summary: A mid-match brawl between you and Malfoy is all the proof Remus and Sirius could ever need that you are, without a doubt, their daughter.
tags: wolfstar!daughter. fem!reader. mentions of blood and violence, but it’s in the name of the greater good. general parenting wolfstar fluff.
a/n: hiiiii is this anything???? not sure where this came from but i sort of liked it too much for it to be forgotten in my drafts. as always, likes and reblogs are greatly appreciated, enjoy!! xx
…
“Ow!”
“Stop moving.”
You press your lips together, swallowing a hiss when your father presses the ice pack over your cheekbone. It only makes your ire stronger, taking up most of your body and coursing through your veins the longer you sit in silence, begrudgingly letting him tend to your face.
Somewhere deep in the infirmary, a groan echoes loudly, followed by Madam Pomfrey’s quiet but stern scolding. You roll your eyes at Malfoy’s dramatics–you didn’t even hit him that hard.
Remus levels you with a look. “Stop that.” he taps your chin with his finger, prompting you to look away from the small group gathered around your perpetual archnemesis’ bed.
With an eyeroll, you turn your head to meet your father’s eyes, warm yet swirling with suppressed amusement.
“Was this necessary?” you ask, crossing your arms much like a toddler throwing a tantrum. Your father hums, turning to take the balm from his lap. “It was an accident.”
He pauses to send you another look, “You didn’t mean to get into a fight with Malfoy’s spawn?” he asks, his free hand guiding the cloth back to your nose, blood still runs down and to your chin with no signs of stopping anytime soon.
“No, I didn’t mean to fall off my broom.” you say quietly, a hiss escaping you at the pulsating pain in your nose. “That git deserved every bloody punch–And I’d do it again!” you turn to Malfoy, pointedly raising your voice for him to listen.
“Fuck off, Black.” one of his minions calls out, not even casting you a glance.
You bristle, making a move to stand from the bed. Remus is quicker though, hands at your shoulders pushing you back down.
“Enough.” he says firmly, hands still pressing down at your shoulders. You scoff indignantly, looking away from your father’s frown. “You’ve proved your point, no need to get into more trouble.”
“Trouble?” you repeat, aghast. Remus raises an eyebrow. “Why must I be the one getting in trouble? He started it.”
He nods, taking the healing balm to dab it at your skin. “I believe you started it.”
“He did–I wasn’t the one calling his girlfriend slurs here and there!” your father frowns, leaning back as the anger seems to take over you once again.
He lowers the healing balm to his lap as you huff.
“He doesn’t even have a girl, mind you. Or boy. Whatever he’s into. No wonder he’s got that rotten attitude, if I hadn’t shagged in ages, I too would be an insufferable twat.” you continue raging on, growing momentum the more said boy milks his barely existing injury from the other side of the infirmary.
Remus lets out an amused laugh, shaking his head as he listens to you monologuing about the injustice of your punishment, whatever it may be. He dabs gently at the bits of skin he can manage as you move your arms around to get your point across.
“Merlin–what’s that?” you purse your lips, face twisting in disgust as he caps the healing cream. “It smells awful.”
“Just some healing cream.” he explains briskly, patting behind him to search for his wand. You follow his movements with a raised eyebrow. “Are you ready?”
“Ready for what?”
“I need to tend to your nose, it can’t stay like that.”
You sigh rather dejectedly, nodding as you lower the cloth from your nose. Remus tuts, readily raising his wand as the blood cascades down your face. Just as he mutters a quick episky, followed by your pained shriek, the doors to the infirmary slam open to reveal a very distressed Sirius storming into the room with your friends in tow.
“Where’s my darling girl?”
Said darling girl, Remus wants to say, is currently leaning over her thighs, hands pressed over her face as she comes down the pain of the bones in her nose snapping into place–after getting into a rather terrible brawl with her cousin, no less. But yeah, she’s a darling.
He settles for a quick wave, beckoning his husband to their side of the infirmary. Sirius goes obediently, swarm of teenagers behind him. He does cut a glare at Malfoy’s huddled bunch as he walks past them on their way out.
Remus is awfully reminded how he has to handle your attitude multiplied by two.
Sirius steps to you, evidently making a move to get closer, though a blur of hair bypasses him in a hurry. Soon Hermione is crouched by your side where you’re sitting by the edge of the bed, her hands on your knees as you seemingly have swallowed down the pain from your nose.
“Oh, hi.” you breathe out, blinking when you sit straight to look at her eyes. Despite your noble intentions to suppress it, you visibly soften when she frowns worriedly. “Hello.”
It had been, apparently, the wrong thing to say.
Hermione swats your knee with her mittens. “Hello?! You nearly gave me a bloody heart attack and all you have to say is hello?!”
“Um,” you cut a quick glance at Harry, then Ron. When your eyes land on Remus, he only shrugs. “yeah?”
“I’m cross with you.”
You gawp, but it’s Harry who speaks first. “Come on, ‘Mione, you didn’t hear what that git said.”
“Yeah!” you nod, pointing at your cousin, feeling vindicated and not at all sorry for what you did.
Sirius raises an eyebrow, sharing a look with his husband as he studies you. “You’re telling me all this started ‘cause he taunted you? Like one does at Quidditch?”
You point at said spawn, still groaning as Madam Pomfrey tends to his made up injury. “He called her things!”
“What things?”
You level him with a look, and Sirius finally notices first hand how much you’ve inherited from him.
“You know what.”
“I’ve told you countless times, y/n, I don’t need you to fight that sod for me.” Hermione steps in, the edge on her voice softening as she scans you over. “While I appreciate the sentiment, I don’t want you getting into trouble.”
“Does that mean we can?” Harry perks up, and you mirror his smile. Both your fathers groan in exasperation.
“No one’s getting into another fight.” Remus says, standing up, looking into everyone’s eyes to get his point across. “Doubt that scrawny little boy can handle another scare, anyway.”
“Scare?!” Malfoy shrieks from his bed, leaning over his elbow as he glares at your huddled bunch. You stand with a similar expression. “That bloody witch hit me!”
“Oh, sod off, Malfoy.” Ron drawls, rolling his eyes at the blond boy. “She barely even touched you.”
“You deserved it, anyway.”
Malfoy purses his lips angrily. “My father will hear about this.”
Sirius barks a laugh. “Yeah, yeah, alright. What will daddy Malfoy do? Hasn’t he told you the share of bloody noses we so lovingly gifted him?”
Remus groans, dropping his face to his hands.
“Sirius.”
You smirk, passing a sleeve over your face to clean the blood off your chin. “It seems some things are inherited, don’t you think?”
“Oh, absolutely,” Malfoy nods, mirroring your smirk. “Just like your need to associate with the likes of mudbloods.”
It’s at record time in which you’re moving, stomping across the infirmary with clenched fists. Sirius scrambles after you.
“You fucking loathsome evil little cockroach!” His smirk is quickly gone from his face as your fist connects with his face again.
“Miss Black!” Madam Pomfrey gasps, and you huff as Sirius pulls you back. His own smirk barely contained.
“I’m alright,” you mutter, waving your hand as you let your dad pull you away from the boy’s bed. He guides you back to yours. “Fuck–what do they feed these inbreds?” you pass your thumb over your knuckles.
“Oi, be careful with that word. I’m inbred too.” Sirius says with a slight frown, though it’s quickly eclipsed by a grin. “That was a good one, my love.”
“Don’t indulge her.” Remus scolds firmly, beckoning you to sit back on your bed. He uncaps the healing cream again with a sigh.
“Uh, professor?” Hermione steps in, rather shyly. “Can I?” she points at the cream, and you flush red at her insinuation.
Your fathers share a look.
“Of course, Hermione.” Remus nods, handing her the cream with a soft smile. He steps aside to let her sit in front of you.
You swallow nervously when she sits on the bed, gentle hands reaching for yours to dab the healing cream. Sirius bites back a smile at your pink cheeks and the way you’re looking around the room to avoid her gaze.
“It’s alright, ‘Mione. Doesn’t hurt that much.”
The girl only raises an eyebrow, pointedly dabbing one last time at your knuckles. “I could hear the crack of your bones from here.”
“Why is everyone attacking me today?” you sigh in faux offense, fixing your Quidditch gear. “If I remember correctly, I got into the fight but Harry cancelled the match.”
“Oi!” your cousin frowns, surprised at being thrown under the bus. “Don’t drag me into your mess.”
Ron crosses his arms. “Yeah, Harry, was cancelling the match necessary? We almost beat them.”
Sirius snorts. “That you did.” He nudges you jokingly, and you laugh.
Hermione sends you a stern look, and you quickly disguise your chuckle with a cough.
It seems the high adrenaline begins settling down as you lean back, resting your elbow over the railing as you listen with a deadpan look as Madam Pomfrey tends to a bruised, jaw-dislocated Malfoy.
Remus hums. “Do you think we can leave you here a bit without getting into a row again?” he asks, sending you his most challenging look.
“Yeah,” you send him your most innocent smile in return. “I’ve already proven my point.”
Your father sighs, but Sirius steps in. “While I’m enjoying this very much, I do have to agree with your dad, love. Enough violence for today.”
“Yeah, I know.” you say, blushing harder when you accidentally look at Hermione. An unconscious move, really. “I’ll behave, I promise.”
While they know you’re speaking the truth, your fathers turn to Harry anyway, who nods much like a soldier accepting orders.
“I’ll take her to the common room as soon as Madam Pomfrey dismisses her.”
Sirius beams, throwing an arm around his shoulders. “Thank you, Prongslet.”
“You’re not taking me anywhere, Potter.” you hiss. “I’m perfectly capable of taking my own arse to the common room.”
“Not with that attitude you’re not.” Sirius quips, pausing his ruffling at his godson’s hair to turn to you. “An independence ban is in order after today.”
“What?!”
Harry has the nerve to laugh. “You heard the boss, Black.”
“Bite me.”
“Alright, that’s enough.” Remus steps in, though his lips are quirked in a bemused little smile. “No one is biting anyone, and you,” he points at you. “We're not done. I’ll be expecting you at the cottage later.”
You swallow nervously, nodding at your father’s firmness. “Of course.”
Ron whistles. “Wow, Black, haven’t seen you freeze up since that time Hermione–”
“Shut your sodding mouth, Weasley.” you seethe, sending him your most powerful glare. Doesn’t really work as your face turns crimson red, Hermione does as well. “I’ll hex the living daylights out of you.”
“Calm down, woman.” The redhead chuckles, looking like he’s completely enjoying your reaction. His eyes flicker from your flushed form to Hermione. “Don’t get your knickers in a twist.”
“Don’t talk about my girlfriend’s knickers, Ronald.” Hermione hums, capping the healing cream with eerie calmness. “Or I’ll be the one hexing you.”
Sirius gawps. “Girlfriend?!” he whips his head at you, eyes wide and swirling with every emotion known to man. Offense mostly. “Since when?! Why wasn’t I aware of this?”
“Dad.”
“Speak, child.” Sirius says, tone balanced between demanding and joking. You send Remus an exasperated look. “I’ve just created a new ban for you, a secrets ban. Out with it now.”
Remus raises an eyebrow at his husband, sighing as he pulls him away from you. “Your daughter just got into an awful brawl and you’re offended ‘cause of this?”
“I ought to be offended!”
Harry nudges you softly, leaning over to speak to your ear conspiratorially. “And you thought my mum’s reaction was melodramatic.”
It had been, apparently, the wrong thing to say–Again.
“Lily knows?!”
“For fuck’s sake,” you mutter, coincidentally at the same time Remus does. Unconsciously mirroring the way you drop your face to your hands. You send Harry your best glare. “Thanks a lot.”
“Pads,” Remus sighs, hands at his husband’s shoulders to guide him away from your bed. “That’s enough, you have things to do.”
“Well now I have more things to do!” Sirius calls out, flailing his arms around. “I shall pay Lilibeth a visit.”
“You will not do such a thing.” Remus says firmly, pinching the bridge of his nose. “You’re coming with me to talk to Dumbledore to solve this mess and later we’ll go home and prepare supper. No more nonsense.”
Sirius levels him with a look, one Remus returns with more intensity that has your shoulders gravitating to your ears. You’re secretly thankful that you’re, for once, not on the receiving end of either those looks.
Your father sighs, relenting despite himself. “Alright, whatever.” Sirius waves him off, turning quickly to send you a quick kiss. You flush with teenage mortification. “See you later, my girl. We have things to discuss as well.”
A muffled groan comes from their side of the infirmary, Malfoy leans over his elbow again. His other hand pressed hard over a bloodied cloth.
He points at you. “We’re not done, Black. You will pay for this.”
“I will gladly beat your arse again, Malfoy. Just say when.” you call out, not even casting him a glance. Hermione throws her arms out in exasperation.
“Listen, you little–”
“Mr. Malfoy, stop moving.” Madam Pomfrey says firmly, guiding him down on the bed.
“Yeah, spawn. Listen to the matron, she can be quite terrifying sometimes.” Sirius drawls boredly. Madam Pomfrey sends him a deadpan look. “But lovely most of the time, Poppy. Don’t listen to me.”
“Typical of your lot,” Malfoy sneers, rolling his eyes as the matron tends to his nose. “Storming in and doing a spectacle of yourselves, bunch of classless blood traitors.”
Your hands twitch, fists clenching to their own accord. Your knees jerk forward as if to jump to make your way to him, however both things happen at once. Madam Pomfrey taps his nose and casts a quick episky, causing the boy to wail and scream bloody murder.
“I told you to stop moving, Mr. Malfoy.” Madam Pomfrey says, shaking her head as she collects her ingredients. Not at all glancing at the boy crying and whimpering in pain. “Once the pain subdues, you’re free to head to your dorm.”
You huff, feeling your girlfriend’s hands on your shoulders, pushing you down on the bed despite your own futile attempt to stand. Hermione levels you with another stern look, and you only roll your eyes in annoyance.
Ron laughs. “Calm down, we’ll get him soon enough.” he pats your back in camaraderie, you smile at him with mischief.
“Ronald.”
“What?” the redhead shrugs, looking between you three with raised hands in surrender. “Can’t I give my friend some moral support?”
“Not when it comes to hitting someone.”
“Bit rich coming from you, isn’t it, ‘Mione?” Harry smirks, nudging you with a mischievous smile of his own. “Weren’t you the one planning an elaborate hex for the Slytherins?”
She scowls as you snicker with your friends, sound echoing throughout the infirmary and drowning out the groans from your perpetual arch nemesis.
From the other side of the room, your fathers share a fond smile. Watching as you laugh around your friends despite all of you being in big trouble. A lovely parallel to the way Sirius would get into trouble for defending his boyfriend’s honor, spending countless hours between detention and the infirmary juggling all kinds of punishments and healing treatments. They watch as you let your own girlfriend tend to your injury after fighting for her honor, muttering crude jokes with Harry and Ron between pauses. They have never felt prouder of calling you their daughter.
wolfstar fluff thought (to feel happy again)
sirius getting a tattoo with remus’ initials right behind his left ear. it’s remus’ favorite place to kiss because sirius is so sensitive there. it’s hidden mostly behind his long hair and remus feels this giddy possessiveness knowing he’s the ONLY one who gets to brush those soft strands aside and press his lips right there.
the first time he saw it, remus nearly lost his mind. and he’s been a little insane about it ever since. any chance he gets, he keeps kissing there again and again, licking, lingering and soft little pecks too, until sirius is nothing but a sighing, giggling mess in his arms.
for the event, how about wolfstar x reader innocence kink/pain kink. not so innocence but doesn't have any experience + shes shy, cries of pain, there's blood, but it's all consensual and they are sweet and making sure she's ok . they are not moking or anything, just excited.
all smutty, comfort, fluffy in the end (aftercare)
if u don't write wolfstar, it could be with R, S, or J separately. It would be fantastic if u could write all of them, but maybe I'm asking too much (sorry)
hope it's not weird ahahahah
love u, byeeee
⁀➷ Craving the Pain
✧ Pairing | Wolfstar x F!Reader
✧ A/N | Firstly, love you too! Thank you for the request (for future reference, I will definitely write about anything involving each member of the Marauders!). I hope you like this and it's not too intense!
15k celebration masterlist | my main masterlist 📚
AO3 Link
You’re warm, tucked between them on the lavish bed.
Sirius’ fingers trace up and down your arm, slow and rhythmic, and Remus watched you like he always does, like he already knows what you’re about to feel before you do.
“Still with us, Pup?” he asks gently against your skin.
You nod. Small. Evidently shy.
You’re always shy. The three of you have been together for weeks now, sharing tentative kisses, awkward gasps, the sweetest explorations under sheets. But this is different.
You’d asked the two of them, face hot to the touch, avoiding eye contact, if they would take it a little further tonight.
“I… I don’t know what I’ll like,” you had to admit. “But I want to try.”
And Sirius and Remus had said yes. They always say yes with such care. But only after a conversation that made your tummy flutter, about consent, about safe words (green, yellow, red), about never doing anything you couldn’t come back from. They made you feel utterly safe.
“You’re in charge of everything,” Sirius says again now, brushing a ringed finger down the slope of your neck. “Even if you’re begging us to keep going, if you say red, we stop.”
You nod again. Still small.
Remus smiles, eyes creasing, and kisses your forehead. Then they start.
Sirius sucks at your nipple whilst Remus kisses your inner thigh, their touches soft against your nude skin. You squirm, body buzzing. You’ve been wet for ages, thighs damp and slipping together, before they’d even touched you properly.
Then Sirius’s teeth graze your nipple. Not hard, just enough to make you jump.
“Ah!”
They both still.
You blink up at him, chest heaving. That felt surprisingly good.
Sirius tilts his head, eyes dark and curious. “You liked that, didn’t you?”
Sirius leans down, his long hair covering his face as he carefully bites your pebbled nipple. This time, he pinches the other at the same time, tugging slightly, and that makes your back arch.
Remus looks up from between your thighs, grinning slowly and blooming. “Oh, you sweet little thing, your body doesn’t lie,”
You whimper. There’s heat pulsing through you, not just from arousal, but from something deeper. That pinch of pain seems to flip a switch inside you, sharpening the pleasure and making everything more vivid.
Your nerves, already hypersensitive, light up as the discomfort gives way to something warmer, spreading like honey in your veins.
“That’s your hormones,” Remus says, like he’s reading your mind. “Your brain floods your body with endorphins and adrenaline in response to pain. When we follow it with please…”
“It gets addictive,” Sirius finishes with a kiss to your collarbone.
The two of them built up slowly.
A soft spank to your inner thigh. A pinch to your nipples. A sharp bite to the curve of your shoulder as Sirius holds your legs open and watches Remus' tongue push into your soaked pussy.
Each time, you jerk. Crying out and trembling for more, having never felt anything like this before. As time goes on, you find your internal restraints to be shy and embarrassed by your reactions, which seem to calm as you're whimpering and groaning loudly.
“You like being out, good little toy, don’t you?” Sirius breathes heavily against your throat. “Our beautiful girl. All soft and crying for us.”
“Please, Siri,” you whimper, eyes glassy with unshed tears.
“What do you want, love?” Remus asks gently, dragging two thick fingers through your folds. “Say it for us.”
“I want you to fuck me. Both of you. Please!”
You’ve never said anything like that before. You don't even realise you're crying until Remus cups your cheek and brushes away the tears. You expect concern. Instead, he smiles.
“You're doing so well for us,” he praises sweetly.
Sirius fucks you first.
You’re on your stomach, Remus stroking your hair, whispering how proud he is as Sirius slides in from behind. He’s thick, stretching you wide, your little gasps turning to broken sobs as he bottoms out.
The angles are harsh, each thrust grinding against your cervix, and it hurts, but that hurt fuels the buzz already building in your bloodstream. Each time Sirius slaps your ass, you jolt forward on the bed with a sharp cry, and Remus holds you still, cooing praise in your ear.
“That’s it, pup. Taking him so well.”
The pain blends into pleasure. Or maybe it becomes a pleasure. Your brain's too fuzzy not to tell. You can't think. You can barely breathe as you bite onto the bed sheet. Your entire body is vibrating.
And then Sirius stops harshly, voice filled with worry, not that you noticed. “Look at her thighs.”
There’s blood. Thin streaks that also coated his cock.
Remus goes still, “Sirius. Pull out, now.”
You don't realise what's happened. Not at first. You're still moaning pathetically, hips rutting against the mattress, not noticing that you've stopped speaking entirely. That the tears haven't stopped, and your body feels boneless.
“She's gone,” Remus acknowledges your state, brushing beads of sweat from your face. “She's deep in subspace.”
“Shit. Shit, pup, can you hear me?” Sirius panics, suddenly, and gently touches your face, stroking your jaw.
You blink slowly, eyes unfocused. You no longer even feel the pain.
Remus mutters a quick spell to clean and heal where you've been spanked roughly, careful to keep his hands soft, movements exaggerated and calm. Sirius wraps you in the duvet and lifts you into his lap, rocking soothingly.
“You did so well,” he encourages. “But we went too far, and I'm so sorry.”
Remus returns with water and a chocolate bar. “We’re right here. You're safe now. Just need to bring you back to us, pip.”
They whisper your name over and over again.
They feed you sips of water. Rub circles into your back. Remus kisses every inch of your hands, as if he's grounding you back into your body. Sirius keeps saying how proud he is, how much he loves you, that you're perfect, and that they're so lucky.
Eventually, you blink with more clarity.
“Hurts,” you croak.
“I know,” Remus breathes, pulling you into his chest. “You're okay now.”
You start crying again. But it's a different kind of cry, safe and soft.
Sirisu presses his cheek to yours. “No more pain tonight. Just cuddles and love, yeah?”
You nod slowly, sinking into them. The weight of the blanket, of their bodies wrapped around you, makes you feel like you’re floating.
You don’t remember falling asleep.
You only remember the way Remus hummed into your temple, and how Sirius kissed your hand and whispered, “Next time, we’ll take it even slower.”
wolfstar drabble | they raised harry btw | eleven y/o harry | wc 315 | rating g
Harry clung to Remus’s coat like it was armor. The noise of Platform Nine and Three-Quarters pressed in around them, steam curling through the air, owls shrieking from their cages. The scarlet train gleamed.
“I don’t want to go,” Harry muttered, voice muffled against the fabric.
Sirius crouched down, grin crooked but soft. “You have to, pup. They won’t let me keep you home forever. Believe me, I tried.”
Harry didn’t laugh. His hands fisted tighter. “What if they don’t like me?”
Remus smoothed Harry’s fringe, his touch steady. “Then they’re fools. And you’ll find better people.”
Sirius leaned closer. “And if anyone gives you trouble, write to us. I’ll hex their father.”
“Padfoot,” Remus said mildly.
“What? I said father, not them.”
Harry’s mouth twitched, but his eyes were glassy. “What if I miss you?”
“You will,” Remus said, voice quiet. “That’s all right.”
Sirius ruffled his hair. “We’ll miss you more. We’ll count the days till you come home for Christmas. Moony will make that awful treacle tart you like.”
Remus smiled. “And Sirius will pretend he helped.”
“I do help,” Sirius protested. “I taste-test.”
The train whistle blew. The sound made Harry flinch. Remus knelt and fixed his collar, then pressed a kiss to his temple. “Go on, love.”
Sirius swallowed hard. “Make us proud, kid.”
Harry hesitated, then threw his arms around both of them. “You already are,” he said.
Remus blinked fast. Sirius sniffed and muttered something about dust in the air.
When Harry finally climbed aboard, he leaned out the window, waving until the train curved out of sight.
Remus stood still long after the steam cleared.
Sirius’s voice was rough when he said, “He’s got James’s bravery.”
Not because he didn’t own one—he had several, all patched and faded—but because mornings were chaos, and his mind was always somewhere between lesson plans and moon charts.
Sirius noticed long before Remus did.
One bitter December morning, he tossed something woolen and dark across the Gryffindor table. It landed in Remus’s porridge with a wet plop.
Remus blinked. “Was that necessary?”
“If I hand it to you nicely, you won’t wear it,” Sirius said, utterly unapologetic. “This way you have no choice.”
Remus fished it out, shaking off bits of oatmeal.
“It’s yours.”
Sirius shrugged. “I run hot. You don’t.”
There was no teasing in his voice—not really. Just a straightforward practicality that felt almost intimate.
Later, walking across the snowy courtyard, Remus pulled the scarf tighter around his neck. It was warm, smelled faintly of cedar and smoke… and Sirius.
Sirius nudged him with an elbow. “See? Told you. Looks better on you anyway.”
Remus didn’t look at him, but he smiled—small, hidden, impossible to suppress.
“Thank you,” he murmured.
Sirius grinned like he’d been waiting all morning to hear it.
Hi i was wondering if you could do a poly wolfstar fic with a fem reader where she feels left out of the relationship because they start to drifting apart which then leads to them breaking up. But then Sirius and Remus realises what they did wrong but reader just doesnt want to because shes scared they'll leave her out again.💗
hi angel! thank you for the request ♡
meant to be | poly!wolfstar
part 1 | part 2
tw: angst
poly!wolfstar x reader
You lean against the doorway, quietly observing them. Something you always seem to be doing these days. Your eyes rake over Sirius, with his legs propped up on one arm of the couch while his head lies in Remus’ lap.
Sirius laughs, and the smile Remus gives him while he strokes his hair is so full of love. It makes you wonder if Remus thought he personally strung up all the stars in the sky or something.
You try not to let it get to you but it does anyway, that same stinging sensation in your chest, as though someone had pierced your heart.
It felt silly to feel as hurt as you did. The boys were so hopelessly in love, it was endearing. They had claimed to love you the same way too just a few weeks ago. When they first proclaimed their love, it felt surreal. Perfect. But now, it felt like a chore.
Not to you, never to you. Loving them would never feel like a chore to you, you were sure of that. But what if they felt that way? What if you were just an experiment gone wrong?
Maybe you were just overthinking the whole thing. Or maybe this relationship was a mistake.
Sirius and Remus perfectly complemented each other already, it was like Remus was a container and Sirius was water. And you were the lid that just never fit right. Remus was calm, peaceful, loving. Sirius was fun, snarky, and full of affection.
What were you? Just a random girl who had the fortune of stumbling across the lovely couple.
They hadn’t done anything in particular to upset you, they never would. But it was the way they instinctively walked closer together, their fingers interlaced. The way they glanced at each other, having silent conversations you would never understand. How they seemed to know everything about the other, from every inch of his skin to every thought in his head.
It was like they could see colours you couldn’t see, speak a language you didn’t understand.
You told yourself it was fine, they had just known each other longer. They stayed in the same dorm room and took the same classes, of course they were bound to be closer.
But wasn’t that exactly the problem? Their lives were inexplicably intertwined, and it felt like you were trying to wedge yourself in. It left you feeling like the side character in your own story.
You heard your name and snapped out of your daze, blinking as you find Sirius grinning stupidly at you from where he lazed on the sofa. His expression softens when your eyes meet his. “Love, come over here! We’ve been looking for you all day.”
That was a lie, your brain screamed at you. You spotted them chatting in lessons, eating together at the Great Hall, taking a walk in the garden. They were not looking for you, it was a lie.
Remus smiles softly, beckoning you over. You will yourself to move, to go sit with your boyfriends, but it’s like your legs have turned to stone.
You silently stand there, watching them. You try to muster a smile or open your mouth to say something. But nothing comes out except for a quiet wrangled sort of noise.
Remus looks at you strangely. Sirius frowns, his eyebrows creasing. He pushes his palms down on the couch, elbows buckling as he sits up a bit. “Y/N, baby? Why don’t you come on over?”
You watch Remus gently move his fingers to Sirius’ forehead to smoothen the lines between his eyebrows, and him turning around to give the sandy-haired boy a lovesick smile. That simple action causes the last ounce of willpower in you to break.
You clench your fists to stop your hands from trembling as you suck in a deep breath, feeling the ache in your chest start to grow. Was it jealousy? Anger? Hurt?
Sirius seemed ready to move to your side right that moment, looking utterly confused as to what was wrong. But Remus kept his hand wrapped around Sirius’ bicep, a silent order to let you be.
“Angel,” Remus breathes quietly. You visibly flinch at the term of endearment, not missing the flash of hurt across his face which he quickly replaced with his usual stoicism.
Your heart was thudding so loudly you wondered if the boys could hear it. You swallow the lump in your throat, stuck between wanting to burn the bridges between you or to walk across them.
“I…” your voice comes out scratchy as you try to explain yourself. You clear your throat, watching Sirius’s frown deepen and Remus bite his lip anxiously.
“I don’t think I want to,” you say quietly, feeling your heart sink to your stomach. You knew Remus would understand, always the perceptive one. It was obvious in the way his eyes widened and his grip on Sirius loosened.
But Sirius just tilts his head, looking at you quizzically. “Okay…? You can sit on the other couch then. You can sit anywhere you want to, love.”
You wince, glancing at Remus for help. But he’s looking at you with that sad look on his face now, the one he only wears when he sees Sirius crying after receiving a letter from home, or when you show up at Hogwarts after the holidays with bruises all over. Did it really hurt him that much?
A sigh escapes you as you decide to try to be gentle with it. That’s the least you could do, after the boys had so generously let you in on their already perfect relationship. You suck in a shaky breath, mustering the courage to croak out the words.
“It’s not about the couch, Siri. I… I mean this,” you mutter, gesturing between the three of you. Immediately, your head ducks down, scared of what you’ll find if you look back up at them.
An uncomfortable silence is cast over the room, the kind that makes your skin crawl. A beat of quietness passes before you find the strength to raise your head, peeking at the boys. Sirius looks cracked open, his face a picture of anguish.
“What?” he rasps out. Remus’ features are tight with something that looks like grief, his hand ghosting over Sirius’ ankle to provide the little comfort he can.
The croakiness of his voice makes your heart feel like it’s being cleaved in two. But you knew you had to do this. For your sake, and for theirs.
“I can’t do this anymore,” you mumble in a rush, eager to get it out and not have to endure watching them in pain for too long. Sirius stays silent, his lips pursed so tight you think he might burst into tears.
“Why?” Remus asks quietly, gaze still trained onto yours as he rubs circles onto Sirius’ ankle comfortingly. “I… I don’t fit in. You guys are perfect for each other. But I just don’t fit in,” you admit, feeling guilt clawing at you. “This just isn’t working,”
“We’ll make it work,” Sirius says immediately, and the sincerity in his voice almost makes you want to concede. But you know that’s not possible. “Just… just tell us what we’re doing wrong, we’ll fix it. I swear.”
Remus nods slowly, looking at you expectantly. The hope on their faces make you feel like the worst person in the world as you give them all you have to offer - a small shake of your head.
“But love,” Sirius murmurs, his voice cracking. “Why… what… where did we mess up?”
“It wasn’t you guys,” you say immediately, even though it was. You just can’t bear to see the pain etched on the black-haired boy’s face. “It’s just not meant to be. We’re better off as friends.”
“But we love you,” Remus speaks up quietly. Sirius nods earnestly.
“I can’t,” you say, relieved that your voice comes out evenly. It’s a miracle with how hard you’re fighting to hold back tears. “I can’t do this. The both of you are always together, and I'm not blaming you for it. It’s in your nature to be together-”
“It’s in your nature to be with us too, dove,” Sirius says, the anguish in his voice leaving to make way for pure sadness.
“It’s not,” your voice coming out as a pathetic sob. “I’m not like you guys. I’m not fun, I don’t take the same classes, I don’t ever get what you mean. We’re just not right for each other.”
You think you can see something break in Remus when you utter that last sentence. Sirius bites down on his quivering lip and wraps his arms around himself, as though physically restraining himself from pulling you into a hug.
This isn’t the first time they’ve ignored what you said, isn’t the first time they didn’t respond. It happened on a daily basis, for Merlin’s sake. But this is the only time it hurt as much as it did right now.
You glance at them one last time, heart breaking at their pained expressions. But none of them say a word as you turn around and leave the room, letting you go all too easily.
"No, i'm not a sheep despite what I must look like." Sirius says to Bryn, a sheepdog whom Sirius believes is looking at him funny due to the thick jumper he's wearing. It was another Remus-made item; fluffy and white as mountain snow, embroidered with several flowers – dog roses and pimpernels and harebells in bright crewel wool. And mushing down raven curls, was a bobble hat to match.
Bryn gives an enthusiastic wag of his tail, nosing at Sirius's jean-clad leg.
"You don't look like a sheep, Sirius." Remus says with a roll of his eyes. His own jumper was oat-colored and embroidered with potatoes, carrots, parsnips, rutabagas, and prasine cursive lettering spelling out 'Let's ROOT for each other'.
"What do you mean? Doris and I are practically twins. Isn't that right, Doris?" Sirius asks one of the sheep that were grazing in the pasture. Doris continues to graze, rather than answering him.
"She doesn't seem to think so." Remus grins.
"She does. She told me so in my head. Twin telepathy and all that." Sirius says, petting the head of the sheepdog that's been trying to get his attention.
