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#rockstar remus
lushaletta · 10 months
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paparazzi / remus lupin
pairing: remus lupin x fem!reader
warnings: none
summary: kissing remus backstage before his show.
a/n: OH MY GOD?!! HELLO?? bro. it’s been too long. writer’s block is wiiiiild. anyway. here’s some rockstar!remus self-indulgent fluff as my apology.
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⋆ ࣪.  ⁺⑅ ⋰˚ *.゚ .˳⁺⁎˚ ˚⁎⁺˳ . ༺ ˖࣪ ˖࣪ ∗
You’d been a secret.
Though, you’d grown accustomed to having to tiptoe around the set, stealing glances and smiles.
So this? Wrong. Dangerous. Careless.
You’re wearing your darkest shade of red lipstick, and there are already stains on his collar from your makeup. Paparazzi would never let it go.
“Remus—“ A kiss. “I—“ Another. “They’ll see us.”
He finally pulls away, letting you breathe for more than a second. “Maybe they will.”
You laugh. “In case you’ve forgotten, you’re going to be performing in…” You glance at his watch, “7 minutes.”
“I haven’t forgotten anything, sweetheart.”
“So we should really—“ He decides that if he can’t kiss your lips, your neck will have to suffice. It’s just as distracting, if not more so. “You should be.. backstage.”
You look up at Remus, and there’s a quirk in his brow. “I am backstage.”
“You know what I mean.”
He does know what you mean, but he takes pleasure in your frustration, apparently.
“Remus.”
Putting his hands up in concession, “Two minutes, darling. Two minutes.”
It’s absurd how quickly you nod. Two minutes couldn’t possibly harm anyone. He grabs your face, planting kisses on your nose, your lips, your cheeks, and it’s all too much and not enough at the same time.
“So pretty,” he whispers, tucking your hair behind your ears.
“You’re one to talk.”
He laughs, a sweet sound. “You only think so because I’m covered in your lipstick, Miss Possessive.”
Remus was right, for the most part. You found him pretty all the time, but he looked especially good when it was evident he was yours; something not so common when your relationship was a secret from the public.
“You should wipe that off,” you say, not quite wanting him to.
“Later, honey.”
He places a final kiss on your forehead before retreating to the stage, face and clothes ruined by your make-up.
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ageofstarkey · 8 months
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untitled snippet: band!marauders x new-to-the-band!reader
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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
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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.”
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bruisedboys · 6 months
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remus who needs to make eye contact with reader when talking bc she has his full attention but she tries averting her gaze and he’s Tall so he does that thing where he bends his head down/chases her eyes so they maintain contact
ugh this!!!!!!!! he definitely does this, so hot of him honestly. I didn’t do justice to your idea at all but I gave it a shot!!!
rockstar!remus lupin x fem!reader
Remus gets off stage and he’s somehow a billion times hotter than he was two hours ago. It’s cruel. He’s the kind of handsome that begs to be looked at. You don’t blame his screaming fans. Not when you’d definitely be one of them if it weren’t for your lucky position of the bassists girlfriend.
“Hey,” Remus says, slinging his bass over his shoulder as he jogs towards you. His headset dangles around his neck, makeup smudged under his eyes and his hair in disarray, and yet he heads straight for you, brushing away a couple of techies who try to wave him down. He comes to a halt in front of you, still buzzing with onstage energy. “Can I hug you?”
“Yeah,” you nod, breathless and he’s only said a few words. He’s so handsome you can’t think straight. He hugs you hard, and you don’t even care that he’s sweating buckets. His arms cage you, strong and heavy, and he smells like sweat and musk, his cologne subtle but heady.
“You played amazing,” you tell him as his hands roam your back, one between your shoulder blades and another at the small of your back, pressing you in.
Remus pulls back, hot hands sliding to hold you by the shoulders. He squeezes you, calloused thumbs at your collar. He’s smiling so big you’re sure his cheeks hurt. “
“Cause I had my lucky charm,” he says, chucking you under the chin. “I’m so glad you came, pretty girl.”
Heat flares behind your cheeks. You can’t believe he’s real, can’t believe he’s this handsome and calling you pretty and telling you he’s glad you came to his show. As if you’d ever even think about being anywhere else tonight but here. You dip your head so you don’t have to look at his handsome face, opting instead for the dirty backstage floor.
“I’m glad I came too,” you mumble, toeing a rogue piece of confetti with the tip of your shoe.
Remus follows you down, bending to your height and tilting his head up so you’re forced to look him in the eyes. He’s gorgeous and he’s lovely and he’s so close you could kiss him.
“What did you say, sweetheart?” He asks, lips quirked, his mouth so close that his warm breath fans over your lips. “Can’t hear you when you get all shy like that.”
You groan. He’s awful. “I’m not shy,” you protest, though you are, especially with him. You stick your chin out in a show of fake confidence. “I said I’m glad I came too.”
Remus’ grins and thumbs your jaw, then cards a hand through his messy, sweaty hair. “Mm, I bet you are, sweetheart.”
You know he’s teasing. You don’t mind it as much as you should.
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fawngirl222 · 5 months
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meeting rockstar!remus
summary - you meet rockstar!remus for the first time, and he's more than infatuated with you.
pairing: remus lupin x reader
word count: 0.4k
genre: fluff
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You squirm in your seat, uncomfortable at the many wandering eyes on you. You lost your friend a while ago, probably surfing through the crowds.
"Hey, you." You can't really make out the face in the dark, "What's a pretty girl like you doing here?" It's Remus Lupin, bassist of the Marauders. He's way out of your league, socially and physically.
He's a lot more attractive than you thought. His sandy brown hair falls in front of his face and a large red scar covers his nose but it's cute. He slips right beside you on the empty sofa. "I'm just with my friend— but I can't seem to spot her." You frowned,
"That's alright." He flashes you a warm smile. "What's your name?"
Your name rolls smoothly off his tongue, his presence is equally scary as exciting. "I'm Remus." He seems rather intrigued by your presence, engaging with you more than anybody here.
"I know. Isn't this your... party?"
"After party for our album. You a fan?"
"Just a little, heard a few"
"Moony! Who's the pretty girl" You blushed, it was the rest of his boy band. James Potter and Sirius Black.
"Pretty?" You questioned.
If your friend was here, she'd faint. You were a bit embarrassed, you didn't exactly belong here and you weren't even semi-popular.
"Just met her. She's lovely."
"James, and Sirius." They both put out their hand, "Hi, I know, my friend is obsessed with you guys."
"And you're not?"
"I'm a fan, a bit. I've heard some stuff, it's really good."
"She's a keeper." You felt flustered, not used to the attention. Maybe they had, maybe they always went up to "pretty girls" but until five minutes ago you never considered yourself one.
He senses your nerves, and his hand reaches out for yours. He searches for something behind those eyes, "Hey, wanna get out of here?" It's a bit impulsive for him. To ask a girl he's never seen before, especially him and with his status. He has a feeling about you though.
"Sure." A part of you feels bad for ditching your friend back at the party, and the other doesn't when you see her hanging off the arm of Sirius Black.
"You're very pretty"
"What?"
"Back there, you questioned it. You're very pretty."
You blush, "I think you're pretty too."
You think you can’t get any redder than you already are, but he pulls you in the big limousine and holds your hand tight and he says, “Management is gonna kill me, but how can I resist? You’re the prettiest girl I’ve seen here.”
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author's note: i'm scared of posting this, it's my first writing in a while:,) I adore rockstar remus though.. just something short and sweet
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You said you'd stay with us (you swore you'd still be you)
absinthe makes the heart grow fonder - series masterlist here
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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
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"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."
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reysdriver · 27 days
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Exit Stage Right | R.L
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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!
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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.
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bettysupremacy · 11 months
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Your girl
Rockstar!Remus x reader
summary: Remus finds his girl in the backyard of a party, alone.
word count: 1.8k words
a/n I’m not satisfied with this but oh well!
The once bustling, loud, party now seems dimmer and less intense as he cautiously walks away into the silent of the night.  He can hear the wet asphalt crunch beneath his boots, the brushing of wind flowing past his ears. It’s quiet and calm the way it is after a rain, but something sticks in his tummy. A nerve, an upset, a fear, he might find his girl out here alone. 
“Sweetheart?” His voice is louder than he intends in the quiet of this fancy backyard, and it has his nose wrinkling. “Y/N, honey, are you out here?” And god, he prays she isn’t. Alone. Tipsy drunk. He walks on. 
The show before this had been loud and packed. A bustling crowd, bigger than they had anticipated. 
He can’t pretend he hadn’t been aching to see her in the crowd, that sweet longing she pulled from him so many times before, but she hadn’t wanted to accept the tickets initially. Guilt gnawed at her for not paying the 429 pounds other floor guests fought for. But, as Remus had said, special tickets for a special girl.
Here now, he feels the same ache he felt when he couldn’t find her in the crowd. Sick and pounding as he turns the twists and winds of a path through the tall gaudy flowers and statues. It’s a nightmare, really, but finding her on the floor, in her white sundress, unbothered by the way the wet floor stains into the pearly cloth, is even more so.
“What are you doing out here, honey?” 
The party grows louder and Remus prays they don’t bring it outside. It’s private out here and Remus likes that. Quiet of the eyes of fans he’s collected over his hard work and music, private of Sirius who dragged his friends to this after party, and James who’d surely tease. 
She turns, startled at the intrusion, her head spins. Was she supposed to be dizzy whilst sitting? “Doesn’t it just taste fresh out here?” 
He inhales deeply, playing along, though it really does taste fresher out here. “I guess it does.” He takes a moment. The air between them is quiet again. “You’ll stain your pretty dress.” 
She shrugs. He’ll just give her his jacket anyways. “Tired, my feet hurt, want another drink.”
He laughs. “In that order?”
“Tired, cause my feet hurt, ‘nother drink, cause it’ll fix it.” She fixes. He grunts as he sets himself in front of her. She can’t admit how happy this makes her. He takes her arms in his hands. “Liked your set.”
“Yeah?” He tilts his head. His thumbs press right below the crease of her elbows. It has her greedy, selfish for more. She wants more.
“Yeah. You looked hot onstage.”
He laughs a startled laugh, it’s slightly disheveled, but the fact that she made him smile is an accomplishment in itself she thinks. “Thank you.” She looks down at where his fingertips dance over her outstretched arms lightly. Up and down, he traces patterns into her skin.
“Feels good.” She mumbles. 
“I know. Lets get you inside, yeah?” He pauses his ministrations on her arm. “Lily was worried sick when she couldn’t find you.” 
Lily wasn’t the first to notice she’d been missing, but Remus can’t bare to tell her he’d been looking for her in a group of people practically begging to get a word in to him. 
She grabs his wrist, slightly pushing him to keep his gentle rubbing. “You weren’t?”
“Darling, you know I was the most worried.” It’s true.
“Wanna stay out here.” She breathes, almost ignoring his dangerously romantic profession. 
“Why?” 
“S’nice.” Not because this is the first time she’s been alone with him in weeks. Not because when she’s around him it gives her the biggest head rush she’s ever experienced. It mixes with the alcohol and she can’t tell which is which. Is it the tequila shots Mary coaxed her into doing, or is it the 6’3 bassist crouched in front of her like a giant trying to befriend human?
He sighs, shrugging off his jacket. “Can’t let my girl freeze to death.” 
And the thing about it is, it’s so simple to say what you want when you’re not thinking about it. Right? Cause if he had caught himself, If he had thought before his word choice, he wouldn’t have let that Freudian slip, slip.
Her face does something funny as he helps her arms through the arm holes. 
“What’s it?” His eyebrow cocks. 
“Your girl?” 
He scoffs out a disbelieved laugh. “Oh, that you pick up?” He stands up, unable to look at his jeans in fear of the grass stains he’d see on them. She might have his jacket but he surely doesn’t. “Up, lets get you inside.” 
She doesn’t give him her hands. “Your girl, Rem?” 
“That’s what I said, isn’t it?” He gruffs, shaking his hands a little, hoping she’ll catch the memo and use his weight to pull herself up. Except she doesn’t. She grins this big dopey smile, eyes crinkling as she hides her alcohol pink cheeks from Remus. 
“Wanted to be your girl.” 
He feels as if his brain has lagged. “You are my girl, gorgeous.” 
Her chest feels tight with an emotion only he can pull from her. “Am I?” 
“Why’d you think I’ve been calling you every night for months?” 
“Thought you wanted someone to flirt with.” 
“Babe,” he frowns at the admission as he crouches down again, “I’ve been flirting with you because you’re my girl.” 
“Oh.” 
His chest cracks a little. His warm dry hands find their way to her cold cheeks, they’re worn and rough from his bass. “What made you think that?”
“I dunno.” She trails off.
“You didn’t come to that conclusion by yourself.” He shakes his head and she shrugs. “Tell me when you’re sober. Though I fear you’d be more honest with me now.” 
“Mary said something,” she starts, before pausing, letting him use his weight to pull her off the ground. “She said ‘if a boy likes you, you know.’ And I could never tell with you.”
“You couldn’t tell?” 
She huffs a laugh, dramatically putting her body weight on him, hugging his chilly torso. “You’re kinda hard to read, Rem.” 
He stands there as she nuzzles her cheek in his chest. His hands splay on her back and he feels her smile. “We can talk more about this tomorrow.” She nods. She revels in the newness of this level of affection.
“Can I show you a patch of flowers I saw when I fell earlier?” Her head tilts up to look at him.
“You fell?!” 
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edenalix · 1 year
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I've been reading The Cadence of part-time poets by @motswolo and was really inspired by the overall vibe
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luveline · 6 months
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hi jade!!! i was wondering if i could request a bassist!remus x roadie!reader fic in which they spend time together on their day off from touring? maybe reader is totally surprised that he even asked her?
hi gorgeous!! modern au, fem 1k
cw vague adult theme, mdni 
"There you are," Remus says, as though he's said it a hundred times before, and he'll say it a hundred times again. "I've been looking for you." 
As a roadie (merchandising, mostly), there's no reason for Remus to know who you are, nor care, but he seems to like you anyhow. And there's nowhere for you to hang out in your downtime beside hotel lobby's or your literal assigned seat in the minivan, so here you are, in your pyjamas, laying on a random lobby couch with a book smushed to your chest. 
"What?" you ask, wiping the sleep from your eyes. 
"I've been looking for you. You weren't in your room." 
"I share my room with three other girls, one who has sleep apnea." The muscles in your back sing like plucked strings as you sit up. "It's quieter here… You're looking for me?" 
"Mm. Come on. We'll go get a late dinner." 
"I'm in my pyjamas." 
Remus gestures down at himself. "I thought you might be." 
He's dressed down too. Every roadie has their thing —it's hard, learning so many names at once, and eventually people begin to typecast one another as their most defining feature. Yours, to your indifference, seems to have become your more comfortable clothing choices. You're not gross, everything's clean, but is everything acceptable attire for going out into the world? 
"No one will even notice they're pyjamas," he assumes you, holding out his hand expectantly. "They look like jogging bottoms." 
"Remus, they're lavender." 
He pulls your hand toward his chest, encouraging you to stand. "They're nice." 
He ferries you out of the hotel, and you thank your lucky stars you wore your converse rather than the hotel slippers. He's clearly thought about this, offering you a hoodie (your size, clearly swiped from the merchandise van, 'marauders' written in jagged lettering across your shoulders like bat wings) as he explains the details of your trip. 
"First we'll get dinner. Then see a film in the cinema, if you want to? They have the new Exorcist." 
"I love horror." 
"I know." He nods to himself. "And then I have to buy you fresh donuts. James says they're the only way to eat them." 
"You don't have to buy me anything." 
"Sorry, I should say it differently. I'd love to buy you fresh donuts. If that's what you want to do." 
You peek at him from the corner of your eye. "I would've stayed in the lobby if I didn't want to come out with you." 
"In that case," he murmurs, wrapping his arm around your shoulders. 
This is worse than flirting. It feels like an initiation, or a turned tide. You smile at him from under his arm and he visibly pauses, falters, before his own smile hooks and he walks forward with a little more purpose. 
The day moves on as promised. You eat a quick dinner at a mid range restaurant before he takes you to the cinema, where he insists he doesn't want any popcorn but eats half of yours anyways. Then he takes you for donuts, and the entire time, you're thinking, what does he want from me? If Remus wanted sex he could fuck a groupie. Half the techs would crawl into bed with him if he asked. Maybe he's just gentlemanly? 
But why would he wanna fuck you? Ignoring any self-esteem issues, you're in cuffed bottoms and bare-faced, and he has no reason to believe you'd be any good in bed. 
He might want something slower, he decides. It's easier to believe when he asks if he can hold your hand on the walk home. 
"What?" you ask, sure you heard him wrong. 
"Can I?" he says, offering you his palm. 
It's different from his pulling earlier. You give him your hand and he squeezes his fingers between yours slowly, as though savouring the feeling.
You shake your head. "Was this…" 
Remus waits for you to finish. It's hard to ask under the weight of his gaze, happy but with that air of knowing you can't quite crack. He always seems so put together, even when he's asking for things, like any answer you give is one he's prepared for. 
"Was this a date?" you force out. 
"That depends. Did it go well?" 
"I would've said yes, if you asked me." 
Remus leans in like he's telling a secret, his voice hushed to match. "I know," he says gently, the tiniest hint of smugness threaded in the slight scratch of his voice. "That's mostly why I didn't ask." 
"Mostly?" 
"I couldn't face rejection. Not from you." His eyes light with an emotion you can't name. "But if you still want to reject me, I'll cope. It might be good for me, actually, it'll give me some material. Nothing makes for better music than losing a pretty girl." 
You fluster at his wording. "I would've worn something nice," you say apologetically. "If I'd known. I would've made an effort to look nice." 
"You always look nice. You think I'm put off by your pyjamas?" 
"Stop," you mumble, mortification creeping in. I can't believe I just went on a date with a rockstar in my pyjamas. 
"It's cute. You're cute, I love that you can fall asleep anywhere–" 
"Stop!" 
Remus laughs and pulls you that last inch into his side, elbow to elbow, hip to hip. "I can't. Teasing you is half the fun. It's why I haven't mentioned the powdered sugar on your lip." 
You sigh and turn your face away from him, wiping your lip with your sleeve. "You always do this." 
"Don't wipe it off, I'll get it. It'll taste sweet." 
You take your hand out of his. "Did you want this to be a date? I'll change my mind." 
He's kinder after that, and when he rubs your shoulder like he knows you need it, you almost pass out. 
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suugarbabe · 2 months
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Rockstar!Sirius Black has me in a chokehold. I’m obsessed with my wife @finalgirllx and thankful for the work she put in for me for these two edits and I hope everyone is pulling their hair out at them as much as me.
This little blurb is for my second wife @thatdammchickennugget ‘s hogmarch challenge.
Prompt: fire whiskey / are you speaking parseltongue or am I really that drunk
Warnings: fluff; mentions of bar/drinking;
You don’t really know how you got here. At this party that is. One day your muggle friend is begging you to come to a concert with her. Two weeks later she has you sleeping on a side-walk waiting to get in. “I really want to get barricade,” she says. And you love her so you comply. When you manage to get it, you’re just as shocked as she is. Arms crossed on the bar, elbows hanging over the barricade as music plays from the speakers while everyone waits for the band to appear.
You assume it’s a four person group; you see a drum set, a keyboard, a guitar with a mic stand and a bass guitar. You’re wracking your brain for the name of the band, your friends mentioned it probably a million times in the last hour alone but you’ve been so focused on not a Avada-ing any of the other millions of girls around who seem to want to keep pushing against your back to get closer to whoever this band seems to be.
It’s when the curtain falls that your heart nearly stops. It had to be a coincidence, right? The fact that this band happens to have the same name as the infamous group of pranking boys from your school years. But all your nervous fears are confirmed when they start strolling on to the stage, you recognize the others in an instant, but the one that catches your eye most intensely slings the guitar over his shoulder, a shit eating smirk gracing his lips as his tucks his hair behind his ear.
“Blimey, what a turn out, yeah lads?” The guitarist turns slightly where he stands, glancing at his friends behind him who are all nodding and shouting, pumping their fists in the air with the screams of fans in front of them. The guitarist turns back towards the crowd, eyes scanning over the sea of people until they come to the front and lock with yours. Your friend besides you starts shaking with giddy excitement as he speaks his next words into the mic, her arm hooking with yours. But you can’t tear your eyes away from his piercing gaze, “In case any of you’ve forgotten, we’re The Marauders and-”
Being barricade had its benefits because you heard the drummer shout, “Oi, Pads, get on with it, will ya, let’s give em a show, yeah?” Sirius laughs into the mic and your thrust back to being seventeen and pining after the long haired boy at the back of your advanced potions class. “Alright, Prongs, don’t lose yer head, mate. Who’s ready to fucking rock out?” Sirius strummed his guitar and the crowd erupted in cheers and screams. The entire concert was a bit of a blur. One because you didn’t know any of their songs, but two because it seemed like any time Sirius looked towards the front of the crowd, he looked right at you, and your friends and the girls surrounding you seemed to lose their mind at the concept.
When the concert finally ended you watched your old classmates take in the cheers and praise. James threw both his drumsticks into the crowd, Remus tossed a few picks as well. Reggie stepped from behind the keyboard, taking his setlist with him and passing it to the security guard to give to a random girl. Sirius, however, seemed to have a different plan. The girls around you seemed to be panting with anticipation as Sirius took a marker from a stage hand and laid down on his stomach, pulling the cap from the marker with his teeth before writing on his setlist on the ground. Capping the pen, he pulled the setlist off the ground slowly, folding the tape over the edges before folding the setlist into fours.
What really made everyone around you go into a frenzy was Sirius jumping down from the stage and walking straight up to you at barricade and holding the paper towards you with a smile. “Here,” Sirius grabbed your wrist, placing the folded setlist into your hand, “open it when you leave the venue. Was nice seeing you again, love. S’been too long since the last time.” Sirius then turned his attention to the people around you, shaking hands and signing a few autographs but it all sounded muffled to yours ears as it seemed like all the blood was rushing to your head as you were rushing out of the crowd, you friend close behind.
“Uhm, hello? Are you gonna tell me what the fuck that was back there?” You were walking as fast as you could without sprinting, your friend hot on your heels. “Y/n/n!” You turned abruptly to face her, her stopping roughly in her tracks. “What!” You were nearly screaming before taking a deep breath, “I’m sorry, erm, I’m sorry. I just…I haven’t seen those guys in a long time and it was just a little…overwhelming.” Your friend nodded, the grin never leaving her face, “How do you even know them, can we open the letter now, what does it say?”
You rolled your eyes, grabbing the note from your pocket. Unfolding it you finally answered her questions, “We went to school together, believe it or not they were very popular and I was…well…not. I had a few classes with the others and well Sirius was…friends with some of my friends, let’s say. Honestly I didn’t even expect him to recognize me once I realized they were the band we were seeing and…” your thoughts and words seem to die on your lips as your eyes scanned the setlist in your hands, Sirius’s sloppy scrawl strewn across in black marker. Your friend raised her eyebrows impatiently, turning your hands towards her so she could see what had you at such a loss, a gasp leaving her as she did so. “Is that a fucking address…”
So maybe you did know how you got to this party, your friend begging and pleading until you agreed to go. “It’s only polite, he did invite you after all,” she had said. You knew her agenda was more so to gain an opportunity to see the boys up close, so you didn’t argue when as soon as you entered the private bar she immediately went on the hunt. You, on the other hand, went straight for a drink, or two, or four. You were working on yet another firewhiskey when a rough voice spoke your last name from behind you. Turning around, you attempted to control your blush, “Black. Long time no see.” You did your best to keep your tone casual, like your heart wasn’t beating out of your chest.
Per expected Sirius was nothing but charming and smooth, “I didn’t expect to see a friend in the crowd tonight, you caught me slightly off guard I have to admit.” You clasped onto your drink with both hands, hoping the coolness of the glass would offset the heat that was rapidly spreading through your body, “You consider us friends? I didn’t even think you’d recognize me.” Sirius’s gaze turned what you could only describe as tender, “I would’ve failed Advanced Charms if you hadn’t put up with me for two whole terms. If spending endless weeks in the library didn’t make us friends, what then developed between us, nothing?”
No, just my raging school girl crush on you is all. You shook your head, mouth opening and slightly stammering, no explanation coming to mind. “Pads, you’re not scaring y/n/n away are you? Gonna make us not see her for another three years again?” Sirius huffed a slightly annoyed breath, “Yeah, Moony, the reason we haven’t seen her is strictly my fault, not that our band took off or anything.” Sirius jabs a thumb over his shoulder as he glances back at you as if to say, the nerve of this guy. “She didn’t even think I’d recognize her, or considered us friends! Can you believe that?”
The taller boy greeted you with a warm and familiar smile, the scar stretching over his top lip thinning with the action, “Well I certainly don’t blame her for the latter. But we’re still friends, aren’t we, dove?” Remus took a step forward, wrapping you in a tight and friendly embrace. “Hi, Rem,” you mumbled just loud enough over the bar music. Remus was gruffly pulled away from you to reveal a pouting face with glasses and a mop of curly hair, “Not consider us friends? Did seven agonizing years of potions together mean absolutely nothing to you?”
You couldn’t help but roll your eyes at the dramatics, “Hi, Jamie. ‘ve missed you.” You open your arms for a hug and are quickly embraced in a bear-like squeeze, “Missed you too shortcake. Been too long.” A second body joins your hug from behind, “Yeah, it’s been too long.” James pushes him off before letting you go, “Whydya have to do that Reg, you ambushed my hug.” Regulus opens his mouth to argue when a throat clearing catches all of your guys' attention. You turn to see your friend clearly doing her best not to freak out at the scene before her. You turn the the boys, pushing your friend slightly in front of you, “Guys this is my friend Órlaith. She brought me to your show. Big fan, her. Órlaith, this is Reg, Jamie, Rem and Sirius.”
The four boys all flashed award winning smiles while your friend managed a meek ‘hi’ and a slight wave. “So you didn’t just have classes with them, you were friends with the fucking Marauders,” Órlaith wacked your arm, causing James and Regulus to burst out in laughter. Remus leaned in close to your friend, a hand shielding one side of his mouth while pointing a thumb back at James, “Y/n/n, here actually helped make sure this one graduated on time.” James crossed his arms in mock offense, “Is he talking shite love? Moony, don’t fill her head with lies we’ve only just met.”
Sirius slung his arm over her shoulder, whispering in her ear, “Actually, I’d like to catch up with Y/l/n. You mind if I steal her for a moment? Think you can watch these gits, keep them in line for me while I’m away?” She gave a timid nod and Sirius flashed her his knee weakening grin. Remus shot Sirius a knowing look, one you completely missed as you were too busy focusing on Sirius lacing his fingers in yours and dragging you towards a roped off section of the bar. You tried to will your palm to not be clammy as you downed the last of your drink, setting the glass on a passing table. As Sirius led you up the few steps and past the velvet rope he settled you both down at a table in the corner.
With a wave of his wrist the music and sound of the crowd disappeared. “See? A perfect silencing charm. Wouldn’t have been able to do that without your help in years past, friend,” Sirius emphasized the last word, wiggling his eyebrows. You laughed slightly, eyes rolling, “Yes, I’m very proud of you. However, that hasn’t stopped the gaggle of girls staring at us.” You motioned toward at least four women you could see clearly shooting daggers your way at a private talk with the leading man. Sirius shrugged his shoulders, eyes never leaving your direction, “I don’t care about them, my focus is on you.”
Your face seemed to stay in a permanent state of blush with Sirius’s full attention solely on you. “Now tell me, sweetheart. Did you really not consider us friends all those years? I mean, I thought we were pretty close. If I recall we’ve drunkenly fallen asleep on a few couches and floors together. Who else does that besides very good friends?” You nervously summon a drink before you, taking the glass and trying to hide half your face behind it while you take a long gulp. Your eyes scan over Sirius’s face, taking in the changes, or lack thereof, from the last time you saw him.
He still has that same boyish charm, that grin the tends to sneak onto his face when he knows he’s being charming. His hair is still gorgeous, long and flowing, though maybe slightly greasier than your school years, but you’re sure that’s part of his rockstar aesthetic. His forearms now adorn multiple tattoos and from what you know of Sirius there’s probably more hidden elsewhere. He had a few more piercings now, and his jawline was more refined now that he was no longer a teenager, but what remained exactly the same was always your favorite part of him; his eyes.
Sirius always had the most captivating eyes; a deep russet brown that seemed to change with his mood and whether he was telling the truth or not. Either that or you had just spent so much time staring at him you began to figure out his tells without anyone else realizing. “You’re telling the truth, you really considered us good friends didn’t you?” Sirius laughed lightly, looking down at his lap before meeting your eyes once more, “Yes, I’m telling the truth.” You shook your head, “That wasn’t a question, it was a statement, I can tell when you’re lying. I just can’t believe you’re being serious.”
“Well I’m always Sirius, darling.” You rolled your eyes at his favorite pun, going to bring your drink back to your lips. Sirius, however, had other plans, stealing to glass from your hands and downing the rest himself. You opened your mouth to scold him but he got his words out first, “How can you – blimey, love no mixer really? Merlin’s fucking beard – how can you tell when I’m lying? I like to think I’m quite subtle at hiding the truth.” You sat up a bit straighter, tucking your legs underneath you on the couch. Normally you would never admit anything, especially not to Sirius himself, but your filter seemed to be turned off thanks to the many firewhiskey’s now running through your system.
You leaned your elbow on the back of the couch, facing Sirius now with your head resting against your fist, “Your eyes turn a shade or two darker when you’re lying. Normally they’re just this beautiful deep brown color that looks like the sun is shining directly on them, even when you’re inside and there’s not even a window in sight. But when you’re lying it’s like all the mischief you’ve got cooking in your brain is overheating and it deepens the color.” If you weren’t feeling so tipsy you probably would’ve noticed the deep blush that spread over Sirius’s cheeks. But being himself he couldn’t let you stop there, “What else have you seemed to notice over the years, huh sweet girl?”
Subconsciously you knew you’d regret it in the morning, but your ability to stop your mouth from rambling seemed to be null. “You tend to chew on your top lip when you’re concentrating, not the entire thing, just one of the corners. You did it tonight during your guitar solo, which was actually pretty fantastic. I'm very proud of you, Siri. And I only noticed you do that because it’s different from other people, usually people bite their bottom lip, but you bite your top,” Sirius touched his top lip with his fingertips as you continued, “And I know when you’re laughing just to be polite and when you’re laughing for real because your fake laugh is this polite little chuckle where you nod your head to make the other person think you’re really paying attention, but your real laugh is so much better. You throw your head back, and your hair falls from your face and it’s real hearty and deep and your smile stays bright for moments afterwards.” You let out a long sigh, your eyes keeping this distance look to them like you were recalling an exact moment for each aspect you just described. “Merlin, I was just so in…I just had the biggest crush on you back then.”
Sirius blinked a few times in disbelief, shaking his head and trying to clear his thoughts because there was definitely no way he heard what he just thought he heard, “I’m sorry, love. Are you speaking parseltongue or am I really that drunk?” You scoffed slightly, “Excuse me?” Sirius quickly held his hands up in defense, “No, no! I just meant that – oh for Godric’s sake, I’m gonna muck this up I just know it–” You grabbed his wrists, effectively stopping his spiraling tangent, “Sirius!” He looked up at you, eyes meeting yours and just like you said, they looked like the sun was hitting them directly despite being in the back corner of a dark bar, “I never needed help with charms.”
Your face contorted in confusion, “Sorry, erm, what?” Sirius closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. He opened his eyes once more, making sure you were looking back at him so you would see he was telling the truth, “I never needed help with charms, I would fuck up spells on purpose because I wanted to spend more time with you.” You shook your head, “But Remus said…”
“I lied to Moony,” Sirius cut you off, “Well, I tried to lie to him at first. I told him I was failing and I asked him to ask you to be my tutor but the bloody git knows everything, saying shit like ‘I know you’re at the top of our class Sirius meh meh meh’, so I asked him to lie for me.” You shook your head, “Why would you do that?” Sirius placed his hands on either side of your face, your hands still holding his wrists, “Because I had an insanely huge crush on you that I kept trying to deny and Moony could see it a mile away. I’m surprised you missed it with everything else you seemed to notice.” You smiled at him, a real genuine relaxed smile, then he spoke again, “Past tense probably isn’t the right usage. After seeing you tonight, I can humbly admit that all those feelings are very much still here. You believe me, don’t you?”
Sirius tilted your head up so you were looking directly at him. He widened his eyes dramatically, staring at you intensely and causing you to giggle. You squinted your eyes at him briefly, making it look like you were really studying him, “Hmm..clear as day. Yes, Siri, I believe you.” Sirius let out a long breath, “Thank merlin, because I’ve been dying to do this since I was on stage.” Sirius’s lips met yours with a gentle fervent, intensifying only when you fisted the front of his t-shirt, pulling him harder into you. You pulled apart only when you were short of breath, both panting heavily. “Remus is going to lose his mind,” Sirius chuckled, grin never leaving his face. You glanced over his shoulder, flicking your wrist and breaking the silencing charm only to be met with cheers and whistles so loud they floated over the rustle of the bar, “I think he already has, they all have.” Sirius turned, seeing his friends and bandmates making their way over. He turned back to you, a cheeky grin on his lips, “Okay, kiss me again, just once more before they get here. Once they do I just know James is gonna talk your ear off about the whole thing.” You giggled, biting your bottom lip before grasping the back of his neck, pulling his lips towards yours once more.
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sorenphelps · 2 months
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he’s clueless why everyone starts to take off their clothes when he invites them to see his stamp record collection
sort of a continuation of this
bonus:
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R: so you meant it seriously… uhm, this is awkward…
S: well, i am always Sirius
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ageofstarkey · 8 months
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i’m doing it 😳
also why is it so hard to pick a title i can’t do this
(anyways, read a snippet here!)
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ddejavvu · 1 year
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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."
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lovings4turn · 9 months
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☆ introducing : rockstar!marauders
+ both sfw and nsfw thoughts ; just a messy ramble
rockstar!sirius . . . the lead singer
— sirius knows how to captivate an audience and uses it to his advantage. he makes sure you're front and centre at every show, so he can ensure your eyes never stray from him. any time he sings a particularly flirty or sexual lyric, he's shooting you a wink, making sure everybody in the venue knows exactly who's on his mind at that moment.
— before going on stage, sirius likes to make the most of every minute he has with you. many supply closets have been tainted by sloppy make out sessions, and sirius has had you propped up against a door whilst he fucks into you more times than you can count. once, you were interrupted by james' fist banging against the door, complaining that sirius had to be on in one minute, and to please saving the fucking for after the show.
rockstar!remus . . . the bassist
— remus is quietly confident - he's not as animated as sirius or james, but he's confident in what he does. bobs his head along to the beat, long fingers plucking the baseline that he feels reverberating through his chest. he's got it pretty much mastered, not needing to pay too much attention to where his fingers need to be, which gives him all the more reason to find your eye in the crowd and give you a sly grin.
— when you make the joke that 'bass players do it deeper', he wastes no time in getting you alone. unable to even make it home, he'll have you bent over the dressing table and unable to talk within minutes, his thrusts slow and deep as he mumbles in your ear about how well you're taking him.
rockstar!james . . . the lead guitarist
— james thrives on the reactions he gets from performing a particularly tricky riff, never able to wipe a cocky grin from his face after completing any impressive solos. he's one to strut around the stage as he plays, sometimes bobbing around sirius as he's singing a chorus.
— he uses his skills to his advantage, though, knowing you can never tear your eyes away from his hands whenever he's onstage. makes plenty of jokes about just how talented he is with his fingers, and how they have more uses than travelling up and down a fretboard. he'd be more than happy to show you exactly how well he can use his fingers - all you have to do is ask.
rockstar!regulus . . . the drummer
— regulus enjoys the fact that his kit is always positioned at the back of the stage. it means he pretty much fades away as everyone else focuses on the other members - everyone apart from you, of course. he acts as though you're the only person looking at him, and makes sure that the muscles in his arms flex just enough to be seen from your position in the front row.
— he tries to teach you how to play, once. though thanks to the way his thigh bounces every time he steps on the bass drum pedal, the lesson is soon abandoned in favour of you riding his thigh, head thrown back as he brings you to your orgasm.
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remuslovebot · 10 months
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rockstar!remus with clingy and drunk reader pls pls pls 🫶🫶🫶
of course!!! omg I love this idea
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𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐲 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 | 𝐑.𝐋
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summary : at one of the marauders after parties, you have a little too much to drink.
warnings : not proof read, major fluff
paring: remus lupin x fem!reader
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Remus had just performed a sold out concert with his fellow band mates — the Marauders. Now, he was at an after party, filled to the brim with groupies, celebrities, music producers, etc. But he only wanted to find you, to take you home and sleep.
He was exhausted and as much as he loved being famous and well known, Remus enjoyed performing and making music more than going to parties.
The sandy haired boy attempted to find you in the crowd, but alas could not. Where did you go? He thought, turning every corner as if it was a labyrinth. With every part of Sirius’ mansion, more people were in his way.
Meanwhile, Marlene, Dorcas, and Alice had taken you after the concert. The girls wanted to get to the after party as soon as possible. Alice had her hopes up to see the new A-list actor, Frank Longbottom. Marlene and Dorcas, already together and in the music industry themselves, promised to introduce the two.
While Alice was chatting up Frank, and Marlene and Dorcas were busy making out in a broom closet, you had gotten bored and missed Remus. So you indulged in a few drinks.
Stepping outside, the cold night air made Remus smile. Inside the house was hot and sticky. He smiled when he spotted you, a red solo cup in your hand. You were laughing and Remus walked towards you.
“Hey love,” he said, a hand going on the small of your back. You turned to him and smiled drunkenly.
“Remus!” You exclaimed, a crooked smile taking over your face. “I missed you so much! I’ve been looking for you since the concert ended!”
The boy could tell that you’d had a few drinks and we’re definitely not sober.
“I’ve been looking for you too Y/n,” he replied. “Want to head home?” He asked.
“No!” You whined, your head dropping. “Wanna stay and play beer pong!” You smiled.
Remus could never say no to you and especially wouldn’t say no to the cute smile you wore at the moment.
“Alright lovie, one round of beer pong and then I’m taking you home,” he said, compromising.
You nodded, it only being fair. “Oh alright,” you said, standing up and almost losing you balance. But not to worry, Remus was there to catch you in an instant.
“Are you sure you can play beer pong like this?” He asked with a little smirk. You pouted and looked a little annoyed. The crinkle on your forehead—that Remus adored — showed.
“Yes. I can play.” You insisted.
One round of beer pong later, you had sobered up some but not entirely. Remus was by your side the entire game, helping you decide which shots to make. Which James wasn’t very happy about, seeing as competitive he was. Frank and Alice were near the table but not big fans of the game, as they were too busy falling in love. James won the game, winning over a kiss from Lily.
At the end of the game you were beat and still a little drunk. You wanted to go home. As you were leaning against Remus for support, he looked down at you.
“I think we should head home love,” he said, grabbing you by the waist and picking you up into his arms. You nudged your head into his neck. “Alright, Remmy,” you mumbled tiredly.
Once in the car, you passed out. Remus laughed to himself at your drunken state, knowing full well you would be hung over in the morning.
“Come on love, we’re home,” he said, unbuckling your seat belt. You woke up, a bit drowsy and super clingy.
“I’m tried Remmy,” you pouted, leaning into his strong body. He wrapped his arms around you and led you into the house.
“We’re going to get you to bed lovie. Promise,” he said, kissing your forehead.
Once at your bedroom, Remus sat you down on your shared bed and helped you into your sleep clothes. He gave you a glass of water aswell. All the while, you reached out for Remus’ touch.
“Wanna hold you,” you pouted, already in your night clothes. Which consisted of one of Remus’ old sweaters and sleep shorts.
Remus undressed himself and hopped into bed just wearing his boxers. He pulled you to him immediately, waisting no time in holding you.
“Well maybe I wanna hold you?” He teased, kissing your hair.
You turned to him and smiled lazily, sleepiness coming over you. “You did so well tonight Remus. Greatest rockstar ever!” You said, kissing his nose.
Remus wrapped you tighter in his arms and kissed your forehead. “Thanks Y/n, performed for you and only you,” he said, looking at you like you were the only thing that mattered to him.
Because you were.
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A/n: hoped you liked this! Don’t forget to reblog and like, love you guys 🥹 also I’m slow with fulfilling requests but please still send them, I will get to them i promise <3
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petitemistletoe · 4 months
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rewrite your elvis fic why’d you only call me when you’re high but with one of the marauders?
Title: Why'd You Only Call me When You're High?
Pairing: Sirius Black x Reader
Warnings: smut, angst, drugs, old school rocker vibes
Word Count: 1.9K+
A/N: this could only be written about Sirius I'm sorry! He's so rockstar coded! happy holidays y'all :)
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… The mirror's image, it tells me it's home time
But I'm not finished, 'cause you're not by my side
And as I arrived I thought I saw you leavin', carryin' your shoes
Decided that once again I was just dreamin' of bumpin' into you
… Now it's three in the mornin' and I'm tryin' to change your mind
Left you multiple missed calls and to my message, you reply
"Why'd you only call me when you're high?"
"Hi, why'd you only call me when you're high?"
Sirius finished his line of coke, flipping his head up and sniffing harshly. He gave himself a long look in the mirror. He looked great, obviously: leather jacket over a bare chest, a tangle silver and gold necklaces of varying lengths cascading down his neck to his chest. Most of his tattoos were visible and his pair of leather pants were impossibly tight. His fingers were adorned with a number of rings and his hair was that perfect combination of messed up and carefully styled. His eyeliner was smudged around his eyes and he couldn’t quite tell if his eyes were so dark from the eyeliner or from the lack of sleep. 
Sirius couldn’t remember the last time he had had a solid night of sleep, but that was the nature of touring. Of course his bandmates weren’t like he was. James was boring and married with a kid, who Sirius obviously doted on, but James spent all his time when they weren’t performing or practicing with Lily and Harry. Remus was dating this guy Grant who really got under Sirius’s skin. Was it because Sirius and Remus had had a fling, an excellent mind-blowing fling, and when Remus pushed for more Sirius said no and Remus moved onto Grant? Maybe. Was it because Grant was disgustingly kind and sweet and felt like the absolute antithesis of Sirius? Maybe. Was it because Grant had gotten Remus into tea and biscuits rather than coke and pills? Maybe it was that too. And then there was Peter. Peter, bless his heart, tried his absolute best but the coke made his nose bleed, pills made him constipated, and liquor made him vomit. So most nights after a show, James would go home to Lily and Harry, Remus would go home to Grant, Peter would go home to god knows who (probably his cats or gerbils or whatever), and Sirius would go anywhere but home. 
He had liked groupies, townies, the international girls and guys, but he liked you most of all. You were a bit of a forbidden fruit, you were his brother Regulus’s best friend, but that made it all the more appealing. Sirius only went home, only spent the night in his bed, if he knew you would be there too. 
Sirius dialed your number as he made his way home in the backseat of his limo. He was rolling something that he wasn’t sure if it was a joint or a cigarette as the phone rang. He did a double take as he drove past Newt Scamander’s house. Newt Scamander was an old school rocker, a living legend basically, and even though he was a little past his prime looks-wise, he was still a sex symbol. But it wasn’t just Newt’s house that caused Sirius’s double take, it was the fact that he thought he saw walking out of Newt’s house, carrying your phone in one hand and your heels in the other. Sirius shook the thought from his brain, figuring that he was so high he probably just saw a tree branch or something. Sirius got your voicemail but he knew, despite the late hour, that you were not asleep. He dialed you again. And again. And again. Until finally he heard your voice.
“Why’d you only call me when you’re high?” You sounded annoyed but he just laughed it off as he walked into his house, stepping out of his boots and kicking them off somewhere, stripping his sweaty clothes haphazardly and letting them fall off his body haphazardly. 
“That’s how you answer the phone? No hi?” Sirius teased, falling back on his bed and stretching his sore muscles. 
“Hi.” You said pointedly, “why’d you only call me when you’re high?”
“I’m not high.” Sirius said, taking a long drag of his spliff. 
“It’s three in the morning, Sirius.”
“Come over baby.” Sirius crooned. 
“You’re still talking the same shite you always did.” You were rolling your eyes, Sirius knew you were. 
“It’s harder and harder to get you to listen, baby.” Sirius said, a bite of annoyance coming through. He was on the come down from his earlier line and and was getting irritated. 
“Luckily for you I’m incapable of making alright decisions. I’ll see you in a few.” You disconnected the call. 
Sirius finished his spliff and began to roll another one. There were a few messages on his phone from James, he was probably up at one of those late night feedings for Harry. He started to read through them when he heard his door open and shut and after a few moments you were in his bedroom, crawling your way up the bed towards him. 
“That was fast.” Sirius frowned. Usually it took you at least fifteen minutes to get from your place to his, even in the dead of night when no one was out on the street. 
“You complaining?” You asked, pulling your shirt over your head as you straddled him. Sirius was going to question things more but suddenly your tits were in his face and he forgot all about that. 
… Somewhere darker, talkin' the same shite
I need a partner, well, are you out tonight?
It's harder and harder to get you to listen
More I get through the gears
He buried his face between your tits and groaned,
“This is my favorite place in the absolute world.”
“Well make yourself useful, Black, and stimulate my nipples.” You said, gripping his hair harshly. Sirius obliged, wrapping his lips around one of your hard nipples and his nimble fingers flew to other one, tweaking and pinching it. You were grinding down in his lap against his hard-on until his lips moved from nipples up around the curvature of your breast, then up your clavicle, then up your neck, until he got up to your lips. Before he could connect his lips to yours, you pulled back and made your way down his body and wrapped your hand around his cock. Sirius gasped as you ran your hand between your legs to lubricate it and then started jerking Sirius off. You laid flat on your stomach between Sirius’s legs and continued jerking him as you lightly sucked one of his balls into your mouth. Sirius went from the light gasps to strangled, intense moans and he felt like his lungs were about the collapse. 
“Get up,” he choked out, “I need to be inside you.”
You lifted yourself up and without much warning you seated yourself on Sirius’s cock. Sirius groaned and held your hips hard in place, preventing you from moving. 
“Sirius, come on.” You whined, your nose touching his as you tried to move again. Sirius released his grip and started fucking up into you hard. Sirius lifted his jaw, capturing your lips in a deep kiss. You pulled away harshly, pushing yourself up so you were no longer pressed against his chest. Sirius thought about saying something but then you moved your hips in the most delicious way and he forgot all about it. Sirius pulled you off of him and flipped you over, bending you over so your chest and face were pressed against the mattress and your hips were up in the air. There was a tattoo at the base of your back that had have been new. He pushed into you, his hands grasping your hips like he was about to fall off the edge of a cliff. 
He was close, so so close to finishing, but he was distracted by the tattoo on your back. It looked like a constellation, it was vaguely familiar looking, maybe it was something that he had studied in an astronomy course. One of the stars on the constellations was darker than the rest and it had a small green glow mark around it. 
“Did you snort too much or something? I’m getting rug burn here.” You said, turning and looking over your shoulder at Sirius. Sirius’s eyes snapped back up to yours and as he locked eyes with you he came. He always tried to pull out but he was caught off guard this time that he came inside you.
Incapable of makin' alright decisions, and havin' bad ideas
… Now it's three in the mornin' and I'm tryin' to change your mind
Left you multiple missed calls and to my message you reply
"Why'd you only call me when you're high?”
“Fuck Sirius!” You snapped, jumping off him and running to the bathroom. 
“Sorry,” Sirius murmured. It was weird…that tattoo was so so weird. It felt like something was sitting on chest he was so strangled by the idea that he had seen that exact constellation before.
“Fuck Sirius,” you repeated, walking back into his room and shaking your head, “I gotta get a morning after pill tomorrow.” You walked over to Sirius’s discarded tight leather pants and pulled out a few crumpled up bills that were in his pockets. “This is why I fucking hate having sex with you when you’re high.”
“I’m not high,” Sirius said weakly, still staring at your tattoo as you were bent over digging through his pockets.
“You only ever call me when you’re high.” You said, straightening up and starting to pull on your clothes.
“You aren’t staying?” Sirius felt like he was running out of time.
“I, uh, have to be up in the morning so I need to have an…early night.” You said, not looking Sirius in the eyes. 
“Am I starting to bore you baby?”
"Hi, why'd you only call me when you're high?"
… And I can't see you here, wonderin' where am I
It sort of feels like I'm runnin' out of time
I haven't found all I was hopin' to find
You said you gotta be up in the mornin'
Gonna have an early night
And you're startin' to bore me, baby
“I’m fine, Sirius. I just have an early morning.” You said in a snippier tone than Sirius had ever expected to hear from you.
“What’s that tattoo on your back?” Sirius stormed across the room and grabbed you by the arm harshly. 
“It’s the constellation Leo.” You snapped back, glaring up at Sirius.
“And what’s the glow on that star?” Sirius didn’t know why he was getting so upset but his blood pressure was only continuing to rise as he looked at you and thought about that tattoo.
“You really don’t know?” You smiled cruelly. “You really don’t recognize it.”
“What is it?” Sirius could feel his nose bleeding and he wiped at it. There was a streak of smeared blood on his cupid’s bow.
“It’s the star Regulus.” You grinned.
“Why’d you have to be such a bitch?” Sirius screamed.
“Why’d you have to be?” You retorted.
“Why’d you always lie?”
“Why’d you only call me when you’re high?”
Why'd you only call me when you're high?
… "Why'd you only ever phone me when you're high?"
"Why'd you only ever phone me when you're high?"
"Why'd you only ever phone me when you're high?"
"Why'd you only ever phone me when you're high?”
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