#sirius black oneshots

[bruisedboys]

yes hi! i kind of have an emergency request if you’d be willing to follow through with it :) i got into an argument and got yelled at a lot about how what i do isn’t good enough, and i started crying haha

so if there’s any way you could do like? sirius walking in on reader kind of maybe sobbing their (she/her if possible but no pressure!!) eyes out about that and maybe some comfort?

thank you for reading this, i appreciate it🙏 and again no pressure!!

hello sweet angel! I’m really very sorry to hear that my lovely :( nobody deserves to be told that, I’m sorry honey and I want you to know I think you’re more than good enough! I tried to make this not too specific so I hope it’s okay! 🤍🤍🤍

sirius black x fem!reader cw for a mean coworker

Sirius walks in the front door and Remus and James swoop on him instantly, both talking loudly and at the same time.

“Sirius—“

“It’s your girlfriend, mate, she’s—“

“In your bedroom, she’s really upset—“

“We didn’t know what to do—“

Sirius drops his bag on the floor and puts his hands up to get them to quit talking. “Woah, what? Y/N’s here?”

Remus backs off, James doesn’t. He’s got a lot of worry in his big brown eyes. Sirius feels a rush of gratitude for his lovely friend that he won’t ever admit to.

“Yeah, man,” James nods exuberantly. “She’s super sad. We tried to help but she only wants you. She’s in your bedroom.”

Sirius’ heart gives a painful twang. He thanks his friends hastily and shucks off his shoes, jogging down the hall to his bedroom. The door’s closed, but he thinks he can hear you crying.

He opens the door and finds you perched on the end of his bed, your knees pulled to your chest. You’re full on sobbing, face buried in your knees, hands pressed to your eyes harshly. You’re making this awful, awful hicupping sound that makes Sirius feel a bit sick.

“Darling,” he says. He shuts the door behind him then surges towards you. He stays close but doesn’t touch you in case you don’t want it. “Baby. It’s me, I’m here.”

You look up. Your eyes are red and wet and it’s maybe the saddest thing Sirius has ever seen. He tries not to cry himself.

“Siri,” you choke out wetly. You unfold yourself and hold your arms out to him, hands grabbing at his hips. You pull at him and he goes happily, stepping in between your legs, arms curling around your shaking form.

You press your face into his abdomen and cling to him, hands bunched in the back of his shirt. You and him stay like that for a long, heavy moment. It’s only when you’ve stopped shaking that Sirius feels he can breathe. He presses you to his chest protectively.

“Baby,” he says. “Are you hurt? What’s going on, hm?”

He’d wait to ask you til you’ve properly calmed down, but something about the way you’re crying makes him feel like the problem begs to be addressed. He knows it’s not the best approach, but maybe you’ll be more willing to talk about it now, anyway, when the upset is so fresh.

“M’sorry,” you say thickly, into the front of his shirt. Don’t be sorry, silly, Sirius wants to say. “I just— I got into an argument at work.”

Sirius heart feels heavy as lead. He feels torn in two. Half of him doesn’t want to examine any further, doesn’t want to hear what horrible things must’ve been said to you to make you cry this way. The other half of him needs to know so he can find whoever did it and give them a good hard punch.

“Aw, honey.” He pulls back ever so slightly. You don’t let him get very far, hands tight where they grip his waist as if you’re worried he’ll leave. He stays very close but takes your face in his hands. He swipes at your hot tears with the backs of his hands. More come, and he wipes those too. “I’m really sorry. What happened?”

Your lip wobbles. It breaks Sirius’ heart clean in two. “It was over something so silly,” you whisper shakily. “But he got so mad, and started saying such awful things. I started crying and even when it was over I couldn’t stop.”

You squeeze your eyes shut and fresh tears spill from the corners and onto Sirius’ fingers. He wants to take all the sadness from you, all the hurt, cause he’d rather he feel it a hundred times over than you have to feel it once. You blink up at him, eyelashes wet and clinging to one another.

Sirius strokes your cheek. He doesn’t know what to say. He’s sorry? He’ll murder the guy if you want him to? He watches as you exhale a long breath through your mouth, eyelids fluttering as you lean into his hand. He knows you feel safe with him, you’ve told him so, but this particular action in itself confirms it for him.

“Honey,” he says, dripping with emotion that he’d never dare show with anyone but you. “I’m really sorry.” He drags a hand down your cheek, stops at your jaw and holds you there. “I’m really really sorry that happened to you.”

You shake your head, sniffling. “It’s okay, Siri. It’s not— maybe I’m being dramatic.”

“You’re not,” Sirius says firmly. “You’re definitely not. What did he say to you, sweet thing?”

“I—“ You stop, and Sirius knows you probably don’t want to tell him because you’re the kind of person who won’t burden someone else for your gain. It’s part of the reason he’s so angry for you. “He just said some mean things.”

Sirius shouldn’t, but he presses. “Like what?”

You’re already warm but you go warmer under Sirius’ hold. “He— well, he told me what I was doing wasn’t good enough. That I wasn’t trying hard enough,” you admit, shame faced. “It was awful, but I don’t know, he was really mad, so you know. He was kind of just saying anything.”

A sort of white hot anger builds in Sirius’ chest, thick and burning, lava hot. It climbs to his throat and strains his voice. “That doesn’t matter.” He sounds angrier than he wants to. But it’s you, and he’s gonna be fiercely protective over you for the rest of his life, he thinks. “He shouldn’t have said that to you.”

You blink at your lap. “Yeah.”

Sirius sighs. He can tell you don’t really want to talk about it. He wouldn’t, either. He takes a big breath, let’s the anger melt away, at least for now. He takes your hands in his and feels your soft skin, the steady pulse at your wrist. The bubbling anger in his chest ebbs.

“It’s not true,” he tells you softly. “It’s not. Of course what you do is good enough.”

You look up at him, an expression on your face that reminds Sirius of a puppy. You’re not crying anymore, thankfully, though he’d let you if you had to.

“I know,” you say quietly.

“Good.” Sirius bends at the waist to wrap you in a strong hug, pleased when you hug back just as hard. “That’s good. You’re incredible, you know? And I love you so much, baby.”

You heave a shuddering breath and Sirius shivers as your fingers dance up his spine and down again. “I know you do, Siri. I love you, too.”

Sirius pulls back and chucks you under than chin. “You’ll tell me who it was, won’t you?” He asks lowly. “I won’t do anything if you don’t want me to, but I’d like to know. I’m sure Remus and James would to, they were really worried about you, doll.”

You smile, pretty as ever though you’ve been crying so much. “Yeah, I’ll tell you.”

#★ mal writes! #sirius black #sirius black x reader #sirius black x you #sirius black x y/n #sirius black x fem!reader #sirius black drabble #sirius black drabbles #sirius black imagines #sirius black imagine #sirius black blurbs #sirius black blurb #sirius black oneshot #sirius black one shot #sirius black oneshots #sirius black fic #sirius black fanfic #sirius black fanfiction #sirius black fluff #sirius black x reader fluff #sirius black x female reader #marauders #marauders x you #marauders x reader #marauders x y/n #marauders fic #marauders fanfic #marauders fanfiction

[dreamingofmarauders]

I have about nine drafts, mostly Sirius oneshots, either entirely blank or full words but I can't seem to finish them even though I really want to wrap them up *cries*

#writer things #sirius black oneshots #drafts #writing #dreamingofmarauders #marauders era #sirius black #sometimes its hard #wish i wasn't doing the actual writing but still could get my ideas into a story #cries #lol #haha

[mymoony444]

regulus: what the fuck james!

james: watch your language

regulus: oh my bad good sir, whom the sexual intercourse

*sirius listening proudly*

#james x regulus #regulus black #marauders #harry potter #jegulus #sirius black #oneshot

[moonstruckme]

James being a big bear of a boyfriend and always just like lifting u up so easily to hug and sit on his lap and even tho u hate when anyone else does it he’s so BEEFY that you’re fine with him doing it

Yessssss I'm not much of a physical touch person irl but James I would allow

poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 847 words

Sirius is trying to follow Remus’ example and focus on the puzzle, but his eyes keep flitting up to you worriedly. You’ve monopolized the couch, laying flat with a hand cast over your eyes and your mouth pinched in obvious discomfort. He’d tried rubbing your calf and Remus had offered you tea, but they’d both given up when the attention only seemed to worsen your mood. Remus suggested they work on the puzzle while you rest (not Sirius’ favorite activity, but forced upon him because it keeps him quiet) and now they’re both simply trying not incur your wrath. 

“Quit looking at me,” you growl without opening your eyes. 

In Sirius’ case, not doing a very good job. 

“Fine, sheesh,” he says, and you press your lips together like you’re restraining yourself from snapping at him. 

You cringe when the door opens, every line of you pulling taut. James is all smiles as he tosses his gym bag to the floor with a heavy thump. “Hello, my loves!” His voice is a decibel short of booming, but it softens when he sees you on the couch. “Oh, sorry, is she napping?” 

Remus shakes his head, lips pursed as he watches your hand tighten over your eyes. “Headache,” he explains quietly. 

“Oh, I’m sorry lovie.” James reroutes from the kitchen, heading for you. Sirius tenses. “How bad is it?” 

“Prongs,” Sirius whispers urgently, “don’t—”

But James has already lifted you, one hand under your knees and another supporting your back as he moves you smoothly from your chosen position of rest and into his lap. He makes it look like nothing, which is the first offense (Sirius isn’t sure which of you he’s more jealous of), but the second is that you let him. Sirius and Remus have both looked up in alarm, waiting for a biting protest that doesn’t come. Instead, you remove your hand from your face, burying in it James’ brawny shoulder instead. 

“Bad,” you grumble, but your tone lacks the venom you’d spat at Sirius a moment before. 

James coos like he’s got a kitten in his lap instead of a viper, bringing his considerable arms around you. His palm cups the back of your neck, kneading gently at the tensed muscles there. “Where does it hurt, darling?” 

“Everywhere.” 

“By your eyes?” 

“No.” 

He hums, brows furrowing as he works steadily at your neck. You’ve gone nearly lax in his arms, trusting him to hold you up as you slump against his front. “Have you been drinking water?” 

“It’s not that.” Some of the irritation is back in your tone, Sirius notices, but it’s been markedly softened for James. “I had tons of water this morning.” 

“Probably a tension headache then, yeah?” He looks to Remus, who nods. The quiet boy looks as dumbstruck as Sirius feels. 

James moves his grip to your sides and lifts you again, rearranging his legs to get more comfortable before placing you back in his lap. He places a hand on each side of your head, thumbs pushing into your temples and rubbing in slow, soothing circles. You begin to look like you might fall asleep.

“This is so unfair,” Sirius hisses to Remus. 

“He has a power,” Remus admits weakly, “which transcends understanding.” 

“Do you want some tea?” James murmurs to you after a while. Sirius’ eyes have gotten stuck watching the movement of his forearms, and he snaps them reluctantly back up. 

You hum, uncertain but definitely considering it. Behind you, Remus throws up his hands. James sees him and smiles, shoulders shaking with quiet laughter. 

“I’m getting the sense this isn’t the first cup you’ve been offered,” he says, looking immensely entertained. 

You sigh, but even that sounds pleasurable as his big thumbs drill diligently into your temples. “Yeah, but I just wanted to be left alone.” 

Remus and Sirius exchange a look. You seem perfectly fine with company now. 

“Don’t be silly,” James chides lightly, “a warm drink will make you feel better. Remus, love, would you be so kind as to make her a cup?” 

“Sure.” His voice is gruff, but then you murmur a quiet thanks, Rem and Sirius actually sees the moment his heart turns to mush. “No problem,” he says, softer now. 

“Attagirl.” James’ hand drops to give your shoulder a squeeze, his bicep flexing slightly with the movement. Christ, Sirius might have to fake a headache later, if this is the sort of treatment those receive. “Drink your tea and then we’ll get you to bed, yeah? You can sleep the rest of this off.” 

“You know, I offered to carry her to bed earlier,” Sirius says, still slightly bitter, “and she told me very clearly to fuck off.” 

You don’t sound so much exasperated now as exhausted. “Siri, when you carrying me doesn’t involve setting me down every five steps for a break, then we’ll talk.” 

James’ laugh surprises both of you, and he apologizes hastily for jostling you, pressing a quick kiss to your forehead before resuming his ministrations. You don’t seem all that upset about it.

#poly!marauders #poly!marauders x reader #poly!marauders x fem!reader #poly!marauders x you #poly!marauders x y/n #poly!marauders x self insert #poly!marauders fanfiction #poly!marauders fanfic #poly!marauders fic #poly!marauders fluff #poly!marauders imagine #poly!marauders drabble #poly!marauders scenario #poly!marauders one shot #poly!marauders oneshot #james potter #sirius black #remus lupin #james potter x reader #sirius black x reader #remus lupin x reader #the marauders #marauders #marauders fanfiction #marauders fandom #hp marauders

[ddejavvu]

Hi, i hope youre doing well ☺️

Could i request another part to animagus cat reader where reader cuddles with Remus during winter instead of Sirius because its cold and he runs warmer?? Like he'll be in the common room reading in an arm chair while reader catnaps on his lap while being pet and Sirius tells him to stop stealing his gf and James is jealous/whiny that he doesnt get to have cat snuggles.

part 1 / part 2

--

Despite the two blankets layered in an inviting nest on Sirius's lap, Remus is the warmest person in the room. The fire crackes on its logs, offering scorching heat, but what you seek is gentle warmth, and you've found it between Remus's sweater and his undershirt. You're splayed over his chest much like a baby would be, your paws stretched out against his shoulders and your head pressed face-first into his chest. His sweater is tight enough that it holds you in place, and you don't have to worry about falling. It means that you're able to fully relax, and Sirius can hear your rampant purring from where he sits on the couch with a sour scowl on his face.

"If you just wore warmer clothes, you wouldn't be pissy right now," Remus muses, not bothering to grace the man with a glance away from his novel, "She only likes me 'cause my sweater is warm."

That's not entirely true. While Remus does tend to dress for comfort, and Sirius for style, Remus runs naturally hotter than your boyfriend. You don't have the heart to tell him that, though, so you mewl in agreement to Remus's statement.

"Sweaters are dumb," Sirius spits, and no one bothers to mention that he has a small collection of them for the snowy days on the grounds, "I look better in leather."

"Your loss," Remus shrugs, and to add insult to injury, reaches up to scratch a spot behind your ears that only makes your purring louder.

"This is bullshit," Sirius finally huffs, breaking his facade of gloomy indifference, "Prongs, get over here."

James, all too eager to help out his friend and soak up affection to boot, has no problem tipping over sideways to lay in Sirius's lap.

But the man lifts James's head out of his lap by his curls, "No, no, no, not James. Prongs."

"You want me to-?" James asks, but doesn't dare finish, because the prospect of transforming right in the common room sends a shiver of mischief down his spine that he'd be a fool to question, "On it."

"Yeah. Yeah, yeah," Sirius nods, sneering haughtily at Remus, "You're not the only one that's good for a cuddle, Moony. Look at this," He gushes, as James begins his transformation, skin giving way to tight, short fur and enormous antlers that nearly grate against the stone walls around you.

"Oh, he's a perfect fit." Remus nods resignedly, content to continue rubbing at your ears rather than chastise his friends for trying to fit a stag on a loveseat, "Yeah, that'll work nicely- ooh, careful Sirius, almost got stabbed there."

Sirius dodges a prong off of James's antlers, taking them in his hands and holding James's head steady as the oversized buck folds his knobbly knees into Sirius's lap. The back two can't make it, but James fits them clumsily onto the cushion, maintaining his balance out of dramatic willpower rather than the laws of physics.

You decide once they settle that they're no longer in need of your attention, so you turn your head back towards Remus and burrow your face back into his warm chest. You feel it shake with mirth beneath you, presumably at an overdramatized reaction from the two boys opposite you, but you can't bring yourself to care; sleep is at the forefront of your brain in this form.

"Yeah, get real cozy!" Sirius insists, calling so that you can hear him through Remus's thick sweater and beneath the weight of his hand on your ears, "Whatever! We're cozy over here, too, 'never been more comfortable- ah! Prongs, watch the hooves!"

#sirius black x reader #sirius black imagine #sirius black scenario #sirius black oneshot #sirius black one-shot #sirius black one shot #sirius black headcanon #sirius black headcanons #sirius black hc #sirius black hcs #sirius black fanfiction #sirius black fanfic #sirius black fic #sirius black blurb #sirius black drabble #sirius black dialogue #sirius black fluff #sirius black x reader fanfiction

[northlt]

Amortentia (Jegulus)

Regulus didn’t smell. It drove James insane sometimes. 

He didn’t smell after quidditch practice, or even after just waking up. It was another one of those things about him that made him seem “perfect”. James hated it. 

Regulus was so much more than the image he presented himself to be, but he’d gotten too lost in playing the part, maybe that’s all he’d become. 

Every single “imperfection” had been driven away by his mother. Not just for Regulus, but for Sirius as well. The Black family had an image to maintain, high society they had to live in. They couldn’t accept body odor, crooked teeth, or any blemishes on their skin. 

James didn’t know how they did it. But none of the Blacks had any negative body odor. No matter how much they sweat. 

It’s not to say they don’t have a particular smell. According to Slughorn, everyone had a distinct smell, something unique about them. 

Sirius smelled like wet dog fur, James knew this because he slept in the bed next to him and every night Sirius turned to padfoot in his sleep. 

Narcissa smelled like spring, like her namesake— narcissus. Strangely intense, yet cool and floral. James had only placed the smell last year when they had grown the flower in herbology. 

Walburga black smelled like roses, James imagined that’s what the queen of hearts from Alice in Wonderland smelled like. It was suffocating if you had the displeasure to be near her, like a thousand thorny plants squeezing your windpipe. 

James wasn’t padfoot, he didn’t memorize smells. But it’s hard not to notice how his closest friends smell. It made him feel warm, to be surrounded by so many people he loves, all with a distinct smell. 

Remus smelled like chocolate, like wet fur, wooly sweaters, a warm fire and old books. James could tell that’s what Sirius was smelling in his cauldron right then. That’s the reason he was thinking so much about smells in the first place. 

Sixth year brought with it responsibilities, but also more advanced potion making. James always wondered why he didn’t drop potions when he had the chance. 

Sirius was blushing so hard, his skin tone matched the pink potion. James had to stifle his own laughter as Remus tried to go over the recipe once again to make sure they had made it correct. They were all paired up for this particular class. Sirius and Remus at one cauldron and James and Peter next to them. It used to be Sirius and James together, but after one too many pranks in the classroom, Professor Slughorn had separated them. 

“Clockwise!” Remus corrected Sirius just before he could have ruined their potion. They were the second ones to finish their potion so Slughorn was already making his way towards the boys. “Bloody hell, Sirius. Stop overmixing it”

James exchanged a look with Peter. Why had he let Sirius pick Remus while pairing up again? Oh that’s right— Wingman duties

James was nowhere near as great as Lily or Remus or even Snivellus in potion making, but he managed. Mostly he used Remus’ notes and applied common sense. It drove Remus insane sometimes, how much work he’d have to put in to memorize something, only for James to make an educated guess about it. James couldn’t really explain how he knew stuff, he just did. Call it pattern awareness, or whatever. 

“So from the way Moony was yelling at Padfoot, I’m guessing we have to stir it clockwise?” James raised an eyebrow.

Peter only snickered as he watched their other two friends bickering like an old married couple. “What’d you think Moony smells, James?”

“Wet dog” James replied easily, “And that awful old leather jacket Padfoot refuses to throw away,”

“I bet Sirius smells chocolate and wool” 

James had known Peter for years, they'd had baths together when they were babies, learned how to ride a bicycle from James’ father, spent ten christmases trying to make gingerbread houses and so many more memories. 

That’s all to say, James knew what Peter smelled like. He had a distinct cologne he swore worked wonders on the ladies, and as stereotypical as it was for the rat to love cheese, he really did. 

So if James was in love with his best mate, that’s what he would have smelled. 

But instead when he dared to take a whiff of the potion (after coughing violently because it was pretty strong), all he smelled was broom wax, old books and paint. 

“Mmmhmm” Peter grinned, “Camembert, and candy. Smells so great I’m hungry now. And you?”

“Old books” He frowned, “And paint”

“Careful, Pads might think you’re in love with Moony too”

James wasn’t sure what he was expecting. He was glad he didn’t smell lilies, relating to his old embarrassing crush. It had been months since he had obsessed over Lily Evans and even thinking about that time made him cringe. 

James had quickly realized he had no idea what love was supposed to be. He grew up watching his parents so immensely in love he’d been in love with the idea of love and the idea of Lily Evans. And ideas are dangerous things to be in love with. 

For his sake and Lily’s, he was glad he stopped liking her. 

But after Lily… well, there had been someone James had grown a liking too. And he couldn’t help the disappointment when he didn’t smell Regulus in the potion. He took a few more whiffs, just to be sure. But to no avail. The potion still smelled the same. 

James wasn’t sure why it bothered him so much. Maybe he was just incapable of loving. Because he couldn’t smell Regulus, that had to mean he wasn’t in love with the boy as he had previously thought. This was clearly a Lily situation again. And that bothered James. Mainly because he wanted to be in love. Not just because of his fantasy of being so in love with someone, but also because Regulus was so lovely. 

He was witty and sharp, beautiful and sarcastic, knowledgeable and petty, headstrong and stubborn but also sweet and funny. He seemed to positively glow under James’ praise. James loved it when he flushed pink, James loved it when he shot back a retort, when he smiled a secret smile for only James, when he dragged his long fingers over James’ skin— touch for the sake of touch. James loved every single thing about Regulus, the way his eyes crinkled when he tried to stop himself from laughing at one of James’ bad jokes, the way he sneezed, the way his lips parted, the way he tasted so sweet when they kissed, but most of all, James thought he was in love with Regulus.

He wasn’t sure what smell he was searching for. He knew Regulus didn’t smell. He didn’t have a signature smell like Peter’s cologne. But James was still disappointed. 

He wanted to make Regulus feel loved, he wanted to be in love. He had said it once and Regulus had said it before. 

Three simple words. 

And what if they were a lie?

A knock on the door made Slughorn change directions. He had been heading toward James and Peter’s potion to check it, but he walked toward the open door. 

James would have recognised those curls anywhere. 

Even before Regulus was fully visible, stepping into the doorway, eyes searching the class, James was grinning. Who cared what the stupid potion said? The potion could be wrong. Maybe James and Peter brewed it wrong. 

All that mattered was that Regulus lit up James’ world, it genuinely felt that way. Just passing him in the hallways, getting to stare at him as he stared at the stars, just listening to him talk about astronomy or his favorite paintings felt like a reward to James.

So yeah, fuck the potion. 

James Potter was in love with Regulus Black.

That’s when he spotted the paint splattered on the edges of his otherwise neat robe. He was handing a book he must have borrowed back to Slughorn. His eyes landed on James and though he tried to keep his composure in thanking the professor, James grew ecstatic at the acknowledgement.

The effect Regulus had on him really had to be studied. 

Just before he left, he sniffed the room, his eyebrows furrowing in that Regulus Black way as he mock glared at James. He had the face of an aristocrat but the mind of an artist. Maybe he was both.

James was thankful his table was the closest to the door and the others were too busy either bickering, fawning over their potion or still completing it. 

“You smell, Potter” Regulus scrunched his nose in disgust, turning to walk away, “Didn’t you shower after quidditch? It’s disgusting, it’s a wonder the whole room isn’t gagging with how strong it is, even your sandalwood perfume can’t mask it.”

James could barely say anything before Regulus had walked away. 

Paint splatter, the old books in the room of requirement and Regulus’ personal collection, the broom wax from when James had watched him polish his broom before a match against Hufflepuff. 

Slowly the pieces floated together and James thought he had started floating too. He felt light, like a floating lantern, a ball of warmth in his chest. 

And what had Regulus been talking about? James twisted his ankle his last game. Madam Pomfrey hadn’t cleared him to fly the whole week, he had been moping about not being able to play. 

When he looked at Peter, his friend was looking back with an amused look. 

“Fucking hell, Prongs”

“Don’t tell Padfoot”

#jegulus oneshot #jegulus #dead gay wizards from the 70s #starchaser #amortentia #james and regulus #regulus black #james potter #wolfstar #remus lupin #sirius black

[slytherweasley]

Late (poly marauders x reader)

Warnings: swearing, smut, oral, penetration, unprotected sex, shower sex, dirty talk

Summary: the marauders are known for being late because of their needs constantly being fulfilled.

(Thank you so much for 5k)

You always ended up being late no matter where you would go. People started noticing when you would be early or on time rather than when you were late. You never had a problem with it before you were dating your three boyfriends.

Now you had to satisfy the needs of your three teenage boyfriends who are constantly horny and their needs make you needy. The weekends are usually spent in their dorm fucking all day long.

You started getting ready for school and other commitments earlier however it didn’t fix the problem. You’d get in the shower in the morning and Remus would meet you in there.

“Morning baby” he says undressing and getting into the shower with you. “Morning Rem” you press a kiss to his lips and shortly after your greetings you’d be pressed up against the shower wall as Remus pounds into you.

It was almost a daily ritual.

“Fuck right there” you wrap your legs tighter around his torso as he brings you both closer to your orgasm. “Such a good girl” he groans into your ear sending you over the edge and finishing around him.

He finishes inside you, cleans you up and you’re both ready for the day until your other two boyfriends wake up. “Y/n” James whines, you cuddle up next to him “morning Jamie” you press a kiss to his forehead “you’re so pretty” he compliments.

You could already feel how hard he was. “You want me to suck your cock?” You ask and press a kiss to his cheek “yes, yes I do please” he begs.

You pull down his pyjama pants letting his cock free and waste no time in sucking him off. Sirius gets up “fuck this is hot” he says. He gets onto the bed and lifts up your skirt pulling down your underwear.

James’s moans make you incredibly wet as Sirius discovers. “Baby, you’re so fucking wet, I just want to help you” you take your lips off James’s cock “Siri, please eat me out” James whines at the cold air hitting his cock.

You move your mouth back onto his cock and Sirius eats you out from behind. Remus watches from his bed jerking off to the three of you.

James groans each time you moan around his cock. “I’m close” he warns and finishes in your mouth. Sirius flips you over so you’re laying beside James allowing him better access to your pussy.

James joins Sirius in eating you out, his tongue teases your entrance. Remus joins the three of you and pressed kisses to your face and neck.

You hold onto Remus’s hand as you finish. The boys clean you up and fix your uniform as you calm down after the intense high.

Once the four of you are ready you make it to the end of breakfast grabbing whatever is left and quickly eating it on the way to your next class.

After your first class of the day, Sirius met you outside your class and walked you to your next class with him. You are potions partners which meant Sirius could be close to you, he rested his hand on your thigh and you knew he had a motive.

His hand slowly crept up your thigh until he was circling your clit over your underwear. You looked at him as you tried not to make a sound. Your hand moves to his bulge massaging his semi hard cock.

As soon as you were dismissed you made your way to the closest broom closet. Sirius casts a silencing spell and pulls your underwear down. You help him unbutton his constricted pants and underwear letting his cock free.

He pushes you up against the wall and shoves himself inside you immediately pounding inside you. You were both the vocal ones in your relationship. Sirius grunts and groans keeping his hands securely around your waist muttering filthy words into your ear.

“So tight, just want to fill you up with my cock.” “Stretching out that tight little pussy.” You moan and squeeze around him.

He fucks into your a couple more times. “Fuck so wet” he cries out “so good” you moan. “Gonna pull out and cum in your mouth baby, ok?” You nod. He pulls out and you bring your mouth to his cock as he finishes and you swallow it all.

He helps you put your underwear on and fixes your skirt “thank you” you say your head still foggy and submissive “No baby, thank you. You’re too good to me” he presses a kiss to your forehead.

Sirius walks you to your class pressing a kiss on your lips before you walk in late and sit next to Remus. “At least one of you was on time today” your professor says,

Remus already could tell you’d been fucked. “Sirius?” He questions you “yeah, like 2 minutes ago” you could tell by Remus’s tone and body language he was a bit jealous he didn’t get to join in.

From then to the end of the day you’d met up with Remus to suck him off in an empty hallway and James had eaten you out in a broom closet.

You never seemed to tire of their neediness. It made you feel loved and wanted.

Both you and James always had the last class off on a Thursday. You met in his dorm, he was already in and excited to see you, he meets you with a kiss and starts undressing.

“In a rush Jamie?” You ask “I need to you to ride me” “It’s okay I will.” James undresses you down to your underwear, your lips connect with his as the two of you desperately hunger for each other.

“I need to be inside you” James mumbles against your lips quickly before pressing his lips to yours once again. You tug on James’ hair, he moans into the kiss.

You finally give in to him and start to unclasp your bra and pull off your underwear. James sits up getting undressed and waits for you with his cock hard and painful.

You straddle him lining him up with your entrance, you both give each other a meaningful look of anticipation. You sink down onto his cock, you both moan at the feeling.

You move up and down until you find the perfect pace that fills the room up with your moans and the sound of your skin meeting as you ride him. Your hips move up and down and side to side making yourself feel good on his cock.

The door swings open, Sirius and Remus walk in. “Fuck me” Sirius drops his bag and walks over to the bed “Is Jamie being a good boy for you, darling?” Remus asks “yes so good” you don’t stop the pace until you feel yourself getting close.

Sirius touches you all over placing kisses on your jaw and neck while Remus holds your hand. “Fuck I’m almost there” you let your hips move at a fast pace moving in every direction that makes you feel good. You look over at James as he looks infatuated with you, you can tell he is close.

“Jamie, you don’t cum until I do” he nods. He concentrates on not finishing. You feel yourself getting closer, the boys can tell you’re almost there. “Good girl” Remus presses a kiss to your cheek “cum for us sweetheart” Sirius encourages.

You squeeze around James and finish around him, seconds later you feel James finish inside you.

You cuddle up next to James while Remus cleans you up. You feel your eyes getting heavier as you drift off to sleep.

#harry potter #hp imagine #smut #marauders fic #marauders smut #marauders fluff #poly!marauders smut #poly!marauders fluff #james potter smut #remus lupin smut #sirius black smut #sirius black x james potter #sirius black x james potter smut #marauders era smut #marauders era fluff #marauders imagine #poly marauders #marauders x reader #marauders fanfiction #marauders oneshot #marauders smut oneshot

[appocalipse]

RIGHT WHERE I WANT TO BE : ̗̀➛ SIRIUS BLACK

summary: it's only when lily accidentally spills amortentia on you and all you can smell is cigarettes and dog fur that you realize you're in love with sirius — probably the only person in the world you shouldn't be in love with.

"Oh, crap!" Lily seems on the verge of panic as she stares at the fresh stain on your clothes. "I'm so sorry!"

Somewhat shocked, you reach your hand to the front of your uniform and try to rub it away. It's no use. "It's okay," you assure her gently, relieved that the liquid didn't spill on the clean set of clothes you were folding instead, "it was an accident."

You put the clothes safely away in the trunk near your bed. They still have the fresh and clean scent of lavender. Your uniform, however…

Lily points her wand at your chest, and the stain quickly disappears. She had rushed through the entrance of the dormitory fast as lightning, crashing right into you and spilling…

Well, what exactly?

"Lily," you bring a hand to your own face, sniffing, then sniffing again. "What is this? It smells like a wet dog and-"

Your eyes meet and you immediately dislike the look on her face. Too much restrained excitement slowly bubbling up...

"-cigarettes…" you trail off, some sort of realization dawning on you way too late.

It can't be.

Lily bites her lower lip as if trying to hold back a smile. "Is that what it smells like to you?"

You also catch the scent of quill ink and freshly brewed coffee, so it can only be…

You put your hand away from your nose as if it's on fire.

"Tell me this is not what I think this is."

"If you're not thinking of Amortentia, then yes."

"Why would you brew Amortentia?!"

"For Professor Slughorn," she sees the confusion etched on your face and looks positively horrified. "Not for Professor Slughorn to drink! Ew! I said I'd like to try brewing one because it's, you know, a bit complicated and I've never tried before. He said he'd give Gryffindor some points if I succeeded. I didn't know you would… you know, smell Sirius."

"I never said I smelled him!"

"Okay! Okay," Lily raises both hands in surrender. Then, quieter, she adds, "You can pretend all you want."

You sigh. "Did you only have this vial?"

"Well, there should be some potion left in the cauldron, I think."

Great. An opportunity to escape this beyond strange situation. "I'll go get it for you."

"But I-"

You're out the Gryffindor common room before Lily has a chance to question your offer. The need to get away from that impending conversation is stronger than anything else right now.

Your heart is racing as you walk through the corridors of the castle, heading towards the dungeons, where Potions class usually take place. Each step is an effort to calm your turbulent mind and find some peace.

Upon reaching the Potions classroom, you welcome the silent space as you enter. The characteristic smell of magical ingredients and herbs fills your nostrils, bringing a familiar and almost comforting sensation… until you catch that smell. Amortentia.

You look around, searching for Lily's cauldron, which she mentioned leaving behind.

It's not hard to find; the smell is quite distinct, enchanting, all the things you love most in the world somehow united in a single aroma.

The cauldron is sitting on one of the workbenches. You approach cautiously, making sure not to knock anything over. Then you rummage through the shelves for an empty vial and pour some of the potion into it, feeling like you're doing something wrong even though Lily had Slughorn's permission.

The door opens, and you almost drop a row of glass bottles as you turn to look.

"What are you doing here?" he asks.

It's Sirius. Of course, it's him.

He closes the door behind him, and your heart skips a beat as it usually does whenever he's around. He's wearing the Gryffindor uniform, the first two buttons undone, revealing a patch of delicate skin just below his neck.

You don't need to wonder how he got there or why. Chances are, he extracted every piece of information he needed from Lily with little to no effort.

"What are you doing?" he asks calmly. You, on the other hand, don't feel calm at all.

"Nothing, just..."

"Just?" He takes a step closer, and you instinctively move away from the workbench, trying not to show the nervousness you truly feel.

"I just came to get something," you say.

Sirius gives a suspicious glance at the cauldron. "Is it a love potion?" He's a skilled wizard. Skilled enough to know the answer to that question, yet he waits for you to respond.

"Lily made it," you say defensively, holding up the vial containing the potion to illustrate your point unnecessarily.

"And what scent do you smell?" he questions, with a genuine curiosity in his tone that catches you off guard. "What does the potion smell like to you?"

"Lily told you," it's far from a question.

But Sirius has a knack for playing games.

"She told me what?"

"You know what."

This time, you step back as he advances, unable to help yourself, swallowing hard and Sirius notices. He takes another step forward, and you take another step back.

"Sirius," you warn.

In return, Sirius says your name, his tone lighter, more playful, soft as a feather. Then, another step.

You nearly bump your hip against one of the workbenches as you take another desperate step back. Sirius, being Sirius, raises an eyebrow, making no effort to hide his amusement.

It's unfair. It's simply unfair that he's so good-looking, starting at you without feeling the need to averting his gaze. "You don't have to do this," you find yourself saying.

Sirius seems genuinely puzzled.

"Do what?"

You steal a glance in your peripheral vision. The room won't go on forever; you need to say something to get out of this situation before he gets too close. You don't trust yourself near Sirius.

"Turn me down. Be all nice-" you stutter. He keeps advancing toward you. Back almost against the wall, you dodge another workbench and turn to the left, trying to prevent him from cornering you.

Sirius chuckles. "Is that what you think?"

"I'm a big girl. I can take rejection."

He glances in the direction of the cauldron. "Do you want to know what scent I smell?"

"No."

"Leather-"

"Sirius-"

"Gasoline," he raises his chin, nose in the air as if enjoying one scent after another. "Apple pie."

For a moment, you close your eyes. "Stop it."

"And lavender."

Your heart is pounding in your chest. He's not being serious, a little voice in your mind insists. It can't be serious. He's just teasing you... or maybe just being a good friend. Too good a friend.

It would be easier if he wasn't. If he were less kind to you, less handsome, less charming.

It's not easy.

You're breathless, trying to keep your distance from Sirius as he sets a slow advance, a constant tease. It's an internal battle between the desire to give in to the attraction you feel for him and the need to protect yourself — but the latter wins, for now.

"Sirius," you plead, your voice quiet, "stop"

He pauses for a moment, his gray eyes fixed on yours. "You think I'm joking, don't you? You think I'm just being nice?"

"I... I don't know, Sirius. It's so...confusing."

He takes yet another step towards you, his lips curling into a challenging smile. Always challenging. "Confusing or scary?"

The tension between you two is palpable, and you wonder if he can hear the rapid beating of your heart, threatening to break out of your rib cage any given moment. You know you're fighting your own feelings, afraid of surrendering to something that may - and probably will - end in heartbreak.

"It's not fair," you whisper, trying to keep your voice steady. "It's not fair that you're so... so-"

"So what?" he teases, closer. "So handsome? So charming? So... irresistible?"

You can tell he's somehow having fun. You don't understand how he can maintain a playful tone in a moment like this.

You catch a whiff of his cologne, feel the warmth of his body, and your heart races once again. If there's a way to prevent Sirius from getting what he wants, you don't know what it is. "So confusing," you finish, almost in a whisper. "You confuse the hell out of me."

Sirius pauses for a moment, his eyes locked with yours, and you momentarily catch a flicker of something deeper in this playful gaze. He slowly raises a hand and gently, gentler than ever, caresses your face, his fingers tracing a delicate path along your skin.

"I don't see how I could be confusing you," he murmurs, his voice soft and husky. "I thought I was being pretty clear..." It's teasing, of course it is; when it comes to Sirius, few things aren't.

But there's something else behind it, too.

The air grows heavier.

"You're not clear about anything, Sirius," you reply, your voice faltering slightly. "I never know what you're thinking. I never know what you really mean."

"Maybe you're just not paying attention."

You furrow your brow, confused by Sirius' response. He's playing with you, as he always does, but this time it feels more intense, more meaningful. You struggle against the temptation to give in completely, to say something you might not be able to take back.

"I do pay attention, Sirius," you respond, your voice showing determination you're not entirely sure you feel. "It's you who likes to make everything more difficult than it needs to be."

He moves closer once again, so close now that you can feel his breath against your skin, the tip of his nose an inch away from touching yours.

"Do you want me to be clearer?" he whispers, voice laced with a hint of his usual mischief. "Make it easier?"

You swallow, feeling your heart race. You know you can't admit your feelings for him, you can't let your defenses down. Not when he makes a point to hide comfortably behind a facade, away from anything that makes him feel vulnerable.

You need honesty.

"Yes," you whisper, your voice almost faltering. "Yes, I do."

Sirius pauses for a moment, eyes searching yours, and you can feel your breath catch in your throat. Then, slowly, he moves closer and closer still, until his lips almost touch yours.

There is a feeling that you can't quite put into words.

"I want you," he murmurs, an admission that hangs in the air like a charged electric current. "I want to be with you. I want you to be happy– I'll even accept your awful taste in music," he adds with a playful smirk, teasingly referencing your occasional guilty pleasure for a particular genre of music that he often mocks.

A laugh escapes your lips, a combination of relief and affection. His sincerity is pretty close to melting away any remaining doubts that linger in your heart. "I have great taste in music," you state playfully.

Sirius brushes the side of his nose against yours affectionately. "Sometimes," he gives in, voice filled with genuine warmth.

You lean into his touch, savoring the tenderness and intimacy of the moment. It's as if the world around you has faded away, leaving only the two of you in this bubble of shared emotions.

"Sometimes?" you raise an eyebrow, pretending to be offended.

He chuckles, a low and melodic sound that resonates deep within your chest, a sound you don't get to hear as often as you'd like. "You're lucky you're pretty," he teases, his voice filled with affectionate playfulness.

"Oh?"

"I have a soft spot for pretty girls."

You roll your eyes but can't help the smile that forms on your lips. "Flattery will get you nowhere, Black."

Sirius leans in and presses a soft kiss to your cheek, pulling away with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

"Who said I was trying to get anywhere?" he whispers, fingers trailing along the curve of your waist, drawing you closer. "I'm already where I want to be."

Your heart swells with warmth, and you can feel a blush creeping up your cheeks.

"Smooth talker."

It doesn't sound like an accusation when you're about to kiss him.

#sirius black x reader #sirius black #sirius black x you #sirius black oneshot #sirius black imagine #sirius black fanfic #sirius black x fem!reader #sirius black fluff #sirius black angst #sirius x you #sirius x reader #marauders fanfic #marauders imagine #sirius black drabble #marauders drabble #marauders era

[fourmoony]

𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐫

f!reader x Personal Trainer!James

summary: reader has a massive crush on PT!James

cw: working out, weight training, pointed out muscle definition

"You've got three more, for sure." James urges you on, looking far too relaxed for your liking where he stands above you, his arms crossed over his chest and his stupidly big muscles bulging against his thermal long sleeve.

Your abdominal muscles feel like they're ripping apart. If you weren't concerned about the ten kilogram kettlebell falling from where it's raised above your head and cracking your skull open, you'd consider throwing it at James' stupidly amused face. You raise your legs, put them back down and James counts, "Two more."

It takes every bit of energy, every morsel of motivation to finish the final set of leg raises, and you allow the kettlebell to tumble out of your grasp and to the left with a loud exhale of pain. You've been attending Personal Training with James long enough to not be embarrassed about the groan that follows, or the way you curl up into a ball. It's nearing the end of your hourly session, and James laughs at your dramatics. "You're not gonna catch your breath with your lungs constricted like that." He chides, and his hands comes into view.

You grumble, hating that you know he's right. Your muscles squeeze uncomfortably as he helps you up, despite you allowing him to take most of your weight. You've seen him workout, before, you know he pulls double your body weight with ease. He smiles wide when you're standing, gives you a little tug until you're stumbling closer to him. He smells like the gym, a little bit of woodsy cologne.

Your cheeks heat and you release his hand with a quiet, "Thanks." It's not like you're blind, James is beautiful. He's ripped and he's tanned, and his hair is stupidly soft. But it doesn't help that he's cheeky and funny, or that he's such a nice guy you always feel guilty for the profanities you spew at him on shoulder and back day. James picks up your abandoned kettlebell with ease and sets it on the bench you've claimed in the small studio gym.

"You good to hit legs for a couple before we finish?" James asks, and you know you don't have much of a choice because he's already turned and is walking towards the barbell weights in the corner.

You hum, reaching for your bottle of water, "Sure."

James lifts two twenty kilogram plates and walks them over to where you're standing. You try not to look at the way his muscles pop with the weights in each hand and James pretends not to notice you growing flustered. He sets them down next to each other and does the same again. By the time he's done, you've caught your breath.

"Elevated Sumo Squats," He gives you a knowing grin. He's fully aware how much you hate these, and he's unapologetic about it. "You know the drill, foot on each set of plates, squat until the kettlebell touches the floor."

You nod, "'Kay."

James holds out a hand as you step onto the weight plates, careful they don't slip out from under you and then hands you the kettlebell. "Try for ten. If you get to ten, we'll go for twelve."

You huff, a smile playing at your lips, "Just say try for twelve, James."

"Okay," James grins, "Go for twelve."

With a petulant eye roll, you start. The first set is never the problem, and James knows this. He watches you closely, an eye on your form at all times. You try not to think about the fact half of his job is staring at your ass, and you definitely try not to wonder if he likes what he sees. Sleeping with your Personal Trainer would be wildly inappropriate. You know James takes his job seriously, but it's hard not to imagine such things when he's standing over you muttering affirmations and praise. It's even harder when he reaches forwards, his fingertips grazing the top of your ass cheek, his voice low as he murmurs, "Keep your head up, back straight. You'll feel it more here."

You nod, mouth dry. "Like this?"

James nods at your corrected form. "That's ten, try two more."

The weight thuds against the ground when you're done and James helps you off of the plates. "How'd that feel?" He asks, fingers gentle as they grasp your wrist, turning it until he can read your heart rate from your smart watch.

"Like I'm gonna be waddling, tomorrow."

James huffs a laugh through his nose, "Well your heart rate is in zone four."

"Gross, so unfit." You snatch your wrist back.

He shakes his head, hands you your water, "Means you're working hard, pushing yourself. And pushing yourself gets results."

You answer with a shrug, swallow the water. James takes it back, nods his head to the plates. "Go again, this time, hold a half squat on the way back up for a couple seconds."

"That's hateful. You're being hateful."

"You got it." James encourages.

James' eyes your form carefully, nods subtly to show he's happy with it. "Working tonight?" He asks.

He has an incredible talent for making conversation at the worst times but you indulge him nonetheless, always willing to talk to him outside of what muscles you're working, and how to correct your form. "Nah. A rare day off."

"Lucky."

You smile, "Yeah, I feel so lucky right now."

James laughs. He laughs like a summer breeze. His eyes light up and his lips twitch. For a guy who looks like he could drop absolutely anyone who came near him, he's incredibly soft-hearted. It always stuns you, how kind and bright he actually is.

"You have clients til' late?" You ask, even though it feels like your lungs might explode.

"Thats eight," James tells you, "No. Just one after you."

You nod, "Early finish. Work harder, Jamie."

James unfolds his arms to point at you, tsking before he orders, "I was gonna have you stop at ten. Go for twelve, now."

It goes on like that through your final set, steady conversation that barely leaves the area of general small talk. You help James put the weights away, even when he tells you not to bother, even though you can only lift one where he lifts two. He checks your watch again, is happy with how hard you've pushed yourself.

"Are we taking progress pictures, this week?" You ask, scooping up your water bottle and car keys.

James shakes his head, "Next week, but I wanna show you something."

He guides you to the mirror against the weight wall where he stands behind you. It's hard to ignore the way he towers over you, almost swallowing you whole, and the inappropriate thoughts that spring to mind, the things you could do in the mirror, the things you'd love to see him do. You swallow. James lifts his hand, his fingertips grazing your shoulder, "You see how your shoulder is more rounded, now, instead of flat?"

You nod, scared to speak.

"That's muscle. It's the same here," His fingertips blaze a burning trail down your arm, "Your biceps, your abs," They skim over your waist, dip around your back, "Your glutes, your thighs, calves," He removes his hand, fingers flexing at his sides as though he's physically straining not to touch you. "All the muscle is growing. You're getting along so well you don't need progress pictures to notice it anymore."

Your face feels like it's on fire, your body leaning back into him until you feel the heat of his body, your shoulder brushing his arm. "So you're worth the money, then?" You ask, voice hoarse.

James smirks, his eyes lighten a little, "Oh, for sure."

Your eyes meet in the mirror, his head tilts a little downwards into a nod. "Same time next week?" He asks.

"That works." It comes out in a breath, your eyes unable to leave his.

You're not sure what normal behaviour is from a PT, but this doesn't seem like it. The thought of him acting like this with other clients makes your tummy twist uncomfortably, and you come to the startling realisation that you may be well and truly fucked. There's a reason you look forward to going to the gym, even though it takes all of your energy, there's a reason you save your nicest gym sets for the days you attend training. There's a reason you find yourself purposefully having the wrong form, if just to feel James' touch. It's wildly inappropriate, you know that. But you can't stop it or change it.

James nods, "Okay, well. You did great today. You should be chuffed."

He's so genuine, so nice, so fucking handsome. His brows hook in the middle at your hesitation, the way you force a smile onto your lips as you step away, turn to face him. "Thanks, James."

"Give me a message if you need anything, but if not, I'll see you next week." His eyes flick to the metal door, which creaks open and his next client comes through.

You hate the way you feel relief at the man who waves at James, the fact it's not some beautiful, toned woman. It makes you feel childish.

"Cool. Bye, James."

He waves, letting you start to walk away before he approaches his next client. The door swings shut behind you after a small smile to the man waiting, the cool air dousing you with a cold, startling reality. Your relationship with James doesn't extend past the gym, past a professional setting where you're paying James to train you. He'll never see past that.

And if James is inside the gym getting shit from his best friend about flirting with his cute client, about being so stupidly infatuated that he's come into work on his day off just because it suited you best, well, that's no ones business but his.

#james potter #james potter fic #james potter imagine #james potter oneshot #james potter x reader #james potter x f!reader #james potter fluff #james potter angst #marauders #marauders era #marauders fic #marauders imagine #sirius black #remus lupin #fourmoony #angst #love #fluff #smut

[theemporium]

Just a thought but Sirius or someone having a thing for you for ages and at some point you finally get together but Remus James and Peter just don’t believe it because you’re so opposite and Sirius just trying to convince them but they don’t believe him until they walk into you kissing or something. Love your work btw <3

kinda changed it to sirius being with someone they never expected but i hope you enjoy it! and thank you!!🖤

.

“Pads is dating her?!”

Remus and James stood in front of Peter, lips parted in shock at the rumour that just left their friend’s lips. They had been in the common room, respective textbooks sprawled around them when Peter came rushing in, eyes wide and cheeks flushed at what he had just seen.

At first, they thought their friend was taking the piss and waited for Sirius to jump out from the shadows with a grin on his face, claiming it was all a prank. But no Sirius had appeared and Peter kept talking and—fuck, they just couldn’t quite believe it.

In all honesty, it was shocking enough that Sirius had settled down with one person, let alone that he was dating you of all people. 

You stood for everything they assumed their friend hated, purely because you would’ve been Walburgha Black’s number one choice to marry her eldest son off with. 

You were raised with the pureblood etiquette, speaking prim and proper and not even allowing yourself to use slang as you spoke. You were a Slytherin, and proud to be so. You were crazy smart and you were the image of pureblood royalty, though the cold shoulder you usually gave people and the snarky attitude didn’t exactly make it easy for even those with a pureblood complex to approach you. 

Even if for some bizarre reason their friend had fallen for you, the fact that you liked him back was shocking enough to keep both boys seated on the couch as Peter retold the story for the thirteenth time. 

“I’m calling bullshit,” James said with a shake of his head. “This must be some elaborate prank he’s pulled off.”

“And what? Got her involved?” Remus asked. 

“Maybe it’s someone with a polyjuice potion,” Peter supplied. 

“Or maybe Pads is actually dating her,” Remus said before his nose scrunched up. “Yeah no, he’s definitely up to something.” 

It took less than five seconds to work out where Sirius was with the help of the map that was quickly shoved in their pocket as all three boys began rushing towards the courtyard, so sure that whatever Peter had seen had to be false. 

Because there was no fucking way that Sirius Black was—

All three boys quickly drew to a stop when they noticed you both. You were sitting on a picnic blanket, leaning back on your hands as you nodded along to something. Sirius, however, had his head propped on your lap, talking away as his hands moved animatedly to the point they could have sworn they saw your lips twitch into a smile. 

“Holy shit,” James gaped at the sight. 

“It could still be a prank,” Remus said, though he didn’t know how much he really believed that himself. 

And just when they thought they couldn’t be shocked any further, you leaned down to press your lips against the wizard, his hand coming to grip the back of your neck as he deepened the kiss. 

“Moony, are you seeing this?” 

“I’m seeing this, Prongs.” 

“Right, great because I think I’m gonna faint.” 

What they couldn’t see was the way Sirius’s lips twisted into a grin as he continued to kiss you, his fingers expertly pulling the clip out of your hair until it cascaded around you both. 

“Your friends are still staring,” you informed him, the words whispered against his lips as you began to pull back but he was quick to chase you. 

“Let them stare all they want, love,” he murmured as his thumb lightly brushed over your thumping pulse. “I bet they are fucking confused.” 

“Such crass language,” you hummed. 

Sirius smirked. “Gonna punish me, love?” 

You shook your head in amusement, pulling back fully despite the way Sirius playfully pouted in response. “You wouldn’t be able to handle my punishments, Black.” 

His eyes gleamed at the challenge. “Is that so?” 

“You are all bark and no bite,” you informed him and the boy was quick to scramble up, his hands darting to your sides as he crawled over your squirming body. 

“I can show you just how hard I bite, love, you just gotta ask.”

.

#sirius black #marauders #harry potter #hp #sirius black x reader #sirius black x you #sirius black x y/n #sirius black fic #sirius black one shot #marauders x reader #marauders x you #marauders x y/n #marauders fic #marauders one shot #harry potter x reader #harry potter x you #harry potter x y/n #harry potter fic #harry potter oneshot #hp x reader #hp x you #hp x y/n #hp fic #hp one shot

[luveline]

hi baby if you feel up for it i'd love to request some fluffy fluff with sirius. maybe he's usually so reserved and stoic (because, cmon) and they're out with his friends and they're all making fun of him for being so lovey and doting on r

love u sm!

love you!! ♡ fem, 1k

"This is really lovely," Sirius says, your face turned to the light in his hand. "It's bright without looking out of place. Blue is your colour." 

"Thanks, bug," you murmur back, holding still as he cleans the smudged mascara from your lower lash line.

"Every colour is your colour," he amends. "It goes nice with your top." 

You rub your lips together slowly, sticky with gloss. His noticing makes all your make up efforts worth it. 

Sirius wipes his thumb into the tissue you'd given him and tucks it away, stroking your cheek one last time with his other hand before stealing yours to twine your fingers. Your friends have carried on into the pub, but it doesn't take long to catch them. Remus was kind enough to wait at the entrance, eyebrows raised. 

"What?" Sirius asks. 

"Nothing." It's clearly something. "At all." 

You figure it's between them and skirt past Remus with a smile, eager to hide away in the warm wooded walls of The Firestroke. The boys filter in behind you, following you through the entryway and past the bar to the table James has commandeered with Emmeline. 

He's fiddling with her hair, readjusting a bobby pin, another held between his lips. "It looks nice, Emme, you should have it out of your face more often." 

"Marl says that all the time. Hey!" She beams at you. "Come and sit by me." 

You laugh happily and slide onto the seat next to her. You, Emme, and James sit on the booth side while Sirius and Remus set themselves down opposite. A waitress arrives and Sirius doesn't wait for the others, ordering a round of drinks for the entire group, wherever they may be. They'll filter in soon enough. 

"And extra cherries for my girl, please," Sirius says, nodding to you as he does. "Thanks." 

"Ooh, for his girl," James croons. 

"Remember when he'd order stuff for me like that?" Remus asks. 

Sirius rolls his eyes, offering his hands to you from across the table. Honestly, you're slightly surprised at his behaviour today, but you won't look a gift horse in the mouth. You lay your hands in his obligingly and relax as he begins to draw shapes into the fronts of your fingers, tiny stroking lines that feel ridiculously good, even under the eyes of your friends. "He's lying. I'd purposefully get his food wrong when we were teenagers so he'd have to go up to the counter and correct it." 

"Like exposure therapy I never signed up for," Remus sighs. "It worked, too." 

Sirius laughs. He's handsome to begin with, the last burst of a tan from summer's end on his skin, his hair dark and lush in the shimmering light, and when he laughs it's a tenfold effect, the grey of his eyes suddenly mesmerising, the wicked curve of his smile softened into a sweeter thing that begs to be kissed, or admired at the very least. You let him keep one hand but turn the other inward to give him similar treatment, rubbing your fingertips up and down his palm in a ticklish wave. 

"Do that to me, mate, there's a good lad," James says, offering his hand. Emmeline bats it away. 

"Awfully jealous today, aren't they?" Sirius asks you, ignoring their teasing to curl your fingers in and cover them. 

"I…" You're not sure what to say. Does he not realise how sweet he's being? Publicly? He's not usually this open. 

"You okay?" 

"Fine, just…" Words fail you twice. You cringe at your lack of explanation, but Sirius doesn't falter in his nice touches. It shouldn't shock you when he slides his chair tight against the table and pulls your hands ever closer, his top lip scratchy with hair as he leans down to kiss your knuckles. "Siri." 

"Yes, darling?"

"Jesus," Marl says, announcing her presence with a faked gag. "What's your problem, Black?" 

"I'm deeply in love, McKinnon. Not that you'd know what that feels like." 

You melt in your chair as he kisses a short path to your wrist. You could write Marlene a ten thousand word essay on love if she needed it, that's how adored he's got you feeling. 

"Absolutely vile."

"So sweet!" Mary denies, plopping herself down in the chair beside Sirius', all pink tulle and flowery smells. Any other day you'd be jealous of her in a good-natured but undeniably insecure manner, terrified that Sirius was gonna turn to her and see her in all her dewy beauty, but he doesn't so much as look up, your hands now rubbed against his cheek. 

"He's had a bit of catnip or something," Remus says. 

"It's the eyeshadow," you try to explain. 

Sirius lifts his head severely. "It looks perfect, but it's definitely not the eyeshadow. I'd feel just as mad about you if you were covered in soot." 

"Good to know," you say breathlessly. 

"Oh, so you're feeling pathetic today?" Marl asks.

Sirius sighs as though he's been greatly inconvenienced and sits up properly, casting his gaze around the group for a lick of sense between them, if his slack eyebrows are anything to go off of. "You're all wrong. I'm this pathetic for her every day of the week." 

"Then what's with the PDA?" James asks incredulously. 

"Mate, first of all, look at her. And if you must know, it's our anniversary." 

You flinch, your gaze jumping to his. The group erupts with well wishes and 'why didn't you say so's, and James slaps his card on the table, insisting that the round is on him to celebrate. Your heart races as you make the calculations in your head, calming as you realise that nothing falls on today's date, not a half month nor a first date. 

"Sirius?" you ask while everyone's distracted. 

He takes your hand again and begins kissing your knuckles once more. "I'm lying," he says, as you'd figured, scratching your fingers with his stubble. "That's what he gets for prying… You really do look lovely tonight." 

You nearly swallow your tongue. "Thank you. You look lovely, too." 

He smiles, twining your fingers together to rest his face against the back of your hand. "Thanks, angel." 

#sirius black #sirius black x reader #sirius black x fem!reader #sirius black x you #sirius black x y/n #sirius x reader fluff #sirius black imagine #sirius black fanfiction #sirius black fanfic #sirius black fic #marauders era #marauders #sirius black drabble #sirius black scenario #sirius black oneshot #the marauders #sirius orion black

[writtenbymoonflower]

Hello, author-san! How are you? Could I please request some angst for the poly!marauders, where R is someone full of tattoos or piercings but is smart, a sweetheart, golden retriever coded, and Lily is their friend. Lily knows about their infatuation with the boys. Being a great friend, Lily wants to set them up, but they're a bit uncertain about R because of their tattoos. Then one night, R overhears them talking in the common room with Lily and voices out their opinions regarding R, causing R to become insecure and try to hide it. You can continue however you like! Angst with a happy ending if it's okay! 🥺

Thank you, author-san!

💀🌻

Thanks for requesting sweetheart! Sorry it took so long, hope this is okay! gn!reader x poly!marauders, pre-relationship

cw: prejudice associated with tattoos and piercings, swearing, angst to happy ending

1.8k words (oopsie)

It was like you could hear their words on repeat as you raced up the stairs. What hurt the most is that you knew that some people would judge, but you hadn’t expected it from them. 

“I just don’t know about 'em, Lils.” James winced. “Like they seem nice, but you know about people who choose to look at that…” He trailed off. 

“I’m sure they’re not all bad.” Sirius cut in, clearly uncomfortable with the conversation. “But Prongs does have a point.”

“It’s just the impulsivity of it all.” Remus reasoned. “Like if you’re making rash choices like that, what else would you do.” 

That was when you left your hiding spot in the stairs and ran back to your dorm. You could hear Lily’s ‘I’m so fucking done with you being stupid’ voice as you trailed away, making you smile at the knowledge that you had such a good friend. 

But you had heard enough. They had clearly made their minds up about you. Besides, you knew your appearance was an… acquired taste, to say the least, and you couldn’t expect them to be with someone they weren’t attracted to. You didn’t think you looked that odd, but maybe your perception was skewed. No matter whose perception was more accurate, they clearly didn’t particularly like you, and it was probably best to keep your distance for now, at least until they really got to know you. 

You knew that your appearance didn’t really match your personality. People often assumed you were rude, a slacker, confrontational, or even hateful. But the opposite was true in fact. You always made good marks, you were friends with loads of people, always trying to be as open as possible. And yeah, some people were intimidated at first, but they usually warmed up very quickly. 

Apparently those three, the three you wanted the approval of the most, had not been as warm about you as you thought. 

You crawled into bed and curled into yourself, trying to get a few hours of sleep before breakfast. 

James yawned loudly, blinking his eyes rapidly to get rid of the sleepy, fuzzy film coating them. Him and his boyfriends had been up all night, getting lectured literally until the sun came up. 

He had to admit, it was for the best. All three boys had gone to bed, feeling thoroughly corrected. Even slipping into shame. 

“What the hell is wrong with you three?” Lily whisper-yelled. “James, you are the LAST person to say anything about appearances. Remember when I had to go around convincing people you hadn’t become mean after your growth spurt in fourth year? Just because you were big and scary and you hadn’t realized how you were coming across?” She scolded, before turning her head to the mouse-haired boy sitting by the fire. “And you,” She seethed. “You have no clue if her choices were ‘rash’ or not. I’ve heard plenty of rumors about your appearance, people saying similar things about you. About your ‘aggression’ just because they don’t know what’s going on with you.” She snapped her head over to Sirius, her fiery hair flipping around from the movement. “And Sirius, you’re just overcompensating because you’re jealous! You’re not fooling anyone, you would look like that in an instant if you could. You’re just too scared to do it.”

Sirius played with his thumbs, not able to dispute the accusations. None of the boys could actually. Lily could tell, she was satisfied with her work. 

“I love you three buggers,” She pressed a friendly kiss to each of their cheeks as she stormed upstairs. “You just need to stop being such idiots.” 

Sirius didn’t think anyone could change personalities that fast, but it seemed all three boys had woken up different people. That morning they had all just nodded to each other, acknowledging that their opinions were very different than they had been 24 hours ago and all walked shamefacedly down to breakfast. Sirius kept pushing his eggs around his plate, too busy staring at you to take a bite. You looked a lot different today. Your hair was ruffled in front of your face, hiding the metal glinting on your nose and eyebrow. You also had long sleeves and pants on, covering the ink detailing your skin. You still hadn’t waved at them, or even acknowledged the boys’ existence. Usually, you would be bouncing over to them, talking about the weather or whatever was on your mind at the moment. Sirius missed it if he was honest with himself. He was disappointed, he had been excited to show you his outfit. He crafted it with you in mind, teasing his hair up extra and being a bit more outlandish with his top, even stealing Marlene’s varnish to paint his nails. 

Remus missed your interest in the latest book he had read. You always had so many interesting questions and you listened so intently. He missed how you played with the hoop in your septum as you nodded along to his plot summaries. You were always so patient and careful, it made his heart crack. 

James was equally distraught. He had always prided himself on being open and friends with everyone, and he had considered you his friend, which just made him feel worse. He knew that stereotyping people never led to anything good, especially when someone's personality was completely ignored and replaced with caricature. Yes, you did look intimidating, but he actually liked it. It accentuated how soft your personality actually was. You were like a big dog that everyone was terrified of, but in reality was scared of butterflies and just wanted to love everyone. He laughed sadly, catching the other two boys' attention as he stared longingly at you. All he wanted to do was go over there, but you were completely ignoring them, so he figured it was best to just not bother you and continue on with his breakfast. 

You were being equally as forlorn, continually sneaking glances over at the boys. They looked quiet and tired, but no less handsome. You felt sick, moving to leave your breakfast and all but run to the library. You needed to study anyway, you had become so infatuated that you were ignoring your classes. You had barely made it down the corridor before you heard three sets of panicked footsteps, quickly catching up to you. You tried to walk faster, but unfortunately Remus had very long legs and he briskly made it in front of you, trapping you in. He was looking flushed, amber eyes focusing on you way too much for comfort. 

“Y/N,” He sounded out of breath. You fixed your face down and back, away from their gaze. You stopping had allowed the other two the opportunity to catch up, and soon you were face-to-face with all three of the people who apparently disliked you, but to your dismay, you were still completely attached to. 

“You guys okay?” You asked, as kindly as ever but far quieter than they were used to. 

“We’re fine, lovely.” James said, confused. “Are you okay?”

“I’m good.” You muttered, shifting your feet. 

“Babe,” Sirius scoffed. Your heart jumped at the honorific, but you quickly scolded yourself. Sirius just called everyone that. You had heard what he, what all three of them had said last night. “You ran from there like bat outta’ hell.” He said like you were being ridiculous.

“And you haven’t spoken to us all day.” Remus cut in before you could respond. 

“It’s only seven.” You mumbled.

“Still odd.” James quipped, moving ever so slightly closer to you. “You’re not okay.” He said, with enough finality that you gave up the act all together. They really weren’t going to make this easy on you. They said all those things last night, but they were still going to put you through the misery of having to listen to them say all those things directly to you. 

You sighed dejectedly, starting to pick your nails. “Look okay,” You tore the words from the back of your throat. “I know that you don’t like me or don’t think I’m nice or whatever. You don’t have to talk to me, it’s okay.” You did your best to give them a reassuring smile, even managing for water to stay out of your eyes, but their expressions didn’t make it easy. Sirius cursed and pinched the bridge of his nose, James looked like a kicked puppy, and Remus was hiding his eyes from you. You started to walk away, but you were blocked in.

“Shit, you heard last night?” Sirius winced. You nodded painfully, looking back down at your shoes. The silent tension was so thick you felt it suffocating you. James was the first to do anything, wordlessly striding over to pull you into a bone-crushing hug. You stumbled from the shock, easing into him accidentally, but you made no moves to tense away. You limply wrapped your arms around his waist. 

“I’m so sorry, angel.” He said, panicked. “I was so stupid, I- I never should’ve said it I don’t know what I was even thinking.” He pulled you tighter to him, enough that you were worried of your feet leaving the ground. 

“I’m sorry too.” Sirius said, much more morosely than usual. “Never should’ve said those things, and you never should've heard it either.” 

“We’re all sorry.” Remus said firmly. “We all know better, we should’ve known not to think that way. It’s awfully closed-minded. You’re our friend, we should’ve acted like it.” 

“It’s okay.” You squeezed out. 

“No.” Sirius said sharply. “It’s not okay. I don’t know if you heard what Lily said back, but she pointed out a lot of things, and I can promise that we don’t think that way anymore.” 

“Please, please forgive us, baby. We were so wrong. You’re so kind and smart and funny and gorgeous an-” James was rambling on and on. 

“Jamie, it’s okay. I know you’re sorry.” You giggled at his panicked tone. “Can you uh- you’re kinda crushing me.” 

“Shit! Sorry.” He released you quickly, but not before slicking your hair out of your face. You just laughed, feeling ten times lighter. 

“We’re okay.” You reassured. “I forgive you all, it hurt, but it seems like you are all beating yourselves up enough.”

“Jus’ feel bad.” Remus grabbed you unexpectedly, tugging you into his arms. He wasn’t squeezing you like James, but rather greedily absorbing your touch. This felt like a big deal, you almost never saw Remus hold anyone. 

“Don’t feel bad.” You pleaded. “Everything’s fine now.” You rubbed his back in a way you hoped was soothing. You felt him relax in your arms. 

“Okay stop hogging them.” Sirius tugged Remus out of the way, making him grunt in dissatisfaction. (You pretended to not notice the sneaky kiss Sirius pressed to the taller boy’s knuckles.) “It’s my turn.” He grabbed you with loving aggression. 

“I wasn’t hogging.” Remus quipped. 

“Yeah, you were.” Sirius sassed. “Besides, I was the biggest idiot. I need to give the biggest cwtch.” His reasoning was flawed, but you settled into him nonetheless. 

#poly!marauders x reader #poly!marauders x you #poly!marauders fluff #poly!marauders angst #marauders #marauders fanfiction #poly!marauders #drabble #marauders fandom #james potter #sirius black #remus lupin #marauders era #the marauders #the maruaders #the marauders era #james potter x reader #sirius black x reader #remus lupin x reader #oneshot #angst #angst with a happy ending #anon ask #anon request

[once-upon-an-imagine]

You're Still The One - Sirius Black

A/N: ahh! well here it is! I really hope you loves like it as much as the preview! so, here we go!

Requests: - Anonymous asked: Sirius x Potter!sister where she raises Harry and they reunite once he’s out of Azkaban but she has to tell him that he’s a father too (up to you if they had a son or daughter) - twilightlover2007 asked: I would love to see post-askaban Sirius with a single mama(witch or muggle). The little one could be hers or she adopted the child when her friends were killed, thinking the little one is 6months to a year and when able to walk the little one just FOLLOWS Sirius everywhere. Even bumping into his legs when he stops walking suddenly. His own little duckling! Please and thank you!

Warnings: this is very much AU because Sirius gets out of Azkaban earlier and Remus was kinda working his case and visiting him there, so if you don't like that then, this is not the story for you xD, also mentions of sex and I think that's it but let me know if I missed anything!

Disclaimer: I don’t own Harry Potter :) gif isn’t mine :D  

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You're Still The One

You’re still the one I run to The one that I belong to You’re still the one I want for life

“Hey, Remus, do you have any milk? I ran out and didn’t have time to go to the store-”

As soon as you walked into Remus’ home, Sirius instantly froze when he heard your voice. That beautiful voice he hadn’t heard in three years. It wasn’t something unusual for you to walk into the next house as casually as you did. But this wasn’t the way it was supposed to go. Sirius was still getting ready to see you. Which is why, when you came back up, the milk bottle slipped out of your hand and broke down on the floor as soon as you saw someone standing in the living room— a half-naked someone covered in tattoos, who definitely wasn’t Remus.

“Love” Sirius smiled, looking at you. The same smile he always had when he looked at you. He was about to walk your way, but you quickly grabbed what was nearest to you, which happened to be the newspaper on the table. You cursed silently for leaving your wand in your own kitchen. “What are you gonna do? Kill a spider-?”

“Who are you?”

“Bambi, it’s me-” he started, but you backed away.

“No! Do not call me that! It can’t be you! Y-you’re not here!” you said, feeling your eyes welling up.

He couldn’t be here. Sirius was in Azkaban. You knew that. You hadn’t seen him in three years. He couldn’t be just standing here in the middle of Remus’ living room.

“Sweetheart, I can explain-”

“REMUS!”

“What?” you heard Remus’ voice coming downstairs with clothes for Sirius. “Oh shit” he muttered when he spotted you.

“What the fuck is going on?” you asked, still with the newspaper in front of you.

“Calm down, okay?”

“Calm down!?”

“Bambi-”

“Shut up! Don’t call me that!” you said, turning to Sirius with your paper and he placed his hands up in surrender.

“Okay, put the paper down” Remus said, walking closer to you and pointing his wand to clean up the milk on the floor. "Just calm down, and listen to me, okay?"

"I'm listening..."

"Are you calmed?" Remus asked.

"...I'm listening" you repeated.

“Look, first of all, please don’t be mad at Moony, okay? I asked him not to tell you I was getting out until we were sure” Sirius insisted.

“Oh, and just how long were the two of you in on this?”

Sirius and Remus exchanged a look you had seen too many times back at Hogwarts before Remus responded.

“Two months” he said, taking a few steps back when you were going to hit him with the paper again but Sirius got in the middle.

“TWO MONTHS! You have been in touch with Sirius and you knew he was getting out and you hid this from me for two months?! You knew all this time and you didn’t tell me? You kept the love of my life away from me?”

“So, I’m still the love of your life?”

“I don’t know! I’m still mad at you!”

“What? Why are you mad at me for? Be mad at Moony!”

“Oi! You just told her not to be mad at me!”

“I know but I’d rather have her be mad at you than me!”

“Enough!” you yelled, making the two of them look at you. “One of you just… tell me what the bloody hell is going on!”

“I didn’t do it, love” Sirius told you.

“Well, I obviously know that part” you frowned.

“Y-you do?”

“I told you” Remus repeated, rolling his eyes. “Look, I didn’t want to tell you until we were certain and we could actually have enough to get him out” Remus explained.

“Why are you two looking at me like that? The last time you looked at me like that, you told me Remus was a werewolf” you said, nervously.

“It was Peter” Remus told you.

“W-what?” you asked, feeling your heart drop. You slowly sat down on Remus’ kitchen table. The two friends looked at each other and sat down with you. “B-but Peter’s dead-”

“He’s not” Sirius told you. “We decided, James and I…” he said, noticing the pained expression on your face when he mentioned your brother. “I suggested Peter should be the Secret-Keeper and not me. We didn’t tell anyone” he explained. “I- I didn’t think he would-” he choked as a few tears ran down his face. “I am so sorry, love” he said, trying to grab your hand but you quickly pulled it away.

“James would have told me” you said, not really knowing what else to think. You always knew it wasn’t Sirius. It couldn’t have been. You knew Sirius would die before he’d let anything happen to James or Lily. But you couldn’t believe it was Peter either. “H-how come none of us knew?”

“We thought it was best that way” Sirius confessed. “After… what happened” he continued. “I tracked Peter down and when I cornered him, he yelled for the whole street to hear that I’d betrayed Lily and James. Then, before I could curse him, he blew apart the street with the wand behind his back, killed everyone within twenty feet of himself- and sped down into the sewer with the other rats” he explained.

“Scabbers” you muttered. “He’s been hiding as Scabbers this whole time?” you said as more tears ran down your face.

“I didn’t want to tell you because I had to find him first” Remus told you. “I couldn’t get Sirius out if they still thought Peter was dead” he explained.

“So you-” you said, looking at Remus. “Y-you found him? You found Peter?”

“I did” Remus nodded.

“And he’s-?”

“He is” Sirius assured you.

“H-how long have you known it was Peter?” you asked Remus, who nervously looked at Sirius.

“Since the night Sirius was taken away” Remus replied and you only nodded.

“D-do you have any other questions, love?” Sirius asked.

“What time is it?” you questioned, getting up. “I have to go back and make breakfast and-”

“I’ll take care of that” Remus said, getting up too. “I think there’s still a lot you two need to talk about he said, looking between you and Sirius before he pulled you closer to him as Sirius went back to get the clothes Remus had brought for him. “He doesn’t know” he informed you and your eyes widened in surprise.

“Y-you didn’t tell him?”

“I couldn’t” Remus admitted. “Look, I know you begged me a million times to take you to see him-”

“You always said no!”

“Yes, because he made me promise to never take you there and he’s right. You don’t ever want to see that horrible place” he said. “And you wouldn’t want to see him that way” he continued. “He was completely shattered, and the biggest part that was killing him was that he had failed you and Harry. So, I didn’t have the heart to tell him there was someone else. It would have killed him” he explained.

“Okay” you nodded.

You knew it wasn’t Remus’ story to tell. You had to do that. It just made you incredibly anxious but when you looked back at Sirius, you felt the same butterflies you did so many years ago. This was Sirius. Your Sirius.

“It’ll be okay, love” Remus said, kissing the side of your head. “I’ll be next door when you’re ready” he smiled.

“Thanks, Rem” you smiled back at him, giving him a hug.

“Just please don’t have sex on my bed… again” he muttered, making you push him off.

“No promises” you chuckled.

“I mean it, Potter!” you heard him yell as he left.

“What’s he on about?” Sirius asked as you entered the living room.

“He doesn’t want us to have sex on his bed” you told him. “Again.”

“Well, there goes my question to know if you wanted to go have sex on Moony’s bed again” he said, raising his eyebrow suggestively at you and making you chuckle slightly.

“I think we scarred him for life when he walked in on us in school” you reminded him, making him laugh. Merlin, how you had missed his laugh. You slowly walked closer to Sirius and sat on the sofa too.

“Hi, sunshine” he smiled at you.

“Hi” you said shyly, playing with your hands, which Sirius knew meant you were nervous. He slowly reached out and held your hand in his. “I’m sorry” you smiled, shedding a few tears and squeezing his hand tighter.

“Why are you sorry, love?”

“I don’t know” you chuckled. “For threatening you with a newspaper?”

“It’s not the first time” he reminded you before you threw your arms around his shoulders and he quickly wrapped his around your waist, bringing you closer.

“I missed you so much” you said, clinging on to him, feeling that they would rip him away from you again at any second.

“I missed you too, my love” he said, feeling his eyes watering as well.

“I-” you said, sighing. “How-” you stuttered. “I- um-”

“I’m fine, love” he assured you, knowing that’s what you wanted to ask him. “I’m here with you and I’m gonna be fine, and that’s all that matters, okay?”

“I knew you didn’t do it” you said, with your voice breaking a little. Sirius pulled you away and cupped your cheeks with his hands. “You know that, right?”

“Of course, I know that, sweetheart” he assured you. “You and Harry were the only thing keeping me sane in that place” he said. “I knew I had to make my way back to the two of you” he smiled.

“S-Sirius-”

“Oh, and Moony, if he asks, I mean” he smiled. “How is Harry? He’s about four now, right?”

“He is, b-but um, Sirius-”

“Merlin, I am dying to see him! I bet he looks just like…” he stopped, not wanting to mention James’ name again and make you upset. “Um… does he- uh… does he know about me?”

“He does” you nodded, making him smile brightly at you. “But… um… Sirius, there’s… something we need to talk about” you said, nervously.

“Oh, I… well, I understand if you don’t want me to see him… right away, I mean, I don’t want to come back here and expect you to change your whole life for me. That’s regarding us as well, I mean, I guess we should have that conversation-”

“Sirius!” you said, getting up and walking away from him. You took a deep breath and tried to calm yourself down. “I know that… there’s a lot of things that we have to discuss and talk about but… um…” you said, looking away and sitting down on the coffee table in front of him. “There’s something very important that I need to tell you” you said feeling extremely anxious.

“What’s wrong, love?” he asked, worriedly. “Is it about Harry? Do you not want me to see him yet?” he said. “Cause I would understand if-”

“No, um, is not about that” you said. “Well, I mean, it is, but… umm… Sirius” you said, taking a deep breath as he held your hands in his. “There’s… there’s someone else” you said, making him let go of your hands instantly.

“Oh” he said, with his expression stiffening a little as he felt his heart shatter into a million pieces. “I uh-” he cleared his throat. “Well, I uh-” he said, brushing a hand through his hair frustrated. “I didn’t think you’d be waiting for me and- I um-”

“W-what? No! Sirius, that is not what I mean!” you said, grabbing his hands again and he looked at you, still a bit unsure. “Sirius… you are the love of my life” you said, with a few tears rolling down your cheeks again. “That was never going to change. I would have always been waiting for you” you assured him. “What I meant was is… there’s someone else… other than Harry” you added.

“W-what do you mean?”

“Um… a few weeks after they took you away I… I found out I was pregnant” you informed him.

“Y-you-? W-what?” he asked, looking stunned. “Y-you- um- we, we have a child?” he asked, feeling his heart beating incredibly fast and breaking at the same time.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner, I… didn’t really know how. And Remus wouldn’t let me go with him-”

“No!” he snapped a little, bringing you closer to him. “I never wanted you to go there or see me like that” he said, cupping your cheek with his hand. “Sweetheart, I am so sorry you had to go through this all by yourself! I- I wasn’t here for you! I-”

“No, Sirius, you don’t have to be sorry” you assured him.

“I can’t believe we have a kid” he said with a beautiful smile appearing on his face and you gently grabbed his hand from your cheek.

“Her name is Lyra” you said, making Sirius’ heart stop again as he felt tears rolling down his cheeks.

“We have a girl?” he asked, choking a little and you nodded, smiling.

“Would you like to meet her?”

“R-really?”

“I know there’s still a million things we have to talk about but, if you want to, I would love for you to see Harry and meet Lyra” you said getting up and pulling him with you. “Ready?” you started walking towards the door but Sirius didn’t move. “Sirius?”

“D-do you think they’ll like me?” he asked worriedly, warming your heart. You cupped his cheek and smiled at him.

“They’re gonna love you” you assured him. “They already do. Harry has always been dying to know his uncle Padfoot” you informed him. “I told him he was traveling around the world so he’s probably going to ask you a billion questions” you said, smiling. “And he’s always telling Lyra how cool you are” you added. “She smiles a lot when she sees your picture” you explained. “I told you, I knew you didn’t do it” you said. “And I was not going to let Harry or your daughter grow up thinking you were a-” you choked, not able to finish that sentence. You were never able to. You never believed Sirius would kill your brother and his wife. He would have died before let anything happen to them.

“I love you” he said, hugging you closer to him. “I love you so much” he said with tears streaming down his face as he brought you closer, kissing your forehead.

“I love you too” you smiled, wiping away his tears before you pulled him closer and kissed him. It felt like every single time you had kissed Sirius. It didn’t matter what else the two of you had to discuss. Your feelings hadn’t changed. You knew that. Sirius was the love of your life. And now, he was back.

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

As soon as Sirius walked into the house next door to Remus’, he instantly felt at home, just like he did when he ran away to your parents’ house all those years ago. Except it was a lot cozier and it certainly had your touch everywhere.

“Please don’t mind the mess” you smiled nervously at him as you started grabbing some things and finding your wand somewhere so you quickly fixed everything up. “I would have cleaned up but- um… well, I wasn’t really expecting-”

Sirius cut you off by giving you a peck on the lips. “Please don’t ever apologize for that. Not to me, love” he insisted and you smiled back at him.

“Harry, are you up, sweetie?” you asked, hearing noise coming from the kitchen.

“I’m in here, Aunt Bambi” you heard. You were about to walk over there but Sirius pulled you back.

“Aunt Bambi?” he asked with an arched eyebrow.

“He kept pestering me one day asking why Moony had a nickname, his father had a nickname and you had a nickname, and I didn’t, so Remus told him you used to call me Bambi, and… it kind of stuck with him” you explained.

“I’m glad you kept hearing that nickname you claim to hate so much” he smirked.

“It kinda grew on me” you admitted, rolling your eyes a little. “Hi sweetheart” you said, spotting Harry with chocolate all over his face.

“Uncle Moony made chocolate chip pancakes!” he said, excitedly.

“I can see that” you chuckled, walking over to him and cleaning his face. “And where is Uncle Moony?”

“He’s upstairs, changing Lyra” he replied as you finished cleaning him up.

“Um, honey, I would like you to meet someone” you said as Sirius stood at the entrance. You saw Harry’s face light up as he got off the stool and ran over to him.

“UNCLE PADFOOT!”

“Hey, bud” Sirius said, kneeling to pick Harry up. “You’re so big now!”

“It’s so cool that you’re here!” Harry said excitedly. “Uncle Moony has told me so many stories about you!” he said, making Sirius smile back at you. “What are you doing home?”

“Well, bud, I guess I just… missed you all so much” he said, kissing Harry’s head before putting him down.

“Do you want to see my broom? Aunt Bambi says it’s just like the one you and dad had, but she never lets me fly it-!”

“Hey, that’s not true” you complained.

“She won’t teach me Quidditch either-!”

“That’s because I don’t play Quidditch and neither does your Uncle Moony” you reminded him.

“But you said Uncle Padfoot played” he said, excitedly before turning back to Sirius. “Would you teach me?”

“Of course, I would” Sirius said, feeling his eyes water a little.

“Are you okay, Uncle Padfoot?” Harry asked a bit confused.

“Yeah, mate. I’m fine” he said, giving him another big hug. “I just… missed you so much” he said, with his voice breaking a little.

“Why don’t you go get your broom, love? I’m sure your uncle Padfoot would love to see it” you said, kissing his forehead.

“Yes! I will be right back!” he said excitedly, jumping up and down before he ran upstairs.

“You okay?” you asked, Sirius who was still looking Harry’s way.

“He just…” he said with a few tears rolling down his cheeks. “He looks so much like…”

“James, I know” you finished for him, pulling him closer. “He has Lily’s eyes though” you smiled.

“He does” Sirius said, kissing your temple. “I’m so sorry, love” he said, making you look at him a bit confused. “I’m so sorry I wasn’t here for you” he said, cupping your cheek. “I-” he sighed. “How-” he stuttered. “I- um-”

“I’m okay” you smiled sweetly. “I mean, there are good days… and not-so-good days” you admitted. “I just miss him” you said with a few tears falling from your eyes. “And I hate that he and Lily aren’t here to see Harry” you said.

“I know, love” Sirius said, wiping away your tears and hugging you to him.

“Hey” you heard Remus walking down the stairs with someone in his arms. You pulled away from Sirius and walked over to them.

“Good morning, my love” you said, taking the toddler from Remus’ arms.

“Mummy” she smiled brightly at you as you kissed her cheek.

Sirius felt like his heart was going to explode. He had no idea how he could love you even more. Or how he could love someone at first sight. And there you were, holding the most beautiful girl he had ever seen in his entire life. She was the other way than Harry. She looked just like you, but she had his deep grey eyes.

“Sweetheart, I’d like you to meet someone” you told her as you walked back over to Sirius. “Sirius, this is Lyra” you said, as Sirius felt his entire heart melting when Lyra smiled shyly at him. “Can you say, hi, honey?” you asked as she waved her little hand at Sirius.

“H-hi” she said, resting her head on your shoulder.

“Hi, Lyra” Sirius said, as new tears rolled down his cheeks. “You are so beautiful” he smiled.

“Uncle Moony says I look like mum” she said.

“You do” Sirius nodded. “You’re just as beautiful as her” he smiled.

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

“I made this for Uncle Padfoot, do you think he’ll like it?” Harry asked you, showing the new drawing of him with Sirius.

It had been a few weeks since Sirius was back and each day, both kids were getting more attached to him. He was basically Harry’s new favorite person, and you couldn’t blame him. Harry spent the entire day asking him questions about James, playing Quidditch, and Sirius basically doing whatever he wanted, and spoiling him with gifts.

And then, there was Lyra. at first, she was a bit shy but it wasn’t long before she started warming up to him. Every single time Sirius appeared in a room, you saw your daughter’s face lighting up just as much as his did. She followed him everywhere. She cried whenever Sirius had to leave again because he was still staying with Remus since he said he didn’t want to turn your life upside down or the kids’ lives for that matter by him being back.

And it was no secret that Sirius was instantly wrapped around Lyra’s little finger. You could tell he loved Harry as much as you did. He was practically becoming his best friend and he loved spending time with him. But Lyra had brought something out in Sirius that you had never seen before. Which is why, you wanted to ask him to move in with the three of you. Firstly, because he was practically living here already. He came in before the kids woke up and he left when they were tucked in. Mostly so Lyra wouldn’t cry when he left. But also because you had missed him so much, and now he was back. And you wanted him back. With you.

“I’m sure he’ll love it, sweetheart” you said, kissing Harry’s head as he and Lyra had breakfast on the kitchen counter.

“Are you going to marry Uncle Padfoot?” he suddenly asked, making you choke on the coffee you were drinking.

“W-what?”

“I asked Uncle Moony if you and Uncle Padfoot were married but he said no” he said, casually. “I think you two should be married” he shrugged.

“Why do you think that, love?” you asked, as you fed Lyra.

“Because you’re my godmother and he’s my godfather” he said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“W-well, I’ll… think about that” you smiled. “But… how would you guys feel if um- uncle Padfoot comes stay with us?”

“You mean live here?” Harry asked, excitedly.

“Yes” you nodded.

“With us?”

“Yes” you repeated.

“Where would he stay?” he asked, curiously.

“Um, well… he would stay with me” you explained.

“So, you are getting married?”

“I don’t know, Harry, I mean, I would have to ask him first” you chuckled.

“Uncle Moony said he asked you” he replied.

“What? Stop talking to your Uncle Moony!” you complained.

“Uncle Moony” Lyra repeated, smiling.

“Look, I will talk to Sirius today and I will ask him if he’d like to live with us” you explained. “So, I wanted to know what you guys think about it” you smiled.

“Really?”

“Yes, because we are a team. And you two are the most important people in my life” you said, poking each on their noses. “So… what do you think?”

“We love Uncle Padfoot!” Harry insisted. “Right, Lyra?”

“Yes!” she smiled, looking up at him.

“Okay, then. I guess I’m going to have to ask Uncle Padfoot” you smiled, nervously.

“Ask Uncle Padfoot what?” you heard Sirius walking in on the back door. “You monkeys are already up?” he said, messing Harry’s hair with his hand and picking up Lyra from her chair, kissing her cheek.

“Aunt Bambi wants to ask you to marry her so you can come live with us!” Harry said, excitedly.

“Harry!” you widened your eyes, feeling your cheeks burning instantly.

“W-what?” Sirius asked, looking at you.

“We want you to mawy mummy” Lyra repeated.

“Okay, that’s enough” you said, taking her from Sirius and placing her back on her seat. “Um, Sirius, could I see you in the other room for a moment?”

“Sure. Lead the way, Bambi” he smirked.

“Bambi” Lyra giggled.

“So, what’s this I hear about you wanting to marry me and move in with you?”

“Shut up, Black, and stop looking at me like that!”

“Oh, it’s Black now” he smirked. “I see you’re really riled up, Potter” he chuckled.

“Look, I just… wanted to ask you…” you started, avoiding his eyes. You knew he was enjoying this.

“Yes?”

“Well, I was thinking about the possibility of you… moving in with us?”

“That’s not what your kids said” he smiled.

“First of all, they’re your kids too” you glared at him. “And secondly, it’s only because Harry asked if we were going to get married” you explained.

“Really?”

“Yes, he thinks we should because you’re his godfather and I’m his godmother” you told him.

“Kid’s got a point” he said.

“Sirius! I’m not joking!”

“Neither am I” he said, dropping his smile and looking at you.

“What?”

“I don’t see why we shouldn’t get married” he shrugged. “I asked you before. You said yes” he reminded you.

“That was three years ago. A lot has changed since then-”

“Well, my feelings for you, haven’t” he clarified. “Have yours?”

“No, of course not!”

“I’m not saying we have to do it right away” he told you, smiling sweetly. “I’m just saying… if you’d ask… I’d say yes” he said.

“You think I’m going to ask you?”

“Why not? I asked you last time! It’s only fair, love!” he mocked you as you crossed your arms in front of your chest with a raised eyebrow. “You know, I forgot how cute you looked when you were mad” he said, pulling you closer. “I’m not going anywhere, love” he said, cupping your cheek with his hand. “You are the love of my life. You always have been. And you, Harry, and Lyra are the only thing that matters to me” he continued. “And Moony, if he asks” he said, making you chuckle. “Look, I’ve missed three years already and I don’t want to miss another second” he said, making you smile. “So, I will ask you, however you want me to, whenever you want me to, as many times as you’d like me to, my love” he said, wrapping his arms around your waist and you gave him a peck on the lips.

“I love you” you said, smiling.

“I love you too” he said, kissing you again. “You wanna go tell the kids?”

“Yeah, might as well” you said, kissing his cheek and pulling him towards the kitchen where the two of you saw Harry helping Lyra get down from her seat. Sirius felt you stop at the entrance and he grabbed your hand. He noticed the look on your face. In the past weeks, he noticed you getting that look whenever Harry was with Lyra.

“Harry’s a really good big brother” he said, kissing the side of your head.

“Yeah” you smiled. “He doesn’t just look like James” you said, resting your head on his shoulder.

“He’d be really proud of you, you know that, right? So, would Evans” he told you. “They picked right” he smiled.

“Yeah” you said, kissing his cheek. “They did” you told him. 

The End

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

A/N: I hope you loves liked it! and I hope this keeps rolling xD I have a few 9-1-1 imagines coming up, and also Stranger Things, and/or Remus, James hopefully!

tags: @twilightlover2007 , @hisparentsgallerryy

#marauders #marauders imagine #sirius black #sirius black imagine #sirius black x reader #sirius black oneshot

[moonstruckme]

A Christmas Special

summary: after Christmas Eve at Remus' flat, thick snowfall prevents you from going home. He's more than happy to host you

cw: mentions of alcohol, smut mdni, p in v, oral (fem receiving), praise, inexperienced reader, shy little idiots in love

Remus Lupin x fem!reader ♡ 11k words

Remus isn’t sure entirely how he’d gotten strongarmed into hosting Christmas Eve at his flat. James and Lily usually host, but James claimed that this year their house was in too much a state of “baby mayhem” to have any hope of being tidied enough for a gathering. He’s said it in such a lovesick voice Remus couldn’t push back for long, his friend’s happiness so potent it was like looking into the sun. Sirius had begged off quickly, saying that his “bachelor pad” was too small to have a group over. As usual, when Remus spoke last, the matter was settled before he’d gotten the chance to have much of a say. 

He’s made an effort to live up to the hosting legacy passed onto him by the Potters, but it’s a flimsy attempt at best. Thankfully, the snowfall outside is doing a fair amount of the work for him. Remus’ street is coated in fresh, gleaming powder, enough that the trees look weighted down with it and his neighbor had put her little dog in a knit sweater to go into the yard and do its business. It’s still coming down, the snowflakes visible in crisp contrast against the darkening sky as they drift lazily to the earth. 

Inside Remus’ home, the Christmas tree is nearly covered in tinsel to make up for his scant supply of ornaments, he’s run out of stockings to put up above the fireplace and has had to use one large sock (that one will have to be for Sirius), and he’s still stringing up popcorn when a knock sounds on the door. 

Remus is surprised (he’d told everyone to come at six, but that was only because he didn’t think anyone would actually show up until a couple hours after), but that dies away when he unbolts the door and opens it to find you on the other side. 

“Hi,” you say, teeth nearly chattering as Remus ushers you inside. “Sorry I’m late, traffic was worse than I expected.” 

“It’s hardly fifteen after six.” Remus takes your coat, tsking. “People do seem to become worse drivers around the holidays, don’t they?” 

“Well, I suppose not everyone on the road tonight might be used to driving in the snow,” you allow, ever forgiving. 

Remus smiles. “Merry Christmas, love.” 

Your face is already flushed from the chill outside, but he could swear it goes pinker as you unwrap your scarf, smiling back at him. “Merry Christmas.” You’re merry as can be, cheeks dimpling and eyes sparkling under the twinkling lights Remus is suddenly very glad he decided to purchase for the occasion. “Where is everyone?” 

“Well,” Remus says, heading back for the couch, “Sirius is hitching a ride with James and Lily, so if I had to guess I’d wager that James is just putting the finishing touches whatever food he’s decided to bring while Lily tries to rush him out the door. And then they’ll go to Sirius’ place and have to wait for him to finish wrapping the presents he undoubtedly just remembered today.” 

You sit beside him with a half-exasperated laugh. “I was thinking I’d be the last one here,” you admit, “but I’d forgotten how they can be when it comes to events.” 

Remus shrugs. “Easy to forget.” Lily is usually able to marshal James and Sirius most places on time these days, but the frenzy when they actually have things to prepare is inevitable; Remus has learnt to account for it. He reclaims his half-finished string of popcorn, clumsily stabbing the needle into another kernel and wincing when it goes through easier than expected, pricking his finger. 

“Oh no, did you hurt yourself?” you lean over, trying to see his hand. 

“No, just a scratch.” Remus has about a billion of them by now. He’s far from coordinated on a good day, but the unwise decision to have coffee earlier has resulted in shaky hands that make working with a needle somewhat hazardous. 

You watch him try again, and it’s really the distraction of your cute frown more than anything else that messes him up. His needle goes through the fluffy edge of the popcorn, stabbing him and giving the string hardly anything to hold onto in the process. The flake falls to his lap for his efforts. 

“Remus, your hand’s not a pincushion,” you say, and you weren’t yourself he’d almost think you were chiding him. You reach over, taking the needle and thread from him. “Here, let me do that.” 

“I didn’t mean for you to come here early so I could put you to work,” Remus protests, watching as you string up the next piece of popcorn with nimble fingers. Jealousy wars with admiration, but his esteem for you wins out. “You’ll never come back for New Year’s if this is what you have to look forward to.” 

You smile down at your hands. “Sure I will. You’ll still be there, won’t you? And I really don’t mind helping, it gives me something to do.” 

Remus smiles back even though you’re not looking. “Alright, well I guess that means I can start rolling out the gingerbread dough. Thanks, love.” He touches his hand lightly to the crown of your head as he stands, letting the urge to press a kiss there pass as quickly as it arises. He goes into the kitchen and a second later you decide to follow. Popcorn swishes against the floor behind you as you make your way over to the bar counter, sitting on a stool with the string trailing all the way back to the couch. 

“You’re making gingerbread cookies?” you ask, watching with eager eyes as he plops the dough onto the floured counter, rolling it flat. 

“Mhm. You like them?” 

“Never had one.” 

Remus feels his eyebrows inch upwards. “Seriously?” 

You look almost sheepish, as though this is a crime which you expect to be held against you. Honestly, you’re not far off; had James been here, you would have been questioned and scolded to hell and back, and then he would’ve made Remus give you some dough to try, salmonella be damned. 

“No,” you answer him. “We made ornaments of them in school, once, but we weren’t allowed to eat them. I always thought they were so cute, though, with the little people cutouts.” 

“They’re the best,” Remus agrees, pressing out the shapes and laying them on the baking sheet. “If you finish that quickly enough, I might even let you help me cut out a few.” 

“Yes!” you cheer, and he laughs as you start working quicker with the needle. 

“Don’t hurt yourself. The privilege of cookie cutting is not actually contingent on your labor.” 

“I know,” you say, but your hands don’t slow. Remus has barely finished filling his second baking sheet before you’re done, having made more progress in the last twenty minutes than he had over nearly an hour. 

Remus’ hip touches yours as he shows you how to give the cookie cutters a little shake in the dough, freeing the shape before lifting it and placing it on the sheet. It’s not a painfully difficult task, and still he’s impressed by how quickly you catch on. You’re a machine of efficiency. You seem to enjoy rolling out the dough almost as much as pressing out the shapes, falling into a quick, happy rhythm. Before long you’ve pushed Remus out of the way (Lily would be proud, he thinks), urging him to go and hang up the popcorn garland before everyone else arrives. 

You haven’t seen each other in over a month, both of you caught up in the hustle and bustle of the season, and you catch up as you work on your separate tasks. Remus talks to you about his job, the students who plague him and the ones he wishes he could take home after work each day, and how none of them had liked the film he’d put on the day before break. (“Mister Magoo’s is a classic!” you protest as Remus shakes his head. “They’re too young to get it,” he says. “Our classics are just old to them.”) You tell him about your new cat, and the sweater you’d crocheted her for the holiday which she despises above all else, and he promises to come over sometime soon to meet her. 

You’ve poured yourselves spiked eggnog and sampled a few ginger cookies (“They’re twice as good when they’re fresh,” Remus says. “Don’t let the others’ tardiness rob you of the experience.”) by the time the door bursts open again, Sirius of course not bothering to knock. 

“Hello!” he calls from somewhere behind a tower of presents. “Merry holiday to you, Moony!” 

You get up to help, and so Remus is compelled to do so as well, taking a couple sloppily-wrapped boxes from Sirius’ arms. 

“Merlin, it smells good in here,” James declares as he comes through the door, Lily carrying a beaming baby Harry on her hip behind him. James’ eyes fall on you. “Aw, you beat us here?”

Remus scoffs, setting down the gifts by the tree and leaving you to arrange them as you see fit. “Not a very difficult task, when you’re over an hour late,” he says. “You’re lucky Y/N’s good company, or I’d be more cross with you.” 

“Sorry,” Lily says as Sirius makes a dismissive sound, flopping onto the couch. “We had some trouble fitting everything in the car with Harry’s seat, and then Sirius—” she shoots him a glare, and he grins like she’s sweetly cooed his name “—wouldn’t leave without his hat, even though he’d lost it.” 

“One only gets to wear one’s elf hat every so often,” Sirius justifies, unperturbed. “I wasn’t going to miss the occasion even if it took me all night to find it.” 

“It nearly did,” Lily shoots back, but then James is at her side, having discarded his load of food and presents and now vying to hold Harry. 

“Come here, my handsome little guy.” 

“Used to call me that,” Sirius quips with his mouth full of gingerbread cookies, a heaping plate seeming to have found its way into his lap. 

Remus isn’t going to smile at that poor attempt at a joke, but once you laugh he can’t help it. 

“Only on special occasions,” James replies, taking Harry under the arms and hoisting him into the air. Harry laughs, and it’s probably the most contagious thing Remus has ever heard. Everyone smiles; James most of all, grinning ear to ear as he does it again. 

“He never lets me hold him,” Lily complains fondly. 

“Because I know how much you like seeing me with him,” James says breezily, making a face at Harry above him. “You’re mad with lust right now, Evans, don’t try to deny it.” 

“Sleaze,” Sirius says to him, the bell on his hat jingling when he tilts his head.

“I know you are, but what am I?” 

“I,” Remus says, “am hungry. And I’ll bet Y/N is too, since she’s very politely refrained from snacking much while we waited for you lot.” 

James' attention actually leaves his son for half a second to look at you and see if what Remus says is true, and you go instantly bashful. It doesn’t seem to matter how long you’re friends with them; having attention drawn to you will always bring some color to your cheeks. Lily comes to your rescue, ushering you into the kitchen like she needs somewhere to channel her mother hen urges while James is monopolizing Harry. 

“I hope you really are hungry,” she says, “because James has made enough bhaji to feed us all for a month.”

❆ ❆ ❆

Soon even James is stuffed and you’re all a bit tipsy on eggnog. Some of your natural anxiety fades as everything starts to feel slower and more fluid, your insides warm and soft as wax. 

“No, because it was so obvious,” Sirius says. He’s telling a story of a girl he’d seen at a coffee shop that he’s sure was enamored with him. James, naturally, agrees completely, but Lily and Remus aren’t so sure. “She did the—the thing. Y/N, back me up. When a girl makes eye contact with you and then looks off to the side, it means she’s not interested, but when she looks down, it’s because she’s nervous, right?”

You raise your eyebrows. “I think you made that up,” you tell him, tiny bits of laughter running in between your words. “Anyway, is her being nervous necessarily a good thing?” 

“She was nervous because she’s obsessed with me,” Sirius insists. 

“Or,” Remus says, “she was nervous because you were staring at her, and she thought you were going to follow her outside.” 

“And probably kill her,” Lily agrees. 

James’ eyebrows shoot up. “Merlin, you two are dark. Our Padfoot’s not putting out murderous vibes. He’s got too much boyish charm.” 

Sirius nods appreciatively, but Lily only shrugs, careful not to jostle Harry where he’s sleeping on her lap. “Girls have to think of those things.” 

“Gross,” James says, looking slightly troubled as he kisses the side of his wife’s head. “Well, I think she was in love with you, Pads.”

“Yeah,” Remus rolls his eyes, “he should show up at her house and find out. It’d be romantic.”

“And on that note,” James goes on, ignoring him, “shall we do presents?”

You all agree, and Sirius looks at James with an older brother’s entitlement. “Go ahead and distribute them, Prongsie.” 

James, well used to this, doesn’t even question it, scampering back and forth between the tree (which you can’t help but notice is somewhat lacking in the ornament department but quite sparkly) to deliver your presents at your feet. After a few rounds of this, you can’t stand it anymore and get up to help, laughing through the protests of your remaining three friends. (“He’s got it, love,” Remus says, and Sirius adds, “He’s got energy he needs to run off anyway.”) Between the two of you, the bottom of the Christmas tree is bare within a couple of minutes, small piles of presents next to each of your friends. You go to sit back by the pile meant for you, touched at the fact that you have a box from every person there. 

“S’not fair that James and Lily get to do couple’s presents now,” Sirius complains. “I’m going to start buying gifts for you like you’re one person, see how you like it.” 

The biggest pile is obviously for Harry, and you all start there, no small amount of eagerness in James’ expression as he tears open the first box. “The Velveteen Rabbit,” he reads aloud. “Wow, this is kinda hefty for a children’s book.” 

“Who’s it from?” Lily prompts, as if you don’t all already know. 

“Shit, I forgot to check.” 

“And that’s why we read the box,” Lily says slowly, and you get the sense this is a conversation that’s happened more than once, “before we start ripping, honey.” 

“It was me,” Remus volunteers, lips pulling into a half-smile. 

“Course it was,” James says, taking a break from sticking his tongue out at his wife to smile at Remus. “Thanks, Moony.” 

“You had the opportunity to get him Goodnight Moon,” Sirius tsks, “and you just let it pass you by.” 

Remus rolls his eyes, but then Lily says, “He already has that one,” and you watch as he tries and fails to suppress the shy smile that takes him. It shifts the scars on his cheek and lights his eyes with a warm tenderness. 

He looks especially pretty under the Christmas lights, you think. The warm glow suits him, bringing out the amber in his eyes and richening the various brown shades of his hair. It makes his skin look softer too, smooth even where you know he has stubble around his jawline. You want suddenly to reach out and touch it, and you’re glad you’re sitting too far from him to act on the urge. 

You’ve noticed Remus over the years, of course. It’d be impossible not to. You’ve always harbored a tiny crush on him, but you keep it shoved deep down in your gut where it can’t hurt anyone. You think the world of him, but you love your little group of friends more than anything else. You’re not unaware of the fact that Remus is a more crucial fixture in it than you are; if anything happened between you and it made things awkward for everyone, you’d be the one to go. 

“Aw, is this a hat?” Lily pulls something tawny brown from a box, and you realize they’ve gotten to your gift. “Oh my god, it has little antlers!”

You try not to smile too hard as she shows it to James and he coos, taking it from her hands. “No way, he’ll be like our little Prongsie! I’m going to put it on him.” 

“Don’t wake him,” Lily warns, but James waves her off.

“He can sleep through anything,” he says, settling the baby beanie on Harry’s head. Sure enough, he doesn’t stir. 

“Oh, that’s so darling.” Lily presses a hand to her chest. “Y/N, where’d you get this?”

You feel your face heat and hope the lighting is covering your blush. “I made it,” you admit. “I know we’re already well into winter, but I hope he can still use it a little.” 

“Um, he’s never taking it off. Like, ever.” James leans around Lily to press a smacking kiss to your cheek. You laugh, trying not to shrink in on yourself from all the attention. “Thanks, love.” 

Once all the cooing over Harry’s presents is done, the rest of the gift opening proceeds with decidedly less fanfare, though no shortage of gratitude. You get a bunch of purple eyeliners from Sirius (you’d complained to him a few weeks ago that they’d stopped selling your old one, and he’d been thoughtful enough to find you options to help decide upon new one), a cookbook from James and Lily (“Now you can stop eating all those frozen meals,” James tells you with a meaningful look), and a set of mittens from Remus (“They’re alpaca,” he explains. “Supposed to be extra warm, and your hands are always freezing.”). The rest of your gifts are received happily too, and then Remus’ living room is covered with the wrapping paper Lily had tried but eventually given up on getting everyone to put in piles as they went and you’re all starting to yawn. 

“Alright,” Lily says after a while, “it’s well past Harry’s bedtime, and ours, and I’m sure Remus would like his flat back.” 

“Booo.” Sirius lays back on the couch, letting his head loll over the edge of the armrest. “Domestic life has made you lame, Evans-Potter.” 

“Yeah, yeah,” James drawls, gathering Harry against his chest, “I saw you yawning, Pads. Let’s go.” 

You stand with the rest of them, going to find your shoes by the door. “Thanks for everything, Remus,” you say. “It was great.” 

“For a first time hosting,” James allows, jokingly prideful, “I suppose you did a pretty decent job. Big shoes to fill, and all that.” 

Remus smiles as he rolls his eyes, but it falters when his gaze settles on something behind you. “Are you all going to be alright getting home? It looks like it’s really picked up.” 

You follow his stare out the window. He’s not wrong. The unusually thick snowfall you’d arrived in has morphed into something that looks more like a blizzard, the wind whipping white across the black backdrop of sky outside Remus’ flat. 

James looks between the scene outside and his family once before seeming to make a decision. “Yeah, we’ll be alright,” he says, watching Lily as he talks. She nods her approval, and James’ voice becomes more solid. “We don’t have far to drive.”

Remus nods, still looking worried. His brows furrow as he turns to you. “What about you? Are you gonna be okay?”

“Yeah.” It’s the only answer in these situations, though you’re sure Remus would be alright with the alternative if you felt very strongly. “It doesn’t look too bad out there.” 

Remus casts another dubious glance out the window, and a particularly loud gust of wind whooshes past as if to spite you. “Are you sure? It looks pretty bad to me.” 

“Yeah,” James says, “don’t you live a bit far?”

“It’s not that far,” you fib, at the same time as Remus says, “She does.” 

You laugh awkwardly, pulling on your coat “It’s not. Anyway, I’ve driven in a lot worse than this.”

Lily gives you a small smile. “That’s hardly reassuring, babe.”

“You can stay here,” Remus offers, but you’re shaking your head before he’s even gotten the words out. 

“That’s sweet of you, but I can make it home.” You give him your most competent smile. “If I end up driving off the road and have to camp in my car, at least I’ll have fantastic mittens to keep the frostbite from my hands.” 

He gives you a deadpan look. “While I’m glad you’re excited to use my gift, I’d prefer to keep it from coming to that.”

“You can’t get in a crash and die on Christmas,” Sirius says. “It’d be, like, a super huge downer for us every year.” 

“I’ll be fine,” you insist. 

“Shortcake, I don’t care if we have to lock you in here,” James says, frowning in a way that doesn’t look particularly tough when he’s swaying back and forth to rock Harry on his chest. “There’s no way you can drive all the way to your place in this.” 

You roll your eyes good-naturedly, wrapping your scarf.

“Okay, you know I would never usually say this,” Lily says, gnawing on her lip as she watches the snow blow past outside, “but I think you should listen to the boys. It looks too scary out there to drive that far.” 

“It’s…” You look between them, your argument dying of futility on your tongue. James seems prepared to blockade you in Remus’ flat, and even Lily’s giving you a stern look. Your gaze lands on Remus, and the last of your resistance melts away.

“You really should stay here,” he says kindly. “Actually, I’d feel a lot better if you did. Okay?”

You sigh, slipping your scarf back over your head. “Okay.” 

“Phew!” Sirius says, pulling you into a one-armed hug. “Glad that’s settled. See you all soon, thanks for Christmas Moony!” 

“He’s so tired,” Lily says after Sirius is out the door. 

“Wiped,” James agrees, adjusting his grip on Harry so that he can wrap one arm around Remus’ neck. Remus leans down into the awkward hug, begrudgingly fond as he pats his friend on the back, then kisses Lily on the cheek when James moves to you. 

“Thanks for the gifts,” James says, grinning down at Harry’s knit antlers after he releases you. “He’s never taking this off.” 

“He means it.” Lily sends her husband a look as fond as it is weary as she hugs you. “I’ll probably have to bathe Harry when James is asleep so he doesn’t catch him without it.” 

Your face is feeling hot again. “I’m glad you like it,” you say with a little shrug, but your friends are used to your shyness and only smile and wave on their way out. 

And then the door shuts, and you and Remus are left alone in the quiet. 

“Are you tired?” he asks you, moving back into the living room. Lily had sneakily taken care of a good deal of the cleanup, but there’s still a few half-empty glasses of eggnog strewn about which Remus begins gathering. 

“Not really,” you answer honestly, beating him to the sink and forcing him to hand you the glasses to wash. “Are you?”

“No,” he agrees, and the look he shoots you has to be the gentlest form malice has ever taken as he takes up the dish towel and stations himself beside you. “Fancy a film?”

“Mmm, a Christmas film?”

“Obviously.” 

The dishes are finished quickly thanks to Lily’s interference, and Remus makes you some hot cocoa while you scroll through movies, calling out possibilities. The only conflict between you is your equal complaisance to whatever the other prefers, and you eventually settle on the first one you’d seen just to put an end to it. You take your cocoa gladly when Remus passes it to you, blowing gently while he settles a blanket over the both of you, your knees curled towards him and his one leg crossed over the other angling him towards you. 

The first few minutes of the film are spent in that contented quietude that the two of you so often fall into when you’re alone together, but then Remus asks you, “What is it?”

You look over at him. “Hm?”

“You’re frowning.”

“Oh.” You laugh. “I’m just thinking about snow.” 

His lips quirk. “It is kind of the bane of your existence tonight, isn’t it?”

“No.” You smile down at your hands, hoping it's not obvious how not unpleasant you find your circumstances at the moment. “That’s not it. I was thinking, I kind of hate how it always has to snow in these movies. It makes any Christmas where it doesn’t snow feel like it’s not up to par. Or not quintessential enough, or something.”

“Mmm, I see.” Remus looks back to the screen, considering. “Does that make this your quintessential Christmas, then? Are we living up to the movie standard?”

You watch him while he watches the TV, blue light cast over his handsome features. “I guess so,” you say.

The longer you sit there, the closer you get. You blame it on the late hour, your bodies relaxing towards each other on the couch. Remus’ arm brushes yours when he lifts his mug for a sip, and your knees dig into his thigh under the blanket. Soon you’ve drooped enough that you’re leaning nearly entirely against him. You don’t notice until Remus puts an arm around you to encourage your head to his shoulder. You tense but don’t sit up, and eventually his head comes to rest atop yours. 

“Are you crying?” he murmurs during one scene near the end. 

Your reply is equally soft, not wanting to jostle either Remus’ head or his shoulder with your speech movements. “I really like this part.” 

“You know how it ends. It’s going to be okay.” 

“I know.” You sniffle, bringing a hand up to wipe your face now that you’ve been caught. “I know it is. It’s just really profound.” 

“Sure it is.”

“It’s the spirit of Christmas, Remus. Goodwill to man.” 

“Okay.” He rubs your shoulder, and you pretend not to feel his shaking with quiet laughter. “Okay, I agree with you.” 

And awhile later: “You’re tired,” he accuses.

You hum a denial.

“Sweetheart” —your stomach flutters, and there’s a jolt somewhere behind your ribcage; you ignore it— “you’re practically falling asleep right here.”

“Are you tired?” 

He shifts slightly, stubble tickling your forehead. “No. But you are.” 

“I want to finish the movie.” 

He seems to debate this for a moment, then his shoulder relaxes beneath you. “Alright.” 

The credits start, and neither of you move. 

You let your head slump more heavily onto his shoulder. “Your place really does look lovely. Thanks for having me.”

“Of course, love.” You can feel his smile squish up against the top of your head. “Would you go so far as to say my hosting measures up to James’?”

You chuckle, gesturing to yourself. “I’d say you’ve gone above and beyond, for sure.” 

Remus laughs too. “Perfect. Tell him so, would you?”

You’re going to agree when a great yawn takes you. You keep it quiet, but there’s no avoiding the way your chin digs into Remus’ shoulder, your shoulders rising with the prolonged inhale. He moves away from you. 

“Ready for bed?” He smiles down at you as you run a knuckle under your eyes, collecting tears from your lashes. 

You shrug an admittance. “Sort of. But I don’t want to kick you out of your own living room if you’re not tired yet.”

“No, I’m pretty wiped too,” he says. “Anyway, I’m the one kicking you out. You’re staying in my room.” 

You had a feeling he would say something like that. You grab a throw pillow, getting situated with your head near the armrest. “No, I’m not.” 

His laugh is disbelieving. “Yeah, you are. Come on, you’re my guest. I’m not letting you sleep on the couch.” 

You tug the blanket off his lap, curling up with your pillow stubbornly. “I’m not going to steal your bed. You’ve already done so much. You’ve helped me try gingerbread cookies and given me nice mittens and hosted an amazing Christmas. Let me sleep on your couch, please.” 

“While I appreciate all that,” he says, “no.” 

“Remus.” You’re near pleading at this point. “Your back will hurt.”

“Your back will hurt.” 

“Not as badly as yours.” You give him a hard look. “I’m not taking your bed.” 

There’s a brief silence, terser than your usual ones but no more awkward for it. You stare each other down. 

“Right,” Remus says, reclaiming the remote from where he’d set it on the coffee table. “I suppose we’d better start another movie, then.”

“Remus, come on.” You sit up, giving his shoulder a gentle nudge. “You’ve just said you’re tired. Go to bed, please.”

The TV flickers back on. “I’m not leaving this couch.” 

“Well, neither am I,” you laugh, completely serious. 

He rolls his eyes, then snuggles up to you under the blanket. You take this as a sign that he’s not really very cross with you. “You’re much more argumentative than usual tonight, you know that?”

You huff, laying your head back on his shoulder. “I could say the same about you.” 

“True, but I know I’ll win out in the end.” 

“You can think that if you like.” 

“Want to watch this one next?”

“Sure.”

❆ ❆ ❆

Remus watches as your eyes drift closed, then twitch back open, over and over again. He thinks his bony shoulder is the only thing keeping you from falling over the precipice of sleep. If he were James Potter, he’d simply pick you up with ease and carry you to his bed, but Remus can’t say he’s entirely sorry for this extra time with you, even if neither of you are awake enough to make much conversation.

Silly as it sounds, he enjoys just sitting here with you nearly as much as talking. Your cheek squished into his shoulder, your legs curled up atop his, you’re warm and weighty against him. 

He should have known it would be a hopeless endeavor trying to get you to agree to take the bed. You’re a gentle thing by nature, but stubborn in your selflessness. Even if you had gone, Remus knows he wouldn’t have slept all night anyway, too preoccupied with thoughts of you all wrapped up in his sheets, your face pressed to his pillow, getting your shampoo-smell on the pillowcase. He doesn’t know if it smells like him (does he have a smell?), but he would have wondered all night if it does, if you were noticing. 

Your head nearly rolls off his shoulder, and a pitying sound escapes Remus when you jerk awake to set it right. He lets his head rest on yours so it doesn’t happen again. Your eyelids droop closed almost immediately, and Remus begins dragging his thumb over your shoulder blade, a nice, slow back-and-forth. You’re quiet for a long while. 

“Are you trying to put me to sleep?” you murmur, words all sloshed together. 

It’s a conscious effort not to let his thumb slow. “No,” he says. 

You hum. 

“Unless you mean it’s working.” 

Another long silence. “It’s not,” you reply, head growing heavier on his shoulder.  

He chuckles. “Come on, sweetheart. Let’s get you to bed, hm?” 

“You go to bed,” you mumble, and if he thought you were capable of it he’d say there was some bitterness lining your words. 

He sighs. “You’re too nice for your own good,” he tells you. 

“No,” you reply, softly, plainly, like it’s a fact, “that’s you.” 

He picks his head up off of yours to see your face. “Yeah?” 

“Mhm.” Your eyes are closed. You don’t know he’s looking. Your face is wholly relaxed, no hint of pretense about you. “You’re the best I know.” 

Something warm and wheedling works its way through Remus’ ribs to the soft gooey core of him. “Well,” he tells you honestly, “you’re the best I know.”

You seem unconcerned. “Another impasse for us.” 

He actually laughs at that, instantly guilty when it jostles you on his shoulder and your eyelids peel apart. He can’t regret it, though, when you look at him the way you do. You’re glowing in the light coming off the tree, soft and warm and lovely, and yet you’re looking at him like he’s the only place your eyes want to go. Like it’s the most natural thing in the world. 

You come gradually more awake, eyebrows twitching towards each other just slightly. “Remus,” you murmur, and he finally does what he’s been wanting to since you’d shown up at his door hours ago. He kisses you. 

Your lips are pliable, parting for his almost instantly, like you’d been waiting. His hand coasts from your shoulder to cup the back of your head, keeping you close as your nose slides against his. You both all but fall back onto the bed you’d made yourself on the couch. He’s careful not to put too much of his weight on you, but when his tongue brushes across the inside of your lip and you inhale, he draws back. 

“I...” He pants into the space between you. “Sorry. I’m sorry. I didn’t—”

You make a sound that’s half hum, half whine, and bump your chin up into his. 

Remus loses himself again with frightening quickness. It’s even better now that you seem more sure, your mouth asking, coaxing against his. You taste like gingerbread. An low, embarrassing sound pries free from the back of his throat when you wind your fingers into the hair at his nape, and he slips his free hand beneath your back, getting as close to you as he can. Your legs make room for him automatically, knees tipping open so he can slot between them.

“Do you—” you breathe when his attentions move downward, tilting your head to the side to offer access as he mouths at the skin just under your jaw. “Do you want this?” 

The word leaves him in a soft exhale, muffled against your skin. “Yes.”

You swallow. He feels the movement in your throat. “Are you sure?”

His eyelashes brush your jaw as his kisses slow, become more tender, more intentional. “Lovely girl,” he murmurs. “You’re silly, you know that?” His mouth meanders it’s way over to your pulse, getting stuck there and sucking at your skin lazily. “I mean, you’re smart.” The words are all mushed up against you. Noticeably amused. Remus quit the eggnog hours ago, yet he feels half drunk. “You’re really smart, honey, but you can be so oblivious sometimes.” 

You don’t respond, and as much as he loves the sound of your voice, he’s hoping your silence is in his favor right now. He wants you wrapped up in him, wants to engross you so completely you forget how to form your lips around speech. 

“Do you want to move to my room?” 

You take a breath. Fuck, even the sound of you breathing is nearly enough to undo him. He moves back to your mouth as if to intercept it, nipping at your lower lip. 

“Is this a ploy to get me off the couch?” 

“You’re relentless.”

Your lips curve against his, and he mirrors them without thinking. You stay quiet.

“Fine. I promise it’s not, okay?” 

Your laugh is fizzy like champagne, and it warms Remus’ chest like it too. “Okay,” you say in that lovely voice. “Okay, let’s go.” 

❆ ❆ ❆

You’d always thought Remus was all softness. He’s made up of soft looks, soft colors, and hair that you can now confirm is soft as dandelion fluff. But this night has defied your expectations in a thousand ways. And your Remus, soft, gentle, kindhearted Remus, is scraping at your throat with his teeth. 

You have to suck your lip between your teeth to keep from making a humiliatingly desperate sound when he passes his tongue over his work, another crescent moon that’s sure to be purple by morning. Your hands are beseeching in his dandelion fluff hair, keeping him close while his hands are busy lower, one gripping the fat of your hip while the other drags tantalizingly slow up and down your side. He’s kissing you like you have all the time in the world, sometimes rough but no more urgent for it, and you’re breathy and molten and useless beneath him. 

You’re brimming with adoration and something else too. Something that you think you could almost identify—you’ve felt it before, but never like this. 

“What do you want to do?” There’s a raspy quality to his voice that would send you to your knees if he hadn’t already taken them out from under you. He dots leisurely, open-mouthed kisses up the column of your throat, soothing over spots he’s already nipped and sucked into oblivion. Your head feels fuzzy. “Sweetheart?” 

Christ, is he trying to send you into cardiac arrest? Remus doesn’t stop kissing you even at your silence, finding your lip still held between your teeth and encouraging it free with his own. You try to remember what he’d ask you. What do you want to do? You have no idea. Where would you even start? You want him to keep talking to you in that raspy voice, that’s for sure. You want…you want to keep kissing him, to know what his hands would do if you let them beneath your clothes. You want to keep investigating that warm feeling in your gut. See where it takes you. 

Remus’ kisses slow, then stop. He pulls back to look at you. In the dim street light coming in through the window, you wonder what he sees. “You alright?” His voice is soft, gentle, saying it’s okay if you’re not without saying it. 

You take a breath. It shakes a little on the way out, but you don’t think he can tell. “Yeah, I’m good. Just nervous. But not in a bad way.” Nervous-happy. 

“Don’t be,” he implores, lips brushing your cheek. “It’s only me.”

Exactly, you think. It’s you. 

“What do you want to do?” You turn his own question back on him. 

His smile is tinged with bashfulness. “I mean, whatever you’re alright with.” There’s a tentative quietness to his voice. “Have you…”

If it were possible for you to get any warmer, embarrassment would do it. “No,” you say, shrinking away from him though there’s nowhere to go. Whatever the end to that question might be, the answer is no. 

“That’s okay,” he says quickly, dropping another kiss on the corner of your mouth like a cure-all remedy. “That’s okay, you just tell me if you want to stop, yeah? If you don’t like something, or you want to slow down—anything at all, you let me know.” He kisses you again, further up on your burning cheek. “Okay?” 

You swallow. “Okay.” 

“Don’t be nervous.” He says it like a promise, hand stroking your side again as if to soothe you. His lips find your shoulder, nosing the fabric of your sleeve. “Can I take this off, lovely?” 

You nod, words all stoppered up in your throat, then realize he can’t see you and do it yourself. He has to pause as it comes off, taking the opportunity to do away with his own sweater, tossing it on the floor beside the bed. You do the same, and your bra quickly follows. You’d always thought (largely influenced, admittedly, by trashy novels) that this was the part where the guy stops what he’s doing and openly oggles the shirtless woman in front of him, but Remus has seen tits before and wastes no time in getting his mouth back on yours, pressing you into the mattress. His skin is as heated as yours, the areas where you touch deliciously warm despite the cold still whipping past his bedroom window. You allow yourself one sweeping, appreciative pass over the muscles on Remus’ back before your hands go down to your bottoms, shimmying them down your legs. A long-fingered hand finds the exposed skin of your thigh and kneads reverently. You swallow Remus’ groan, and he kisses you more deeply, long, savoring passes of his tongue along the inside of your mouth until his lips move downward. 

One hand stays at your hip while the other strokes up and down your thigh, spit cooling in a path down your stomach. You try to relax as he passes your navel, but the anticipation is hard to shake. You’re nearly trembling when he kneels between your legs, kissing the sensitive skin of your inner thigh. 

“Is this okay?” he murmurs. 

It’s all you can do to nod, gasping when his teeth drag over one of the stretch marks there. You clutch at the sheets above your head like a lifeline. 

“We can stop anytime you want.” 

You inhale raggedly. “No,” you manage. Your breathlessness is obvious in the quiet room. “I want—I want to keep going.” You pause. “Do you?”

You can hear the smile in his voice. “Yeah, love, that sounds good to me.” 

Good, you’re about to say, but Remus’ next kiss lands on your slit, and your voice withers and dies in your throat. He uses a hand to push one of your legs open further while bringing the other over his shoulder, spreading you open. His breath fans hot over your cunt.

You’re writhing at the first broad stroke of his tongue, and he wraps his fingers around the outside of your thigh, keeping you still while placating you at the same time. 

Remus takes his time, lapping experimentally at your entrance before making his way upwards. You gasp as his tongue skims over your clit, burrowing your hand in his hair before hesitating. 

“Is this okay?” you ask. 

His hummed assent has you tightening your grasp. He brushes over your clit one more time, and when this gets a similar reaction from you, begins sucking on it gently. You’re panting, and Remus has to move his grip to your hip to hold you in place, squeezing indulgently at the fat there while he narrows in on what you like. Before long you’re trembling all over, grasping feebly at his hair as you squeeze your eyes shut against the odd sort of bliss that’s taking you under. 

“Remus,” you breathe, and it’s a miracle that he hears you but he does, raising his head with a lewd suctioning sound. 

He looks at you questioningly with eyes almost all pupil. 

“Come here,” you plead. 

He obeys, crawling back up you to peck at your bitten lips. “Doing alright?” he asks you.

“Yeah,” you promise, cupping his head in one hand and wrapping your leg over the back of his as if to prevent him from leaving. “Just wanted to kiss you.” 

You feel him smile against your lips. He slots his mouth over yours, and you dedicate yourself to his top lip. He tastes like sex, braver now as he explores your mouth. He drags your bottom lip between his teeth, and you make a high, breathy sound. His grip on you tightens. 

“Do you think—can we—”

He hesitates, kissing softly at the corner of your lips. “Are you sure?” 

“I want to. Do you?” 

Remus actually laughs, muffling the sound against your cheek. “Yeah, I fucking want to. I’ve wanted to forever.” 

You can’t think about that. Think about that and you’ll fall to pieces. 

He noses affectionately at the underside of your jaw, slipping down you once again to stand at the end of the bed. He steps out of his pants and grabs a condom from the drawer of his nightstand. “You’ll tell me if I do anything you don’t like, yeah?” 

“Mhm,” you promise, anticipation coiling up snugly with that other thing in your stomach. They don’t feel all that distinct from one another. 

“Alright,” he says, palm slipping under your thigh. “Can I lift this up, love?” 

You nod, and he grasps the soft underside of your knee, bringing your leg up to your stomach as he lines up. You gasp as he pushes in slowly, watching your face to make sure you’re doing okay. You’re already slick and worked open from his ministrations, and it’s still a bit shocking. His thumb strokes beside your knee as your walls adjust to the size of him. “How’s that feel?” 

“Good,” you say honestly. There’s a note of desperation to your voice. “I can—more, please.” 

He’s quick to accommodate you, pushing deeper as he folds himself over you to recapture your lips. Your breaths shallow. His free hand moves to your breast, kneading gently at the soft flesh. He gives it a firm squeeze at the same time as he moves inside you, and you nearly bite Remus’ lip off, a half-suppressed keening sound escaping you. 

“So good,” he mumbles. “You’re doing so good, sweetheart. Taking it so well.” He lifts his head, kissing your temple. “Think you can handle a bit more?” 

Your response is barely more than breath, but he catches the affirmation, pressing another firm kiss to your forehead before he bottoms out inside you. Your head lolls back, fuzzy with the strange pain and even stranger pleasure. Remus tightens his grip on your leg to keep it up, dotting kisses down the side of your face. 

“Good girl,” he says hoarsely. “Still doing okay, lovely?” 

“Yeah,” you say, somewhat dizzy. “Remus, it feels so good.” 

“Good,” he croons. “It should feel good, love. Ready for me to move?”

“Mhm.”

He pulls out slowly, dragging against your sensitive walls. He starts mouthing at your neck again before he pushes back inside you, filling you up all over again. A slew of expletives roll out of your mouth, unbidden and entirely unlike you, as Remus begins pumping your breast again, the rhythm matching that of his thrusts. He sucks the flesh of your neck between his teeth, and you bite down hard on your lower lip to repress what promises to be a high-pitched and deeply mortifying sound. 

Remus praises you amply, soft kisses and reverent touches and a raspy “Fuck, sweetheart, just like that.” Your head floats or swims or both, your body tensed all over and yet completely plaint beneath Remus’ hands. He moves back to your mouth, discovering your bottom lip held captive between your teeth. 

“Come on, don’t do that,” he chides, easing it free with gentle kisses. “Let me hear you, bet you sound so pretty.” 

The Welsh accent that’s grown faint after years of living away from home is emerging now, as is the crude vocabulary it's tied to in memory, a host of barely comprehensible profanities spewing from Remus’ lips when you clench on him again. His grip tightens on your tit, and a moan tears from the back of your throat. 

“That’s it,” he praises, head dipping to kiss the soft spot he’s found under your ear. “There you are, lovely girl.” 

The coil in your core grows impossibly tighter, your thighs quivering as you approach a peak you’ve never known before. Remus feels it, cooing softly even as he drives into you harder.

“You gonna cum, sweetheart?” You nod dazedly. “Good, good, just let it happen, I’ve got you.” 

“Come here,” you demand again, and he wastes no time in obliging you. He kisses your lips sore as you dig your nails into his shoulders, pulling his body flush against yours, the feeling inside you growing so great you don’t know where to put it, don’t know if you can contain it. You can’t remember ever feeling this close to someone, Remus’ touch the only thing keeping you from hurtling off some unknown precipice.

“Let go,” he urges, and you do. You trust him to catch you. 

It’s bliss like you’ve never known. You cry out, and Remus’ hand slides down from your breast to spread wide and flat against your ribs. Steadying. He kisses soothingly at your jaw as you gasp and pant your way back to him, grip slackening on his shoulders. 

“Good girl,” he murmurs, though you really haven’t done much at all. 

“Are you—” You swallow, choking on the emotion that’s risen unbidden in your throat. “Are you close?” 

Remus smiles, coming back to your lips like he can’t help himself. He pecks you once, twice. “Sweetheart, I’m more than close. I’ve barely been holding myself together since you kissed me.” 

Well, he’d actually kissed you, but you’ll take the compliment anyway. 

“Do you think you’ll be alright if I move again?” he asks. “It’s okay if not.” 

“You can,” you say certainly, leaning up on your elbows to see him better. “Is there…anything I can do to help?”

The smile fades from his face, leaving something far more tender in its wake. “Just, keep looking at me like that?” He says it almost like he’s embarrassed, voice quiet with supplication. 

You want to tell him you’d never needed asking to look at him, but you don’t, keeping your eyes on his obediently as he pumps into you. He really must have been close, because he’s cursing again not long after, accent twisting his syllables with a gruff pleasure. Your walls contract at the movement, still sensitive, and that’s all it takes. Remus digs his fingers into your waist and makes sounds you’re sure you’ll dream about, panting, breathy moans you sit up to smother against your lips. He follows you back down onto the mattress, mouth slotted against your own. You hold him to you until his breaths even and his grip on you loosens. 

“Was that alright?” he asks, some of the rasp still lingering in his voice. 

You can’t help the laugh that escapes you, dizzy with affection. “Yeah, it was good,” you promise him. Understatement of the year. “Really good, Rem.” 

“Good,” he echoes, lips brushing the skin under your eye. You don’t know how you know, but you can feel the amusement building in him just before he asks, “Tired yet?”

You guffaw. The force of it jostles him on top of you, and his lips curve against your cheek. “A little bit, yeah.” Actually, you hadn’t realized how exhausting sex would be. If it didn’t mean having to take your eyes off Remus, you’d have closed them and passed out by now. 

“Good,” he says again, hands sliding down your waist as he moves to stand again. You make a small sound as he shifts, and Remus shushes you, slipping out from inside you. You watch fascinatedly as he removes the condom, sticky with cum. He tosses it in the wastebasket under his desk and walks away from you.

“Hey,” you protest. “You’d better not be sneaking off to sleep on the couch.” 

His chuckle echoes in the bathroom, followed by the sound of a cabinet opening. “So mistrustful,” he says when he comes back in with a damp towel. “What’ve I done to arouse such suspicion?” 

Your fuzzy brain gets stuck on the word arouse in his teasing tone, and it takes you a second to answer. “Well, I’m here and a blink away from falling asleep, so you tell me.” 

“Fair enough.” He rolls his eyes good-naturedly, taking your thigh in his grasp to move it aside. “Alright if I clean you up, love?” 

You startle, coming up on your elbows to see where Remus is holding the towel between your legs. “I didn’t realize it’d be so messy,” you admit. “You don’t have to, though, I can do it myself.” 

“I don’t mind,” he says, thumb soothing over your knee. “S’my mess anyway.” He seems to have not quite agreed with himself to say that last part aloud, a blush spreading over his cheeks. 

“Sure,” you say, mostly to alleviate his embarrassment. You let your weight lean more heavily on your elbows, trying your best to look relaxed. “Sure, if you’re alright with it.” 

“Might be a bit sensitive,” he warns. You’d guessed as much, but it's worth it for all the praises he rains down upon you as he works, finishing with a kiss to the side of your knee. 

You miss him humiliatingly when he goes to the bathroom again to discard the towel. It’s all you can do not to reach for him when he comes back, but luckily Remus reads your mind anyway, slipping under the covers and tugging you to him until his lips rest against your forehead. 

“That was really great,” you tell him. 

“I thought so too.” 

“You’ll stay here, right?” 

A low laugh. “Yeah, sweetheart. I’m staying here.” 

❆ ❆ ❆

Remus hasn’t known anyone to sleep in longer than Sirius, but you seem to be vying for his title. The sun has long since passed above his windows when Remus wakes, and still he has time to spend idle hours marveling at the closeness of you. His nose is cold above the covers, but everywhere your bodies are pressed together is warm, your palm flat against his chest and one of your legs wormed between his own. Your fingers twitch as you dream. 

It has to be early afternoon by the time he rises, slipping his hand carefully from beneath you and plodding into the kitchen. The blanket is still on the couch where you left it, throw pillow creased with your indentation. Your mugs are discarded on the coffee table with globs of once-hot cocoa stuck to the bottom. Bright light refracts off the snow outside and into his kitchen, making everything look shiny new. 

Remus starts the kettle first, letting that warm up while he rifles through the cabinets for his big mixing bowl and starts whisking together ingredients. A bird chirps outside as the kettle gurgles, and somehow the peace of Remus’ kitchen feels more complete knowing that you’re sleeping just down the hall. 

Until, apparently, you’re not. Your footsteps are so silent he startles when you appear, still blinking yourself awake as you cross your arms over the sweater you’ve thrown on with your bottoms from the night before. Remus’ sweater. And Remus had thought he’d come to terms with the idea of you here, in his apartment like the best Christmas gift of all time, but apparently not, because his heart stutters and stops at the sight of you. 

He’d thought you’d looked adorable in the soft glow of the Christmas lights the night before, and again tucked into his sheets this morning, but you’re almost ethereal now. Sunlight bathes the planes of your face and gleams off your hair, making you appear almost like you’re emanating the bright light rather than standing in it. You smile at him, seraphim. 

“Morning. Sorry I didn’t ask,” you say, fingering the hem of Remus’ sweater. “I was cold and you were gone, I hope you don’t mind.” 

Mind? Remus can’t even think. 

“Course not,” he manages, but just barely. It’s more an exhale than a statement. “Did you sleep alright?” 

“Really well,” you say. His sleeves cover your fingers as you rest your elbows on the counter, and your gaze has gone a bit shy again, but Remus can hardly blame you. You both seemed to have experienced unusual nerve the night before. He only hopes you aren’t regretting your part in it. And now that he’s had some time to think, he hopes even more that you’d truly wanted it in the first place. “Did you?” 

“Yeah, thanks.”

You lean a bit closer in a way that he doubts either of you are even slightly unaware of, peering into the mixing bowl. “What’re you making?” 

“I’m experimenting,” he says, though he wishes now he weren’t. He wanted to make you something good, but his confidence in his adaptation is waning now that you’re in the room. He should have gone with something basic, tried-and-true. “Or, I’m attempting. Gingerbread pancakes?” 

His voice crawls up into a question, as if he really has no idea what it is he’s trying to make (maybe that’s closer to the truth), but Remus’ regrets vanish instantly at the genuine elation that lights your expression. 

“Really?” 

A laugh startles out of him, giddy. “Yeah, does that sound alright?” 

“More than alright,” you declare with full seriousness, seating yourself at the bar counter. “That sounds amazing, Rem, thank you. Merlin, I owe you so big for all of this.” 

“I think you’ve more than made it up to me.” It slips out without permission, Remus too high on the flow of your conversation to filter the words through his brain before they reach his mouth. His loathsome, traitorous mouth. “I mean, I’m sorry—fuck, that sounds awful—I only meant that I’ve had a really good time with you here. I’m glad you stayed.” 

You flush horribly, and Remus doesn’t expect he’s faring much better. 

“Not that I’m only glad because of—or, I’m always glad to have you. As a friend, too.” 

There’s a tiny pinch in your features, gone before he can diagnose it. Somehow, you seem even more uncomfortable. “Right.” You give him a thin smile. It’s a hearty attempt, but you’re too genuine a soul to fake it. Remus hates himself for it. “As a friend.” 

They’re his own words, put hearing them from your mouth and with that piss-poor smile feels like having a fire poker jammed between his ribs. 

With his track record this morning, he really should be taking a vow of silence, but he can’t seem to stop himself. “Just friends, then?” Hesitance makes his voice sound quiet even in the silent kitchen. He looks down, stirring the batter to avoid watching the answer take form on your face. 

“I mean,” your tone is a match to his, “is that what you want?” 

A short, soft laugh escapes him. “I think I made what I want fairly clear last night.” 

There’s a short silence. “I thought I did too.” 

It’s a conscious effort to keep stirring. Had you? Remus had kissed you, he’d brought you to his room, he’d been the one to ask if you wanted to do more. And you’d been game for it all, sure, but he can’t help but wonder if you were just going along with it. If maybe you’d thought it was just a fuck, something he’d come up with to pass the time while you were both snowed in, no strings attached. Remus could understand that. He could disentangle the strings from last night if it’s what you want. But he’s liked you for years. He could love you oh so easily. He’s practically teetering on the edge of it already, though you’ve only been friends all this time. 

Remus spoons some batter into a waiting pan on the stove. He’s debating asking what exactly it is that you thought you’d made clear when you speak again. 

“I understand if it’s too much for you.” Your voice is shy. He looks up, and your shoulders are hunched as if you’re trying to hide yourself. You shrink further under his gaze. “We can stay just friends if it’s…if that’s what you want. I want whatever’s easier for you.” Your next words are so impossibly soft, Remus has to strain to hear them over the low sizzling of the pancake batter. “I really want you to stay in my life.” 

“What?” It’s a staccato, loud enough that it surprises you both, Remus stepping toward you while you nearly flinch back. “Sorry.” His hand goes up, reaching into the space between you as if he can soothe you from feet away. He lowers his volume. “Sorry, sweetheart, I just—I didn’t realize that was even on the table. I would never want to not be in your life.” 

“I just mean that I don’t want to make things weird for you, or for everyone else—”

“Hey.” He manages to cross the distance this time, his hand landing on your wrist atop the counter. Remus isn’t sure why he needs it there so desperately, but he suddenly feels much better. “There is nothing that could make any of us not want to be friends with you. I can speak for everyone in that regard. Okay?” 

You look at him consideringly for a moment. Remus holds your stare, letting you see his certainty. “Okay,” you echo, sounding unsure. He’ll deal with that later, he decides.

“Okay,” he says once more, and it’d almost be firm if it weren’t so gentled by the tenderness he can never seem to get rid of around you. Even so, what he says next doesn’t sound particularly tender. It’s not very kind to you, he knows, but Remus is selfish, and he feels (selfishly) like he’s done his part already. He tries to phrase it as nicely as he can. “Can you tell me what it is that you want, please?” 

You try to shrink again, and Remus’ grip tightens on your wrist instinctually as if to keep you from running off. He swipes his thumb over your skin apologetically. “Remus, come on.” You sound almost upset, but it’s hard to tell with your voice so quiet. “I know I’m not that good at—at covering myself up. I must have hearts in my eyes half the time I look at you.” 

Remus would give a month’s rent to know what you can see in his eyes right now. Even if he’d been hoping for an answer something like that, he hadn’t expected it. And for you to act like it’s been obvious…he does his best to think back. 

You’ve always been a shy thing. It had taken James months to get you to be remotely yourself around them, and though you’d seemed to warm to Remus first, you’d always retained some of your bashfulness when you were alone together. He’d chalked it up to the result of two people, quiet by nature, with no wildly extroverted James or Sirius or Lily to run interference. 

You’ve always been kind to him, but you’re kind to everyone. How is anyone supposed to suspect favoritism from a soul as indiscriminately sweet as yours? 

He recalls your voice last night, thin and reedy and fragile as the cattails that had bordered the river behind his house as a kid. Wary of getting swept along by the current, but willing to go if Remus would take you. Do you want this?

He’d called you oblivious for asking. How could you wonder, when he’d been the one to kiss you and has probably been looking like he wanted to for years? He’s certainly been thinking about it for as long. But perhaps your obliviousness is another congruity between the two of you. 

So much for opposites attract. 

“I think I’m an idiot,” he says, and mercifully, a smile far more real than the last sneaks onto your face. 

“You are not,” you reply, ever forgiving. 

“Don’t tell Sirius,” he warns, “but I really think I am.” His voice drops into a more earnest register. “I had no idea, love, I’m sorry. Maybe you’re a better actress than you thought. But if you don’t want to be friends, I don’t want to either.” Remus hesitates. “Or, I always want to be your friend, just—”

“Remus?” 

Finally. Someone needs to stop him. “Yeah?” 

“Your pancake…”

He turns to find a thin spire of smoke rising from the pan. “Oh, fuck.” He grabs a spatula and quickly flips the pancake, but there’s no saving it. The bottom side is completely blackened. It’s inedible. “Sorry, I…I’m not sure I have enough batter for much more.” 

“It’s fine.” There’s laughter in your tone, and that’s more than enough to make up for it. “It was a really sweet thought, that’s what matters anyway.” 

Remus turns to find you’ve slipped out of your seat and are standing uncertainly on the threshold of the kitchen. His heart warms with incandescent, aching fondness. 

“Would you come here?” he asks. 

You comply with an eagerness he wonders he’s never noticed before, stepping forward to let him fold you into his arms. Your wrists cross over his mid back and the tip of his nose mushes into your hair as he touches his lips to the top of your head. He can’t believe he could have been holding you like this all along if only he hadn’t been so thick. He supposes he’ll have to make the most of it now. 

“Let’s do away with asking about want, does that sound alright?” He rubs lightly between your shoulder blades, wonders if you like the feel of his breath on your scalp. “How about you tell me if anything comes up that you don’t want, and I’ll do the same.”

“Yeah.” Remus knows he likes the feel of your voice on his skin, chin moving against his chest. “Yeah, that sounds good.” 

“Good.” He smiles, pressing another kiss to your head. “Okay, should we venture out to find something for breakfast? Or lunch, I suppose it is by now.” 

You ease out of his arms. “I really should go home.” There’s an apology already embedded in your tone, but you add one anyway. “Sorry, but my cat’s been there all night by herself, so…”

“Right.” Remus ignores the dull throb behind his sternum, which is really a bit dramatic. He’ll see you soon, surely. “Yeah, that makes sense. Think you’ll be able to drive?” 

“I mean, I looked outside.” You shrug, backing towards where you’d hung your coat the night before. “The roads here are cleared, which I hope means they’ve gotten to most of them already.” 

“That’s good,” he says, though he feels the opposite. Your poor cat, he’s pitted completely against her now. She’s done nothing to deserve the resentment he’s directing at her, almost petulant in his malcontent. “Good, good.” 

You’re both silent as you put on your shoes, your scarf. It’s not unusual for the two of you, but it lacks its usual easy contentedness. Your eyes flit up as you pull on your new gloves, a silent thanks in them that you know Remus won’t let you voice aloud again. Despite the upset in his chest, he smiles. 

“I…listen, I have to go home,” you tell him, looking down as you wriggle your fingers more snugly into the gloves. “I have to feed my cat. But that doesn’t necessarily mean I want to…leave.” 

Remus can’t see how that changes anything, but he recognizes it for the olive branch it is. You’re both so uncertain, and you’re trying to alleviate his worries about what you leaving right now means. He can return the favor. 

“I don’t want you to leave either,” he says, “but I get it. She seems important to you, best to keep her well.” 

“Exactly.” You smile, relieved. “But I mean, if you’re not doing anything, you could come meet her? We could pick up breakfast on the way. Or I could make you something there.” 

Remus can’t believe his luck. And, once again, his stupidity in not getting there himself. Why is it that all of a sudden, everything that has to do with you seems so absurdly difficult? At least one of you is thinking clearly. 

“Yeah, that would be fantastic.” He’s grinning hugely, totally unlike him but liking it very much. “Let me grab my coat.” 

“Wait.” There’s a newly familiar breathless quality to your voice, and when Remus turns you’re already coming forward to meet him. Your palm slides against the stubble along his jaw as you stretch your neck, kissing him sweetly on the lips. “There,” you say, timidity shrouded beneath a good layer of happiness, “now we’re even.” 

Remus laughs, loud and startled. He wants to be generous with you, he really does, but he still thinks you’re far from even. “I’m not sure about that, sweetheart,” he says warmly, pressing a brief kiss to the corner of your eyebrow, “but we'll get there.” 

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[ddejavvu]

Omg could we get another part of animagus cat reader and Sirius? Maybe they’re napping together and the boys try to take cat reader as a joke/because they’re curious while she’s sleeping and she suddenly transforms back as they pick her up LOL. Sirius is grumpy to be woken up/have their special time now exposed hehe

part 1

--

Sirius's bedcurtains are drawn, a clear sign that James and Remus should grant him some privacy.

Unfortunately, James Potter has never been one to take hints, and Remus strictly stays out of their shenanigans. It's only when James gasps with the entire capacity of his lungs that Remus peers curiously over at the bed in the corner, intrigue piqued when he finds a newly familiar form curled up on Sirius's chest.

"That cat!" James hisses, and he's particularly lucky that Sirius is laying on his side with your chin nuzzled over his ear, or the boy would have heard him. Instead, it's you that wakes, eyes blinking open wide as you stare at the men staring back down at you.

"Hi, darling," Remus hums softly, reaching out a tentative, scarred hand to hover it near your nose. You don't need any time for inspection before butting your head up against the heel of his palm, and he grants you a warm chuckle and scratches behind your ears. When you're not transformed, the feeling of someone toying with your hair is entirely unwelcome. But now you lean into Remus's touch, slumping relaxed once more over Sirius's ear.

"Stop hogging her," James urges, sticking his own hand less ceremoniously beneath your nose, "I want a turn."

Remus concedes with an exasperated grimace, but lets James take over anyways. He's lucky that you're you and he doesn't even know it, because if he'd tried petting any other cat by jamming his fingers into their neck, he'd be walking away with several scratch marks on his arms. But you forgive him as he tries petting you too similarly to how he pets Sirius in the man's own animagus form, all riling strokes and heavy-handed pats. You let out a soft mewl of protest when he tries picking you up, and Remus mutters something about you being the most patient cat in the world.

"Just leave her alone, James," Remus warns his friend, "Her patience is gonna wear out."

He listens for only a second, then decides he knows best.

"S'alright, Moony," He promises his friend, over-confident and too eager for affection he hasn't earned yet, "She's layin' all over Sirius, clearly wants a cuddle. You snooze, you lose, now it's my turn."

James's hand slides to your underbelly, an area you're not fond of being handled at in this form. Annoyance surges through you, prickling at your fur and making you long for the smooth expanse of your human skin again, an urge that you give into without much thought when James tries prying you off of Sirius's face.

There's a lot of noises at once. A pained yelp from Sirius, when you form suddenly weighs a lot heavier on him than it was when you'd laid down. A 'woah!' from James as your fur gives way to soft skin beneath his hands which he quickly retracts. A soft gasp from Remus who hadn't been expecting the rather unpleasant sound of transforming between bodies.

Two sets of eyes regard you with incredulity, and one blinks slowly beneath you, laden with drowsiness.

"It's you," James breathes, an air of amazement in his voice that shouldn't be there; after all, he's an animagus as well. Surely he should have noticed shifty behavior or a change in mannerisms from you. All of a sudden your preference for Sirius's softer, fluffy sweaters makes sense.

"Yes, it's me." You huff exasperatedly, perched precariously on Sirius's once-sleeping form. He's not pushing you off but you're sure it's not comfortable, so you slide yourself in front of him instead, easing back against him and letting him spoon you.

"Cat's out of the bag," Sirius rasps sleepily beside your ear, and you don't have to look at him to know he's grinning at his rather pitiful joke, "Did he try to pick you up?"

"Right around the stomach," You gripe, glaring at James while Sirius wraps his arm around the very portion of your body you'd just forbidden James from touching, "Like a toddler."

"For the record," Remus calls, "I was nice to you."

"I was nice too!" James gawps, "I just wanted a cuddle."

"Get your own girlfriend," Sirius drawls lazily, his face buried against the back of your head, and maybe it's a biting statement considering one Lily Evans is still firmly opposed to the presence of James in her life. Sirius knows, and amends it, "Or crawl into Moony's bed. I don't care, "Jus' keep your hands off m'girl."

#sirius black x reader #sirius black imagine #sirius black scenario #sirius black oneshot #sirius black one-shot #sirius black one shot #sirius black headcanon #sirius black headcanons #sirius black hc #sirius black hcs #sirius black fanfiction #sirius black fanfic #sirius black fic #sirius black blurb #sirius black drabble #sirius black dialogue #sirius black fluff #sirius black x reader fanfiction

[bruisedboys]

sirius would always take the teasing shy!reader too far, till she’s slammed the door behind her and he’s on the other side like a little puppy

yeah 😭 he riles you up and then gets all pouty when you hide from him. I hate him (no I don’t)

shy!fem!reader 0.6k words

“Darling,” Sirius whines, fist banging on the door. “Open up.”

You don’t say anything. You’re annoyed at him. He’s been teasing you all afternoon and maybe it’s your fault for getting so flustered but he just wouldn’t stop. It was all too much and now you’ve locked yourself in his bedroom.

“Y/N, please,” Sirius begs, taking your silence in his stride. “I promise I’ll stop now, really.”

Somehow you don’t think that’s true. Somehow you think he’ll leave you be for the rest of the day and then go right back to his teasing self tomorrow.

“No,” you say quietly, not sure he can ever hear you through the door. “Leave me alone.”

Sirius groans dramatically and you think you hear his forehead thump on the door. You try not to smile at his dramatics. You fail and end up smiling anyway. You’re lucky he can’t see you, he’d poke fun for sure.

It’s not that you don’t like the teasing. It’s that you do like it. A bit too much. It makes your skin all tingly and your heart go berserk and you can’t stand him, you swear. You’d let him do it more if you thought you could handle it. You want him to do it more but you can’t handle it.

“Honeybee,” comes Sirius voice again, much quieter this time. Softer. “I’m really sorry.”

He’s buttering you up, you know, and it’s working. The pet names, the soft tone he only ever uses with you. The apology that really, he shouldn’t have to give. It makes you want to wrench the door open and kiss him on his pretty mouth.

Instead you turn the lock and open the door very slowly. Sirius straightens where he’d been moping with his forehead on the door. You open it just wide enough so he can see you.

“Sweetheart,” he says, looking one part sorry and two parts relieved. You’d think he’d kicked your dog, the way he’s looking at you. “I’m sorry.”

You shake your head. “It’s okay,” you say softly. “I, um. I’m sorry. I just got …” Flustered. Shy. Sick with love.

Sirius nods vigorously. You know he can hear the words you’re not saying. “I know. And I’m sorry.”

You smile despite yourself. “Stop saying sorry. S’not your fault.”

“No, but it is,” Sirius says, insistent. “I know I take it too far sometimes. It’s mean.”

He’s undoing you with his gentle apology. So, really, it’s his fault when you blurt, “Who says I don’t like mean?”

Sirius’ eyes go wide as saucers. “What?”

Now you’ve really put your foot in it. You duck your head and stare at the floor so you don’t have to look at him. Wishing it would swallow you up. “Um,” you say.

Sirius laughs, loud and startling. “Darling,” he says through his ridiculously delighted fit of laughter, his tone near chiding.

You grumble at the floor, refusing to look at him because you know he’ll make you smile as soon as you do. You don’t want to smile. You’re embarrassed.

It takes him a while to stop laughing. It fills your ears and creeps into your chest and vibrates around your heart. You enjoy it more than you should. Especially since he’s totally laughing at you. When he’s finally done he steps into your space and hooks a finger under your chin.

“Look at me, will you?” He asks softly, smile evident in his voice. It’s more of a plea than a question. You really can’t not do what he’s asking.

You look up. Sirius beams.

“There’s my lovely girl,” he says, dripping in a fondness that almost has you shutting the door in his face again. “My lovely shy girl.”

You want to duck your head again but he’s got his fingers around your jaw, stopping you from moving.

“Can I have a hug?” He asks softly, all puppy eyes and pouting lips, and you hate him, you swear.

You let him have one anyway.

-

#★ mal writes! #sirius black #sirius black oneshot #sirius black one shot #sirius black fluff #sirius black fanfiction #sirius black imagine #sirius black x reader #sirius black blurb #sirius black fanfic #sirius black fic #sirius black drabble #sirius black blurbs #sirius black x fem!reader #sirius black x reader fluff #sirius black x you #sirius black x y/n #sirius black x fem!reader fluff #sirius black x female reader #ღ sirius #✉️