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kquil · 3 months

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REMUS LUPIN | 13:53 — ONE NEGRONI

SUM : to help pay the bills and your tuition fee, you get a new job at an elite club where the tips are incredibly generous. you’ve met a majority of the clientele already but they don’t match the stranger who ordered a simple negroni

TAGS. : mafia au ; modern au ; muggle au ; mobster remus ; mafia boss remus ; bartender reader ; reader is a hard working sweetheart that must be protected! ; catching remus’ eye ; remus lowkey wishes he can be the one to do the protecting ; and maybe more ; for now, he’s a low key stalker ; but sexy… ; stalking is bad, don’t do it! ; this is just fiction! ; but hey! remus owns an elite club! wooooo! ; i don’t know how to feel about my interpretation of the marauders as mafia men/mobsters ; it’s growing on me… ; also, im casting peter pettigrew as Dane DeHan in this!

LENGTH : 1.5k

It wasn’t as if you were new to the job; you had previously worked some years as a bar tender for a pretty well-established club, it paid well and managed to help pay for your rent and utility bills for most of your higher education years. However, all the built up stress and sleepless nights finally caught up to you. And you found yourself repeating a year, meaning that you needed to pay for your own tuition this year atop all the other monthly bills and necessities you keep up with. Perhaps it was the universe telling you that you needed to stop and change the direction of your life — you needed to choose an easier path, a doable path. But you were stubborn and also quite the optimist. So you kept at it, determined to finish what you started and earn your degree.

Yes, it was a let down but you were still breathing. Life just gets hard sometimes.

Thankfully, your past experience and phenomenal recommendation letter from your previous manager earned you another bar tending job at a very elite club, where tips were more than generous, considering the clientele composed primarily of the privileged class, some with multiple businesses under their belts, some who were phenomenal investors and some living off their parents’ money. You didn’t care to look too much into it, you were there to work and you were going to work hard and honestly.

The patrons surprisingly had very similar tastes and so, you fond yourself making the same types of drinks repeatedly. It made the job a lot easier and you were able to focus more on your delivery and interaction with customers, leading to more tips. Times were rough after having to accept defeat with your studies and repeating a year with your own funding but things were looking up. If you keep at it, you’ll make it out alive.

Your only complaint was the dress code. Make up was advised with a bold red lip but must be kept simple. You felt like a showgirl of some kind, squeezed into a high collar, white dress that came down to your mid thigh and with a low-cut, open back. The sleeves aren’t as long as you would like but, at least, you were permitted to use black kitten heel court shoe pumps as opposed to stilettos — your only saving grace, along with the higher salary and generous tips.

“Looks like we have a newbie working the bar,” Sirius points out, drawing all attention to your lively figure as you served drinks with a sweet smile and airy voice. A hum of curiosity vibrates through Remus’ chest and up to his lips at the sight of you, “certainly easy on the eyes, huh?” the tattooed, right-hand comments again as he looks towards the head of the table where Remus holds up his glass of Negroni.

“Very… innocent— a sweet, pretty, little thing,” James comments on Remus’ other side, which Peter grunts at in agreement as he takes a sip of his whiskey-sour.

“Looks like she doesn’t belong,” Peter nods before smirking and letting out a light laugh. The domino effect had James and Sirius laughing too as Remus smirks behind his glass before proceeding to down the rest of his drink.

“Exactly your type, eh? Moony?”

Sirius’ teasing comment is ignored. Instead, Remus calls for there server and orders another drink with an additional request that only confirms his smirking friend’s disregarded statement, “Have the new bartender personally deliver my drink for me as well,”

There was no higher authority that could dismiss the club owner’s personal request.

It was a strange request but you steeled your nerves and asked your fellow bartender to minister your unattended station while you made quick work on the order. It wasn’t unusual to receive requests like this from an isolated table that had privacy curtains for convenience. However, it was usually for drinks that you could make a show out of like a Holy Water cocktail, a Phoenix cocktail and even a Dragon’s Blood cocktail — a performance that you liked partaking in for the flammable aspect. But this was a Negroni. A cocktail of equal parts gin, saccharine vermouth and bitter Italian Campari. It’s a very egalitarian drink that was enjoyed by everyone, men and women alike, simple but elegant and definitely didn’t require a performance. Despite the odd summons, you were eager to fulfil your curiosity for who the client may be.

With a professional smile, you place refined mix in the middle of your circular tray with it’s classic orange garnish and set off to the table. The standby server, who made the order, saw your approach and quickly announced your arrival through the small front opening, momentarily disappearing into the shadow of the curtains. He reappears a moment later and pulls the heavy drapes fully apart, to reveal the guests from beneath the, once, opaque shadows.

To say that you were stunned was an understatement.

It was pure luck that you didn’t stutter in your stride and spill the cocktail prematurely. At the table was seated four men, all dressed in suits and ties that were in various states of disorder. Among their collection of suits, you could spot Armani and Tom Ford, however, you were sure that their unconventional styles were not the way those suits were intended to be worn.

One man with long, midnight-black hair and paper-pale skin had an array of mismatching tattoos littering both arms, revealed to you by his lack of a suit jacket and rolled-up sleeves. Another wore cute circular glasses and a cheeky grin with a suit jacket but no button up shirt and his chiseled upper body on full display. The last was a dirty blonde with piercing eyes and a deceivingly boyish smile. He had his ankle propped up on his opposite knee and several buttons undone where a tie should have been fastened over, his sleeves also rolled up as his suit jacket lay beside him.

It was the man at the head of the table, however, who stole your attention. If you had to guess who ordered such a simple but elegant drink, it would have to be him. He had his suit jacket draped over his broad shoulders and also had several of his top buttons undone, revealing some faded scars marked across his toned chest. His neat brunette hair and kind brown eyes gave him a deceivingly gentle appearance but his close company revealed a duplicity that caught and tensed your nerves.

You ignored the creeping goosebumps that prickled your skin, down from your toes all the way up to your ears.

Just do your job…

“Gentlemen,” you addressed kindly with a slight tilt of your head, which they acknowledged with their own hums of acknowledgement, their eyes lighting up in subtle surprise at your actions, “I have an order for a Negroni,” you raise your tray with the drink and scan the four for some indication as to who the order belonged to.

“That would be for me,” just as you suspected, it was the brunette with the kindest eyes but also the most ominous air. His voice is a deep and smooth lullaby, patient with it’s seduction on your senses. It was a trap that you resisted but are so hopelessly tempted to fall into, “Thank you, sweetheart,” he meets your eyes as you lower the drink into his large, outstretched hand. You notice how his knuckles and fingers are littered with scars also, some fresh, some faded with time and some hidden behind luxurious rings. Nevertheless…

He’s beautiful

She’s precious

“Not a problem,” you reassure with a soft voice, “have a good evening,” with your circular tray pressed against your side, you offer him an innocent smile and dismiss the butterflies in your stomach urging you to linger, “gentlemen,” you acknowledge the remaining three once more before offering another sweet smile. Turning on your heel, you leave the group and ignore the stares drilling holes into the back of your head.

She doesn’t know…

Once you were out of earshot, Remus turns to his closest friends and most trusted colleagues. They all share a look, one that conveys a unanimous thought. It isn’t long before their agreement manifests into knowing smiles and a ring of laughter shared between them.

“Don’t get greedy now, Moony,” Peter chimes in as Sirius throws his head back with a barking laugh.

“That’s not gonna stop him Wormtail, you know that; she’s a rare one,”

“So what’s the plan, bossman?” James asks with a raised brow as he brings his drink up to his lips.

Remus doesn’t answer right away, he simply requests that the curtain remain open so he can fix his fond gaze on you for the remainder of the evening. The group already knew what to do and sat at the edge of their seats, awaiting orders eagerly despite their slack shoulders and composed expressions. Only they were able to observe the shift in the air between them; it became charged as soon as you entered their circle and slowly started accelerating, parallel to the climbing affection in Remus’ eyes as he watches you smile at customers while making their drinks.

He takes a singular sip of his Negroni, bitterly sweet with a citrus edge.

Heaven in a glass. And made by an angel.

“I want a background check and profile put together immediately,” Remus finally orders, “I want to know everything there is to know about her,”

A/N : i downloaded some fics and read some over the holidays and there some mafia/mobster aus and i couldn’t help but picture remus as a mob boss, i’m sure im not the only one to ever imagine this but goddamn! why is it so easy to imagine sweet, gentle, responsible remus like that?!

NAVI.

TAGLIST : @melinajenkins @aastonishment @until-i-found-you @corp0real @celestcies @lovelydoveval @inlovewithremusjohnlupin @calums-betch @futurecorps3 @hihihi1112 @simpingforthe80s @yrluvjane @chaosofmanyfandoms @storyofaromance @loving-and-dreaming @somewereinthegalaxi @ashreblogsficshere @cassandra-nerezza-black @stray-bi-kids @ttkttt @notasadgirlipromise @desikudisworld @volturissideslut @arilxup88 @rosalyn-s

#remus lupin #☽ : timestamp #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin fic #remus x reader #remus lupin x you #remus lupin imagine #remus lupin fluff #remus lupin fanfiction #the marauders #marauders #remus lupin mafia boss au #mafia au #mobster au

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ellecdc · 3 months

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The Drink Snob

mafia!Remus Lupin x fem!reader | 3200 words

p1 // p2 // p3 // p4

CW: mentions of spiked drink (no one drinks it), reference to past spiked drinks, complaining about misogyny, bad reputation of American tourists in the UK (I'm sorry!)

The short of it was: it had been a long day.

The long of it though, by God, was that you really, really needed a drink.

You got to your favourite pub which was only a brisk 7-minute walk from the university; a tiny, hole-in-the-wall Irish pub which probably had several thousand identical pubs lined across the UK but that didn’t matter, dammit, because this one was special – this one was yours. You chuckled at the irony that you had moved half-way across the world to England only to sit yourself in an Irish chain pub that you’d likely be able to find back home a mere 6000 kilometers away.

You relished the feel of the warm air hitting your rosy cheeks after marching your ass down to the pub in the biting wind in naught but a long coat and a scarf. The warm air stung but in all the best ways as you shucked off your outer-layers and plopped down on a stool by the bar, unawares of anyone else within your vicinity other than the bartender promised to serve you your drinks.

“Alright there, Lass? What can I get for ye?” The fellow asked and you could have kissed him right then and there.

“Can I have a negroni and your tallest pint please.” You asked, hoping the desperation in your voice wasn’t noticeable – the fact that the bartender didn’t comment on the odd combination of drinks let you know that is was noticeable. No matter – you were desperate, what did you care?

Turns out you should have cared more.

“I’m sorry but I must tell you, that is an awful combination of drinks.” A lilting voice came from your left side. You groaned audibly and held your hands up to your temples like blinders to avoid even looking at the voice who dared to speak to you after such a day.

“S’pose its good nobody asked you then.” You muttered darkly. You didn’t make a habit of speaking to people this way often – people already spent enough of your time in the UK mistaking you for an American on account of your accent anyway, you needn’t add fuel to the fire by adding to an already bad reputation.

“Please tell me that you’re ordering for a friend. You’ve surely just ordered for someone who’s meeting you here?”

You knew better – you really did. You don’t let strange men in bars know that you’re alone; make them believe someone could show up to save you at any minute. But dammit, you’ve been fending off jackasses all day – what’s one more?

“Apparently, I live to disappoint men, sir, so no – both drinks are for me. Is that quite alright with you? I didn’t realize I had to pass this decision by the board.” You spat, finally turning your what you were sure was a burning gaze to this mystery guy on a stool to your left.

You hesitated in your ire for a moment: the man was quite a bit larger than you had pictured in your mind – not large in a particularly broad way but the man seemed to be excruciatingly tall; he sat basically spilling off his stool, while still managing to look elegant in doing so. He was dressed sharply but not in a way that made him stand out – respectable but forgettable, he blended into this bar well. Or he would if he hadn’t been so fucking handsome.

He had warm, honey-coloured curls that seemed to artfully fall in front of his face, and eyes to match. You’d never seen amber coloured eyes before, but you couldn’t seem to pull your gaze away from them. You did – by god you did – because the rest of the man was too enticing not too. He had a chunk missing out of his left eyebrow which was arched mischievously at what you assumed was your attitude with him, and his crooked smirk matched. He had a few scars littering his face – most were small, but there was one large one that crossed the bridge of his nose, and another nick on the right of his upper lip that may have continued onto his lower, but you didn’t want to get caught staring at his mouth. And of course, of-fucking-course he’d have a dimple. Why wouldn’t he? Could this day get any worse.

“What was the thought process, then?” He asked, his smirk growing deeper.

“What?” You guffawed. He couldn’t seriously be doing this; people didn’t do this, right?

He gestured between the two drinks sat in front of you with his own – a rum and coke if you guessed correctly. “Why those drinks, specifically? They don’t exactly pair well together.”

You stared dumbly at this hot, audacious man. You hoped he’d decide you weren't worth the breath and move along. He only stared back at you.

“There wasn’t any.”

“Hm?” He queried.

“There wasn’t any. Thought process, I mean.” You muttered, taking a sip of the negroni. “I like both drinks – usually separately, but I’ve been dreaming about getting my ass down here since practically 9:30 this morning and I couldn’t choose which I wanted first and I knew that I planned on getting at least a little bit tipsy in order to pretend I didn’t have a completely mind-fucking day so I thought ‘fuck it, I’ll order both’ and I thought since it was no one’s business but my own what I put into my body that I could get away with it but clearly, I was wrong.” You felt winded after your mini rant as you looked back at the man. He seemed genuinely entertained at your story, though his eyes grew a bit softer.

“Thinking of drinking at 9:30 am, hm?” He pondered out loud. “You know, that’s usually the sign of a problem; one might call it alcoholism.”

You barked a laugh. “Yeah, you call it alcoholism, I call it Gilderoy Lockhart.”

“Ah, so boy-problems then, is it?” He asked in a laugh.

You shot him a warning look. “It is not like that.”

“I didn’t mean to offend.” He offered with his hands in the air in mock surrender. “Tell me what it’s like then.”

You sighed dramatically. “It’s really not that big of a deal, I’m just mad about stuff at school.”

“Ah, you’re a student, then?”

“PhD candidate, but technically, yes.” You offered, downing the rest of the negroni.

“Very neat. What’s your focus?” He asked again as you began sipping on your pint, trying not to grimace at the change in drink. You're sure you failed.

“Music.”

“Hm, I didn’t know one could get a PhD in music.” He queried.

“Music theory, but yeah.” You offered, moving your drink back and forth between your hands.

“And that brought you here? To England? Why not stay in Canada – if that’s where you’re from, pardon my assumption.” He quickly apologized.

You smirked at his correct assumption – thankful that you didn’t come off ‘too American’ today.

“She goes wherever the wind takes her.”

Your statement was met with silence, so you turned to see the man had frozen in his movements and stared at you incredulously.

“Are-are you quoting Disney movies to me?”

“So, you did get the reference.”

“I did, I just fail to see how Pocahontas relates to a PhD program in England on music theory.” He mutters, looking up at you from the rim of his drink.

“I finished my Masters, then the wind changed.” You offered with a shrug, “It brought me here.”

He seemed to study you for a few moments before coming to the conclusion that you weren't going to elaborate further. “And what does this Gabriel fellow have to do with the winds of musical theory?”

You snorted indelicately. “Nothing. He just, I don’t know, it sounds stupid now that I try to say it out loud.”

“None of that, now.” The man said gently with the same smirk on his face, “a smart girl like you doesn’t strike me as the type to overreact to male foolishness.”

He seemed honestly interested in your answer, at least, the most interested anyone has ever seemed in your ramblings about your toe headed fellow PhD’er. You tried facetime’ing your friends from home about him many-a-times before, and they listen but they don't get it. And your schedules don’t align and with the time-difference one of you is always either just waking up or going to bed. But this random, handsome guy in your bar making fun of your drinks has done nothing but listen so far and you really wanted to get it off your chest.

So, you did.

You told him how your morning started terribly as you ripped a hole in your stockings and only noticed once you got to campus and you usually don’t dress this formally to campus, but you were guest lecturing for Minerva and you know professors didn’t technically have a dress code, but she always looked well put together so, dammit, so were you. You explained that your mother always was the superstitious type and had you carry an emergency pair on you at all times, so you were thankfully able to change, but only after you spilled coffee on your blazer and had to shrug that off for the day and the lecture halls are ridiculously cold always; you know these stone buildings were built before electricity but surely with the great minds this school has churned out, they could find a way to keep the warm air in and cold drafts out?

And if all that hadn’t been bad enough, the other PhD candidate working under McGonagall is this absolute bell-end that you're almost positive has plagiarized half of his written work because everything he spews is absolute nonsense. He’s rude, and condescending, and spoke over you throughout all of your lectures to wax poetic about different Opera’s he’s performed in across the world - that you swear to God you will fact-check one of these days - that had absolutely nothing to do with the course content. And then, and then, he had the audacity to suggest you were only here because the school was required to accept a minimum number of foreign students and since you were, quote, just a woman, you also checked off their minority requirements too.

“People don’t get accepted here because of their nationality or their gender or their status as a minority. They’re supposed to get here because they’re good.” You muttered, finishing your pint you hadn’t realized you had guzzled during your rant

“And how’d Gavin get in, then?” He asked. You choked on the last of your beer.

“Fucked if I know.” You sighed.

A few more pints were placed in front of you as you continued to rant about the ins and outs of being a scholar in the world of music [for Christ’s sake, what was I thinking? I’ll never work a day in my life.] The man interrupting only to say that switching back to liquor would be a choice you would regret in the morning, and who were you to argue?

And he listened. He scoffed at some parts when you quoted Gilderoy suggesting something ridiculously altruistic that he’d done for the less fortunate while being nothing but condescending, he sprinkled in a few you’re kidding me’s, and even asked you to repeat something he couldn’t fathom the first time.

“See? I knew it. A smart girl like you wouldn’t overreact like that. Sounds like you’re perfectly justified in your ire.” He said.

You hummed as you finished your last pint. You felt thoroughly warm and heavy which was your intention of coming to the pub in the first place. You looked over to notice that the man – whose name you still hadn’t got – was still holding the same drink he had when you first arrived.

“Who are you here waiting for, then?” You asked him.

He looked confused for a moment. “How do you know I wasn’t just in desperate need of a drink myself?”

You nodded toward his still half-full cup in his hand. “Because you really haven’t been drinking.”

He narrowed his eyes and smirked at you. “Observant, aren’t you? Clever girl.” You rolled your eyes at the compliment.

“I was supposed to meet a business associate, actually.” He offered as he looked behind you towards the bar door. You turned to take in the rest of the bar yourself; it didn’t seem like the sort of place one would meet a business associate. The bar was dimly lit and somewhat claustrophobic; it didn’t offer a lot of privacy to talk business. You liked it because it was small - you’d be able to see everyone who was currently in the building with one sweep of your gaze save those who may be in the washrooms, and you could see out onto the street from your seat at the bar.

“I think it might be safe to say they stood you up.” You offered with a smirk as you turned to look back at him, only to find him already looking at you.

“I think you might be right.” He offered, looking you up and down.

You couldn’t help but admit he was quite attractive – and not just in his honey-blond curls and mischievous smirk and long limbs way, but he seemed clever, smart, and clearly he was a good listener. You sort of hoped he’d offer you his name, maybe even his number. You wouldn’t mind waiting around for a business associate of his with him again sometime.

You had no such luck.

He began to stand with an expression that bordered regret crossing his face.

“It appears I must be off.” He offered with a sad smirk as he placed some bills down on the table. You weren't quite familiar with the bills in the UK yet, but it seemed like an awful lot of money for the one drink he had at the bar that was still unfinished. You took notice of said drink as you came to this conclusion and got a weird feeling in your gut as he took the drink by the rim and brought it to his lips.

“Wait!” You said as you grabbed his arm. He tensed immediately and you pulled your hand away as if it burned. “I’m sorry. Just, is that the same drink you had when I first arrived?”

He looked from the drink back to me with furrowed brows. “Yes, why?”

You pointed to the drink he still held in his hand. “It’s old.”

He smirked. “Are you a drink snob, miss orders-two-incompatable-drinks-together-and-drinks-them-at-the-same-time?” You rolled your eyes and snatched the drink out of his hand as he brought it to his lips once again, which earned you an indignant ‘oi!’

“No, you berk, what I mean is, this drink is old. It’s warm to the touch, the ice has all melted and it should be as flat as a board but it’s bubbling, like, a lot.” You said as you held it in front of his eyes. He watched you for a few moments before you continued.

“It looks like someone put something in it.”

His gaze shot back to his drink where, sure enough, his should-be-flat diet coke was fizzing wildly as it began to turn a slightly murky shade.

You watched as he gently plucked the drink from your hand and casually put it back down on the bar and shrugged on his jacket.

“It appears you’re right.” He said in monotone. “Looks like we both ought to take our leave, hm?”

You nodded and followed suit; replacing your jacket and scarf you had ripped off unceremoniously as you had entered and headed for the door. The alcohol made you wobble for but a moment, but you were quickly righted by a gentle hand pressed to your lower back. Mortified, you put your best foot forward and marched out the door, hoping your embarrassment wasn't to evident in your cheeks.

You had to admit, you were beginning to panic. Why were you trusting this man? You had spent the last – you checked your watch – nearly two hours talking to this man whose name you still don’t know completely unaware of what was happening around you, and it turned out that there was someone here drugging drinks.

What if it’s him? An unhelpful part of your brain supplied. Why would he spike his own drink and then almost drink it? You argued back.

“You should be more careful.” You offered in what you had hoped to be a playful manner, but it came out strained. “Do you know of any reason why someone may want to spike your drink?”

He seemed to consider your question as you both walked somewhat briskly down the busy street to the subway station.

“No reason that would be suitable to share in the presence of a lady, I’m afraid.” He offered with a wink, leaning down slightly with his hands in his pocket. This answer didn’t make you feel any better.

“Any particular reason why you’re familiar with the signs of a spiked drink?” He offered back.

“I have a feeling most girls would be able to answer that.”

“Hm, perhaps. But I do not believe all would be as quick to catch it as you were.”

You didn’t answer him; you decided you had shared more than enough with this stranger tonight, and you were officially feeling all sorts of uncomfortable with the situation. You were mostly uncomfortable with how not uncomfortable you felt. It felt easy, walking with this stranger, as if you’ve been walking down dreary streets of London together for ages and this was just another Tuesday.

He stopped suddenly and flagged a taxi. You scowled at how quickly a cab stopped for him and his long as arms.

“Here, it’s too muggy for such a lady to brave the underground.” He offered as he opened the door. You began to protest, you had a tube pass through school for a reason, but his hand was on your lower back again as he gently led you into the car and closed the door before sticking his head in the window of the front passenger seat and tossing a handful of bills at the driver.

“Anywhere she wants to go.” He said, stepping back to the middle of the sidewalk and waving you off.

Between the alcohol, your nerves and being disarmed by the attractiveness of this man, you simply spouted the address of your flat to the driver and turned your face forward. The whole evening seemed otherworldly – like you were missing a big chunk of information of what happened tonight, even though you could account for every minute of it.

Your suspicions would have been proven correct if you had turned around to see your mystery man again, who was now accompanied by two other similarly dressed men - one with an unruly mop of brown curls and a shorter man with long black hair tied back haphazardly - who began chasing a fourth man in earnest down the street in the opposite direction.

Continue to part two here.

#marauders era #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin x you #marauders au #mafia au #reader insert #x reader #self insert #remus lupin drabble #remus lupin fluff #remus lupin imagine #remus lupin fanfiction #short ficlet #marauders are in the mafia #obviously #marauders are a gang #vigilante

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vxntagedior · 1 year

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Mafia marauders picking you up from the police station because you and lily stole the McDonald’s sign after you went clubbing

as much as they hate the police, they're on speed dial because of you.

it wouldn't be normal for them not to call once a month whenever you had a girls night that ended to far, all of you too drunk and end up do something stupid.

"on the way." remus just sighed into the phone, calling out for james and sirius, who were already waiting in the garage.

coming into the station, they could already hear the two of you giggling.

seeing the familar yellow M in the corner, sirius just looked over at the office who nodded, confirming his thoughts.

"jamie!" you smiled, running into the arms of your husband, james catching you easily, while giving lily a smile.

"really?" sirius looked at the two of you, remus already occupied getting the two of you out, "a mcdonald's sign, how did you even get it down."

the two of you just looked at each other before laughing. the three men just sighed, standing behind the two of you as the two of you had your arms wrapped around each other, stumbling out of the station.

#fi's baby blurbs #poly!marauders x reader #poly!marauders x fem!reader #poly!marauders x wife!reader #james potter x reader #remus lupin x reader #sirius black x reader #mafia!marauders #poly!mafia!marauders

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ddejavvu · 1 year

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maybe mafia!marauders who trick bimbo!reader into stripping every time during strip poker even when they lose

today is multiverse monday! send me any au you can think of :)

this post is 18+, minors dni.

You're too preoccupied with reapplying your lip gloss between rounds that you don't notice Remus stuffing cards into his sleeve. James is hand-feeding you chex mix, hovering his hand over your mouth and dropping pretzels and peanuts and crackers into your mouth as messily as possible, so that your lips pucker around his fingers and your tongue lavs over his skin to get the cheese dust off. In doing so, all of your gloss is shiny on his skin, and you have to layer on a new coat.

"Alright, sweetheart," Sirius checks to be sure Remus has the cards he needs, "How are you feeling this round?"

You peer at your cards, and a frown slips over your features. You've never been good at poker faces.

"Um," You deliberate, glancing up at the pot, 'I'll... raise."

"Two layers?" Sirius raises an eyebrow, "You sure, angel?"

"Mhm," You nod, confident that you've thrown them off for now, "Two layers."

When you reveal your cards, Remus wins. You swear he's magic or something, he always seems to have perfect hands. Your shoulders slump as you reach for your jacket's zipper, "Do I have to? It'll be cold."

"You raised," James chides, watching with rapt attention as you peel away your jacket and begin unbuttoning your shirt, "Don't start something you can't finish, love."

#poly!marauders #poly!marauders x reader #poly!marauders fanfiction #poly!marauders oneshot #poly!marauders imagine #poly!marauders fluff #poly!marauders smut #poly!marauders drabble #poly!marauders dialogue #poly!marauders blurb #james potter x reader #sirius black x reader #remus lupin x reader #ddejavvu's multiverse mondays #multiverse mondays #poly!marauders au #poly!mafia!marauders #bimbo!reader

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360iris · 1 year

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with a feeling (poly!prongsfoot x reader | mafia au)

“You’ve missed me, baby?” James asks with a bright smile, both hands firmly gripping the steering wheel as he speaks to you through the car console.

“More than anything, Jamie.” You answer back immediately, and though he’s focusing primarily on the road, he can see from a quick glance at the screen how you’re currently sprawled out on your stomach in bed. Your soft cheek resting against the backs of your hands, cutely pouting at the camera as you mentally urge your boyfriends to return home as quickly and safely as possible.

“What about Sirius, hun?” James asks with a cheeky grin, sparing a glance towards the man currently riding in the passenger’s seat, knowing full well the response he’s going to get.

“What about him?” You ask in a considerably different tone, your voice bordering indifferent as you turn your attention to your nails. Acting as though those shimmering, opaque gel polished digits were significantly more interesting in comparison to the new topic of discussion.

That’s all it was in the end however- a long-standing game of pretend that existed between Sirius and yourself since the day the two of you laid eyes on one another. A teasing charade which masked caring carasses as tugging fistfuls of hair, and transforming fleeting kisses into prominent bites and bright red hickeys.

From an outsider’s perspective, the two of you were united on some semblance of a common ground- appearing intimidating, judgemental but breathtakingly beautiful in each other’s silent company.

And to friends, you behaved quite differently. A bickering, arguing duo who could rarely get through a single conversation without it coming to empty insults.

But to James, he alone got to see you as you truly were- learning your past and how you met Sirius before you’d known the faces, or names of any of the other Marauders. A particularly peculiar, but intimate love story in its own right.

“Did you miss him?” He answers, deciding to humor your game as he did more often than not.

“I suppose I noticed it was significantly quieter than usual, without a particular loudmouth running around in the house.” James chuckles at your response as Sirius huffs indignantly, glaring icily at the screen before an idea comes to mind and he’s suddenly wearing a faint mischievous smirk.

“That’s very funny, kitten.” Sirius responds, slipping a strand of hair behind his ear as he leans back against the leather seat. “You know I’ve been meaning to ask if you enjoyed your three weeks of solitude. But then, I remembered that you were left with nothing to fuck but a few silicone cocks and those tiny fingers of yours. And I can’t imagine that anyone would’ve been able to make the most of that situation. Can’t say I had any trouble like that however.” He finishes, and you know he’s referring to having James to fuck when the need or interest inevitably arose.

Sinking your teeth into your bottom lip, you don’t bother to answer because he’s right, and you hate it. Choosing to silently glower into the camera as he stared back smugly.

“Is that true, sweetheart?” James chimes in, a bit of pity apparent in his tone as he mulls over the mental image of you laying prettily on your back. Attempting and failing to replicate even an eighth of the pleasure and fervor you’d grown accustomed to receiving during sex. “You weren’t able to come as hard as you’d like, baby?”

If that sentence had come from Sirius, you would have thrown the darkest glare you could’ve physically managed. Would’ve probably flipped him off and ignored anything he’d said for the remainder of the call. But it’d come from sweet James, who you knew felt genuine sympathy at the thought of you experiencing even as minor an inconvenience as that during, and due to, his absence.

“No, I wasn’t able to.” You answer quietly, pointedly not looking in Sirius’ direction.

“We’ll make up for that, honey. I promise.”

This scenario now has a blurb series based on it! Pt. I, Pt. II

#the marauders #hp #harry potter #sirius black #sirius black x reader #marauders era #poly marauders #prongsfoot #james potter x sirius black #james potter x reader #james potter fluff #hp blurb #harry potter blurb #hp fanfic #mafia!marauders #mafia au

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mymiraclealigner · 1 year

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I only write for older Remus Lupin. [*] indicates smut

If you didn't know me like you do*

Remus and his ex-student have gotten really close during the Christmas Break

Pointless Jealousy

A guy is flirting with you and Remus has to do something about it.

Teatime

Y/n struggles to take her tea.

Let the rain in*

reader is worried that the window is open.

Femme Fatale*

Remus is crazy about his student; but she likes playing too much.

No crumbs left*

Remus and Y/n spend New Year's at home.

Conversation deviated

Remus invites you to his office to discuss the new reading club, but the conversation deviates.

The third night*

Remus is infatuated with his flirty student and he can't help acting on his feelings.

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morwap · 2 years

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𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐓𝐎𝐁𝐄𝐑—𝐃𝐀𝐘 𝟔

mafia!sirius and remus, maid!reader, could be read as a little special blurb for my mafia!sirius fic. anal and p in v, praise, dom!sirius and remus, sub!reader,

Your uniform was long gone, practically torn off you once the three of you got started. Your stockings had ladders running up them. Sirius’ breath tickled your neck as was holding your waist, Remus' hands on your thighs as he thrust up into cunt while Sirius was thrust into your ass, both of them filling you up so much it was almost too much but you couldn't help but beg for more.

Your hands planted on Remus’ chest as you could barely hold yourself up.

“Aint she just the best girl” Sirius praised, he eyed Remus and watched him smile. His and Remus’ relationship was complicated but it was a relationship nonetheless and you were a part of it, going from a person that worked for Sirius to a partner in their relationship.

“Absolutely, Been so good for us lately while we're busy” Remus cooed, one hand leaving your thigh and going up your torso to your boobs. You mewled and your head went back onto Sirius’ shoulder. Your eyes squeezed shut and your mouth opened. Sirius’ skin was so hot against yours and you could barely focus, every thrust from Remus would hit a sweet spot and stimulate your clit over and over.

Your thighs trembled and you clenched around both of them. “Whos our good girl” Sirius cooed in your ear.

“I am” you whimpered. The sensation of both of them being in you was almost too hard to handle but it felt so good.

“Wow look at that she can still comprehend” Remus quipped, making Sirius laugh.

“Barely, just a bit more then she’ll be fucked dumb” Sirius replied.

tag @bunnyweasley23

#morwaps—𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐓𝐎𝐁𝐄𝐑 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟐 #kinktober 2022 #kinktober #sirius black smut #poly!wolfstar x reader #poly!mafia!wolfstar #poly!wolfstar smut #remus lupin smut #mafia!sirius black x reader #mafia!remus lupin x reader #marauder era #marauders #marauders x reader #the marauders #marauders smut #poly!wolfstar x reader smut #sub!reader

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velvetcloxds · 3 months

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~little bird series masterlist

characters: mafia!sirius black, princess potter!reader, prince!james potter, prince!remus lupin, bodyguard!lily evans, secret agent!regulus (unrelated to sirius in this au), mercenary!peter pettigrew

series warnings: possible blood and violence, non-canon characters and places, no magic, time lapses between parts, non-conventional viewing of monarchy and other social systems, mafia characters, dirty business, love triangle, allusion to the prequel I have in the works as well

series summary: the second generation of royal potters and lupins have to face the new reign alongside a resurrected mafia force, mercenaries creeping out of the past, constant threats to not only the crown but their lives and the princess' search for peace at all costs lands her in the middle of an epic love triangle between a dangerous mafia boss and a prince who has cast himself away from his throne.

chapter one- when your parents go missing and hoards of people are trying to get into the palace to hurt you and your brother, you have no choice but to go and get help from the last person your parents would have you be associated with

chapter two- regulus confronts you about going to see sirius alone, your parents being home forces you to lie about how you solved the crisis in their absence and even amid damage control you're still thinking about sirius, seems he's thinking about you too

chapter three- james has to speak at the post-crisis press conference which forces you to come face to face with other royals, one of whom you hadn't seen since he broke your heart as a teenager, an unexpected visitor at the conference sends everyone running in terror and makes you realize just how dangerous of a world your mother has left for you to inherit (coming soon…)

#princess!reader #potter!reader #prince!james potter #mafia!sirius black #secret agent!regulus #prince!remus lupin #bodyguard!lily evans #mercenary!peter pettigrew #marauders au #marauders fanfic #marauders fanfiction #marauders fic #sirius black x reader #remus lupin x reader #regulus black x reader #royal!marauders #royal au #mafia au

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remusslove · 11 months

Note

Please i mean PLEASE make mafia poly marauders x reader who is a badass

“Can I try?” Your question made the three pair of eyes directed to the archery range land on you. The three boys looked at you slightly shocked and impressed. “You sure honey? Might be a bit too hard since their all far” Sirius said with an amused grin.

You nodded walking over to them and getting James’s bow, the boy who decided to take a break to smoke a cigarette. “Take your time love” Remus whispered in you ear placing a kiss inches near.

With a quick inhale you fired the arrow into the air. Seconds later it landed on the board. Perfectly. Right in the middle. Not on the bottom or the top, not in the left or on the right, the middle. The perfect first time.

The action did not get unnoticed by the boys. Remus muttering a quick “holy shit” and James and Sirius exchanging a shocked face. “Didnt know you could do that love, fucking impressive” Sirius broke the silence. You giggled grinning at the black haired boy.

“Gotta be more careful around you now, might shoot us in the eye when we get you mad.” James said in all seriousness.

#mafia!marauders x reader #mafia!marauders #mafia marauders #poly!marauders x reader #poly!marauders x you #poly!marauders #poly marauders

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prettybabybaby · 1 year

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mafia!poly!marauders or any of them takes reader to kill someone who’s in debt with them. they let reader pull the trigger and blood splatters all over her. and they’re just.. TURNED ON they fuck her then and there

¡ 18+ only ! ¡ minors do not interact !

content: mafia!poly!marauders, fem!reader, blood

¡ marauders masterlist !

james and sirius hold the guy up as remus keeps your shaky hand still, cooing in your ear as he puts his finger on yours and pulls the trigger.

you start sobbing when the noise of the gunshot fills the air and your body’s pushed back by the impact. blood lands in your mouth, the thick, metallic liquid pooling on your tongue as you refuse to swallow. james and sirius let him fall to the floor as they shake off their hands and sirius runs a hand through his silky hair, eyes trailing down your blood splattered body. remus takes the gun from you before you can drop it, shoving it into his waistband as he kisses you, forcing you to swallow the mixture of your bloody spit and his.

you bury your head into james’ chest as he approaches you and hugs you, praising you as sirius settles behind you, pushing your hair to the side so he can kiss your neck, lapping at the blood drying there. james’ hands join sirius’ in roaming your body as he tilts his head to kiss you, rough fingers tickling your waist as he lifts your shirt.

“y’did so well, baby,” remus murmurs beside you, “want us to show you how well?”

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i-need-of-a-hobby · 4 months

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if i were to write a jegulus and wolfstar fic based loosely on the 1920s new york mafia, would anyone read that or am i crazy?

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bettercallwillow · 2 years

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pairing: poly!mafia!marauders x reader

summary: remus is owed a debt, and when they don't pay, he decides to take their daughter instead. very much inspired by behave by @saintlike78 go check them out!!

warnings: dubcon (the series in general), foursome, mafia!au, daddy kink, dom!remus, dom!sirius, dom!james, oral (f + m recieving), fingering, spitroasting, penetration, rough sex, degrading (whore, slut, etc.), petnames (bunny, dove, etc,)

word count: 1.4k

part one, part two

"Hey, bunny," Remus smiled at you when you wandered into his office. He didn't mind you being in his office, only really restricting access when he had a meeting.

"Hi, daddy," you chirped back. You looked around the room, only just noticing James and Sirius sat in the two armchairs in front of Remus' desk, "Hiya," you flashed them both a toothy grin.

"Come here," Remus spoke, patting his knee. You didn't need to be told twice, pattering over to him and climbing onto his lap. You made yourself comfortable, shuffling your hips slightly.

Remus tensed under you, a small smirk creeping it's way onto his lips. "Naughty girl," he muttered when he leant over to ash his cigarette, "You do this on purpose, don't you?"

You didn't answer him, only letting out a small giggle and turning your head to rest on his chest. "You know," he whispered to you, "I'm starting to think you like it when people are watching,"

You flushed red, hands coming to play with the buttons on Remus' dress shirt, "Maybe I do," you confessed, biting your lip and batting your eyes at him. He tutted, leaning down to place a small kiss on your forehead.

"Well, it's your lucky day, bunny," he spoke normal now, "Me, Pads and Prongs have had a little chat and we all agree how fucking amazing it would be to pass you around like a common whore,"

A small gasp left your lips and you squoze your thighs together, a dull throbbing sensation beginning in your core. Sirius chuckled, "Look at her thighs press together, fuck, you can tell she really fucking wants it,"

"What do you say, dove?" James asked you, knocking back the whiskey he was nursing. You nodded, your cheeks burning as slick built up in your lacy underwear.

Remus took your chin in his hand, tilting your head so you were looking at him, "Need words, bunny, you know this,"

"Y-yes,"

"Yes, what?"

"Yes, daddy," you whined, moving your hips in small circles, "Want you all to fuck me,"

Sirius let out a groan, moving his hand down to palm at his growing erection, "She's such a little slut, isn't she?" he smirked at Remus, who chuckled in response.

"She sure is," the man replied before grabbing your hips, lifting you off his lap and putting you down on the desk in front of him. You quietly moaned at the way he manhandled you and spread your legs, the action almost like a reflex at this point.

James stood up from his chair, circling the desk before coming to a halt when he was stood next to Remus. The lycanthrope gave him a slight nod and James grinned, kneeling down so he was eye-level with your clothed cunt.

"Gods, she's soaked," he groaned, his hands working on flipping up your skirt so he had a better view, "Definitely ruined those expensive panties you bought her,"

"Please," you breathed, lifting your hips so James could pull down your underwear, "Want you so bad, Prongs,"

"That's no way to ask somebody something, is it bunny?" Remus tutted, putting his hand on the back of your neck before pushing forward slightly, "You gonna ask Prongs properly?"

"Please, Prongs- please eat me out," you whimpered, embrassment clouding you from speaking so vulgar. Remus shot you a wink before planting a kiss below your ear, "Good girl,"

Slowly, James leant forward, burying his head between your thighs before licking a line up your slit. You bucked your hips up at the sensation, making Sirius chuckle.

"Desperate, aren't you?" he smirked, getting up from his own seat to stand behind you. You hummed, leaning your head back to rest on Sirius' chest as James started to lick circles on your clit.

"Gods," you moaned, shifting your head so Remus had better access to your neck. He kissed it sloppily, pausing every now and then to suck dark marks onto your skin.

A gasp left your mouth when James circled two fingers at your enterance, dipping in the tips to tease you. Suddenly, he pushed them in to the knuckle, pulling a whorish moan from your throat.

He kept a steady rhythm, his tongue feasting on your clit greedily whilst his fingers curled inside you, hitting that sweet spot every time. "Gods, Moony, got yourself a good one here," he groaned into your cunt.

"M'close," you panted, pushing your hips back in rhythm with James' movements. The man chuckled, speeding up his pace to one that had you almost screaming in pleasure.

"Go on, pup," Sirius leant over to whisper in your ear, "Cum all over Prongs' face like the dirty slut you are,"

Remus pulled off your sweater, leaving you in just your bra and a skirt, giving him access to leave hickeys on your collarbone and shoulder, "Look at her," Sirius spoke, his hands working on unhooking your bra, "Practically grinding on Prongs' face,"

With one last curl of James' finger, you cried out, dopemein washing over you as you came. "Good girl," Remus cooed, moving his lips down to kiss and lick at your now exposed nipples.

James lapped up your juices, humming into your core before pulling his face and hands away, "Gods, dove, you taste so fucking good,"

"T-thank you, Prongs," you breathed, your voice shaky from your recent orgasm. Before you even had time to come back around, James stood, flipping you around so you were now bent over Remus' desk.

"I wanna be the one fucking her," Remus spoke, taking James' place behind you before unbuckling his belt. "You gonna suck me off nice and good whilst Moons wrecks your silly cunt?" Sirius asked you, his slacks already pushed down to his mid-thigh and his cock hard against his dress shirt.

You nodded, wiggling your hips and opening your mouth ready for Sirius. At the same time, the pair pushed into you, Sirius' length hitting the back of your throat as Remus' hit your cervix. You moaned around the animagus, making him groan and wrap his hand in your hair, "Fuck, pup,"

It wasn't long before Remus set a punishing pace, pushing you forward onto Sirius' cock in rhythm with his thrusts, "Still so fucking tight," Remus grunted, his hands kneading at your hips, "No matter how many times I fucking stretch you out,"

You closed your eyes, letting the tears that whelled up in your waterline fall down your cheeks. "So pretty when you cry," James muttered, fisting at his own cock. You hummed at the compliment, the vibrations making Sirius buck his hips up into your mouth.

You swallowed around his cock and he took control, his hand wrapped in your hair holding your head steady while he thrusted into your mouth roughly, "Moons, this mouth is fucking heavenly," he moaned, leaning his head back slightly.

"You gotta try this cunt next," Remus smirked, moving his hand to circle at your throbbing clit, relieving some of the pressure that was building up.

"M'gonna cum," Sirius spoke, his voice slightly strained, "Paint that slutty little throat white, make sure you taste me for fucking weeks,"

Swallowing around him again, you desperately waited for him to release, wanting nothing more than to taste his load. His cock twitched inside your throat and he came, salty liquid filling your mouth and running down your throat.

After he pulled out, you swallowed, sticking out your tongue to show him. "Fucking slut," he groaned, bending down to kiss you. You kissed back immediately, humming in content when he pushed his tongue into your mouth.

"I'm gonna cum again," you panted when you pulled away from the kiss, your nails scraping the wood below you. Remus increased his attack on your clit, giving you just enough to push you over the edge, "G'won, bunny, cum all over m'cock so you know who you belong to,"

"Daddy," you whined as you came, your vision flashing white as your high washed over you. After a few more sloppy thrusts, Remus pushed into you up to the hilt, a loud groan falling from his lips as he shot his load inside you.

Pating, he pulled out, a smirk on his lips when he saw the white liquid dripping out of you and onto the floor. "Would 'ya look at that," he grinned, looking up at James and Sirius, "Who's next?"

#poly!marauders #poly!marauders smut #poly!wolfstar #hp smut #remus lupin #remus lupin smut #sirius black #sirius black smut #james potter #james potter smut #mafia!remus #mafia!sirius #mafia!james #mafia!au #mafia!marauders #poly!mafia!marauders #marauders #marauders smut

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ellecdc · 2 months

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The Drink Snob (part 4)

mafia au!Remus Lupin x fem!reader - 3k

p1 // p2 // p3 // p4

You stood on the sidewalk staring dumbly at the sign that hung above the door of the restaurant - La Luna – with a list of references under your arm.

You’d thought long and hard about showing up today, and you weren’t sure which part of you was the part that won. Was it the part of you who saw things through? The part of you who had a lovely conversation with a motherly sounding woman on the phone and had promised her you’d be here? Was it the part of you who sort of wanted to see The Man™ again? Or was it the part of you who didn’t like being told what to do?

You supposed it didn’t much matter now which part of you won, seeing as it found you here.

Now you just had to make it inside the restaurant...which should be easy...seeing as you had two functioning legs...so why the hell aren’t they moving?

Maybe this was a bad idea, maybe you shouldn’t have come. Who voluntarily works for a criminal? Or at least for a criminal’s mother. He’s proven to you that he’s nothing but trouble.

What if it was the good kind of trouble? The kind that led to fun banter and teasing remarks. The kind that made life more exciting and adventurous. The kind that made him really fun in bed.

Stop it.

He wasn’t the good kind of trouble. He was a criminal. Just because he stopped one guy from drugging you doesn’t mean he’s any better than him. Just because he spent hours with you at a bar listening to you lament about your life. Just because he took the opportunity to warn you about his mother’s restaurant. Just because he seemed to give a damn about you...

No, that was wishful thinking.

You shouldn’t be here.

Your option to leave was taken from you, however, when a man exciting the restaurant paused to hold the door open for you.

Fuck it.

You thanked the man and squared your shoulders as you entered the restaurant.

It was fairly quiet inside, which you supposed made sense seeing as it didn’t open until 4pm. There were some serving staff behind the bar readying glassware and silverware for the evening, and a few men moving a large piece of furniture covered with a moving blanket to the corner of the restaurant.

“No fucking way. You came!” A voice called. You turned to see the same curly haired man from the restaurant the night that The Man™ saved you from Tan. He was smiling widely at you as if the two of you were old friends that hadn’t seen each other in years.

“Uhm...me?” you asked dumbly. Kill me now.

The man just laughed as he approached you and gave you a bone crushing hug. “Yeah you! You’re The Girl.”

“The girl?” You muttered as you stepped away from the overly affectionate man.

“James, step away from the girl; she doesn’t even know you.” A shorter man with black hair and silver eyes said as he smiled politely at you. “Sorry about him. He’s mostly harmless, just an idiot.”

The man...James...beamed at you as if his friend hadn’t just insulted him.

“I’m James, this is my boyfriend Regulus.” James introduced finally.

“It’s nice to meet you.” You said as you gave him your name in turn.

“Oh, we know.” Another man said as he entered the dining area. He looked startlingly similar to Regulus, though his hair was quite a bit longer and he was littered with tattoos and silver jewelry. He was also accompanied by The Man™.

“Don’t be fucking weird.” The Man™ muttered to his companion.

“Sorry Moons, no can do.” He said salaciously as he waltzed his way over to you extending his hand. “The names Sirius, doll. So glad I finally get to meet you.” He said with a wink.

You choked on a laugh.

“Fucking hell. You’re unbelievable.” You said instead of hello.

“Thank you!” He beamed, puffing his chest not unlike a peacock.

“That wasn’t a compliment...”

James barked a laugh. “Oh Moony, can we keep her?” He said as he wiped a fake tear from under his eye.

“You’re name’s Moony?” You asked incredulously.

The Man’s murderous glare softened as he looked from James to you. “One of them.”

“The sods name is Remus, dollface. Don’t mind him, he’s emotionally constipated.” Sirius interjected.

“Sirius!” Remus chastised from across the room.

“What is goi-oh! You must be Y/N!” A lovely woman exclaimed as she made her way into the dining hall. “I was wondering what had my boys so rowdy.”

You flushed under the insinuation and extended your hand quickly.

“You must be Hope. It’s nice to meet you; I’m terribly sorry if you’ve been waiting on me.”

The woman waved you off and threw a sarcastic glance over her shoulder. “Oh, I’m not fussed. It’s hard to get almost anything done with this lot ‘round. Come, leave the boys to their folly.” She said as she ushered you down the hall.

“Those are your boys?” You asked as the two of you made your way to what looked to be Hope’s office.

“Yes! Well, technically just Remus. But they’re a package deal, those boys.” She said with the fondness only a mother could manage. It made your heart hurt.

“I suppose that’s an important quality...in his line of work.” You offered. You chose to attend the interview regardless, but it was important for you to understand exactly what was expected of you here.

Hope looked at you with a knowing glint in her eye as she sat at her desk, seeming to size you up. “Yes, I suppose so.”

She pulled out some papers and you placed your references in front of you.

“So, what kind of questions do you have for me?” She asked casually.

You felt your eyebrows furrow as you calculated her question; you’d never been asked that at the beginning of an interview before.

“Erm, I... well I guess I’d like to know a little more about what the job entails.”

Hope smiled widely at you – you could see now where Remus got his dimples from.

“Well, we were looking for someone who had a license to serve liquor, perhaps to help with serving and bussing tables. But really what I’m most excited about is your music.”

“My music?” You asked quietly.

“Oh yes.” Hope offered enthusiastically. “I’ve always wanted live music here, but we’ve never had anyone to do that! I must admit, I looked you up after I received your CV – you’re very talented.”

“Oh, god.” You murmured as you felt you face heat in embarrassment. “I’ve really only played with orchestra’s – I’m not sure that’s an example of any talent.”

“Hm, and modest too. Tell me, do you make it a habit of downplaying your worth?”

You felt like you’d been slapped.

“Because you shouldn’t. You ought to be proud; I sure am.” She carried on like she hadn’t just rocked your world. You cleared your throat and tried to fight against the tears clamoring their way to the surface.

“As for...this line of work.” Hope carried on, emphasizing your phrasing regarding Remus’ job. “This is indeed a restaurant. We deal with mostly restaurant matters. Some of our patrons may be...more colourful than average, and we may see the boys come and go from time-to-time, but there’s nothing you’d need to be concerned about.”

You nodded, a little stunned by the speed of this conversation, but feeling like you got the gist.

Restaurant. Shady business behind the scenes. Nothing for you to worry about.

Good enough.

“Look. You’ve worked at bars in some of the largest cities in North America – that tells me you work well under pressure and in a fast-paced environment. You’ve worked with orchestras across the continent as well, which tells me you work well in a team environment. You’re working towards your doctorate which tells me you’re dedicated and hard working. You’re an ideal candidate, Y/N.”

Remus was right – how does one say no to Hope Lupin?

“Do you work well in a team?” She asked plainly.

“Yes.”

“Do you work well under pressure?”

“Sure.”

“How’s your right hook?”

You laughed. “Not bad? I guess...I’ve not had to use it much if I’m being honest.”

Hope shrugged her shoulders. “We can work on that.”

You laughed again before taking a deep breath. “Okay. Alright, well...whatever you need then.”

Hope smiled. “You’ll play for us?”

You grimaced but shifted it to a smile. “There’s no saying no to you, is there?”

Hope beamed. “And you’re a quick learned. Excellent! Come with me.” She called as she stood and marched out of her office.

You followed her obediently back out to the dining hall where James, Remus, Sirius, and Regulus were still loitering – each having taken a seat at a different table. And that large piece of furniture they’d been moving in when you arrived? It was a piano.

It was a Concert A 192 Bechstein grand piano.

It was a brand-new Concert A 192 Bechstein grand piano.

You thought you were going to faint. These pianos were not cheap.

“Think this will work for you? I’m sure we could swap it for something else if needed.” Hope commented as she moved towards the piano.

“You got this...for me?” You murmured. Hope smiled at you but bit it back when she saw the emotion on your face.

“Well, we got it for the restaurant. If you need something else though, we can likely exchange it.”

She was interrupted by a scoff from Sirius. “I am not breaking my back dragging that thing back out of here again, mummykins.”

“You’ll damn well do whatever the hell I tell you too, bubs.” She shot back.

Sirius conceded immediately. “Absolutely. Whatever you want mum.”

“So, are you gonna play us something?” James interjected.

“Now?” You asked apprehensively.

“Well, someone’s gotta test it out.” He shrugged. “They tuned it at the store but said it might shift slightly during the move.”

You hummed in acknowledgement but made no move to sit at the piano. James sighed dramatically and stood from his seat.

“Fine. I’ll do it myself.”

Regulus groaned and brought his hands up to his ears as his boyfriend sat at the piano with a flourish, cracking his knuckles, and began pressing keys at random.

Sirius bobbed his head in encouragement as if what James was currently producing could be considered music. Regulus banged his head against the table with his ears still covered, and Remus shook his head with a grimace.

“Okay, okay! Oh, you poor thing what has he done to you?” You cooed at the piano as you swatted James’ hands away.

“Uhm, I was playing it. Duh.” He muttered as he stood from the bench.

“That was a crime, is what it was. This piano is a work of art – it costs as much as a bungalow in America.” You said as you sat at the bench, staring at the keys in awe.

You’ve played some pretty spectacular instruments throughout your life; the New York Philharmonic certainly provided for their pianist, no holds barred. But those were instruments you had to give back once you finished playing with them. Granted, this belonged to the restaurant, but...it was here for you to play.

“What are you going to play us?” Remus asked quietly.

You turned your head to him, surprised out of your musings, to find him looking at you softly.

“Any requests?” You asked the room.

“James’ knowledge of music that one can play on a piano expands no further than heart and soul, dollface. Don’t ask us.” Sirius smirked as he dodged a swat that James sent his way with an indignant squawk.

“You’re the expert.” Hope encouraged you from the side of the room.

You took a deep breath and turned back to the piano. You felt horribly exposed; no orchestra to hide behind, all eyes on you. Make it count.

You opted for a piece you’ve played an unholy amount of times.

It was your mother’s favourite.

It wasn’t anything particularly difficult or challenging; it was not a technical piece in the slightest. But something about it spoke to you.

It felt like sitting in a sunroom on a rainy day and watching beads of raindrops race down the panes of glass. It felt like the sun peeking out from behind the clouds after days of overcast skies. It felt like a hug from your mom.

Turns out, it sounded even more beautiful on a Bechstein.

The last few notes echoed through the predominantly quiet restaurant as you stared down at the keys.

“What’s that called?” Remus asked quietly.

You looked over at him to find that same soft look on his face.

“It’s called Sorrisi.”

“What language is that?” James asked.

“Italian, I believe.”

“What does it mean?” Sirius interjected.

You smirked before responding. “I believe it translates to I smiled.”

Remus watched as you seemed to shake yourself out of some sort of reverie. The piece was simple, but it was deep. Remus swore he could see years of memories and feelings oozing out of your shoulders as your hands danced across the keys.

And he wasn’t the only one. He could tell his mum was crying – most people wouldn’t have likely noticed, thinking she was just farsighted - but he knew that she only ever removed her glasses from her face if she was tearing up.

And then you had to go and act all bashful like you hadn’t just moved the room to tears with a few simple notes. Like you had no idea how wonderful you were. How beautiful you were.

Remus was fucked.

Here's the song you played for (Remus) the boys and Hope 🥰

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