#can we talk abt remus' hand on sirius' throat

[padfootswiftie]

🎨 by @/likeafunerall on ig

another art work, another masterpiece

[isolemnlyswear]

hello! can i request a modern marauder (you pick) x popstar!fem!reader (while they're still in hogwarts) to the song breathin by ariana grande as if it were the reader's song? <3 <3

breathin

a/n : this is the most specified request i've ever gotten, so it's kinda shitty ! i really have never wrote anything like this - at all - and i didn’t know if the reader was meant to be a muggle or not ????????? so i made them not one. bc you’re anon i cant ask you questions abt your request, so next time please specify!

continued a/n : wow, this is interesting. i dont like it, but !!! hope u enjoy????

warnings : swearing, bad writing

taglist : @oldschoolkiddo @amourtentiaa @anchoeritic @faeinorbit @tomriddleswifey @inks-and-jinx @jxsperhxle @punkrific @the-gazette-of-tea @krasivayadarling @orifortheweeknd @fallin-4-ya @incxndio @daisyyy2516 @hoe4cedricdiggory @vsawyer1989

Remus sighed, glaring at the raven-haired boy beside him.

“What, s’gonna be fun!” Sirius grins, and the lycanthrope who’s refuting him simply laughs.

“Fun? Your idea of fun is a packed concert - full of muggles, nonetheless - for this...popstar woman?” Remus says incredulously, and Sirius raises an eyebrow.

“Oh, ho, ho, this is not any popstar, Moony. Plus, what else are we gonna do over the summer? Sulk around at your parents’ house?” Sirius grins again, and Remus lets out a sigh.

“The latter I can agree with. But who is this girl, anyway?” Remus inquires, and Sirius reaches into his back pocket to acquire his phone. Although Hogwarts doesn't allow modern technology, both Sirius and Remus have their own each for the summers. With how phone-centered the modern world is, they couldn't not.

He swipes through to find a picture of you - one obtained from your Instagram, which has over four million followers - and holds it up to Remus.

“Merlin,” he breathes, eyes scanning the image.

You're wearing a brown leather dress, the shoulders poking up just barely. Your hair is framing your face, legs tucked under you in a half-crouch, and you're looking into the camera with lips perfectly parted. It was one you took for the shoot of your newest album, and a particular favorite of yours.

“Gorgeous, right? She’s really talented, as well.” Sirius grins, looking at his best friend, who is unresponsive, with eyes glued on the screen. “Moony?” he waves a hand over the brunette’s face, who snaps out of his trance.

“Hmm? Oh, yeah. Sure.” Remus says, blinking a few too many times.

“So, you up for it now?”

“Alright,” Remus replies, nodding at Sirius, who pumps his fists into the air with a grin.

“She's American, but doing a show in London in a few weeks,” Sirius informs, smiling.

“American, huh? How old is she?” Remus asks, settling back into the couch they're perched on.

“That's the best part. She's our age - just turned eighteen.” Sirius grins again, putting his phone away.

“Oh yeah? You say that like she'd notice us. Never gonna happen, Pads.” Remus smiles, shaking his head.

“Expect the unexpected, mon amie.”

---

You're fiddling anxiously with your fingers, hands out of use as someone else is doing your makeup, rather than yourself.

“Almost done, Miss L/N,” Madelyn, your makeup artist, says, brushing a soft highlighter over your cheekbones.

“Mads, I told you that you can call me Y/N. You only do my makeup every day,” you say, closing your eyes as the woman pats highlighter into your inner corner.

“And...” she mists your face with setting spray, “...Done!”

---

About four hours later, your back is facing the crowd that's piled into the venue, stage lights shut off as only the sounds of quiet murmurs and shuffling feet hit your ears.

And then, the lights come on with a thumping click, and you begin the routine that you've practiced time and time again.

The music to your first song, the least vocally challenging of the set, begins, and you turn around with a sway of your hips.

Holding the mic to your mouth, you begin a one-step, two-step rhythm, one that's second nature to you; your eyes survey the crowd, left hand reaching to flip your hair.

The tune changes, and the beat is faster, now, as the lights begin to flash and your voice, in a habitual fashion, changes to match. You stride out rhythmically to the center of the stage.

You crouch in a fluid movement, thankful for the coverage your outfit gives you. It's a black sparkling jumpsuit, bottoms being a high-waisted, glimmering fabric with two side flaps, connected at your stomach to a matching corset-like top.

After a few minutes of usual song/dance routines, followed by cheers from the crowd, you decide it's time for a crowd interaction. It's difficult, resisting the urge to pull out your wand and cast a silencing charm to get the group's attention, but you opt for speech, instead.

"Alright, alright, everybody," you say into the mic with a laugh, eyes scanning the crowd for someone to converse with.

There's one man - his ebony hair is swishing as he speaks - who's bouncing up and down like an eager dog, and you laugh.

"We all excited to be here? In London!" you say, garnering numerous cheers and screams from the group.

"I can tell you are." You walk over to the raven-haired boy, who's in front row, and crouch down. He'd previously cheered extremely loud, confirming his excitement.

The boy makes a loud whoop'ing noise, getting a laugh from his friend.

His friend.

You continue to speak, walking over to someone else, but now your eyes are glued on him.

He looks about your age, with beautifully disheveled sandy brown hair and chocolate eyes. He has numerous scars littering his face, some new and red, some older and whitening.

You can't help but wonder what the scars are from, and you feel a strange attachment to the boy, though you've never spoken before.

And after a while, it's time for your final song. About a thirds of the way through, at your favorite part, you meander back over to the boys.

You lean over, disguising your position as a simple concert move, but you're really staring into the brunette's eyes.

"You remind me of a time when things weren't so complicated." The words fall from your mouth effortlessly, and you're able to search the boy's eyes as you sing. There's a spark in them, a glimmer of light that pulls you in.

"All I need is to see your face." You sing, still singing almost directly to the brunette.

You need to see more of him, you suddenly think. And you continue to sing the song, but all that swims around in your brain is a plan. A plan to erase the mystery behind the boy.

The show comes to a close, but before everyone has left, you pull your manager aside.

"Hey, Martin, this- this is an odd request, but could you ask these two boys to come backstage? That sounds, um, interesting, but would y'mind-"

"What do they look like?" Martin interrupts you, and you sigh in relief.

"One has longer black hair, and the other... sorta sandy brown hair, and some scars on his face. Can you find them from that?"

"I'll try."

You nod and thank him, running backstage to your small lounge and bathroom to await your mysterious visitors, changing quickly into clothes that are more comfortable; a simple silk dress, in a y/f/c hue, and a sweater to go over it.

You fiddle with your wand in your hands, mentally berating yourself.

It was quite a reckless decision, really. It's not like you had a valid reason for inviting these people to such a VIP space such as this. Just because you feel some weird connection to one of them didn't mean you could disregard everything. These boys are probably muggles, and you are not. Merlin, you're getting shipped off to Scotland next year after being home-schooled by your magical parents for eighteen years - just in time for your last year of school -going to a boarding school called Hogwarts (which would be a PR nightmare, but your parents insisted you needed some 'real-life experience').

But amidst your train of thought, you hear a knock at your door - two taps, three taps, your manager's code that it's okay to open the door - and you shove your wand into your (enlarged via Engorgio charm) pocket.

You stride over to the door, fiddling with the hem of your sweater, and open it to see Martin.

"Here they are, Miss L/N." He steps to the side to reveal the two boys, the darker-haired male standing in front, and you refrain from gasping when he steps forward, allowing you full view of the other boy.

The scars on his face are glimmering in the light, and his eyes are warm, pulling you in with every glance. His hair is perfectly tousled, and he's tall, over six foot two, or so you'd guess.

"Come in," you say, stepping aside to allow them entrance. You nod to Martin, signalling him to leave, and he does so, shutting the door and leaving you with the pair.

"Holy shit," the raven-haired boy says, and you realize he's only slightly shorter, about an inch less.

You laugh slightly, gesturing for them to sit down.

"Why are we back here?" the shorter one says, and you smile. He's made himself comfortable, seemingly the more outgoing, but the other one is still standing awkwardly beside you.

"You can relax, I'm not interrogating you," you say, smiling at the taller boy, who seems to let out a breath. "Why don't you introduce yourselves, and then we can talk, okay?"

"I'm Sirius, Sirius Black." The boy runs a hand through his dark hair, grinning.

"Ah, like the constellation? Brightest star in the sky," you say, and he nods.

"I'm, um, Remus. Remus Lupin," the other boy says tentatively, offering a smile.

"Hi, Remus," you say, nodding. "I don't want to assume you know my name, I'm aware you're not American, but considering you're at this concert-"

"Of course, we know your name, we're British, not daft," Sirius says with a playful scoff, and you laugh. "You're Y/N."

"That I am," you say with a giggle, and Remus grins. Your heart stops for a moment, the world coming to a halt as his eyes meet yours.

Sirius clears his throat, and a blush spreads onto the apples of your cheeks. You gulp, looking down.

"So, you didn't answer my question," Sirius starts, tilting his head, but Remus kicks his shin.

"Pads, chill," he whispers, shaking his head. Sirius shakes his head, looking at you.

"It's fine, really. 'M not that interesting, no need to be uptight," you say, smiling again.

"I'd beg to differ," Remus breathes.

After what feels like no time at all, but is really three hours, you've gotten any and all formalities out of the way. Well, all but one - you're still unsure if they're muggles, and they don't know that you're a witch, either.

That is, until Remus gets up to go to the restroom, and something tumbles out of his pocket.

Your first thought is how did something that long fit in a jean pocket, but then you see what it is.

It's a wand, about ten inches, cypress wood, with a small bulb at the end of it. You gasp, and Remus goes pale, stumbling to pick it up.

"Is that-" you start, but Sirius cuts you off.

"It's nothing," he says quickly, but you shake your head.

"That's a wand," you say slowly, and Remus is wide-eyed, nervously fidgeting.

"It-"

"No, no, no," you say, reaching into the pocket of your sweater and pulling out your own. Sirius and Remus simultaneously gasp as you brandish it in your hands, and you grin.

"You're a witch?" Remus asks, jaw slack.

"You're a wizard?" you return, raising an eyebrow.

"Fuck yeah we are!" Sirius says, and you grin.

"What school?" Remus inquires, and you purse your lips.

"I was home-schooled, but this year - for my last one - I'm going to this school called Hogwarts? D'you know it?" you explain, garnering another gasp from the pair.

"That's where we go," Remus says, and your eyes light up.

"Really?!" you ask excitedly.

"Yeah! I guess you'll have some friends when you get there, at least," Remus assures, grinning.

"I bet Remus wishes you had a boyfriend to greet you," Sirius says, disguised with some coughs, and you blush. Remus kicks his friend in the shin again, and turns to you with a sigh.

"Sorry, he doesn't know what he's talking about," he says, and you raise an eyebrow.

"Does he not?" you ask flirtatiously, and it's Remus's turn to blush.

"Uh-"

"We'll just have to see, won't we?" you say with a mischievous grin, one returned by the sandy-haired boy in front of you.

[xomarauders]

Heyyy idk if you remember that ask you answered abt that douche harassing sirius and I remeberd that on it at one point McGonagall asked to speak to Sirius, I was wondering if you ever thought abt writing that scene?? Cuz I would DEFINITELY love to read it, only if u want tho

tw: talk of sexual harassment/assault

read the first part here if you’d like :)

—

“Take a seat, Sirius.”

McGonagalls voice was soft, but firm enough that Sirius didn’t dare disobey. He sat down on the usual chair he sat in whenever he was called into her office—mostly for detentions with James—and pulled his legs up so that his chin was rested atop his knees. The position made him look pathetic, he was sure, but he really didn’t care. He felt so humiliated and small already, why not just try to make himself disappear?

He could sense McGonagall’s gaze on him but refused to meet her eye. He didn’t want her to see him cry and he knew that if he saw any sort of concern in her face, he’d lose whatever composure he’d been trying to keep together since leaving the Great Hall.

“Is Remus in trouble?” He said, hoping that by asking about his friend she might forget to talk about him.

“He has detention with me this evening.”

Sirius just hummed in response, picking at the laces on his not-dress-code-approved boots. The image of Remus punching Thomas flooded back into his mind and he felt his throat grow tight. Sure, Remus punched Thomas, got him pretty good, too, but Remus probably thought Sirius was a whore now. There was no chance that Remus could love him now, not when those godforaken rumors finally reached his ear. Gods, the whole fucking school had to have heard by now and they were all going to think—

“Sirius?”

He looked up to see McGonagall looking at him, one thin eyebrow raised in question.

“I’m sorry, did you ask me something?” He asked, feeling heat rise to his cheeks.

“I asked if you’ve been experiencing any other harassment as of late?”

Sirius stared at her, the words on the tip of his tongue.

Stephen Perry cornered me in the locker rooms after the Quidditch game asking if my ass was as good as everyone says it is. Abram Defreis tried to stick his hands down my pants while we were making out and told everyone he had succeeded even though he hadn’t. Both Richie Wadsworth and Quentin Dall said I blew them behind the hidden tapestry in the cooridors and Thomas Greenway has been harassing me all week trying to get me to sleep with him and now the whole school thinks I’m a whore because I rejected him and he lashed out.

“No,” he said instead, his stomach feeling sick, “not really. I guess Thomas just got a little upset.”

McGonagall stared at him for a long moment, a look of disbelief and concern on her face before she finally nodded.

“Okay. But Sirius? If you ever need to talk to someone or expirience anything like this —whether it happened in the past or not—my door is open.”

Sirius nodded once, a few tears finally escaping his eyes before he stood and exited the room.

***

It was a few days later that Sirius found himself back in McGonagall’s office. After talking with both James and Remus, they had insisted that he tell their head of house the whole truth as to what was going on. He had refused vehemently for awhile, but he finally had to cave when Lance Yearsley pushed him up against the library books and stuck his tongue down Sirius’ throat after claiming that “he wanted his turn before the Gryffinwhore became too loose.”

Ms Pince had heard the books Sirius had been holding fall to floor as he tried to push Lance away and quickly split them up once she reached them, sending a very angry Lance to Dumbledore and a very distraught Sirius to Professor McGonagall.

So there he sat, in her office with tears stains on his cheeks and tea that had gone cold sitting in front of him. He wished that Remus was there. Remus had been so comforting the past few days. Ever since Sirius realized that his feelings were reciprocated and that Remus in fact did not think he was a whore, they decided to test the waters as boyfriends and Sirius couldn’t remember being so happy in his life.

Both Remus and James had been wildly protective and even Peter had made sure to stick close to Sirius so that no one would try anything, and Sirius thought he was safe. Safe enough to go the library alone to get a few books.

Apparently he was wrong.

“I don’t know how it escalated.” Sirius finally said. McGonagall had been waiting patiently for him to breach the subject, not wanting to pressure him, but needing the truth all the same. “Sure, I’ve kissed a few blokes but...I haven’t...I don’t know why it’s become this.”

It felt like some sick joke. Like everyone decided to target him because why? Because he was proud of who he was? Because he was an openly gay pureblood? Because he was disowned from his family so there were no consequences to messing with him? Sirius couldn’t figure out which one it was, but either way, he felt fucking dirty.

“Sirius,” McGonagall said, “I need you to tell me as much as you can about who has been doing this to you and what has been done to you.”

And so he does. He tells her everything. About Stephen, Abram, Richie, Quentin, Thomas and Lance and how he doesn’t feel safe being alone anymore, how he is practically attached to James’ hip during Quidditch practice and how he waits to leave class with Peter or Lily so he’s not walking the halls alone and how he cries himself to sleep in Remus’ arms because he hates what he’s become in peoples minds. He tells her everything.

By the end, he’s in tears, but he feels so much lighter. And the angry but determined look on McGonagall face is reassuring as she pulls him into a tight hug.

“I promise you that I will have it all taken care of. You do not have to be scared here, Sirius, not while I’m around. If you have any trouble at all—for anything—tell me and I will see that it is taken care of.”

And Sirius felt like he could finally breathe.

[deathlyhogwarts]

Drooling like a dog (Sirius Black x Reader)

Requested by @xm0th: Here’s A request! Sirius x Reader! The Reader is friends with the Marauders and Is very close with Them, While Sirius is Head over heels for the reader. The reader finds the boys with a black dog (they don’t know abt the werewolf stuff) and just asks if this is their dog and just gives Sirius belly rubs, kisses and etc, and someone nicknames him a  ridiculously generic dog name since she knows of their nickname. The boys are aware of Sirius liking the reader and kinda tease him abt it

A/n: he isn’t really a dog in the gif... but i feel like it resembles a bit with the request. also imagine a sequel where he tells y/n he is a dog. like imagine the joy. ah. i might write that sequel.

Part 2

Masterlist

“I just simply don’t understand why they won’t let students bring dogs to the school!” you said exasperated, throwing your hands up in frustration and slamming them on the dining table, making the plates do a little jump. You were arguing — that was merely an exaggeration, the one who was red faced and consumed by this was only you — with James Potter as to why Hogwarts wouldn’t allow certain animals as your pets. Of course, your mind was only thinking about Quincey, your dog from home, who you missed very much. “They let toads in here, those stink!”

“And dogs don’t?” James argued, raising one thick eyebrow and sipping from his glass of water. “Blimey, Y/N, I don’t know why you’re making such a fuss about it. You spend time with your dog every summer, plus holidays.” He shrugged, as if that was enough. But he didn’t know how it was like. You loved your dog, he wasn’t just some pet, he was your friend above all. “Besides, Sirius behaves like a dog most of the time, you might as well count him as a one.” He smirked knowingly at Sirius across the table, who choked on his food at his words.

You rolled your eyes at them and looked at the rest of the boys at the table. “Remus, can you help me a bit here?” You looked pleadingly at the scarred boy, who you liked best out of all of them. Well, second best but you would never admit who was the first. Remus was always the one with more logic out of all of them, mostly because he actually tried to watch every situation from afar, not letting his or others biased opinion get in the way. That was, at least, what you thought until now.

 “Sorry, Y/N, but I do have to agree with Prongs here.” He gave you an apologetic look. “Dogs would be too much to take care of, they need constant attention and care, which would be distracting from your education. Also, they do smell a bit.”

“Sounds just like Sirius, am I right?” James added.

You sighed, almost ready to surrender — almost. You turned to Sirius, who had been awfully quiet this morning, and who was cutting his scrambled eggs with such force that you imagined he was thinking of cutting James. “What do you think, Sirius?” you asked softly. He stopped cutting and just stood, staring at his plate, before he turned to look at you, his expression unreadable. “Could you defend a girl in need?” You batted your eyelashes, hoping at least he would agree with you. But, by the looks of it, his eyes were confused and you thought he hadn’t been paying attention at all; either that, or he was just a good actor.

He shrugged. “C’mon guys, being—I mean, having,” he paused, looking horrified for a second, but it vanished quickly. “Having a dog isn’t that bad. They are actually quite friendly.” He looked at you again with adoration as if thanking you for defending the dogs. You thought you imagined it, so you quickly averted your gaze.

Smiling triumphantly at the other guys, even though Peter didn’t feel the need to enter the conversation, you said, “See? Thank you, Sirius, it’s nice to know someone here has common sense.” They said nothing in return, but they all had mischievous smirks on their faces.

Later that day you had an hour before lunch to spend however you liked and you, being bored as you were, decided to go to the castle grounds and look for the Marauders, as they were not in the Gryffindor tower. Having arrived outside, you scan the area with your eyes, until they land on a familiar group of boys near a tree. They were with their backs turned to you, all of them seemed to be very focused on something.

You made your way towards them and just when you were about to reach them, James looked over his shoulder and smirked at the sight of you. He turned his gaze back to whatever they were looking at and then all of them were staring at you. "Hey, guys, what's up? What's got you all... focused like that?" you said and sat down next to them. "James, you don't even pay that much attention in cla—" you trailed off as they all turned to face you, finally revealing what got their attention earlier. Your eyes widened as before you stood a black dog, its tail waggling rapidly and its tongue hanging outside if his mouth, looking at you like it was expecting you to pet him. You gasped. "Oh my God! A dog, a freaking dog!" You practically lunged yourself at it, scratching it behind its ears and talking in a baby voice.

The guys laughed and mumbled something, but you weren't paying attention to them. "Is this why you were arguing with me earlier? So I wouldn't expect a dog in here?" You finally looked at them, still petting the dog. "Because if it is—"

"Oh, no, we still believe dogs shouldn't be allowed in the school," James said.

"Then who is this? And what's he doing here?" you asked them confused, then turned back to the dog and kissed his nose. The dog made a sound that sounded a lot like a whimper and looked... embarrassed? A dog looking embarrassed?

The boys shared a look and then Remus said, "Er, Hagrid brought him here, he found him in the woods. He'll take him to a shelter in London soon, though."

You pouted and hugged the dog. "But why? Can't he just keep him? I mean, look how cute it is." At that James smirked and Remus shrugged.

"But it does smell a bit, doesn't it?" Prongs asked, the smirk still planted on his face. The dog barked.

You merely rolled your eyes. "What's his name? Oh, what's your name, pretty dog, yes, you, you're such a good boy," you cooed at the dog.

"Ss... Snuffles?" James said, looking unsure of himself. The dog barked again, but this time sounded more like a laugh. That reminded you of someone.

"Where's Sirius, by the way? He would love to see this handsome dog." You kissed Snuffles on his cheek and in exchange he licked you on the face. As you didn't hear any answer, you looked up and saw them looking at you very amused, and, once again, smirking. "Well?" You raised your eyebrows, waiting for an answer.

Remus coughed. "He got caught up with some business."

"Oh." You immediately looked away, knowing that 'business' meant that he was probably snogging some girl in a broom closet somewhere in the castle. "Who is it this time?" you asked, trying not to sound hurt and swallow the lump in your throat.

Remus frowned. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, who's the girl he's with now?" You tried to mask the bitterness in your voice with a forced laugh and you only hoped it didn't sound as fake as you thought it did.

"No, Y/N, that's—" but he couldn't finish his sentence as the dork started to bark uncontrollably at you. You forced a smile and pat him on the head.

"Well, I suppose it's time to eat, you better get Snuffles to Hagrid then," you said as you got up and started walking towards the castle.

"Merlin, she really is oblivious, isn't she?" James said when he was sure you couldn't hear him.

"Tell me about it." Sirius was now back in his human form, looking at you sadly as you walked your way towards the castle.