Thanks angel! So I didn't set this quite when you imagined it sorry but given what I plan to come next for them I thought Sirius and our reader could use a bit more bonding :) And no need to apologize for interacting ever, I'm happy to have you here!

cw: muggle au, arranged marriage, Sirius is somewhat objectified but he likes it (actually, not in the way men say this), reflection on war

a/n: Please do not misconstrue my participation in the marauders fandom as support of JKR. If you’re new here and want to participate in the fandom, I encourage you to do so without participating in anything that would provide financial gain to her or her vile agendas

poly!marauders x princess!reader ♡ 1.3k words

Sirius is out in the courtyard again. 

It’s like he does it on purpose. He has to know, doesn’t he? Sirius isn’t the sort of man with no clue as to his own appeal, and choosing to do his exercises in the courtyard a large portion of the castle’s window’s face—when you know there’s a dedicated training room inside—can’t be a choice made thoughtlessly. 

He probably doesn’t know that he’s treating you specifically, half napping on a sun-soaked settee just inside the window, but you think Sirius must be aware of how the muscles of his bare back ripple when he lowers his chest to the ground, pausing briefly before pushing back up again. They shift like a mirage in the afternoon sun, along with tattoos you’d never seen before the first time Sirius went out to the courtyard and tugged his shirt off without warning. You’d been reading in this same spot, distracted by movement outside the window, and the sight had shocked you into stillness. You really ought to learn his routine better so as to avoid these one-sided run-ins. 

Maybe your subconscious already has. 

Hiiii I hope you're still around and if you are, thanks for being so patient with this! I got this on new years' day so I waited until the holiday came around again to write it lol, I hope you like it and I hope 2026 treats you well <3

cw: PTSD

poly!wolfstar x fem!reader ♡ 855 words

Sirius doesn’t bother to hide his sidelong looks as you watch the New Year’s Eve special. His face is cast half in blue, eyes dark and gentle. 

“Okay?” he checks. 

You shrug, sipping from your ginger ale. You were relegated to cold drinks only after the first set of firecrackers startled you into splashing hot cocoa on your chest. 

When you don’t answer, Remus turns to look. He’s been keeping tabs on you since it got dark outside, too. He’s just subtler about it than Sirius is. 

“Hm?” Sirius prompts. 

“I didn’t think it’d be this bad,” you admit quietly.

You knew yourself well enough to predict being jumpy at the sounds. Every bang shocks you like a physical zap, echoing a pain that’s not really there. You didn’t predict the sizzling anticipation in between; how each moment of quiet feels charged, ripe and foreboding, the way the air thickens before a lightning strike. 

Thank you for your request angel <3

tasm!Peter Parker x shy!reader ♡ 662 words

Your boyfriend is a dastardly, scheming man. 

Thrice today you’ve found yourself standing underneath sprigs of mistletoe that weren’t there the moment before. In the kitchen of your apartment, stuck to an awning you were passing under, dangling from the corner of a crosswalk sign. You honestly don’t know where Peter keeps getting it from. When you tried to check his pockets, he yelped and acted all affronted as if you were feeling him up. You walked for four blocks without speaking to him. 

You try your best to pretend they’re not there. The one in the kitchen you indulged, because it was in the privacy of your apartment and you thought it was sweet, but apparently that set a bad precedent. Peter’s kiss-hungry now. Even when you pass underneath his traps while pretending you don’t see them, you can feel your face heating bashfully, which you know he likes almost as well. It’s a win-win for Peter, and a lose-lose for you. 

He takes some pity on you when you stop for coffee, nudging your hand away from your wallet with more gentleness than playfulness and ordering your favorite drink with an easy knowing.

“Still mad at me?” he asks as he follows you to a table. He takes the chair without asking, letting you have the side with the booth. 

You pull your gloves off finger by finger. “You called me a pervert.”  

“If it helps, I don’t think any of the people standing around believed me.” 

I'm sorry about your bad week angel. Hope things are going lots better now <3

a/n: Please do not misconstrue my participation in the marauders fandom as support of JKR. If you’re new here and want to participate in the fandom, I encourage you to do so without participating in anything that would provide financial gain to her or her vile agendas

James Potter x fem!reader ♡ 707 words

You think that you’ve cleaned up your mess. Your face is dried. Your eyes aren’t puffy. You’ve stood in front of the mirror and watched all traces of your upset fade away like the earth soaking up rain. By the time James’ key fits into the lock, you’re as good as new. 

“Hello, m’love.” He toes off his shoes, turning towards you with that flare of energy he always gets at the end of the workday (it’s when the real day begins, he’ll say, as if that’s not completely insane). James looks trim and handsome in his work clothes with the top button of his shirt undone. He does a double take. “What’s the matter?” 

You falter, your hello of reply fizzling on your tongue. “What?” 

“Sweetheart,” James’ voice drops as he crosses the rest of the distance to you, “what’s wrong? Tell me.” 

That, it seems, is the limit to your restraint. You burst into tears. 

Big, fat, plodding tears. James half crawls over the back of the sofa to hold your face, catching them as they come for a moment of helpless surprise for the both of you. He wrestles you into his arms, your fingers tangling instinctively in the starchy material of his shirt. 

Eeek so sorry you went through that babe!! Thanks for your request!

a/n: Please do not misconstrue my participation in the marauders fandom as support of JKR. If you’re new here and want to participate in the fandom, I encourage you to do so without participating in anything that would provide financial gain to her or her vile agendas

cw: blood, needle, fainting, vom mention but no actual vomit

emt!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 778 words

You grow antsy as the nurse ties the tourniquet around your arm. Your eyes dart between her and the heart disease poster on the wall like you can’t decide whether to watch. Remus decides for you. 

“Don’t look,” he says, watching you patiently from the nearby wall. With the nurse needing space to work, only two of your boyfriends could fit on either side of you, and Remus has been relegated to support from a few feet away. 

You breathe out as you lift your gaze again to the poster. “I am so pissed at you guys.” 

Sirius huffs a laugh. “We love you, too,” he says, tilting your head towards him to kiss your brow and then tucking it into his shoulder. “Don’t forget to squeeze James’ hand.” 

Despite your alleged resentment for them at the moment, James feels your fingers tighten on his. 

Thanks for requesting lovely!

a/n: Please do not misconstrue my participation in the marauders fandom as support of JKR. If you’re new here and want to participate in the fandom, I encourage you to do so without participating in anything that would provide financial gain to her or her vile agendas

cw: talk of not eating (unintentional)

poly!wolfstar x fem!reader ♡ 820 words

It’s not rare for Sirius to come home to a quiet house—he jumpstarts the noise, usually, because left to your own devices you and Remus are quiet as mice—but when he kicks off his shoes today, he can’t help feeling like the quiet has a different flavor. 

You’re sitting at a barstool across from where Remus is working in the kitchen. Sirius sneaks up behind you, snaking his arms around your waist and smooching your cheek. “Why are we sulking?” he asks you. 

You turn your head, a silent request for a real kiss which he happily obliges. “I’m not sulking.” 

“Liar,” he says fondly. “Come on, it’s not even six. Too early to be upset.” 

You nod at your other boyfriend, who’s chopping basil with the steady mercilessness of an executioner. “He’s icing me out.” 

“I am not,” says Remus. 

Sirius hums. “Everyone seems to have an idea of what they’re not doing.” 

You sulk harder. “He is. He’s cooking at me all passive-aggressive.” 

“I’m cooking for you,” Remus snipes. “You can’t cook at someone.”

“You manage it.”