jordiestardust

[jordiestardust]

what a cute couple i bet they shop at forever 21

[jordiestardust]

'He says, "Bill, I believe this is killing me," as a smile ran away from his face. "Well, I'm sure that I could be a movie star, if I could get out of this place."'

But it's Sirius talking to Barty through the bars on his cell in Azkaban, thinking about the life he could've lived if it wasn't for Peter Pettigrew.

[jordiestardust]

making Van the person who rigs the cards & the group’s storyteller is such a good concept to me bc what is a storyteller but a person who controls a narrative, who decides what direction it’s going to go in & holds the strings of fate? she was doing exactly the same w the cards.

[jordiestardust]

Remus is an Ancient Civilizations history nerd and Regulus is an Art history nerd they are not the same

[jordiestardust]

the pookies

[art by @/peachrtistic]

[jordiestardust]

robin is a cuddler. she loves cuddles. she loves to spoon. she loves to hold you in her arms as she lulls you to sleep. she loves the way your head feels on her chest, and the way you always smell like a flower bed, as if you spent the morning frolicking through a field. she loves the way you hum as you nuzzle closer into her, but especially when she places soft tender kisses all over your face ᡣ𐭩

[jordiestardust]

CURIOSITY GLASSES KILLED PETER.⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ㅤ●ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤ P. PARKER

SUMMARY ৎ୭ peter always leaves his glasses lying around, and today, curiosity gets the best of you. slipping them on seems harmless—until he walks in, stops dead in his tracks, and suddenly, you're the cutest distraction he’s ever seen

WARNINGS ಇ. fluff overload, peter being utterly whipped, excessive compliments, and one (1) very flustered boyfriend. proceed with caution A/N ಇ. first peter fic omg?? was kinda gonna make a longer fic on the more angsty side but then i was like nah that’s too much effort so drabble it is. and honestly i love it so much ughhh enjoy!! ‹𝟹 also pls tell me it it's terrible

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ᡣ𐭩 words.ᐟ 403

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ౨ৎㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

The apartment is quiet, save for the hum of the city outside and the soft ticking of the clock on the wall. Peter had left a little while ago, probably off to grab coffee or run an errand, leaving you curled up on his couch with one of his old textbooks in your lap.

Your gaze drifts toward the small table beside his desk, where his glasses sit, slightly askew, as if he had taken them off in a hurry. A small smile tugs at your lips. You’ve seen him push them up the bridge of his nose a thousand times, seen the way he squints when he forgets them, how they somehow make him look both like the smartest and the cutest person in the room.

Curiosity wins. You reach over and pick them up, slipping them onto your face.

Everything is…a little off. The lenses make the room blur at the edges, and you blink rapidly, adjusting. A quiet giggle escapes you. “Wow, how does he even see in these?” you murmur, tilting your head at your reflection in the window.

The door creaks open.

“Babe, I—” Peter stops mid-sentence.

You turn toward him, wide-eyed, and his breath catches in his throat.

He blinks once. Twice. His mouth opens, then closes again as if he’s buffering.

“Pete?” you say, confused by his sudden speechlessness.

“Oh my God,” he mutters under his breath, running a hand through his already-messy hair. “Why—why do you look so cute right now? What is happening?”

You snort. “What?”

“No, seriously.” He steps closer, eyes locked on you like you’re a puzzle he’s desperate to solve. “That’s illegal. You can’t just—just put on my glasses and look like that.”

You grin, tilting your head. “Like what?”

“Like the most adorable human to ever exist?” He groans dramatically, dropping onto the couch beside you and burying his face in your shoulder. “This isn’t fair. I wasn’t prepared for this.”

You laugh, tugging the glasses off. “So what you’re saying is I should wear them all the time?”

Peter lifts his head, eyes soft but full of mischief. “Babe, if you do that, I’m never gonna be able to focus on anything else ever again.”

You smirk, slipping them back on. “Guess you’ll just have to suffer, Parker.”

And judging by the way he grins before pulling you into a kiss, you’re pretty sure he doesn’t mind one bit.

©iamgonnagetyouback౨ৎ please refrain from copying, translating, or reposting any of my work

[jordiestardust]

Roulette: acts of service no. 33

I saw nothing is so good. Can we get the same dynamic, perhaps a continution with tasm parker and his no-boundaries roomate? Please and thank you.

this was a very sneaky way of asking for a part two to a fic; I respect it. thank you for playing!! <33

Peter Parker x roommate!reader who patches him up [896 words] p1 | p2

CW: ³³⁾ patching up their injuries, roommate!reader has no boundaries, no gender markers used for reader but it is suggested that the reader owns/wears lingerie, admitting to having sexual thoughts about one another

Peter should have known better than to close his eyes and let his guard down now that you are home, but he can’t deny that you’ve always felt like home to him.

He’s paying the price for that now.

You no sooner change out of your work clothes before you’re joining him on the couch; sitting down with a great, heaving sigh and throwing your head back to rest on his abdomen as you so often do.

He hisses in pain. 

The sound has hardly left his lips before you’re sitting up and taking a survey of his frame. “What? What is it? What’d I do?” 

Peter tries to laugh, though it quickly turns into a groan. “I hardly think you’re the one who whacked me with a tire iron, are you?”

“Someone whacked you with a tire iron?” You all but shriek, giving Peter no time to come up with a quippy response before you’re yanking his shirt up in an attempt to disrobe him.

“Hey hey hey, whoa, what happened to buying me dinner first?” Peter grumbles, hardly helping you in your feat as you force the t-shirt over his head.

“You ate my cooking last night, Parker.” You grumble in response, though your brows are doing that cute little dip that they do when you’re focused and your eyes stay locked on his chest; skin tinged an angry red and purple where metal met flesh right over his ribs. He’ll die before he admits it, but he absolutely flexes his core under your piercing gaze.

“And you just left it like this!?” You ask disbelievingly. “You didn’t tape it up? No ice? Have you even cleaned the area!?”

“I’m fine.” he argues as you stand to storm away; the sound of things rattling in the door of the freezer as you yank it open with too much force. “I’m quite capable, I’ll have you know.” 

“Quite capable.” You scoff as you return with a bag of frozen peas, cloths, and some athletic tape. “If you were so capable, how come someone managed to hit you with a tire iron?”

“It was six against one, babe; I think I'm entitled to miss one blow?” He doesn’t look at you as he says it; eyes pointing up at the ceiling and mentally counting backwards from 100 by three as you sink to your knees in front of him and set up between his spread legs. “‘Sides, it was just a tire iron.”

“Just a tire iron? Peter, that is what most people would call a blunt force instrument.” 

“Well I’m not most people, am I?” He jokes. “I don’t know if you’ve heard, but I’m kind of a big deal ‘round here. They call me Spider-Man.”

“You’re a bad Spider-Man…” You mutter, forcing Peter’s head up to look at you incredulously; the sight of your head at waist level is a little too much for him to handle, though, forcing him to recline again.

“What did you just say?”

“I said you’re a bad Spider-Man.” You repeat, now with your full chest.

“How can I be a bad Spider-Man?! I’m the only one! There’s literally nothing to compare me to!” 

“Okay, well, first of all: where are your other limbs?” You ask simply, sitting back on your heels to cut him a look. 

“Other limbs?!” He gawks, sitting back up to glare at you.

“You’re short four limbs for a spider!”

“Man, babe; Spider-Man.” He’s quick to correct.

“And what the hell have you done about mothman?” 

“Mothman?” 

You nod and shrug helplessly. “Well? Spiders eat moths, no? Seems to me a proper Spider-Man should have put a stop to him by now.”

Peter blinks owlishly at you. “You are so weird.”

“Lay back.” You demand after a scoff of offence. 

Peter does as told; hyper focused on your proximity to him, his stomach tightens when your breath tickles his skin. You place your elbows on either side of his hips and he thinks he might actually die as you start dabbing at the broken and raw skin of his abdomen.

“Breathe, Parker, it’s just a cloth.” 

“Yeah, well, you’re currently hovering over my crotch right now so I have more pressing matters to attend to, okay?”

“What?”

“I’ve only ever imagined you on your knees under very different circumstances so you’re going to have to give my brain a second to catch up, alright?” He bites, throwing his arm over his eyes as he waits for you to storm off or maybe call him out for being a pervert. 

“Oh! You’ve imagined that too?” You cheer excitedly, causing Peter to flinch not only at your pitch but also at the way you simply continue your ministrations; wiping at the bruising and scrapes one last time before reaching for the athletic tape. “What was I wearing? Because I have this blue number I think you’d love.” 

His head snaps up again, causing yours to do the same; blinking once, twice, and then smiling at Peter like you haven’t just blown his mind. 

“You are so weird.” He reminds you. “Are you almost done? Please tell me you’re almost done.”

You tsk and smooth out the tape you’ve laid, your hand straying slightly lower than strictly necessary in a way that Peter does not miss.

“You’re all patched up, Parker. Just let me know when you want to see that outfit of mine.”

“Oh my fucking God, someone save me.”

[jordiestardust]

just realized harry never got to say "eww" everytime he saw James and Lily kiss and this information is killing me.

[jordiestardust]

[jordiestardust]

remus is very pretty (and overwhelming) in the morning.

The boys dorm is quiet in a way you’ve rarely seen. Stirring in Remus’ bed, you peer bleary-eyed through the curtains around his bedframe, seeing that the room is empty, the other beds adorned with crumpled-up bedsheets.

Faintly, you remember James mentioning something about an early-morning prank in the Great Hall, and decide to make the most of the solitude, laying back down next to Remus. He’s sleeping heavily, in a way that he only really does around this time of the month, a week and a half after his last transformation and a few days before the early symptoms of the next one start to creep in. 

Taking advantage of his state, you shift, laying your torso over his and tangling your legs together. Propping your chin up on his sternum, your eyeline is full of him. His neck, his face, the sandy hair sticking straight up from his scalp.

Despite having dated for months, you can’t help but get nervous when his introspective gaze is directed at you. For that reason, you often find yourself wishing you had more time to simply stare, before you get far too flustered and have to look away. So, despite wishing he was awake so you could talk, you figure you might as well capitalize on this rare form.

You allow yourself to melt on his torso, pressing your cheek against his sternum as your left hand comes up to rest delicately on his collarbone. Eyes roving over him, you take in the many intricacies of Remus. 

The jagged scars that track from his face down to his chest, the ones you know go all the way down to his heels. The little moon and sun tattoos he’s got on his left shoulder, stick and pokes that Sirius did when they were in first year. Moles and freckles that form constellations, ones that you can see on the insides of your eyelids whenever you get a bit too lovedrunk on him. 

You imagine you look quite lovedrunk right now, eyes dopey with sleepiness and adoration, not daring to look away for even a second. 

Soaking it in, your index finger begins to trace his skin as softly as possible. You follow a scar from his jaw to his clavicle, the raised skin rough against the pad of your finger. It’s a relatively new one. You remember the morning after his transformation, sitting in the Hospital Wing as Madam Pomfrey puttered around his bed, applying tincture after tincture to the angry wound. 

Repressing a shudder at the memory, you move on to a cluster of freckles at the base of his throat. They form a lopsided star, and you smile to yourself as you trace the shape over and over, eyes trained on the small spot of skin.

“...What’re you doing, dove?” You jolt softly at the interruption, looking up sheepishly at Remus’ lidded eyes. His voice is thick with sleepiness, a low rumble in his chest that sends sparks down your spine.

You get momentarily lost in his eyes, pools of amber and oak that seemingly go on forever. Only when he brings a hand up to your hip, squeezing gently, do you answer. 

“Just looking,” His lips quirk up at your words, thumb rubbing up and down your hipbone steadily.

“Looking? At what, me?”

You smile bashfully, your finger never ceasing its movements against his throat.

“Yeah. Just admiring you.”

He puffs some breath out of his nose in amusement, eyes glinting as the sunrise peeks through the windows.

“Yeah?” His eyes dance with mischief as he watches you.

Alright, that’s enough. You’ve endured it as long as you can, the all-too-familiar flush creeping up your neck at his intent gaze. With a groan, you raise your head, shifting your legs so you can begin to roll off of him.

“Hey, where’re you going?” A heavy arm comes up from your hip to wrap around your back, forearm keeping you clasped firmly against his chest. He laughs at your wriggling, his voice low.

“Thought you were admiring me, what happened?”

Realising the futility of your struggle, you give up, burying your face in his chest with a frustrated sound. Your voice comes out muffled, but he hears every word. He doesn’t think he could ever miss a word you say.

“Can’t do it when you’re looking at me.” You cringe at your own voice, the words sounding exceedingly petulant.

“No? That why you were trying to sneak it? Look at me while I’m asleep? Y’little creep.” His voice drips with affection, despite the torment of his words.

Your muffled cry of embarrassment softens him, his free hand coming up to card through the hair at the back of your head.

“Oh, I’m sorry, dovey. Y’know I like it when you look at me. Should I close my eyes for you?” 

You grumble at his words, flicking his side, taking advantage of his dramatic yelp to roll out of his arms.

“You’ve ruined it. No more admiring today.”

His strangled sound of protest follows you all the way out the door.

[jordiestardust]

Teasing kisses - Remus Lupin

summary: basically just dry humping with Remus cw: smut, dry humping, kind of sub!remus? 0.9k+ wc

You pressed kisses alongside the trail of Remus’s jawline, listening to the rhythm of his breathing. Your lips travelled back up to his face, kissing his cheeks, jaw, forehead, and lips, before dipping away again and continuing to cover his body in kisses. Remus’s hands laid on your hips, straddling his own, fingers twitching ever so often in an attempt not to move. Another kiss on his lips and his eyes were fluttering shut, leaning into you, but the kiss was already gone and you continued your loving attack on him. Remus kept his eyes closed, feeling the soft press of your lips against his scarred skin, listening to the steady beat of your heart. When Remus felt your lips approaching his, he straightened his back against the headboard of his bed, puckering his lips slightly. He felt your smile on his lips when you finally kissed him, but gasped slightly when you pulled away again torturously. Remus’s eyes flew open and he whined in need, begging a quiet “Please.” Your lips stilled against his skin, pulling away slowly before making solid eye contact with your boyfriend. 

“Please.” He breathed out again, eyes desperate. You smiled, one hand cupping Remus’s jaw, and leaning forward to lock lips with him. Remus inhaled deeply, a hand moving to hold the nape of your neck gently as he pulled you deeper into the kiss. His mouth opened slightly, prompting you to slide your tongue in between his lips, eliciting a quiet moan from the boy in front of you. Remus glided his tongue against yours, trying to gain access to your mouth before giving up and letting you have control. You giggled into the kiss, pulling away briefly before Remus was chasing your lips with his, desperately reconnecting them. He pecked your lips a few times, enjoying the feel of them against his, before letting you extend the kiss, pushing his chest back so he could fully lean against the headboard once more. You trailed your kisses back to his jaw, but one of Remus’s hands was instantly cupping your cheek and leading you back to his lips. You let Remus eagerly push his tongue into your mouth, licking harshly against your tongue to deepen the kiss.

Sighing in satisfaction, you ground your hips down against Remus's, rolling them experimentally. Remus shot away from you, a string of saliva connecting your lips as he gasped "Shit! Don't do that!" with a hand coming down to grip your bare thigh, just underneath your skirt. Scanning his panicked expression, you couldn't help the smile on your face when you felt his hardening cock straining against his trousers. "Why not?" You prodded, pushing your weight down onto his dick. Remus cursed under his breath, "I'll cum in my trousers." He replied with a whine, as though he knew it wasn't a good enough excuse for you to stop. Giggling corruptly, you resumed your movements, grinding down on your boyfriend's pelvis, a loud moan escaping you when your clit rubbed against the denim of his jeans. "Fuck, that feels too good." You mumbled, eyes fluttering closed momentarily. When you opened your eyes, Remus's expression had changed, jaw slack in awe.

Pressing kisses across Remus's collarbones, you smiled at the sound his quiet moans. You knew Remus had the strength to flip you over if he really wanted you to stop, but teasing him was just too fun. Remus gripped your hips, pushing you down onto his lap while his hips bucked up. It seemed to be a situation of 'I'll cum like this if you cum like this.' Biting down on the skin of Remus's neck, you tried muffling your moans, however you were unsuccessful. Remus cupped your face with both his hands, pulling you back up to slam your lips against his while you took charge of moving your hips, reaching down to pull your underwear to the side, maximising the friction.

All of a sudden, Remus was gripping your hips again, bucking his hips up to help flip you over, emitting a loud gasp from you as you broke the kiss. He used one hand to flip your skirt up before his hand migrated next to your head. Remus watched the movements of his hips against your cunt before deciding to lean forward on his forearms and reconnecting your lips in a kiss. You couldn't help but cry out into the kiss, wrapping your legs around your boyfriend's hips to pull his hips flush against you. Remus pulled away from the kiss, digging his head into the crook of your neck as his breathing sped up, small moans escaping his mouth with every hump of his hips into you. You whined restlessly, bearing nearly Remus's full weight as he rolled his hips into you, otherwise laying completely flat against you. "Fuck, fuck, I'm coming, I'm coming baby." Remus muttered as his hips became erratic against you, the harsh movement causing the cold zipper of his jeans to slide against your clit. The rough metal created the most perfect friction for you and you bucked your hips up, moaning loudly as your orgasm overtook your body, back arching off the mattress.

Remus laid flat against you as you recovered from your orgasm, lifting himself off you as you finally caught your breath. He unbuckled the belt around his hips to shimmy out of his jeans, and inevitably his sticky boxers. You sat up straight on the bed, watching him peel his boxers off, and copied his movements with your panties, tossing them to the side before crawling across Remus's bed and gripping his wrinkled shirt, sitting back on your ankles. Remus leaned down, giving you a soft kiss and gasping when your hands trailed lower teasingly. "Come on loverboy, we're not done yet."

[jordiestardust]

hi can i come over n sob into ur lap

[jordiestardust]

anyone wanna disintegrate into a bunch of dust with me

[jordiestardust]

rip laura lee you would have loved watching jesus walk on pit twigs

[jordiestardust]

More James Potter pleasseeee. I'm literally begging. I've never loved a fanfic more, but you only have the one of him :_(

I'm glad you loved Broom Polish! Here is a second James fic! I promise I'm trying to write more for him ❤︎

Crossword

James Potter x fem!reader

567 words

cw: fluff

“I need a five letter word for arrogant…” you say to no one in particular as you do the crossword in your Daily Prophet. 

“Oh, that’s easy,” Marlene says, leaning over your shoulder to look at the puzzle. “James. J-A-M-E-S.”

“What’s up, ladies?” James asks, perking up at the mention of his name. 

Sirius, Remus and Peter go quiet as James turns his body more toward you and Marlene. Marlene gives him a saccharine smile.

“Five letter word for arrogant,” Marlene says. 

Lily chokes back a laugh as James gasps. The boys are also holding laughter. 

“Am not!”

“Just a suggestion,” Marlene replies with a shrug.

“What about cocky?” Mary suggests.

“Or lofty,” Lily adds. 

“Proud?” Remus pipes in.

You hum as you look over the puzzle. 

“Sadly, it’s going to either Mary or Lils. I have a ‘y’ in the down,” you announce. “But for the record, all of those words are synonyms.”

“Even James?” Marlene teases, still smiling that sickly sweet yet knowing smile. 

You reflect that smile. “Even James.”

James scoffs as he turns back away from you. The girls around you are reduced to giggles as the boys return to the conversation that was interrupted, although the other boys seem just as amused as the girls. 

After breakfast, everyone heads to classes. You take up the back of the group, having taken a few seconds longer to shove your paper into your bag. You’re shocked when James falls into step with you rather than intermingling among the rest of the group, namely Lily who was at the front of the group.

“You don’t really think I’m that arrogant, do you?” he asks, keeping his voice steady but low. He sounded confident but not wanting the others to really hear him.

You give him a sideways glance.

“So what if I do? It’s warranted.”

“Is it?”

“I’d say you’re pretty damn conceited. And it was Marlene who suggested it first.”

James sighs. “You hurt me, love.”

“Don’t be so full of yourself then, James.”

“But I’m great!”

“What makes you so great? Convince me.”

“Might be a prefect but I am Quidditch captain. And I’m great at Quidditch. You’d know that if you went to a match.”

You roll your eyes. “I’ve been to matches.”

“So you know I’m the best on the pitch,” he says with a nod. “And I’m bloody brilliant. E’s and O’s on my O.W.L.s.”

“Which surprised us all.”

“I earn a bunch of house points too!”

You snort a laugh. “You lose more than you earn. Don’t forget that!”

He smiles down at you. “Only in the most entertaining ways though. You have to admit that you enjoy our pranks.”

“Only when they don’t actually harm someone.”

James shrugs in a way to say ‘if that’s what you think.’

“Oh!” he exclaims, stopping in his tracks which causes you to stop in yours to give him a confused look. “I’m also sexy and an amazing kisser.”

You cross your arms over your chest. The group didn’t notice that you two had stopped walking and continued on their way to class. 

“There’s that conceitedness, James. You can’t just declare yourself sexy and an amazing kisser.”

“Hm… Care to prove me wrong?” he asks, glancing around the hallway before pulling you into a closet. “I have an eleven letter phrase for a good place to snog.” (broom closet)

[jordiestardust]

Birthday

Sirius Black x fem!reader

microfic - 765 words

cw: fluff, established relationship

Growing up, you loved your birthday. A day where you got cake and presents and just about anything you wanted. It was all about you. As you grew up, your want for material things dwindled, as did you liking for being the center of attention. Sure, you still liked cake but it wasn’t your favorite dessert. Not that anyone at Hogwarts would bug the house elves for a birthday cake. It wasn’t like you hated your birthday, it just wasn’t special. Whatever magic faults sprinkled on the day had faded and now it was just another day, except with more cards from extended family.

Being that the day wasn’t special to you, you didn’t mention it to your friends. It was a don’t ask, don’t tell kind of situation. You think Pandora knows your zodiac. She had demanded to know it when you first met. So she has an inkling that it’s around now, but she doesn't know the exact date. And that’s how you like it. It comes and goes without anyone knowing. 

“Hey sweet thing,” Sirius says, climbing to sit on the armrest of the bench you’re sitting at. “How was Divination?”

“Boring. Talked about how zodiac signs influence people.”

“Huh. Compatibility come up?” he asks. He leans forward to whisper, “Do the stars say we’re compatible? I’m a scorpio and you are…”

You shake your head with a smile. “I think we cover compatibility later.”

“But what are you?”

“A witch with the poor choice of Divination for an elective.”

“Well, yes,” he says. “But when’s your birthday? I figure it’s something I should know as your boyfriend. Seems like the boyfriend type thing to know.”

You hum and pat your chin with your fingers, as if in deep thought.

“I… don’t have one.” You sound hesitant. It’s not that you don’t want Sirius to know when your birthday is, but you don’t want him to go overboard with gifts and doting on you. His tendencies to go all out were enough for you to withhold the information. 

Sirius lets out a haughty laugh. “Darling, everyone has a birthday.”

You hum again. “I’m one of those special people without one.”

You give him a sickly sweet smile, which he responds to with a pout.

“My girlfriend won’t tell me her birthday. That cuts deep, love. Right here,” he says, pointing at his heart. “Why you not telling me? What are you hiding?”

You shrug. “Nothing. It’s not a special day for me. So why bother?”

“Mine wasn’t special until I came to Hogwarts. Perhaps you just need to know how to celebrate it properly!” 

He stands up, as if ready to plan you a birthday party at that moment, despite not knowing when it is. You see his eyes flicker with a wicked glint. You know that if he had his way, whatever he was planning in his head would be the most outrageous rager Gryffindor Tower has ever seen. You reach out and place a gentle hand on his arm, bringing his attention back to you.

“My birthday was celebrated just fine, my love. My childhood wasn’t… like yours.” His face tightens briefly. “I got presents and cake and everything. I just don’t want that.”

He bites his lip as his face twists to the side. His eyes bore into your face, studying your expression carefully.

“You… don’t want that.” His words come out slowly as he processes. 

“And I know you love celebrating and throwing parties. I don’t want that. Not for my birthday.” 

He nods and sits next to you. He’s quiet for a moment before he leans back and throws his arm around your shoulder, pulling you into his side.

“What if we did a dinner or a muggle movie night? Something just the two of us. No gifts, nothing flashy. Just good ol’ quality time with your dear loverboy?” 

You snort a laugh. “Loverboy?”

“That’s me,” he says before smashing his lips into your cheek for loud sloppy kisses that make you giggle.

“Sirius!”

“When’s your birthday?” he asks, face still smushed against yours.

You sigh and mumbled your birthday. He pulls back, looking offended. 

“Last week?” he gasps loudly. “Your birthday was last week? I MISSED IT?”

“Yes,” you say shortly, but you’re smiling widely.

“I can’t believe you! The anniversary of the moment you arrived on this earth, the most holy day that we were blessed with your presence, passed and you told no one?”

“That could be correct, Sirius.”

“Well, clear your schedule for this weekend, love. I have a birthday to make up.”