. “Don’t let another day go by without expressing your heart,” says Pandora into your ear, almost a gust of wind if you hadn’t been paying attention. “Go to them. They are waiting for you.”

“But what if they aren’t?” You watch as the sun descends on the Gryffindor team lifting James in the air, Golden Snitch in his gloved hand. Sirius catches Lily by the waist, twirling her up high; her smile more dazzling than any other gem you’ve seen. As James is set back down on the ground, he snatches Remus unaware and bends him down for a fervent kiss.

“Dora, what if I’m the only one who feels this way? I can’t do that to them. What are the chances that I’ll ruin everything? That would hurt more than anything.”

Pandora cups your cheeks and lays her forehead on yours. “You won’t ever know unless you go out there.”

With that, she pushes you into the Quidditch pitch.

You swallow the lump in your throat, ears ringing from the crowd chanting James’s name, and your heart pounding in fear.

“J-James. . .” You call out weakly as he drowns in the sea of students.

Perhaps it’s a sign.

This really wasn’t a good idea.

Love is a fool’s game.

Don’t you get it? They don’t need you in the picture at all.

“N-No!” You shout, chest heaving. If everything happens for a reason, maybe you were meant to meet in that train compartment all those years ago. You’ve lost three years with them already.

If you don’t go to them right now, you could lose a lifetime.

If bravery is for the reckless and arrogant, you’re prepared to be the most depraved witch in the castle just to stay by their side.

“James—!”

“Go, go, Gryffindor!”

You bite your lip in frustration—but you can’t just give up. Not now.

Once more.

“JAMES FLEAMONT POTTER!”

Please.

Time stops as you stand at the edge of the field; James whips his head around and finds you instantly. The glow of having just won a match doesn’t even compare when his eyes land on you. He pushes past his team members and some of the Gryffindor students, his gaze unwavering, some of them call out his name but he doesn’t bother looking back. Before you even know it, he stands in front of you, breathing heavily—but not from the rush of the game.

“You’re here,” He says, eyes disappearing into his smile. “But you hate Quidditch.”

“I do.” You grin wearily. “But I love you more.”

Without even giving James the chance to speak, you ramble on, hurricanes whirling in your stomach, “You’re a bloody brilliant wizard, James Potter. I’m sorry I couldn’t tell you that before. I see you. I see all of you. How could I not? I love you. I think I’ve loved all of you before I knew it was even love. It’s alright if you don’t feel the same w—”

James grabs the back of your legs and hoists you up, tendrils of hair falling over his glasses as he beams at you. The sun can’t even dream of competing with him.

“Put me down, James, I am going to hurl—!”

He spins you one more time for good measure before placing you on the ground. James barely gives you a second to gather your bearings as he seizes your lips with his own, hand cradling the back of your neck.

“You’re here,” He says, unable to believe his very eyes, gently chasing after your lips, breaths mingling until you don’t remember where either begins or ends. “Don’t leave. Please.”

“I won’t. I won’t.” You promise breathlessly as James pecks the tip of your nose, the arch of your eyes. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“Beautiful.” He kisses you until you’re gasping for air. “And all ours.”

There’s not a moment where you don’t feel loved, not even when he lets you go, and it’s Lily who encompasses you in her arms, bright hair filling your vision; you willingly burn in the warmth of her body. The mellow scent of pomegranates and red roses fill your nose. You see a never-ending horizon of kindness in her emerald eyes. (How could you have stayed away for so long?) It’s like finding a missing piece of your soul that you never knew that was lost.

Lily laughs—it sounds like an orchestral symphony. Her gaze cascades to your lips, the prettiest of smiles on her face; she cradles the curve of your jaw with utmost sincerity, a few drops of tears shimmering against her freckled skin. “May I?”

“Please.” You feel her breath tickling your lips, deftly pulling you in for a kiss until all you can feel is her. She consumes every inch of you, and you are happy to surrender, heart and soul.

“You must be the thickest Ravenclaw I’ve ever met,” says Lily, giggling as she kisses you once, twice—thrice.

“And that means?” You scoff lightheartedly.

She steals another kiss from you. “That means: I hope you know that we have loved you ever since, you daft witch. That I’ve loved you all this time. And now that you’re ours, we are going to make sure you remember that. Every single day for the rest of our lives.”

You smile, holding onto her hand, dizzy with a hundred emotions. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

(Your Divination project is a point lower than Lily, Peter and James’s, but you find that it’s the luckiest fortune you’ve ever had.)

EPILOGUE:

“I LOVE QUIDDITCH!”

You are twenty-two years old, nose bitten from the chilly air, lounging in the best seating area the Quidditch World Cup has to offer; an unobstructed view of the players. The match is between the Brazilian and Japanese National Quidditch teams. Much to Sirius and James’s chagrin, your cheek is painted in yellow and green stripes, the vibrant flag around your shoulders.

You scream along with the crowd, nearly spilling your Butterbeer popcorn, as the Brazilian players enter the vast stadium. You ardently shake Lily’s shoulders. “That’s him! That’s him! Lily, it’s Brazil’s youngest ever Seeker! Vinícius Silva! I watched a replay of his matches and he’s got a seventy-eight percent win rate!”

“Watch out, love, you’ll fall off the edge if you aren’t careful,” Lily says worriedly.

“His fastest record for catching the Golden Snitch is ten minutes and thirty seconds! He’s won Most Outstanding Player in the Junior Division twice! I’ve got a good feeling about this team—I knew those auguries were a lucky sign.”

“The only Seeker you should be obsessing over is me.” You hear James grumbling behind your back, stealing a kiss from Lily’s lips before pressing his mouth to your cheek. “And you bloody well know that Japan’s Chaser, Kurosawa, is going to steal the limelight in this match. An average possession time of thirty seconds per play. A beast, that one.”

You wave him off, more confident in your statistics. “Did you place my bets? I’m telling you, we’re going to be rich.”

“Yes, darling,” He says, utterly loving his role as the dutiful husband.

Moments later, Sirius appears at his side, fussing over your scarf, and kissing you just because. “Can we take off your bloody hat now? I think you just blinded Malfoy and his little blonde gremlin.”

“Isn’t that a good thing?” You simper fiendishly before smacking his arm. “And don’t call your nephew that.”

Sirius grins.

You pull at one of his curls. “Besides, if you’re good you can take off everything later tonight.”

He pulls you in for a deep kiss, hand at your waist, nose brushing each other’s. “And that is why I love you, dear wife.”

You pout, albeit seeing right through his white, little jape. “Truly?”

Sirius lands another kiss to your forehead. “Are you doubting me, loveliest love of my life? The lighthouse in my ocean storms. The apple of my eye. Fire in my loins—”

You slap a hand over his mouth. “I get it, thank you, my love.”

Sirius beams from ear to ear. “Glad to have eased your doubts, darling.”

Thirty minutes into the match, Remus arrives, dressed in a muted gray suit, light brown hair flopping over his eyes. He greets everyone with a tired kiss.

You immediately wrap him in a hug, nuzzling your nose into his neck. He had a particularly difficult full moon some nights ago. You press a tender kiss to the scar right below his jaw. “How was work? Did you bring my binder? It has my lesson plan for next week, I don’t want to return to the castle unprepared, and—”

The newest Defense Against the Dark Arts professor squeezes your waist. “Work was fine, pet. And no, I didn’t bring the papers because right now we are not working. We are going to watch Brazil win the bloody match and get right home to Harry after.”

You, the newest Divination teacher of Hogwarts, tug him by his necktie, smiling coyly. “Sounds like a wonderful plan to me.”

BONUS:

“REMUS!”

The empty classroom is filled with soft, fervid moans—two professors especially drunk on the taste of each other’s lips. You’re seated on the desk, Remus wedged between your thighs, his hand inching dangerously higher and higher; the other hand slipping under your shirt and thumbing the bare skin underneath. He captures your whispers and mewls with his lips. Jackets and ties are tossed carelessly to the side.

“So fucking beautiful.” He nips at your lower lip.

“Rem. . .” You whimper, tugging at the strands of his hair. “Remus—please!”

The door to the DADA classroom slams open and you two detangle from each other’s embrace in record speed. As you pat down your hair, Remus draping his blazer over your shoulders, you watch Lily and Harry stalk over to you in lengthy strides, reaching the both of you within seconds. You clear your throat, awkwardly averting your gaze from your son’s precious eyes; Lily, a moment away from throwing her head back in laughter.

Harry, fourteen, and not at all ignorant to what couples do in the castle alcoves, sees the ruffled hair, the lipstick over his father’s cheeks and neck, and his parent’s misbuttoned blouse.

He grimaces. “You two are disgusting, you know that right?”

You guffaw, pinching his cheek. “Now, is that any way to greet the person who’s changed your diapers since you were a baby?”

Lily cackles from Remus’s side, fixing the collar of his shirt. “Harry’s got a bit of a problem. Go on, tell them, my love.”

Harry immediately throws his hands in the air, groaning frustratedly. “It’s Ron! He thinks I put my name in the bloody Goblet—!”

“Which, I will still be having a word with Dumbledore about,” You say decisively. You’re not about to endanger your son. The Minister of Magic and the Headmaster be damned. They can also take it up with your husband, James, Head Auror of the Magical Law Enforcement department.

“And now Ron’s not talking to me, Hermione’s not talking to me because I’m not talking to Ron—Colin’s following me around everywhere I go! I’m going mad, mum!” Harry slumps on one of the empty chairs, huffing. “Stupid bloody tournament.”

You chuckle as you walk over to him, feeling an odd sense of déjà vu. “Take it from me.” You press a warm kiss to his forehead. “Talk to them, otherwise you’ll lose time that was meant to be spent together. It doesn’t matter who was wrong or who was right. It’s important that you have the courage to reach out. They’re your friends. They will understand your heart soon enough.”

Harry blinks. “Thanks.”

He exits the classroom in a daze, heavily pondering on your words.

The door clicks shut, and Lily wordlessly locks the entrance. She turns to you and Remus, a sultry grin on her ruby red lips. “What are the chances we Floo home, and invite Sirius and James to join us?”

You take her outstretched hand. “A hundred and twelve.”

a/n. i wasn't satisfied with the angst here.. so expect a hufflepuff!reader and enemies to lovers next time (i promise to do better in the next fic aaakfsh) tell me what u thought of this one EUEUEU HOPE YOU ENJOYED THIS FIC!! heart heart

#poly!marauders x reader #sirius black x reader #remus lupin x reader #lily evans x reader #hp imagine #hp fluff #hp angst #poly!marauders #poly!marauders x you #poly!marauders fluff #poly!marauders imagine #poly!marauders angst #marauders fanfiction #sunny's hp fics #poly marauders #marauders x reader #james potter x reader

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ddejavvu · 2 months ago

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GIRL I GOT DE BEST IDEA AAAAAAAAAAAAA how would The poly!maurders react to y/n sleeping naked? I sleep naked and that thought just came to me mind

"Darling?" Sirius croons, pressing gently against your shoulder to rouse you from your sleep, "Darling, we're back."

There's no response from you, and Sirius pushes ever-so-slightly harder.

"Christ, Sirius, let's not shove her off the bed!" James gripes, muscling Sirius out of the way to lean down and press his lips to your forehead, "Love, wake up? We brought you dessert."

There's still no response from your unconscious form, and James suspects it's because you're nestled in a cocoon of warmth that's keeping you deeply asleep. He feels his heart crack slightly as he reaches for the edge of the blanket, feeling cruel, but it has to be done.

"Right, let's take this off then, and we can- oh, bloody hell!"

What's revealed beneath the blankets is your naked form, curled up tightly against the cold but now completely exposed to the room. Sirius's brows shoot up, and James drops the covers in order to clamp his hands over his eyes.

"James," Remus hums as you stir from your sleep. He quickly flips the covers over you again, giving you privacy as you wake, "You've seen her naked before."

"But not like this!" James blabbers, letting Sirius bundle him in a reassuring hug, "Darling, if you can hear me, I'm so sorry. I didn't know you'd be naked under there. Didn't mean to flash you to the whole lot of us."

Remus watches as you drag a knuckle through the sleep gathered in the corners of your eyes, rubbing away the drowsiness as a groggy smile grows on your face.

"S'okay, Jamie," You laugh, your voice raspy from disuse, "I slept naked 'cause I knew you'd find me."

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3d-wifey · 1 month ago

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can i get a short lil sumthin sumthin about remus and his girlfriend being academic weapons, sirius and james thinks they're boring bc they've been doing their work in the library for hours but they're actually cockwarming and seeing who'll crack first heheheh 👀👀👀

"Focus, Lupin"

Pairing: Remus Lupin x girlfriend!reader

Word Count: 2.7k

Warnings: well, smut of course! Exhibitionism, possessive Remus, yall are both freaks tbh, cucking? cock warming, riding

A/N: The other marauders have a big fat stinking crush on you but that's neither here nor there until the end of the fic. Sighhh, I go through my marauders mood swings. Your house isn't clear so feel free to pick any of them.

Tags: @yvy1s @innercreationflower

Remus hooks his chin over your shoulder, looking for all the world as if he's just getting into a better position to read his chicken scratch notes, pressing your back even further against his chest. You inhale, clenching around him at the sudden movement. You scoff at his near-inaudible laughter, elbowing him as he chuckles into your neck.

"Quit it." You grumble, quil moving at the speed of light as you furiously write.

"Quit what?" He moves the textbook you're sharing closer, the big hand he places on the page mirrors the one that's settled on your stomach. He spreads his fingers wide like he's stretching them before he drums them along the parchment. You wish you hadn't left your robes in your dorm, at least then you'd have another layer between your skin and Remus's teasing touch.

"You're cheating." You hiss, but that's the most you do to reprimand him. It's your fault you're in this mess anyhow.

Both of you are always the highest scorers in your class. And with the past few exams, you've been getting the same score or beating each other by a point or two. It's bloody frustrating.

You continuously tried to one-up each other in academics, long after you two started dating. He's your rival first, boyfriend second.

At this very moment, before you both sit two half-done papers for your N.E.W.T-level Alchemy class that isn't due for another week, but you get extra house points if you're the first to turn it in.

Which you plan to be, even if half the blood in your brain has traveled down to where you're swollen and soaked. You both sit completely clothed, other than where you're hitched on Remus's cock, knickers pulled to the side.

Of course, the library is empty. It's nine in the afternoon on a Friday. And it was your idea to see whose dedication would overpower their carnal desires.

He laughed you off at first. A soft, dismissive chuckle rumbling from his chest, muffled by the book he barely looked up from. Typical, shaking his head as if you'd said something absurd and that was the beginning and end of it. But you knew him well enough by now to know which buttons to push—and exactly how hard.

"Yeah, right," you sighed, letting your tone drop into exaggerated defeat as you flopped back against his headboard. "Wouldn't be much of a competition anyway."

Remus paused mid-turn of the page. His brows furrowed, eyes flicking to you in sharp suspicion, but you didn't look at him. Not yet. Instead, you stretched out along his bed like a cat, carefully keeping your expression blank as you toyed with the edge of the blanket.

"...And what's that supposed to mean?" His voice was sharp, clipped, but you could hear the curiosity, the irritation. The competitive edge. Exactly what you were counting on.

"Hm? Oh, nothing." You waved a hand vaguely in his direction, settling yourself comfortably against his pillows. You stretched a little more, arching your back like a cat before flopping onto your side. You kept your expression perfectly neutral, but you knew he could feel the smirk simmering beneath the surface. "It's just...well, we both know you'd give in long before me. So there's truthfully no point in even entertaining the idea." You shrugged, all nonchalance, even as you felt your chest flutter at the way his brows drew together. "I'm just agreeing with you, Rem."

His scoff was immediate, sharp and incredulous. You'd earned yourself a full look now, his book lowering just enough to reveal the disbelief etched across his face. “That’s not what I said.”

You shrugged as if it was no concern to you, deliberately looking away like the conversation was already over, knowing full well he wouldn’t let it rest. You flipped onto your stomach, propping your chin on your hands to stare at him with wide, innocent eyes. "Didn’t need to."

You bit your lip to keep from smiling as his book lowered—not abruptly, but slowly, deliberately. One inch, then two—his sharp amber eyes flicking to yours. The forefinger he slipped between the pages made it look like he might still pretend to be reading, but you knew better.

The scar closest to his eye twitched, irritation flickering faintly across his face. Merlin, you always loved how expressive that scar was when he was annoyed. One of his fingers tapped against the book spine resting on his chest, the motion twitchy.

He exhaled through his nose—sharp, like he was trying to keep it together—and finally set the book aside. His movements were precise, controlled, but there’s no hiding the faint flush creeping over his neck or the way the corner of his mouth twitched.

You knew you got him. He tried, and failed, to mask his irritation and it was almost unfair how easy he was to rile up. Almost

He let a long silence settle, the weight of his gaze pressing into you. Finally: “…You taking the piss?”

You let the grin spread across your face this time, sitting up slightly so your chin props on your hands. "M'as serious as the plague, Lupin."

The staring match that followed was something out of a duel, the cogs in his mind clearly spinning. The tension stretched taut between you, thick as smoke, neither of you daring to blink.

His book stayed in his hand for a moment longer, though you saw the exact second he gave up pretending to read. Then, to your satisfaction, he closed his book with an audible thud and set it aside. He shifted, sitting up and leaning forward. He crossed his arms over his broad chest, the muscles in his forearms flexing with the movement, and your stomach twisted—just a smidge.

"Go get your books," he said, his voice low and challenging, sending electricity up your spine. "And meet me in the library."

“Oooh, someone's touchy," you said, walking your fingers up his thigh, muscles tensing under your touch. “Formal battlegrounds now, is it? Bold move, Rem. I thought you liked keeping your humiliations private. But if losing in public gets your rocks off, who am I to deny you?"

His lips twitched—an almost-smile that was gone too fast to catch properly. “I’ll be the one handing out the humiliation, thanks.”

"Stakes?" you asked, cocking your head.

"Loser buys the winner chocolate frogs for a week," he said, already swinging his legs off the bed. Then, after a pause, he glanced over his shoulder, smirking faintly. "Or…whatever else I decide."

You pushed yourself up with a wicked grin that matched his, already moving toward the door. “Alright, but don’t be mad when you’re the one giving in first. I know you can’t resist me for long.”

Behind you, you heard him huff a laugh, though it sounded like he was trying to hide it. “Get your books, trouble. Let’s see how well you actually handle restraint.”

You were confident by the end of this week you'd overdose on chocolate frogs. Remus might be brilliant and disciplined, but he’s not immune to distraction. Especially distraction in the form of his wickedly beautiful girlfriend.

Truthfully, it was daft of you to assume Remus would play fair. You mix two people who are as competitive as they are horny and it leads you here, on your boyfriend's lap, surely dripping onto the wooden bench under you.

He hums as if he's thinking over the definition of cheating and if what he's doing right now counts as it—which it does.

"S'that right?" He mumbles into your neck and you almost reach for your wand, honest, "I don't see any cheating here, love. Just good old fashioned studying, just like you wanted."

He thrusts up, and your hand flies up to cover your mouth. You see his quill moving out of the corner of your eye without the aid of a hand. "Cheater," you pant, but don't move to stop him or even continue writing your essay. You allow yourself to enjoy the slow, steady rock of his hips against yours—only for a moment. Every vein and ridge dragging against your hypersensitive walls.

You go to reach back—for support, for a futile attempt at stopping the way he rocks into you, feeling as inevitable as the ticking of time—with your other hand, but are stopped by the quill in your hand. You're reminded, there and then, that winning over Remus is almost, if not just as satisfactory as a hard won orgasim.

You put quill to ink pot, and then, quill to parchment. Remus curses behind you but doesn't stop. Not with you panting and whining behind gritted teeth. Not with you clenching around him like a Grindylow's spindly fingers, tightening with a merciless grip. He doesn’t stop until the familiar voice of his mates cuts through the fog.

"There you two are. Should've known you'd be held up in here weeks before your assignment is done. On a weekend at that—" Sirius trails off as he and James discover the little nook you and Remus have secluded yourselves too, as well as the...odd position you find yourselves in.

It's not that he's never seen you two be affectionate, especially nearing the full moon as it is, but you in Remus's lap like this, a flustered look on your face, well, he's not a dumbass. Something out of the ordinary is happening here.

James on the other hand is none the wiser, brows furrowing in self righteous disappointment.

"We've been looking for you two everywhere. Party's not that far off, you know the turn out will be lethal even if we lost the match to those snakes." There was a foul that should've been called, but wasn't, a sligh that the refs didn't catch. In traditional Gryffindor fashion, they didn't whine about a rematch or about the unfairness of it, and in typical Slytherin fashion, they didn't either. But they needed you two to help set up certain spells only you two knew because, well, you created them. Definitely not because they liked watching the way their best mate's girl stretched and bent as she set up in the Gryffindor commons.

"We know," Remus says, glancing up at the boys before looking back to one of the open textbooks. "The plan's to party the weekend away, yeah? It's why we're getting the assignment out of the way. Sooner you let us finish this," he's slowly sliding his hands up from your knees to your hips, pushing you down with such strength that your stomach clenches, "sooner we can help."

"It's...it's just an essay, Sirius. We'll be done before the Hufflepuffs start," you almost bite your tongue mid-sentence when Remus ghosts a callused finger over your aching clit, playing it off as a hiccup, "bringing the snacks.

Neither of you say anything more as you have a sneaking suspicion that they're going to catch on, chances of you opening your mouth to speak only for a moan to tumble out are high. Remus is quiet because he hopes they do figure it out, either from the audible wetness of your cunt or your eyes rolling back as he makes you cum.

Remus knows they're in love with you and have been since third and fourth year. He's tempted to invite them a glimpse under the table so they can see how he has you stretched around his cock, squirming and wanton. What better way of making sure they know you're his?

And from the way Sirius looks the two of you over, glances down at the table, and raises his perfectly sculpted brows as James begins to ramble at you, there’s no mistaking that Sirius knows. Of course he does. Sirius always knows. His stormy eyes flick down again—deliberate, calculating—as if he’s debating whether or not to call you out. He hums, low and thoughtful, as if weighing the satisfaction of saying something versus letting the moment play out. Instead, he smirks faintly and leans against a nearby bookcase, letting James’s oblivious chatter fill the space.

Remus holds his gaze, unflinching, daring him to say a word. For a brief, reckless moment, he considers sliding his chair back just enough to let Sirius catch a glimpse of how thoroughly he has you. The thought makes his cock twitch inside you, and from the way Sirius’s smirk curves a fraction higher, it’s almost like he knows that, too.

Remus doesn’t full-on smirk when they lock eyes, but it’s a close thing.

"…Right.” Sirius tilts his head slightly, his sharp grey eyes dragging over the two of you like he’s piecing together a puzzle he’s already solved. His gaze flicks down to the table again—just briefly—and then back up to meet yours. The corner of his mouth twitches, not quite a smirk, but close enough to make your stomach drop. “You know, you two really are awful at being subtle.”

Your heart skips a beat, heat rushing to your face as you open your mouth to protest—except Sirius doesn’t give you the chance. He hums thoughtfully, his gaze flicking to Remus, and then back to you, like he’s enjoying the power of watching you squirm. “But don’t think being pretty gets you out of work,” he adds smoothly, leaning in to knock his knuckle against the table. “You’ve got until ten on the dot before I come back and drag you out of here myself.”

James, oblivious as ever, snorts and waves Sirius off. “Don’t listen to him, he’s just mad because we need you for the setup,” he says, rolling his eyes. He jabs a thumb at Sirius, then gestures toward the door. “I told him you’re probably in here studying, because what else would you two be doing on a Friday night?”

Sirius hums again, a low, knowing sound, his gaze locking with Remus’s in a silent challenge. The corner of his mouth curves, just enough for you to wonder if he’s going to say something more—something that will make it impossible to deny that he knows exactly what’s happening beneath the table.

But instead, he lets out a soft laugh, straightening from the bookcase. “Sure,” he drawls, his voice dripping with amusement. “Studying.” His eyes grow bigger as he says it to emphasis just how little he believes that rubbage excuse.

He casts one last look over the two of you, smirking faintly, before turning to leave, James already rambling on about the next Quidditch match as they disappear into the corridor. Relief floods your chest for all of three seconds—before Remus tilts his hips just so, dragging another whimper from you as his cock presses deeper.

You bite your cheek, barely able to return James's wave goodbye before you're digging your nails into Remus's thighs. The same thighs that are currently spreading yours apart. Your skirt rides up, exposing you to the air and his sly hands.

"This," your hips twitch against his as he traces feather-light fingers over your puffy lips, swollen with need. You bite back a whine, huffing harshly through your nose as those fingers move down where the base of his cock sits snugly in you, tubbing slick where you and he are connected. "This is how you're cheating."

"If you're so much better than me, you should be able to focus, no problem, right?" He has an arm wrapped around your waist again, the other flipping pages.

"Fine." If that's how he wants to play, then you are more than game. You lean forward, elbows on the table as you grind your hips back and forth, barely raising off of him before coming back down with your fluttering warmth squeezing around him. "Focus, Lupin. Or, mh, at least try."

"Shhhit. D-dearest, that's not—" he cuts himself off with a truly shameless moan, both hands gripping your waist. He doesn't stop you, no, wouldn't dream of it. Instead, he helps you balance as you move faster, busy chasing your high more than you're focused on sabotaging Remus. "You, your—Merlin, you're bloody brilliant."

At this point, you don't know what'll come first: you, Remus, or Sirius's wrath.

#3d wifey answers #remus x reader #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin #mauraders #marauders x reader #remus lupin x you #remus lupin smut #poly!marauders x reader #harry potter #sirius black #james potter

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dittos-blog-dylanobrien · 6 months ago

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Can you guys PLEASE stop tagging (character) X reader IF ITS NOT THAT CHARACTER 😭 I'm sick and tired of searching (character) X reader and it's every different character possible X reader like😭😭

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inkdrinkerworld · 2 months ago

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Hiii could you do marauders x reader who has a stuffed animal from when she was a baby that she hides from them and maybe they find it one night when they’re all going to be :)))

There’s a battered yellow bear on your bed. As best as you’ve tried, your bear is old and has had his fair share of rotations in the washer and dryer.

He’s aged but you love him.

In that love, you can’t bear to put him anywhere else.

That kind of comes to bite you in the ass when your boyfriends are over for the first time.

Remus has made you a cup of nighttime tea, Sirius has just come out of the shower and James lays his head in your lap, curls bouncy on your thigh.

“Your soap is the best thing ever.” Sirius moans as he throws himself into the sofa.

It’s a honey and cream soap, the scent soft and a little clean. It smells like you is what Sirius means to say.

Remus smiles as you grin. “I’m glad you like it.” Sirius has always been vocal about how great you smell; be it your soap, laundry detergent, perfume: Sirius loves it all.

“Can we go to bed?” A yawn breaks apart James’ question, eyes heavy as you pet his head.

“Course Jamie.” You whisper, watching him stretch to standing and reaching an arm back to you.

Remus and Sirius follow, your mugs discarded in the table for tomorrow morning.

“Are we all gonna fit in your bed?” Sirius asks and you roll your eyes. James pushes open your door and your stomach drops.

There in the middle of your bed, on top of your Christmas sheets and duvet, sits your yellow bear with his roughed up ear and his red shirt.

“Oh dove,” Remus coos and you feel your blood rush faster.

“Don’t.” You mumble, but Sirius has already launched himself onto your bed and is cradling your bear.

“What’s his name?” Sirius asks, James following him in bed and sprawling out long before tickling under your bear’s chin.

“How long have you had him?” Remus asks, voice soft in an attempt to keep you from embarrassment.

It doesn’t help. You’re not embarrassed you have a stuffed animal, just that they’ve seen it so casually.

“Since I was a kid.” You mutter, Sirius leans off the bed and presses a kiss to the closest part of you.

“You’re fucking precious.”

You climb in bed and take him from Sirius, pressing a kiss to the back of the bear’s head and then James’.

“I for one think he’s very adorable, angel.”

Remus seconds the claim. “He is. Are you putting him between us or on the nightstand, baby?”

He’s buttering you up, and it works.

“Between us if that’s fine.”

Sirius holds your chin and smacks a kiss to your lips. “Of course it’s fine. You’re adorable.”

You sleep with James on one end, you beside him, your bear, then Sirius and Remus on the other end; cuddling well into the morning.

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unconventional-lawnchair · 9 days ago

Text

Good boy, Pads

Poly!Marauders x Reader {Mostly Padfoot x Reader}

Summary: Walking home alone is always scary. Not so bad with an attack dog.

WC: ~2.2k

CW: Being followed, Walking home alone, panic, reader is almost attacked

Part two

“Goodnight, all!" You called over your shoulder, pushing through the heavy diner door and stepping into the crisp London night. The warm light from inside spilled onto the sidewalk for just a moment before the door swung shut, leaving you in the soft glow of streetlamps and the quiet hum of a city winding down.

Bundled up against the sharp autumn chill, you tugged your scarf higher over your nose, the wool muffling your breath as you glanced both ways down the street. The pavement glistened faintly from an earlier rain, and leaves skittered across the ground, carried by a gentle breeze. You smiled to yourself, enjoying the solitude of the evening and the faint scent of damp earth and fading smoke in the air.

The city felt quieter tonight, slower. A rare calm that let you notice the little things: the way your boots tapped against the pavement, the golden glow of light spilling from a pub window, the soft rustle of branches as the breeze carried more leaves to the ground. You couldn’t help but savor the peacefulness, the way the streets felt like they belonged only to you.

Turning onto a quieter side street, you pulled your coat tighter around you and let out a content sigh. The distant hum of a car engine and the occasional clink of bottles from an alley gave the city its usual heartbeat, steady and familiar. But as you passed under a flickering streetlight, the warmth in your chest faltered.

A flicker of something- movement- caught the corner of your eye. You stopped for a moment, glancing behind you. The street was empty, save for the faint shimmer of rain on the asphalt. You let out a quiet laugh at yourself, shaking your head as you started walking again. "You're imagining things," you muttered, the words misting into the cold air.

But as you rounded another corner, the feeling crept back. A weight you couldn’t explain settled between your shoulder blades, pressing until you glanced back again. This time, the street didn’t feel so empty.

A figure stood at the edge of the light, a shadow against the dim glow of a streetlamp. Hood pulled low, shoulders hunched. You couldn’t see his face, but the sight was enough to quicken your pulse.

You turned back quickly, trying to shake off the growing unease. It’s nothing. Just someone walking home, like you. Still, your steps grew faster, the sound of your boots sharper now as they echoed down the street.

The figure’s pace quickened too.

Your heart thundered in your chest, your breath puffing in the cold as you resisted the urge to turn around again. Don’t look back. Just keep walking. But the sound of his footsteps- deliberate, steady, too close- sent panic thrumming through you.

You turned sharply onto another street, one that was darker and quieter, hoping to lose him in the maze of side roads. But the sound of his steps followed, unyielding.

The knot in your stomach tightened as you risked a glance over your shoulder. The figure was closer now, his face still obscured, his movements calm and measured, as though he knew there was no need to rush.

You kept promising yourself it was all in your head. Every rationalization you’d ever heard about nights like this ran through your mind. He’s just trying to get home. You’re overthinking it. You’re being dramatic. The words looped, each one louder than the growing knot of fear in your chest.

In some lapse of judgment- or sheer stubbornness- you forced yourself to slow down, determined to prove your paranoia wrong. Your footsteps softened, your breath puffing out in measured exhales. See? Nothing’s wrong.

But the figure didn’t slow. His pace stayed steady, deliberate, and for a heartbeat, your stomach clenched.

Then, he walked right past you.

Your breath left you in a rush, relief crashing through you as you watched him slip into an alley just a few yards ahead, his dark silhouette disappearing into the shadows.

You’re so bloody dramatic, You scolded yourself, shaking your head as you tried to laugh off the tension still clinging to your spine.

Your legs felt heavy as you started walking again, still shaking off the tension that clung to you like the autumn chill. The sound of your boots echoed faintly against the damp pavement, the streetlights casting long shadows that seemed to stretch further with each step.

You’re fine. You’re fine. The mantra pulsed in your head, soothing your nerves just enough to keep moving forward.

But as you passed the mouth of the alley, a sharp sound- the scrape of a boot against concrete- made your heart stutter.

Before you could fully process it, the figure stepped out of the alley, sharp and purposeful. He moved with a predator’s focus, his hood still pulled low, but his intent painfully clear as he strode toward you.

Your body froze, fear locking every muscle in place as your breath hitched painfully in your throat. Your mind screamed at you to move, to run, to do anything- but before you could even find your voice-

A deep, guttural snarl tore through the night behind you, vibrating through the air like a clap of thunder.

You stumbled backward, your knees nearly buckling as something massive pressed between them with startling force. Looking down, your breath caught again.

A black dog- no, something far larger than any dog you’d ever seen- stood between your legs, its massive head low and its body tense, muscles rippling under its sleek fur. Its glowing eyes locked on the man in front of you, and its lips curled back in a snarl, revealing sharp, gleaming teeth. The beast exuded menace, an attack dog waiting for the signal to strike.

You didn’t dare move. The sheer size of it, the raw power in its stance, and the intensity of its focus made you feel as though the tiniest twitch would snap the tension in the air.

The black dog let out another terrifying snarl, its teeth snapping together with a ferocity that echoed in the quiet street. The man in front of you stumbled back a step, his hands flying up defensively as if the gesture could ward off the beast.

The force of the dog's lunge had nearly sent you sprawling, but you instinctively clung to its thick black collar, fingers curling around the studded leather as if it were a lifeline. Its massive frame remained steady beneath you, grounding you in a moment that felt anything but stable.

“Easy, easy,” You whispered, your voice trembling as you tried to calm your racing heart. It was ridiculous, you realized, trying to reason with a creature that clearly wasn’t just an ordinary dog.

The dog didn’t flinch at your voice, its glowing eyes locked on the man with an intensity that sent shivers down your spine. Slowly, the man began to retreat, his movements jerky and hesitant as he kept his gaze darting between you and the snarling beast.

“I- I wasn’t doing anything!” He stammered, his voice shaking as he took another step back.

The dog lunged again, snapping its jaws just short of the man’s retreating figure. The motion was controlled, calculated- a warning that left no room for doubt about what would happen if he didn’t leave.

The man’s nerve broke. With a muttered curse, he turned and bolted down the street, his footsteps echoing in the stillness until they faded completely.

The dog didn’t move for a long moment, its body still taut, ears pinned back as it watched the man disappear into the night. Only when it was satisfied he wasn’t returning did it finally relax, its snarling lips settling back over sharp teeth.

The air around you hung heavy with tension, your trembling fingers still clinging to the black dog’s studded collar. Its massive form didn’t waver, muscles coiled tight as its glowing eyes remained fixed on the direction the man had fled. You could feel the sheer power radiating off of it, its focus terrifying, its snarling lips now pressed firmly together.

Just as you began to catch your breath, a calm voice- low, steady, unfamiliar- broke through the night.

“Padfoot, heel.”

Your head snapped toward the sound, and from the shadows stepped a tall man, his figure shrouded in the dim glow of a nearby streetlamp. He moved with quiet confidence, his amber eyes soft yet sharp as they flicked from the dog to you. His presence was both reassuring and unnerving, as though he had always been there, watching from the edges.

The dog didn’t immediately obey, its ears twitching at the command but its gaze still locked down the street. A moment of silence stretched between the man, the beast, and you.

Then, another voice rang out, softer, almost playful. “You did good, mate. It’s okay now- she’s safe.”

The second figure emerged from the opposite side of the street, his dark hair catching the faint light that his glasses reflected- as he strolled closer with a casual ease. His hazel eyes glinted with sympathy, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips as he approached.

“Padfoot,” The second man coaxed, his tone softer now, almost affectionate. “Come on, you’ve scared him off. Time to let the lady breathe, yeah?”

The black dog- Padfoot?- finally relaxed, its tension melting away as it let out a low huff, almost as if in reluctant agreement. With one last glance down the empty street, it turned toward you, pressing its massive head against your thigh in an almost protective gesture.

The motion nearly knocked you off balance again, but you steadied yourself, your fingers still curled around the thick collar. You glanced between the two men, your mind racing to make sense of what was happening.

“What- what is this? Who are you?” You asked, your voice unsteady but edging toward firm. Still trying to calm down from the earlier events.

The first man, the one with warm amber eyes, stepped closer, his gaze flickering briefly to the dog before settling on you. “We’re just here to make sure you got home safely,” He said gently, his tone soothing.

“This… thing?” You asked, nodding toward the dog, though you couldn’t bring yourself to let go of its collar.

“Not a thing,” The second man interjected, his grin widening as he crouched next to the dog, running a hand through its fur. “This is Padfoot. And he did bloody brilliant, if I do say so myself.”

As if understanding the compliment, the dog let out a soft woof, its tail giving a single thump against the pavement.

The man looked up at you, his hazel eyes twinkling. “And I’m James, by the way. This,” He gestured to the amber-eyed man, “is Remus. We didn't mean to scare you, but thought a bit too quickly.”

The boys seemed to sense your lingering unease, their expressions softening as they exchanged a glance. Remus stepped forward slightly, his calm demeanor grounding the strange tension still hanging in the air.

“We’ll let you head home now,” he said gently, his voice low and soothing. “But if it makes you feel safer, Padfoot can walk with you. He’ll stay by your side until you’re safely inside.”

You glanced down at the massive black dog, still pressed protectively against your leg. His glowing eyes had softened, but the quiet strength in his stance told you he wasn’t going anywhere until you were safe. “He’ll… come back to you?” you asked hesitantly, your voice quiet.

James stepped closer, offering a warm, reassuring smile. “Always,” he said. “Just tell him to go, and he’ll know where to find us. He’s got a knack for it.”

You bit your lip, torn between wanting to dismiss their offer and the lingering unease that crept up your spine. The thought of walking home alone again made your stomach twist, and the steady presence of the dog at your side was a strange but undeniable comfort.

Remus’s amber eyes met yours, steady and kind. “You’re safe with him,” he murmured. “Padfoot won’t let anything happen to you.”

The dog huffed softly, as if to emphasize the point, and you felt a small, tentative smile tug at your lips despite the lingering fear. Slowly, you nodded. “Alright. I’ll take him. Just… until I’m home.”

James’s grin widened, a glint of relief in his hazel eyes. “Smart choice,” he said lightly, his tone warm but not overbearing.

Remus nodded, taking a step back toward the shadows. “Just keep him close. And when you’re inside, tell him to go. He’ll find us.”

Your gaze lingered on the two of them for a moment before you glanced down at the dog again. “Padfoot,” you murmured softly, testing the name. His ears perked up at the sound, his massive body shifting slightly closer to you as if ready to move.

James gave a small wave as he began to follow Remus into the shadows. “Take care, love. You’re in good hands- well, paws.”

You let out a shaky laugh, the tension in your chest loosening slightly as you turned to continue your walk. The dog- Padfoot- stayed close to your side, his presence a silent but steady comfort. Each step felt lighter, the earlier fear ebbing away with every reassuring glance at the hulking figure beside you.

The streets still held their eerie quiet, but you didn’t feel so alone anymore. London was still beautiful.

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singmyaubade · 22 days ago

Text

Growing Pains

poly!marauders x female!reader

summary: you are in desperate need of a job, and the marauders are in desperate need of a babysitter, what's the worst that could happen?

warnings: eventual smut! 18+ | age gap between marauders & reader (not heavily identified) | reader is 21 + | mature language.

author's note: hello everyone! so i have multiple poly!marauder fics going on at this very moment (i know) but this was something that came to me and i thought it would be so cute to write since i never really dip my toes into this kind of normal au's. but please enjoy!

! divers by @cafekitsune & @saradika-graphics !

Being unemployed right out of university was not part of your plan.

You knew that it wasn’t unusual to be unemployed after attending university, but you also had high expectations for yourself.

Originally, you were going to intern at your father’s law firm for a while just to get on your feet, while living in your own studio apartment, which he would pay for—his reward for you ‘stepping up’ straight out of university.

After that, you planned to gain some experience and then be able to work at an actual law firm—not just intern—and pay off your studio apartment on your own.

But, as usual, you and your father had gotten into a blown-out, heated argument about your future. All you had said was that you ‘wanted to do some writing on the side’ during dinner, and everything blew up when he claimed that ‘writing is unreliable and wouldn’t get you anywhere in life,’ which only pissed you off.

It ended with you saying some things you didn’t regret, but maybe should have, and him cutting you off financially, retracting the offer at his law firm.

Instead of groveling, you let your stubbornness take over, storming out and having to find somewhere to live as soon as possible.

Thankfully, your cousin, who had graduated a few years before you, was openly looking for a roommate and wasn’t charging a high rate. You took the offer immediately, but finding a job was a real pain in the ass.

Every place you tried to intern at said you didn’t have enough experience or was in competition with your father’s law firm.

And every place you applied to—whether it was as a barista, waitress, assistant, etc.—rejected you.

For no reason, might you add.

You were growing hopeless and severely depressed. Mary was finding it quite hard to comfort you lately, especially since you were holed up in your room, refusing to leave.

She didn’t even think you went out to use the bathroom.

So eventually, when you came out of your room for your 8 PM coffee, she confronted you.

“Y/N,” She sighed, looking at you as you wrapped yourself in a blanket, dark circles under your eyes. “I love you a lot, but I need you to bloody get it together!”

You groaned. “What do I have to live for if no one will hire me and I’m just unsuccessful?” You sulked. “I mean, I’m going to be living with you until you and Lily have kids!” You screeched, horrified.

Mary looked spooked. “I pray not,” She replied, walking over to you and cupping your cheeks in her hands. “You just need to have more faith in yourself—and maybe a little boost,” She said, letting go and sitting on the counter. “Which is why I got you that little boost and got you a job!” She said excitedly, grinning as you looked at her in shock.

“Wait, what?” You responded. “Doing what? And how?” You asked nervously as her grin widened.

“Well, it’s a full-time babysitting gig,” She said happily, swinging her legs.

“So, a nanny?” You asked, sounding a bit deflated.

“Well, unfortunately, I don’t think you’ll be living with them, but yeah, kind of,” She said, as you hummed.

“And you know the parents?” You asked hesitantly.

“Oh, like the back of my hand,” She said calmly as if your question was ridiculous.

“I mean, should I text them or anything? Or at least let them get to know me before I start babysitting for them?” You asked nervously.

Mary waved you off. “They’re really chill, they’ll love you,” She said happily as she hopped off the counter.

“Wait, but—” You tried to speak again, but Mary wasn’t having it.

“I’ll send you their address. You have to be there at 10 AM!” she yelled before heading to her room.

That wasn’t very informative.

You were never this nervous. You really didn’t want to mess this up. Your palms were sweaty, and you were worried they'd think something was wrong with you, maybe unfit to handle kids if you were this nervous over meeting the parents. And Mary hadn’t even bothered to give you any info about the family—no names, no details about their children.

What made it worse was that you couldn’t decide what to wear. You wanted something casual but presentable, something that said 'I’m approachable, but not a slob.'

You were pretty sure the wife wouldn't appreciate anything too scandolous, and a single dad might misread it.

You ended up choosing a red and green Christmas sweater, mom jeans, and Mary Jane’s—comfortable enough, you thought, to handle kids.

Unfortunately, your timing didn’t match. Without a car (since your dad had cut you off), you had to bike there. And to make matters worse, you’d burned your toast and didn’t have time to make more. You were late, pedaling as fast as you could, praying your GPS was right.

You finally arrived at a beautiful suburban house—exactly what you imagined when you thought of a family of four. The house had a neat front yard, a doormat, and was surrounded by well-kept homes. Taking a deep breath, you rang the doorbell and quickly checked your reflection. Your hair was a mess, but you didn't have time to fix it before the door swung open.

A man with black hair, a black button-up shirt, and tattoos on his arms greeted you. He was strikingly handsome with a charming smile. And.. great, you were already crushing on the dad.

"Hey, you must be Y/N, the babysitter Mary recommended," He said with a grin, extending his hand. "We were expecting you—come on in."

The house felt warm and homey, with photos of kids everywhere and Christmas decorations all over. Toys were scattered on the living room floor but not in a messy way—just lived in.

"Sorry about the mess," The man said, laughing and running a hand through his hair. "You’ve arrived during morning madness."

"Oh, it’s fine," You replied, feeling flustered. "The decorations are lovely."

"They kind of went overboard this year," He chuckled.

Before you could say anything else, another man entered the room—a tall, broad figure with light brown hair, wearing a white button-up shirt and brown slacks. Scars marked his face, but they somehow added to how pretty he was.

“Sirius,” The man grumbled, “I told you to tidy up an hour ago,” He sent an annoyed look his way,

"Remus," The new man said, extending a hand. "Apologies for the chaos. It’s never this untidy."

"Yes, it is," Sirius teased. Remus shot him a look, and you couldn’t help but laugh.

"It’s nice to meet you both," You said with a smile. "Your home is beautiful. It reminds me of my family’s place."

Remus looked relieved. "We’re glad to have you. Can I get you anything? A glass of water?" He asked.

"I think I’m fine," You answered kindly as Remus led you to the couch.

Sirius sat next to you, creating a situation where you were sandwiched between the two men. You felt a little nervous, but they looked extremely comfortable.

"So, Mary didn’t tell us much about you," Remus started.

"She just gave us your last name and I didn't think it would be kind to search you up," Sirius added.

You laughed nervously. "Yeah, she can be a bit mysterious for no reason."

Sirius noticed you fidgeting and put a hand on your knee. "We’re just happy to get to know you ourselves," He said with a kind smile.

"Well, ask me anything," You said, trying to calm your nerves.

"Anything?" Sirius asked with a teasing smile. You flushed, and Remus shot him a warning look.

"How old are you?" Remus asked.

"21," You answered.

"Ah, the responsible age," Sirius joked, "How has it been?" He asked, trying to make you more comfortable.

"It’s been good," You replied. "More responsibilities now, its been a bit hectic."

"Out of school?" Remus asked.

"Yeah, just finished," You said with a smile.

"What did you study?" He continued.

"Criminal Justice with a minor in Creative Writing."

Sirius raised an eyebrow. "Remus here is a bit of a writer himself."

You perked up. "Really?"

Remus chuckled. "Just write novels here and there."

"Which ones?" You asked eagerly, looking at him in excitement.

"Probably haven’t heard of them," Remus said, shrugging. "The Idea of the Unknown was one that was popular for a bit," He added casually, and your eyes widened.

"Wait, you wrote The Idea of the Unknown?" You asked in disbelief.

He laughed. "Yeah, that’s me."

He seemed completely nonchalant as he mentioned one of the books that had shaped your entire view on life. You were amazed by how humble he could be about it.

And then it clicked,

He was one of your all time favorite authors.

You almost fainted. "You’re the Remus Lupin?" You asked, excited.

"Surprised you know my work," He said. "I didn’t think your age group read my books."

"I love your books!" You exclaimed. "The story between Ophelia and Duke had me crying for weeks after the ending."

Remus smiled warmly. "I spent fifteen years perfecting that ending. Glad it made an impact."

"But we're glad you love his work," Sirius teased, a sly grin painting his face.

You blushed, mortified. "Sorry, I didn’t mean to turn this into a meet and greet. I swear I’m not a stalker."

Sirius laughed. "Honestly, this just makes us more sure about you. At least we know you have taste." He nudged your shoulder jokingly.

You felt a bit guilty for not asking more about their kids. "So, what are their names?"

You pointed to a picture of two kids—a boy with dark hair and hazel eyes, and a shy-looking girl with long brown hair. They were both in front of the Christmas tree with matching Rudolph pajamas as the boy smiled confidently in front of the camera and the little girl hid behind him.

"Harry is almost four—he’s a bit of a handful, but he’s brave. Ruby’s shy, but she’s a clever little thing." Remus says, "And don't be fooled by either of them, they love to prank people and be up to no good,"

"They’re both adorable," You said. "I’m sure I’ll love them."

Remus checked his watch. "Actually, they should be back from their walk about now."

And just as he said that, the door opened, and in came a tall man with glasses and black hair that was shorter than Sirius's, carrying Ruby on his back and with Harry hanging from his leg.

Yet another handsome man.

"Okay, go to your daddies," The man said, setting Ruby down. She rushed over to Sirius, while Harry went to Remus, peppering him with questions.

The man turned to you. "And who’s this?" He asked with a grin.

You felt your heart race. "I’m Y/N, the new babysitter," You said, extending a hand.

"James," He said, then surprised you by pulling you into a hug. "Nice to meet you."

Sirius laughed. "He’s a hugger." He picked up Ruby as she pulled on his long locks of hair, earning a pained groan from him as he put her back down, "Not nice," He jokingly pouted as he rubbed his head.

You were too busy by James's embrace to be fully locked on to the kids as his scent infiltrated your nose. James smelled like maple syrup and firewood, and it almost made you dizzy.

When he pulled back, he grinned. "We’re glad to have you."

"Yeah, we need a new face around here," Sirius added as Ruby shyly hid behind his legs.

"Come on, Ruby, say hello," James coaxed, looking at the little girl and nodding his head to you as she went towards you in a shy manner, "She won't bite," James added, trying to help.

You kneeled down to her level. "Unless you want me to," You joked, making her giggle.

"My name’s Y/N. What’s yours?"

"Ruby," She said quietly.

"That’s a pretty name," You said. "You’re pretty too."

Ruby smiled shyly, and you stood up to find a little Harry already approaching you.

"Do you have cookies?" He asked, looking up at you with wide eyes.

"Not yet," You laughed.

"Bwoo," Harry pouted, moving over to James as he picked him up.

"Looks like you’re going to be a good fit,"

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thebestofoneshots · 10 months ago

Text

A LITTLE BIT OF PAINT | wolfstar x reader

Pairing: R.L. x S.B. x Reader

Word Count: 9.9k

Warnings: smut, threesome, finger fucking, oral (male receiving), handj*b, dry h*mping, thigh ridding, p in v, Remus is a mess, mild Dom!Remus (if you squint really hard), he might also have a praise k!nk, Sirius is a flirt (danger to humanity honestly), homoerotic scenes(?), you and Sirius can’t take your eyes off Rem, Rem can’t take his eyes off you either, consent is sexy!

Prompt: Sirius and you are art students and you’ve got an assignment, a nude painting, but you can’t paint each other. Trying to convict Remus to model for you was hard enough, but painting him, while he looks so damn stunning, might prove a harder endeavour to accomplish.

♡ NSFW: Smut under the cut

“So?” Sirius asked as he leaned onto Remus, “would you do it?”

“Pretty please?” you asked with a small pout and a few blinks.

Remus sighed, “Why don’t you just paint each other?”

Both you and Sirius had been trying to convince Remus to be your nude model for an assignment for the last 20 minutes. He was your best friend, and both you and Sirius had always wanted to use him as a model, but had never been too keen to do it, not even clothed. But you needed him now.

“We can’t do someone we’ve fucked,” Sirius said with a sigh, “We’d already done it otherwise.”

“Just use each other and draw a face from a magazine,” Remus offered.

“It won’t work either,” you responded now, “We’ve both been models for the class, they know our bodies.”

Remus tried not to blush at the thought of Sirius and you, naked in the centre of a room for hours on end while people stared and drew all the small details of your bodies. The details that he assumed had only been seen by the other, now he regretted not taking the class, but scolded himself out of those stupid thoughts.

He sighed, “Ask James?”

“Regulus’ gonna do James,” Sirius responded, “He was obviously more than thrilled to oblige him.”

“We wouldn’t be asking you if we didn’t need you, please Moony!”

Remus looked to the side, licking his lips before biting on the bottom one and sighing, however could he say no to the two of you. “Okay,” he whispered.

“Wait, really?” you asked in disbelief, a huge smile dancing on your lips, it made you look stunning.

He nodded, “But you’ll owe me, big one.”

You leaned in to hug him and then Sirius did the same, both of you sandwiching Moony in between the two of you.

“Anything for Moony,” Sirius added.

Just a few days later, you were outside of one of the classrooms. It was a smaller cosy one that tended to be used for models, with huge windows but near the top of the building so no one would be able to look inside. You had rented it for the rest of the day since both you and Sirius were determined to finish in one sitting, and neither of you was sure if Remus would subject himself to more than that either.

“You think he’ll come?” you asked as you looked at your watch for the third time that day.

“He’ll come, luv. Don’t worry about it.”

You sighed, Remus was seldom late. And it took you some time to convince him, you were scared he wouldn’t want to anymore.

You were fumbling with the keys to the room, and just as you inserted them inside the keyhole, you heard a fumbling at the end of the corridor.

“Sorry I’m late,” he said, his bag hanging on the side and a coat hanging on the other side. I got held up by the traffic, “I brought the car since it said it was gonna rain, thought I could give you both a ride back, when we were done.”

You smiled when you spotted him and flipped the keys as Sirius gave you an “I told you so look”.

Remus was breathing heavily when he reached the two of you, “and then I couldn’t find the room, this place is a bloody maze.”

Both you and Sirius chuckled at that. “We arrived late to our first class,” Sirius said. “The teacher told us we’d have to find our own model for being late and we made a deal to model for each other, that’s how we met.”

“I know,” Remus said. He remembered when Sirius and you became friends, first Sirius didn’t shut up about you, then he introduced you to each other, and he understood why Sirius couldn’t shut up about you. Remus and Sirius went way back, they had been friends since elementary, along with James, Peter, Lily, Marlene and Mary. You had quickly gotten along with all of them, and they had made you a part of their little group.

Finally, the door clicked open and you pushed on it, allowing both boys to get in before shutting it down and putting both the hand lock and the latch bolt. Remus threw you a look. “We’ve heard stories of people walking in on people painting and ruining their stuff by knocking things out. I doubt you’d want someone walking in on you.”

Remus nodded and moved to sit on the small coach on the side. Thankfully the room was designed in a way to make models feel at ease. There was a music box where you could play tapes on the side, a sofa for them to feel comfortable, and then there was a table in the middle of the room. Both you and Sirius walked to the closet and he pulled on the easels while you went for the props you were planning to use. A small basket filled with fruits. “You brought the sheet?”

“On my bag,” he said as he nodded to the side.

“Kay,” you said as you leaned down to get it.

“You may start changing Moons,” Sirius said, as the boy moved to help him with the easel. They had one in their apartment, and Remus already knew how to set it up from seeing Sirius do it so many times before.

He swallowed and made sure to finish setting up the easel before nodding and walking towards the table. Sirius was taking off his leather jacket, and Remus attempted to ignore the way his friend’s muscles bent as he did. Sirius had always been beautiful, but this attraction he felt for his best friend was relatively new, he could barely stand it.

You were still looking for the props when you turned around and spotted Remus pulling his soft brown jumper over his head. He wore a soft beige cotton shirt underneath it that was just a little tight over his arms. You tried not to bite your lips as you stared. Both Sirius and you had talked about how pretty you both thought Remus was, what a shame it was he wasn’t into either of you, if only you knew.

Sirius gave you an amused look, his lips curling into a mocking smile and his brows shooting up and down. You pushed him lightly with your shoulder and walked toward the table before your cheeks warmed even further.

“We’ll do mine first,” Remus explained, at least my sketch, Sirius’ next and then we’ll alternate.

“You’ll do different poses?” Remus asked as he looked up at you, pulling the other shirt over his shoulders little after. Sirius tried not to laugh at the way you were looking at his friend. He had already seen how ripped Remus was, they were roommates, after all.

“Yeah,” you responded as you got a hold of yourself. “We are gonna make it seem like we drew different people.”

Remus nodded in response. He was slightly self-conscious about his scars, he’d gotten them as a kid in an accident. His parents were zoologists and worked with wolves, they had taken a puppy home since he was hurt, and Remus thought it was a dog. He pulled the hurt animal out of the cage to “play with it” but accidentally grabbed him from the part he’d been hurt, the animal retaliated by slashing him, face, torso, back, and legs. Remus had been 4 and had no way to defend himself, he also didn’t want to hurt the puppy so he allowed it to happen. When his parents found him, he was crying in a pool of blood, and the wolf pup had hidden somewhere in their garden.

There was apprehension in your eyes as you stared at his scars, not because they were ugly, you thought Remus was beautiful, but because you thought of the pain they had once caused him. You cleared your throat. “I got this for you,” you explained as you showed him the basket of fruits, you had bought them all yesterday and left them in the small fridge in the room. “You’ll be holding in both of your arms, it’s like a recreation of an older painting,” you explained.

Remus nodded, taking in the information as he fumbled with the button of his trousers. Half focused on what you said, half mortified over getting naked in front of you and Sirius.

You pulled the basket in your hands again, “Kind of like this, okay?” you said as you grabbed the basket in the way he would be grabbing it, giving the fruits one last arrangement and taking a picture for reference in case they moved around. He gave you an understanding nod and you gave him a thumbs up in return. Sirius walked over to take Remus’ clothes from the table, and hastily dropped them over the smaller sofa, bringing over a bottle of wine, a decanter and an empty cup.

“Our concept is based on gods, she’s going for Bacchus,” he explained, Remus was fumbling around with the trousers at the end of his feet, taking longer than he normally would to take off his clothes, Sirius obviously noticed. “She wants to capture the youth and lust of winemaking.”

Remus gave him somewhat of a stern look and Sirius smiled cheekily in return. “And yours?” he asked.

“Eros and Psyche,” Sirius responded with a slight tilt of his head.

“And Psyche?”

“Don’t worry your pretty head with it yet,” Sirius added condescendingly and got a shove from Remus in return.

You were looking at the two of them with a smile, you’d always loved the relationship with the two, there was never a time they were more at ease than when they were with each other.

Sirius sighed, and you smiled. Remus still felt nervous, taking his socks off and keeping his boxers on as he waited for new instructions. Sirius gave him a look as he sat on the window just behind you, and your easel, looking at how you sharpened your pencils and charcoal for sketching. “Would you help me pose him?” You asked, turning your head slightly to Sirius before focusing again on your pencils and canvas, taking a ruler to break down the piece into smaller squares to make sure you got your proportions right.

Sirius nodded, jumped down from the window seal and picked up the white sheet he’d brought from his backpack.

“Time to take them off, mate,” he said. Remus swallowed and nodded, taking off his boxers carefully and throwing them in the same direction Sirius had thrown the rest of his clothes. Then he placed his hand over himself and stared in between you and Sirius nervously. You were still focused on your canvas, so you didn’t quite see the interaction, but Sirius did and smiled. He had the inkling little feeling that maybe Remus was into you. He had told you about it but you had shrugged it off, Remus had become something like your best friend, there was no way.

But Sirius had known Remus for longer than you did, and he knew his friend like he knew the back of his hand –and boy he knew that one well from seeing it so much while painting. And the nervous glances Remus kept throwing your way, made him feel a little more confident of his theory. Perhaps all the two of you needed was a little push, and then that one recurring dream he had could become a reality.

Sirius extended the sheet over Remus and placed it on his arms, just falling off the shoulders like some kind of shawl, he then accommodated the sheet covering one of his legs and his private parts. Remus seemed reassured by that, and Sirius again, tried not to smile knowingly. He then passed Remus the basket and helped him accommodate it in place.

“It's not too heavy is it?”

“Not right now,” Remus said as he held it between his hands. Sirius then proceeded to place his hands on Remus’ bare back and traced his fingers over his friend’s muscles in a reassuring and discreet manner, giving a light squeeze near his neck.

“Relax,” he said as he looked at the boy. Sirius had no idea how little relaxing that devious smile of his was, Remus’ skin burned at his touch. “Lean your head back a little bit, would you?” Remus swallowed and did as told, anything to have Sirius step away before he noticed the things he was actually doing to him. “A little bit more,” Sirius insisted and placed his hand on the boy’s neck. Allowing it to linger as he moved him around as he pleased.

“Hey Angel,” he called, and you looked up, smiling at the sight of the two boys, “Is this all right?”

“Come here,” you told Sirius, he finally let go of Rem and walked towards you, standing just behind the easel just at your side. “What do you think? Isn’t he a little too stiff?”

“Yeah,” Sirius responded.

“Thought so,” you breathed and left your pencil and charcoal on the easel before walking towards Remus. “Close your eyes, would you?” you asked softly. Remus hesitated before doing what told. “Take a deep breath for me, good, that’s good… Remember that time you told me about your trip to Dover? You told me you climbed to the very top of the castle, that it was freezing cold and that no one but you had been brave enough to climb up to the roof. It was empty but there was a thin layer of snow on the ground. So thin that when you pressed your feet, it melted away allowing you to see the stone.

“You mentioned you leaned over the edges and got to see the castle, the grounds and then, then you got to see the ocean.” Remus' tense self was slowly starting to subdue. “You said you could hear the distant waves, and then you felt a small prickle in your cheek.”

“It started snowing,” Remus said softly.

You smiled, took a grape from his basket and placed it near his mouth, pushing it in between his lips. He opened his mouth when he felt the fruit and ate it with a frown, opening his eyes to look at it, and then at you. You were so bloody close to him.

“There you go,” you said with a smile. “Much better now, keep that relaxed face of yours so I can paint it, will you?” you added teasingly. Remus was munching on the grape with a confused and yet amused face. You gave him a short wink and then went back to your spot, missing the slight flush that coated his cheek.

“Comfortable?” Sirius teased.

Remus threw him a look and you swatted Sirius with your pencil softly. “Stop teasing him, he’ll tense again,” you scolded. Remus couldn’t help but smile at the small interaction between the two and you finished up with the sharpening, picking up the pencil and starting to sketch. Remus let his head fall back as you traced, closing his eyes and changing his stance every once in a while, pulling his head off and watching you knit your brows together as you moved your pencil over the canvas.

“You’re getting the proportions wrong,” Sirius said. “His hand is bigger than that.”

You grumbled in return, “I know! I just–“ you pulled an eraser and started to furiously move it over the canvas, Remus was looking at the two of you carefully. “I can’t get it to work out.”

“Want help?”

“You can’t keep helping me when I don’t get the hands right…”

“Why not? You always help me with light and shadow, you’re an expert.”

You sighed, “It’s not the same Sirius.”

“Yes it is,” he said in a no-nonsense kind of way, then he placed his hand over yours, and started guiding your sketch. “Come on, loosen up.”

Meanwhile, Remus was looking at the domestic scene between the two with a mix of admiration and longing. The two of you looked stunning as you painted him, both deeply focused on the canvas, with a casual glance straight at his hand holding the basket, he smiled as he saw Sirius lean even closer to you, obviously unnecessary but something Sirius did often anyway. He had never seen his friend as smitten with a human as he had seen him with you.

Eventually, Sirius let go of your hand and you added a few other touches. “Do you want to start painting or should I start with my sketch first?” he asked.

You turned your head and stared at the cloudy sky, “I’ll use the sunlamp for my lighting, we can do yours if you want, that way you take advantage of natural light for your drawing.”

He nodded, “Okay, get ready, I’ll work on the canvas.”

You sent him a short wink and he walked behind his easel. Remus took the time to put down the basket and accommodate the sheet around him a little better. “Cold?” you asked, “we can turn off the AC.” He shook his head. Just self-conscious then, you realised. Well, he won’t have to worry too much about that.

You took your hoodie off and then, but it wasn’t until you took a hold of your shirt and flipped it over your head that Remus realised what was going on. Your hands were behind your bra when he averted his gaze to the side completely blushed. “Sirius, If you’re painting her, can I leave?”

“Of course not,” Sirius said simply, “I’m painting the both of you.”

“You what?”

“Eros and Psyche, remember?”

“But you said you couldn’t paint people you’ve fucked,” he retorted in a rather accusing manner.

“Yeah, that’s why I’ll switch her hair colour and you’ll cover her face.”

“You never said I’d have to pose with your naked girlfriend!”

“It’s okay Rem, I don’t mind, I’ve been a nude model for the class a couple of times.”

Remus, as he would naturally turn to look at you when you spoke, but quickly turned his head to the side when he realised you were now completely naked.

But I do! He thought as he tried to think of anything other than the curve of your breasts. Naked grandma, naked grandma.

You eyed Sirius, “Maybe we can–“ you started, biting your lip.

“Nonsense. We’re all adults, go on.”

You gave Sirius a stern look and he gave you back an equally determined one, nodding towards Remus, a clear indication for you to walk his way.

You took a deep breath but did what he wanted anyway. Walking towards Remus and gently placing a hand on his shoulder, “Hey, If you really don’t want to do this-“

Remus’ head snapped your way, he focused his eyes on yours as best as he could, “No, I– I just– I wasn’t mentally prepared.”

You smiled and tilted your head. You could see the self-restraint he was using not to look at your chest, Sirius was really trying not to cackle behind you as he sharpened his pencils, “You can look,” you said, “you’re gonna see them anyway Rem.” He gave you a frustrated frown. You smiled teasingly in return.

He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and looked. He was about ready to just stare for half a second and then move on with his life but he couldn’t quite look away. Not when he saw them perk up for him, his warm breath so close to you causing such a reaction.

“They’re beautiful, aren’t they?” Sirius said with a smile from behind the easel. The kind of confident smile of one who knew he could touch them whenever he wanted.

Remus cleared his throat and looked at Sirius. Naked grandma. NAKED GRANDMA. “Go on with your painting, yeah?”

“You haven’t even posed,” he retorted with a smile. You turned your head over your shoulder to look at your boyfriend, “where do you want me?”

Remus tried not to think of those words, and not to memorise them either. He didn’t want to have dreams about it. Sirius on the other hand, smirked and walked over to the two of you, “Alright mate, time to lose the sheet,” he said as he pulled the one thing covering Remus’ body. While Rem shot to cover himself, Sirius gave you a look and then winked.

You narrowed your eyes at him as you tilted your head, what the hell are you up to, pretty boy?

“Okay, Moony. I need you to sit on the table.” Remus did as told, “Now open your legs a little bit.” Remus gave a stern look to Sirius but did as told, still using his hands to cover himself. “Please Rem,” he added, “I’ll show you mine and you’ll show me yours? Take those hands off, would you? We’ve both seen plenty of dicks already.”

You were looking at Remus’ clavicle as he did, trying to avoid the spot that made him so self-conscious, but Sirius was way bolder than that, and he stared straight at his friend’s cock instead. Was that a twitch? Sirius smiled, bit his lip, and turned back to you.

“You’ll be in between his legs, he’ll have his arms around your arms and his head on your shoulder, is that okay?”

“Okay,” you said simply. Now, had it been any other person, perhaps you wouldn’t have accepted the pose, but this was Remus, you trusted Remus.

Remus, who realised there was no use in arguing, did what Sirius had described, leaning forward so you wouldn’t have to stand so close to him. He tried to avoid his chest brushing into yours, ever the gentleman. Anyone else might have just taken advantage.

Sirius nodded and walked behind his easel again, “Luv, hide your head on his neck, okay?”

“Mhm,” you said and did as told. Being so close to Remus was making you feel things. He was really warm and strong. You enjoyed the way he held you, Sirius could tell. He also knew you as the back of his hand.

“Would you mind leaning in a little closer to him?”

You nodded and did as told. Now your chest was brushing against his, Remus could feel your hardened nipples against his chest, the tip of his ears was now red, even if a good deal of blood was going south. You assumed it was due to embarrassment.

Sirius had already started to draw, and you decided you’d try and ease him, you bent your elbows and wrapped your arms around his shoulders, allowing his grip to become a lot more secure, “It's okay,” you whispered. “Sirius is way faster at sketching than me, he’ll be over in a second. I’m sorry for making you uncomfortable.”

“No, I’m sorry for making this so awkward,” he said softly. “I bet you are used to this and I’m making it weird.”

“Not really,” you said honestly, leaning your head on his shoulder a little more, that was something you had done often, with clothes, though. “I’ve never modelled with anyone other than Sirius. I only said I would because it would be you.”

“You what?” Remus asked, you accommodated and your lips accidentally brushed against his neck, he felt the blush spreading, he was losing control. He couldn’t keep thinking of a naked grandma when he had you pressed against him, whispering on his neck, your warm breath against his skin igniting him like a match against dry leaves.

“I only agreed to Sirius’ pose when he proposed it because you’d be the male model. I don’t like modelling so close to other people.”

Remus sighed, closing his eyes, his cock was already half hard, and here you were talking to him about trusting him to be the male model, he was a total dick.

“Luv, lean in a little closer would you?” Sirius asked.

Remus didn’t even have enough time to give Sirius a warning glance since you confidently did as told, and that’s when you felt it: hard, brushing just under your belly button. You pulled apart just for a second and looked down.

He is huge.

Remus was beet red and staring at Sirius with a mix of exasperation, embarrassment, and anguish. But neither of you seemed to mind, you just pulled your hips slightly back and went back to the previous pose, your nipples brushing against his chest again and making his boner grow even more.

“It’s okay,” you reassured, “It’s actually quite normal, you’d be surprised how many times it happens.”

Remus had his eyes closed shut and was trying not to think, not of your soft chest against him, not of your soft breath fanning against his skin, and certainly not of how close your pussy was to his dick.

You could tell how much more tense he was now. “Do you want to take a break?”

“No,” he said quickly. “Let’s just get over with it.” The last thing Remus needed was to take a break only for it to happen again the minute your skin came into contact with his.

“Are you sure? You’re a lot more tense now, Moons,” you said with a frown as you gently brushed your hand on his soft back, tracing a finger over one of his scars without quite realising you were doing it.

He shook his head, “No, it’s okay.”

“Remus–“ Sirius started.

“It won’t work,” he snapped a little harsher now.

Sirius’s perspicacious look turned into a smirk, he knew he wasn’t imagining things. He gently placed his pencil on the easel and walked over to Remus. “Why not Moony?”

“Sorry?” He asked, nervous. You felt him tense even further and pulled back, he got a glimpse of your breasts again and he only became harder.

“Sirius, you’re making him more nervous,” you added with a frown, your hand still brushing reassuringly on his back.

“No,” he replied, and focused his gaze back on Remus. “I want to know why it wouldn’t work.”

Remus grabbed the basket that was still lying around and placed it over his lap, covering his ever-growing boner.

“You don’t have to respond to that, Rem.”

“He does,” Sirius insisted.

Remus looked at Sirius in disbelief before huffing. “You’re making your bloody gorgeous girlfriend, pose with me and hug me, and lay her head on my shoulder, all while naked. And you’re looking at us, with that, piercing fucking gaze of yours while you do. A break is not going to help because you’ll make us do it again!”

Sirius still had a stern face on, but you noticed the small twist on his lips, he was holding back a smirk.

“Sirius,” you warned.

“No,” he said and focused on Remus again. “Remus, you think my girlfriend’s gorgeous?”

“Everyone thinks your girlfriend’s gorgeous.”

“No, Remus. Do you think she is?”

Remus avoided Sirius’ gaze, red with embarrassment and anger. More at himself than anyone else. His jaw was clenched and his eyes squeezed shut.

Sirius threw you an amused look and you gave him an impatient one. You could tell he was playing with Moony and you didn’t like it one bit. Sirius, though, wasn’t one to stop things so easily, and he pulled you softly from your spot in between his legs and took it, placing both hands on Remus’ shoulders who just tensed even further. He leaned closer to his ear, “I’m asking you something, Remus.”

Remus didn’t reply, the muscles of his jaw clenching and unclenching. You were about to pull Sirius back but he spoke again, “I’m asking because–” he tone was softer, the threatening tone from earlier fading into a more lewd one, “It’s okay of you do,” he whispered, and then pressed his lips to Remus’ tense shoulder. Remus’s eyes snapped open and he spotted you, you gave him a short smile, and then he felt Sirius’s lips pressed against him again, “because we both have the hots for you as well,” Sirius mumbled against his skin.

Remus swallowed thickly at that, and you could feel a familiar pulsing between your legs.

Remus pushed Sirius off, the other boy just stared at his friend with a smile, “don’t play with me, Black!” he warned, angry and steady.

“He’s not,” you interceeded. Sirius was a flirt, it was hard to believe him sometimes, but for you, who had been with him for a while, it was easy to see the shine in his eyes when he saw Remus, it wasn’t there when he saw other men. You walked over to Sirius and took hold of his arm, laying your head gently on his shoulder and allowing your entire front to be exposed to Remus. “The question is, Remus, do you like us back?”

Remus’ breath was caught in his throat, he wasn’t sure what to respond, could he even?

“And what does that mean?”

You shot Sirius a glance, there was a silent understanding between the two of you, a small nod from Sirius, and you walked closer to Remus, “It means we like hanging out with you,” you said softly and took a step towards him, “It means we like having you around, It means we like it when your eyes brighten as you speak of a new book you love and it means we love the way your hair falls on your face when you forget your umbrella and you borrow one of ours.” You were dangerously close to him now, “It means we like it when you stand close to us, it means we would like to touch you,” you placed a hand on his leg, and traced from his knee to the thick of his muscle, and left it there while making soft circles with your thumb.

“It means when we invited you to model for us we were being selfish, we wanted to have more of you than we normally did,” Sirius said, also walking closer, “It means I specifically had to wear bigger pants because I knew the moment I saw you naked along with her, my mind would roam, and take me back to my dreams.”

“Your dreams?” Remus asked as he gulped, gaze darting between your hand on his leg and Sirius approaching both of you.

“Our dreams,” you interceeded, having him turn back to look at your face. “The question is, Remus–“ You grabbed onto the basket and started to drag it away from him. “Do you want us? Or is this just a natural reaction?” you asked, nodding back to his hard cock, trying not to lick your lips as you did.

Sirius still hadn’t touched Remus, but he was standing so close he’d only have to lean in to kiss the boy’s neck. “I–“ Remus hesitated, and looked at Sirius, trying to find confirmation. He could barely believe what was going on, perhaps he had fallen asleep on your shoulder and this was just a figment of his eager imagination.

Sirius smiled and nodded down. His pants were big, but not big enough to hide the tent that had formed in his pants. Remus swallowed again. By now you had already discarded the basket of fruit, a couple of them rolling out and scattering on the floor with a loud thud. None of the three seemed to hear it, all of your gazes were firmly set on each other.

“It is real, Remus,” you said and leaned close enough to kiss his neck near the spot Sirius had kissed initially. You had wanted to do that while Sirius was sketching the two of you, and you took the chance to finally do it. Still, neither you nor Sirius had touched Remus’ cock, you wanted him to say yes before you did something irreparable. But unlike Sirius, you didn’t leave your kiss as a small innocent one, instead, you opened your mouth to his skin and started licking and sucking lightly.

A strangled moan escaped Remus’ lips. and you smiled, continuing to kiss him in the same way, eager to hear the sound again.

“Should we take that as a yes?” Sirius asked, voice raspy and low from how turned on he was at the sight of the two of you.

Remus let out a soft scoff, and then he pulled you from his neck, he hated the disappointed glance you had as he held your face in between his hands. Your eyes were blown with lust and your lips were wet from the kiss.

You swallowed, ready to pull apart but Remus dragged your head towards his and leaned in just enough to plant a desperate kiss on your lips. You were surprised at first but quickly melted into him, moaning as he dragged his demanding tongue over your lips, which only fueled him further, he wanted to hear those sounds, he wanted to hear the both of you make those sounds over and over again until he was deafened by them.

“Yes,” he whispered as he pulled apart, panting for air and dropping smaller kisses around your face, “bloody hell yes!” he insisted.

Sirius leaned in, and whispered on Moony’s ear, “Should have told us earlier.” He pressed a soft kiss to his cheek, but quickly moved down to kiss the boys jaw, “We’ve been dreaming about you for months.”

“Imagine my surprise when Sirius woke me up, panting your name,” you said, “I thought it was a nightmare until I felt how hard he was.”

Remus sighed and leaned his head on your shoulder as Sirius continued to kiss him, you took that as an opportunity to place your hand on his back again, allowing your fingers to feel and touch every single part of him that you hadn’t been able to touch earlier, and that you found absolutely stunning.

Another moan escaped Remus’ mouth when he felt your hand on his back, and Sirius smiled, the wicked smile of his and he pulled apart from his neck and easily sat on the table before moving behind Remus in a kneeling position, taking both of his shoulder and pulling him back from the hunch he’d been on. The sight of both boys almost set you on fire, Sirius noticed, he noticed almost everything.

“Moony, love,” he said as he leaned into the boy’s neck and allowed his hand to softly massage Remus’ back muscles, “Isn’t she stunning?”

You threw Sirius an inquisitive look and he just winked, he seemed to always know what to do.

“She is,” Remus breathed, eyes hooded as he allowed Sirius to touch him, clearly lost on him.

Sirius smiled, “I want you to touch her,” he said with a smirk, “touch her like you wanted to touch her when I was drawing the two of you behind the easel. I saw you looking at her, I saw the way your hands fought to stay in place.”

“Sirius,” Remus warned.

But Sirirus’ smirk only grew wider, he knew his words were sending both you and Remus into a state of absolute frenzy, all he’d have to do was push you into each other, “Touch her, I know she wants it as much as you do.”

Remus was hesitant, but he placed his hand on your shoulder and dragged you closer to the two of them in a soft pull. You looked up at him and smiled, squaring your shoulders and allowing him to see your almost throbbing nipples, desperate to be touched, and to be held by either of the two.

He was slow and hesitant, allowing his hand to fall from your shoulder to your arms, and then to your waist, and to the small of your back. Sirius placed a soft kiss just over Remus’ ear and then whispered, “Touch her, Remus, touch the place you’ve wanted to touch since you saw that little black bra of hers that makes me lose my mind.”

Remus breathed, he remembered the little piece perfectly, he allowed his hand to drag up, and let his thumb rest right under your breast, feeling the soft bounce of it and gently rubbing underneath, an innocent touch, almost a graze, nothing in comparison to the way Sirius would sometimes grab at them, and yet, it was just making you wetter. “Remus,” you whined as you leaned your head on his free shoulder. That seemed to be the fuel he needed to drag his hand even further up and allow his thumb to brush against your nipple. You clenched against nothing as he did, and moaned. He had a small scar tracing just around his thumb, the feeling of textures against your skin dragging you to heaven.

Sirius smiled at your reactions and started to kiss his neck. Which had Remus’ head tilt back in pleasure. That’s when you leaned your hand down again, eager to feel him, you were gentle and decided to give him enough time to stop you if he wanted, but the slow massaging of your hand towards his cock was only making Remus grow harder, a small droplet of precum already coming from his tip. He hadn’t even dared to dream of such a moment, and here you were, making it happen. When your hand finally wrapped around him he let out a breathy moan, his hand on your breast tightening. You smiled and pressed a soft kiss to his shoulder.

“May I?” you asked softly.

“Please,” he managed to say, Sirius chuckled at his neediness but Remus was quicker and pulled on his hair to drag him to his mouth. The longer-haired boy was surprised at first but quickly smirked into Remus’ demanding kiss, swallowing all the moans that would leave him as you slowly brushed your fingers over his cock. First, tracing a thin line from the bottom to the top, right over the pulsing vein. And then you wrapped your hand around him, firm but gentle, and rubbed the tip with your thumb.

Sirius pulled from the kiss that Remus chased into just to let you hear his moans and whispered, “Do you hear that, love?” he said as he placed a hand on Remus’ neck to keep his desperate lips from crashing against his mouth again. “You’re turning him into an animal.”

“We are,” you responded and tightened your grip around him, starting only now to gently stroke. You got to hear another moan from Moony before Sirius returned to kiss him. You leaned your head on Remus’ shoulder again, that place proving to be one of your favourite sports of the night, and started to trace kisses up his neck. You could feel his reactions in the way he would sometimes squeeze your breasts a little harder, or when he moved his hand down your waist. “And he makes such lovely sounds, doesn’t he?”

Sirius hummed in return, not daring to tear his lips away from the kiss.

Then you reached Remus’ ear. “If only you knew how wet you’re making me,” you whispered, a sly, fox-like smile appearing on your lips. Sirius threw you a side glance in between kisses and raised one of his eyebrows at you.

“Show him then,” he said before going back to kiss Remus, but using one of his hands to place it on the boy’s waist. “Pull back a little, Moons.”

Remus did as told, giving you enough space to be able to climb into the table as well, both legs on either side of one of his, and then slowly you let yourself down onto him, sighting at the feeling of his muscles against your sex. Remus gave you an encouraging squeeze on the waist, and that was enough for you to start grinding yourself onto his leg. Somehow, you managed to maintain the strokes on his cock as you rubbed onto him.

“Do you feel that, love?” Sirius asked as he broke the kiss to have the two of them look at you. You had your eyes closed and were focused on both your hips and hand movements. You felt Remus’ cock twitch, but you didn’t know it had been because he was looking at you. “Do you feel how wet you’ve made her?”

Remus looked at his glistening leg as you slid down and then up again, firmly pressing yourself against him, even if it was hard with the position you were in. He flexed his muscles and he felt your hand tremble in his cock, “She’s so pretty, Pads. You get to see her like this all the time?”

Sirius chuckled and decided to kiss Remus’ neck, so they could both continue delighting at the sight of you riding his leg. Remus seemed hesitant at first, but he dragged his hand down to your waist and towards your leg. Clearly giving in to the temptation to touch.

“Go ahead, she likes it,” Sirius encouraged in a chuckle and Remus didn’t think twice. You stiffened when you felt his hand brush against you as you pushed yourself into him, now opening your eyes to figure out whose hand had been bold enough. You smirked when you realised who it had been.

“Still curious?” you asked and pushed yourself towards his hand again.

Remus didn’t speak, instead, he focused on brushing his fingers over your folds which had you sight in content. But Remus was slightly hesitant as if he wasn’t sure how to touch you properly. When Sirius realised the lack of moans, he decided he’d help. He placed a quick kiss on Remus’ temple and then moved behind him again. Allowing one of his hands to rest on Moony’s neck and then using the other to trace his arm until he reached the hesitant hand still brushing against your sensitive spots.

“Like this,” he said as he took hold of his hand and started making his movements more determined. You moaned at the new, more purposeful touch, and Sirius’ smirk grew. “Slow and determined,” he instructed. Remus himself found your clit after that, and he gently pressed his finger over it, testing.

“Fuck do that again,” you managed to whisper as you leaned your head on his shoulder again, Sirius placed a soft comforting kiss on your temple, your hands on Remus’ cock becoming dumber as the pleasure consumed you.

Remus did as told, and you moved your hips towards his fingers almost instinctively. “Such a fast learner,” Sirius praised, and you’d swear you saw Remus inflate slightly at his words.

“Yeah, Moony!” you sighed, voice mellow, something in between words and a moan. “You’re amazing,” you added as you kissed his neck, chasing all the way to his mouth. The hand that Sirius used to teach him, had long forgotten its purpose and had somehow found its way to your breast, pinching and squeezing like he knew you loved. His lips glued to Moony’s neck in the meantime.

Moony pressed a tentative finger to your entrance, you smiled into the kiss, and pushed into him, he bit your lips as his finger dug inside you, “Fuck,” he whispered into your mouth, “so tight.” You clenched around him, as you pulled from the kiss and brushed the tip of his cock with your thumb, you were eager to hear another one of those melodic moans of his. And you did, reeling on the power he had given you before going back to kiss him.

“She is Moony, it’ll feel insane around your cock too, I promise,” Sirius whispered to his ear. If you had been thinking properly, you might have swatted him for assuming how things would end, but the idea of having Remus’ cock inside of you only made you wetter, your hips chasing his finger a little more desperate as you used it to chase your own pleasure.

Remus used his free hand to take yours from his cock and placed it on his shoulder since he knew that would help you be a little more steady, he missed your touch, but the moans he pulled from you were enough compensation. He went for another finger and you moaned at how much more full you felt. Remus had longer fingers than Sirius did, and the scars added a layer of textures that you had never felt before but that you could easily get used to.

His touch was much more curious and soft than Sirius’ had been the first time, and you’d be lying if you said it wasn’t aiding you into a state of absolute bliss. Sirius, ever the clever, figured out you were close in a second. He pulled Moony deeper into the table, pulling you along with him, took off his shirt and moved behind you. Both of his tights around yours, Moony’s in between. He pressed himself onto you allowing you to feel his warm and slightly sweaty skin. You could feel his boner pressing onto your ass which had you sight in pleasure.

“How’s that, my love,” he said. “Do you like having Moony’s hand all over you? His fingers inside?”

“Sirius,” you sighed. His hands were now on your hips, helping you ride Moony’s fingers with much more ease. Moony’s fingers got faster, and you could feel Sirius holding back from dry humping you from behind, his hips sometimes chasing against your ass, you had neglected him a little. “Like that,” you managed to whisper once Remus did a particular movement, a flick of his finger, and he instantly repeated it.

“She’s close Moony,” Sirius warmed as he felt you tense, he moved his hands on your body reassuringly, but in the way that he knew you loved, you tensed, tightening around Remus’ fingers, and then let out a long, and quiet moan. “There you go,” Sirius added softly as he brushed his fingers over your leg, both of them helping you ride down from your high. Eventually, Remus took his fingers from inside you and placed a reassuring hand on your leg. You closed your eyes, head still pressed onto his shoulder as you breathed in, Remus had always smelled delightful, but you’d swear he smelled even better today.

You then reached your hand down but Sirius beat you to it, “My turn,” he said as he pushed you closer to Remus and took a hold of his cock. “You don’t mind, do you?” he asked Remus with a smile, knowing well his answer.

Remus gulped and shook his head, which had Sirius smile like a wolf and start playing around with his friend’s cock. He clearly knew what he was doing much better than you did since he had Remus panting and moaning a lot faster than you had. He also had you firmly pressed against Remus as he touched him, if you had wanted to –which you obviously didn’t– you wouldn’t be likely to get out in between the two. Still, you busied yourself with kissing Remus’ neck again, that spot that you seemed to be addicted to.

Remus sighed, and you started to brush your hands all over his body, moaning and grunting growing louder. Sirius felt his friend’s cock twitch in his hand and he knew he was close, so he stopped. Remus gave him a pleading look but he pulled his hand back completely and the you along with him. You didn’t realise what was going on until you saw Remus’ throbbing cock and confused look.

“Sirius!” you reprimanded. Remus seemed to be struggling to form proper words.

“He won’t get to fuck you if he comes into my hand,” Sirius responded then leaned his head into your shoulder and looked at Remus with a knowing pout. “Would you rather come into my hand than feel her tight little pussy around you, Moons?”

Remus scoffed. He wasn’t sure what he was expecting by getting sexually involved with Sirius Black, but he should have fucking expected this kind of behaviour.

Sirius smiled, “How about we help him cool down a little but keep him hard, darling?”

You leaned your head back onto Sirius, opening your legs a little for Remus to get a better view of your glistening sex. “What do you like, Remus?” You asked in the most innocent tone. As if you were asking about the taste of ice cream he preferred and not the kind of shit that turned him on.

But frankly, neither you nor Sirius would have to do anything special to turn him on, he already pretty much worshipped you. Remus was still at a loss of words, he stared at both of you, then down between your legs and then up at your faces again.

“Do you want me to eat her out?” Sirius asked as he tilted his head.

“Or would you rather see me blow him?”

“Cowgirl?”

“Doggie?”

Remus was sure that if you didn’t stop you, you might just list the entire kamasutra before he made a choice, “anything.”

You tsked and shook your head, “No, Moons, that’s not the deal,” you replied. “What do you want?”

Again, he saw you tense and relax between your legs as you asked him, and he didn’t miss the smirk that drew on your lips when he started. “I want” –he hesitated– “touch him.”

“Your wish is my command,” you said with a smirk and instantly turned to Sirius, making sure to have him spin around enough so that you wouldn’t have Remus just look at your back, although he would have been more than happy staring at the way your ass moved.

“Did you hear that, Pads?”

Sirius hummed in response as he helped you accommodate, you were now cradling him. You first went for a kiss, soft, but demanding, as you two kissed, you lowered one of your hands and gripped Sirius over his pants. He moaned into your mouth and you pulled back from the kiss, no matter how addictive his lips were, you wanted Remus to hear his precious moans as well.

Remus’ hands were itching to go back to his cock when he heard Sirius’ moan. He was too pretty, both of you were, he could still barely believe what was happening, but he sure loved every bit of it. “Help me get this off,” you said as you turned to Remus and pressed your hands onto Sirius’ belt.

He raised his eyebrows amused and you gave him a short wink. He did as told. Leaning in closer and unbuckling the belt before sliding it off Sirius who was a moaning mess since your hand was still on him. Once Remus managed to move the button off, you were quick to digg your hand in and Sirius raised his hips a little to take it off along with his boxers.

Remus’ cock twitched when he saw Sirius’ hard and proud. He wanted to touch it as much as he wanted to see you touch it, but he wasn’t sure Sirius would want him to touch it so instead he moved his desperate hand to the boy’s neck. You smiled at that and brushed yourself against him, passing his cock over your folds a few times to coat him with your wetness before gripping at him securely.

“Sto–p teasing,” Sirius managed to say, and you laughed, placing a soft kiss to his cheek before wrapping your hand around him and starting to stroke. Remus seemed fascinated by the way you moved your hand on Pads, like you knew exactly what he wanted when he moaned or moved his hips slightly to the side. At some point Sirius started to chase your hand with his hips as well but Remus placed his hand on his legs to keep him down. Sirius turned to the boy with a frown and Remus smirked.

“I said I wanted her to touch you, not for you to fuck her hand,” he replied in a low tone.

You giggled at the stifled moan that left Sirius’ lips when Moony said that, and continued with your strokes, turning your wrist so you had a bit more control and toying with the tip whenever your thumb got close enough to it.

“Close,” Sirius breathed and you smiled, looking at Moony with a small smirk before pulling back a little from both of them but still stroking. Then you pulled further down and Sirius almost came in your hands at the mere image of what you were about to do. You pressed a kiss to kiss your stomach, and gently lowered down, allowing your nipples to brush over his cock causing him to shudder.

You licked your lips before going down and pressing a soft and gentle kiss over his tip, you could feel the blood rushing and his cock twitching. You then pressed your tongue to him and Sirius let out a low, almost imperceptible groan. The first, soft splurt of his cum fell on the outside of your mouth before you wrapped your lips around him and sucked the rest of him dry. By the time you were done, Sirius was panting and gripping onto Remus’ leg as he attempted to catch a breath. You raised yourself back up to look at them both.

You opened your mouth to show you had yet to swallow it all and then turned to Remus, “Want a taste?”

Sirius was already sore, and yet when Moony nodded and pulled you in for a desperate kiss, he swore he felt himself twitch again. In a matter of seconds, you had climbed onto his lap, leaning into the kiss and only pulling apart to see his reaction, a line of spit still connected the two of you as smirked.

“Fuck,” Sirius said in a low moan at the sight.

“How was it?” you asked as you bit your lip.

Remus tilted his head and dragged your hips to his, “Is not over yet, is it?”

“I meant the taste,” you replied as you rolled your hips on his cock.

He licked his lips, and laid his head on your shoulder as he looked at Sirius. “Fucking delicious,” he said.

You pressed a soft kiss to his neck. “Bet,” you added before rolling your hips against his again. “Ready?”

“Mhm.”

“Good,” you said, and then lifted yourself, brushing on his cock a couple of times before bringing your hand down to it, brushing his tip on you, making sure to brush your clit, and then slowly, sinking yourself onto him.

You breathed out as you did, getting used to his size, and he waited patiently for you to finish.

“You all right?” he asked softly.

You let out a breathy “Yeah.”

“Tell me when I can start moving.” You squeezed your walls around him. “Fuck–“

Sirius laughed from the side and placed a hand on Remus’ arm, “Did I not mention she has a tendency to do that? I almost came the first time she did it to me.”

You squeezed again and then started to move, slow and steady at first, Remus was a groaning mess again and it only fueled your resolve to continue moving and squeezing, eventually, his hips started thrusting up into yours and your movements seemed to synchronise.

“Touch her too,” Sirius suggested and Remus did as told, quickly bringing one the hands that rested on your waist to your clit. You started to roll your hips so you could increase the pressure and he helped by moving his finger closer.

“Is that good?”

“Fuck yes,” you responded.

You continued for a while, and you felt Remus get extremely close, if his moaning indicated anything but then he stopped thrusting into you and you slowed your pace with a questioning frown.

“Can…” he panted. “Can I try something?”

You nodded in return and Remus smiled, he pulled you up with his hands on your waist –his cock still inside you– and flipped you around, now your back was laying on Sirius’ chest and you could feel his semi-hard on your ass.

“Moony what are you–“ he started but was shut up by a kiss as he thrusted into you. Both the kiss and your asscheeks brushing onto him had Sirius harden even more as Remus thrust in and out of you.

“Touch her the way she likes,” he said to Sirius in between kisses and the other boy did exactly that, chasing in between the entanglement of bodies until he found your clit, tentatively, he brushed his hand down to feel where Remus and your body connected and Remus moaned at the feeling of Sirius’ hands on him again. “I said touch her,” he added with a sigh, “I want her to come again.”

Sirius smiled and pressed a short kiss to Remus’ lips. “Your wish is my command.”

Seconds later Sirius’ expert fingers were on you, brushing and circling your clit the way that made you brainless, your ass pressed onto his cock and Remus rutting into you quickly made you feel absolute bliss.

“I’m about to–“

“She as well,” Sirius said as he felt the way you moved on top of him.

Remus reeled at the thought and groaned out as he started to come, he tried to pull out but Sirius was quick to keep him in place. “She’s taking something,” he said simply, and that was enough for Remus to allow your walls to milk him. As he did, Sirius was fast with his hand and you were cumming on Remus’ cock, squeezing him even more as his pace started to slow down.

Sirius, who was already sore, came for the second time that night a little after, surprising you since you were not expecting to feel the sticky wetness against your ass.

Remus felt it too, since part of it spluttered all the way to his legs and he looked at Sirius with a mildly impressed stare.

“You two are fucking hot,” he said, unapologetically. Remus pushed into you a couple more times and then he allowed his weight to fall on both of you.

“Too heavy?” he managed to ask.

“No,” you said as you accommodated your head next to Sirius’ and pressed a soft kiss to his jaw. He sighed in contentment.

Eventually, Remus drew himself out of you and then pulled back from his position on top and instead laid with his back against the table. He bit his lip, “I guess you’ll have to find another model.”

“No way in hell we’re ever gonna look for another model,” you said with a laugh, also rolling from Sirius and letting yourself fall right in between the two of them, “Moony’s just perfect, isn’t he?”

“Thought you couldn’t paint someone you’d fucked…” he breathed.

Sirius laughed, “Well, they don’t have to know we’re a thing…”

Remus felt so many emotions at once, you were a thing, but also Sirius doesn't want people to know.

“…until after we’ve handed in the paintings, and gotten our grades,” he added with a cheeky smile.

“Besides, the sun is gone,” you added. “We’ll have to come back another day.”

“Didn’t you mention a sunlamp or something?” Remus asked.

“We’ll have to come another day,” you repeated with a smirk. And Remus gave you an impressed look.

“Do you guys have anything to do?” Sirius asked.

You shook your head and Remus said a quick “No.”

“Why?” you asked.

“I think Prongs is sleeping over at Reggie’s.”

“Is he now?” Remus questioned.

“I thought we could have a sleepover of our own.”

You scoffed a laugh, of sleep, it wouldn’t have much.

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