“the thing about polyamory is now i have two people getting mad at me when they ask what i ate today and i tell them “coffee.” ”
and i thought it was rlly cute and was wondering if you could do something like that for poly!wolfstar :)
Thanks for requesting lovely!
a/n: Please do not misconstrue my participation in the marauders fandom as support of JKR. If you’re new here and want to participate in the fandom, I encourage you to do so without participating in anything that would provide financial gain to her or her vile agendas
cw: talk of not eating (unintentional)
poly!wolfstar x fem!reader ♡ 820 words
It’s not rare for Sirius to come home to a quiet house—he jumpstarts the noise, usually, because left to your own devices you and Remus are quiet as mice—but when he kicks off his shoes today, he can’t help feeling like the quiet has a different flavor.
You’re sitting at a barstool across from where Remus is working in the kitchen. Sirius sneaks up behind you, snaking his arms around your waist and smooching your cheek. “Why are we sulking?” he asks you.
You turn your head, a silent request for a real kiss which he happily obliges. “I’m not sulking.”
“Liar,” he says fondly. “Come on, it’s not even six. Too early to be upset.”
You nod at your other boyfriend, who’s chopping basil with the steady mercilessness of an executioner. “He’s icing me out.”
“I am not,” says Remus.
Sirius hums. “Everyone seems to have an idea of what they’re not doing.”
You sulk harder. “He is. He’s cooking at me all passive-aggressive.”
“I’m cooking for you,” Remus snipes. “You can’t cook at someone.”
“You manage it.”
Sirius tsks, giving your middle a pinch of admonishment. It’s not like you to antagonize Remus—not like either of you to squabble much at all, usually—but it’s especially strange that you’re doing it while he’s making your dinner right in front of you.
Sirius taps your jaw, directing you to face him. “What did you do?” he asks quietly.
You lour. “It’s silly.”
“I could use a laugh.”
Your gaze moves to Remus. He’s directing his attention pointedly at the cutting board. “He wanted to know what I ate today, and then he got fussy about it not being enough.”
“Because the answer was nothing,” says Remus.
“It wasn’t nothing! And you shouldn’t have asked if you didn’t want to know.”
“Doll. Look at me.” Sirius taps your jaw again. When you do, he does his best to look non-accusatory. “What did you eat today?”
You shrink a bit, as though you suspect the answer won’t go over much better the second time around. “I had coffee this morning, and then a couple cups of tea at work…”
Slowly, Sirius retracts his arms from around you. Your lips part with betrayal.
“So, you do understand that coffee and tea are liquids, don’t you?”
“But they still—”
“Which means that when Rem says you ate nothing, he’s not wrong, because you didn’t actually eat anything.”
Remus still hasn’t looked up, but his expression has taken on a smug hue.
“It wasn’t on purpose. I just haven’t felt like having anything.” You look at Sirius with big, sad eyes. “I haven’t been feeling very well all day.”
“I’ve got an idea as to why,” Remus hums.
Sirius has to tuck his lips in to keep from smiling. Your expression sours.
“You guys are pricks,” you decide. “Fine, I won’t complain to you about feeling sick anymore. Sorry to burden you.”
“Darling,” Remus sighs, softening a tad, “it’s not that I don’t want you to talk to me. I just wish you didn’t have anything to complain about, which I don’t think you would if you’d looked after yourself better today.”
Sirius keeps his mouth shut, watching you digest this. You gnaw on your lip. Neither you nor Remus are particularly argumentative by nature, but this is where you occasionally butt heads; Remus, who has to be right and thinks he knows what’s best for everyone (he often does), and you, who also has to be right and chafes against being told what to do.
“You’re supposed to feel bad for me,” you say, sulking still, but now with the slightest bit of humor. “You’re supposed to curse the skies and shout ‘she doesn’t deserve this!’”
Remus’ lips quirk. “Maybe next time.”
You relax a bit more. Sirius reaches for your hand, tangling his fingers with yours. When you look at him, he brings your knuckles close for a kiss. “You don’t deserve this, our lovely girl,” he says, slow and saccharine enough to bring a bit of bashfulness to your expression. “You know how you can make it up to us?”
You hum.
“Eat all of whatever Remus is making for you.”
You roll your eyes. “I was always going to eat it,” you mutter.
Sirius kisses your knuckles again happily before moving onto his next partner in need of consoling.
“Poor love,” he murmurs, squeezing himself in between Remus and his cutting board to steal a kiss. “She had you all twisted up, didn’t she?”
Much like you had, Remus rolls his eyes, but there’s fondness curled up in the corner of his mouth. He palms Sirius’ face to kiss him back, and his fingers smell like herbs.
“Next time you’ll have your script,” Sirius promises.
you looked between the two boys, both smiling softly down at you and you’re suddenly unable to decide who you feel like cuddling to sleep with tonight.
“hm.. could we all sleep together? squish in the one bed, just for tonight? please”
and how could they ever refuse when your doe eyes were gazing up at them like that?
Hi! Can i request poly!wolfstar with casual dominance, if that's what it's called??((:
Thanks for requesting!
cw: casual d/s dynamics, reader struggles with her mental health
poly!wolfstar x fem!reader ♡ 1.6k words
The flat smells like cinnamon and sweetness when Sirius steps in the front door. It heavies the air and cups warm hands around his heart.
“Oh, no,” he feigns weariness as he bends over the back of the armchair and puts his arms around Remus’ shoulders, “you’ve remembered the crock pot again, haven’t you?”
Remus looks up from his book with a low hum. “I found it underneath the sink.”
“And I thought I’d hidden it so well.” Sirius kisses the corner of his lips. There’s a niggling bit of worry that’s made itself at home around Remus’ eyes, so Sirius gives him another. “Where’s our girl?”
“In the bedroom.” The worry digs in further, but Remus looks glad at least to be sharing it. “She said she was tired when she came home, so I’m trying to give her some peace.”
What Remus doesn’t say is that you’d seemed tired, or that he thinks you’re having a nap, or that he’s happy about it. Sirius knows well enough how to read into his silences.
He sweeps his thumb over the knit fibers covering Remus’ shoulder. “And how much peace have you given her?”
“A bit over an hour’s worth.”
“Alright.” Sirius straightens, making sure to trail his fingers reassuringly over Remus’ chest as he does so. “I think that’s quite enough peace, don’t you?”
Remus doesn’t stop Sirius as he ventures down the hall and nudges open the door to the bedroom. The smell of whatever Remus is cooking in the crock pot is less pervasive in here. You’re curled up atop the covers, facing away from the door, bent over what Sirius can only imagine is a book and doesn’t believe for a second you’re paying any real attention to. You pretend you haven’t heard him come in.
He goes around the bed to the front of you, laying down parallel to brush a kiss across your lips. “Hello.”
“Hi,” you murmur. You bump your nose against his but keep your gaze downward.
“Penny for your thoughts?”
“Hm?”
“Baby.” Sirius curls his fingers under your chin, his thumb pressed into the bump of it. “Look at me.”
You lift your eyes, and the look in them threatens to crack Sirius’ heart right down its center.
“What’s the matter, darling?” he asks. Softly, though not leniently.
Your head gives a tiny shake. “Nothing.”
Sirius tsks. “Try again.”
Where Remus’ expression was plagued by worry, yours is tight with shame. After a moment, you say quietly, “I don’t know.”
Sirius looks at you. You’ve been reading the same book for days; not unusual, except your bookmark has hardly moved despite the time you spend with it. He thinks it’s an excuse to lock yourself away, but maybe the attempt at distraction isn’t working as you planned. Usually it’s you who brings up dessert after supper, but lately you haven’t mentioned it. You’ve been going to work without your cup of coffee in the mornings, showering without music, neglecting to reach for his hand or Remus’ until they take yours. You’ve been denying yourself all sorts of creature comforts. Sirius doesn’t know whether this is cause or effect of what’s dimming you, but he’s certain it plays in somehow.
Remus catches up to you before Sirius can make up his mind. “Oh, dove,” he says, “why do you still have your work clothes on?”
You look down as though you’ve forgotten what you’re wearing, and Sirius lets go of your chin to pinch the starchy material of your shirt between his fingers. When you look up, it’s to his arched brow.
“Can’t be very comfortable,” he notes.
You shrug. “I just got home.”
“You got home an hour ago.” Remus rolls his eyes. He starts for the dresser, giving your foot a tap on his way by. “Get out of those, I’ll find you something nicer.”
You look to Sirius for help, but he only flicks his stare away from the bed. With a sigh, you get up, beginning to unbutton your top.
Remus helps you step into a pair of pajama bottoms and tugs one of his jumpers over your head. It nearly matches the one he’s wearing now; Sirius makes a mental note to grab his camera at some point tonight. Remus chides you in low tones about how he thought you’d at least put on cozies before laying down, and better his jumper than your work shirt if you spill cinnamon apples in a bit.
“Is that what you’re brewing in there?” Sirius asks once you’re sufficiently swaddled in soft materials and Remus is pressing a lingering kiss to your head. “Cinnamon apples?”
Remus turns to him with a lifted brow. “Is that acceptable to you?”
“Loads better than vegetable slop.”
“Did it smell like vegetables, Sirius?”
“Oh, my love,” Sirius rolls off the bed to lay a smiling peck atop Remus’ frown, “I never really know what you’ll do once you start on the crock pot. This one does smell nice, though.” He gives your bum a pat to encourage you out of the bedroom in front of him. “It’s ready?”
“It’s ready,” Remus replies. “Don’t know that you’ll get any, though.”
Remus serves you first, gracing you with a soft-hearted look when you thank him for it. He makes his own portion before listening to Sirius grovel and simper for his own, but eventually the three of you end up with spoons clinking against bowls on the sofa, Remus on one side of you and Sirius pressed shoulder to hip against you on the other.
“This is really good,” you hum around your spoon. It’s clear to Sirius that you’re trying to dredge up some extra enthusiasm for Remus’ efforts (not to say that it isn’t very good; it is). He catches his bottom lip pushing out before he gets it back in place.
It seems like Remus can tell, too, by the smile he gives you. “Thanks. You haven’t seemed much for sweets lately. I wasn’t sure if you’d care for it.”
Your look is perplexed as you scoop up your last bite. “I don’t have a problem with sweets.”
“I know you don’t usually. I’ve just noticed you haven’t seemed to fancy them as much.”
Sirius glances at Remus. It’s only once he sees the insouciant way his boyfriend is looking down into his bowl that he catches onto what Remus is getting at. His clever boy.
You’re studying Remus, too, but you still look lost. “I think it’s the same,” you say, licking your spoon.
“There’s nothing wrong with it, lovely. I just wasn’t sure if you might be going on a health kick or something.”
“Has James been in your ear?” Sirius nudges you teasingly.
It works to ease some of the uncertainty from your brow. “God, no,” you joke back. “If you catch me making protein smoothies at the crack of dawn, then you’ll know he’s gotten to me, but until then don’t worry.”
Sirius grins, and Remus gets to the point. “Then there’s no reason for you not to have sweets when you want them,” he says, finally meeting your gaze. By the way your expression sobers you realize you’ve fallen into a trap. “You can stop punishing yourself, please.”
“Remus.” Your voice is quiet. Wounded, but ashamed underneath.
Remus matches your volume. “I’m not upset with you, sweetheart. But if you’re not going to be kind to yourself, you can’t also keep us from doing it for you.”
“Ideally you’d allow both,” Sirius adds.
“Yes,” Remus agrees, without taking his eyes off of yours. You’re surely feeling the weight of both of your boyfriends’ stares, and as you shift in your seat your fingernail finds its way between your teeth almost unconsciously.
Sirius steals it away. He gives your fingers a short squeeze before bringing them to his lips. “Be nice,” he reminds you sternly.
“Sorry,” you mumble.
“You’re not in trouble,” Remus reassures you.
“Mm,” Sirius hums, “I think you could be in a little bit of trouble.”
Remus cuts him a look. “You’re not.”
“You’re not,” Sirius relents. “You’re just not taking very nice care of our girl right now, and someone needs to set that to right. That’s our job, but it’s harder to do when you’re always hiding yourself away, yeah? Could you do us all a favor and stop hiding?”
“I’m not—”
“Say ‘yes, Sirius.’”
It’s impossible to keep a straight face when you blink in such offense. The twitch of Sirius’ mouth softens your own into something reminiscent of a smile. You sigh. “Yes, Sirius.”
“There’s our girl.” He presses a smug kiss to your knuckles. “You’re supposed to come to us when you’re having a hard time, not hide away. Try and remember that.”
“Okay.” You hold his gaze. Something sweet as the cinnamon on Sirius’ tongue passes through the air between you. “Thank you. I’m sorry I didn’t.”
“Sweet girl,” Remus shushes you, laying a heavy kiss atop your head, “would you stop apologizing? You’re fine, lovely. Do you want some more apples?”
“What?” Sirius pretends at outrage as you nod and Remus takes your bowl. “I didn’t get offered seconds.”
“The crock pot heard you slagging it off earlier and won’t give them up for you.”
“Oh, it told you that, did it?”
“Yes.” Remus has turned toward the kitchen, but Sirius hears the smirk in his voice. “We’re in confidence.”
“This is blatant, unrepentant favoritism.” Sirius throws himself across your lap, looking up at you with a pout. Your smile is his reward, though the hand you card through his hair is a nice bonus as well. “You love me, don’t you baby?”
“I love you,” you say. “You know he’ll still give you some if you go in there with your bowl.”
“I don’t know, this crock pot seems like a real bitch.”
Your smile grows enough to show teeth, and that’s what Sirius was waiting for. “Worth a try, though,” he allows, sitting up with a peck to your chin. He starts for the kitchen. “Hold on, don’t dish it all out. I’ve got some words for the crock pot.”
Miss Mae can I humbly request poly!wolfstar x reader where reader comes home from work SOAKED bc it’s raining out (forgot an umbrella) but also on the walk home, a car drove into a puddle next to her and splashes her with freezing rain water (this happened to me recently after a rlly bad day, I was too tired to be angry I just cried the whole night lmao even in the shower) and the boys just take care of her?
Keep up the beautiful work on here! Please remember to hydrate and stay warm :)
Thanks for requesting angel girl!
a/n: Please do not misconstrue my participation in the marauders fandom as support of JKR. If you’re new here and want to participate in the fandom, I encourage you to do so without participating in anything that would provide financial gain to her or her transphobic agendas
poly!wolfstar x fem!reader ♡ 679 words
Thunder booms as you close the door behind you, as if to echo the day you’ve had. The rain pounds on the roof, but aside from that your home is quiet. It feels an almost shocking contrast to what you’ve just experienced outside. Your throat contracts without reason.
“I thought you’d never make it back!” Sirius’ voice comes from the next room, moving closer. “We were about to send out the calvary, gorgeous, what…happened?”
His voice quiets when he turns the corner, spotting you in all your sodden misery dripping on the welcome mat.
“I walked,” you say.
Sirius laughs, sort of. It’s an unsure, borderline pitying sound. “I can see that,” he replies, crossing the room to you. “Jesus, why didn’t you…” He sets his hands to your shoulders, then your waist, almost like he thinks he can squeeze you out. Finally, Sirius looks you in your eyes. “Why?”
You shake your head. You doubt he notices, with the rest of you shaking anyway. “It wasn’t this bad when I started.”
It sounds like a lame excuse, but the truth is that you really thought it’d be fine. The next bus headed your direction wasn’t going to be coming for another twenty minutes, and it would hardly have been the first time you’d walked home in a drizzle. The way the sky had opened up had caught you completely by surprise, and by then weathering it the rest of the way home was the quickest way of getting out of it.
A quiet tsk draws your attention to the direction Sirius had come from.
Remus is looking at you sympathetically. “You didn’t want to get her a towel, love?”
Sirius blinks. He’s still squeezing your shoulders like he thinks he might wring some of the moisture out of you. “Right,” he says. “Can you?”
Remus has already gone, returning a moment later with the two largest towels you own. He passes one off to Sirius and wraps the other around your shoulders, a sad little divot between his brows.
“Did it rain a bit while you were out there?” he teases, while Sirius uses the other towel to squeeze out the ends of your hair.
You nod. “And,” you say, because if the world is going to make a joke of you the least you can do is tell it, “a truck drove by and sprayed me with street water, too.”
Sirius makes an aghast sound. “No.”
You shrug lamely.
“Yuck.”
“I’m sorry.” Remus lifts the corner of your towel to wipe your cheek. It’s sort of useless, only scratching the surface of how soaked you are, but you could melt at the touch. You give a harsh shiver. “I was going to ask if we wanted to go to the cinema tonight, but…”
“I think I’d rather stay here,” you say, your voice smalling, “if that’s okay.”
“Of course it is, sweetheart.” Remus’ look is impossibly gentle. Your upset is catching up with you, and he can tell, and that makes it worse. Your eyes burn. “We can stay here.”
“Hey.” Sirius’ arms wrap around you, tight. “It’s okay.”
A tear blinks from your left eye, but at least the path it makes is warm. “Sorry, it’s just…” You swallow against a blockage. “It’s been a long day.”
“Our poor girl,” Sirius coos. And it could be mocking, but there’s not a lick of teasing about him, his doting totally sincere. Sirius smushes his cheek to your wet head, and you fight the urge to remind him you were just splashed with street water.
“How about a shower?” Remus asks gently. His eyes move to Sirius, a fond amusement igniting in them. “...maybe for both of you. And I’ll have dinner ready when you come out, alright? We can watch a film here.”
You nod your thanks, wiping underneath your eyes. “I’m sorry.”
Remus tuts. “What for?”
You know a trick question when you hear one. You bend your lips into a sheepish sort of smile and let him shepherd you and Sirius deeper into your home.
oh my gosh ¹⁴⁾ trying to cope with a fever during a heatwave with poly wolfstar sounds like the ultimate summer comfort fic 💕 remus would be so good at taking care of u, and sirius would be soooo dramatic in solidarity 💖🌸
Thanks lovely <3
poly!wolfstar x fem!reader ♡ 713 words
Remus comes home from work to find your flat a cave. There are signs of life in the living room, displaced pillows and a blanket looking cast aside, but your home is eerily silent. He discovers the cause in your bedroom: you and Sirius, looking like you never left bed in the first place.
Every curtain is pulled shut, but some daylight prevails, casting the two of you in shades of grey where you lay in your pajamas atop the bedsheets. You’re spread out in every direction, clearly asleep, whereas Sirius seems to be occupying himself simply with looking at you. He glances up as Remus enters.
“Hi,” Remus whispers. “When did you get home?”
“Never left,” Sirius replies softly. He nods to you, taking a piece of your hair idly between his fingers. “She’s sick.”
A quiet, doting, oh drops from Remus’ lips. He sets down his bag and comes to the edge of the bed. “With what? Since this morning?”
Sirius nods as Remus eases himself onto the mattress beside you. There’s a flannel laid across your forehead. “She said she wasn’t feeling well when she woke up, just after you left. Seems like a cold or something. Wicked fever, though.”
You shift a bit, their voices evidently causing you to rouse. Remus takes the opportunity to lift the flannel, lying the backs of his fingers across your brow. You are terribly warm.
Your eyes open lazily. “Hey,” you mumble.
Remus can’t help but smile. “Hi.”
“Did you…” You stretch, groaning. “Is work done already? How was your day?”
His chest aches with fondness. “It was good, sweetheart. What about you? You’re not feeling well?”
Your lips pull down into a frown. Remus represses a cooish, pitying sound he knows you’ll hate. “My head hurts.”
He tuts. “We’ll have to do something about that, then.”
“We have,” Sirius chimes in. He sounds slightly offended. “Exhibit A: warm flannel.”
“Right.” Remus leans over you to give him a kiss, conciliating. “Thank you, love. What about paracetamol?”
Sirius hums proudly. “Had it.”
“Perfect.” Remus takes the flannel from your head, smoothing away some damp baby hairs. “I think we’ll probably trade this out for a cooler one until our temperature comes down, alright?”
Sirius frowns at this, but you sigh, shifting again like you’re trying to find a cool inch of bedspace.
“I’m really hot,” you admit.
“Aw, baby, we know.” Sirius takes your hand, kissing the back. “Good that you’re getting wise to it, though. We bemoan how hot you are all the time.”
That coaxes a tired smile out of you. Remus has to imagine you really are sweltering. This time of day in the summer, your un-air-conditioned flat is usually at its warmest; it’ll take a few hours to cool off, and the effects are undoubtedly worse when you’re already suffering a fever.
Remus feels along your face and the back of your neck contemplatively while Sirius coos at you. You seem in a strange enough mood to indulge him, the two of you going back and forth in low, murmuring tones. Remus knows his hands aren’t cold, but you act as though they are. You sigh quietly each time he moves his touch to a new place.
“How would you feel about having a cold bath?” he asks after a while.
You look up at him, your eyebrows raised slightly. “That actually sounds kind of nice.”
Sirius hisses through his teeth. “Yikes, babe. That’s how you know it’s really bad.”
Remus hides a smile. “Maybe Sirius will even get in there with you, yeah? Would that be nice?”
“Oh.” You’re well aware of Remus’ game, but you play along, turning your eyes up to your other boyfriend sweetly. “That would be really nice. Would you, please?”
Sirius’ eyes narrow. “You’re both terribly, undeservedly cruel to me,” he says, looking between you. “But if it’ll actually make you feel better, I’ll do it.”
“Awe.” Your lips stretch into a syrupy smile as you roll over, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. “That’s so sweet. Thank you, baby.”
Sirius pats your back, a smug uptilt to his mouth. “Yeah, well, I’m a giver.” But after a moment his brows furrow, the smirk slipping. “Does this mean you do want me to?”
Mae I love your way of writing very much! Can you do poly!wolfstar with reader who is used to love being conditional? The scenario can be anything you want <3 thank you! Sorry if my English is messy jaja
Thank you angel <3
poly!wolfstar x fem!reader ♡ 708 words
“Oh. Hello.” Remus comes inside, shaking raindrops off his umbrella. “How are you home already?”
Hands in the sink, you can only half turn to greet him. “I left work a bit early.” You throw him an impish look. “Don’t tell.”
“I’d never.” You hear the sounds of shoes and umbrella being discarded. Remus walks on near silent footsteps, but you know him well enough to anticipate the gentle pressure of his lips on the crown of your head. “I’m quite proud of you, actually. You’ve done far too much unpaid overtime for them. Now look at you, fucking off an hour early to make—what are you making? It smells good.”
“She’s making brownies,” Sirius calls from down the hall.
“Brownies?” Remus asks, delighted. “Hi, by the way.”
“Hi, handsome.” Sirius comes to greet him, hair wet and wearing the fresh cozies you laid out for him on the bed. He gives Remus a kiss. “How was your day?”
“Fine. Steadily improving.”
Sirius hums agreeably. “She drew me a lovely bath, too. Had it all ready for me when I got home.” You’re not looking at them as you dry your hands on a dishtowel, but when you glance up his grin is there waiting. “Thanks for that, sweetness.”
You shy. “It was no problem.”
“Does my hair smell nice?” He drops his head forward, shaking his wet hair out in front of you.
You sniff. “It does. It always smells nice.”
“Extra, thanks to you.”
He plants a smiling kiss on your cheek, and you bear it, feeling glittery with joy. By the way Remus is smiling at you both, you must look as pleased as you feel.
“What’s all this for?” he asks.
You shrug. “I just felt like doing something for you guys.”
The truth of it is that in the center of the kitchen table there are wilting carnations, which Sirius bought two weeks ago. You’ve yet to do anything to thank him for them. You can’t recall a time you cooked dinner for all of you in the last month. You keep meaning to take out the trash, but Remus gets to it before you can every time. You’ve not done anything very thoughtful, or kind, or doting in a long while. Sirius and Remus are so good to you, and lately you’ve not felt very deserving of their love at all.
“And,” you say, “I feel a bit bad that I’ve…not been very considerate lately.”
Sirius makes an odd face. “Considerate how?”
“I haven’t been doing as much for you as I’d like to.”
“Oh,” Remus tsks, “sweetheart, we don’t care how much you do. You know it doesn’t come down to that.”
“Yeah, I know,” you say flippantly. The edge of the counter digs into your back as you lean against it, trying to look nonchalant. “It’s just, you guys do so much for me—”
“Well, I hope we’re not supposed to be keeping score.” Sirius raises his eyebrows. “If I have to get even for that bath, sweetheart, I’m going to be rubbing your feet every night for a month.”
You laugh. “You’re off the hook.”
“Oh, good. You are too, then.”
“Well—”
“No,” Remus cuts you off, his smile as fond as it is knowing. “You don’t get to be the only one who has to earn love. It’s all of us or none of us, dove. Which is it?”
You can’t help smiling back at him, even as your face heats. “I don’t like this game.”
“Oh, poor girl,” Sirius coos. He pulls you under his arm, pouting in faux sympathy as he squeezes you. “You just have it so rough, don’t you?”
“That’s the way it has to be,” says Remus. “You don’t get to make your own rules only for yourself. And I love you just as much right now as I did yesterday.”
Sirius mushes a kiss to the side of your head. “Ditto.”
“Okay,” you relent, rolling your eyes. Internally, your heart is aglow. “If you really want to lie to me and pretend you’re going to love me the exact same when you have brownies in your stomachs, go ahead.”
can i request reader who has a allergies/very sensitive nose and basically sneezes a lot, with remus or sirius? or both too tbh
thank you lovely!
Thanks for requesting!
poly!wolfstar x fem!reader ♡ 661 words
Sirius delights in Remus’ wary look when Sirius corners him against the cinema wall.
Remus’ eyes track the patrons going past, but his low question is for Sirius. “What are you doing?”
“You have popcorn butter on your face.”
“No, I don’t.”
Sirius makes him wait, kissing the corner of Remus’ mouth soft and lingering, before he answers. “You could have.”
Remus’ facades of exasperation have worn thin over the years. Sirius sees the tick of that lovely mouth.
He mimes going into cardiac arrest, both hands to his chest, careless of the stares he invites. “Oh! Oh, it’s so beautiful. I can’t take it.”
He gets halfway to his knees before Remus is hauling him back up by the collar of his shirt. His boyfriend’s amusement is more carefully tucked away now. Remus’ gaze moves past Sirius. “Feeling better?”
Sirius turns to find you emerging from the toilets, a paper towel still in your hand. He supposes it’s a precaution. Your eyes look less watery than when you went in, which Sirius takes as a good sign.
“Yeah.” You sniffle a bit and smile. Sweet, sheepish. “Sorry for the holdup.”
“Yes, the two minutes of having to stand around and wait were just awful,” Sirius laments. He wrestles an arm around your shoulder and stamps a kiss to your head. “Don’t ever make us endure that again.”
Remus eyes you both fondly as he starts leading the way toward the exit. “I can’t take the two of you anywhere, can I?”
“It’s the cinema’s fault!” Sirius declares. “It’s all stacked against us.”
As soon as you sat down in the theater, both you and Sirius discovered reasons to be miserable. Sirius was too cold, not anticipating the air conditioner’s chill, and the perfume of someone in the next row agitated your sensitive nose. You spent most of the film stifling sneezes and stealing the tissues Sirius keeps stowed in his bag for you.
Remus looks dubious of this accusation. “Everyone else knew better than to wear a crop top to the cinema.”
“Good thing you come so prepared.” Sirius smizes at him, lifting a shoulder to rub the material of Remus’ jumper on his cheek. “What do you suggest she could have done to avoid her assault? Wear a gas mask?”
“It wasn’t that bad,” you say, though your twitchy nose tells another story. In truth, Sirius hadn’t even been able to smell the perfume which provoked you so badly, but clearly the effects are staying with you.
“Poor girl,” Remus tsks. You melt at his compassion (Sirius spares a bit of jealousy that Remus feels less sympathetic towards him, but he understands your response wholeheartedly) and let Remus slip a hand behind your back to guide you outside. “Let’s go home, yeah? Did you at least like the film?”
“Yeah,” you say as Sirius gets the door, “it was good, I…”
Sirius glances over when you trail off, and immediately he sees the problem. The bright sunlight has fallen across your face, and your eyes are watering, your face tightening.
“Bless you,” Remus says, equal parts pitying and fond, just as the first sneeze leaves you.
Sirius is already holding out a tissue, but you don’t take it, sneezing again. After the third sneeze, he presses it into your hand.
“Alright, that’s it.” He gives your nose a teasing pinch. “You’ve hit your limit. Three’s more than enough.”
“Sorry,” you mumble nasally. “Um, excuse me.”
“You’re excused,” Sirius decrees. “The sun and the woman with the perfume, however, are not.”
“I think we’re past the point of ‘excuse me’s, love.” Remus lays a gentle kiss on your head. “We’re used enough to you at this point.”
“Is that a good thing or a bad thing?” you ask wryly.
“What do you think?” Remus’ lips twitch in a hint of a smile, and Sirius gasps.
This time, both you and Remus catch him before he can drop to his knees.
