#marauders rockstar au

[moonstruckme]

hayy!! so tonight i went to a small little show that my friend was doing with his band, and me and the bassist made crazy eye contact while he sang the lyrics “good, i’m proud of you” to me. (i’m dead) ANYWAYY it made me think, this is kinda out there but maybe a james potter band au?? like he’s a drummer or bassist and you keep making crazy eye contact and the tension is THICK.. (maybe even some groupie activity later??) IDKK i’d love to see youre interpretation 😋 or even just to chat about it!!! i love you’re work sm

That sounds so fun babe! Thanks for sharing omg <3

cw: bar

rockstar!James x fem!reader ♡ 1.1k words

As much as you like Marlene, you’d sort of thought her band was going to be shitty. And in your defense, most of the ones who play this venue, where the crowd is typically too drunk to care what sound fills the space and it only costs a few quid to get in, are pretty amateurish. They’ll play their one or two original songs, then fill the rest of their time with covers, trying all the while to figure out how to work the stage and engage the crowd. 

These guys definitely don’t seem like amateurs. 

Marlene had said they were just starting out, but you don’t believe it. She, as you expected, is incredible. She embodies this fierce, uncaring kind of cool, fingers sliding up and down the neck of her electric guitar with skill you didn’t know she had. The guys in the band aren’t half bad either. The singer has a voice that seems always on the edge of a scream, and he and Marlene play off each other’s energy, him occasionally leaning the mic her way to belt something together. The bassist seems a bit aloof, long fingers moving with an almost lazy dexterity, which seems to be driving the people clustered at the edge of the stage even madder than they might be if he paid them any attention. And the drummer…

Perhaps you’re partial to the drummer because he doesn’t seem like he’s trying to be cool at all. There’s something completely uninhibited about him that lights something in your chest and sends a buzz of excitement through the room, like you’re all feeding off his energy. He looks like he’s having the time of his life. Sweat shines brilliantly on his dusky skin and drips off the ends of curly brown hair that’s just long enough to flop into his eyes. Someone threw him a headband earlier in the show seemingly to help prevent this, so now he’s got it pushed back, curls protruding his head and bouncing as he bobs enthusiastically to the beat. A smile splits his face as he launches into a brief solo, and coincidentally your stomach erupts in butterflies at precisely the same time. 

You’re thinking of trying to jostle your way up to the barricade when the drummer’s eyes take another skim of the crowd, and this time they catch on you. Your heart stutters. A tall figure moves in front of you, obscuring your view of the stage, and when they pass the drummer’s still looking at you. And holy shit. This is eye contact. You’re not totally sure how well he can see you what with the lighting in here, but it feels like his eyes are looking right into yours and saying Hello, nice to meet you. 

A few seconds more and he has to tear his attention away as they go back into the chorus, but your eyes keep finding each other’s. It feels more intimate than it probably should, with several meters of distance between you and the crowded, raucous atmosphere, but you can’t help the giddy lightness that accumulates in your chest over the course of the set. 

During what the singer says will be their last song, his gaze flicks to you with something different in it. It’s not something you can place, but in the next second it’s gone, and all his attention is on his drum solo. You cheer with the rest of the audience as drumsticks fly, almost too quick to see, over the drums and cymbals, and you’re so caught up it takes you a second too long to realize one of them actually is flying. 

Your hands flinch up in front of you just in time, protecting your face and fumbling the drumstick nearly to the ground before you catch it. You look back towards the drummer, and his eyes have flared with alarm. 

“Sorry,” he shouts over the screeching of guitars, earning a glare from the singer a second before all sound cuts out. 

Marlene takes the mic, announcing that they’re done performing for the night but will be available to receive free drinks until closing. The band starts to pack up and leave the stage. 

The crowd splits in two, one half migrating towards the bar and the other towards the exits. You’re not quite sure where to go. You want to meet up with Marlene, maybe give her the drumstick to pass along to her bandmate and thank her for inviting you before you head home, but you’re not bold enough to venture backstage. You cast a glance toward the bar, twirling the wooden stick absentmindedly between your fingers. Maybe you can find a seat to wait for her? 

“You’re not bad at that.” 

You turn, and the drummer from the band is standing behind you. 

“Oh.” You glance down at the drumstick in your hand, feeling a bit silly as you hold it out. “Thanks. Here you go.” 

“Thank you.” His eyes are even better close up. He’s put on glasses, magnifying the warm brown of his irises and the thick, dark lashes that nearly brush his lenses when he blinks. “You looked like you’d be a better catcher.” 

You laugh. “Not sure what would make you think that.” 

“Well, you did manage it in the end.” He smiles. It’s charming with a touch of roguishness, and you get the impression he’s someone accustomed to being forgiven. “Sorry for almost hitting you in the face.” 

You shrug, suddenly unsure what you usually do with your hands. “It happens,” you say. “I don’t take it personally when musicians lose their instruments in my direction.” 

“Oh, well I wasn’t trying to lob it at your head, but tossing it your way wasn’t an accident.” 

Something funny happens in your gut. “It wasn’t?” 

His grin spreads and he shakes his head. “I figured it was my best shot at getting a chance to meet you.” 

Your face heats. You hope you’re not smiling as big as it feels like you are. “You could’ve just asked Marlene,” you say. “No need to throw things.” 

He laughs, a warm and hearty sound. “I’ll have to refine my methods,” he replies. “I’m James.” 

You tell him your name in turn, and he gets this look on his face like it’s the best thing he’s heard all night. 

“Do you wanna join us at the bar for free drinks?” he asks, taking out the headband and ruffling his hair so his curls bounce onto his forehead. It’s more than a little distracting. “I’m sure Marls would love for you to stay.” 

“I…” You glance towards the bar. “I’m pretty sure the free drinks are just for people in the band, no?” 

“Oh, don’t worry about that.” He waves you off, taking your hand and leading you towards the bar. “You won’t be paying regardless. Just tell me what you like.”

[pigeartpng]

Band AU!! Sirius!!!! ROCKSTAR SIRIUS!!!!!

But again, TCOPTP's version 😋

A bit more than a colored sketch but i dont think ill ever properly finish it so take it as it is and have mercy on me

[thenyoumightaswellwrestleangels]

You said you'd stay with us (you swore you'd still be you)

absinthe makes the heart grow fonder - series masterlist here

pairing: poly marauders x reader (gender neutral)

length: 1.5k

genre: rockstar au !! fluff, hurt/comfort

warnings: drummer reader, some real 'where does the performance end and you begin' vibes, reader smokes, it's inferred that they're also drinking, y'all will have to pry bestie peter from my cold dead hands

a/n: oh uuuuuh more pining more yearning more I'm in love with you but I'm too afraid to make it real. like what if you were all in a band and you were all in love and you were all too scared of fucking it all up to say anything

"You're looking awful glum tonight," James points out as he leans against the railing of the balcony you're on. He doesn't reprimand you for sitting on the railing, but he does frown as he glances down to where the ground is, inching closer to you to place a firm hand on your thigh.

"I called the car around - I'm going back to the hotel. You can let the others know if they notice," you respond in a sigh, the smoke leaving your lungs on the exhale as you bring your cigarette to your lips for another drag.

"…Are you sober right now, love?" James asks, eyeing you carefully. You look at him bemusedly.

"You think I came to a party after our show and… didn't have a single drink?"

"Well…" he says carefully. You narrow your eyes and James grips your thigh a little tighter - a plead for you to hear him out. "You weren't exactly the life of the party tonight, lovely. You disappeared pretty quick. If you have been drinking, that means you've been doing it out here - alone, sitting very precariously on a very high balcony, with no one looking out for you." You've stopped looking at him, keeping your eyes trained on the expansive driveway out front of whoever's house this is. When you see your car pull up, you put out your cigarette easily on the railing before sliding off of it, letting James keep a hand firmly on you, sliding from your thigh up to your waist.

"I don't need a babysitter, James," you say bluntly, but you can't help but soften a bit at the wide, sad eyes he gives you, his bottom lip jutting out slightly. You wonder idly if he realizes he looks at you so often like he's a puppy you've just kicked. "I'll see you tomorrow for rehearsals," you offer gently before you slip away.

In the safety of the backseat of your car, tinted windows blocking out the gaze of the outside world, you let your head lean back against the seat, sighing and closing your eyes as you rub at your temples. The relief is short-lived, however, as the car door is pulled open and James slides into the seat next to you, grinning despite the glare you sent him.

"Didn't really think I'd let you go sit at the hotel sulking all night, did you?" He quips. You bristle.

"I don't sulk," you huff. His smile widens as the car pulls away.

"Sure you don't, sweetheart." He throws an arm around your shoulders and you let him, sighing as you lean against him, resting your head against his chest. "You wanna tell me what's going on?" He asks gently.

"Nothing," is your quick reply. He hums thoughtfully, running a hand through your hair gently.

"Wanna try again?" He's still gentle, a patience seeping from him into you that lulls you as you relax further against him.

"It's just a lot sometimes. I'm tired is all," you admit. James presses a kiss to the crown of your head and your heart does something funny in your chest.

"You're allowed to take a break every now and then, love," he offers. You tense.

"I don't need -"

"No, but you still can," he placates, smoothing his hand over the back of your head as he silently coaxes you into relaxing once more. "I know you don't need to. God knows you'll run on fumes forever and never say a thing about it. But you don't need to - not here, not with us."

James, in all his mother-hen nature, continues to reprimand you in that gentle, caring way of his all the way up to your hotel room, only stopping when you shut yourself in the bathroom and turn the tap on so that you can't hear him. By the time you come out in clothes that are decidedly much more comfortable than what you'd been wearing at the party, he's lounging in your bed and flipping idly through TV channels.

"Oh, sure, make yourself at home," you quip as you flop onto the bed next to him, leaning against the headboard. James grins in that beaming way that he's so fond of, turning the TV volume down to a low, background hum.

"Thanks, love." You scoff at his words.

"Are you planning on staying here all night?" You ask wearily. He pretends to think about it.

"What will you do if I leave?" You shrug, sliding further down in bed and crossing your arms. James opens his mouth to speak and you know he's going to say something about you sulking, so you make a point to wack him with a pillow before he can. He laughs good-naturedly about it, though, so you're not so sure what you've accomplished.

Fortunately, or rather unfortunately, you don't have time to ponder it further before your hotel room door is swinging open and Sirius is flouncing into the room, Remus trailing in after him. You sigh and look at Remus imploringly, but he only shrugs, leaning towards you to squeeze your shoulder in what you're sure is supposed to be comforting before he settles in the armchair next to the bed. Sirius, on the other hand, takes to flopping directly across the bottom of the bed, landing on James's legs and causing some sort of friendly tussle between the two of them.

"This is actually my hotel room, you know," you point out dryly. "How did you even get in here?"

"You gave Peter your spare key," Remus points out.

"Peter doesn't come in unannounced," you shoot back. Sirius and James stop whatever roughhousing they're caught up in so that Sirius can lean over and press a sweaty kiss to your cheek. You click your tongue in annoyance and hope it hides the way your heart flips.

"Cheer up, doll," Sirius says, unperturbed by your scowl. "What were you playing at, anyway? Leaving without telling any of us and thinking we wouldn't notice? Like we wouldn't miss our favourite drummer." You shoot James a look that says you shouldn't have told them and he smiles disarmingly.

"Just because I'm staying in tonight doesn't mean you all have to - and I'm your only drummer, Sirius, in case you've forgotten," you say icily. Sirius smiles, but it's more honest than you're used to, and he reaches across James to smooth a thumb over your cheek quickly before pulling back.

"Could never forget you, love. Not even if I tried." You stare at him, his tone heavier than normal, as Remus shifts and clears his throat.

"Anyway, dove… we just want to make sure you're alright, yea?" He says, and you exhale a breath you didn't know you were holding as the tension dissipates. 

"Everything's fine," you say stubbornly. "I just didn't really feel like being there tonight."

"Well, we can see that," James chimes in. "But you always go to these things. You -"

"I know, I know, ok? I won't - it won't happen like that again, all right?" You huff. "I won't leave like that."

"No, see, I'm not sure you're understanding what Jamie's saying, love," Sirius says, the softness in his voice making your heart drop. It takes a lot for Sirius to be gentle, and he only does it when he thinks he really needs it. "What we're saying is that you don't have to. Pete never goes to the parties - we haven't kicked him out of the band yet, have we?"

"But that's different," you sigh, sitting up straighter. "Pete and I… are different kinds of performers. You know that." Remus leans forward in his chair to put a hand on your knee and you will yourself not to flinch at the contact, not to shy away from the kindness in his eyes that you know he reserves for the people he really loves.

"You don't have to perform here, love," Remus says gently. "You don't have to do that. Not here, not when it's just us." Your bottom lip trembles and you bunch the covers of the bed in your hands.

"Sometimes I think, for you lot, this life is fun… and for me, it's still work. I just can't make myself see it the way you guys do."

"But that's what we're here for," James offers, his voice kind. "Let us help you out. We decided to do this together for a reason, right? You decided to stick with us for a reason."

"I… I did, yea," you say.

"Yea," Sirius repeats. "So let us be here, alright?" Remus rubs his thumb across your knee as the other two look at you expectantly. You smile, a terse, small sort of thing - but it works nonetheless.

"Alright," you sigh. "Together, then."

[reysdriver]

Exit Stage Right | R.L

You and your daughter miss Remus while he's performing for a stadium of fans, so much that you have to see him before the concert is over — dad!rockstar!remus x mom!reader fluff

warnings: a little angsty if you squint rlly hard, but nothing else

words: 2.4k

a/n: I promised rockstar!remus a while ago, but I've been to 2 concerts in the last 2 weeks, which just so happens to be finals season, so I've been simultaneously busy as hell and itching to write this. I hope you like how it turned out!

Your daughter Olive was no stranger to loud noises. 

Remus had a room to practise drumming in your house, it’s normal to encounter a chaotic mess of fans and paparazzi when you left the house as a family, and she just about had the loudest uncles in the world. Though you tried to limit the amount of noise she took in, Olive’s little ears had definitely adapted to her hectic little life. 

But all that noise in her daily life was no match for a rock concert in a sold-out stadium. Those decibel levels would for sure be far too high for her little ears to handle.

It wasn’t as easy of a decision on what you should do with her tonight, though. You were getting cabin fever with all the identical hotel rooms you’ve been living in while The Marauders were on their tour, and you suspected Olive was in the same boat. 

So, you decided to go back to the old days when the band first started going on long tours, when you would stay in the dressing room for the length of the performance. You and Remus figured it would be soundproof enough backstage, but you still insisted on pulling out the baby headphones you had bought just in case before she was even born. You were only planning on using them if it got especially loud backstage, yet you tried them on anyway. 

They were massive on her, but they kept her safe and happy. Plus, she was pretty damn adorable with them on—not that she wasn’t all the time, but definitely cuter than normal with those giant headphones. 

Waiting for the show to start, Remus bounced Olive on his lap while you watched the rest of the guys run through their current individual pre-show rituals. 

It had been quite a while since you’ve been backstage with the band right before a show, and you honestly forgot how entertaining it was. 

James was trying to solve the same Rubik’s cube he’s been working on for years to warm up his fingers, Peter was doing the daily crossword in the local newspaper, and Sirius was trying to multitask by doing his vocal warmups and his makeup at the same time. 

It was really a terrible combination of tasks, as Sirius kept on messing up his eyeliner and then trying to suppress his favourite swear words for your daughter’s sake. 

You wanted to tell him off, but it was really too fun to watch for you to intervene.

A minute or so after Sirius finally finished his look, the boys’ manager knocked on the dressing room door and reminded them that they have to go on stage soon. 

Remus thanked him, and the guys all started getting ready to go. He kept Olive in his arms for as long as he could, until it was just the three of you in the room after everyone was already headed to the stage. 

When he finally had to let her go, Remus made sure he gave you both a proper goodbye. 

“I’ll be back soon. Just over 2 hours, then we can all go home.” He kissed you softly, but deeply. He always does this as a way of saying goodbye, kissing you like he might never do it again, but he doesn’t want you to think about it. 

When his lips left yours and he slouched down to blow a raspberry on Olive’s tummy, you sighed quietly. “A hotel, not home.” 

He looked at you sympathetically as he collected his drumsticks from the table beside you and stored them in his back pocket for the time being. 

“Isn’t home anywhere where we’re all together?” He said, trying to lift your spirits. “But we’ll be home home soon enough. And I won’t be on tour again for a while, and we can be all together as much as we want.”

That did make you feel better. Even though you loved that Remus was living his dream with his best friends and giving you and Olive a great life, it did get stressful from time to time. 

Privacy violations by paparazzi and media outlets, insecurity that sometimes got the best of you on both sides of the relationship, and of course, The Marauders going on world tours that were fun, but still somewhat torture. They made it so you had to choose between leaving home for months, or being away from Remus—not that there was any difference between those two. 

You didn’t want to get emotional right when Remus had to go perform, so you smiled and reminded him that it was time for you to part ways for the evening. 

“They’re waiting for you out there.” 

A grin graced your husband’s face. “They can wait a little longer.” 

“They paid to see you.” You reminded him. 

“And I'll personally refund all of them if I don't go out.” 

“Then we'll be out of money, and we'll both have to get new jobs and we'll never have any time with just the three of us.”

Remus pretended to think over your point for a second. “You’re right. I guess I have to go out and perform, then.”

“Put on a good show, honey. We'll see you soon.” 

While saying goodbye to him, you raised Olive’s arm so you could wave at Remus for her as he walked out of the dressing room. Her face was already forming a pout when she watched her dad leave to go do his job, but you wouldn’t let that morph into anything more. 

You turned her around so you could both look at each other, then you pressed a kiss to her chubby cheek.

“None of that, sweetheart. We’ll see him again in no time.” 

Laying her down beside you on the couch, you reach down into the baby bag you never go anywhere without and pick out some of her favourite toys from their specific pocket; hopefully those will keep her distracted and happy. 

◆◇◆◇◆

The toys didn’t work as well as you thought they would. They kept Olive busy for about an hour, but she seemed to snap out of her happy baby daze out of nowhere. 

She started crying and nothing was working to calm her down. She wasn’t hungry, she didn’t need to be changed, and nothing you had brought for this very reason was working. 

You knew the only thing that could quell her upset was outside and on the stage, playing drums for a stadium of fans. But even though she and Remus both wished they could spend all hours of the day together, you just didn’t know how that could work.  

And then you remembered the headphones. 

The sound backstage hadn’t been that loud at all while The Marauders were playing, so you honestly hadn’t thought about them since you and Remus packed them before you left the hotel. 

But this could work. You could use them to help both you and Olive right now. So that’s what you did.

You dug through your bag and pulled the noise-cancelling headphones from the bottom of the bag, where they had sat untouched for the longest time. After picking them up with a tiny ‘aha’, you smiled at your daughter and told her that she would soon be seeing her dad. 

She had calmed down somewhat due to the mere mention of Remus, but she was still wailing in your arms. You bounced her lightly while you walked down the halls of the stadium. 

“It’s okay, honey.” You cooed at Olive, despite the fact that she couldn’t hear a thing. “You’re gonna tire yourself out and fall asleep before you even get to see Daddy. We don’t want that, do we?”

Although, maybe her crying herself to sleep wouldn’t be so bad. 

It still wasn’t an option in your mind. Your daughter wanted to see her dad, so over to Remus you’ll go. 

Once you got to the stage door, a burly security guard gave you a questioning look. You supposed he wasn’t used to a woman and a baby wanting to go into the wings during a rock concert. But he was just there to do his job, not judge, so he let you through when you showed him your ID. 

You kept checking Olive’s face to see her expressions and gauge if everything was too loud for her. Her look didn’t deviate from the bothered expression her face took on when you started walking with her, so you assumed the headphones were cancelling out the noise, just as they were made for. 

Nobody who was working backstage seemed to mind you being there, so you found an extra stool in a dark corner and pulled it so you could sit and watch the band. 

Based just on how Olive was moving in your arms, you knew she had spotted her dad behind the cymbals he was smashing across the stage. Pointing towards Remus, you whispered to her again even though she couldn’t hear you. “Look! Who’s that? Who’s over there?”

She seemed to be cheered up enough just from seeing Remus, so your hypothesis was proven correct. Things were shaping up to be a good night. 

You swayed and headbanged—as lightly as possible—since just because Olive couldn’t enjoy the loud music doesn’t mean you had to ignore it too. 

The current song ended, and James was talking to the crowd while Sirius drank some much-needed water after all that singing. While taking a swig, the two familiar faces in the wings of the stage caught his eye, and he just had to share what he was seeing with the drummer. 

He practically skipped over to Remus, who was also catching his breath from performing and pointed you out. Your husband’s eyes scanned the area until he found you, and his face immediately broke out into a smile—and so did your daughter’s. 

Back in the dressing room, you were hesitant if you should leave at all or if you should just wait out Olive’s tantrum, but the matching looks on your husband and daughter’s faces right now was proof that you made the right decision. 

Olive made grabby hands towards her dad across the stage, and Remus waved right back and blew a kiss in your direction. You weren’t quite sure if it was aimed at you or your little girl, but it made you blush either way. 

He pointed to the setlist taped to the ground beside him and hid his hand behind his bass drum so the audience wouldn’t see his gesture; he held up three fingers to let you know there would be three more songs until he could get up and give you two his full attention. You knew they would most definitely be doing an encore after they finished, but at least they could all have a small break after the main show.  

You nodded to show him you understood, but his attention was already grabbed back by James giving him the sign that it was time to get back into the music. Not even taking more than a second to prepare, Remus was back in the groove and started playing the next song on the list, effortlessly and perfectly. 

The last few songs of the main set were some of your favourites from the band’s discography, but you had to admit that you couldn’t enjoy them as much as you usually would. 

It was mainly because you were somewhat scared of an impending mood swing out of your daughter now that her father’s attention had left her, but also because these three songs were standing in between you and your husband like a brick wall right now. You just had to remind yourself that once they hit that last note and said their goodbyes to the crowd, that wall would be temporarily smashed once more. 

But now, they were at the end of the concert. The crowd was cheering like they just had the best night of their lives—you don’t doubt that they did—and Remus was throwing his sticks into the sea of hands desperate for a morsel of The Marauders. 

His rockstar persona was dropped the second those drumsticks left his hands, and he was rushing to the wings to be with you and Olive, a wide smile strung across his cheeks.

 He pulled you two out into the hall so the crowd’s noise could be in the background. He knew they would be cheering for an encore in a minute; as much as he loved that sound, he would rather hear you. 

“She was getting pretty fussy and I knew you were the only thing that would calm her down.” You explained to Remus before he could even ask. 

You were afraid he would be upset with you bringing her outside of the dressing room, but he didn’t seem fazed at all. He gently took Olive from your arms and cooed over her. 

“You missed me so much you dragged your mum out here so you could see me, huh?” Remus asked her. “You know I missed you too, princess. Both of you.”

“Yeah? Maybe you should get the guys to shorten the setlist so you aren’t away from us for too long, then.”

He didn’t respond, but you know that he had brought up the idea of shorter tours to the others now that he and James were both fathers. 

You watched lovingly as Remus kept moving Olive’s hand away from the glitter on his face that she was so desirous to touch. You wished you all could stay in this moment forever, but the audience’s chants for an encore were getting louder and louder and you knew the scene in front of you couldn’t last much longer. 

Right on schedule, James strutted up and tapped Remus on the shoulder with a brand new pair of drumsticks. 

“We’ve gotta go back out there, mate. Time to part ways with your girls once again.”

Remus wouldn’t put up a fight. He handed Olive back to you and blew one more kiss at you two as a goodbye.

The doors opened and a cacophony of fan cheers hit your ears. It was a lot, but it just reminded you that all those people were waiting for your husband, so you could wait a few more minutes. 

Just two final songs, then you could all go home.

[ddejavvu]

multiverse monday with rockstar!marauders showing up at their gf's volleyball game and ignoring all the attention they're getting bc theyre only there to support their girl??

today is multiverse monday! send me an au you can think of :)

--

"That's very nice," Sirius nods, a large, vapid smile plastered over his face as his eyes wander over her shoulder, "And- and what's your favorite so- oh, that's my girl!"

The fan he's speaking to glances back to see you high-five your teammate, and Remus's eyes lock onto your shorts where they lay against your thighs. They realize that they're standing in front of Sirius's view, shuffling back to their side of the bench without another word.

Remus feels someone's eyes on him and when he takes a swig of his water bottle, he notices someone staring at him from a few rows down. They pale at being discovered, but he sends them a kind smile, turning back just in time to see you assist in sending the ball sailing over the net and flying just out of reach of one of the opposing team members. They're all out of their seat in seconds, and Sirius lets out a whoop that he's sure deafens the girl beside him.

James's phone is held precariously as he films, trying to keep the camera steady as he lowers himself back into his seat. He's switching between glancing up at you and at your picture on his screen, the smile on his face akin to a proud parent.

"Send that to me," James elbows him, nearly knocking him off-balance.

Remus swats at the back of his head, scoffing and making sure to speak loud enough for the phone to pick up, "Fuckin' twat."

[maraudersmyloves]

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆｡ﾟ. ───

Pairing: James Potter x rockstar!reader

Warnings: The reader is a celebrity flirting with a fan so some power dynamic stuff

Word count: 1.3 k

Disclaimer 1: Everything on this Blog is fiction!!!

Songs in this: Honey (are u coming?) by Maneskin

"Oh God". :☆｡ﾟ. ───

Previous part

You don't think you'll ever get used to the feeling that washes over you the hour before going on stage. It's a weird mix of calm and chaos that's so very distinct to only this Situation. It's doing last sound and outfit checks while panicking trying to find your eyeliner because you all insisted on doing your own make-up and hair. It's smoking a blunt while Dorcas is running around searching for a sticker she wants to put on her microphone before the show. It's hearing the fans get louder in front of the stage and imagining what kind of signs they'll have prepared while trying to get Regulus' earring in. It's Evan and Barty screaming at each other because Evan is sure Barty stole his drumsticks while Pandora and Dorcas try to convince him to just use different ones.

But even that doesn't compare to the last moments before entering the stage. It's eerily quiet. Yes, you can hear the fans screaming but the voices really just fade into each other to form a big white noise machine. You look around to make sure everyone is in their positions while adjusting the height of your micro. Evan on the drums, Barty on the Bass, Dorcas, and Regulus on the guitar, and Pandora standing in front of her keyboard.

In these last moments, you like to focus on one thing and study it to calm yourself. Today it's the microphones. Your's is silver and bedazzled and the only one that's easily removable from its stand since you walk around the most (apart from Barty). On the bottom of it is a little pink heart doodle you drew on the day of the Emeralds' first big concert. Pandora's is light blue with a self made 3D butterfly on it. She made it about a month ago and very proudly showed it off at your next show. Barty and Regulus don't have one, Regulus because he doesn't really like to sing and only does so in about two songs, and Barty because he couldn't keep still and just always sang into others micros anyway. Dorcas has a basic black one or that's what it would be if she didn't slap any stickers she can find on it. The first layer of stickers isn't even visible anymore. Evan is the only one with a headset because leaning out to get to the microphone while playing the drums is too annoying for him.

Through their earpieces, the countdown starts and everything seems to slow down. You can feel the goosebumps overcome your skin and you have to shake yourself once to calm down.

Evan and Pandora sing the first lines before the curtain falls down but you can hear the screams getting louder and a smile tugs at your lip.

"Honey, are you coming?"

Evan's loud scream in unison with the drop of the curtain makes something click and all of a sudden everything is clear. You can see the first few rows and like always you start to scan the audience for someone cute while the guitars are playing. And wouldn't you guess, there he is. Front row and staring at you in awe.

He's cute. Probably about 6'2 with a big muscly figure and messy dark curls. His eyes are like honey and you can't help but return his stare. He smiles like the sun and you know it's over. You feel the need to write a love song right this second but the current song will help too. It's a fun and flirty song mostly written by Dorcas and Barty and you can't help but hold eye contact while singing.

/I know a place downtown, babe, if you wanna go/

You're a bit too breathless for you're liking. Sure there's a hot guy in your audience but that's really not that big of a deal. You see hot people all the time. You worked with models for a few shows, god dammit

Dorcas takes over for a while which might be your saving grace as it allows you to take a deep breath and remind yourself to just flirt, have fun, and don't start anything serious. He's a fan after all.

You wrap both hands around your micro while and sing while looking the hot stranger up and down.

/And if it sounds good for you, baby, just say the word/

/You will li-i-i-i-i-ike it/

You run your hands down your body suggestively, take the micro out of the stand, and walk closer to the edge of the stage finally tearing your eyes off the guy to look at the mass of people in front of you.

You often perform this big but it's still so incredible. You don't think you'll ever get used to the fact that this many people enjoy your music.

/It's five AM/

/We feel so good, it's almost frightening/

You lean down to look at the hot guy again and startle when you realize how close you are. You can see every detail of his face, the little hazel freckles that are splattered across his iris, the beauty mark on his chin, and the little dimples

/I'm made for you, we can't deny it/

You wink at him and smirk when you can see his Adams apple bob down from swallowing.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆｡ﾟ. ───

James has never been more overwhelmed and confused in his life. He came here planning to spy on his best mate's brother, who from what Sirius told him plays the guitar, he hasn't been able to confirm that yet though because he cannot tear his eyes away from the lead singer. When you made eye contact the first time he could've sworn he died but that could've been a coincidence, stars look at their fans. That's normal.

When you held eye contact while singing several lines and looked him up and down he had to stop himself from fainting.

Then you came towards him and leaned down to look at him up close. And that was it. He is in love. Now, this might be a bit much seeing as he's never spoken to you but then he was never known for his ability to take things slow.

/It's not a one night stand if it turns into two/

Because this stunning girl is looking at him while singing about one-night stands with a spark in her eye as if she wants to fuck him right then and there.

/Oh, I li-i-i-i-i-ike it/

Your voice is a little breathy as you sink down on your knees and he has to take a second to cool himself down. This causes him to finally look at his best mate next to him who is staring at the black haired guitar player. They do look very alike and judging from the look on Pads face this is very hard for him. They both have that sharp bone structure with startling light eyes and black curly hair.

James wants to kick himself for not even thinking about that but he can't when he can see you look at him from the corner of his eyes. It's like his eyes are automatically pulled to you.

/Honey, are you coming?/

it's a loud scream and the music abruptly stops, getting replaced by the booming sound of applause.

You let out a breathless laugh at the sound of this incredibly loud applause and take a moment to close your eyes and let this feeling soke in. You turn around to look at your other band members and are met with a unison look of amazement. This is the last show of the tour and you already kind of miss this.

Then as if on clock word without some sort of sign you all scream, "Hello London!"

[sumsumstrashbin]

𝐨𝐟𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐫𝐝 ~ 𝐬𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐮𝐬 𝐛𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 ✧

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬: 𝟗𝟓𝟎

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: 𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐫𝐞 𝐚 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐫, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐫𝐞 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐢𝐞𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐮𝐬 𝐛𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐤, 𝐚𝐧 𝐞𝐱𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐥𝐲 𝐟𝐥𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐲 𝐛𝐚𝐬𝐬 𝐠𝐮𝐢𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐭.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐨𝐟𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝, 𝐬𝐦𝐨𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐚 𝐛𝐢𝐭 𝐬𝐮𝐠𝐠𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐞𝐧𝐝?

𝐚/𝐧: 𝐬𝐨 𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐩𝐞𝐨𝐩𝐥𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐫𝐨𝐜𝐤𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫 𝐬𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐮𝐬 𝐬𝐨 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐰𝐞 𝐚𝐫𝐞

─────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───────

The venue was packed to the brim with fans waiting to enter and watch the battle of their favourite bands. You had taken a reserved spot at the back of the building, giving you easy access to bypass the crowd. You made your way inside through the back door, winding through swarms of musicians and crew members hurriedly preparing for their time to shine on stage. Your eyes scanned the room, looking for the subject of tonight’s interview: Sirius Black.

You eventually spotted the door you were looking for, labelled with the band’s name. You knocked without hesitation, waiting patiently for someone to answer the door. 

“Who is it?” A man inside shouted.

“Y/n L/n!” You answered back, crossing your arms.

You heard hurried footsteps thumping towards the door before it swung open, revealing the very man you were looking for. He leaned on the door frame, a cigarette hanging between his lips. He plucked it out of his mouth, leaning his head back to blow the smoke upwards.

“To what do I owe the pleasure of Miss L/n herself?” He spoke, a cocky smirk spreading across his lips.

“Did your manager not let you know that he had scheduled an interview for you?” You questioned, stepping past him and entering the dressing room.

“My manager? Oh, that guy. We fired him weeks ago.”

“Oh. Well we scheduled it last month, and I paid for this, so.” You stated, pulling your notepad and tape recorder out of your bag.

He shut the door, following you inside. “You paid to talk to me? Well, I’m honoured.”

“It’s my job. And you’re hot shit right now. Anyone would be stupid to pass up an opportunity like this.” You settled on one of the leather couches, setting your tape recorder down on the coffee table next to an ashtray full of extinguished cigarettes.

Sirius grinned with pride, taking the seat directly across from you. “I guess I am pretty hot. So are you.”

“That’s not what I meant.” You defended, flipping your notepad open to an empty page.

“But it’s what I meant.” He took another drag from his cigarette, this time not bothering to blow it away from your face. From the look on his face, it seemed like pushing your buttons was bringing him great pleasure. After a moment, he continued. “Alright, I’ll play nicely. Go ahead and ask your little questions.”

You nodded, clearing your throat and starting the recording. “As you know, I’ve already interviewed your bandmates before, so today’s questions will really focus on you. My first question is about the latest album you guys put out. What was the inspiration behind it?”

Sirius leaned back in his seat, resting an arm on the back of the sofa. “I mean, at first we were just fucking around, Writing random shit, as you can probably tell. Some of the songs were purely nonsense. Later in the album is when the lyrics actually mean something. It’s really just about life. Ups and downs, highs and lows. Things that we’ve experienced in our lives, things that we want out of life. We did a lot of collaborating on the lyrics for this one. Usually Remus and I take the lead with the songwriting.”

You jotted down his response, nodding along with his words. “What song would you say is your favourite on the album, and why?”

“If I had to pick, I love Midnight Melody. It literally came to me one night while I was sleeping, and I woke up and wrote it right away. It’s really about reminiscing on past relationships, which is pretty obvious. I’m not the best at hiding messages between the lines, so they’re pretty blatant.”

You continued to conduct the interview, asking him more about what he has planned for the future and other things about his music. Towards the end of the interview, he had succeeded in loosening you up, even sharing a laugh with you a few times.

“You’ve got quite the reputation, Sirius. What’s the wildest thing you’ve done?” You questioned, leaning in with anticipation.

Sirius chuckled, also leaning forward to lock eyes with you. “Oh, darling, you don’t want to know. I’m sure you know that some stories are better left untold.” His voice was low yet confident, sending chills down your spine. 

“Come on, Sirius. I’m sure everyone is dying to know.” You responded with a sly smile, hoping that he’d give in.

He shook his head, putting his cigarette out in the crystal ashtray between the two of you. “That’s all you’ll get out of me for today, Y/n. If you want more information, you’ll have to come see me after the show. Without the recorder.”

The tension in the air was suffocating, and his fixated gaze on you was making it hard to say no. Especially when he kept glancing down at your lips as he awaited your answer.

“I might just take you up on that offer.” You spoke after a moment, shutting off the recorder.

His grin widened as he watched you pack your things into your bag, heading for the door. He caught your wrist, drawing you back to him. “I’ll be waiting for you, Y/n. Right here, after the show.”

In the moment the interview felt so far behind you, as if it was a distant memory. Right now, all you could focus on was the way he was looking down at you, a glint of lust in his eyes.

“I’ll be here. Just make sure your bandmates aren't.” 

“Oh, I’ll make sure of it, sweetheart. And look.” He let go of your wrist, gesturing to the doorknob. “Lucky for us, the door locks.”

─────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───────

[remuslovebot]

𝐀𝐫𝐚𝐛𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐚 | 𝐑.𝐋

summary : Remus writes a song about you. Based off of Arabella by The Arctic Monkeys. You and him are just sitting in his bedroom one night and he has his guitar and note book out. You just blissfully admire his genius.

warnings : tooth rotting fluff :) arabella acoustic??

pairing : leadsinger! Remus Lupin x fem! reader

a/n ： lead singer! Remus is my new obsession and won’t shut up about it. Please send requests <3

The night air was blowing softly through the window, as the only light in the room was a lamp on Remus’ bedside table. You were sitting at the edge of the bed, admiring the way he practiced at his guitar. He was mainly just playing around with cords, focused on creating something. He had this one melody stuck in his head and he needed to practice it.

Remus’ brows furrowed trying to articulate the sound in his head on to paper, but most importantly into the instrument in his hands.

“Whatcha working on?” You asked curiously. Your pink baby doll night gown brushing against the soft sheets as you moved next to you boyfriend.

“A song,” he said simply, then adding. “About you,” he smiled softly, a smirk playing on his lips.

You’re breath hitched, “you’re writing something about me?” You asked, like that was somehow unbelievable.

But Remus was head over heels for you. He felt like he needed you around all the time. You needed him too.

“Yeah, it’s rough but I have some lyrics written down.” He said, showing you the notebook. The pages were crinkled and there was no lack of coffee staines.

“She’s got a seventies head, but she’s a modern lover,” you read from the notebook. You blushed, liking the way Remus though about you.

You kept reading, “And her lips are like the galaxies edge.” You passed the notebook back and smiled.

“This is about me?” You asked, surprised. You couldn’t believe it. Remus smiled and nodded, leaning into you.

“Yes it’s about you. It’s all true too,” he said, looking at your eyes and then at your lips. You blushed, his scent of chocolate and cigarettes becoming intoxicating. “It’s about when we first met,” Remus further explained. “You we’re so enchanting I knew I just had to know who you were.”

You and Remus had met at a party his hand was throwing after a concert. Your friends had dragged you along, because they were obsessed with the new rock band in the area.

Listening to their music, you became a fan of there’s. Now you were dating their guitarist and lead singer.

A memory of you and him kissing in a closet at the party made you blush. Originally, the two of you just wanted to get away from the large crowd of people.

“I love it so far. Does it have a name?” You asked, leaning in close to him with a soft smirk.

“The song will be named after you my love,” he said matter of factly. Then he pulled you into a kiss, it was both equal parts soft and passionate. Your lips captures in his perfectly.

“I really was enchanted to meet you,” he said, pulling away and brushing hair away from your face.

You couldn’t get the smile out of your mouth. “You’re too good for me Remus. I don’t deserve you,” you leaned into his touch.

“You deserve the world. You deserve a song,” Remus said, leaning in to kiss you again. You kissed back, pulling him close to you.

You couldn’t wait until the song was finished and to hear it played at one of the Marauders concerts.

a/n: I had a blast writing this!! sorry if it’s short tho. thank you for all the support in recent days love ya <3

[cosmal]

phoebe bridgers — send me a headcanon or a prompt + a character, and i’ll write you a blurb!

what abouttt rockstar!remus x shy!reader omg. maybe r being backstage at one of his concerts and giving him good luck kisses or something. or just whatever u want, you always have the best ideas anyway <3

a kiss

summary — you ask remus for a kiss before he goes on stage.

content — remus lupin x fem!reader, rockstar!remus, shy!reader

note — mal this was such a cute idea i love u

You sit one one of the many big speakers backstage, legs dangling over the edge, waiting for Remus to finish his conversation with his manager.

Having a boyfriend who is constantly busy, with sound checks and press junkets, song writing and concerts, it’s hard to see him when you want. Sometimes it feels terrible to want things.

Because Remus is always busy. He’s hardworking and never stops and you really admire him for it. You hate to interrupt because most of the time it’s for things you don’t really need.

Remus, can I have a hug? Remus, do you want to watch a movie on the couch tonight?

You sit with your hands in your lap, fiddling with the rings around your fingers. You spin them to distract yourself. There’s an ache in your chest that you feel like can only be soothed by Remus. You bite your tongue to hold back the urge to talk to him when he seems busy. It feels selfish and you don’t want to be.

Remus cuts his conversation short with his manager and makes his way over to you. The feeling in your chest creeps up your throat with bubbling excitement. He’s your boyfriend, he gives you every drop of attention when he can — which is always. But when he gives it to you when you feel like you don’t deserve it, it makes you feel warm.

“Hey, sweetheart,” he murmurs when he reaches you. It’s quiet and there’s thousands of fans past the wall behind you. You’re still tuned to every sound he makes.

“Hey, Remus,” you say back. You’re more than pleased when he takes your hands into his. You don’t show it though. You look solemn and Remus worries for you. Your glumness morphs into guilt when you remember you should be happy for him. Because you are — you’re ecstatic.

You still feel out of your depth whenever you’re in this situation. Behind a curtain, listening to piercing screams of your boyfriends and his band mates names. A thrumming that beats quieter than your heart most of the time.

“Are you okay?” Remus leans forward until your linked hands press into your bare legs. A heavy weight that feels necessary.

“Yeah,” you say. Then, when his fingers unfurl to press firmly into the dough of your thighs, you say, “Just feeling off today.”

He leans forward to press a kiss on the top of your nose. Then your cheek and behind your ear. Remus is a rockstar. A rockstar with a kissing pattern that he knows will have you melting.

“Yeah?” he hums into the skin below your ear. He tries to kiss away the beginnings of your goosebumps. He only makes them worse. “You should tell me these things, dove.”

You should. And you do — most of the time. When you’re in the bath together, when he makes you sit and eat dinner at your tiny two-seater table, or on his tour bus. You won’t get into how you think he likes to corner you in tiny settings and make sure you’re okay. He worries you won’t tell him if he doesn’t. But he always makes time for it.

“Not right now,” you dismiss him with a shake of your head.

“Yes, right now,” he says. Half fond, half too serious.

“You’re about to go on.” You look over his shoulder to find James sitting by the snacks table, a pair of drumsticks tapping against his jean clad thigh. You suspect Sirius is around somewhere stressing out.

“They’ll wait,” he says a little too smugly. You roll your eyes.

“Remus,” you chide.

“No, I’m serious, honey,” you might die if he keeps it up with the pet names, “what’s up?”

You lean into his chest until the top of your head hides your face. You huff and you feel a small laugh vibrate up his chest.

“If you don’t tell me, I’m gonna play so shit out there because I’m worrying about you,” he says. You know he doesn’t mean it. It still makes you feel awful. You lean more of your weight into him.

“Stop,” you argue.

“I’m serious—“

“No, you’re not.”

He hugs your head closer to stable you. “I’m not.”

Remus let’s you sit up until he can see your face. You worry he might hold you warm face in his hands. When he’s doesn’t, you’re only mildly relieved. You don’t want to be teased about how flustered he can make you. You also want him to squeeze your cheeks.

“Can I have a kiss?”

Remus startles. “Of course.”

You get your way when he cups your face in his hands to lean down to kiss you. His lips soft and a tiny bit unsure when he does it. You grip his wrists with shaky hands and hold him closer. Only gasping into his open mouth when he pulls away.

His lips are a little wet when you open your eyes. You watch his pupils shrink back down and feel a tad amused. You feel your shy temperament dial back a bit. You know he loves you.

You smile. Remus mirrors it, though half as bright. “Is that what you wanted?”

Dazed, you blink, “What?”

He kisses you again, too short for you liking. He smiles more this time when you let out the tiniest hiccup like sound when he pulls away again. “Oh, my poor girl.”

You push him away, not as rough as you feel you should, “No,” you giggle. “No, stop it.”

“C’mere, let me kiss you again,” he laughs. You despise it. Well, you pretend to.

“No. Go play the guitar or whatever it is you do.”

You push him out with your arms, palms flat against his chest. Fingers tangled through his pretty silver chains.

“Whatever it is I do?!”

“Yeah.”

Remus turns when he hears James call his name. “Moony! C’mon!”

Remus pulls his guitar over his shoulder. Baby blue against his grey shirt. “You’re lucky,” he warns.

You push him like you aren’t sad to see him go. It never lasts long. Soon, you’ll be swelling with so much pride you won’t be able to move.

“When I come back, you’re getting it.” Remus finds it hard to pretend to threaten you. It’s worth it when you gasp, hand held to your chest.

“I’m terrified!”

Again, though this time it’s Sirius, “You’ll have all the time in the world to make out with Y/N tonight! Hurry the fuck up.” You watch him disappear behind the wall. The crowd rumbles with excitement.

“You better hurry, Moony,” you tease.

Remus leans forward to smack a kiss to your appled cheeks, turning to run off. He stops before the wall to look back to blow you a kiss. You catch it before he disappears. The crowd’s cheering grows tenfold.

[sp1rit-realm]

⋆°✩ LIPGLOSS ✩°⋆

⋆°✩ request ✩°⋆

⋆°✩ summary ✩°⋆ remus likes your lipgloss

⋆°✩ notes ✩° ⋆ 𖦹 rockstar!remus lupin 𖦹 remus being a doof 𖦹 reader on their flip phone

⋆°✩ word count ✩° ⋆ 𖦹 403

Remus seems to be inspecting his lips—they look dry, he decides. Then, he looks at you. You're on your flip phone, playing snake. You're chewing bubblegum.

Sirius jumps as you put the bubble between your teeth, making a loud: 'Pop!'

Your lips are shiny. They glitter nicely under the light. He'd even go as far as to say they're glossy. So very glossy. 

"What're you starin' at, cowboy?" You ask.

He stands up, making his way to you. "Can I have your lipgloss?" He ignores your question.

"What do you want it for?" But you still pull the tube out of your pocket and hand it to him.

"I wanted some," He squints, eyes focusing on your lips, "And I wanted to give you some 'cos your lips look a little dull." He opens the gloss and brings its applicator to your lips. He's applied too much, and your lips are glossed shut. Using all your might to pull apart your sticky lips, you go to scold him, "You've put on too much, Remus." It comes out as more of a whine.

"I told you, I want some, too."

"I don't understand what you mean," You put your hands on your hips. 

And then he's leaning in, looking at you with lustful eyes, "I want some," He repeats, dangerously close to your lips.

Only then do you understand what he means, now waiting for him to kiss you. And he does. It's messy, and you're getting gloss all around his mouth—not the best application, you think before he grabs your hips, moving you closer. "Is this cotton candy flavoured?" He mumbles against your lips. "Yes," You mumble back. He goes back to kissing you, and you can feel him smiling.

"Oh my God," James groans, "Can you hurry up, Moony? We've a whole crowd we're supposed to be playing for. Or did your girlfriend's stupid cotton candy lipgloss make you forget?"

"Lipgloss," He's still kissing you, "Made me forget," His words come out smushed and distorted. James smacks him upside the head.

Remus runs out on stage, the crowd cheers, and he grabs the microphone, saying, "Sorry for running late. I was busy putting on lipgloss. Do you all like it?" The cameras close up on his face, displaying his lips on the jumbotron. The crowd cheers again. "It's my girlfriend's." He smirks, happy knowing only three other people knew what he meant. 

thank you for reading, lovelies <3

mutuals:

@queerpumpkinnn @woahlifehitsyahuh @evergreenlover @ell0ra-br3kk3r @reysdriver @turvi @youre-so-lovely @y4ksh42 @imshiningjustforyou @onmyknees4lily @puppy-coded @angry-little-frog @starsval @saturnband @shefollowedthestars @doyouknowwhoyouare13 @dancinglikeaballerina @goodoldfashionedluvergirl @lovers-tunnel @likefolksong @zvdvdlvr @crushofdoves @cosmal @vampieteeth @bellathethirstybitch @basicallyjustmuggleremuslupin @bruisedboys @meredarling @maddipoof

[luveline]

I absolutely loved Rockstar!James introducing gf reader to the world and was wondering if you could do something similar for Rockstar!Sirius if inspo strikes? 🥰🥰🥰

thank you so much for the request! rockstar sirius showing you off on the red carpet ♡ fem!reader | 1.2k words

"Sirius!" someone calls, a microphone in hand. You watch the livestream with renewed interest. You'd known your boyfriend would be there, of course, and you'd known he was gonna talk to this specific interviewer hence your watching, but it's been a little while with no sign of him. 

"Hey," he says. "Hey, Shalon." 

The interviewer looks extremely charmed that he knows her name. You grin. He is extremely charming. 

"Sirius," Shalon says, smiling a perfect smile, white teeth and perfectly painted red lips, "We're thrilled to see you tonight! And so handsomely dressed."

"Thank you! Yeah, thanks so much. My stylist will weep tears of joy." 

She tells the truth – Sirius looks breathtakingly handsome, much more lovely than the quick photo he'd sent you a few hours ago pulling a sullen jib and titled 'I miss you. they don't brush my hair as nicely as you do :('.

Shalon crosses an arm across her tightly bodiced chest to hold the microphone a little closer to him. 

"Who are you wearing tonight?" she asks. 

"They drilled this into me tonight, so as much as I'd love to say my girl's perfume, I have to tell you that it's Christian Dior." 

She giggles. You can't blame her for her reaction, but you do feel a protective stab to your chest. Protective,  definitely not jealous. 

"Your girl's perfume! You know, I've been seeing stuff about this all over the Internet this week-"

"Have you?" 

She laughs. "I have. Pictures of you cuddling up to a girl behind the Point House arena. You wouldn't happen to know anything about this, would you?" 

You tense up. That had been your fault. You'd been tired and you'd been emotional, upset to be going home. You'd really tried to hold it in and for the most part you'd succeeded, but Sirius is more perceptive than you give him credit for, so he'd cornered you outside before the last show of the tour and had you confess. 

"I'm really going to miss you," you'd admitted. Three weeks had felt – still feels – like a long, long time apart. 

He'd wrapped you up in a hug and held you close, whispering reassurances and rubbing the breadth of your tense shoulders. Just the two of you in a quiet moment. 

Or so you'd thought. A pap had obviously spotted you and taken photos. There was even a short video showing the moment where you'd hugged him back and nuzzled your face into his neck. You can still remember the feeling you'd had at the time, the warmth of his skin and the soft tickling of his hair as it brushed your cheek. 

You can also distinctly remember the moment Sirius had called you the day after, seconds after you'd gotten off of your plane home. "It's okay," he'd said as soon as you answered, "everything is going to be fine, but we might have a problem." 

Sirius is supposed to fix the problem tonight. Though the photos are clearly him, the video is less evidential, and your face is hidden from view completely. If he refuses all claims of a girlfriend and shrugs it off, he might retain some privacy. 

You don't want to be in the limelight; you're not naive. A lot of people fancy themselves in love with your boyfriend. You're not eager to garner any fan's disdain. 

Still, the idea that he might say he has no clue what Shalon's talking about makes you feel sick. 

"Pictures?" he asks, dropping his chin just slightly toward his chest, eyes wide with bemusement. 

"And a video!" 

"A video! Do I look fit, or?" 

"I'm sure there's a thousand people watching tonight that would say you do… so, the photos are really you?" 

This is where he says No, they're not me. It must be some other, extremely good-looking fellow.

"Behind the Point House?" he asks. 

There's something in his voice that clues you in, moments before Shalon says, "That's right," and Sirius says, "Ohhhh. Yeah, that was me." 

Shalon's face is a picture. Genuine surprise. You spot yourself in the dark of your laptop screen and see her expression mirrored in your own. 

"And the woman you're-" 

"Cuddling with?" He grins. It's bravado, buffeted by a real affection. "That's my girlfriend." 

Your breath catches. 

Shalon rolls with the punches, to her credit. "She looks very well taken care of. You're aware that the hashtag 'I need him to hug me' trended for three days?"  

Sirius laughs, loud and unabashed. "While I'd love to brag I look after her, it's more like she looks after me. My friends over there-" he points toward a very overwhelmed Remus being shepherded by a much happier James, "they'll attest. I'm awful when she's not taking care of me." 

"The, uh, the video-" 

"Doesn't show her properly," he murmurs, looking down the length of his chest and pulling his phone that he's very much not supposed to have out of his pocket. 

He unlocks his phone and pulls up your text thread, of all things. "It's a real shame they didn't get her face. She's killer." 

He clicks on the photo you'd sent him this morning in response to his hairdressing woes. It's you, on the sofa. You're thanking every God there is to thank that you'd done your hair nicely before sending it to him, always wanting his compliments and always, always receiving them. Your face imitates his own, a little bit moody but with a smile that hints at a laugh. 

"I was sulking about what they've done to my hair tonight. You know what she said?" he asks Shalon. 

Sirius reads out your text, mock-wounded. "Suck it up, baby." 

He doesn't read out the text after, where you'd told him how nice he looked, and how you can't wait to see him tonight on the awards show. 

You text him out of desperation, worried he might scroll down and show the picture you'd sent him of the weird bruise on your leg. You don't think you could stand to have your foot shown on live television. 

Sirius, please stop!!! 

The live stream is a few seconds behind. He's midway through singing your praises as cryptically as he can when he must feel the vibration of your text. He looks down at the screen and grins. 

"Is that her?" Shalon asks knowingly. 

"She's asked me to stop."  

"Oh, you're in the doghouse now!" 

He grins like he absolutely doesn't think so and looks straight into the camera fondly. "I'm sorry, really." Then he shrugs. "How can you not show that off? I-" 

James appears suddenly. You know he's been sent to stop what spells a PR shake-up. "Hey, Shalon, how are you? You look beautiful tonight, I'm sure you know." 

"Babysitter's here," Shalon says.

You snort at how accurate she is and watch Sirius get literally dragged away from the interviewer and down the red carpet. 

Shalon turns to the camera gleefully. "I can't say I was expecting that!" 

"You and me both, sister," you mumble. You try to fight it, but your smile stretches ear to ear. 

Later in the night, Sirius sends you a covert photo of a furious Lily and a small text that just says, Love you. See you soon. 

[moonstruckme]

In a week-

Hear me out: Rockstar Poly!marauders and Rockstar!reader???? Like, maybe no one knew the marauders was dating reader till they performed together for an event?????

Thanks for requesting lovely!

join the party

rockstar poly!marauders x rockstar!reader ♡ 1k words

The tabloids had started speculating when too many of your tour dates lined up. It’s only natural that you’d end up spending some time together, in the same occupation and occupying the same spheres, so you were seen with each of the boys at various eateries, at afterparties, on the street. The only problem for journalists was, they couldn’t figure out which band member you were dating. 

They were clutching at straws. A picture of you grabbing Remus’ hand to pull him into a store, an interview wherein Sirius had complimented your new single, a zoomed-in video of James carrying four coffees back up to the hotel instead of three. The speculation was all over the place, scattered and nearly baseless. 

Not after tonight. It had been Lily, the Marauders’ manager, who’d had the idea to take this story by the reins. She’d pointed out that fans were only getting more obsessed with the question of which of the boys you were dating, and with both of you releasing new albums soon, it was as good a time as any to capitalize on that interest. Plus, if you did the big reveal before any magazine could figure it out, it’d be your concert that went viral, not their publication. “More press,” she’d said enticingly, “means more people learning your names and listening to your music.” 

You’d thought the boys would be the ones to have qualms. Remus wasn’t the type to enjoy making his private life public (it was more an unfortunate side-effect of his career than a draw) and James always talked about how keeping your relationship a secret made it feel less like they had to share you with everyone else, but in the end, they got on board with Lily’s scheme quickly. You all agreed that someone was going to figure you all out sooner or later, and if your romantic life was going to be broadcast, it may as well be on your own terms. 

Still, that doesn’t mean you’re not nervous. 

“Loosen up, angel,” James says, prodding at your foot with his as you lie on Remus’ chest, picking through his usually well-guarded stash of chocolate. “This is supposed to be fun, remember?” 

“It’s not the show I’m worried about,” you say, rubbing your socked foot along his mindlessly. “I’m excited to play with you guys, I just wish we could do that without everyone making assumptions.” 

Remus hums in agreement, but Sirius makes a derisive sound, turning to look at you from the mirror. His eyeliner is half done, making one eye seem big and dangerous and the other naked. 

“You two are being so dramatic,” he says. “Of course they’re gonna assume, and they’ll be right. That’s the point.” 

You sigh, tipping your head back onto Remus’ shoulder, and he runs his hand up and down your side commiseratively. 

“It’s going to be a great show.” James tries again to lift your foul mood. You try to look less dismal in return. “You and Sirius’ voices go so well together, the crowd will love it.”

“It’s true.” Sirius smirks at you through the mirror. “And later, we’ll go to the afterparty—”

“Do we really have to?” Remus asks.

James looks sympathetic, reaching forward to rub his calf consolingly. “‘Fraid so, love. Lily says the only way to control the narrative is to talk to people after the show. We don’t have to stay the whole time, but we’ll practically be on the clock.”

“Anyway,” Sirius goes on. “We’ll go to the afterparty, and everyone will tell us how cute we are together, and everyone north of the equator will want to be us and fuck us at the same time.” 

You can tell Remus has something to say about that, but before he can, Lily pops her head into the dressing room. “Guys, the opener is finishing up,” she says, eyes lingering on each of your faces assessingly. “Everyone ready?”

“Just a second…yeah,” Sirius says, finishing his perfectly messy eyeliner. “Ready.”

Lily nods before ducking back out, off to go coordinate light technicians or whatever she does in the rush before shows. James offers you and Remus a hand each, hauling you up. You lick your thumb, wiping a bit of chocolate from the side of Remus’ mouth, and he gives you a half-smile of thanks. 

“We got this,” you whisper to him, and he takes your hand, squeezing lightly. 

“I know we do, sweetheart.” 

Sirius is the only one talking as you all make your way to the side of the stage, the crowd cheering loudly as the opening act wraps up their set. 

“Hey.” A hand lands on your shoulder, and you turn to find James attached to it. He’s looking at you with more than the usual pre-show nerves, something more like worry. “Are you really upset about this? We don’t have to go through with it, it’s not too late to tell Lily it’s off.” 

Yes it is, but he’s a sweetheart for saying so. “No, I’m okay,” you promise, reaching up to squeeze his wrist reassuringly. The other band is exiting on the opposite side of the stage, the lights going out. You’re going to be going out there any minute. “I’m excited to perform with you guys, and…and I’m ready to be done with the sneaking around. I’m just nervous, I guess.” 

James slides his hand up from your shoulder to cup your face, your hand still clasped loosely around his wrist. He smooths his thumb over your cheek fondly, eyes gone soft under the faint glaze of adrenaline. “Don’t be, sweetheart. You’re going to do great, and we’ll all be up there together.” He stoops lower so only you can hear him. “Just between us, you and Sirius sound great together, but you can hit notes he never could. They’re gonna love you out there.” 

You grin, and Sirius turns around, eyeing the both of you. “I heard my name,” he says accusingly. “What’re we talking about?”

The lights come back on, and that’s your cue. “Nothing!” you chirp, grabbing his hand and dragging him towards the stage. “Let’s go.”

[hauntedwitch04]

You can call me Daddy

Rockstar! Remus Lupin x Reader

Words: about 1.8k words

Warnings: smutty remmy, sexy rockstar, dirty talk and remus fucking lupin that is alreadya a warning himself.

Author's note: I'm writing something like five fanfiction at the same time, but I had this idea and I couldn't not write this down. I love the idea if the Maraurders as a band (like I think they are preatty much the copy of the Maneskin that I LOVE so...) and I LOVE BASSIST REMUS, so here for you our sexy Moony

Requests are open I Ask

My masterlist

Join the Taglist

You still don't know how the with your friend managed to get into this party, but you know for sure that this is a night to remember.

Through some friends of hers, she managed to find out that there was going to be a birthday party of some super-rich celebrity at a mansion in Los Angeles, and after some research and figuring out where it was, we managed to get in, making believe that we were up-and-coming Versace models and that we had been invited to the party at the last minute and had not been put on the list. The guard looked at us carefully and then let us through, and you couldn't help but breathe a sigh of relief. As soon as you walked in you looked around and couldn't hold back your astonishment.

The mansion is beautiful, huge and full of lights and smoke machines that create a magical and surreal atmosphere. Music and people fill the room until you almost burst, but you can't help but move in time to the music as the alcohol flows through your veins. You down drink after drink, without realizing it, the important thing is to have a good time.You find yourself dancing back to back with actors or singing songs at the top of your lungs with important TV hosts, before you realize that all this crowd and the air heavy with smoke, sweat and alcohol is suffocating you, so you nod to your friend that you would go outside for a moment to get some air.

You walk over to the nearest French door, which overlooks a hidden part of the garden. As soon as you are outside, you lean against the wall and can't help but breathe a sigh of relief. You stay a few seconds in the silence of the night, taking advantage of the cold that seems to surround you after the incredible heat that the bodies inside that room were causing. You smile, thinking that at least here you can find a moment of peace, until you hear a voice.

"Did you run away too?" A boy asks, and you suddenly turn around and see him there, a little further away from you, also leaning against the wall, a cigarette between his lips. You can't really see his face, but you can tell he's a good-looking guy, tall and muscular as thin as he may look. He's wearing skinny jean pants, a Pink Floyd T-shirt, and a black leather jacket, with stupidly overdressed shoes.

"Yeah, the situation was becoming too suffocating." I shyly confess to the faceless boy.

"I understand you. I hate these stupid parties full of people, the situation always gets out of hand, and before long someone will get hurt, if it hasn't happened already." He complains.

"How come so if here?" You ask curiously, aided by the courage that alcohol brings.

"My friends dragged me along. If it were up to me, I would have spent this evening in a completely different way." He confesses, throwing his cigarette to the ground after taking one last drag. The smoke comes sensually out of his mouth, and you can't help but tighten your legs at that gesture, praying that he hasn't noticed.

"And how would you have spent the evening?" You whisper in a sensual tone, not knowing where all that brazenness really came from. You're not usually such a straightforward girl, especially when it comes to flirting with strangers.

"Well sweetheart, I would for example have a couple of ideas on how to spend a night with you, but they are too vulgar for an angel like you." He says moving closer, but still remaining in the half-light. I feel his breath close to my face and can't help but hold back a groan at the impure things those fingers could do on me.

"Do you really think I am an angel?" You ask as you move closer in turn, so close that your lips are almost touching. For a moment you think about how impossibly beautiful this situation is, a few hours earlier you were lying on the couch at your house eating chips and watching your favorite show and now you're at a party full of celebrities and now you're flirting with a guy definitely out of your range, and he's playing along with you. Life is truly full of surprises.

"Oh no you darling look like the purest of all angels, and I love girls who look innocent but are real demons in bed." He continues, moving closer , kissing your neck gently, leaving you the time and space to say no, but you don't want to say no, you want him and you want nothing more than to drag him to the nearest surface to fuck until you are voiceless with all the moans you will emit.

"Well I could always give you a demonstration." You answer as he continues his attack on your neck, and you run your hands through his disheveled hair.

"How can I say no to such a beautiful girl." He says pulling away from you. "But not here honey, there are too many people who would hear you shout my name, and that is a pleasure that is granted only to me." He continues, leading you toward the exit. In a sobering moment you manage to remember your friend and tell him you were going inside to warn her. He nods and tells you he would be waiting for you by the gate. Quickly you go inside and immediately find your friend intent on making out with a fairly tall blond girl. You quickly approach her and tell her that you would not be going home with her this evening. She looks at you and smiles before yelling at you to be careful and use a condom, but you are already far away and in response you raise your middle finger at her.

You see him at the gate on a blazing black motorcycle with a helmet for you in his hand. You put it on and cling to him as you get on the bike, as your excitement about what is about to happen rises and you can't help but get wet.

A few minutes pass before we find ourselves in front of the doors of a huge building. Quickly he gets out of the vehicle, having parked there in front, and we run to the entrance. The boy, still wearing his helmet, waves to the doorman, who waves back, and quickly we get on the first elevator we see. He crushes the twenty-first floor as you take off your helmet and realize something.

"My name is Y/N." You say confidently, looking at his face still covered by the black helmet. "I never told you my name." You go on laughing.

"You don't know mine either." He counter laughs as well, patting my arm, and you can't help but laugh at the situation.

"Of course fate is strange I went from lying on my couch in my pajamas to getting drunk with my friend to fucking a stranger." You say as you move closer to him, kissing him on the neck, gripped by a jolt of courage.

"And do you regret it?" He asks with a half groan.

"Not by a single second." You whisper, continuing to leave marks on his neck, as he had done to you at the party.

As soon as the elevator stops you realize you are already in his apartment. You quickly get out and he drags you toward the bedroom, taking off his helmet and throwing yours on the couch in the hall you pass as well. As soon as you reach the room his lips glue themselves to yours and a power struggle begins between the two of you. Clothes fall off like autumn leaves and suddenly you both find yourselves naked lying on the soft sheets of the bed.

"Remus, my name is Remus." He says panting as he kisses your breasts, reaching down. "But you can call me Daddy, angel." At those words you can't help but let out another moan, which you would be ashamed of if you were sober enough, but your mind is too clouded with pleasure.

His lips find the most delicate spot on your body and attack it like a child sucking on a lollipop, and the moans that seemed too loud before seem like whispers compared to those coming from your lips now. His fingers enter your vagina not too gently, and instinctively you cling to his hair, pushing his face between your legs.

"I knew that behind that angel look was the most beautiful demon." He says, returning to kiss your lips after making you orgasm, with still your taste on his lips. "What do you want honey, you have to tell me or I don't know how to help you."

"I want you, all of you." You say panting, while still recovering from the pleasure you just received. " I want you to fuck me so hard I can't walk straight tomorrow."

"Your every wish is an order princess." He says in a whisper before entering me with his huge cock. The pleasure you feel right now, you thought did not exist.

You continue fucking until dawn, rolling up on yourself and in the blankets, orgasm after orgasm. You fall asleep at sunrise in the arms of the unknown boy.

You wake up after a few hours, alone in bed, hearing the sound of a shower running in the next room, realizing that your lover has gone to take a shower. Still sleepy and sore from all that sex you reach for your phone in your jacket pocket and see thirty missed calls from your friend and at least fifty texts always from her.

Immediately you call her, thinking something serious has happened, but as soon as the phone stops ringing you hear her screaming in your ear.

"Do you realize what happened last night?!?!" She shouts like a squawking hen.

"I thought you didn't mind, you said you were okay with it." Confused reply.

"I didn't resent it, but do you realize who you slept with?"

"With...Remus?" You say, unconvinced by your answer.

"Yeah with Remus freaking Lupin! The fucking bassist of the Maraurders!" Your friend says excitedly, but you're already no longer listening as she goes on to tell how she found out, all your mind can process are just two words: oh fuck.

[ageofstarkey]

untitled snippet: band!marauders x new-to-the-band!reader

summary: You're James Potter's little sister and he asks you to join his band. Remus Lupin, the Marauders’ moody bassist, makes you regret agreeing.

content: bassist remus x singer/guitarist reader, potter!reader, "enemies" to lovers, mature content (alcohol, tobacco, and drug use, swearing, etc…)

note: hi so i've never posted any of my writing on here, but i recently started fleshing out this marauders band au in my free time, so i wanted to post a snippet to see if anyone like...actually would be interested in reading it if i were to write a Proper Fic™️

wc: 0.8k ish

✩✩✩✩✩

On one particularly late night, after a particularly infuriating comment from Remus, you snap. You stand up before he’s even finished speaking, letting your banged up acoustic clatter unceremoniously to the floor. Truth be told – you hardly even processed what he said, so irritated by the goddamn way he said it.

“Y’know what?” You’re overtired and practically seething, a half-smoked cigarette trembling between your fingers. “I’m fucking done. With all of this.” You toss your cigarette into the over-stuffed ashtray on the table, paying no mind to the way it bounces and falls, still smouldering, to the wooden surface below. “And honestly? It’s a real goddamn shame because I think you guys have something special. And I think we’d be really damn good together if he -” You jab a shaking finger towards Remus, who looked rather unmoved. “- wasn’t so fucking self-absorbed.”

James tries to defuse the situation, but you’re storming out of the room before he can finish a sentence, intently ignoring him on your way to the front door. You slam it harder than you mean to, shakily inhaling as you step into the chilly midnight air. With a trembling hand, you reach for the cigarettes in your pocket, sliding one hastily from the box. You feel the familiar sting of tears in your eyes, silently berating yourself for being so sensitive as they roll down your reddened cheeks.

Minutes have passed, and you’re halfway through your second fag when you hear the familiar creak of the front door opening behind you. With a soft sniff, you wipe hastily at the lingering tears on your cheeks. You look quickly over your shoulder, hoping for James and sighing quietly when you see Remus standing just beyond the doorframe. His hands are tucked coolly into the pockets of his jeans, and he stares at you unflinchingly.

You turn back around, taking a long drag from your cigarette before stubbing it out on the damp concrete. “If you’ve come out here to offer your two cents on my lyrics, I’m really not interested.” Your voice is clipped and steady when you speak, despite how badly you want to scream and shout in his stupid arrogant face.

His converse scuff lazily against the ground as he takes a few careful steps towards you. Your eyes remain intently trained on your boots, back firmly facing Remus and the house. “I didn’t come out here to talk about your songs, Y/N.” His voice is soft and your heart pangs strangely in your chest. You don’t say a word. He takes two more steps. “Would you believe me if I said I wanted to apologize?”

You scuff the toe of your boot against the ground with a scoff. “Not really.”

“I didn’t think so.” Remus laughs softly, and you swear you can hear the smirk on his face. It’s infuriating how amusing he seems to find the whole situation. He takes another step, and suddenly you can feel his tall figure looming behind you. You want to turn around – you want to say something, but you can’t bring yourself to move a muscle. “Whether you believe me or not, I am sorry. I’ve been a proper arse and…” He trails off, evidently searching for his next words. Your heart thumps anxiously in the silence. “You haven’t done anything to deserve it. So I’m sorry.”

His words are followed by a long stretch of silence where neither of you speak. You open your mouth once, twice, trying to offer a response, but you come up short both times. Remus eventually speaks, his shoes scuffing against the damp ground as he takes a step back. “I’m not trying to change your mind or anything, but for what it’s worth, I think we’d be really damn good together too.” His voice is low, steady, and effortlessly confident. Without another word, he leaves, and you don’t dare breathe until you hear the front door shut behind him.

When you finally find the strength to stand, you walk home with your thoughts racing a million miles a second. Needless to say – you’re back at the Marauders house the very next morning. James – who’d been calling you all night, smiles with wide eyes when you walk into the living room behind Sirius. His shoulders drop in relief, and you almost feel guilty for intently ignoring each and every one of his calls.

Remus, in a surprising turn of events, is the first to speak. He’s sprawled lazily on the couch, a ring clad hand resting on his upper thigh. There’s a cigarette tucked behind his ear, and he wears a knowing smirk that makes you want to cuss him out. “Not giving up on us yet, hm?”

His stare doesn’t falter when your eyes find his, and you hate how quickly you look away with warm pink cheeks. “Don’t make me regret it, Lupin.”

[reysdriver]

Rockstar!James

headcanons of James as a rockstar — rockstar!james x gn!reader

warnings: sexual headcanons (there is a warning before them) so minors dni, 18+, mentions of sex

words: 0.5k

a/n: marauders aus take up sm space in my brain so im making this, and i may make rockstar stuff for all the boys

- In a band called The Marauders of course

- Reminiscent of like rock bands from the 70s and 80s

- James plays the bass, maybe drums, but I mostly see him playing bass or guitar

- Talks about you in concerts and interviews 

- But you also have a secret signal or code word that he uses that only you two (and maybe the other members) know about so he can show he's thinking about you privately

- If it's a modern AU, he'll post you on his social media all the time, and a lot of his fans are in admiration of your relationship 

- Writes songs about you/dedicates songs to you all the time 

- Spoils you with gifts and souvenirs from every stop of their tours 

- Has it in his contract that the dressing room needs to have your favourite snacks and drinks so you can be comfortable backstage with him

- Has personal touches of yours on his instrument like your name and a heart stitched on his guitar strap, stickers of yours on his case, etc

- Asks for good luck kisses before every performance

- You're always the first to hear the band's new songs 

- Has a scrapbook or memory box full of polaroids of the two of you in every foreign city you visit

- Only buys guitar picks (or drumsticks) in your favourite colour because duh

- If this is an AU with Harry, you stay home or in a hotel room with Harry when he's young and you two watch all of James' performances live

- Then he'll write songs about Harry too ofc 

- The band lets you pick setlists and track orders

- James insists it's because you have the best taste, but the other guys don't mind since they often can't agree anyways

(nsfw headcanons below)

- He has a bucket list of cities where he wants to fuck you, and he makes a big deal of checking off places every time they go on tour

- Like imagine him "Babe, this'll be our first time in Australia, that means we'll have to cross Sydney and Perth off the list"

- He has recorded your moans and used them in the background of a song, but it's quite blended in so nobody notices and it's like your little secret 

- He once told you to sit on the amp while he plays iykyk

- A lot of quickies backstage where it ends just in time for him to perform 

- Him kicking the other boys off the tour bus so you two can have some privacy 

- If he's a guitarist/bassist, you know he's good with his hands

- If he's a drummer, you know he has the best damn rhythm

- Take those both however you will

- If he goes on tour without you, the day he returns will be nothing but sex to make up for all that lost time

[romancingdaffodils]

Love Kills

Clampdown

rockstar!remus lupin x reader

PART TGREE OF LOVE KILLS

James wants to kill time. What better way than a trip to ths pub accompanied by a Scottish football game. Remus isn’t seeing you after the incident. You end up sandwiched between him and Sirius. Chaos of the best kind ensues

bet you didn’t expect this come back did you

lots of love from lilac

warnings: alcohol consumption, kissing, general lovey dovey ness, slight pining.

“Alright, party people, let’s get going! We have pub munch and a Rangers game waiting for us.” Pete shouted down the bus. You assumed James had told him to phrase it like that.

“Food poisoning and a bar fight impending.” you mumbled under your breath and Marlene heard. She laughed, whole heartedly. You smiled. The blonde rockstar esc girl was the lead singer for The Valkyries and she was unbelievably punk for lack of a better word. It was shocking to you her and Sirius weren’t dating (it became less shocking when you accidentally bumped into her and Dorcas snogging behind the tour bus). She had her hair cut in what could only be described as a spiked mod cut. In theory, it sounds awful, but some how the blonde woman managed to pull it off. She was pretty to the point your eyes threatened to turn green with envy.

“No need to be so down, scruff. ‘s not like we’re eating something Black has cooked.” she purred, smirking over at you. Her arm was lazily slouched over the shoulder of Dorcas, who was fast asleep on Marlene’s chest.

Sprinting out from backstage, you began to pack up the drums. You were desperate for a distraction from what had just happened. James walking in would appear during midnight daydreams filled with embarrassing moments. The anticipation of sweet relief that never came from the sandy haired man was far worse than any you’d felt before. Silently, you prayed you’d get another moment alone with Remus.

Completely oblivious, you waltzed outside holding the neatly packed away drum kit. Just as you were about to pack it away into storage, you saw something in the corner of your eye. A little flicker of hope made you check it wasn’t the one you were so desperate to see. Dropped, your jaw almost hit the floor in surprise. Dorcas, the Valkyrie’s lead guitarist and Marlene were stood unashamedly showing a rather intimate public display of affection. As cute as the couple were, the scene drove you even further into desperation of wanting to know what could’ve been.

“You’re funny.” you commented, giggling to yourself quietly. She gave you a proud smile.

“I know. How come we haven’t met before, you didn’t go to school with us?” she asked, curious eyes ever catlike.

“Didn’t go to school with you. Met Sirius at a concert and, you know now I’m here.”

“Exciting. Yanno James mentioned he walked into you a—“

Mary slapped her arm. You sighed, burying your head into your hands in defeat. “Did he tell everyone?” you asked, meekly. You could literally feel the colour draining from your face and everything seemed to slow down in a disgusting mix of anxiety and embarrassment.

“Just— Um. Not Sirius though, he doesn’t know.” Mary replied, smiling sympathetically. Saying nothing, you recalled your pinky promise with Remus and went on a mission to go find him. Padding off down the bus, you found him led in his bunk, book in hand.

“Alright?” he asked, not looking up from his book.

“Remember how you promised not to let me kill anyone.”

“Yeah?” his eyes flicked up to you and your stomach twisted. His voice turned to sticky honey in your ears and you were even more convinced he should be the frontman in an indie band. Or maybe he should be an actor. Or a model. He just deserved to be plastered on big screens with his voice trickling out of speakers everywhere you went.

“Need you to hold me back the next time I see James.” he snorted.

“He told everyone, then? Sorry. Should’ve known really.” Remus added, sitting up and swinging his legs over the edge of the bed. He reached out and grabbed his shoes, tugging them onto his feet. It served as a reminder you still had an entire night of everyone and their mother knowing your personal life. The colour was yet to return to your face and slowly you realised the lanky man wasn’t really looking at you. More he was looking through you. Admittedly, it stung, but you had to pretend it didn’t. Everything seemed tense.

“Yeah. Um, so the pub. What are we going for again?” you asked, desperate to revel in his attention.

“James wanted to kill time.” he replied, looking up at you. Wincing, he stood up with a groan. ‘His knees must be bothering him,’ you thought, peering up at him.

“Alright?” you asked, peering up at him.

“Just my knees, I’ll be fine. You ready then?” he said, scratching the back of his neck. You wondered if he’d let you lazily run your fingernails up and down the skin.

“Sure. Why not.” you confirmed. He gave you a small smile, but still wasn’t really looking at you.

You wanted to kiss every inch of his skin to make him look at you.

When it came to a rare enigma of a person (like Remus Lupin), you found yourself completely pliant at every thought of them. You didn’t need to know them for very long or understand them all that well. You just needed them. Which, undoubtedly, was unhealthy in the grand scheme of things. However, who were you to disregard the thought of such a pretty man being in close contact with you?

You were almost certain you had blown everything because of Remus’s estrangement for the past few hours. Perhaps that small smidgen of intimacy would be all you could get. You’d be awfully upset if that was true. Whispering silent prayers that he’d allow you to bask in his gaze once more, you made your way off the bus with the rest of the - as Pete had called them - party people.

The walk to the pub was short, you’d ended up in a rather deep conversation with Mary about her drums. You decided she was your favourite drummer to exist ever, solely because of how lovely she was. Far nicer than Sirius was to you. You felt a pair of eyes lingering over you and automatically whipped your head round to find who it was. Locking eyes with Remus, you gave a small smile before immediately looking away. His eyes shot away without the smile. Maybe he wasn’t staring at you, you tried to rationalise the tension in your brain. The walk to the pub felt a longer than it should’ve with Remus’s eyes on you. Given it was any other situation, you would’ve been basking in Remus’s gaze. However, due to the tension brewing you found yourself wanting to hide away from it.

Squeezing into the booth, you ended up trapped in between Remus and Sirius. Your thighs were pressed tightly against the others. Remus had a pint, Sirius had some concoction of stolen drinks and vodka and you had a less impressive half drunk cider. You still felt Remus’s eyes on the side of your face. The feeling of your skin being pushed against his jeans was not helping.

“I think, I think that football is dumb! Have you ever watched Rugby? ‘s way better!” Sirius declared. You scrunched up your face and you were almost certain you heard Remus chuckle. In fact, you were completely certain because the sound sent a shiver down your spine.

“Don’t ever say that, ever, again. Okay?” you said, pointing at Sirius. You felt like a teacher scolding a student, but it felt necessary.

“I’m right though.” he whined.

“So, you like watching sweaty men grapple with each other?” you said, obviously sarcastically.

“Yeah, pretty much.”

Remus laughed at this exchange, wholeheartedly. He had started laughing at your sarcasm and your stomach twisted at the thought of making him chuckle. Sirius rolled his eyes and turned away, starting a conversation with Marlene and Dorcas.

“Hi.” you whispered, to Remus as you peered up at him. He tilted his head.

“Hi. You alright?” he whispered in response. His hand twitched slightly as he picked up his glass. You wouldn’t have noticed if it were anyone else, but it was Remus.

“Mhmm!” you peered over at the rest of the table and frowned slightly. “How do they do it?”

“Do what, love?” he asked, the pet name slipping out. He mentally scolded himself, but stopped when he saw the blush spread across your face. The slight curl upwards in the corners of your mouth told him he’d misread the situation. See, Remus Lupin was insecure, especially in relationships. He was certain the whole ordeal with James would’ve put you off for life and that you hated him. But, he couldn’t keep his eyes away from you. He would’ve much rather suffered the whole tour staring longingly at someone than try and chase after you after being walked in on due to his consistent self doubt. A moment of tipsy clarity made him realise he was completely and utterly stupid.

“Talk, so easily. And, all the time. They just, always know what to say. I’m jealous really.” you explained, thankful you didn’t stutter of your words.

“Honestly? We were popular at school, it just comes with the territory really. Me less so, I’m still working it out.” he replied, looking down at you. You nodded your head in understanding. You wanted to shrink him down to the size of a mouse and keep him in your pocket at all times.

Somehow, being sat next to Remus had managed to drown out the sound of the football for an extended period of time. However, it wasn’t long before Rangers were getting chances and it was starting to get a little too overwhelming. He seemed to notice. “Wanna go for a smoke?” he asked, offering out his hand as he stood. You’d never moved so fast before. Nodding your head, you took his hand and stood up. He walked, fast. Big strides, you supposed. It never occurred to you that he was moving fast because he was oh so desperate to be alone with you.

You hummed as you leant against the wall, exhaling a mouthful of smoke. You then handed the cigarette back to Remus, who was staring at you like you were the only girl in the world.

‘Christ,’ he thought ‘this’ll kill me.’

Your eyes landed on Remus and you grinned at him. He smiled back before putting out the cigarette. You pressed your face against the cool bricks of the building; the fresh air was relieving you of the stickiness of the pub.

“That comfy?” he asked, chuckling slightly as he looked at you.

“Rem?” you inhale, sharply. You need to ask him. You tell yourself, you have to.

“Yeah?”

“Why haven’t you looked at me since James walked in on, whatever that was?” you asked, mumbling slightly, “If you don’t like me, that’s fine I suppose but, I’d just like you to tell m-“

“ ‘Course I fucking like you, don’t be stupid. I was scared, I’m sorry. I didn’t want to embarrass you. In all honesty, I was certain it would put you off me. I’m pretty sure you’re the only person here I can handle being around for a good month straight.”

You giggled, quietly. Looking up at him, you saw something in his eyes. You couldn’t pin point it, but whatever it was made you feel admired. “Alright. I believe you.”

“Good.” he said, quite plainly. He said your name. You peered up at him. He’d moved. He was stood directly in front of you. You tensed, praying it wouldn’t be a replay of the intense anticipation from yesterday.

“Looks like the cut is healing up nice.” your voice was barely above a whisper as you spoke. He smiled slightly, taking another step towards you. Your back was pressed firmly against the wall.

“Yeah?”

“Mhm!”

“Let me say thanks for cleaning me up?”

“Mhm!” your voice cracked part way through your squeal of approval. He giggled and you felt his breath fan against your face. You had your eyes screwed shut.

“Look at me.” he said. Your eyes opened immediately. “You’re gorgeous, you know that?”

You stayed silent, staring up at him wide eyed.

“Everything anyone could ever want. Everything I could ever want. You’ve got no need to be jealous of those lot. You’re at least a hundred times better.” he mumbled. One of his hands drifted down to your waist, delicately squeezing at the fat there. The other cupped the side of your cheek, forcing you to look up at him.

Cheers erupted from the pub. You couldn’t help yourself.

“I think someone scored.” you whispered.

“Yeah? Or maybe they’re cheering us on.” Remus said before colliding his lips with your own. He tasted of beer, which normally would be repulsive, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care because it was Remus. It was dreamy eyed, pillowy lipped and pretty faced Remus Lupin and you were kissing him. Your Hands latched onto his shoulders, holding on for dear life. It may have looked like you were attempting to push him away, but in reality you were making sure this was real. That you weren’t caught up in a daydream.

Remus thought you were everything. Really. The whole package. You tried your best in everything, apart from dealing with Sirius, and he thought it was so unbelievably attractive. He wanted you to consume him inside and out. You’d already done so to his thoughts. Your lips felt like silk against his own. Remus Lupin had kissed many people. He didn’t think any kisses previously shared lived up to you. Perhaps it was the build up of tension or maybe it was the close proximity the bus forced onto the two of you. Whatever it was, neither of you couldn’t care less.

He pulled away. He breathed. You felt his exhale fan across your face. It forced you into laughter. Tucking your head into his chest, you wondered if this moment could last forever.

“Okay?” he asked, delicately running his fingers through your hair. You nodded. He hummed. You shivered. “Cold?”

“Yeah.” you admitted. He slips off his jacket. His pretty leather jacket that you assume he was coerced into buying by Sirius. You were glad, actually, because he looked completely and utterly gorgeous in it. You tugged on the jacket, after he handed it to you. “Thank you.” you mumble, peering up at him. You’d already pulled away from his chest, but you wished you hadn’t. It was comfortable and sweet. You wanted to go home with him. Unfortunately, Glasgow isn’t quite home. “Can we go back?” you asked.

“Back to the bus?”

“Yeah.”

“ ‘Course we can, dove.” he smirked, lopsidedly. Your face flushed. He chuckled quietly, interlinking his hand with your own as you walked. You couldn’t seem to keep your mouth shut for the duration of the walk. Remus hummed, nodded, asked questions and laughed as you rambled. You didn’t think it got better than this. You finished your final sentence about music and grinned up at Remus. He smiled back.

“After the tour, let me take you out, yeah? Somewhere nice, and preferably not in the murder capital of Europe.” he said, smile still on his face. It wasn’t often Remus asked a question spontaneously. His actions were almost always premeditated. However, it was you. He just couldn’t help himself.

“I’d really like that, I think.” you replied. Your eyes crinkled at the corners with how wide you smiled. You bit your tongue; you’d much rather die than let out the squeal of excitement that was brewing.

You had to get through the tour first.