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edna-skiffens · 3 months ago

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lasting impressions

( a night to remember - pt1)

sirius black x afab!reader ⊹ 6.5k

cw ⟢ biker!sirius RARARAR, nervous!reader, alcohol, swearing, suggestive, strangers to ????, tension, teasing

it seemed by the time the morning after the party rolled around, you'd forgotten most of what you'd done, not to worry, sirius was your walking reminder.

a/n i litch skipped class to write this today LOL, i hope yall like it, man bun sirius is just hhhhh not proofread x

The rest of that night was a complete and utter blur. Marlene was meant to take you home but ‘coincidentally’, she ended staying at Dorcas’ to clean up after the party.

That left you with James.

Poor James, had to keep his eyes on you before you ravaged his best mate.

All the swimming you’d done, thankfully tuckered you out for a while—becoming less like Trouble the tasmanian devil and more of a sweet gooey puddle on the sofa.

Proclaiming your love to everyone and everyone.

You had tried to put your clothes back on—but it seemed that no one wanted to let you get dress, and it was getting rather cold.

Sirius had been watching as you padded wobbly, back to the pile by the pool, humming off-beat to the music that still played int the living room—seeping through the crack in the door. Hopping around with one foot partially through your wet bottoms, Sirius decided it was time for him to chime in.

“Busy?” an amused smirk playing on his face.

Huffing in frustration, still trying to force your foot through the wet tangled pant leg, you didn’t answer—you also didn’t hear the sound of his footsteps coming towards you.

Using all your sense at one seemed to be a difficult task at the time.

If you’d had the capacity to think of shaking the clothes out, you probably would have already had them on. Sirius stood over your hunched figure waiting for you to notice him, but you lost your balance—sending yourself right into him.

A soft “oh!”, leaving your lips when you made contact, of course, Sirius was ready to catch you—after having watched you sway back and forths for a while, he figured it would happen sooner or later.

Your chin was still resting chest when you looked up at him, a lazy grin slowly spreading across your face, accompanied with a, “Hello!”

He couldn’t stop himself from matching your smile, entertained by the way you melted against him, letting his hands settle at your waist to steady you, “Fancy seeing you here,” his voice light and teasing.

Nose scrunching slightly, you hummed, “Mmm, you’re so warm,” seemingly deciding then and there to stay pressed against him.

“Mind telling why you’re trying to put your wet clothes back on, sweetheart?”

“S’cold,” words still slurring, and now muffled against his skin. He chuckled, shaking his head, taking the towel that was quite literally right next you clothes—and drapping it over your shoulders.

Sirius began dramatically, rubbing his hands up and down your arms—using all of his might to warm you; “James is going to hex me if I let you catch hypothermia on his watch.”

It only made you break out into loud giggles, wriggling under the towel like your situation was the funniest thing you’d ever seen. Clutching your stomach, laughter ringing through the garden. As he stopped, he leaned in to your ears—whispering in a soft, low tone—”Better?”

It made your ears burn, and stutter several incomplete words, before eventually giving up speaking, feigning non-chalance with a roll of your eyes. And Sirius couldn’t stop the bark of laughter from leaving him—

"Merlin, you’re so cute," Sirius mused, watching as your face scrunched up, trying and failing to pretend his words hadn’t made your heart stutter.

You let out an exaggerated sigh, determined to move on. “I’m putting my trousers back on.”

Tilting his head at you, amusement dancing in his eyes, “Are you, now?”

Nodding firmly, you reached down to grab them, still heavy with water—only for Sirius to pluck them up first, holding them just out of reach.

"Oi!" You swayed slightly, glaring up at him. "Gimme."

"Mmm... no," he hummed, examining the soaked fabric like he was contemplating setting them on fire. "See, I just spent all this time warming you up, and now you want to go and undo all my hard work? Tsk, tsk."

"But I’m cold," you whined. "Clothes make you warmer, Sirius, it’s science."

"Not when they’re wet,” he countered, lifting an eyebrow. “Putting these on is just going to make you colder.”

"But I’m already wet," you argued, throwing your arms out as if that proved a point. "I’m wet, the clothes are wet—so it cancels out."

Sirius stared at you. "That’s...that’s not how that works.”

"It is," you insisted, crossing your arms. "Like...double negatives. Wet plus wet equals dry."

Sirius blinked. "That was the single worst attempt at logic I have ever heard.”

"You’re the worst attempt at logic I’ve ever heard," you shot back, wobbling on your feet.

"That didn’t even make sense," he snorted, running a hand down his face. "Merlin, you’re impossible."

"Gimme my trousers."

"No."

"Gimme."

"Nope."

Before you could protest further, Sirius simply sighed, tossed the offending trousers aside, and scooped you up like you weighed nothing.

"Sirius!" you gasped, clinging to his shoulders on instinct. "Put me down, fiend!"

"No can do, sweetheart," he grinned, carrying you inside with ease. "You’ve lost trouser privileges."

"That’s not a thing," you grumbled, voice muffled against his shoulder.

"It is now."

Sirius stepped into the living room, plopping you both down onto the couch in one smooth motion. You huffed, still tangled up against him, but the warmth of the house—and him—was already seeping into your chilled skin. You could feel his chuckle rumbling against you as he reached for the nearest blanket, draping it over you both with an air of finality.

"See?" he murmured, voice smug. "Much better."

You grumbled something unintelligible against his shoulder, but you didn’t move—not even an inch. Partly because you were comfortable and partly because your limbs still felt like jelly.

Sirius huffed out a quiet laugh, adjusting the blanket so it covered more of you.

Dorcas rolled her eyes at the wet trail you’d left upon entry, grumbling about how she’d just mopped, before tossing a pair of tracksuit bottoms and a jumper in yours and Siruis’ general direction.

"I love Dorcas," you announced from the couch, voice muffled but enthusiastic. She came towards the sofa as you confessed, a glass of water in hand, passing it to you with a soften sigh—small smile on her face.

"I love everyone!" It came out shockingly louder than your last statement; “Everything is so good,”

Sirius chuckled, shifting slightly so he could look down at you. “Yeah?”

"Mhm," you hummed, snuggling impossibly closer. "Sirius, you’re my favorite."

"Ooooh, scandalous," Marlene called from the other room. "James, how does it feel to be replaced?"

"I am not replaced!" James shot back indignantly. “And I’ve been stuck with cleaning up this mess, while Sirius is lazing on the sofa.” The last sentences was mumbled and huffed under his breath.

Dorcas snorted, flicking her wand to banish a suspicious-looking stain from the carpet. “James, he quite literally had to drag her inside.”

Marlene hummed in agreement. “Yeah, poor bloke probably had to wrestle her just to get her to drop the wet clothes.”

The light chatter continued among them as they cleaned, but eventually, all that could be heard from the couch was your soft, content sigh as Sirius tightened the blanket around you both.

Sirius glanced down at you, only to realize your breathing had evened out, your face smushed sleepily against his shirt.

"Merlin’s beard," he muttered, shaking his head fondly. "You really are trouble."

It took another thirty minutes before the house was back to its original state, James let out an exasperated sigh, plopping onto the single chair by Sirius—eyes scanning over your sleeping figure.

Sirius had his phone in one hand, the other on your thigh—your shoulders rising and falling slowly with heach breath, head rested on his shoulder—very very comfortable.

James squinted his eyes at the pair of you.

"Alright, let’s get moving," James announced, stretching his arms over his head. "I want to be in bed before the sun comes up for once."

Sirius sighed dramatically but sat up, shifting you carefully in his hold as he did. You stirred only slightly, mumbling something incoherent before settling again.

"Right then," Sirius said, looking over at Marlene expectantly. "Time to take your gremlin home."

Marlene raised a brow. "My gremlin? No, no, you two are taking her home."

"What? No," James argued, pointing an accusing finger at her. "You were supposed to take her home!"

Marlene gave him an unimpressed look. "And how, exactly, am I supposed to do that? There’s one of me, and she’s basically liquid right now."

"S’not true," you mumbled sleepily, shifting against Sirius' chest. "I’m solid. Mostly."

"See?" Sirius smirked. "Mostly solid. You’ll manage."

Marlene rolled her eyes. "James, you have a car. Sirius, you have a motorbike. There are two of you and one of me. Basic math says this is not my problem."

James groaned, rubbing his face before turning to Sirius. "Rock, paper, scissors for it?"

"Not a chance, mate," Sirius said, already standing with you in his arms. "You drive. I’ll follow."

James huffed but didn't argue further, muttering about how Sirius always managed to get out of the worst parts of every situation.

The drive back to their flat was mostly quiet, save for the occasional hum of a song from Sirius as he trailed behind on his bike. You remained blissfully unaware, curled up in the passenger seat of James’ car, only half-waking when he parked and Sirius pulled open the door.

"Up we go, trouble," Sirius murmured, lifting you effortlessly before you could try and stumble your way inside.

James locked the car, sighing as he followed them up the stairs. But when he opened the door to their flat, he realized something.

"Wait," he frowned. "Where is she supposed to sleep?"

Sirius, still carrying you, blinked at him. "Uh. My bed?"

"Oi," James pointed a warning finger at him. "That’s my friend, so no funny business."

Sirius rolled his eyes, adjusting you in his arms. "Please. I’m not the one you need to worry about."

James scoffed, but let it go, too tired to argue further. "Fine. Just—behave yourself, alright?"

"Always do," Sirius grinned before disappearing into his room.

The moment he set you down, you sighed, rolling onto your side as you curled into the warmth of his duvet. Sirius exhaled, shaking his head with a small smirk before tugging the blankets up over you properly. His bed had always been big—more space than he usually needed—but right now, he didn’t mind it.

For a moment, he just watched you, taking in the peaceful expression on your face. The soft rise and fall of your chest. The way your hand curled slightly into the pillow.

With careful fingers, he brushed a stray strand of hair from your face, his touch barely there.

"Pretty," he murmured fondly.

And with that, he switched off the light and settled in beside you—close, but not too close. Just enough to make sure you were warm.

When the morning rolled around, the light in the room making your eyes burn even while closed, head pounding and throbbing—mouth abnormally dry. A groan left your lips as you shifted slightly, body stiff from sleep, but as you stretched out, something felt… wrong.

For one, the bed was too big. And for another—

Thud.

You hit the floor with a graceless, painful sort of smack, tangled in the sheets you’d apparently dragged with you.

"Bloody hell," you muttered, squeezing your eyes shut as you lay there for a moment, reeling from the sudden impact. That definitely didn’t help your headache.

Panic set in almost immediately.

You blinked, finally taking in your surroundings, mind scrambling to piece together where the hell you were. The room was unfamiliar—dark bedding, posters plastered lazily on the walls, the faintest lingering scent of cologne and cigarette smoke.

Your stomach dropped.

This—this wasn’t your room. And it definitely wasn’t Marlene’s or Dorcas’.

You scrambled to your feet, legs wobbling slightly beneath you, hands clammy as you pressed them to your temples. The pulsing ache behind your eyes did not make thinking any easier. Your heart hammered as you backed up toward the door, mind racing through every terrible, worst-case scenario imaginable. Your body moved on autopilot—twisting the handle, slipping out into the corridor with the sheer desperation of needing to get out of here.

And then—

"Oh, look who’s up," James’ voice.

Your head snapped up, vision still slightly blurred, but sure enough—James Potter was standing in the open kitchen, casually stirring a bowl of cereal. And next to him, leaning against the counter, was Sirius Black, sipping a cup of tea with all the ease in the world.

Your breath caught. James’ flat.

Some of the panic loosened its grip, but the mortification settled in just as quickly.

"She lives," Sirius smirked over the rim of his cup.

You opened your mouth—closed it—then tried again. "I—I don’t—" You winced at the sound of your own voice, throat dry and hoarse. "What—"

James raised a brow. "Need some water before you start asking questions?"

You swallowed thickly. "Maybe."

Sirius nudged a glass across the counter without a word. You took it hesitantly, stepping forward just enough to grab it, before downing the whole thing in a few gulps.

It helped. Slightly.

"Alright," you breathed out, trying to regain some sense of composure. "What…happened?"

Sirius and James exchanged looks, and you did not like whatever silent conversation they just had.

James was the first to break. "You happened," he snorted, shaking his head. "You were sloshed, love."

Your brows knit together. You remembered getting to the party. Swimming. Bits and pieces of the night flickered through your mind, but it was all… hazy.

"You don't remember?" Sirius tilted his head, watching you closely as you chewed at your bottom lip, avoiding eye contact with him.

"I—" You hesitated. "Some of it? I remember the party. And—I think I was trying to… put my clothes back on?" You frowned. "But Marlene had already given me some?"

Sirius grinned, all too happy to remind you. "Ah, yes. You were determined to put your wet clothes back on, actually. Told me that ‘wet plus wet cancels out,’ or something equally brilliant."

You groaned, pressing your fingers to your temples. "Merlin’s sake. I told Marlene this would happen.”

"You also declared your undying love for everyone about five times," James added, chewing lazily. "But apparently, Sirius was your favorite."

Your head shot up at that, eyes wide. "I what?!"

Sirius hummed, parroting Marlene’s words from last night, looking far too smug. "Scandalous, I know."

You stared at them both in abject horror, any lingering dizziness temporarily forgotten as you fought the urge to crawl out of your own skin. This is exactly what you were worried about, being a public nuisance and making an absolute idiot of yourself.

You just groaned again, leaning against the counter, face heating—hoping some unknown force would strike you down, anything to avoid the mortifying feeling in the pit of your stomach.

James snickered before shrugging. "Could’ve been worse. At least you didn’t puke."

Small mercies.

Sirius walked over to where you stood, handing over a packet of ibuprofen, you still couldn’t meet his gaze. The intensity of his stare, paired with the almost cocky smirk that played on his face made you shrink into yourself—his fingertips lingering on your hand for just a second longer than they should have. Before he walked back over to lean against the counter.

James watched the entire interaction rather unimpressed, but he chose not to say anything about it, instead he pulled out the seat next to him—motioning for you to sit down. Your brows were still knit high up on you forehead, endlessly wracking your brain, willing it to focus on the events of last night. Unconsciously picking at the skin around you fingers, eyes glaring at a spot on the table, a deep frown settling on your lips.

It took a few calls, but eventually James got your attention, offering you some toast.

But the idea of eating anything made your stomach lurch slightly, you shook your head immediately, muttering, “I think i’ll pass, thank you though,”

The guilt was killing you, not only did you make a fool of yourself, you didn’t remember and you didn’t make it home. Standing up from your place in the table, asking James if you could borrow something to change into after your shower. He spluttered slightly, mouth still full—”Course,”

The hot shower did little to calm your mind, only washing the slight smell of chlorine off your skin, opting for the smallest clothes James had, they still were very ill-fitting, hanging off of your frame. Your hair dripped onto the towel you’d hung over your shoulders, taking your spare toothbrush out James’ cabinet, you began brushing.

Brain mindlessly trailing away, memories of your antics flashing vividly behind your eyes, more specifically that moment in the pool, like you’d been transported back to that very second, your heart raced and thumped in your ears—cheeks heating at the thought of the kiss.

Groaning as you shut off the running tap, fingertips brushing over your lips. Exhaling through your nose, you shook your head, mumbling to yourself as you left the bathroom.

“What have i done?”

Trailing over to James’ room, he was at his desk, typing on his laptop. You stood by him wordlessly for few a moments, a frown on your face, eyes trained on the floor. The smile on his face dropping at the sight of yours, “What’s the matter, love?” turing his whole body towards you.

“I’m sorry.”

Your voice was meek as you continued, “I’m sorry you had to take care of me, I hope I didn’t ruin your night,” You looked like you were about to cry, he couldn’t help the huffed chuckle that passed his lips as he hugged you,

“Y/N, you didn’t ruin the night for anyone, if anything, you made it more fun.”

Head still in his chest, he leant away slightly, catch a glimpse of your face, barking out a laugh at your wet eyes, “I promise, doll. And I didn’t mind taking care of you, I’m sure Sirius didn’t either.”

Still not raising your head, you flooped dramatically onto James’ bed, face first—the teasing tone of his voice playing in your head over and over. Another wave of embarrassment washing over you. James was already standing up, still laughing lightly at you, before he took a pillow from the top of his bed—dropping it on your head.

“As much as I’d love to watch you be awkward and embarrassed with Sirius, I need to go to the gym—I’ll drop you home when I get back.”Voice drifting further away as he finished.

He was already out of the door before you could beg him not to leave you with Sirius.

What was more mortifiying was that you knew your brain wouldn’t let you rest until you’d apologised to him, and now that James was gone for however long—you were trapped with the guy you’d drunk kissed with no buffer.

It took you another twenty minutes of internal conflict before you slowly skulked out of James’ room, food calling your name more than anything. You’d prayed Sirius would be back in his room, allowing you more time to work yourself into a mental space confident enough to talk to him like a normal person.

Everything about him just felt so intimidating, so confident, so straight-forward, so handsome.

The kitchen was thankfully empty, giving you space to boil the kettle—maybe a cup of tea would settle you.

Once again lost in thought, you’d failed to notice how the Gods had tricked you into thinking you were safe. Comfortably slotted into the corner in the counter—waiting for the kettle to tick over, when Sirius had walked into the space, resting against the door frame—watching.

You looked so deep in thought—drowning James’ jumper, hair still slightly damp. Sirius wasn’t going to deny it, despite your very comfortable, almost disheveled appearence—he still thought you looked just as gorgeous as the night before.

He interrupted you chain of thought with his voice; “Boil enough for two?”

The way you almost jumped out of your skin at the sound of his voice was rather comical, practically clutching your non-existent pearls. And he didn’t grace you with time to recover, because, he was already so close to you by the time you’d turned around—stalking over to where you stood.

You did try to stutter out an answer, but your heart beating so loudly in your ears was distracting, preventing you from forming one conscious stream of speech. Instead, you gave up and just nodded—turning away from him and the cocky grin on his face.

Staring at the marble counter as if it was the most interesting thing in the world.

Sirius was still closing the distance between you, so much so that you could feel the heat that he radiated on your skin, could smell his freshly washed hair, laced with caramel and dark leather. You wanted to move away, but you were effectively cornered, the only escape would be if you somehow went through him.

You turned to find away to give him more space, but he just leant further in, looking down at you with that same smirk, so painfully aware of how panicked you were at the proximity. Breath audibly hitching as he reached over your head—eyes still locked with your, pulling out another mug from the cupboard and placing it beside him.

And instead of moving away after getting what he needed, like any normal person, he entrapped you by placing his arms on both sides of you body—palms pressing against the counter.

"Something on your mind, sweetheart?"

Sirius’ voice was low, smooth—far too amused for your liking. The way he was looking at you, all hooded eyes and lazy smirk, made it very clear he was enjoying your predicament.

You swallowed, attempting to look unaffected despite the fact that your pulse was hammering at your throat. "No."

He tilted his head slightly, like he didn’t quite believe you. "No?"

Your fingers curled against the counter, desperate for something to ground yourself. The heat of him was overwhelming, every sense, every inhale filled with something distictly Sirius. It was ridiculous how effortlessly he took up space, how he had you feeling cornered without even laying a hand on you.

"Then why," he murmured, dipping just slightly closer, "do you look like a rabbit caught in a trap?"

Your breath hitched. His voice was too smug, too pleased with himself, and it sent something hot curling low in your stomach.

"I don’t," you lied, attempting to shift to the side—only for Sirius to mirror you, blocking your escape with ease.

His lips twitched. "Mmm, I think you do."

He was so close now that you could feel the warmth of his breath against your skin, his hands braced on either side of you, caging you in like he had all the time in the world.

You hated how your voice came out weaker than intended. "Do you make a habit of cornering people in kitchens, or am I just special?"

His smirk deepened. "Oh, you're special."

Your stomach flipped violently at that, and you cursed yourself internally for the reaction.

The kettle clicked off behind you, but neither of you moved.

Sirius’ gaze flickered down, lingering for just a second too long before meeting yours again, dark and unreadable. "Seems you’ve lost the bite you had last night."

Your lips parted—whether to say defend your drunk actions or tell him to piss off, you weren’t sure—but before you could get a word out, he finally pushed off the counter, retreating as smoothly as he’d approached.

The loss of his warmth left you feeling almost unsteady.

He reached for the kettle, pouring the water into both mugs like nothing had happened, like he hadn’t just obliterated your ability to think straight.

"Relax, darling," he murmured, stirring his tea with a spoon. "I'm just having my morning fun."

You exhaled sharply, gripping the counter just to reorient yourself.

Sirius glanced at you from the corner of his eye, smirking again when he saw your still-flustered expression.

Bastard.

With another deep breath, you turned to him, a frown now etching itself into your face—it came out slightly begrudge, more reluctant and dreading than you’d hoped.

“I—uh, wanted to say…I’m sorry, for uh—how I acted last night. I’m not usually that drunk or forward or shameless actually,” Twiddling your thumbs, lips pursing together before you spoke again; “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable in anyway, or um—make you look after the random girl who drank too much…”

The feeling that prickled on you neck, made your throat drier was undeniably, shame. What a way to present yourself. Sirius had stopped stirring his tea, watching you with an expression you couldn’t quite place. His smirk was gone, replaced with something softer, something unreadable. For once, he didn’t look like he was about to tease you.

“You think I was uncomfortable?” he asked after a beat, his voice quieter now.

You swallowed, suddenly unsure. “I mean…I don’t know. You had to drag me inside, jumped into the pool for me, I kissed you—and—Merlin, I don’t even remember half of it, but I know I was being ridiculous and unruly.”

Sirius exhaled a quiet laugh, shaking his head as he leaned against the counter. “You weren’t ridiculous.”

You shot him a dubious look.

“Alright,” he amended with a small grin. “Maybe a little ridiculous. But you were also sweet. And funny. And probably the most affectionate drunk I’ve met.”

Your face burned. “Merlin.” You buried your head in your hands. “Please, please don’t tell me everything I said.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t dare.” He was definitely enjoying this a little too much. “Not when I could use it as leverage later.”

Your groan of embarrassment only made him chuckle.

“But,” Sirius continued, a little more serious now, “you don’t have to apologize, love. You didn’t do anything wrong. We all have our nights.”

You hesitated, glancing up at him. “Really?”

He nodded, taking a slow sip of his tea. “Really. Besides, I’d hardly complain about you curling up in my lap and calling me your favorite.”

You almost choked. “Sirius.”

His grin was downright wicked now. “What? I’m just saying, if you ever feel like being that affectionate sober, I wouldn’t mind.”

You stared at him, unsure whether to be flustered or exasperated.

Sirius only winked. “Tea’s getting cold, sweetheart.” Then, as effortlessly as ever, he turned on his heel and sauntered out of the kitchen, leaving you standing there—stomach in knots, head spinning, and entirely unsure what to do with yourself.

It was getting late, and you’d been sitting in James’ living room for hours since he left, waiting rather impatiently for him now.

God’s this would have been easier if you hadn’t left your bag at Dorcas’.

Sirius eventually showed himself again, shocked to find you sitting there, still no James.

Sirius’ voice broke the silence like a stone skipping across a still lake.

“Are you waiting for James?”

You looked up, slightly startled, your fingers curling tighter around the blanket wrapped around your shoulders. Sirius stood in the doorway, arms crossed, dark eyes scanning you with mild amusement and faint incredulity.

“Yeah,” you admitted, shifting slightly in your seat. “He said he wouldn’t be long.”

Sirius frowned, glancing at the clock on the wall. “That was hours ago.”

You sighed, rubbing a hand over your face. “I know.”

“Then why the hell are you still sitting here?”

You exhaled, dropping your head back against the couch. “I left my bag at Dorcas’,” you admitted begrudgingly. “No bag means no keys. No money. No phone. So, I figured I’d wait.”

Sirius blinked. “And you didn’t say anything?”

You shrugged. “Didn’t want to be a bother.”

A sharp breath left him, his lips parting before he ran a hand through his hair. “So, let me get this straight,” he said slowly. “You’ve been sitting here alone, in a mostly empty house, for hours, when I could’ve just driven you home?”

Your face warmed. “I didn’t—”

Sirius let out a disbelieving laugh. “For fuck’s sake, sweetheart.”

You bristled at the exasperation in his voice. “I said I’m fine. I chose to wait.”

Sirius scoffed, pushing off the doorframe. “You chose to sit in a silent house, curled up like a bloody lost puppy, instead of just asking me?”

You frowned. “I wasn’t curled up like a lost puppy.”

“Are you sure? Because that’s exactly what James’ couch has been hosting all evening.” He gestured toward you. “At this point, you might as well start whining for him to come back.”

You shot him a glare, blanket tightening around your shoulders. “Dramatic.”

Sirius folded his arms, tilting his head. “You really don’t want me to take you home?”

“I—” You hesitated. “It’s not that.”

“Then what?” You bit the inside of your cheek, blinking rapidly, trying to find the words that wouldn’t expose you, but would stop his pestering. His eyes narrowed slightly.

And then something clicked.

“Oh, Merlin,” he breathed, an unrestrained grin creeping onto his lips. “You’re scared of my bike.”

Your stomach twisted. “I am not.”

Sirius barked out a laugh, pure delight lighting up his face. “You totally are.”

You scowled, hating how much he was enjoying this, as if you hadn’t suffered enough embarrassment to last you a life time in the last twenty-four hours. “I just… don’t trust two wheels to keep me alive.”

Sirius smirked. “You think my death machine is going to kill you?”

“I never called it that.”

“You were thinking it.”

You sighed, rubbing your temples, squeezing your eyes shut, tilting your head. Voicing coming out a bit more sharp and desperate than you’d hoped, “Can you just—drop it?”

He hummed, watching you carefully. Then, his smirk softened into something more amused, something more real.

“You trust me though, don’t you?”

The question caught you off guard, and your lips parted slightly, mind scrambling for an answer.

Because you did. You knew you did.

Sirius must’ve seen something in your face, because his voice was quieter when he spoke next.

“I’d take care of you,” he murmured. “I will take care of you.”

Your chest tightened, the swirling in the pit of your stomach only getting worse the longer you pondered on his words, the tone of his voice and how it had you melting in your seat.

And you hated that that was what finally made you relent.

With a deep breath, you stood, setting the blanket aside. “Fine.”

Sirius grinned like he’d just won a bet. “Knew you’d cave.”

You rolled your eyes, following him toward the door.

Outside, the air was crisp, and the night was still—making you much more aware of the sweat building on the palms of your hand, The sleek black motorcycle stood ominously under the streetlamp, its chrome glinting under the dim glow.

You eyed it warily.

Sirius watched you, then held up a helmet. “Here.”

You hesitated, staring at it, before reaching to take it. But instead of handing it over, Sirius stepped closer, gently placing it over your head himself.

Your breath caught.

He was careful, fingertips brushing against your skin as he adjusted the straps, securing it beneath your chin. His touch was fleeting but warm, sending something strange skittering through your ribs.

“There,” he murmured, pulling back slightly, his face still close to yours. “Not so bad, huh?”

You swallowed thickly. “Mm.”

Sirius chuckled, stepping away—but then paused, eyes raking over you. His expression shifted slightly.

“You’re going to freeze,” he muttered.

Before you could even think about protesting, he was already shrugging off his leather jacket, draping it over your shoulders.

“Sirius—”

“Not up for debate.” His voice was firm, but there was a teasing glint in his eyes. “I’d hate for you to lose feeling in your limbs before you can tell me how much you love my driving.”

You sighed but didn’t argue. Instead, you slipped your arms into the sleeves, the scent of him—something rich and warm, like cedar and leather—enveloping you.

Sirius straddled the bike, motioning for you to get on.

“Hold on tight, sweetheart.”

You hesitated for only a second before gripping onto him, arms wrapping firmly around his waist, fingers locking in front, resting your head on his back—taking in a deep breath, trying to brace yourself. Playing his words of reassurance over and over again in your head, he’s going to take care of you, you’ll be fine.

He softly patted your thigh, a final comfort, before—the bike roared to life, and you barely had time to take another breath before Sirius took off, the rush of wind stealing the breath from your lungs.

A shrill scream leaving you mouth before you could even stop it, and he felt your grip on him become impossibly tighter��holding on for dear life. Sirius laughed, his voice mingling with the night air whipping past you.

It took a while before your pulse slowed, for the rise and fall of your chest to become less rapid, less frantic and settle into pace with Sirius’. And just as you were becoming accustom to feeling of the ride, you realized something.

The streets were unfamiliar.

Your brows furrowed. “Sirius.”

“Hm?”

“This isn’t my house.”

“I know.”

You shot him a look, but he was already parking in front of a small diner, flicking the kickstand down before hopping off. “Figured you haven’t eaten all day.”

Your stomach grumbled in response.

Sirius smirked. “Thought so.”

Inside, the diner was warm, golden light casting soft shadows on the walls. You sat across from Sirius, eating in quiet companionship, for a while, the occasional teasing remark breaking the silence—and once he’d started talking, he really didn’t stop, endless questions streaming out, asking how you met James and other random acquisitions.

It was easy. Comfortable.

And you didn’t quite know what to do with that.

Afterward, Sirius drove you home, putting your helmet on your you once again, this time his eyes scanning—drinking in your face for a moment too long. Before setting off again, he pulled your arm to wrap around him tighter—squashing any space between you.

At your doorstep, you hesitated, shifting slightly on your feet—God’s did he look good, hair pulled back, a few pieces framing his face from the way he pulled off his helmet, cheeks slightly pink from the bite of the wind.

Then, before you could overthink it, you asked, “Do you…want to come in? For a cup of tea?”

Sirius’ lips twitched, amusement flickering in his eyes. “Thought you’d never ask.”

Inside, the two of you sat on your sofa, tea in hand, conversation flowing effortlessly.

Until you found yourself staring.

Really, it wasn’t your fault, it was his.

He just looked like he was hand-carved by the God’s, not just that, he looked like they took their sweet time with him. Eyes almsot sparkling under the dimly lit light of your lamp, you had no control over it—the way your eyes flickered from his lips, to his eyes, just absorbing every inch of his face.

Sirius arched a brow. “What’s the verdict?”

You blinked. “What?”

“Without your drunk goggles…” His voice was lower now, edged with mischief and something more. He leaned in impossibly closer to you, the heat of his breath, ghosting past the shell of your ear, sending an involuntary shiver down you spine—and he saw the way it ran through you. “Do you still think I’m as hot as you did last night?”

You tongue darted out to wet you lips that had become painfully dry, the second the rough tone of his voice reached your ears, and rung over and over in you head. He’d pulled back just enough to look at you, a slither of space between you.

And in a rare, unfiltered moment of boldness, you answered without hesitation.

“Yes.”

Sirius’ smirk faltered just slightly. His gaze flickered over your face, his fingers drifting from the edge of his knee to ghost just barely grazing yours. But the only thing you could focus on was the way he was looking at you.

He looked like he was considering something. Like he was daring you to say more.

Every part of you wanted to close the space between you, but you couldn’t, you wouldn’t—

“Gods, you’re pretty,” His words came out rushed, yet sincere—almost immediately pressing his lips to yours. Hands no longer hovering over your skin, pressing his palms on your thighs and leaning into you—you couldn’t exactly hold yourself up, not when your fingertips were trailing up his neck, toying with the stray hairs at his nape.

Falling softly against the settee, kiss becoming more intense as the moments passed—his hands travelling, gripping you hip, inching up to hold your waist, chests heaving against each other. Sirius had been dying for this, excruitatingly impatient and feverish in his actions, airy sighs and muffled groans passing between you.

“Sirius—mmpf,”

Your hold shifting from his hair to grasp at his shirt, the other trailing up underneath, palm hot and pressed firmly to his chest, sliding towards his shoulder, leaving light red lines in the wake of your soft scratches. Neck craning into him as his kisses travelled slowly down your jaw—nipping and sucking at the thin skin, before trailing back up—lips parted and swollen, memorising your face.

Blown out pupils, cheeks reddened, half-lidded, just perfect. His hands inched up slowly, running over the dip of your waist, the curve of your breasts, resting at your neck, pulling you up slightly and taking your bottom lip between his teeth—earning him the sweetest whimper.

Silently thanking your drunk self for granting you access to this, enjoying the moment as it continued—melting into eachother’s indulgent and plentiful touches.

#fic recs

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edna-skiffens · 3 months ago

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Can I go back to college/young twenties and have this experience? I did it wrong.

a night to remember

(pt2 x)

sirius black x afab!reader ⊹ 4.2k

cw ⟢ alcohol, swearing, sirius has a motorbike, drunk!reader, partying, drinking games, reader is a bit reckless

most of the time you avoided parties, you warned her that it was for good reason, marlene doesn't believe you could do any harm. she was so wrong, watching you in action as you make sirius black your first victim.

a/n: not proofread, im tempted to make a part two of this bcs i want biker sirius so BAD RARARARARAR also a bit dialogue heavy sorry x

Maybe, your first mistake was letting Marlene persuade you into attending this party her friend was holding. She’d been slowly wearing you down for weeks, planting the seed in your head ages before she popped the question.

And when you completely refused the first time, she didn’t push—oh no, that wasn’t her style. Instead, when she next came over—she subtly reintroduced the idea while handing you a pastry she’d bought enroute. You still didn’t entertain the idea, much prefering a night-in the mingling with drunk people, but you enjoyed the sweet treat.

Unfortunetly though, you were a weak soul, and she exactly how to sweeten you up, passing by your work when you were on your break, hinting at the idea again, this time you seemed very so slightly more agreeable. Finally, the straw that broke the camels back was when she came over to your small studio, matcha in hand, dvd copy of a film you’d been itching to see, and a bag of snacks.

Bringing it up again, this time with a little anecode—talking about the sweet girl who helped her secure her tattooing apprenticeship, Dorcas, and saying she couldn’t possibly go without her best friend.

With an exasperated sigh, you caved.

You had to commend her commitment to the cause.

Or maybe your real mistake was finally arriving at the party, only for Marlene—relentless as ever—to push a drink into your hand. "It’ll work wonders for the nerves," she assured you. "Everyone needs a bit of liquid courage."

You eyed the shot glass like it had personally offended you. "Marlene, I—"

"One," she cut in smoothly. "Just one. You’ll barely feel it."

That was a lie.

The drink burned as you forced yourself to swallow, a shiver running down your spine as a twisted grimace stuck to your face. Marlene just laughed, handing you another shot with a loud, "Bottoms up!"

And gods, you hated how quickly the liquor hit you. A slow, creeping warmth unfurled in your chest, blurring the sharp edges of the world, making your limbs feel weightless. The music pulsed through the floorboards, and suddenly, the crowd didn’t seem so unbearable.

If you were sober, you’d have scolded yourself, too easily coming the drunk that you dreaded being around—it wasn’t that you were messy or angry, no. You, thankfully, weren’t an emotional drunk either.

You were a friendly drunk.

The kind that skipped around with a too big, lazy grin pastered on your face for no reason, laugh with a bellow at silly things, and struck up conversations with strangers as if you’d known them your whole life.

You’d become a liability, not that Marlene minded, she lived for moments when you’d step out of your skin. And of course she knew you were fun, that’s why you were friends, but you reserved that side of you for a select few—clearly unless there was alcohol involved.

With the now, tipsy warmth curling through your veins, you found yourself nodding along enthusiastically to a conversation you hadn’t even been fully listening to.

At least this time it was with a familiar face.

You’d coincidentally met James when you’d called Marlene in need of a jumpstart, and she came to save the day with him, friendship easily blossoming between you.

He definetly wasn’t as drunk as you, but getting there for sure. He stood beside you, animated as ever—you’d had the brilliant idea of perching precariously on the edge of the sofa, swaying back and forths, swinging and kicking your legs out recklessly.

James had somehow fallen to the role of your bodyguard, not that he minded—finding you wildly entertaining, such a stark contrast from your usual self. He was just ensuring you didn’t cause too much chaos to those around you.

Though even when you did, all it took was one innocent wolfish grin and a candied giggle, to get away with it.

You still thought you had wits about you, vaguely aware of Marlene laughing at you from across the room.

It was all going quite well—until someone suggested Ring of Fire.

At first, you’d hesitated, knowing your tendancy to be a sore loser, but James had thrown an arm around you, grinning wildly, and Marlene had shouted something about how you needed to experience a proper drinking game at least once in your life. And well—you didn’t take much persuading.

Now, you were thoroughly trapped, wedged between James and another girl whose name you’d already forgotten, with a circle of people watching as you reached for a card from the makeshift pile in the center. Your fingers fumbled slightly, and James snorted.

“Steady there, love,” he teased, nudging you. “You pull a king, and we’re all doomed.”

You squinted at him, then at the card in your hand—a five. A chorus of cheers erupted around the group as someone yelled, “Five is for guys!” and the men groaned before collectively downing their drinks. James, ever the showman, made a dramatic display of it, throwing his head back with an exaggerated gasp before slinging an arm over your shoulders again.

You were well and truly out of your depth, the alcohol buzzing around your chest plesantly, your cheeks aching from laughing so much.

And then the front door swung open.

You’d never seen him before, knew absolutely nothing about him—but boy did you want to. There was just something about him, striking in the way he commanded the attention of the entire room without trying.

He didn’t so much as walk into the room to he did claim it, a lazy smirk already tugging at his lips as he surveyed the scene before him. Dressed in that same effortless, disheveled charm, hair pulled back into a low bun, helmet in hand, clad in leather, jacket slung over his shoulders like he owned the place.

Trapped by James at your side, your eyes remained fixed on Sirius, watching as he scanned the room—pausing, briefly, when his gaze landed on you.

You were shamelessly staring.

Dorcas couldn’t help it, the moment too good, the opportunity had practically fallen directly into her lap—begging to be taken.

“Well, well,” she mused under her breath, amusement thick in her voice. “Looks like someone’s got an admirer.”

You tore your gaze away, face burning, but it was too late—Sirius had already caught you. And judging by the slow, knowing grin spreading across his face, he wasn’t about to let it go unnoticed.

Sirius, with all the confidence of someone who knew exactly how good he looked, strolled over and dropped down into the circle like he’d been there all along. Someone handed him a drink without question—because of course they did—and he took a lazy sip before glancing at the pile of cards in the center.

"Jumping in late, Black?" James quipped, nudging him with his foot.

"Had to make an entrance, didn’t I?" Sirius drawled, flashing an easy smirk

If there was less liquor running through your bloodstream, you’d have been painfully embarrased still, you just managed to roll your eyes, the flush on your face slowly fading.

The game continued, rounds passing in a blur of drinks and laughter, and then—Marlene pulled a queen.

A wicked grin stretched across her face.

"Question round," someone cheered, already bracing for the chaos.

Dorcas, sitting cross-legged beside her, tilted her head, a slow smirk curling at the edges of her lips. "Alright, Marls," she mused, voice sweet and deceivingly innocent. "How many piercings do you have?"

Marlene blinked, clearly caught off guard. Then, after a moment of thought, she grinned proudly. "Nine."

A beat of silence. Then, a chorus of impressed murmurs.

"Hmmm" her voice adopting a skeptical and accusitory intonation, raising a single finger, " I only count seven."

There was a half-step of silence, allowing Marlene to take a large swig from her glass, leaning back confidently, chest puffed—”I’ve got nine.”

The group erupted.

Hoots and hollers filled the air, people whistling, James cackling beside you as someone banged a fist against the floor in delight. Marlene simply sipped her drink, looking unbearably smug as Dorcas sat back, expression nothing short of victorious.

"I knew it," she said, smirking.

"You minx," James gasped dramatically, clutching his chest. "And here I thought I knew everything about you!"

"You've gotta leave some mystery, Jamie," Marlene teased, winking.

You laughed along with the rest of them, but you felt Sirius shift beside you, an amused huff of laughter escaping him. When the cheers finally settled, it was his turn.

With the air of someone who was far too entertained by all of this, he turned his gaze onto James. "Alright, Prongs," he drawled, tapping his fingers against his bottle. "How many tattoos have you got?"

James sputtered mid-sip, nearly choking on his drink. "What—?!"

Sirius grinned. "Come on, be honest. We’re among friends here."

James set his drink down, shaking his head with an exaggerated sigh. "You wish you knew, Pads."

"That’s not a number," Dorcas sing-songed, leaning forward. "Give us a number, Potter."

James narrowed his eyes, clearly debating his options. Finally, he huffed. "Three."

The room went silent for a split second before absolute chaos ensued.

You turned to him, betrayed—”WHERE?!" someone shrieked.

"Liar!" Marlene accused, pointing dramatically.

Sirius, looking thoroughly entertained, leaned back on his hands, his grin positively wolfish. "Well, well, well."

James was grinning now, clearly enjoying the uproar he’d caused. He waggled his eyebrows at the group, leaning back against the sofa with the air of someone who knew he held all the power in this moment.

"Three?" Marlene repeated, narrowing her eyes in suspicion. "Three?"

James simply raised his drink to his lips, taking a slow, exaggerated sip.

Everyone knew about his arm tattoo, Dorcas having done the fineline work herself, now watching him like she was trying to decipher a particularly tricky puzzle.

"Okay, okay," you cut in, still giggling. "But where?"

The group leaned in, expectant.

James smirked. "Wouldn't you like to know?"

The reaction was immediate—groans, shouts, a few cushions thrown in his direction.

"James!" Marlene practically whined, flopping onto Dorcas in defeat. "You can’t just say that and not elaborate!"

But James only shrugged, clearly reveling in his newfound mystery. "A magician never reveals his secrets."

The group was still laughing when the game moved on, but you could feel the shift in the air, the residual heat of the conversation lingering like smoke. Your tipsy mind was already running with possibilities, and judging by the way Marlene kept side-eyeing James with renewed suspicion, you weren’t the only one.

And then it was your turn.

You reached for a card, flipping it over to reveal—another queen.

A fresh round of chaos stirred.

"Oooooh," Marlene cooed, nudging you excitedly. "Alright, sweetheart, pick your victim."

Your mind swam through options, but in your slightly drunken haze, you weren’t feeling particularly cruel. You hummed in thought, gaze flickering across the group.

And then, as if pulled by some unseen force, your eyes landed on Sirius.

The second your gaze met his, a slow, knowing smirk curled at his lips.

Oh, this was dangerous—but you were already committed.

"Sirius," you said sweetly, feigning innocence. "How many people in this room have you kissed?"

A sharp, collective oooooooh echoed through the space, the energy shifting into something much more intrigued.

Sirius grinned.

James, beside you, let out a delighted cackle, clapping his hands together. "Merlin, I love this game."

Marlene gasped, eyes gleaming. "Oh, this is good."

Sirius exhaled through his nose, amusement flickering behind his eyes as he stretched his legs out, completely at ease despite the attention suddenly pinned on him. He tilted his head, pretending to think.

"Well," he mused, his voice rich with amusement, "define kissed."

More shouts, more laughter.

James practically howled. "Mate, that is not a difficult question."

"It is if you’re me," Sirius shot back smoothly.

Sirius looked at you then—directly at you—his smirk slow and teasing, like he knew exactly what he was doing.

"Tell you what," he murmured, leaning forward slightly, voice just loud enough for the group to hear. "Why don’t you take a guess?"

The room erupted again, an unmistakeble flush sprung to your cheeks, and everything you could've possibly said left you brain. His gaze making your brain melt more than it already had.

You were so finished.

More rounds passed, more drinks were downed, and at some point, you’d stopped keeping track of who was winning and who was just there to cause chaos.

And then you pulled a king.

The last king.

The reaction was immediate.

A loud gasp, followed by a dramatic, "Ohhh, shit!" from someone behind you. The cup in the middle—an ungodly mix of everyone’s leftover drinks—was waiting.

James’ face dropped.

You see, not only were you easily affected by alcohol, you’d spent the majority of the night backing drinks faster than your body could handle, and you weren’t of a particularly large stature—the abomination in the middle, was a full bottles worth of alcohol.

He’d been sobering up the last half hour anyway, but now, he was fully aware of what was about to happen.

“Absolutely not,” he declared, sitting up straighter, his hand already halfway to intercepting. “That is the last thing you need right now.”

You waved him off, a lopsided grin on your face. “I can handle it.”

That was with out a doubt the alcohol talking.

James knew it. You probably knew it.

But it didn’t matter, because the group was already chanting, egging you on, and you’d never been one to back down from a challenge. With a flourish, you grabbed the cup, giving James a wink before throwing it back.

It was foul.

The mix of liquor burned like fire, and you had to fight the urge to gag, blinking rapidly through the sting. The room cheered as you slammed the empty cup down, a ridiculous war cry-esque sound leaving you in triumph, but the moment you stood—legs wobbling dangerously—James knew.

You’d lost.

He reached for you, but you were already stumbling back, nearly landing on Marlene, who had to clutch your arm to steady you.

"Oh, that’s it," she howled, practically doubling over in laughter. "She’s a goner."

That traitor. She’d basically brainwashed you into coming to a party—got you smashed and was cosigning the beginning of a truly awful reign of terror.

That drink had been the finishing blow. You’d teetered over the edge and were now firmly in the reckless drunk category—something Marlene had only ever warned James about once, you always kept such a tightlid on yourself. Your friends knew that—once in a blue moon indulging in the fun things in life, moments when your friends got to see you let loose were few and far inbetween. Even for Marlene, and you’ve known her most of your life.

More than anything, it was because you weren’t the biggest fan your drunk self. Usually insighting casual chaos here and there, nothing too extreme. But after, you always felt like you’d been a chore, fearful of having ruined the night for others with your outlandish tendancies.

Even though your friends tell you that you’re really not as bad as you think you are.

Although, tonight you seem hellbend on proving them wrong.

Because now you’d disappeared.

Not literally. You were still very much in the room, but now, no one could keep track of you.

You weren’t drinking anymore—thank Merlin for that, because your bladder was full to the brim—but you were everywhere else.

One second, you were twirling in the middle of the room, grabbing strangers to spin around with you. The next, you were on the table, belting out the lyrics to the song playing—all wrong, but with such confidence that no one cared.

At some point, a layer of your clothing had come off—a jacket? A sweater?—and you’d swung it around ungracefully, whipping James in the face at least once.

“For the love of God,” he groaned, trying to wrestle it from your grip.

Sirius was watching now, equal parts entertained and mildly concerned, swirling his drink as he leaned back, eyebrows raised. Marlene and Dorcas were in stitches, watching as you flitted across the room like an untamed storm, dancing and twirling with whoever would let you. And then, just as James was considering whether or not he needed to actually intervene, he noticed something.

The person you were currently dancing with?

Not a stranger at all.

Sirius, still looking far too entertained, raised an eyebrow as you grabbed his hands, spinning him wildly. “Well, well,” he drawled, lips curling into a slow smirk as he let you drag him into the chaos. “Didn’t think I was your type, sweetheart.”

You didn’t even register the teasing lilt in his voice.

“Less talking more dancing!” you all but commanded, tugging him forward. It wasn’t long before the music began to shift. Gone were the loud, reckless beats that had fueled your earlier antics—replaced now by something smoother, sultrier. A deep bass thrummed through the room, the melody melting into something slow and seductive.

It seeped into your bloodstream, guided your movements as you swayed, your body languid and fluid, the weight of the night settling into your limbs like honey. Sirius was still there, his hands warm where they rested against your waist, fingers pressing just enough to keep you anchored, to keep you from stumbling.

You leaned into him, movements effortlessly enticing, not even trying to tempt but doing so anyway. A playful game of push and pull—dancing just out of reach before melting back into him, the alcohol making you bolder, more carefree.

His grip on you tightened instinctively when you rocked back against him, your head tipping back in laughter, body fitting against his like you belonged there. His breath hitched—just slightly—but you didn’t seem to notice, still lost in the music, in the moment, in the way the world spun around you like a hazy dream. You weren’t as untamed as before, the mellow thump of the music, allowed your heartrate to slow—the pressure of the night antics settling into your bones.

You hummed into him, less clumsy than you’d had been when you first reached for his hand, alcohol less polluting in your veins—your eyes now able to focus on him. With a hand on his neck, fingertips threaded into the stray hairs at the nape of his neck, you pulled him down towards you, lips brushing the shell of his ear, your breath warm as you whispered, "I need some fresh air."

Sirius barely had time to process your words before you pulled away, slipping from his grasp with a grin and making your way toward the open doors leading to the garden. He watched as you paused at the threshold, silhouetted by the moonlight, eyes locked onto something beyond.

The pool.

The cool air hugged you so pleasantly, diffusing the heat that had been radiating off of your skin the whole evening. The surface of the water ever so light, occassional ripples—so tranquill, almost gleaming under the night sky, the water dancing with silvery reflections, beckoning you closer.

And it did call to you—so much so that you felt incline to reach for the hem of your sweater and tugged it over your head, revealing the soft fabric of your tank top beneath. “Oh, fuck,” he muttered, watching you stand prettily, skin softly illuminated by the lights in the garden. But still standing just a touch too far away.

Sirius blinked, gaze flickering back to you as you stretched, rolling your shoulders, feigning nonchalance. “Bit warm in here,” you mused.

James, horror dawning, immediately turned to Sirius. He shook his head at James, almost as if to wordlessly say, “She wouldn’t,”

But James has a pained expression, his face scrunched, with a wince and a knowing nod—affirming that, yes, you actually would.

You shimmied out of your bottoms.

Marlene gasped, Dorcas choked on her drink, and James physically recoiled. “Oh, no, no, no—"

But it was too late.

There you stood—clad in nothing but your tank top and what Sirius can’t help but notice is a very pretty set of lacy underwear, utterly unbothered as you took a step forward, toes curling against the cool tiles at the pool’s edge.

Sirius barely had the presence of mind to curse before you ran.

For a second, there was silence, all remaining eyes in the room looked to the outside.

“Oh, fuck me—"

Sirius was already moving, yanking his shirt off in one swift motion before diving in after you, water crashing around him. The water was so cold, mindnumbingly so—but when he resurfaced, hair dripping, chest heaving, scanning the pool for you—still unable to believe the situation he was in right now, trousers heavy, socks soaked, just generally soaked actually. He was quick to spot you—

You were fine.

More than fine, actually—floating on your back, eyes closed, a blissful smile on your face.

Sirius blinked. "What the fuck?" Forcing harshly out of his mouth to deter the chlorine filled water from entering his mouth.

You turned your head, grinning at him. “That was refreshing.”

"Refreshing?" he repeated, incredulous, pushing his wet hair back, stands now fell from where it was so neatly tied back before.

"You jumped in without a second thought—"

“I’m sure she thought about it, just a bit,” Marlene quipped from the sidelines, towels in hands, clearly thriving in the chaos.

James, still looking slightly pale, pinched the bridge of his nose, mumbling how this was surely going to make him die young.

You giggled, drifting closer to Sirius, who was still trying to wrap his head around the fact that you’d actually done it. "Sorry to ruin your hero moment," you teased, nudging him with your foot. "But—" You tipped your head back, stretching your arms through the water lazily. "I do know how to swim, Black."

Sirius just stared at you, shaking his head with a soft chuckle, mumbling something along the lines your, ”you really are something, huh,”

The water lapped around you in gentle waves as you floated aimlessly, your limbs loose, body weightless. The shock of the cool pool had settled into a pleasant hum beneath your skin, the drunken haze in your mind softened but still present, making everything feel easier.

Your gaze, however, wasn’t on the water.

It was on him.

Sirius hoisted himself up onto the edge of the pool, arms flexing effortlessly as he pulled his weight onto the marble. The muscles in his back tensed as he leaned forward slightly, shaking out his wet hair, droplets running down his bare skin. The moonlight cast him in a silvery glow, accentuating every dip and ridge of his toned body, the inky swirls of his tattoos stark against his skin. You traced them with your eyes, shamelessly drinking him in—how the water clung to his chest, glistening; how his dark hair dripped, stray strands curling against his sharp jaw.

You swam toward him without thinking, the water parting easily as you pushed through. When you reached the pool’s edge, you rested your arms on his thighs, then let your head fall onto his lap, blinking up at him through wet lashes.

Sirius exhaled, a sharp breath, and you barely noticed how his jaw tensed.

The water had made your tank top nearly translucent, clinging to your body, the outline of your breasts painfully visible. He swallowed, throat bobbing, his usually sharp tongue failing him for a beat too long.

You remained completely oblivious, your grin lazy, gaze full of an almost innocent mischief. Your fingers trailed idly over his knee, aimless, absentminded.

“Y’know, Sirius,” you mused, your voice honeyed with liquor and warmth, “you’re really hot.”

Before he could process the words, you shifted—lifting yourself up just enough to press a soft, fleeting kiss against his lips, the taste of pool water lingering between you.

And then, just as easily as you came, you pulled back, tilting your head at him with an amused little hum, as if you had no idea what you’d just done.

Sirius stared.

Then, suddenly, he let out an incredulous laugh, the sound rich and disbelieving. He fell back, his back colliding with the cold marble of the poolside, one hand running through his dripping hair as he shook his head.

“Fucking hell,” he muttered, voice laced with wry amusement, staring up at the night sky. "You're gonna kill me, sweetheart.”

#fic recs #soooo freaking cute

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edna-skiffens · 4 months ago

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Still genuinely baffles me every time I remember that the average person isn’t in some form of pain all the time.

Like..not even a tiny bit???

It’s actually crazy to me every time I remember that most people actually don’t experience pain outside of injuries.

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edna-skiffens · 4 months ago

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#reframing

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edna-skiffens · 4 months ago

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There was no magic.

There was no one new.

There was definitely no Sirius.

Tonight was a bust.

I left early…. 🙄

would you like a piece? | sirius black x reader

summary: you fall victim to sirius' flirting, but you aren't the only one who gets flustered.

warnings: introverted reader; of-age drinking/smoking; heavy flirting; kissing; uhmmm… sharing gum? idk

<3 thank you for all your sweet words on my last fic! i haven’t had this much motivation to do anything fun for just myself outside of work in ages, so this has been good for me. and people actually liking something i write?? unfathomable but i am so happy about it. xoxo!

“Sorry, I’ve forgot my manners. Would you like a piece?” you ask him, face flushing once again.

“Yes, please.” He replies sweetly. When you start to reach into your pocket, he speaks again, “No, no. I want that one.” As he points to… your mouth?

*ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚

“You will be there tonight, end of story.”

You’re rifling through your purse in search of your wallet, needing it to pay for the candle you found in the clearance section of your favorite shop, but also needing it as an excuse to ignore your very persistent friend.

“You never come to any of our parties! I’m starting to think that it's because you hate me.” James whined, following close behind you as you thank the cashier and head for the door. He beats you to it, standing directly in your way. You huff and look up at him in half fake annoyance.

“Please, Y/N. Lily misses you dearly.” He all but begs.

“Sure. She misses me for my brilliant baking skills.” You tease. You’re pushing past him, out into the warm breeze.

He is nothing if not stubborn. “Would we be heartbroken if you brought that delicious blueberry panna cotta you make? No! But we would be heartbroken without your charming company.” He insists.

The thing is, you have been to much more of James and Lily’s get togethers than he is giving you credit for. So many, in fact, that you know it will go poorly. The group is much too vibrant for you to keep up with at times, and lately you’ve been favoring your quiet home over the excitement of socializing. Lately as in, always. But you can’t say no to James, he’s much too kind to let down. The whole group is too kind, having welcomed you in with open arms even if you are quite shy.

So, you can’t say no. Especially since James has essentially stalked you down while you’re out on your weekend errands with the intent to persuade you to hang out them. It’s not my fault you are impossible to reach by owl, he had said in his defense.

“Alright, I’ll be there.” You concede. Before he can get too excited, you hold a finger up, “But, I will be bringing biscuits, not panna cotta.” You wait for disappointment, but instead are met with a strong, brotherly bear hug and a smacking kiss on the top of your head.

“Wonderful! I knew you didn’t hate me.” He exclaims as he lets you go, glasses now crooked from his excitement.

“I’m going for Lily.” You say, deadpan.

✩ ✩

Later in the evening, your room is now an awful mess of clothes from how many outfits you’ve tried on and taken off, finally ending up wearing the very first outfit you tried on. Afraid now that you are a splinch risk from how active your nerves are, the decision to walk to the party is an easy one. Luckily the weather is nice, and their place is only a few blocks from yours. Why James didn’t just come to bug you at your front door is a mystery.

After a short walk, you've found yourself in front of their wooden front door, adjusting the tote bag of sweets you brought with you on your shoulder for the millionth time since you started your walk. You had made sure to make more than enough to go around. Booming laughter can be heard from outside the door. Shoot, are you that late?

Before you can even knock, the door is being swung open, allowing the laughter to be turned to full volume as well as Lily's bright white smile to blind you.

"You're here! I was sure James was bluffing when he said you'd come." She's enveloping you in a tight hug before you can adjust the bag again, so it falls to the crook of your elbow as you give her a weaker one in return. She pulls away, "Come in! Everyone's already here."

You're ushered in, the door being shut behind you and the laughter having died off. Great, all eyes are now on you. Closest to you, James is sitting on the couch, arm draped across the back of it like Lily had been cuddled there moments ago before she got the door. On the other side of the L shaped furniture sits Dorcas, head laying in Marlene’s lap. Squeezed in the corner next to them is Peter, punch in hand. Remus and Mary sit in the two-person loveseat next to them, a bowl of caramel corn between the two that you will brave up the courage to ask for later. Lastly, Sirius Black. Regrettably the first person you noticed. He’s standing behind the recliner, ringed hands on the back and sleeves rolled up to showcase how well his tattoos contrast with his pale skin. He’s smiling something fierce at you, so naturally, you look away. No one’s saying anything quick enough and you hate it, so you fill the silence.

“I brought two kinds of biscuits.” You raise your arm at an awkward angle, the bag swinging a bit at the movement.

“Y/N!”

“Darling!”

“She lives!”

“BISCUITS!”

Various cheering resigns in your honor, bringing a blush to your face. They really are too kind.

“I’ll take those off your hands, sweetheart. Wouldn’t want your pretty arm getting sore so soon into the night, would we?” Sirius says, gently grabbing the bags handle and sliding it off your forearm, his fingers brushing your skin in the process. You ignore the goosebumps.

“Bullocks, you just want them all to yourself!” Peter all but yells from the couch.

He ignores the accusation, gesturing to the chair he was behind “Please, have a seat.”

You do as you are told as Lily sits back down as well. Sirius takes the tins out of your bag and sets them up on the coffee table, opening them and not-so-sneakily taking two for himself.

“What flavors are there?” Marlene asks quizzically as you take your seat and set your purse down at your feet.

“Raspberry shortbread and double chocolate chip.”

A resounding awe sounds in the room, a few getting up or leaning forward to help themselves. Sirius has made his way back, this time seating himself on the arm of the chair you are sitting in. You see him only out of your peripherals while you listen in on James as he speaks to the room.

“Anyways, that’s when I learned that nifflers are not as friendly as they look.” He scowls in memory. You must have interrupted his story when you arrived, but you can tell even without context that it had been funny.

“Or it just didn’t like you because you’re poor.” Remus suggests with a laugh.

“Oi!”

A loud play fight ensues as you sit back to people watch. Dorcus and Marlene have gone onto their own conversation, Peter too occupied to join with the three biscuits he has managed to fit in his mouth. Mary sips on her drink, trying not to laugh as Remus and James go back and forth, Lily holding the latter’s arm as if he might actually swing. It’s all in good fun, and you are quite enjoying the show.

Moments later you feel a light tap on your shoulder and look over to see that Sirius is still there. He usually makes his presence much more known, so it startles you a bit. He’s holding out a shortbread for you, which you take with a small smile. He holds eye contact for a few seconds, as if inspecting your face, before flashing his own teeth. He looks up to the crowd.

“Gentlemen! Either kiss each other or move on. Now, drinks anyone?” He asks the room, counting who says yes and standing up to head to the kitchen, “Doll, could you lend me a hand?” It takes you one more second than it should to realize he’s talking to you, and you nod quickly and follow behind him.

The both of you reach the kitchen and Sirius starts to set out a row of clear plastic cups. You stand next to him, a good foot between the two of you. “Though, I’m not sure my hands or arms will be of any use. They’re still sore from the journey over here.” You joke, referring to his comment from earlier.

His eyes light up, fully forgetting the task at hand as he turns to you and joins in on the act, “Oh, well that’s no good! They are much too nice to be in any pain. Here,” He’s grabbing at your wrists, “let me make them better.”

You are usually never at the receiving end of Sirius Black’s flirting, and it’s a shock to your very core. Sure, he’s always been unreasonably sweet on you, but this was different. Different because he is now kissing your knuckles. Oh Godric.

All you can do is giggle to hide the fact that you can’t really breathe as he finishes planting kisses on your hands. He straightens up, looking pleased with his work. He hasn’t dropped your hands, and you think that maybe you are okay with that.

Suddenly, James is at the entrance of the kitchen. “We are going to start a bonfire out back! Bring the drinks out when your done with… whatever you’re doing.” Before either of you can answer he’s left, presumably to the back yard with the rest of the group. Your hands have been dropped, and Sirius clears his throat.

“So, all better?” He smiles.

“Yes. Healthy as a horse.” You croak.

“Good. Now... do you want a single or a double?” He smirks mischievously, holding up a handle of liquor. You’ll need all you can get if he keeps looking at that, so you hold up a peace sign. He nods appreciatively.

Soon after you are carrying a small tray of drinks out into the back yard, Sirius close behind with the rest. Their yard is charming and bigger than you remember, fairy lights strung overhead and a gas firepit in the center. Surrounding it are two half circle outdoor couches, filled by your friends. The sun has almost completely set now, the sky a pretty mix of dark red and orange.

You make it over to them, handing drinks out before taking your own seat next to Lily and James. The fire keeps you safe from the nighttime chill in the air, as does the boy who sits right next to you. He takes and stacks the tray you still have in your hand with his own and sets them to the side as you take a sip of your fruity drink. They put the right person in charge of mixing tonight, as you can barely taste any alcohol. Magic.

“So, Y/N. What have you been up to?” Dorcus asks you directly from across the fire. “We haven’t seen you in ages.”

Shit. “Oh, you know. Working, sleeping, eating.” You say, “I did just get a new record the other day, The Cure.” You grasp for something clever and exciting to say but fall short.

“I love The Cure!” Marlene exclaims from Dorcus’ side, grinning.

“Don’t they have that days of the week song?” Mary asks. She starts humming something close to how the song sounds.

“Friday I’m in Love!” James shouts, raising up a fist.

“Wait, you aren’t in love with me every day?” Lily gasps.

He balks, “Darling, light of my life, I will love you every day until I die.” They kiss, and it is so sweet it might make you sick.

It must show on your face, because Sirius starts booing beside you, “Get a room!”

“Oi, you’re just jealous you aren’t the one snogging me, Pads.” James says after he pulls away.

“That’s hardly snogging. You should see Sirius on tequila. He went straight up dementor on a poor girl two weekends ago.” Remus chimes in.

“Oh please, tequila makes everyone slutty! You remember your birthday last year, do you not?” He defends and accuses.

“What are you drinking now?” You ask curiously.

He goes still, smirking down at you. “Wouldn’t you like to know, sweetheart.”

Before he can see how red your face gets, a pebble hits him right in the temple, bouncing off near the fire. “Boo! Not you two as well.” Peter complains.

Before you can say something along the lines of Not it’s not like that! Sirius is firing back. “You’d do the same if it meant having an endless supply of baked goods for the rest of your life.”

Peter thinks on this for a second. “You’re right. Y/N, would you like to get married?”

Laughter erupts around you, but your face is still hot from the attention. Or the fire. Probably both if you’re being honest. You’d think they only liked you for your sweets, but you would be delusional if you did. You may not be the biggest fan of socializing, but something about tonight is filling a hole in your chest you weren’t aware you had. You feel like you belong. Maybe you should stop rejecting their invitations.

Conversation flows, you doing more listening than talking, and soon enough you are sipping the rest of your drink as the ice slides down the cup and wets your nose. You quickly wipe the dampness away with your jacket sleeve. James notices and is already on it, gesturing for you to hand him your empty cup.

“Someone’s thirsty. Any more refreshments anyone?” He asks, getting a resounding yes from the crowd, “Lilykins, Remus, help me, will you? We’ll set up cornhole after, because if muggles got one thing right it’s their drinking games!”

“I’ll help too. And grab some of the snacks from inside.” Peter says, following after them.

The rest of the girls get up too, Marlene mentioning something about a smoke, Mary about the loo, and soon it’s just you and Sirius by the fire. It’s unusually quiet, the light crackling of the fire suddenly audible. It’s strange, Sirius being so quiet. You reckon something might be on his mind. Or, alternatively, he is more attuned to his surroundings than he acts and has noticed how partial you are to the quiet. If the second, you should be grateful, if only you didn’t like his voice so much. Oh my, do you fancy Sirius Black?

Not having anything to say, you keep your hands busy, reaching into your pocket to find the pack of gum you stuck in before you left. You pull out a piece for yourself and slide it back into your pocket, then unwrap your piece and put it in your mouth. All the while, you are being watched closely by the boy next to you. You look up at him.

“Sorry, I’ve forgot my manners. Would you like a piece?” you ask him, face flushing once again.

“Yes, please.” He replies sweetly. When you start to reach into your pocket, he speaks again, “No, no. I want that one.” As he points to… your mouth?

“What?” You ask a bit too loud.

“You heard me, doll.” If flirting was an Olympic sport this man would have a gold medal. Holy shit.

“Uhmmm…” You draw out, fighting an internal war with yourself over whether or not you want to entertain his request. The double you drank earlier is making you lean towards yes.

He seems to recognize your panic and is about to say something entirely too sweet and understanding, but you beat him to it. “Okay.”

“Okay?” he says, a bit caught off guard, shaking his head enough so his long hair falls in front of his face.

“You can have it.” You decide aloud.

He’s looking at you with intense, grey eyes, a small smile gracing his lips as he looks down at your own. Quickly, he’s sliding a hand through his jet-black hair, and then he’s then leaning in slow, almost staccato, eyeing your face for any signs of discomfort. There seems to be none as his nose brushes against yours.

Eyes still open, you are now looking back and forth between the two of his, waiting for his next move. Suddenly you remember yourself and the means for this proximity, so you push your chewing gum to the front of your mouth and hold it between your teeth. You can’t so much see his smile, but you feel the burst of air on your lips as he laughs quietly, entertained by you.

Finally moving again, he crowds your space and places his hand on the side of your neck. He tilts to the side and your lips gently, so gently, touch. A whisper of a kiss. His tongue grazes your bottom lip for less than a second before he’s using his teeth to take the gum from between your own. Soon after, he’s leaning out of your space and back into his, chewing the gum around the biggest smile you’ve seen out of him tonight. You feel like you’ve been zapped by lightning, nerves aflame.

Not being able to contain yourself, you let out a loud laugh, followed by another, smaller giggle. And Sirius, he eats it up. He joins in on your giddiness, bumping his shoulder against yours playfully.

The moment is cut short when you hear a loud crash inside, followed by a shouting Lily.

Sirius frowns, looking over your shoulder. “I’ve told Prongs that magic and drinking do not mix, but he refuses to listen.”

James is opening the back door, and you notice his hair seems a bit singed at the ends. "They don't call it fire whisky for no reason!" he shouts, giggling before he's being pulled back inside by an annoyed Lily.

"He needs one of those leashes parents put on their children in grocery stores." You suggest.

Sirius chuckles, "Yes, quite right. Or a hazmat suit."

You both sit for a moment longer in the quiet, but not long before he's standing up. He extends a hand out to you, and you'd say he looked bashful if you didn't know him so well. Sirius doesn't get bashful.

You grab his hand, letting him help you up, and he only let's go of it as you both step inside. You miss the warmth immediately.

✩ ✩

After another few more rounds of drinks and a full-contact game of cornhole, Peter sits in the couch with a bag of frozen peas on his head and a concerned Mary tending to him. He’d fallen victim to James’ ruthful competitiveness. You had opted out of playing, having sat with the girls and Remus on the side while Peter, James, Sirius, and Dorcus threw beanbags more times at each other than they did at the boards. You quite liked watching them play, like a child likes to go to the zoo.

After one too many yawns, you’ve decided to depart for the night. Lily offered a spare room for you, but you are sure that it will be needed by others more than you. You hadn’t had too many, wanting to stay somewhat coherent in case a certain someone tried to get his lips on yours again.

Sirius has been keeping a respectful distance from you for the rest of the night without ignoring you. Light conversation or flirting here and there, but you’d say he was acting a bit… flustered around you after the gum incident. For reasons you couldn’t even start to understand. But, you do enjoy watching him from a far in his own element. Much in the way that you have watched him seduce other men and women alike at parties for well, the entire time you’ve known him. He is so confident it makes you wish you were too. Wish he would teach you his ways.

"Bye everyone, I had a great time." You say quietly to the room, a third of the party asleep on the couch. Lily stands for a hug, squishing her cheek against yours.

"Let's get lunch this week. I miss your cute face." She slurs happily, pinching your cheek.

"Yes, let's." You agree, patting her arm.

You wave goodbye to the rest, grabbing your purse and turning towards the door. Standing nearby is Sirius, holding your tote containing the empty biscuit containers.

"Can I walk you home?" He asks quietly, matching your tone.

You falter, not expecting it. "Uh, yeah. Sure. As long as you carry that for me." You gesture to the bag.

"Of course. Can't be having you hurting your pretty arms." He flirts, and oh boy are you elated from it.

He says his own quick goodbyes before he's getting the door for you. He follows you out and closes it behind him, meeting you at the bottom of the steps.

"Did you drive your motorbike here?" You ask, louder now that you are out of the house.

"No. She needs some work done, so I apparated. Your place is on the way though so... no worries." He explains as the two of you start your walk.

It's fairly quiet as you walk side by side, hands swinging beside each other's in the space between. It's fully nighttime now, the stars almost brighter than the old streetlamps. Toads and crickets can be heard in the distance. It's nice, peaceful, but you almost wish that he would...

You're thought ends abruptly as he laces his fingers with yours. He does it so smoothly you wonder if he had ever let go. You smile to yourself and assume he is doing the same as you continue your walk in comfortable silence.

Once you've reached your front door, the silence ends.

"I hope you enjoyed yourself tonight. I would hate to tell the lot that you never want to see them again." He jokes.

"Oh, I enjoyed myself just fine. No need to break their hearts." You reply.

"Good. You would be missed dearly, sweetheart." He states sincerely.

"And my treats." you smile.

"Yeah, and your treats I suppose." He shrugs, smiling back at you.

Before you think of a clever goodbye, he's taking one step closer to you. "Would you... like your gum back?" He asks, an inch away from being unsure. Nervous, almost.

You, being too jacked up on his kind words and pretty face, nod before you can think twice about it. His confidence comes back full force as he reaches for your face, closing the distance between you two much quicker than the last time.

This time, it's a proper kiss. Lips slotted together, tongues brushing ever so slightly. His palms hold your face to his like you're something special, and you'd believe him if he told you just that. The kiss deepens, a soft noise coming from the back of your throat as you are pushed against the front of your door. He makes a sound in return you'll be thinking about for days. He breaks apart all too soon, sealing it with a firm peck to your lips, then one to your forehead. Both of you pant, wide smiles mirroring on your faces.

"I spit the gum out a while ago when it lost it's flavor. That was just an excuse to kiss you." He says like it wasn't the most obvious thing in the world. Luckily, it wasn't to you.

"I'm glad, but you never need an excuse. Not with me." You say bravely.

The face he gives you is confusing, like he wants to kiss you again but also might get down on one knee. You might be okay with either.

He shakes his head, smiling more to himself this time. You yawn, not easily concealed by your sleeve at your face. He notices. "Alright. Well. I'll get out of your hair. You need your beauty sleep." He falters, "Not that you could get any prettier than you already are. Or- er. Maybe you could, but it might kill me." You could get used to this, Sirius being the same level of flustered as you are. It's cute.

"Goodnight, Sirius." You whisper.

"Goodnight, doll." He whispers back.

You close your door and lean up against it, covering your girlish giggle with a hand and a shake of your head.

Oh my, you do fancy Sirius Black.

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<3 let me know what you thought of this! or don't actually. i don't care. (a complete lie.) ALSO i might write a part two because i feeeel like this might need a part two?

#from now on I’m sticking to my fictional friends lol #it really wasn’t that bad #but I wasted make up and energy on this #and I could’ve had a better time reading fanfics tbh #socializing is overrated tbh #until my real life Sirius or Remus come find me that is #wherever you are and whoever you are I’m waiting and ready 😌

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