#check it out losers I actually wrote for Sirius Black again!!

[lupinlongbottom]

Aggravating Acquaintances

Sirius Black x Reader

Summary: Being friends with James Potter was a feat many didn’t have the pleasure of experiencing. However, for (Y/N), the worst thing to happen to their friendship was meeting one Sirius Black on the Hogwarts Express their first year. To say that (Y/N) and Sirius didn’t get along would be an understatement. 

Prompt: Hey! Imagine for Sirius with prompts 147 and 71? - Anon

147. “You couldn’t handle me even if I came with instructions.

71. “Are you really flirting with me right now?”

prompt list can be found here

Word Count: 3.8k

Warnings: drinking/alcohol, a few suggestive themes?

A/N: Sirius Black. That’s it. That’s the author’s note. also i really like asshole energy you know? no? idk. bantering and whatnot is a bunch of fun

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Parties.

(Y/N) never cared for them, if she was being honest with herself. Never once did the idea of drinking her problems away, only to laugh and dance with her friends came to mind. While she never shied away the occasional drink, she never felt the need to have more than a few, to let her inhibitions get the best of her. But now, here she was, surrounded by a pack of bumbling drunkards in a rather crowded Gryffindor common room, wishing for the sweet release of death.

“(Y/N)!” James Potter, Gryffindor Chaser, exclaimed from across the room, practically crawling over the crowd to reach her. 

“Hey Jim,” (Y/N) smiled politely, choosing to ignore the way his eyes were pleasantly glazed over. He had a habit of going too hard, too quick. “How’s the party treating you?”

“Never been better,” James said, trying not to shout. “Gryffindor won the match!” So much for not shouting. A few Gryffindor students aided in the chant. Some rogue Hufflepuff students chimed in as well. 

“I know,” (Y/N) laughed, placing a hand on his shoulder. “I was watching the whole thing, remember?”

“Oh yeah,” James laughed. “Did you think Evans saw me?” His head whipped around, eyes scanning for the redhead.

“Oh she saw you,” (Y/N) said, nodding lightly. “How could she ignore the way you fell off your broom?”

“Hey!” James said, his attention drawing back to (Y/N). “Almost. I almost fell off my broom, caught myself in the end,” he laughed, “wouldn’t want to spend this night with Poppy, would I?”

“Suppose not,” (Y/N) said, taking a sip from her glass. It was mostly  pumpkin juice, the scent alone was a giveaway, but one of (Y/N)’s roommates insisted on adding some firewhisky, just to shake things up. The warmth traveled to her chest with every sip. It wasn’t terribly unpleasant. “Wouldn’t want to give Evans the wrong idea about who you fancy, no?”

“I love Poppy,” James said, sighing lightly, leaning against the wall. “She really knows how to mend a broken bone…”

“What about a broken heart?” (Y/N) asked, pointing to a couple across the room. There, in the corner, Lily Evans and a Ravenclaw boy whose name escaped (Y/N)’s recollection. They looked to be awfully close, whispering sweet nothings in the midst of the crowded room.

“Why do you have to do that?” James asked, groaning ever so slightly. “Ruin my high?”

“It’s my job,” (Y/N) shrugged, taking another sip. “You know, friend code and all.”

“I don’t think that’s very friendly of you, (Y/N),” James said, eyes growing sharp.

“Look, either you saw it now or saw it later,” (Y/N) said nonchalantly. “I figured if I told you now, you’d at least have half a mind to go and try to change it, wouldn’t you?”

“I suppose you’re right,” James said, the dark look on his face contorting to one of intrigue. “Strike while the iron’s hot!”

“Exactly,” (Y/N) smiled, pushing his shoulder. “Go get ‘em, tiger.”

Without another word, James pounced across the crowded room, a faint shrieking of Lily’s name rang throughout the carpeted walls. (Y/N) laughed, noting how the girl’s emerald eyes met with the ceiling, pulling the boy dressed in blue away from James’ persistent swooning.

“Pumpkin juice? At a party?” A voice behind her chanted, nearly right next to her face. 

(Y/N) turned to the sound. There, in all his glory was Sirius Black, the man she had a less than ideal share of run-ins with. They were known to butt heads, ever since their first year.

“Oh, hello Sirius,” (Y/N) said cooly. She took a large swig of her drink, nearly half the cup in one go.

“Would you like me to fetch you a juice box too? Maybe a blankie?” Sirius laughed, finding himself leaning against the wall near (Y/N).

“Would it be one of yours? Because I’ve forgotten mine all the way back home…”(Y/N) said, the fakest smile she could muster adorned to her face.

“Funny girl,” Sirius said, downing the rest of whatever was in his cup, setting the empty chalice down near his feet. “Would you want it to be one of mine?”  

“And to be covered in dog hair?” (Y/N) said, nearly snorting. “Fat chance.”

“Oh come off it, (L/N),” Sirius grinned, “I’ll make it smell extra rugged, just for you.”

“Rugged how?” (Y/N) inquired, crossing her arms as best she could, drink still in hand. “Cigarettes and wet dog?”

“Exactly,” Sirius said, “extra rugged.”

“Right,” (Y/N) laughed, turning to ignore Sirius, her attention back onto James across the room. Sirius followed her eye line, watching her stare almost intently at the Gryffindor.

“Oi,” Sirius said, waving a hand in front of (Y/N)’s face. “Let him have his fun, he doesn’t need mummy around to keep an eye on him.”

“I’m not his mum,” (Y/N) said.

“Sure act like it,” Sirius said, picking at his fingernails. “Always doting on him, scolding him for every little thing—”

“I only scold him if it involves you, Sirius,” (Y/N) said, pointing an eyebrow at the grey-eyed boy. “The shit the two of you get into, I swear—”

“You shouldn’t have to scold him, you’re not his mum.”

“I literally just said I wasn’t,” (Y/N) said, growing annoyed. “I just care about him, okay? I’ve known him longer than you—thanks, by the way—so I think I owe it to myself to make sure he’s not going to kill himself—”

“Oh wow, little (L/N) pulling the ‘I’ve been his neighbor since forever, therefore I think I know everything about him’ card again,” Sirius said, his voice mocking (Y/N)’s. “Grow up, relax and let him have his fun.”

“Your impression of me is quite good, did you practice that in the mirror?” (Y/N) said, growing hot with anger, not that she’d give Black the time of day to know it.

“I think the key to a good (Y/N) impression is the shrillness in the voice,” Sirius said, nodding lightly. “Though your beautifully enchanting—but ice-cold—stare is hard to pinpoint, I’ll admit.”

“Beautifully enchanting?” (Y/N) laughed, the heat in her face not ceasing.

“Yep,” Sirius nodded, unashamed. “I figured talking about your big mouth was already pretty obvious, didn’t need to—”

(Y/N) slapped him hard against the arm.

“I should add terribly mean to the list,” Sirius mumbled, rubbing the place of contact, a slight grimace doting his expression.

“Terribly mean?” (Y/N) nearly laughed. “You’re the one saying I have a big mouth!”

“You do,” Sirius said, “not backing down from that one, never.”

“You annoy the hell out of me, Sirius,” (Y/N) said, finishing her glass. “I’m going to get another drink—”

“Allow me,” Sirius said, pressing a hand against (Y/N)’s chest, preventing her escape. He pulled his sleek wand from his back pocket, waving it ever so slightly. With ease, two—rather full—glasses found their way through the air, above the commotion of the room and into their space. “Take it,” he motioned to the still floating cup, taking a large swig of his, “I reckon a bit of actual alcohol will make you a bit more lively.”

“Please,” (Y/N) said, grabbing the glass tightly, bringing the brim to her lips. The hot burning of cinnamon met her tongue instantly. If she had a splash of firewhisky before, this might as well have been a tsunami, the liquor coating her throat. “Oh my God, how much is—”

(Y/N) let out a sputtering cough, unable to hold the liquid well. Sirius merely smiled.

“Peter’s been making them,” Sirius said, nodding to the pudgy Gryffindor across the room. “I tried teaching him how to count out his shots, but he’s still got a bit of work to go,” he took another sip, “though, makes for a hell of a punch, doesn’t it?”

“I’ll say,” (Y/N) said, eyeing the drink in her hand cautiously, “Why have you let Peter take over your usual job? Last time I came to one of these, I distinctly remember you were the one making the drinks.”

“Ah,” Sirius clicked, staring into his own cup. “Felt like I should give Peter a spin, considering he’s been nagging me about it practically all year.”

“Why’s that?” (Y/N) asked. 

“Easy,” he took another sip, “being the bartender means you get all the girls practically batting their eyes at you all night,” Sirius said, grinning widely. 

“Makes sense why you like the job so much,” (Y/N) said, pressing her back against the wall. “Those kind of girls can’t keep their eyes off of you.”

“So you’ve noticed?” Sirius smirked, “thought you didn’t may much mind to my life, isn’t that right?”

“O-of course not,” (Y/N) said, stammering lightly, “it’s hard to ignore the girls who throw themselves at you,” (Y/N) found herself burying her words into her cup, gulping quickly. “Hell, nearly all of my roommates can’t stop their insistent conversations about your hair—or whatever—halfway into the night. It’s exhausting.”

“What about my hair?” Sirius asked, bringing a hand up to his long locks. 

“Nope,” (Y/N) shook her head, “not falling for that one. You don’t get the pleasantries of me repeating compliments to stroke your already large ego,” she shook her head again. “No way.”

“So you think it’s huge?” Sirius said, glancing down at (Y/N), that shit eating grin plastered to his face. 

“Shove it.”

“Wouldn’t you like that pleasure, hm?”

“Sirius,” (Y/N) said plainly, “are you really flirting with me right now?”

“I might,” Sirius shrugged, almost unbothered.

It wouldn’t have been the first time he had done it. Sirius Black was anything if not perceptive to his surroundings, noting how his—what was hopefully an obvious joke—flirting flustered (Y/N) every so often. How he loved to push her buttons, make her squirm.

“Why don’t you go and try your luck on someone who’ll care?” (Y/N) sputtered, pointing her glass-filled hand over to a group of girls who had been staring at Sirius for so long, they might as well have been made of stone. “I’m sure you’d get a better reaction out of them, wouldn’t you agree?”

“Don’t want to flirt with them,” Sirius said, giving a polite wave to the girls across the way. One looked as if she was ready to faint. “Would rather annoy you.”

“How charming,” (Y/N) said, her voice cool as ice. 

“You’re not shooing me away,” Sirius said, almost in shock. “Normally this is the part of the conversation where you promise to hex me or,” he waved his hand dramatically, “go and complain to Potter. What gives?”

“I’m drunk,” (Y/N) lied, taking another sip as if to prove her point. “Sue me.”

“If you’re drunk, then I’m the Queen of England,” Sirius laughed, his chest bobbing up and down. “There’s more to it,” he pressed a finger to (Y/N)’s cheek, pushing her head to the side, “admit it. Go on, I’m all ears.”

“What do you want me to say, Black? That I fancy your company?” (Y/N) said, almost surprised at her honesty. Perhaps the firewhisky was working a bit faster than she expected. It had been a long time since she had as many drinks as she did, but she blamed the excess drinks on the grey eyed boy standing near her. 

“Fancy my company?” Sirius repeated, nearly as stunned as (Y/N). “Since when has that ever been the case?”

“Since all my friends ditched me,” (Y/N) said, staring back into her cup. “One of them went back to our dorm, a boy on each arm—Godric, I don’t even want to go back in there. I don’t know what I’m going to get myself into going back to that…”

“Rotten friends,” Sirius said, “even if they are getting laid. S’not right.”

“Figured it was either chat with you or look like a terribly sad fly on the wall,” (Y/N) said, “I chose the latter.”

“Honestly, I’m honored,” Sirius said, bowing lightly. “Truly and utterly honored to be of service.”

(Y/N) didn’t know why she had even bothered to spend another second with Sirius Black, if she was being completely honest. The entire time she had known him—first year, met on the train—he had been the constant thorn in her side. She clung to James quite a bit back then, that was something she could admit, but James acquiring another close friend, someone so unlike herself, really ground her gears. Black and (L/N), like oil and water, could coexist for a bit but never truly mix. 

“You should be,” (Y/N) said, feeling herself grow a bit lighter. The alcohol, she assumed was the cause, nothing more. “I’m surprised you’re even chatting with me this long anyway,” (Y/N) fought back a yawn, “thought my perfume would scare you away, has in the past.”

“It’s grown on me,” Sirius said plainly, “better than the rubbish James’ been using to woo Lily, stinks up the entire room.”

“Tell me about it,” (Y/N) laughed, recalling the repugnant aroma that James swore up and down would win Lily over, the woman at the department store said so herself. “I told him when he bought it that it wouldn’t work, still didn’t listen.”

“He really doesn’t listen,” Sirius said, glancing over at James. He had been sulking in the corner, rejected by Lily. “But I reckon we could do him a favor.”

“A favor?” (Y/N) asked, draining the rest of her drink. “What’re you thinking?”

“Let’s go destroy that cologne,” Sirius said, pulling on (Y/N) sleeve, headed towards the dormitory. “Together. You know, since we’re friends now.”

“I never said that,” (Y/N) scoffed, following Sirius up the stairs, the lightness in her chest expanding. Sirius pulled (Y/N) into their room, conveniently empty. “Well? Where does James keep the bottle?”

“Not sure,” Sirius said, shutting the door, getting a stink eye from (Y/N), “what? I don’t want Prongs walking in here while we destroy his property.”

“Fine,” (Y/N) laughed, flinging herself onto James’ bed, rolling to the foot. She propped herself onto her elbows, head hanging over the bright red trunk at the end of the bed.  “Do you think it’s in his trunk?”

“Seems like a good place to start,” Sirius said, kneeling before the trunk, hands tracing the latches. “You’re going to want to move your head, sweets,” Sirius laughed, pushing (Y/N)’s head back, “wouldn’t want to hit your pretty face, would we?”

“So you think it’s pretty?” (Y/N) smirked, pursing her lips. She could almost see Sirius’ eyes roll to the back of his head, for just a moment. “What? So you can flirt with me, but I can’t dish it back? Seems awfully silly, Black.”

“Wasn’t flirting,” Sirius said, rifling through James’ trunk.

“No?” (Y/N) giggled, rolling to her back, the top of James’ red four-poster filling her sight. “You called me pretty.”

“And you are,” Sirius said, lifting up a few books, eyes scanning the contents beneath them. “It’s the truth.”

“So that’s not considered flirting?” (Y/N) asked, growing confused.

“I call all the girls pretty,” Sirius said, smirking up at (Y/N). “Fact of life, sweets.”

“There you go again,” (Y/N) said, pointing her finger upwards, “calling me ‘sweets’! If that’s not flirting, I don’t know what is!”

“Is it?” Sirius asked, closing the trunk. A large smirk was plastered to his face.

“Holy fuck!” (Y/N) exclaimed, throwing her hands into her face. “You are so aggravating! First you’re flirting with me, then you claim that you’re not and now you’re just playing mind games with me!” (Y/N) groaned, rolling back onto her chest, face planted into the sheets. “I wish you came with instructions, for fucks sake. At least then I’d be able to somewhat understand you.”

“You couldn’t handle me even if I came with instructions, love,” Sirius said, head resting comfortably on his hand.

“What kind of a line is—”

It was then when she lifted her head, (Y/N) noticed, how close Sirius’ face was to her own. She never noticed the mole on his nose, slightly above his left nostril. Granted, she had never been this close to Sirius before to have noticed the little brown spot. Actually, now that she looked a bit closer, Sirius Black had a few other moles on his cheeks and one right above his lips. If one didn’t know any better, they’d mistake them for freckles. The sporadic placement of these little marks were enchanting, almost like a perfect constellation, unique and intriguing.

“I—uhm—you’re a little close,” (Y/N) said, not moving an inch.

“Hypocrite,” Sirius said, staying as still as a statue.

“Did—did you find the…” (Y/N) tried to find her thought, her mind wandering, finding a home in Sirius’ grey eyes. 

“Cologne? No,” Sirius shook his head ever so slightly, eyes not breaking away from (Y/N)’s.

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

(Y/N) moved her gaze upward, finding solace in the rich reds of the canopy above. In her most recent memory, she couldn’t come up with a time she felt exactly this way, let alone with Sirius Black of all people. She waited a moment before peeking back at the boy at the foot of the bed, her eyes flicking immediately back up to the canopy when she noticed Sirius’ gaze still upon her.

“Why are you staring at me?”

“You’re hard to look away from,” Sirius said, finally adjusting his position.

“Shut it—”

“No,” Sirius said, his voice almost stern. (Y/N) brought herself to turn herself back towards the Gryffindor, curious. “I said what I said.”

“You’re drunk,” (Y/N) laughed, pushing his face away, finding the bit of breathing room she created immensely calming for a moment.

“I’m not,” Sirius said, rebounding to his original position quickly, if not closer. “Are you?”

“No,” (Y/N) said honestly.  

“Good.”

That was all he said. Because in the next moment, Sirius’ lips were on (Y/N)’s. The hand that held his own head up was caressing (Y/N)’s cheek, more gentle than the actions against their lips. The kiss was hot, needy, almost. The tension had snapped like a rubber band, quick and suddenly. But just as quick as it came, (Y/N) pulled away.

“Sirius what the—”

“Oh come on,” Sirius laughed, hopping up onto the trunk, seated neatly in front of (Y/N). “Don’t tell me you’ve never thought about doing that? Besides,” a hand stroked his chin thoughtfully, “you kissed me back.”

“That’s—no—Sirius!” (Y/N) was at a loss for words, the warmth that had radiated from her chest had spread to her entire body in that single motion, what once she could’ve blamed on the alcohol became very telling of her true feelings. She couldn’t deny that she didn’t kiss him back, because that would’ve been an outright lie. Only one thought rang through her mind. “Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why did you kiss me?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” Sirius asked, his grin fading. (Y/N) shook her head. “Well, you must really be thick, then,” he ran a hand through his hair, pushing the stray locks back, “well, considering our sexual tension is always so thick you could cut it with a knife—”

“Sexual tension?” (Y/N) laughed, almost against herself. “Is that what you call it?”

“I mean, sure, it started with a visceral hate for one other—first year was a rough one for that—but you can’t deny our chemistry,” Sirius said thoughtfully. “Who would’ve thought I’ve got the hots for the girl who made my blood boil every time I saw her?”

“Made? Like, past tense?”

“Of course,” Sirius nodded, “well, I suppose you make my blood boil in other ways, sweets.”

“Disgusting,” (Y/N) laughed, pushing Sirius away.

“But you could say in less ways and words that I fancy you, (Y/N),” he shrugged again, “I mean, you’re the only person in this castle who’ll call me out for my bullshit—”

“Incorrect, Remus and various other teachers do too—”

“You’re the only one who calls me out for my bullshit that I’ll listen to,” Sirius corrected, “what can I say? You don’t fawn over me or trip over yourself to get my attention. Quite frankly, you avoid me whenever possible.”

“So, you’re saying you like the chase?”

“Something like that,” Sirius laughed, placing a hand on the bed. “Not to mention that you’re bloody beautiful,” he moved his hand to touch hers, ever so lightly, “and you already get along with my mates—”

“One of them was my best friend before you trailed along, thanks,” (Y/N) said, her smirk growing. She didn’t hate the way his hand felt atop of hers.

“And I’m forever grateful for it,” Sirius said, his face softening. “Grateful for James for introducing me to the biggest pain in my ass.”

“Not the smoothest way to pick up a girl,” (Y/N) laughed.

“But it’s working, isn’t it?”

“I suppose,” (Y/N) smiled, feeling her own face relax. “For some reason.”

(Y/N) allowed herself to give Sirius another kiss, this time, one she initiated. It was softer than before, but still held every ounce of energy like the last. As if like a bucket of ice water had been poured over them, (Y/N) pulled away.

“Wait a minute,” (Y/N) pressed her hand against Sirius’ chest, as he had begun to seek the previous contact. “You let Peter make the drinks tonight.”

“And...?”

“Oh my God!” (Y/N) said, feeling a wave of realization come over her. “You were planning this all along!”

“Well—uhm—not exactly like—”

“Admit it, Sirius Black,” (Y/N) said, poking a finger to his chest, “admit that you let Peter take over your prestigious bartending duties so you could try and woo me!” 

“Woo you? What are we? Fifty?”

“Sirius—”

“Alright,” Sirius laughed, pressing a kiss to (Y/N)’s nose. “I admit it. I figured tonight wouldn’t be the worst time to try to make a move, so I needed to be mobile.”

“You’re such a fucking idiot,” (Y/N) laughed, pressing her lips back onto his, resuming their previous motions. 

While the two had quite a bit more to talk about after their laughter ceased—and things that involved not talking—(Y/N) grew ever more thankful that she chose to attend the gathering this evening. While Sirius still had quite the long way to make up for his previous jokes and pranks he had pulled on (Y/N) in the past—one really can’t forget the forever sticking chewing gum that plastered her robes all of second year—he figured a bit of smooth talking could glaze over any of the cracks. That, and kisses she’d be damned to forget the rest of her life. Two remedies for a sour situation.  

They never did find that cologne. 

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