Edenic

Final blurb my loves! I know a lot of them ended up as cliffhangers, but I’m considering doing multiple parts if you guys want to see them, just let me know!

The night was surprisingly cool for the beginning of summer, and a chill ran through Y/N’s spine for a moment, causing her to shiver slightly, the cup of tea in her palms shaking along with her. A sudden need to look at the oddly starry night overwhelms her, and she catches glimpse of something flying through the air, a feeling of ease taking over her body, despite the odd, unsettling sight.

She takes a few steps towards the kitchen table, sitting down, cup in hand, and opening a book which was marked at its final pages.

A flip of the page. A sip of tea.

A flip of the page. A sip of tea.

It becomes a steady rhythm.

A flip of the page. A sip of tea.

And a knock on the door.

She turns to face the door, feeling her heartbeat quicken as she grabs her wand from the kitchen counter, holding it firmly between her fingers and slowly making her way to the door.

There is a familiar click as she unlocks it, a common creak as she opens it, and the clink of her wand falling to the floor once she catches glimpse of what’s behind it.

Sirius Black.

Twelve years later.

Face worn and pale, cheeks hollow, hair knotted and messy, grown far past his shoulder. But his eyes, they hide the same glimmer they had when they were 20, their laughter brightening their world in the darkest of times.

“Hello,” his voice is hoarse, like it’s been silent for far too long, and a hint of a smile appears on his face at the sight of her open mouth and widened eyes.

“Aren’t you going to invite me in?” his smile morphs into the familiarity of a devious smirk and she steps aside, her facial expression unchanged, letting him step into the corridor of her apartment.

“It’s good to see you,” he continues as the door slams shut. Y/N attempts to respond, hunting for words in the shocked whirlwind that her mind had become, but all that leaves her mouth is a puzzled squeak, followed by laughter pouring from his lips.

Laughter that is stopped only when she decides that words wouldn’t be sufficient even if she did manage to utter a few and presses her lips to his, the warmth of reconciliation coursing through her veins and making the chill of the early summer’s day disappear as quick as it had appeared.

Thank you so much my love, this means the world to me! xoxo

Harry sat in front of a collection of tombstones, one far too big for a group of people younger than twenty. His glasses lay on the dew stained grass, an attempt to blur the vision of grief that stood before him. Emerald eyes stare into the distance as the sun rises further in the sky, its pink tint becoming brighter and brighter.

“There you are.”

He hears a familiar voice, turning to his side to see Y/N taking a seat next to him on the damp grass, her arms wrapping around her knees as she stares ahead with him.

Somehow, the air becomes lighter, and even staring at the grey, sinister tombstones of his friends seems easier, even though Y/N doesn’t say a single word, simply looking ahead with him.

The sun had now risen fully into the bright blue sky of the spring day, its rays almost blinding the two figures sitting on the grass in the middle of the graveyard.

After hours of silence, Y/N speaks.

“This is just the beginning of another chapter, you know?” she whispers, her voice cracking from being quiet for so long, “It’s a tragic ending, painful, sad, awful, but it’s just another beginning.”

His eyes finally look away from the names engraved in gold, meeting hers. She notices the glimmer of tears in the corner of his eye, and her fingers intertwine with his as they turn back to staring absently into the distance.

An hour passes before the silence is broken again, this time by Harry himself.

“It’s going to be okay, right? It’s going to stop hurting?”

Her fingers tightened around his, and his grip tightened at the very same moment. Even though words were exchanged through the feeling of skin on skin, she spoke them, her voice almost overflowing with confidence.

“It will. Everything will be alright.”

“Live a little, Longbottom,” Y/N’s words echo in Neville’s head as a frown appears on his face, his mind storming with puzzled thoughts about her words.

He knew the y/h/c haired, free spirited girl had a point, and a good one at that, but he couldn’t help but feel offended by her words. He stole a glance at the laughing girl, surrounded by her friends, and feels a surge of courage, finding his feet move towards her.

He reaches her sooner than he expected to, taking her by the arm wordlessly and pulling her to the side, provoking a series of “oooh"s from her friends. Her response to this was simply sticking out her tongue, attempting to conceal her surprise at his forward approach.

Before she manages to ask him what’s come over him, he speaks, his words shocking her even more than being grabbed and dragged to the side by the usually shy boy.

“You know those pranks you pull all the time? I want to do one with you.” his words are rushed enough to leave him practically breathless at the end of his demand.

“I’m sorry, you what?” she looks at him, completely bewildered.

“Exactly what you heard.” he feels his confidence fading, stuttering over his words as he attempts to keep his gaze fixed on hers.

“Neville, you know you don’t have to prove yourse–”

“I’m either doing it with you or I’m doing it alone.”

She raises her eyebrows in surprise, a sly smile spreading over her face as she gives him a nod.

“Whatever you want Longbottom. But you’d better brace yourself.”

Only 3 blurbs left loves! Hopefully I’ll be finishing them off tonight and posting them tomorrow!

“I know, he showed me,” Y/N responded to something her best friend said, something Ron hadn’t quite caught. The knowledge of who the ‘he’ may have been overwhelmed him with anger, however, and his grip tightened on his quill, almost snapping it in two.  He closed his eyes for a long moment, taking a deep breath in and opening his eyes before exhaling.

He began writing again, eyes darting back and forth from the blackboard that was filled with the quick and elegant script of Professor McGonnagal. Soon enough, too soon, in fact, he heard another mention of the dreaded, “him”, coming from the lips of the same pretty girl whose words he’d been trying to ignore for fear of breaking his quill.

“He said so himself, Hannah,” Ron’s parchment tore under the sudden strength of his quill pressed against it, causing ink to reach the neat, polished oak of his desk. Instead of trying to clean it up, or fix the essay he’d been writing on the transfiguration of objects into living things, he found himself turning around to face his flame and her friend, his eyes flashing angrily.

“Y/N, we could all do with a little less talk about your boyfriend while trying to focus on our work,” his tone was surprisingly official, and he felt puzzled at the astonished look the y/e/c eyed girl gave him at his oddly aggressive statement.

“I’m sorry, what?” she muttered in response, a confused frown appearing on her face.

“The ‘he’ you keep mentioning? Your new boyfriend, or whatever…” the auburn haired boy’s attempt to sound careless caused his face to turn a radiant shade of red, “No one wants to hear about it.”

“First of all, you really shouldn’t be eavesdropping,” Y/N retorted, her tone unexpectedly calm, a hint of amusement present in her words.

“Second of all, I was talking about my older brother. I don’t have a boyfriend.” she stated, a mocking smirk appearing on her face. “No need to get jealous.”

“I wasn’t– I’m not–Shut up,” he turned back to his ink splattered assignment, feeling his ears burn with the same red tint that now completely covered his cheeks. Thoughts rushed through his mind, and before he could stop himself, he had turned back around, feeling the heat of his blushing face strengthen when she looked up and her eyes met his.

“Yes, Weasley?”

“Y/N, would you like to go to Hogsmeade with me this weekend?” his words were rushed, nervous, barely comprehensible, but the smile that spread across her face showed him she was more than aware of what he had just said.

“I’d really like that. Provided I’m allowed to talk about my brother without being told off, of course,” she teased and he felt a smile flickering on his own face.

“You can talk about whatever you like, Y/N. As long as you let me take you out.”

“Y/N, I’m in love with you.”

“Y/N, I love you.”

“Y/N, I know this may sound forward, but I think I’m in love with you.”

Remus Lupin tried each phrase while staring in the mirror placed in his dormitory, finding each one sounding too awkward and inferior to the emotions he was feeling. After each attempt, he found his face in his palms and groans escaping from his lips.

“This shouldn’t be this difficult,” he muttered to himself. Or so he thought.

“Don’t be a dumb git, of course it’s difficult.” James Potter’s voice prompted Remus’ face to leave his hands.

“I can tell.” Remus retorted bitterly, placing his face back in his palms.

“Come on, you can continue practicing on the way to breakfast. You’ve got to eat, haven’t you?”

“Y/N, I have feelings for you, and I think most people would refer to them as love…”

“What are you, a dictionary? No, try again.” James met Remus’ proclamation with a critical tone, pulling the brown haired boy back before he stepped off a now moving staircase.

“It’s too difficult,” he responded, completely frustrated by his own fear of confessing the feelings he’d found himself having for Y/N.

As the staircase docked at a familiar corridor, he stepped off, and along with his best friend, made his way to the Great Hall. He found himself sat with his three best friends, still muttering attempts of his confession to himself.

“Let me try another one out,” he turned to face Sirius Black, whose mouth was full of scrambled eggs, his statement met with a confused gaze of his grey eyes.

“What?” the boy mumbled incomprehensibly through his food-filled mouth, giving James a glance of surprised puzzlement.

“Y/N,” Remus began, oblivious to the vigor with which James and Sirius were shaking their heads, their eyes widened as they looked behind their stuttering friend, “I think I’m in love with you and that scares the hell out of me.”

Finally noticing the exaggerated gestures of his friends, he felt his heartbeat quicken and turned around to find none other than Y/N, her y/e/c eyes staring at him in bewilderment. He didn’t have to hear her next words to know she’d heard him, his heart suddenly pounding faster than it ever had before.

“You’re what?”

Okay so this was difficult for me because I’m a big Romione shipper, but I gave it a go, even though it may be a tad ambiguous, so I hope you like it even if it wasn’t exactly what you wanted @antoniaang!

Her kisses give him toothaches. Sugar burns holes in his cheeks, seeps into his veins, sticks to his skin. She’s soft as cotton candy. Sweet, sweet cloud bubbling in his mouth, fireworks of his heart crackling on his tongue.

Eye of the hurricane. A deceptive lull, a foreshadowing of frenetic situations, desperate fingers tangling in his hair and his tongue allowing her name to slip off of it, smooth as silk.

Red wine. Bitter and sweet and sour, that’s what he tastes when his lips are on her neck, coated with secrets and innocence and unsaid words.

Power. It’s what she has, so much power over him, the softness of her voice when she calls his name, the flutter of her eyelashes on a hot summer’s day, sound of her laughter sinking into his skin like a painless tattoo.

Forbidden fruit tastes the sweetest, but how could one know that if its flavour never touched their tongue, never burned its way through their throat and stuck to the lining of their stomach.

Temptation. It’s the strongest when something is impossible, like the sound of her voice pouring love-filled words into his ear as the moon watches their banished passion and whispers to the stars.

Forbidden fruit tastes the sweetest, even if it means he must pocket his sins and run and hide, even if it means tasting her breath only when midnight passes, and clocks strike 1,2,3 in the morning.

Forbidden fruit tastes the sweetest, and Hermione, well… She was the most beautiful piece growing off the branch.

@fangirlhype here u go, I hope it’s up to ur standards xoxo

I’ll hopefully be finishing off the rest of these by Monday, when I’ll be opening requests again!

Dust lifts in clouds as the massive photo album falls open in front of the widened, awaiting eyes of Y/N and the smiling face of Draco Malfoy. Its leather covers are weathered by time, but the pages inside seem brand new, stainless and filled with moving pictures of platinum haired figures.

“My first birthday,” he points to one of them, a small nostalgic smile appearing on his face at the sight of a chuckling baby being held by a beautiful young woman, her dark hair cascading down to the small of her back. A man stood by them, a few steps too far to be considered part of the loving scene. Y/N noticed the change in Draco’s smile at the reminder of his father’s distance, placing a hand in his at the sight. His fingers wrapped around hers, and he looked at her gratefully, before flipping the page.

She didn’t ask about the absence of his father in the worn pictures: he didn’t want to say and she didn’t want to pry. Instead, she pointed to the picture of a boy around three, his light blondehair reaching his shoulders.

“You had shoulder length hair.” her utterance is a statement, rather than a question, and a smile appears on her face when she sees a shade of crimson covering Draco’s cheeks.

“I wouldn’t let my mum cut it,” he explained, his eyes avoiding hers, his cheeks now the colour of a ripe tomato, “I liked flipping it around.”

She begins laughing uncontrollably at his explanation, and, soon enough, he joins her, their laughter bouncing off walls and making the twilight filled room seem a lot brighter.

Once they manage to calm down, snickers still escaping their lips on occasion, as pages turned, the pictures becoming darker and looking far more miserable than the first few, ones that captured the sweet innocence of childhood in sunlit rooms.

Y/N notices the smile on his face weakening with each page, the moving figures becoming more and more somber and miserable, standing perfectly still in most of the newer photos, the only movement that of their blinking eyes.

A second small dust cloud emerges from the album when another page is flipped to reveal a blank space. Draco stares at it, his smile fading completely, his face losing all colour, and moves to close the heavy, worn album. Her hand on his wrist stops him, and his blue eyes meet her y/e/c ones, glistening with held back tears.

“We’ll fill a whole other album,” she whispers, and colour begins returning to his cheeks, “We’ll make new memories. Together.”

Now, he is beaming at her, and can’t help but throw the heavy album to the floor, wrapping his arms around her and causing her to fall over on the couch, laughter slipping from her lips. He peppers her cheeks with kisses, and before he knows it, the flash of a camera that had somehow appeared in her hand is capturing the moment of pure, love-filled happiness, as one of his kisses meets her lips.

Y/N’s step quickened when she finally spotted the tall, auburn-haired figure she’d been looking for since the beginning of the week. Shoving past clearly irritated students in the corridor and ignoring the “Watch it"s that followed her rushed paces, she finally reached the broad back of Ron Weasley, grabbing him by the shoulder and watching, slightly skeptical, as he spun around on his heel to face her. His eyes darted away from hers and fixated on the stone wall behind her instead, prompting a frown to appear on her face.

“Are you avoiding me?” her eyes narrowed with the question that slipped past her lips instead of a ‘hello’.

“I don’t know what you’re on about,” he shrugged, his eyes still refusing to meet hers.

“Ron, why are you avoiding me?” she attempted to meet his eyes, her head moving to wherever his eyes wandered. It didn’t quite work, however, his eyes still rushing to avoid hers.

“Ronald.” she crossed her arms on her chest and finally he looked at her, a strange absence lingering in his irises.

“Yeah?” she noticed the knuckles of his left hand cracking under the pressure of his right as he spoke, a nervous habit that was too familiar for her to give up on finding out what was happening.

“I know you’re avoiding me now. I just don’t know why,” the hurt in her voice prompts his lips to open slightly, but as soon as he notices, he presses them back into the previous, nervous expression.

“I’m not avoiding you, alright. We just haven’t crossed paths is all.”

“And that’s why you can’t even look me in the eye?” she frowns at his explanation, her voice cracking slightly, along with the edges of his heart. Unable to watch the wounded expression on her face, he takes a deep breath, and cracking his knuckles a final time, tells a truth that had been weighing him down for weeks.

“Y/N, I think I’m in love with you. And that scares the hell out of me. And I know you can do much better, and I know we’re just friends and you’re interested in what’s-his-face, but I can’t help it. So I thought staying away was the best way to, y'know… Avoid this messing up our friendshi–”

His soliloquy is interrupted by her lips pressed to his, leaving his lungs empty of air and his hands shaking slightly as they found their way to her waist.

Pulling away only seconds later, she beams at him, her fingers slipping between his: “Well, all you had to do was say so.”

People were everywhere, dancing joyfully across the makeshift dancefloor, many of their faces graced with droplets of exhilarated sweat. The familiar red coats of Durmstrang were scattered through multicoloured silk gowns and ironed black dress robes. It was a flurry of excitement, really, one that seldom happened in the halls of Hogwarts, happy and careless.

George Weasley found himself separated from the crowd, standing by one of the many round tables that remained perfectly neat despite the nearing end of the Yule Ball, and their repeated use throughout the night. Something about the crowd just didn’t appeal to him at that moment, and so a goblet full of firewhiskey appeared in his hand and he sat at a chair with pale satin thrown over it, watching the party with a small smile on his face.

A shadow soon covered his lap, prompting him to look up and find Y/N standing by him, hands on her hips and a face which clearly tried to substitute worry for anger.

He could practically feel his face light up at the sight of her. A dress the colour of light champagne cascaded down her body, hugging her hips in a way that was indescribably and unexplainably captivating, and before he knew it, he was standing up, towering over her by a few inches.

“Why aren’t you dancing with everyone else?” despite her frown, she fails to repress the slight worry at the life of the party being sat at its side rather than in its center.

“I was waiting,” his face is now graced with a grin, a mischievous glint hiding in his eyes.

“What for?” she narrows her eyes at his response.

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@goblackhatwithme u seem a tad frustrated there buddy, so have this Cedric blurb in which I kiiiinda combined both your prompts xoxox I am sorry if it’s not very good, I love u.

Excitement filled her mind the moment she woke up, immediately painting a grin onto her still sleepy face. Without waiting another second, Y/N pulled aside the curtains of her four poster bed, grabbing a pile of clothes from the chair nearby and rushing into the girls’ bathroom.

Within simple minutes, she’s standing outside the y/h common room, a small bag in her hand and an excited smile beaming and seeming to light up the entire corridor, somehow glowing even brighter when she catches a glimpse of her date for the day walking towards her.

Cedric Diggory appeared to be even happier about the day ahead than Y/N did, even though to her, it seemed impossible. As he finally reached the entrance of her common room, he wordlessly placed a soft kiss on her forehead.

“Hello gorgeous,” he said, his smile audible even in his voice. She felt her excitement lodge in her throat, but managed to utter a sweet, “Hello,” in response as they began walking.

“Excited?” he looked at her, his smile almost mischievous.

“Of course! I’ve been looking forward to Hogsmeade with you all week,” she beamed, only to find his smile vanish, replaced by a worried frown.

“Love, have you looked outside today?”

It was at that very moment that they reached the massive archway that led to the courtyard, and she felt her own smile vanish as she saw the flurry of rain pouring down outside, the statues in the middle of the courtyard almost invisible through the rushing water droplets being pushed by the wind.

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@immobulusmalfoy​ here you go love, I changed it around a bit, but I hope you don’t mind! xoxo

Loud cheers and laughter overpowered every thought that may have otherwise been running through Y/N’s mind as she poured a glass of gigglewater for herself. The Gryffindor house was tasked with organising the post-exam celebration this year, and its members were definitely up to it: banners in all four house colours were plastered on the walls, charmed paper cranes in the very same hues fluttering around happily, presumably the work of Hermione Granger.

Having filled her goblet to the brim, Y/N, brought it to her lips, taking a sip, which was spat out in surprise only seconds later.

“Fuck, shit, fuck, fuck,” she muttered to herself as she placed the goblet on one of the many tables placed around the room and moved in the direction opposite to the all-too-familiar seventh year Slythern who’d just entered with his usual posse.

She made her way through a thickening crowd, repeatedly apologising for bumping into people she barely knew and keeping her eyes glued to the ground in order to avoid ones she didn’t expect or want to see. As she absentmindedly walked past her classmates, she found herself bumping into a tall, auburn-haired figure. It soon turned around, a grin on the boy’s face and a sigh of relief slipping from her lips when she realised it was a familiar one.

“Weasley, thank god,” she spoke, only then realising how out of breath she was from the rush of her getaway.

“That is my name. Well, one of them,” George Weasley retorted, clearly tipsy.

“My ex just walked in here with a bunch of his cronies,” she continued, trying to ignore the way his eyes seemed to smile at her above the edge of his goblet as he took another sip of firewhiskey, “Could you just pretend we’re really deep in conversation so he wouldn’t come over? Please?” she pleaded.

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♫Your Song- Elton John// Marauders Era: Remus x Reader

Request:  Could you do a Remus x reader one shot with “your song” by Elton John? Love you!!

A/N: I’m so sorry this took so long! My request list got a bit messed up and I’ve been having some trouble with my laptop (as in I’m an idiot and I forgot my adapter so I can’t charge it until I find one. Genius, am I right?) so I’ve had to hop from computer to computer to post these. I hope it was worth the wait, and sorry again that it took so long!

Waves whisper to the shore, pushed by swirling wind and the dynamic depths of the sea. Trees sway in the strong gusts, their branches and leaves arguing with the forceful wind. He looks ahead at the craving sea as it foams and rushes forward, pooling around his feet. His brown hair flutters in the air as he brings his palms to his mouth, hoping his breath will thaw he freezing feeling that lingers on his fingers. As he gently exhales onto his palms, their outsides are covered by two small, gentle hands, surprisingly warm, despite the freezing wind. His eyes follow the small fingers, down sweater covered forearms and gentle shoulders, peeking collarbones and a delicate jawline and meet a gracious smile and a pair of eyes that carry the depths of the oceans within them.

Suddenly, Remus is awake, sitting up, tangled in the sheets of his bed. Instead of the strong wind mussing his brown hair, he is met with the stillness of the dark and a moonbeam gracing the wooden floor of his dormitory. Disappointment weighs on him as he looks at his pale hand, untouched. Sleep avoids him, and too soon, dawn creeps through the curtain covered windows and the chirps of birds float through the air and reach him as he lies still, staring at the ceiling, hoping for a reappearance of the cold wind and warm hands covering his own.

Y/N had woken early, her eyes opening to see the mild glow of the sunrise on her dormitory floor. The window was cracked open, gentle whirls of the wind sneaking in, dancing gracefully with the curtains that leant against the cold glass. The floor creaked as she stood from her bed, her bare feet meeting the cold hardwood and making their way to the window as she reached to open it wide. She leaned onto the window ledge and watched the sun emerge from behind the brooding mountains, its pastel light making the world come alive, as she dreamed of the faraway sea.

The Great Hall is brimming with chatter and laughter, with the whispers of owl’s wings and the thumps of dropped packages, but it’s all white noise and Remus can’t get his dream out of his head and he yearns to hear the sound of the tree branches rustling in the wind and to see the foamy waves reach his feet again and to see those eyes, those familiar yet unknown eyes that carry infinity within them.

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♫Better Man- Paolo Notini// Marauders Era: Sirius x Reader

Request:  Sirius x reader with the song better man by Paolo nutini would be amaaaazing

A/N: I’ll be posting the final non-holiday post tomorrow (Your Song)! Sorry it’s taking so long, I’ve had a few technical difficulties since I’ve arrived, and I’ll make sure it’s up as soon as possible! All holiday requests will be going up on Christmas day, along with some aesthetics and other stuff, so remember to send them in before the 20th please!

I hope you enjoy this! xx

Sirius Black is 11 years old when the rough fabric of the Sorting Hat collides with his sweating forehead, and the instant booming of “Gryffindor!” almost deafens him as he makes his way to the mahogany table, surrounded by cheering students. He is 11 when he clumsily shakes hands with 3 other boys that surround him at the table, fitting in like a piece of a puzzle. He is 11 and the epitome of innocence when he turns his head towards the Hat at that fateful moment as it bellows “Y/H!” and his eyes meet the eyes of pure beauty and her smile blurs the noise around him and she is the only person in the Hall at that very moment.

Sirius Black is 12 years old when he has a strike of luck and Professor Slughorn seats him next to Y/N in Potions class. He is 12 years old as he manages to sneak a glance at the graceful way her handwriting loops and curves on aged parchment. He is 12 years old as he admires the furrowing of her brow as she concentrates, and the way she plays with her quill while she listens. He is 12 years old when she feels his stare burning her skin and finally asks for his name, forcing his mouth into a grin that didn’t fade for weeks later.

Sirius Black is 13 years old and there is a mutiny in his mind as he finally rips down the wallpaper of his room and covers it in embodiments of forbidden fruit, a permanent distance from the trap that is his family. He is 13 years old and she is all he wants, but she doesn’t have pure blood running through her veins, so he protests in the only way he knows how to. He is 13 years old, and she smiles at him every day and says the simplest things, but her voice is a complex ode gracing his ears and he can’t help but look at her back as she leaves, wishing for her to turn around so he could see her face for another second. 

Sirius Black is 14 years old and he often says her name, just to feel the fireworks of his heart crackle on his tongue, and she often hears it, turning to give him a smile that glows like a thousand suns. He is 14 years old and, finally, she agrees to go on a date with him: “One date,” her voice says, pouring from her silky lips, sweet as honey. He is 14 years old and they laugh and laugh for hours on end, and she is sweet as a sugar apple and the bitter taste that his hatred leaves in his mouth fades like stars at dawn. He is 14 years old and about to leave for the summer, when she intertwines her fingers with his and kisses him on the cheek, his mouth agape and his heart soaring.

Sirius Black is 15 years old and his head feels heavy on his shoulders, like an overgrown rosebud weighing down its stems, the thoughts that he hides sharp as its thorns. He is 15 years old as he admits to himself that he hates who he is meant to be, when he tells her everything that weighs down his velour heart and she takes it in her hands and keeps it safe with the warmth of her being. He is 15 years old when she tells him she loves him, 15 years old when he finally kisses her, his hand gently cupping her face, his mind a wonderland as he feels her fingers in his hair and knows that he belongs to her as much as she belongs to him.

Sirius Black is 16 years old when he is forced out of a place he never wanted to be, shoved out of hell and into purgatory. He is 16 years old when she hears what happened and runs to him, and he can feel her heart beat fiercely against his chest and her warm breath tickles his skin and her tears slide down his collarbone and the chaos of his life fades as he embraces her tightly, holding her like the gold lining to a grey cloud. He is 16 years old when their love bursts into flames and his hands are on her hips and she whispers his name and he admires every curve of her body, covered in nothing but moonlight as she proclaims her love again and again.

Sirius Black is 17 years old when he decides that he will be the man she deserves, because life without her wouldn’t be a life at all. He is 17 when James, Remus and Peter scoff at every ring he shows them and he finally picks one blindly, met by nods of approval from his friends. He is 17 years old and his palms are sweating, and he can’t help but nervously touch the inside pocket of his jacket every few seconds as he waits at the very place where they first confessed their love and melted into each other. He is 17 years old when she comes in and he can’t wait a second longer for her to be his forever, and without so much as a greeting, he falls on one knee and asks her a question as he pulls out the small velvet box and it falls and falls again, and her laughter makes it all easy as he finally opens it and asks her to allow him to love her for life.

Sirius Black is 18 years old and he is a married man, and he is young, it’s true, and they say young marriages don’t end well, but he finds it ridiculous that he should wait a second longer than he must to marry someone that makes him want to be a better man.

♫Nothing’s Gonna Hurt You Baby- Cigarettes After Sex// Marauders Era: Sirius x Reader

Request:  You must be swamped with requests haha but i really like the idea of a cuddly fluffy piece with Sirius and the reader in bed with the song nothing’s gonna hurt you baby by cigarettes after sex

A/N: I’m sorry these are all taking so long! I’m trying to do at least one a day, and I promise all the Christmas ones will be on time! I hope you enjoy this!

Edit: I just realised I didn’t make it in bed because I got so inspired and completely forgot! If the anon that requested this wants me to redo it, please let me know, I’m so sorry!

Reminder: Requests for anything non-holiday related close tomorrow. Holiday requests are open until the 20th. I’d also love to try the name game, so don’t hesitate to message me with your names and I’ll try my best to write something pretty!

It’s a mild Spring Saturday and silence echoes through the grand halls of Hogwarts, emptied by eager students rushing to the Hogsmeade bound carriages. Occasionally, the chirp of a bird and the sigh of the gentle wind breaks the static tranquility of the vacant halls.

Sirius Black had felt an indescribable unease that morning, the whines of his best friends going ignored by his wandering mind as he stated he will stay in the castle for the day. Worry flashed across their young faces, but he continued to shake his head, all the while smiling and cracking jokes, assuring them he is just fine.The still air stung at his skin, the unfamiliar sensation causing him to change his bearing, making his way to the Great Hall, his adventurous mind wondering how the constantly brimming space might look empty.

Y/N  Y/L/N had woken up feeling unmotivated and almost growled a loud and determined, “No”, when her roommates asked her if she would be joining them on the field trip that day, pulling a pillow over her head and blocking out the chatter of the girls.Sleep continuously escaped her, so finally, her face graced with a frown, her body speedily dressed in the most comfortable clothes she could find and her hair scooped into a messy bun, she left the comfort of the y/h common room and decided to walk around the grounds, hoping for the fresh air to clear her mind. Aimlessly wandering, she arrived at the door of the Great Hall, mindlessly giving it a push and entering the strangely vacant space.

The door creaked, prompting the dark haired boy to turn and face it, catching a glimpse of a girl he knew, a girl he, surprisingly enough, never quite gathered the courage to talk to. Sun peeped through the windows gracing the sides of the Hall, making her y/h/c hair glow warmly. Her eyes landed on his and she couldn’t manage to hide the unexpected tingle spreading through her body as she smiled at him, warmly.

He sat on top of one of the lengthy tables, his figure slouching  but simultaneously impossibly graceful, the profile of his face radiating a kind of beauty that prompted her to tilt her head to the side to admire it as deeply as she could. Turning to face her, a small, surprised smile spread across his face, and he nodded towards the space next to him, inviting the beautiful stranger to sit next to him. She walked towards him, his eyes drawing her in like a moth to a flame, unfamiliar yet wanted by every fiber of her being.

Mere moments later, she was at his side, and clumsy introductions were made, hands politely shaken. An uncomfortable silence followed, until she finally spoke, her voice like music to his ears.

“How come you’re not in Hogsmeade with James and them?” she turned to look at him, her y/e/c eyes meeting his.

“I just didn’t feel like it,” he smiled at her, suddenly knowing why he was compelled to stay in that day, “What’s your excuse?”

“I’ll just steal yours,” her laugh filled the Hall, reaching the clear blue skies depicted on the enchanted ceiling. 

Hours pass and they seem like seconds as they talk and laugh, jokes and secrets afloat in the air, theories and gossip whispered, yet echoing, like they’re two old friends. 

Suddenly, Sirius jumped from his seat, landing ineptly on the marbled floor and extending a hand to his newfound friend and uttering a startling statement, his eyes locked on hers.

“Dance with me,” there’s no hint of jest in his voice, and despite this she laughs, finally realising that the school’s bad boy really wanted to dance. With her.

“Wait, you’re not joking?” bewilderment is clear in her voice and she feels gentle tickles on her soft skin as she places her hand in his.

‘'No, I’m Sirius,“ a wink and an eye roll, a laugh and her graceful descension from the dark mahogany table and his hand is on her waist as she tries to comprehend what’s happening, the sound of her laughter never fading.

’‘There’s no music!” her exclamation echoes happily through the hall. 

He whisks her away, her feet leaving the floor, and suddenly she knows why they call it Cloud Nine.

“What’s your point?” he says, taking a step forward, as she cheerfully follows, his hand leaving a burning sensation on the small of her back, hers leaving a permanent imprint on his shoulder blade.

She can’t help but hum a tune she’d heard somewhere, his soul enchanted by the sound of her voice, soft and booming right by his ear. He can feel her warm breath on his cheek and then he understands the meaning of soulmates and she knows that, much like him, she’d stayed in for a reason that fateful day, a smile spreading across her face as she plants a soft kiss on his collarbone and her eyes meet his, once again. 

His hand finds its way to her cheek, moving a strand of y/h/c hair off her face and letting the sudden realisation of her beauty sink in. And then he kisses her, softly, passionately, meaningfully, and the branches of the trees outside peek in on the two new lovers, as they are entranced by the existence of each other.

♫Tear in My Heart- Twenty One Pilots// Marauders Era: Remus x Reader

Request:  Can you do a Remus x reader imagine with the song “tear in my heart”? Thanks ☺️

A/N: Getting kind of into the wintery Christmas spirit now! Also, you guys are so sweet when you send in requests and I appreciate that so much! 

A dragonfly flies through the air, buzzing gently, its wings carrying the world as it rushes past, seeming nothing more than a blue streak in the murky darkness of the cloudy autumn day. The crunch of leaves seems louder than it should be as Remus walks towards the grandeur of the castle. Silence stifles the air, broken only by the occasional whiz of strong, brief gusts of wind. The previous night weighs on his wounded shoulders and the taste of blood still lingers in his reticent mouth. Surrounding fog goes unnoticed by his tired brown eyes and a painful relief washes over him as he enters, steps echoing on the floor made of stones cold as his heart.
She didn’t get any sleep that night. The wind howled and the rustle of leaves boomed in her ears, thoughts running restlessly through her velvet mind. Before she knew it, dawn had rolled around, covered in grey mist, the sun entrapped by brooding clouds. The cool air found its way into her dorm, opening her sleepless eyes, her mind heavy with fatigue.The words of her roommates whirled through the air, ignored, incomprehensible. The repeated calling of her name was the only thing that managed to startle her from her unexpected gloom and still she was distracted, her mind embraced by a strange, unexplainable fog.

They enter the Great Hall seconds apart and he’s left a trail invisible to everyone but her, a trail of broken hearts and sharp edged secrets, cutting into his silken heart. It was magnetic and so she followed, entranced, her heart shedding pain as she got closer and closer to the broken boy, catching a glimpse of a wound on the back of his palm that travels like a coursing river down his arm, disappearing in the sleeve of his sweater. He doesn’t feel so tired anymore, his eyes roaming the noise filled hall, falling on the glow of her y/h/c hair as she walks away, a celestial epitome of grace and now his heart is warm and his lesions don’t sting at his skin anymore.

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