Soft Touches In The Morning

╰┈➤ soft touches in the morning

warnings: just fluff.

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a muffled groan from beneath the covers met her ears, prompting her eyes to widen in excitement as she quickly turned over, pulling the blanket back. “rafe?” she squeaked, relief washing over her as the seeming forever-lasting boredom was finally over. y/n was an early bird, yet didn’t like getting out of bed without him, so her only choice was to wait patiently until he opened his eyes.

yawning, he lifted his head from the pillow slightly, taking in the ear to ear grin on her face, covered slightly by the tangles of her hair. “hi baby..” he cooed tiredly, squinting as the glaring sun attacked his eyes. “c’mere..” he rasped, snaking his arms around her waist before pulling her weight on top of him. “rafe..we have to get up..” she whined, huffing as her actions contradicted her words. shuffling down, she rested her head in the crook of his neck while her nails drew patterns on his chest.

“mm..stay like this for a bit…yeah?” he breathed, allowing his eyes to flutter shut again as his hand moved to her hair, massaging her scalp gently.

“you’re so cute” she sighed, giggling to herself as she looked up at him. cocking a brew, he re-opened an eye to glare at her. “cute? i’m not cute” he huffed, pouting his bottom lip out.

“what are you then?” she laughed, stroking the pad of her thumb along his jawline. “me? i’m manly” he chuckled, puffing his chest out as his grip on her waist tightened, his fingers playing with the waistband of her sleep shorts— his boxers. “sure you are..”

“what’s that supposed to mean?” he yelped quietly, craning his neck to face her as his mouth fell agape, feigning hurt. “i mean, you’re a big baby” she teased.

before she had time to react, his grip tightened and he flipped the two of them, suddenly pinning her beneath him. “that right, sweetheart?” he grinned, mischief dripping from his words as she struggled against his weight.

he chuckled as she tried and failed multiple times to escape, but to no avail. “you give up?” he suggested, prompting an answer as he pressed numerous wet kisses to her forehead. “never!” she laughed, attempting to fool him for a second as she went limp, before quickly springing into action, trying to pull her knees up against her chest. “c’mon baby, just tap out— you know you want to..” he snickered, staring down at her expectantly.

“fine!— get off me, jerk” she huffed, grateful for the sudden distance as her lungs suddenly had more space for air. “don’t be such a sore loser, it’s not a good look” he smirked, pushing off from the bed before moving to the doorway.

“oh, you are such an asshole rafe cameron!” she seethed, swatting his chest as followed behind him hurriedly— soon stomping passed him.

“an asshole that you love, right angel?” rafe chuckled, quickly swiping at her legs, eliciting a squeal as he lifted her into the air, carrying her down the stairs.

“maybe if you make me pancakes i will..” she suggested, turning to smile at him sweetly as he simply laughed, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead. “yeah, okay..”

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thinking about doing that one bow trend with rafe 🎀

you’d literally have to beggggg him, he’d be like “what? why? fucking stupid.”

you’re more pissed off than anything, if you’re being honest the picture is more for you than it is for anything else. rafe’s biceps turned you on like nothing else ever could. you had so many pictures of rafe’s arms, it was embarrassing but oh my god they just did something to you.

“cmon, it’s just a cute little trend. please?”

“fine,” he could never say no to you. ever. even when he put up a fight, he never had intentions of saying no to you.

you took the light pink strip of ribbon you had and tied it around his arm, a heat growing between your legs just from touching rafe’s arms and seeing how big and juicy they looked.

rafe watched as you tied the ribbon around his arm, you barely had enough, underestimating how big his arms really were, despite literally gripping onto them every time he fucks you.

you snapped a picture, more than a few but rafe didn’t need to know that.

“that’s it?” rafe asked.

“yeah,” you giggled, you had no intentions of posting it anywhere, you took those pictures to keep them all to yourself.

rafe flexed his bicep, making the ribbon fall off his arm completely. “you like these big arms don’t you baby?” rafe said in a cocky tone, half joking, half not. “my turn to get what i want,” he tackled you with kisses.

lovelovelove!!!!!!!!!

ahh i want to give spencer a million kisses!! like just hold his face and kiss him awwhhh! he deserved so much love <3

you don’t have to write anything on this if you don’t want ofc!!

Ugh, he deserves all the kisses in the world!! Also, I apologize for taking so long to answer this. I know you said I didn't have to write anything, but I just couldn't resist <33 wc: 612

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“You okay?”

You blink up at him from where you’re tucked into his side, suddenly aware that you’re staring. Your cheeks warm, “Hm?”

His brows crease. You watch his gaze flit over your face briefly before he asks again, “Are you okay?” “‘Course, why?” The corners of his mouth quirk up in a knowing sort of way that makes it hard to fight off your own smile, “You’ve been staring at me.” You blow a sheepish puff of laughter out your nose. He lifts his arm from your shoulders to let you shift onto your knees, his hands finding your hips as you toss a bare leg over to bracket his lap between them. Thumbs sneak up the hems of your sleep shorts and find the divot where your thighs meet your pelvis, massaging a line into the flesh there.

Brushing his hair out of his face, you take a second to really look at him. The shape of his lips, the curve of his jaw. How he looks up at you with those sweet brown eyes full of nothing but love. You trail the tip of your middle finger down the bridge of his nose and they close. His lashes kiss the perpetual dark circles under his eyes.

“It’s so unfair.” 

His eyes open and his mouth pouts in that subtle way it does on the rare occasion he’s confused, “What’s unfair?” “How pretty you are all the time.” His cheeks pink. You grin at your victory, “I mean seriously, how are the rest of us supposed to compete when you look like this all the time.”

His throat bobs a little as he fights off a smile, “Not– Not all the time.” You gawk at him dramatically and he snorts.

“Yes, all the time.” He simpers and looks away, shy under your praise. You dip your head to catch his gaze, unrelenting, “Of all people, I think I’ve stared at you long enough to know.”

He makes a little half-hearted sound of protest as he drops his head into the crook of your neck and you chuckle, “What, you don’t believe me?”

He doesn’t reply, only noses at the curve of your jaw. You take that as his answer and decide you won’t have it, “I can be very convincing, you know.”

“Mm-hm?”

Before he has any time to react, you start peppering small pecks over the side of his face. Quick, sweet things that have him laughing and scrunching his ear to his shoulder when you trail them down his neck. He pulls his face away in an attempt to escape your attack but only makes it easier for you to hold his face in place to kiss just about every inch of it.

He yelps your name, cheeks dimpled and burning red. Your own smile makes it hard to keep kissing him. You’re undeterred.

“Baby–,” He tries. Your lips find his forehead, “Y/n!”

He catches your face between his palms, cheeks smushed between as he pushes you back to look at you. His eyes are wide. His smile incredulous, reeling from the sudden onslaught of affection.

“You believe me now?” You grin after he’s deemed you trustworthy enough to return his hands to your waist. “Yes!” He nods, eyes creased with his laughter, “Yes, I believe you.”

“Told you.” You beam, cradling his face in your hands as you lean forward to kiss him as best you can when you’re both smiling so wide. You pull back to sing-song, “Very convincing.” “Mm-hm.” He hums and laughs again, pulling back to rest his forehead against yours when his smile grows too wide to keep kissing you, “Very convincing.”

Hi! I was wondering if you could do poly!marauders with a clumsy s/o? Thank you!

Thanks for requesting love!

cw: blood

poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 1.4k words

“I’m going to purchase one of those leashes for unruly toddlers,” James says, thick lashes nearly touching as he squints down at your hand. “And I’m going to keep it around my wrist at all times.” 

“It won’t be as good at catching me as you are,” you point out. You do your best not to wince as he picks a piece of gravel out of your palm, but his eyes flick up to you anyway, an apology in them. 

“No, but at least I’ll be able to keep you close.” 

You laugh a little. “I trip whether you’re nearby or not.” 

“Beg to differ.” He sounds bitter, but James has always had a terrible poker face and the uptilt of his lips betrays him. He spreads ointment over the cuts on your hand before bandaging it. “If I was with you, this would’ve never happened. Guaranteed.” 

“Yes, it’s all your fault.” Remus comes in from the kitchen, maneuvering carefully so as not to get the hot mug he’s carrying anywhere near James. He sets it next to your thigh on the bathroom counter. “Jamie,” his tone is chiding, a bit tired, “why have you started with her hands? She’s bleeding down to her ankles.” 

“It’s nearly dried anyway,” you say, looking down at your shredded knees. Remus feels too bad for you to give you one of his worse reprimanding looks, but his eyes convey tremendous exasperation nonetheless. 

“Because I knew she’d need her hands to hold her tea,” James replies, bumping Remus’ hip lightly with his. “Ease up, I’ve got it. Did you make yourself some tea too?” 

Remus glances towards the kitchen the way an old captain might gaze at the sea. “I thought about it…” 

“Do that,” James says. He finishes up with your other hand, bandaging it carefully. “Actually, would you mind just putting a kettle on? I’ll have a cup, and Sirius might want one too.” 

You frown at that, but neither of your boyfriends see, Remus going into the kitchen with renewed purpose and James smiling slightly to himself as he finishes wrapping your hand. 

“One of these days,” he whispers, backing up a bit so he can work on your knees, “you’re going to have to sit on the couch and feed Remus chocolates for all you put his heart through. We’ll be lucky if the next time you fall he doesn’t have an attack.” 

“What’s Sirius coming here for?” you ask. 

“Well, he does live here.” 

You give him a look, but he doesn’t glance up from cleaning the blood off your shin. “He’s supposed to be shopping with Marlene.” Accusation and betrayal lines your words. “You texted him?” 

James looks up at you now, sympathetic if not quite sorry. “You know I had to. He would’ve murdered me if he’d come home and seen you all bandaged up and nobody had told him.” 

“You could take him,” you grumble. 

He laughs. “I don’t know, sweetheart. He fights dirty.” 

You laugh too, though it’s more a humorous huff. “He can’t come home every time I trip,” you say, twisting the string of your tea bag around your index finger. “It’s not like I need to go to the hospital.” 

James works a larger piece of gravel out of your knee, eyebrows knit together by compassion. “He worries,” he says simply. “He wants to come home every time you hurt yourself, though if you recall, I didn’t tell anyone about you banging your head on the microwave door yesterday, or about when you fell on the stairs last week.” He looks up, grinning when you shrink, abashed. “But when you fall this bad, it’s a bit harder to hide. Sorry, lovie.” 

It’s a double apology, for ratting you out and for the sting of the ointment he smears over your knee. You hiss through your teeth. “Fair enough,” you say. James smooths a large band-aid over the series of shallow cuts, kissing the skin just above it for good measure. “I just don’t like to worry him. Any of you, if I can help it.” 

He shrugs. “I don’t think you can,” he says. You get what he means. Remus is a worrier, Sirius even more so, protective by nature and nurture. And each of your boyfriends cares about you too much to ignore how often you hurt yourself, even if you really think they should be desensitized to it and annoyed with you by now. “But I’m trying to get you cleaned up before he sees you, so hopefully that’ll help.” 

Like James has just issued a summons, the rumble of Sirius’ bike comes from outside. James grimaces as it slows to a stop. 

“I hate that fucking thing,” Remus growls from the kitchen. 

James shoots a sad smile in that direction. You think that you might not single-handedly cause Remus’ heart attack if Sirius gets there first. 

“Where is she?” Sirius calls as soon as he comes in the door. “I assume there’s a blood trail for me to follow?” 

James chuckles. “I told you it wasn’t that grim,” he shouts down the hall, and a second later there are heavy footsteps coming toward you. You brace yourself. 

“Fucking hell.” He halts just in the threshold of the bathroom, then seems to change his mind, striding over to you. His eyes are glued to the bloody mess of your uncovered knee. “Darling, what did you do?” 

You knew what to expect from him, and still your voice comes out smaller than you mean it to. “I missed the curb going out to get the mail,” you say. 

Sirius’ eyes lift to yours, widening. “You fell into the road?” You nod. “You could’ve been hit by a car!”

“There weren’t any cars.” There are almost never any cars on your street, and he knows that. 

“You’re lucky there weren’t,” he says anyway, holding his hand out. You place one of yours in it obediently, palm up. There’s a bit of blood marring the beige bandage, and Sirius makes a terribly soft pitying sound. “Your poor, lovely hands.” He runs a careful finger over the covering. “How bad was it?” he asks James.

“I told you, not horrific,” James says, finishing with getting the debris out of your knee and twisting the cap off the ointment. He looks up to be sure you’re ready before he starts smoothing it on.

“Stitches?” 

“Oh, tons. She’s held together more by thread than skin at this point.” 

You roll your eyes, but Sirius coos, “My poor sweetheart,” and grabs hold of your face to plant a kiss on your lips. You must look as pleasantly surprised as you feel, because he does it again, bending forward to avoid bumping his hip into your knee. 

His thumb sweeps across your cheek as he pulls away, brows furrowed. “Does it hurt?” he asks, and now the mirth has disappeared from his tone. You don’t know how Sirius does that, going from teasing to not in a blink. 

“Not so badly,” you tell him. 

He hums, stroking your face again. “Would you tell me if it did?” 

You feel your lips twitch, and Sirius’ eyes narrow like he knows your answer before you’ve spoken. “Probably not,” you admit, “but it really doesn’t.” 

He stares you down for a minute, murky eyes scanning yours for traces of untruth, his dark brows lowered. You reach up to slot a piece of hair behind his ear, and he cracks, mouth kicking up at the corner. 

“Alright, drink your tea before it gets cold.” 

“I’ve actually made tea for everyone,” Remus calls, not from the kitchen this time but from the living room. “And snacks, so please come eat them.” 

James grins, touch moving up the back of your knee to your thigh as he stands. “Excellent,” he says eagerly. “You’re all fixed up, m’love. Let’s go take care of Rem now.” 

You start to hop down from the counter, but Sirius says, “Wait, wait!” and grabs you by the hips, keeping you in place. “Can you walk?” 

You nod, because duh, your legs are scraped, not broken, but Sirius looks to James, the both of them frowning thoughtfully. 

“Best not to risk reopening them,” James decides, scooping you up off the counter. 

You huff a laugh, rolling your eyes. “Thank you,” you say, rather than this is deeply unnecessary and you’re being ridiculous. James seems to hear both anyway, planting a sloppy, smiley kiss on your cheek. Sirius, satisfied, follows you down the hall. “I didn’t mean to make you my manservant, I swear.” 

“Happy to do it,” he says. “Now drink your tea, it’ll make Rem feel better.”

Super cuddly Remus, like he just loves holding you and like is always touching you even if when he doesn’t notice it (also he smells like hot chocolate it’s canon)

this is such a good idea! have some headcanons because i couldn't think of complete scenario<3

- he's even more touchier than normal after the full moon, the guy just wants to be next to you, because of that though he does become a bit distant before the full moon but he makes up for it after.

- remus is always holding your hand, eating lunch in the great hall? holding your hand. walking to classes? holding your hand. walking you home from work? holding your hand. walking down the street? holding your hand

- when it rains he always has an umbrella for you both to share so he can pull you closer towards him so you're touching and it keeps you dry.

- he's always resting his chin on your shoulder from behind you and holding onto your waist

- whenever he's close to you you're immediately comforted, your boyfriend makes you feel safe and calm and whenever your thighs are pressed against each other and you smell the familiar scent of hot chocolate you relax and rest against his shoulder

- half the time he doesn't even realise he's touching you, it's just second nature at this point

- he'll stroke your arm and make little patterns while he's laying with his head on your thigh as he looks up at you and you play with his hair.

- parties are not something he's particularly fond of but whenever the marauders drag him to one or if you ask he'll come. at those parties he'll drag you down with him so you're on his lap sitting on the sofa together

"remus, can i ask you question?" "sure, love." "at parties you always hold onto me and when walking together you insist on holding my hand. you're always touching me." "i guess holding you brings me comfort and makes me feel calm. you make me feel secure and wanted. why wouldn't i want to touch, hold and hug the person i love. do you want me to stop?" "definitely not i really like it."

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oh to be rafe's kook princess so he can take me golfing

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