summary: after a long meeting with the order sirius invites y/n to stay for… just a drink
warnings: kissing, mentions of age gap, absolutely infatuated sirius (bc i like men who shower me with compliments and affection) also slight dumbledore hate
a/n: once again i went insane with this. there are so many other things i should be writing for you but i just have to share this
The room was dimly lit, the flickering candles casting long shadows across the mismatched chairs and the weathered wooden table. The members of the Order of the Phoenix sat packed tightly together, their faces solemn as Dumbledore spoke. The tension in the air was palpable, the kind that settled deep in the bones and refused to let go.
Y/N sat near the middle of the table, between Remus and Sirius. Her arms were crossed over her chest, her jaw tight as she listened to Dumbledore outline the latest developments. Her patience was thin tonight, thinner than usual. The constant weight of the war, the sleepless nights, and now the decisions being made without enough consideration for their consequences—it was all too much.
Dumbledore’s voice carried on, steady and commanding. “We need to establish a stronger presence near Diagon Alley. The Death Eaters are becoming bolder in their attacks, and we must be prepared for the possibility of a strike closer to the heart of wizarding London.”
Y/N’s fingers tapped against her arm, her brow furrowing. She could feel the frustration building, a knot tightening in her chest. “I don’t see how that helps,” she muttered under her breath.
Her voice was quiet, but Sirius, sitting to her right, caught it. He glanced at her, his lips twitching into a faint smirk. She always had something to say, always pushed back against authority when she thought they were wrong. It was one of the things he admired about her— her fire.
Dumbledore continued, unbothered. “A visible presence in the area will serve as both a deterrent and a warning. However, we must exercise caution. Any unnecessary provocation could lead to—”
“With all due respect, sir,” Y/N interrupted, her voice cutting through the room, “standing around looking official isn’t going to stop them. They already know we’re here, and they’re not afraid of us. If anything, it’ll just make us targets.”
The room fell silent. All eyes turned to her, some surprised, others wary. Y/N felt the weight of their stares but held her ground, her gaze steady on Dumbledore.
“Y/N,” Remus murmured beside her, his voice low and calm. He placed a hand on her back, a gesture meant to steady her. “Not now.”
The touch was gentle but firm, and Y/N felt herself deflate slightly. She bit back a retort and leaned back in her chair, her arms still crossed tightly over her chest.
Sirius’s eyes flicked to the spot where Remus’s hand rested on Y/N’s back. His smirk faded, replaced by a subtle tightening of his jaw. He knew the gesture was innocent—Remus had always been protective of her, just as he was with everyone in their group—but it still bothered him. There was an ease between them, a quiet understanding, that Sirius couldn’t help but envy.
And yet, he had no right to feel that way. She wasn’t his.
He leaned back in his chair, forcing his gaze away from them and pretending to focus on the parchment in front of him. But his thoughts refused to cooperate.
The age gap. That damned age gap.
It was the reason he hadn’t made a move, the thing that held him back every time he caught himself watching her for too long or thinking about her late at night. She was young, vibrant, full of life. He was weighed down by a lifetime of mistakes and regrets. What right did he have to want her?
Dumbledore’s voice pulled him back to the present. “Now, onto the matter of Hogsmeade,” he said, gesturing to the map on the table. “There have been reports of suspicious activity near the Shrieking Shack. I’ll need volunteers to investigate—discreetly, of course.”
Y/N straightened slightly, her interest piqued. Sirius could see the determination in her eyes, the way she was already considering the assignment. But before she could speak, Remus gave her a subtle nudge with his elbow.
“Don’t,” he murmured, his tone light but pointed.
She shot him a look, half annoyed, half amused. Sirius felt a twinge of something—jealousy, irritation, he wasn’t sure—as he watched the exchange. They had their own unspoken language, a bond that had formed over years of shared experiences and trust.
The meeting dragged on, Dumbledore moving from one topic to the next. Y/N’s frustration simmered beneath the surface, evident in the way she tapped her fingers against the table or shifted in her seat. Sirius found it hard to focus. His attention kept drifting to her—to the way her hair caught the candlelight, the way her brow furrowed in concentration.
And then there were the little things, the details only he seemed to notice: the way her lips pressed together when she was deep in thought, the soft sigh she let out when something annoyed her.
By the time the meeting adjourned, Y/N had reached her limit. She stood abruptly, muttering something about needing fresh air.
Sirius watched her go, his eyes lingering on the way her hair swayed as she walked. He wondered if she realized how captivating she was, if she had any idea how much space she occupied in his thoughts.
“You’re not very subtle, you know,” Remus said, breaking the silence.
Sirius turned to him, frowning. “What are you on about?”
Remus smirked, his tone dry. “You’ve been staring at her all night.”
“I wasn’t staring,” Sirius said quickly, too quickly.
“Right,” Remus said, gathering his things. “Just try not to make it so obvious next time.”
Sirius let out a huff of irritation, running a hand through his hair.
But it was hard to look away.
As the room emptied, Sirius stayed behind, slumping back in his chair. The candlelight flickered, casting shadows across the walls. He closed his eyes, letting out a low sigh.
The truth was, he couldn’t stop thinking about her. He’d tried—Merlin, he’d tried—but she was always there, lingering in the back of his mind. Her voice, her smile, the way she carried herself with so much confidence and determination.
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The cold outside felt like it seeped into her bones as soon as she stepped through the door, the chill from the air making Y/N pull her coat tighter around her. She had rushed out earlier, frustrated with the meeting and the constant back-and-forth of words that never seemed to result in any real action. But now, standing alone in the cold yard of Grimmauld Place, she realized she’d left her coat and bag behind in the rush.
With a resigned sigh, she turned back toward the house, the heavy wooden door creaking slightly as she entered. The warmth of the house immediately wrapped around her, but it wasn’t enough to shake the unease still lingering in her chest. She moved quickly through the entryway, making her way back to the sitting room where she had left her belongings.
The house was eerily quiet now. The voices, the laughter, the bustling of the meeting—it had all vanished. The flickering candlelight in the sitting room seemed to magnify the silence, making everything feel still.
She paused when she saw him.
Sirius was sitting at the table, the same spot where the Order meeting had been held just a short while ago. His elbows rested on the edge of the table, his hands folded loosely in front of him, and his gaze was distant. He hadn’t noticed her entrance yet, his focus still on some faraway thought.
Y/N’s steps slowed as she studied him for a moment, unsure of what to make of the stillness that seemed to surround him. He didn’t appear to have noticed her yet, his focus still on something she couldn’t see.
She cleared her throat softly, breaking the quiet.
Sirius looked up at the sound, his gray eyes meeting hers immediately, the hint of a smile pulling at his lips. For a moment, they just stared at each other, the weight of the past few hours hanging between them.
“Forgot my coat,” Y/N said, her voice a little more subdued than usual as she gestured toward the chair where she had left her things.
Sirius nodded, sitting up straighter in his seat. “You left in a bit of a hurry,” he said, a wry smile on his face. “Cold out there.”
Y/N glanced down at her coat, then at him. “I guess I didn’t think about the cold.”
“Would’ve figured you for someone who’d remember that,” he teased, but there was something softer in his voice now.
Y/N stepped forward, picking up her coat from the chair. As her fingers brushed against the fabric, she hesitated. The frustration she had felt during the meeting had yet to leave her. The weight of Dumbledore’s decisions, the helplessness of their situation, had settled deep within her.
Sirius observed her, his gaze softening. The silence between them was now something different, something more reflective. "You alright?" he asked quietly, his voice devoid of teasing now, the softness lingering in his words.
“I’ll be fine,” she said lightly, tugging her coat tighter around her shoulders. “I just... I need to clear my head.”
Sirius raised an eyebrow, the faintest hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “You look like you could use a drink. How about you stay for a bit?”
Y/N hesitated. She knew what he was offering: a brief escape, a chance to let their shoulders down after the weight of the meeting. It was a kindness, one she rarely turned down when offered, but she wasn’t sure she was in the mood for conversation—at least, not the kind he seemed to want.
She smoothed a hand over her coat, then met his gaze. "I don’t want to be a bother.”
A small chuckle escaped him, though it didn’t reach his eyes the way it usually did. He was trying, she could see that, but there was a quiet undercurrent in his voice now, one that didn’t have the usual playfulness. It was something else—something deeper.
“You’re not a bother. You never are.” He paused, watching her closely, as though he were searching for something behind her guarded expression. “Come on. Let’s just... have a drink. Relax a little. Please.”
Y/N could feel the hesitation in her chest, that resistance she’d built around herself, but she also knew she didn’t want to go back to her flat alone—not after tonight. Not when she could still feel the sharp sting of everything they had just discussed lingering in her mind. Maybe, just maybe, a drink with Sirius would help take the edge off.
She sighed, stepping away from the doorframe. “Alright. Just one drink.”
Sirius’s smile, though small, was genuine. It reached his eyes this time, and for a brief moment, Y/N caught a glimpse of something in his expression—a flicker of hope or perhaps relief. But then he masked it again, as he always did, with that ever-present, charismatic ease.
“Excellent,” he said, gesturing toward the kitchen. “I’ll let you pick the poison. But if you say Firewhisky, I’m warning you, I’ll be pouring myself a double.”
Y/N shook her head as she followed him through the hall. “I’m not in the mood for something that strong,” she replied, though she couldn’t hide the slight smile that tugged at her lips.
He led the way into the kitchen. It was a small space, cozy even in its slightly outdated decor. Y/N had always thought there was something oddly comforting about the kitchen in Grimmauld Place—it was a place that felt lived in, not cold and sterile like the rest of the house.
He moved to the cupboard and pulled out a bottle of something dark, his fingers brushing over it in a way that suggested familiarity. “How about this?” he asked, turning to her with a raised eyebrow. “A little bit of something to take the edge off without turning us into complete wrecks.”
Y/N smiled at the offer. “I’ll try it. But I’m holding you to your word—just one drink.”
“Of course,” he replied smoothly, though there was an edge to his voice now, a quiet sincerity. “I’m not trying to get you drunk, Y/N. I just thought... after everything today, maybe a bit of peace wouldn’t hurt.”
He poured them both a generous measure of the amber liquid, handing her the glass with a soft smile. She accepted it, their fingers brushing ever so slightly as she took it, and she was suddenly very aware of how close they were. Sirius’s presence always had this magnetic pull on her. Even now, as he leaned back against the counter, watching her with those dark eyes of his, she felt something shift in the air around them.
“So, what did you think of the meeting?” he asked, his voice low and steady, but she could hear the underlying edge of exhaustion in his words. He was tired. They all were. But Sirius... Sirius had always worn his exhaustion differently. He carried it with a certain grace, a way of making it look effortless when it was anything but.
Y/N shrugged, taking a small sip of her drink. “It’s the same as always. We talk strategy, we pretend like we know what we’re doing, and we leave with the same uncertainty as when we came in.”
“Yeah,” Sirius muttered, his eyes darkening as he swirled his drink. “The war doesn’t exactly give us much to work with, does it?”
Y/N looked at him, her gaze lingering on his face. There was something about the way he said it, like he had seen the world through darker lenses than most. She couldn’t deny that part of her was fascinated by that—by the depth of everything he had been through. And yet, there was always a part of him that seemed so light, so full of life. It was that contrast that both intrigued and unsettled her.
“I think we’re all just waiting for the next bombshell to drop,” she said softly, her eyes not meeting his. “And in the meantime, we try to keep it together.”
Sirius watched her closely, his eyes fixed on the movement of her lips as she slowly sipped her drink. His gaze lingered, and for a moment, he forgot about everything—about the weight of the meeting, about the ever-present tension of the war. It was just her, sitting across from him, and the soft glow of the kitchen lights casting shadows across her face. His heart seemed to skip a beat as he noticed the way the soft candlelight made her eyes shine, the way the curve of her lips looked even more inviting with every sip.
Y/N felt his gaze before she saw it. The weight of his attention pressed on her, as though his eyes were tracing every line of her face, every small movement. It made her heart beat a little faster, a warmth spreading through her chest despite the cool air around them. She looked up over the rim of her glass, meeting his gaze. His dark eyes were soft, but there was a flicker of something deeper, something more intense. Something she hadn’t noticed before—or maybe she had, but had ignored.
“What is it, Sirius?” she asked, her voice teasing but with a subtle undercurrent of curiosity. “Do I have something on my face?”
Sirius blinked, caught off guard for a moment. He cleared his throat and shook his head, trying to shake off the lingering thoughts. But the truth slipped out before he could stop it.
“No,” he said softly, “just thinking... you’re beautiful.”
Y/N’s eyebrows lifted in surprise, a small laugh escaping her lips. She set the glass down on the counter and crossed her arms, her gaze locking onto his. “Really?” she said with a playful smile. “You’re not so bad yourself, you know.”
Sirius chuckled, though there was a touch of nervousness beneath the laugh. The air between them seemed to shift, the tension thickening, and for a brief moment, he forgot all about the age gap that had kept him at bay for so long. The difference in their years had been a wall in his mind, one he had built to keep things at arm's length. But now, standing here with her, so close, so real, it felt like that wall was crumbling away piece by piece.
He leaned forward slightly, his voice low and rough. “You know, I’ve been thinking about something for a while, and I’m not sure if I should say it.” His heart was hammering in his chest, the words threatening to spill out before he could stop them. “But... would you want to kiss me?”
Y/N’s breath caught in her throat at the question. It was so direct, so unguarded. And it was like the entire world seemed to stop for a heartbeat. She blinked, the shock of it mixing with something else—something warmer, something she hadn’t been expecting. She felt her pulse quicken, her eyes flicking to his lips before she caught herself.
For a moment, she said nothing. Then, slowly, her lips curved into a teasing smile, the spark of mischief flickering in her eyes. “Why wouldn’t I?”
Sirius didn’t need any more encouragement. The restraint he had held onto for so long—the years of wondering, of doubting—slipped away in that moment. He moved closer, his hands coming up to gently cup her face, and then, without another word, he leaned in, his lips brushing against hers.
The kiss was soft at first, but it wasn’t long before the gentle pressure of his lips grew more urgent, more insistent, as though the need to be close to her had been building for far too long. Y/N responded in kind, her hands finding their way to his chest, fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt as she deepened the kiss.
Sirius let out a soft groan as he felt her pull him closer, her body pressed against his. The intensity of the kiss surged, and he could taste the warmth of the alcohol on her lips, the tang of it mixing with the sweetness of her kiss. His hands roamed to her back, pulling her flush against him, his breath quickening as he kissed her deeper, harder, the world spinning around them.
“Y/N...” he muttered against her lips, his voice thick with desire. “You’re... heavenly.”
Y/N’s heart was racing now, her hands tracing the lines of his chest, feeling the muscles beneath his shirt, the heat radiating from his skin. She had never imagined this—never imagined that the distance between them could close so quickly, so completely. But now, with him so close, with his lips on hers, she couldn’t imagine wanting anything else.
She pulled back just enough to catch her breath, her lips tingling from the intensity of the kiss. Her eyes were heavy-lidded, her gaze locked on his. “Sirius...” she breathed, her voice barely a whisper, but thick with emotion. “Kiss me again.”
Sirius didn’t need any more prompting. He kissed her again, this time with a desperation that was new—raw and hungry. His hands slid down to her waist, pulling her closer as he kissed her with a depth that left them both breathless. The kiss was no longer soft. It was passionate, consuming, as though every doubt, every fear, was being kissed away in that one moment.
He muttered a few curses, his lips trailing down to her neck, tasting the soft skin there. “God, Y/N... you don’t know what you do to me.” His voice was rough, strained, as he nipped gently at her skin, sending shivers down her spine.
Y/N gasped, her fingers threading through his hair as she tilted her head back to give him better access. His lips were on her neck, hot and insistent, his kisses leaving a trail of fire in their wake. She couldn’t stop herself. She didn’t want to. Every part of her was alive with the sensation of him, the taste of him, the warmth of his body against hers.
The kiss deepened once more, and without thinking, Sirius picked her up, his arms wrapping around her waist as he pressed her back against the wall. The sudden movement surprised her, but it only made the moment more intense, more real. She gasped, her legs wrapping around his waist instinctively, and he groaned at the closeness, at the feeling of her body against his.
His lips moved down her neck, kissing her in slow, deliberate strokes, his breath hot against her skin as he whispered her name. “Y/N...” he murmured again, as though trying to make sure she was still with him, still there. “You’re... perfect.”
Her heart raced as he kissed her neck, his lips trailing over the sensitive skin there. She couldn’t think. Couldn’t breathe. She only knew that she wanted more.
When their kiss finally broke, both of them panting for air, they slid to the floor. Sirius’s head rested against her shoulder.
Slowly he sat up, his hands still holding her waist. He looked at her, his dark eyes filled with a mixture of longing and something else—something deeper.
“I was... worried,” he confessed, his voice low, vulnerable in a way she had never heard before. “Worried about the age difference. About whether you’d... feel the same. It’s always been in the back of my mind.”
Y/N’s heart softened at his words, and she placed a hand gently on his cheek, brushing her thumb over the stubble there. “Sirius, I don’t care about that,” she said softly. “I’ve never even thought of it.”
He leaned in to kiss her again, but this time, it was only a soft graze, a reminder of how easily he could lose himself in her.
“You’re incredible,” he murmured, his voice rough with the emotions he could never fully hide. “So damn beautiful, so bloody lovely...” He chuckled softly, a spark of mischief lighting in his eyes. “It’s maddening, really.”
Y/N’s chest fluttered at his words, at the vulnerability that she could hear in his voice. She leaned in, gently kissing the corner of his mouth, her lips lingering for a moment longer than expected. “I’m really glad you convinced me to stay for a drink,” she whispered, her fingers gently tracing the line of his jaw.
Sirius’s breath caught at her words, and for a moment, he looked as though he might say something else, but instead, he moved, his hand rested on her leg, a soft touch that conveyed so much more than words could. Then, slowly, he shifted again, lying down with his head in her lap, the two of them surrounded by the quiet of the kitchen.
He gazed up at her, his eyes filled with a kind of wonder, a touch of awe. “You’re so perfect, Y/N,” he whispered, his voice low and warm. “I can’t believe I’m here with you. I’ve wanted this. Wanted you. For so long.”
Y/N blushed, a soft smile curling on her lips. She gently ran her fingers through his hair, enjoying the warmth of the moment.
Sirius let out a breath, as though he’d been holding it for far too long. His lips turned upward in a small, tender smile. And for a long moment, they stayed like that—him lying on her lap, her fingers in his hair, the weight of everything unspoken and everything new hanging between them, untold but not needed.
sirius black x drunk!reader who ends up drunk confessing to him
The night was buzzing with laughter, the Gryffindor common room alive with the afterglow of yet another Marauders' prank successfully pulled. You leaned heavily on the arm of the couch, a giggle escaping your lips as you watched Sirius Black tell the most outrageous story—his arms flailing dramatically as James, Peter, and Remus sat around, half-listening, half-exchanging looks.
And you? You were tipsy. More than tipsy. You were well on your way to being drunk.
You glanced over at Sirius, your heart squeezing in your chest. You and Sirius were stuck in the most confusing situationship known to wizardkind. He’d flirt with you relentlessly, you'd flirt back, but neither of you had ever crossed that unspoken line. It was like some sort of dangerous dance, where both of you were afraid of the fall but addicted to the thrill.
But tonight… tonight felt different.
"Sirius!" James slurred slightly, giving his friend a nudge with his elbow. "I think our dear Y/N is starin' at ya."
Sirius grinned, but there was something softer in his eyes when they met yours. His voice was full of mischief when he called out, “Oi, Y/N, having a good time, love?”
You were feeling bold, fueled by the firewhiskey swirling in your system. You pushed yourself up from the couch, a lopsided smile plastered on your face as you staggered toward him, swaying slightly but giggling all the same. Remus gave you a knowing look, shaking his head fondly, while Peter just chuckled.
“You’re soooo pretty,” you drawled, poking Sirius’s chest with your finger. He caught your hand, steadying you, and smirked.
“And you’re drunk,” he teased, his fingers still wrapped around yours, and you swore you saw his eyes soften. His hand was warm, and it made your heart race.
“M'not that drunk,” you mumbled, leaning closer, your face inches from his. “Maybe a little. But that doesn’t make it any less true, Black. You. Are. Gorgeous.”
Sirius’s smirk faltered for a second, something flickering behind his eyes, something deeper than the usual playfulness. “You don’t know what you’re saying.”
You frowned, tugging your hand free from his grasp and crossing your arms defiantly. “I know exactly what I’m saying. I’m saying you’re bloody pretty and I like you,” you declared, with a dramatic hand gesture that almost made you lose your balance. Sirius caught you, his arms steady around your waist now, and for a moment, you just stood there, the room spinning around you but Sirius… Sirius was your anchor.
“Y/N…” he started, his voice quieter now, his usual bravado slipping. The tension between you two had always been there, simmering just under the surface, and it felt like it was about to boil over.
“I like you too much,” you confessed in a rush, your cheeks heating as you realized what you’d just said. “But I don’t know… it’s just… we never… you know?” You huffed, frustrated with the jumble of your words, blinking up at him with wide, uncertain eyes.
His thumb brushed against your cheek, and your breath hitched. “You’re drunk,” he repeated softly, but this time, it wasn’t a tease. It was almost like he was trying to protect himself.
“Maybe. But that doesn’t mean I don’t mean it.”
Sirius looked at you, really looked at you, like he was trying to figure something out, trying to decide if you were serious—pun intended. “You don’t want this just because you’re a bit tipsy, Y/N. You can’t just…”
“Oh, for Merlin’s sake, mate,” James groaned from the couch, interrupting the moment as he threw a pillow at Sirius. “Just kiss her already! We’re tired of watching this bloody show.”
Peter snorted, trying to hide his grin behind his hands, while Remus just shook his head, amused as ever. “You two are impossible,” he murmured under his breath.
Sirius glared at James, but when his eyes returned to you, the firelight flickering across his face, you could see the vulnerability there. You reached up, your hand resting gently against his chest, right over his heart.
“I mean it,” you whispered. “I’m not just saying it because I’ve had a bit too much to drink. I like you, Sirius. And I’m tired of pretending like I don’t.”
Sirius swallowed hard, his usual confidence slipping, replaced by something far more genuine. He leaned in slowly, like he was giving you time to change your mind, his lips brushing softly against yours.
The kiss was tender at first, like he was still unsure, but when you kissed him back, your hands sliding up to his neck, he deepened it, pulling you closer. The world around you faded, the cheers from your friends distant as you lost yourself in him, the scent of his leather jacket and the warmth of his arms wrapping around you completely.
When you finally pulled away, breathless and dazed, you both stared at each other, faces flushed, hearts racing.
“Finally,” James muttered from behind you.
Peter let out a low whistle, clapping slowly. “It only took them what, two years?”
“Shut up, Wormtail,” Sirius shot back, though his voice was playful now.
Remus raised his glass toward you both. “To no more mixed signals.”
You rolled your eyes but smiled, your head still spinning but this time not from the alcohol—just from him.
Sirius turned back to you, his forehead resting against yours. “I should’ve done that ages ago.”
“Yeah, you should’ve,” you teased softly, grinning.
His eyes were full of affection now, no more teasing, no more hesitation. “You’re still drunk, love.”
“And you’re still pretty,” you countered, smirking.
Sirius chuckled, kissing your forehead this time. “Merlin help me, I’m in love with you.”
Your heart swelled, and despite the alcohol making your mind foggy, that confession rang clear.
“Good. Because I’m in love with you too.”
Sirius’s grin was blinding, and when he kissed you again, it felt like everything you’d been waiting for had finally fallen into place.
Hey this is Mat Barzal. Yours is just one of many blogs I’m warning. Because of the blog hockeygossip101 I am writing to blogs asking not to use my image or my name anymore or there will be legal action taken. The blog I mentioned is being charged with slander. My lawyers are aware of all these blogs. Keep my name and Mayas name out of your mouths. Thanks. I’m gonna go out on a limb and guess you are all obese. I have a hot gf now so leave me alone.
it’s actually been months since I published anything here or even written a bit and i’m not sure if i’ll be able to write again. so sorry if you requested something, i might get back to it but not rn
i got myself a boyfriend and it feels just weird to keep writing the stuff i usually do. i know it’s not cheating but you know what i’m saying right ???
it’s probably stupid and i might be bored sometimes and try writing imagines again but i’ll take some time
with this i’m saying some kind of goodbye, i’ll be still checking up on you guys so feel free to dm me and we can chat! ❤️
