૮ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ა Hellooooo!
My knees are lowkey quaking sending this req in considering its my first time ever but would thou be willing to write a poly!marauders x reader who is kinda like glinda from wicked? shes very bubbly, cutesy, a little bit air-headed but shes got good intentions and is OBSESSED OBSESSED with pink
no pressure though :) thank youuu ♡
Hello hello~!!!
Thank you so much for asking my dear! I am so sorry for taking so long to write this, I’ve been so busy with school. Now onto your request… I have, unfortunately, never seen Wicked so the characterization might not be the best but I hope I did your idea justice at the very least!
edit: If this isn't what you visioned let me know and I'll try again!!! ♡
Pairing: Poly!Marauders x Reader
WC: 1.3k
The morning air bit at your cheeks, sharp and unforgiving, as though winter itself had woken on the wrong side of the bed. A delicate dusting of snow still clung stubbornly to the pavement, its crystalline sheen interrupted by streaks of white running through the roads. Every breath hung visibly in the air, curling away like fleeting whispers, a reminder that, yes, it was absolutely freezing.
Still, you and the boys had ventured out into the icy embrace of the day, determined to check a few errands off your list. If everything went smoothly— and time was kind —perhaps a movie would sneak its way into the itinerary. That said, the clock was ticking. Remus had an appointment with his chiropractor later in the afternoon, leaving little room for dawdling.
This time of year had always held a special kind of magic for you. The looming promise of the holidays seemed to imbue the air with a tangible warmth, even as the weather remained frosty. Everywhere you looked, there were signs of joy: twinkling lights, wreaths on doors, the hum of cheerful holiday tunes spilling from shop speakers. Your heart felt lighter, your steps quicker — something Sirius was quick to notice.
"Aren’t you a joy this morning," he remarked dryly, his voice tinged with a sleepy amusement. His silver eyes tracked the skip in your step as you bounded ahead, radiating delight. While he was undoubtedly pleased to be with you all, his enthusiasm was dampened by the biting chill and the indignity of being awake so early. His only solace came in the form of the warm paper cup nestled in his gloved hands, filled with an indulgent sugar cookie latte that promised a sweet distraction.
Remus, walking slightly behind, shot Sirius a sideways look, bumping his hip in playful admonishment. He lengthened his stride to catch up with you, his long legs easily matching your pace.
“It’s the holidays,” James chimed in from behind, his tone carrying a fond warmth as he took a sip from his significantly less sweet coffee. “You know how she gets this time of year, Pads.”
Remus chuckled softly, slipping his hand into yours as they all trailed into the grocery store. A wave of warmth wrapped around you like a cozy blanket as the automatic doors slid open, the chill left behind in favor of the comforting hum of indoor heaters and the faint, tantalizing aroma of baked goods somewhere in the distance.
“So, what’s the plan, dove?” Remus asked, his voice low and gentle as he looked down at you.
You beamed up at him, your eyes alight with excitement. “Gingerbread! I want to make gingerbread houses,” you declared. “But we’re out of cloves. Oh, and I was hoping to find some pink candies for decorating— if they have them,” you added, your voice softening with a hint of doubt.
It was no secret that pink candies were elusive this time of year, overshadowed by the dominating reds and greens of the season. Though festive and lovely, they weren’t quite what you had in mind.
Sirius arched a brow, his lips quirking into a faintly crooked smile. “Why not just make them pink?”
You turned to him, tilting your head in curiosity. “Make them pink?”
“Yeah,” he drawled, his tone laced with the sort of lazy confidence only Sirius could pull off. “There’s gotta be a way to make ‘em pink, doll.”
His smile, faintly lopsided and utterly disarming, made warmth bloom in your chest despite the lingering cold in your fingers.
James, ever the problem solver, had already begun to drift through the aisles, scanning for a solution. Meanwhile, Remus fetched a basket with the efficiency of a man well-versed in grocery runs, returning just in time to catch you gathering flour, cinnamon, and nutmeg from the shelves.
“Powdered sugar, right, doll?” Sirius asked, holding up a box as if he’d just unearthed buried treasure.
You grinned, nodding appreciatively. But then your eyes landed on a pack of white chocolate chips, sparking an idea. “I mean... I could make it pink with food colori—”
“They’ve got Valentines candy in the back,” James interrupted, his voice triumphant as he reappeared, his hands planted firmly on his hips. He stood beaming like he’d solved a riddle no one else could crack.
“Really?!” you squealed, your face lighting up with glee.
James grinned even wider, looking thoroughly pleased with himself. “Yep. I’ll grab them for you.”
And just like that, your holiday vision began to take shape, piece by piece. Soon, a pink gingerbread house— complete with frosted edges and delicate decorations— would join the charming little pink tree that had claimed its spot on the living room table.
The thought filled you with a bubbling excitement, your mind already spinning with ideas of how to make your cozy holiday corner even more magical.
It wasn’t just the decorations that made it special, though; it was the way the boys indulged your whims, no matter how outlandish they seemed.
You could already picture Sirius, half-heartedly pretending to grumble as frosting stuck to his fingers, and James concentrating far too hard on piping perfect windows while sneakily eating candies when he thought no one was looking. Remus would undoubtedly take charge of assembling the house itself, his patient hands steady as he held the walls together, teasing you all for your lack of structural integrity.
“Dove?” Remus’s voice broke through your thoughts, grounding you back in the warmth of the grocery store. His amber eyes crinkled with affection as he tilted his head. “You’re smiling like you’ve just won the lottery.”
“Maybe she has,” Sirius quipped, picking up a box of candy canes and twirling one in his fingers. “After all, we found her pink candies. What more could she ask for?”
You laughed softly, stepping closer to him and plucking the candy cane from his hand with a playful grin. “Oh, don’t tempt me. I could think of plenty more.”
“Careful, Pads,” James teased, rejoining the group with his arms full of your prized pink candy melts. “You’ll end up promising her a pink Christmas tree for the kitchen next.”
“Oh, don’t give her ideas,” Sirius groaned, but his dramatic tone couldn’t mask the twinkle in his eyes.
“You’re all terrible,” you said, though the fondness in your voice betrayed you. Your arms brushed Remus’s as you added the last few ingredients to the basket, imagining the laughter and chaos that would follow once you all returned home.
Outside, snowflakes began to drift lazily from the overcast sky, blanketing the world in a soft white glow. It felt like a scene from one of those holiday movies you loved, and you couldn’t help but squeeze Remus’s hand in anticipation.
“Let’s make it quick,” he said gently, though the soft curve of his smile made it clear he wasn’t in any rush. “I think someone’s eager to get started.”
“I guess the movie theater has been pushed off the priority list,” James joked as he followed close behind, balancing bags of groceries in both hands.
“Next time, Jamie~” you sang over your shoulder, your voice light and teasing as you swung yours and Remus’s joined hands in time with the familiar Christmas tune floating from the store’s speakers. The melody seemed to follow you into the frosty morning, adding a cheerful soundtrack to your little procession.
Sirius snorted, his laughter a warm, rich sound that carried over the crisp air. “You’re such a menace when you’re in holiday mode, doll,” he teased, though his grin betrayed his fondness.
James shook his head with a mock exasperation, his lips twitching into a smile as he glanced at the lot of you. “You’re lucky we love you,” he muttered, though his tone was filled with amusement.
The four of you walked down the snowy street together, your breath hanging in the air and your steps crunching against the thin layer of powder beneath your dark pink boots.
Between Sirius’s sarcastic commentary, Remus’s steady warmth at your side, and James’s easy laughter, you could already feel the festive chaos brewing.
Helllllo!! Could you maybe do a wolfstar x reader (or anyone if you don’t do that :))) with a reader who lovesssss makeup and has like a big collection and spends a bunch of money on it and maybe the boys being super intrigued or confused by it? <3
Hello hello~!!!
Thank you for this amazing idea! I wasn’t sure if you were asking for romantic or platonic wolfstar but I may have gone the romantic route. I hope you enjoy it!
Also, it seems I am utterly incapable of writing short stories... Hopefully you don't mind!
Poly! Wolfstar x Fem!Reader
WC: 2k
You breathe out, the exhale a soft puff that lingers in the chilly air. Your fingers run through your hair, frustration creeping up your spine.
It's a mess—which wasn’t new for days like this. The winter winds have stolen every ounce of moisture, leaving your strands dry and unruly. The static makes each strand stand on end, refusing to fall into place as you try to tame them with a bit of leave-in conditioner.
But today, of all days, it needs to cooperate.
You glance in the mirror, taking in your reflection. This is the first time you're hosting date night at your place, and after hours of prepping dinner, tidying up every inch of the apartment, your hair had become the least cooperative part of the evening. You sigh, trying to smooth the mess down, but it feels hopeless.
A light knock on the door pulls your attention away, snapping you out of your frustration. Your heart gives a flutter, and you take a moment to steady your nerves. The knocking continues, a little more insistent, and you curse under your breath as you give your reflection one last look. Your cream knit sweater and well-worn jeans are fine—fine—but not exactly what you'd imagined wearing on such a special evening. It’s casual, maybe too much so, but you tell yourself to let it go. You smooth down the hem and force a shy smile.
The door creaks open, and you greet them with a soft, sweet "Hey." Your voice betrays a touch of nerves, but you stand tall, holding the door wide open as you invite them inside.
Remus and Sirius stand frozen in the hallway just outside your door, their eyes taking in your appearance with an intensity that makes you feel as though they're seeing straight through you. A soft smile spreads across Remus’s face, while Sirius’s lips curl into a wolfish grin. They both seem to sense the knot of anxiety in your chest, reading it effortlessly, as if it was as obvious as the frazzled mess of your hair.
"Hey, dove, you okay there?" Remus asks, his voice a gentle murmur as he bends down, pressing a warm kiss to the crown of your head. The sudden contact sends a spark of calm through you, though the tightness in your stomach doesn’t quite fade.
"Yeah, you look a bit nervous," Sirius adds, his tone teasing yet soft. His lips brush your cheek in a quick kiss as he steps past you into the flat, his eyes flicking over the space, taking in the cozy chaos of your preparations.
The living room, while small, is filled with the soft charm of the season. A few scattered holiday decorations dot the space—pine cones nestled in a crystal dish on the dark wood coffee table, their spiced scent mingling with the candles burning nearby. The flickering lights cast a warm glow across the room, the air thick with the comforting scent of mulled cider and cinnamon, drifting lazily from the kitchen.
They’ve been here before, of course. They’ve picked you up for dates, lingered in the living room while you finished getting ready. But tonight, it’s different. Tonight, they’re not just picking you up. They’re settling in, staying awhile, and something in the atmosphere shifts. The space feels fuller, more alive somehow, even with the quiet tension you’re trying so hard to hide.
"Come on in, make yourselves at home," you say, your voice a little steadier now, though still laced with uncertainty. You close the door behind them, your fingers brushing along the handle as you take their coats and drape them over the back of the couch. It’s a small gesture, but it feels grounding, giving you something to focus on.
You lead them into the dining room, where the table is set in preparation for dinner. White tealights glow softly, casting delicate shadows on the polished surface. Your nice dinner plates gleam under the candlelight, silverware set just so, ready to be used. It’s a simple, intimate setup, and for a fleeting moment, you wonder if it’s enough.
Remus pauses in the center of the room, scanning the flat before turning back to you with a gentle smile. “Do you mind if I use the restroom, love?” he asks, his voice soft but carrying a hint of amusement as he looks around the space, searching for the door.
You smile softly, pointing down the hallway. "It’s the second door on the left," you say, your voice light.
Remus nods with a grateful look before darting down the hallway, eager to relieve himself. Sirius watches him go with a shake of his head, chuckling under his breath. "He’s had to pee since we got to your street," Sirius says, his tone laced with affection and amusement.
You can’t help but laugh, your fingers busying themselves with pouring warm cider into mugs.
That’s when you hear Remus’s voice, sharp and full of surprise. "What the hell?"
A rush of concern flutters through you, catching your breath. You freeze, the warm cider sloshing in the cup you hold, spilling a few droplets as you try to make sense of his exclamation. What did I forget? Was it your hairbrush on the counter again? No... you made sure it was put away. You rack your brain for a moment, but nothing stands out.
Sirius, ever the quick one, is already walking down the hall, following the sound of Remus’s voice. You move to follow, two steps behind him, a strange tightness settling in your chest.
You watch as they reach the second door on the right, and your eyes widen.
Sirius peeks in first, curiosity piqued, and his voice rings out with a hint of amusement. "Moons?" he asks, stepping into the space. He tilts his head to look around, his gaze landing on the long white vanity in front of them. Your heart skips a beat as you catch up, now standing in the doorway just behind them.
The vanity stretches out before you, gleaming under the soft light. Clear storage cabinets line the sides of the mirror, each one filled to the brim with various cosmetics: lipsticks in shades you can’t even name, neatly arranged bottles of foundation, and an assortment of brushes that you’d long since given up organizing. Your cheeks flush with a mixture of embarrassment and mild surprise, realizing they’ve stumbled upon your private little collection.
Sirius raises an eyebrow, clearly intrigued, while Remus stands there, his expression somewhere between shock and genuine curiosity. The air between the three of you crackles with unspoken words as you stand in the doorway, feeling every bit of their gaze on the cluttered, yet carefully curated, space.
Your lips press together as you try to formulate an explanation, feeling a wave of heat rise in your cheeks. What can I possibly say now that they've seen all of this? You stand there, torn between embarrassment and amusement, watching the two of them as they take in the sight of your beauty room.
“Holy shit, love, I knew you liked makeup, but I didn’t think you liked it this much,” Sirius says, his tone an odd mix of shock and awe. He steps closer, eyes roving over the meticulously organized rows of products. Beside him, Remus examines the array with a look of sheer bewilderment.
“You... you actually use all of this?” he asks, gesturing to the overflowing drawers, as if struggling to comprehend.
You nod shyly, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. “Not all at once, of course, but... yeah.” You glance over at them, hoping they’re not overwhelmed.
Sirius reaches out, his eyes lighting up as he picks up a familiar tube. “This is the lipstick I bought you for Valentine’s Day,” he murmurs, a fond smile spreading across his face. He turns the deep red Gucci lipstick in his fingers, the one he’d surprised you with on that special day. It’s a brand you’d never splurge on for yourself, and the fact that he remembers only softens the moment.
Remus clears his throat, breaking the quiet. “Alright, hang on—I really need to pee, but we are so talking about this when I get back.” He gives you a quick, reassuring smile before dashing out of the room, leaving you alone with Sirius, who is still absorbing the scope of your collection.
Noticing your discomfort, Sirius settles himself into the plush chair in front of your vanity mirror. He catches your eye in the reflection, a mischievous gleam brightening his gaze. “Love, can you do my makeup?” His grey eyes lock with yours, and you can’t help but laugh, shaking your head.
“What do you want, Siri?” you ask, moving to stand behind him, your hands instinctively finding their way into his dark, unruly curls. His eyes flutter shut as he leans back into your touch, a low groan escaping his lips.
“Reggie’s been wearing eyeliner lately, and it actually looks pretty cool. Can you do that for me?” he asks, keeping his eyes closed, totally at ease.
A sweet hum escapes you as you think it over. “Are we talking waterline or a wing?” you ask, fingers combing gently through his hair.
“Which one’s easier?” he asks, eyes cracking open to meet yours, genuine curiosity lighting his face.
“For you? Probably a wing,” you explain with a smile, reaching over his shoulder to grab your favorite liquid liner. “Putting it in your waterline can get uncomfortable. I’ll go easy on you.”
He chuckles, a small smirk forming as he settles in, clearly ready for whatever you’re about to do.
Remus steps back into the room, his hands settling on your hips with an easy familiarity. You feel his warmth as you focus, steadying the felt-tip pen and carefully flicking it to form the perfect wing at the corner of Sirius’s closed eyes.
“And what exactly are you two up to?” he asks, voice laced with fond amusement. His hazel eyes shine with a soft curiosity, watching as you carefully hover over Sirius.
You glance up, meeting his gaze with a playful smile. “Just spreading my love of makeup,” you quip, your voice light with humor.
At that, Sirius opens his eyes slowly, catching sight of himself in the vanity mirror. The sharp lines of the eyeliner bring a new edge to his look, making his grey eyes look strikingly intense. A small, satisfied grin spreads across his face as he takes in the transformation. “Damn—I look good.”
“When don’t you look good?” Remus laughs, shaking his head as he leans in closer. There’s a warmth in his gaze, a kind of love that makes the room feel cozier.
You smile, leaning across Sirius once more to reach for your favorite lip oil. Without a second thought, you swipe it across your lips, the slight sheen catching the light before you turn, tiptoeing to press a soft, lingering kiss to Remus’s lips. He blinks in surprise, feeling the film of oil on his lips, and a bashful smile spreads across your face.
“There. Now you’re dolled up too,” you murmur, your voice barely above a whisper.
Remus’s cheeks flush, and he lets out a quiet laugh. “Lucky me,” he replies, squeezing your hips gently.
You dart your gaze away, the warmth of the moment lingering as your eyes catch the soft glow of the digital clock on the corner of your vanity. The numbers blink back at you, a gentle reminder of time ticking by.
With a small sigh, you reluctantly shake yourself out of the cozy, dreamlike bubble surrounding the three of you.
“We should head back out. I’ve got dinner in the oven.”
Sirius groans dramatically but rises from the chair, throwing you an affectionate look as he reaches out to link his arm with yours. Remus follows, his hand resting lightly on your shoulder, the three of you moving back into the warmth of the dining room, surrounded by candlelight and the smell of cider that fills the air like a promise of a perfect evening ahead.
hi <3 this is super self-indulgent haha…but would you be willing to write a poly!wolfstar with a reader who still has their like raggedy lovey stuffed animal from when they were a baby that maybe they were hiding from the boys and how they react to finding out? xx
Hello hello~!
This is absolutely adorable! I’m definitely guilty of holding onto childhood plushies too, so this is a bit self-indulgent for me as well. I really hope you enjoy!!!
Poly!Wolfstar x Fem!Reader
WC: 1.1k
You flop down onto the fresh, unfamiliar bed, surrounded by boxes and bags, the remnants of your old flat strewn across the floor. Today was all about hauling practically everything from your last place into your boyfriend's house—your new home.
You’re grateful for this room of your own. It’s small, but that was your one non-negotiable condition. You love them both fiercely, but there’s something about having a sanctuary to retreat to, a space that’s just yours.
Their bed may be huge, but you know yourself: the thought of sharing it every night feels a bit too close for comfort, especially with everyone's mismatched schedules.
Plus, you’ve learned the hard way about Sirius’s habit of kicking in his sleep. He’d boot you clear off the bed at four in the morning if you gave him the chance. And Remus? He’s a snuggler—a heavy, unyielding snuggler. When he wraps an arm around you, it’s like being pinned by a warm, affectionate weight. Charming, absolutely, but not so convenient when you really have to pee in the morning.
So here you are, content but completely drained, with the three of you spending most of the day heaving boxes into the car and scrubbing down your old flat.
“Oh, it feels good to just lie down,” you groan, the ache of a long day catching up with you.
“I told you to wear comfortable shoes, dove,” Remus says softly, leaning against the doorframe and watching you with a fond smile.
You turn your head, flashing him a tired grin. “In my defense, I thought these were comfortable.”
“And is our princess now resting in her royal quarters?” Sirius quips, appearing just behind Remus, fresh from hauling a load of flattened boxes down to the bin.
“Absolutely,” you tease, shaking your head at his playful tone. “Thanks for helping me out. I’m sorry Marls had to back out last minute.” You sigh, thinking of how your best friend had called that morning with the news: her girlfriend had been in a minor accident at work and had to be rushed to the hospital. You could hardly blame her for canceling; if either of your boys were in the hospital, you’d drop everything to be there, too.
“Anytime, darling,” Sirius murmurs as he strolls into the room. With a dramatic flop, he lands on his back on the far side of the bed, letting out a soft “oof.” It’s an endearing sound that makes you laugh, even as you feel the day’s exhaustion settling in.
“Well?” You turn to Remus, a mischievous glint in your eye. “Planning to join us?” The question comes out with a flirtatious smile, hinting at just how much you’d love him to join you and Sirius.
Remus rolls his eyes, but there’s a softness there, too, as he lets out a gentle sigh. Shaking his head with a small, amused smile, he pads over to the foot of the bed and settles down, reaching for both of you. His hands find their way into your hair and Sirius’s, brushing through in a familiar, calming rhythm, almost like he’s petting two contented cats.
Sirius stretches his arms, accidentally knocking one of the many decorative pillows off the bed. With a groan, he slides down to his knees to retrieve it, grabbing the plush white pillow and tossing it haphazardly back onto the bed. But as he does, something else catches his eye—a faded mint-green fabric peeking out from an open duffel bag beside the bed.
“Siri?” Remus calls out, noticing that Sirius hasn’t returned to join them.
Curious, you sit up, wondering why he’s so distracted. Army-crawling to the edge of the bed, you spot his gaze fixed on the bag, and your heart skips a beat as you realize what he’s staring at.
Panicking, you scramble off the bed and slide down beside him, nearly losing your balance in the rush. Remus’s concerned voice cuts in as he leans over, “Dove, you alright?” But you’re already reaching for the item that has Sirius’s full attention, fumbling slightly in an attempt to tuck it out of sight.
Sirius’s brows lift with curiosity. “What are you hiding?” he asks, a mischievous grin playing on his lips as he tries to gently wrestle the object from you.
“Nothing!” you whine, feeling the heat rise in your cheeks.
Remus raises an eyebrow, clearly amused. “That doesn’t look like ‘nothing,’” he says with a smirk. “Especially if you’re going to all this trouble to hide it.”
You squeal, feeling a mix of embarrassment and nervousness as you pull the plush tightly to your chest.
Sirius’s hands stop their playful struggle, but he keeps them on your back, rubbing soothing circles as he softens his tone. “Baby?”
You groan, sitting up and holding the well-loved, slightly worn mint-colored bunny in your arms. The little plush flops over as you look down at it, feeling a bit sheepish.
"My mom got her for me when I was a baby," you explain, your voice quiet but steady. "I know it's childish to still sleep with plushies at my age, but... she's just always been there for me. Through everything—moving around, tough nights, even all the times I was scared or stressed. It’s like… having a little piece of home with me."
Sirius's expression softens, a warm smile tugging at his lips. "That’s not childish at all, Love," he says, rubbing a gentle hand over your back. "Everyone needs something that makes them feel safe."
Remus nods in agreement, reaching out to touch the bunny's worn little ear. "And besides," he says with a grin, "if anyone gives you trouble about it, just remember who they’re talking to. You’ve got two knights here who’d defend a bunny’s honor, no questions asked."
You laugh, feeling a rush of relief. Hugging the bunny a bit tighter, you feel their arms wrap around you, holding you just as close.
"I love you both so much—" your voice comes out soft, but the warmth in it is unmistakable. You don’t even get a chance to finish before Sirius practically pulls you into his lap, wrapping his arms tighter around you with a grin that practically lights up the room.
"Good," he says, squeezing you reassuringly. "Because we're not going anywhere."
Remus leans in on your other side, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear with that gentle smile of his. "We love you too," he murmurs. "And that bunny? She’s part of the family now."
You can’t help but laugh, your heart feeling lighter than it has in ages as you sit there, held in the arms of the two people who mean everything to you, with your cherished bunny nestled close. In that moment, you know for certain that home isn’t just a place—it’s right here, with them.
hello!! I was wondering about if you'd be interested in writing a regulus black / sirius black x reader ff where reader is learning french but is terribly horrendous at it
No pressure pooks🙏
Hello hello~!!!
Thank you, thank you, thank you for this idea!!! As soon as I saw this ask I knew I had to write it immediately. Now, like the reader in this fic, my French is terrible... I haven’t touched it in years— aside from the occasional Duolingo lesson— so I’m sure my grammar will be all over the place. Hopefully, it’s not too bad, but fingers crossed!
Paring: Sirius Black x Fem!Reader
WC: 1.2k
How has it come to this?
You’re perched on the couch in the cozy but slightly chaotic living room of your shared flat, flanked by Sirius and his younger brother, Regulus. Sirius— your boyfriend of six months —leans forward, scribbling something onto a notepad, his dark hair tumbling into his face as he mutters phrases under his breath. Beside you, Regulus sits cross-legged with the air of a reluctant tutor, his sharp features softened by uncharacteristic patience.
Together, they are attempting what feels impossible: cramming basic French into your overwhelmed brain before you face what you can only describe as a gauntlet— meeting the Black family matriarch.
The mere thought of her sends a shiver down your spine.
When she found out Sirius was in a relationship—and that she hadn’t been informed— she had, predictably, thrown a fit.
The result? An invitation, that felt more like a summons, to the infamous Black family home for Christmas. As if meeting your boyfriend’s parents weren’t already intimidating enough, there was a catch: she was said to be excruciatingly, almost maliciously picky.
Sirius hadn’t minced words about it, either.
“She won’t like you,” he’d said bluntly the night the invitation, if you could call it that, had arrived. “Don’t take it personally. She doesn’t like anyone.”
Which was, of course, impossible to not take personally.
So here you were, cramming vocabulary in a desperate attempt to win even a sliver of her approval. If learning French wasn’t already difficult enough, doing it under the critical eye of the Black brothers was verging on impossible.
“Non, non,” Regulus corrects gently, his tone calm but firm as he watches frustration creep into your features.
You glare at the notepad in Sirius’ lap. The word rencontrer stares back at you like a stubborn enemy, taunting you with its refusal to stick. Sirius seems to sense your despair, because he sets his pen down and shifts closer, his hand moving in soothing circles over your back.
“I’m never going to get this right,” you groan, dropping your face into your hands. The muffled words escape from between your fingers. “Spanish wasn’t this hard. Why is this so hard?”
“You’re doing much better than you think, love,” Sirius says, his voice warm and low, a balm against your growing nerves.
“She might not even say anything in French,” Regulus offers, his tone neutral as though trying not to spook you.
“But it’s her first language,” you counter, peeking at him from between your hands with a pleading look.
Sirius exhales, setting the notepad aside entirely. “You’ll be fine,” he assures you, pulling you gently against his side. You don’t resist. Resting your head on his shoulder feels infinitely better than wrestling with foreign syllables.
“Honestly, you’ll probably win over our dad faster than her anyway,”
“But it’s your mom,” you mumble, the thought of disappointing her settling heavy in your chest.
“She’s probably making a fuss because she needs something to complain about,” Regulus says dryly, his mouth quirking in a half-smile. He gestures toward Sirius with a nod. “And let’s be real... he doesn’t care about her opinion.”
You let out a heavy sigh, knowing he’s right. You’ve heard enough about Sirius’ tumultuous relationship with his parents to know their approval— or lack thereof —means little to him. Still, it doesn’t ease the gnawing anxiety in your stomach. The idea of stepping into that house, of facing her scrutiny, feels like walking into a viper pit.
“Why don’t you try again?” Regulus suggests gently, patting your knee in what you suspect is meant to be a comforting gesture. Though awkward, the effort is endearing. “It’s probably just nerves messing you up.”
You exhale deeply, then nod. Sitting here with them helps—at least somewhat—but their fluency feels like a spotlight highlighting your every misstep. You don’t want to keep fumbling in front of them, even if they’re patient about it.
“C’est un plaisir de vous re—” The words stumble awkwardly on your tongue, frustration bubbling over. “FUCK!” you burst out, dragging out the offending syllable slowly. “Rencontrer, Madame Black.”
Sirius loses it, muffling his laughter behind his hand while Regulus shoots him a sharp glare, clearly unimpressed with his amusement.
“Rencontrer,” Regulus repeats slowly, his voice calm and encouraging.
“Rencontrer,” you echo, focusing hard to mimic his deliberate pronunciation.
“Perfect,” Sirius chimes in, his grin softening as he finally reins in his giggles. “Now just a bit faster, love.”
You shoot him a look, your narrowed eyes more playful than annoyed. “I feel like I’m just free entertainment for you right now.”
Sirius smirks, leaning in to press a quick kiss to your temple. “You’re always free entertainment for me.”
“Je t’aime tellement,” he adds quickly, the French phrase rolling off his tongue effortlessly.
You roll your eyes in exasperation. “Je te déteste tellement,” you counter, a smirk tugging at the corner of your mouth.
Sirius freezes, his expression twisting into mock offense. “YOU CAN BARELY SAY RENCONTRER, BUT YOU CAN TELL ME YOU HATE ME?!?” His voice rises incredulously, his hands flying up in sheer disbelief.
Regulus lasts all of two seconds before dissolving into laughter. “How do you even know how to say that?” he manages between wheezing breaths.
You shrug nonchalantly. “You two say it all the time.”
Sirius lets out an exaggerated groan, throwing his head back as Regulus dissolves into laughter again, shaking so hard he nearly falls off the couch.
“Oh my God,” Regulus wheezes, doubling over with laughter. “The one fluent phrase you know is I hate you!” His laughter turns into something closer to a breathless gasp, tears glistening in the corners of his eyes. His sheer amusement is contagious, and despite your frustration, you can’t help but crack a smile.
“Just—just don’t say that to our mom right off the bat,” Sirius interjects, fighting his own grin as he waves a hand. “If she says something awful, then by all means, go for it, but—”
You whirl toward him, eyes wide in mock outrage. “I would never!”
“Oh no, please do,” Regulus manages, wiping the tears from his face with the heel of his hand. “I’d pay good money to see that.”
“Je te déteste… you both,” you mutter, your attempt to insult them in French as clumsy as it is endearing. The effort only sets them off again, Sirius and Regulus laughing so hard you can’t help but join in.
“Je t'aime aussi, mon cœur,” Sirius teases, his voice full of affection as he leans down to press a kiss to the top of your head.
“Get a room,” Regulus groans, though the lack of any real annoyance in his tone makes his words land more as a joke.
“You’re in our home,” Sirius fires back without missing a beat.
That’s it— you lose it. Laughter bubbles out of you, breaking through the tension that had knotted your shoulders all evening. Sirius smirks triumphantly at your reaction, his arm pulling you closer, while Regulus just groans again, throwing himself back against the couch with dramatic flair.
In this moment, as the three of you laugh together, the anxiety about meeting the Black family fades ever so slightly.
It will return, but for now, there’s only warmth, humor, and the feeling that maybe— just maybe —you can get through this together.
I noticed you take asks, but after lurking for a bit, I saw you haven’t done any yet. No worries if you’re not ready! But do you write _ x reader? Because I was thinking it’d be a super cute idea if the reader has a crush on their TA, who happens to be one of the Marauders, in the most boring class ever.
Oh, and if you haven’t had any designated anons yet, can I be ☁️?
Hello hello~ !
I do take asks!!! This is actually the first ask I’ve received and I am so happy. Thank you for sending it in and of course you can be my ☁️ anon! As for _ x reader fics… I’ve actually never written a reader fic before but I’ve tried my best! I think it leaned more gender neutral more than female reader, but I hope its okay.
Also, as someone who normally writes in third person, second person is difficult!!!
TA! Sirius Black x GN! Reader
WC: 1.1k
You can’t remember why you signed up for this class. Maybe you thought it would be easy? Or even interesting…
But no.
The only thing remotely worth your time is the observation lab every Friday. The rest? Well, that’s just a blur of uncomfortable lectures, ticking clocks, and the distant hum of other students’ barely contained frustration.
No one would expect you to have perfect attendance. Most of the class doesn't even bother showing up, since attendance isn’t mandatory. They only show for tests, and even then, some skip those. You can’t help but wonder if they dropped the class, or if they just don’t care anymore.
Unfortunately— or, depending on your perspective, fortunately— something other than the lecture has caught your attention. You can’t help but quietly admire the TA at the front of the room, his presence oddly magnetic amidst the dull hum of the class.
Sirius Black is as punctual as you—if not more. He’s always there before anyone else, scanning IDs with a detached efficiency as students shuffle past. Then he settles into the front row, laptop open, his fingers dancing over the keys. He posts notes on Canvas for the absentees, though you suspect it’s more out of routine than necessity, since the lectures are always recorded and uploaded that evening.
He doesn’t seem like the type who’d voluntarily spend his free time sitting through intro-level astronomy lectures. With his shoulder-length, wavy dark hair—often loosely pulled into a half-bun—and his signature worn black leather jacket, he looks more like someone who should be out of a 50s film than a lecture hall. His casual blue jeans and plain white T-shirt complete the look, giving him a James Dean vibe that seems a little too effortless, a little too cool for this room.
You try to refocus, your eyes drifting back to the lecture. Professor Fancourt’s voice drones on in a monotonous lull, and he scribbles another formula on the whiteboard. “With this equation, please find the orbital velocity of Neptune,” he instructs, his back turned as he walks toward the desk by the door where Sirius is absorbed in his typing.
You glance back at the formula, but it might as well be a foreign language.
You’ve never been good at math, and when you signed up for Basic Astronomy, you didn’t think it would be an all-out battle of numbers. You thought you’d be learning about planets, maybe some stars, a little science history. But math? Why did they have to throw that in?
A knot tightens in your stomach as Professor Fancourt starts pacing. You know what’s coming. It’s only a matter of time before he picks someone—randomly, of course—to come up to the whiteboard and answer the question. You have no idea what’s going on with that equation, but you’re pretty sure it’s going to be you.
You don’t want to be called on. Not today.
With a resigned sigh, you gather your things, leaving your notebook open on the desk. A quick break—just enough to clear your head.
You make your way to the TA’s desk. Sirius looks up as you approach, his brow quirking in mild surprise.
“Look at that—someone’s actually moving from their desk,” he teases, and you manage a tired, half-hearted smile, nodding in acknowledgment.
“Just need a break,” you mutter, pulling your ID from your pocket and handing it to him.
He scans it without a word, his fingers drumming absentmindedly on the scanner. “If you’re grabbing something, make it quick,” he says, his voice laced with a playful chuckle. “And don’t forget—bring me something back, yeah?” He adds a wink for good measure, making the suggestion feel almost like a dare.
You step out into the hallway, the noise of the lecture hall fading behind you. For a moment, the weight of the class lifts from your shoulders, and you allow yourself to relax. You focus on the vending machine in front of you, half-stalling, half-actually needing something to take your mind off the dull lecture and the growing pressure of the equation you still can’t wrap your head around.
You scan the rows of snacks—chips, candy bars, granola. You grab the chocolate bar you always go for when you need something quick. You buy it, but as you clutch the candy and step away from the machine, you remember Sirius’ words, his playful tone still echoing in your mind. “And don’t forget—bring me something back, yeah?”
You pause, eyeing your snack. An impulse hits you, and you decide to grab a pack of sour gummies from the row below. It’s different from what you’d normally get, but you figure it’s a safe bet. Plus, you’d hate to go back empty-handed after he asked, even if he was joking.
With both snacks in hand, you head back into the lecture hall. The familiar hum of the room greets you, but this time it feels different. The pressure in your chest has lifted, replaced with an unexpected calm. You’re grateful to find the professor already discussing the next topic when you return.
You make your way to your seat, but before you sit down, you glance toward the front of the room. Sirius is still hunched over his laptop, typing with the same detached concentration as always. His attention is on the screen, but when he hears you approach, he looks up just in time to catch your eye.
You raise the pack of sour gummies slightly, as if to confirm you heard him. “Brought you something.”
His eyebrow quirks in surprise, but the smirk that follows is unmistakable. He leans back in his chair, crossing his arms with a quiet chuckle. “Well, I’ll be damned. You actually came through.” His gaze flickers between the gummies and your face, and you can’t help but feel a little self-conscious under his attention.
“They’re for you,” you say, offering him the pack. “Hope you like them.”
Sirius grins, his fingers brushing against yours for a brief moment as he takes the gummies. “Thanks. This’ll make the rest of this lecture bearable,” he says with a wink. “Thanks, love.”
You smile, a little shy, your cheeks flushing at the nickname. You return to your seat as he rips open the pack, popping a gummy in his mouth. The subtle exchange is enough to keep your mind from wandering back to the looming equation on the board.
The rest of the class goes by in a blur.
Professor Fancourt drones on as usual, but you don’t mind so much now. For once, you actually feel... lighter. Sirius hasn’t left his post at the front of the room, but every so often, you catch him glancing back at you with a quiet grin, as if he knows exactly how much of an effect he’s having on you. It turns your cheeks even darker, and your eyes quickly dart away when you make eye contact.
By the time the class ends, you’re no longer dreading the idea of coming back next week. In fact, you might even look forward to it a little, and not just because of the observation lab on Friday.
I’m kinda living for the whole college Sirius you’ve got going. Never would’ve imagined him as a TA but Astronomy fits soooo well. (Very much looking forward to more of that) But just imagine… Tutor reader and one of the other boys is a barista on campus and they just know the readers order as soon as they walk in because it seems like they always stop by before or after work. I think that would be soooo cute!
Also saw you have designated anons can I be your ⏳ anon if that’s not taken already?
Hello hello~!!!
I’m so happy you’re enjoying the college AU! I’m really loving TA!Sirius too, so that storyline will definitely continue. Now, as for your ask—when I saw ‘barista,’ my first thought was to make it a Remus-centered fic. But…I raise you social butterfly barista James Potter. With that said, I hope you enjoy my take on your idea!
Also of course you can be my ⏳anon!!!
Barista!James Potter x Fem!Reader
WC: 1.1k
It's early afternoon, and the coffee shop tucked in the far corner of the quad is practically deserted. Only a few frazzled students tap furiously at their keyboards, their brows knitted in concentration, while the occasional professor unwinds after a long string of lectures. Behind the counter, two baristas are stationed, chatting as they clean and restock in leisurely rhythm, bracing for the next rush that’s sure to sweep through those double glass doors in a few hours.
When you step into the shop, just as you do nearly every day around this time, you’re greeted by the soft hum of music filtering through the speakers, barely louder than the clatter of laptop keys and the muffled murmur of conversation. Yet, the sound is familiar and comforting, blending seamlessly with the warmth of the space.
You glance toward the bar, and there he is—James, a familiar face, mid-motion as he turns from cleaning the espresso grinder. His brown eyes light up with recognition, crinkling with a smile that’s warm and easy.
"Hey, love," he greets, pushing his round glasses back up the bridge of his nose. "Your usual?"
You can’t help but mirror his smile as you nod, digging into your bag to pull out your wallet. “Yeah, thank you, James.”
At the register, the other barista, a girl with dark red hair pulled into a loose bun, rings up your order. You notice, though, that she pauses as James adds an extra drink to your total. She raises an eyebrow, casting him a questioning look. “She’s only getting one, though?” she asks, her brows furrowing.
“Just trust me, Lils,” James replies, his smile as certain as it is mysterious. With a small sigh, she relents, and you barely notice the extra charge, simply thanking her with a quiet smile before finding an empty table.
You settle in, pulling out your journal and glancing at your phone, gauging how many hours you’ll be spending in the library tonight.
As you begin jotting down notes, your mind drifts to a few concerns your students shared during the last session, the things they struggle with that you’re determined to help them understand. The scratch of your pen on the paper becomes a soothing rhythm until—
A steaming mug lands on a coaster beside your phone, pulling you from your thoughts. You look up, startled, an apology already on your lips. “Sorry,” you murmur, realizing you must’ve missed him calling your name.
James only chuckles, his smile soft yet playful. “Sorry for what, love?”
“Not coming to get my order?”
He laughs, the sound warm and familiar, filling the quiet space between you. “I didn’t even call for you.” He shakes his head, clearly amused. “When I finished with your tea, you were already writing, so I figured I’d just bring it over.”
You thank James with a grateful smile, but he just waves it off, already turning back to the espresso grinder. Lily, meanwhile, busies herself at the small refrigerator, restocking whipped cream canisters with the kind of efficiency that only comes from experience.
You open your journal once more and start drafting a few more notes, tailoring each to help your students in their upcoming sessions. First on today’s list is Evan—a top business student, though lately, he’s hit a wall with Economic History. You’re not entirely sure why. Though the subject is notoriously dry, Evan is bright and usually navigates complex material with ease.
Then again, you’ve noticed a pattern. Every time a certain psychology major sits just outside your study room door, Evan’s focus starts to drift. You’ve seen the stolen glances, the way his attention wavers whenever that familiar face appears in his line of sight.
But you don’t really mind. Evan’s a fast learner, and once he sets his mind to it, he absorbs concepts quickly. With a small smile, you jot down a few more examples, hoping to make the material click despite his latest...distractions.
After some time, you shift in your seat, feeling the strain of being hunched over for so long. You roll your shoulders, feeling a satisfying pop and release of tension. Glancing at your mug, you realize it’s now almost empty; the last bit of lemon mint tea has gone cold, a quiet signal that it’s time to pack up and move on.
You slip your book and journal back into your tote bag and stand, carrying your mug over to the return station, placing it gently in its designated spot. A quick glance at the counter shows James mid-motion, focused on another drink. You approach Lily instead, thanking her for helping out and asking if you could order a tea to-go. Lily just shakes her head, waving you off with a small smile.
“Oh?” you ask, brows furrowing in mild confusion.
Before you can answer, James turns, holding a drink carrier with two steaming cups, his expression radiating a proud, quiet satisfaction. “Figured you’d be heading to the library after this,” he says, a grin tugging at his lips. “So I added a second tea to your order.”
You let out a soft sigh, almost a laugh, and despite yourself, a fond smile tugs at your own lips. “James…”
But he’s already pressing the drinks into your hands, that familiar, mischievous glint in his eyes steady and warm.
“You got the coffee too. Honestly, you’re too good at this job,” you tease, glancing down at the carrier— your usual tea to go and an Americano for Remus at the library desk.
James’ grin widens, his gaze bright with playful pride. “Well, we have to keep our loyal customers around somehow,” he jokes. “Can’t risk you being lured away by another coffee shop on campus.”
You laugh, a soft and genuine sound, as you take the drinks from him. “I don’t think you have anything to worry about. This is my favorite spot, after all.” You give him a small, lasting smile, the comfort of this place—and maybe of him—settling around you.
“Good luck with work,” he says warmly, his voice carrying a note of encouragement.
As you make your way to the door, you catch yourself glancing back, a gentle wave accompanying the smile that lingers, soft and warm, just a little longer than you’d planned.
As soon as she steps out the door, Lily glances over at James, raising an eyebrow. “Do you think she noticed you put your number on the cup?”
James shrugs, a bit sheepish but still with a hint of a grin. “Probably. I mean, I hope so.” He leans back against the counter, his expression a mix of casual hope and quiet anticipation.
Welcome to my garden!
Where stories and thoughts are carefully crafted, each one wrapped up with a beautiful bow, much like a bouquet of words, waiting to be plucked and enjoyed by those who wander through.
Marauders:
James Potter
✿ DWTS! AU
❀ Take The Lead part 1 | part 2
✿ Barista! James
❀ Common Grounds
Sirius Black
❀ Mon Cœur
✿ TA! Sirius
❀ North Star
Poly! Marauders
❀ Pink Cheeks & Pink Treats
✿ Royal! AU
❀ Royal Flush part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 {private for now}
