Part 2 Later Today!! :)

part 2 later today!! :)

chocolate-coated hearts | r.l.

barista!remus x shy!reader

summary: you go to a new cafe to order donuts for your friend, immediately enamoured with the barista

tw: nothing? reader takes literature as a major, also kind of has social anxiety

a/n: might make this a series! i’ve got a few ideas <3

An anxious sigh escapes you as you stand idly outside the cafe, peering inside through the mosaicked windows. It was jam-packed, people pushing past each other and snake-like queues forming throughout the space. You wriggle your phone out of your coat pocket and glance at the message that your friend, Madison, had sent in a half hour ago.

hey gorgeous!! mind picking up a few donuts for me at Beanie’s before you come over? a few of the pbj ones, and some chocolate ones too. thanks xx

She was expecting, and you went by whenever you could to help her out after her asshole of a boyfriend left.

Normally, you wouldn’t bother. You hated crowded places, and Beanie’s was the definition of crowded – an old-style cafe which had blown up overnight because of its scrumptious donuts and vintage aesthetic. But who were you to deny the cravings of the woman bearing your goddaughter?

You take a deep breath and push the creaky wooden door open, cringing at how the bell rang and signalled the whole cafe to your presence. But no one so much as looked up, busy trying to buy or sell food, or find a table.

You push your way through the sea of people, joining the queue in front of the counter. It was long, you noted, and would probably take another fifteen minutes or so until it was your turn to place an order. You fish out your crumpled book from your bag and turn it to the page you had stopped on yesterday. It was the second classic of the term – Pride and Prejudice. Taking literature as a major meant you spent more time reading than anything else, but you weren’t complaining.

As you read, you scribbled down plot points to take note of and quotes which meant something worth writing about. Your eyes stayed glued to the page, trying to work out hidden meanings and flowery language. Once you were back home, you’d have to compile all your analysis onto that worksheet Professor Ragnarsson had given out, write the 10-page long review, and then –

“Hey! Shut the damn book and order, will you?”

Your heart jumps in your chest at the sudden harsh tone. You close your book and whip your head around to see a middle-aged man glaring at you before peering down at his watch. “There’s a long queue, and we don’t have all day.”

The heat rushes to your cheeks as you open your mouth to apologise – but before you can say anything, you hear an oddly soothing voice from behind you. “Hey, don’t be a jerk. She didn’t know the counter was open.”

You glance back towards the counter, and you swear your heart stopped beating for a second. Angelic was an understatement to describe the man standing in front of you, tall and lanky and absolutely fucking beautiful.

His chestnut brown hair perfectly framed his pale face, eyebrows furrowed in annoyance as he glanced at the rude customer behind you. There were pinkish scars tracing from above his eyebrows to right below his lips, but they looked golden under the orange light – he looked like some kind of heavenly being.

When his eyes dart back to you, his expression instantly softened, lips tilting upwards in a smile. You thought you would melt into a puddle right there and then just by gazing into his warm, honeyed eyes. “Hi, gorgeous. What can I get you?”

You blink, your mouth involuntarily falling open slightly. Gorgeous? Was he talking to you? Maybe he was referring to the man behind you.

His smile widens, and that does absolutely nothing to calm the feeling of your heart bouncing around in your stomach. “It’s okay if you can’t choose just yet, I know the number of options can be…” he chuckles, “overwhelming. Take all the time you need to decide.”

Oh my god, you thought. His laugh sounded musical, like the tender feeling of being enveloped in a warm embrace. You’d put it on a record player and play it on loop for hours if you could.

“Hurry the fuck up –”

“One more word from you and you won’t be getting your coffee today, buddy,” the godly-looking barista snapped in a slightly louder tone at the man behind you, face contorted in irritation.

You hear silent cursing behind you, a twinge of embarrassment turning you red. You quickly glance back up. “Sorry, hi, hello. I’ll um… I…” the words were on the tip of your tongue, but seemed to dissolve when he glanced at you with those agonisingly pretty eyes and kind smile.

Snap out of it, you internally curse as you open your mouth again. “I’ll get three peanut butter-jelly donuts, and four chocolate donuts.”

“Okay. Which chocolate ones?” he asks, tapping his tongs against the display dome with stacks of donuts. There really were a lot of options – chocolate sprinkles, belgian chocolate, chocolate glazed, double chocolate – your mind seemed to freeze up for a second. Which one would Madison want?

You quickly look behind you, seeing the man’s face twisted up in what looked like rage. It seemed to be taking him all his willpower not to lash out at you, and the customers behind him didn’t look much far off.

You turn back to the counter, eyes wide with panic as you feel the blood rush to your head. You had never been good at this; thinking and choosing on the spot. That’s why Subway was always a no-go for you, that’s why Madison had specifically told you what to get her – just that she hadn’t been specific enough. “I… I’m not sure. I think, um…”

“Hey, take it easy,” you look back up to see Remus giving you a reassuring smile, a slight hint of concern on his face. Your despair must have been embarrassingly evident, then. “It’s alright if you can’t choose. Do you want me to pick for you?”

You ought to have been humiliated, the way you immediately nodded and gave in to his offer. But he just gave you an easy smile and nodded, picking up one of each type and placing them in the box.

“Thank you,” you mumble sheepishly as you move to the payment counter, fishing in your bag for a wad of notes.

“Of course,” he grins, and it was so bright you thought it could probably light up the whole cafe. “That’ll be $15.90.”

As he waits for you to pay, he takes a quick look down and begins to brush crumbs off his apron. You look up at the wrong moment, eyes immediately fixing on the curves of his biceps visible through his T-shirt, and his slender fingers.

He glances back up at you, catching a glimpse of your flustered look and instantly smirking. You look away abashedly, counting the money and handing it to him.

The brush of your fingers against his calloused palm sent a jolting shock through you as you quickly pull back, not missing the way his smile widened as he cashed the money into the register.

“Thanks for visiting, sweetheart. Hope to see you again soon.”

You don’t reply, afraid you’d crumble into a blushing, gooey mess. Flashing him a brief, nervous smile, you pick up the box of donuts before turning around and heading straight for the exit. Sweetheart.

You huff as you open the door and step outside, pulling out your phone to complain to Madison all about the stupidly handsome barista at her favourite cafe. God, he really knew what he was doing.

poly!marauders masterlist — ✩₊⋆☾⋆˚ ☼

❤︎ — fluff | ☁︎ — angst | ✿ — san’s favs

roommate!marauders x fem!reader (headcanons) ❤︎

marauders x gn!reader who forgets to take care of themselves (headcanons) ❤︎

marauders x half-witch, half-vampire!reader (headcanons) ❤︎

alone — they comfort you when you’re scared of what life would be like after their deaths (half-witch, half vampire!reader) ☁︎ ❤︎ ✿

Do you take Marauders fic recs? xx

hi lovely! if you mean requests, then yes, i do!!

sit together | s.b.

tw: angst, hurt/comfort

a/n: inspiration really struck with this one! was feeling sad about poa sirius so i decided to write this :) enjoy!

summary: sirius is back from azkaban, but things just don’t feel like they used to

“I wish I knew how to talk about it,” you murmur, gaze fixed on the tearing leather of the couch as you thumb it absentmindedly, like it were the most interesting thing in the world.

Sirius looks up from where he slouches on the other end, surprise flashing across his features. “What?”

He’s startled, really, that you decided to start a conversation. It’s something you haven’t done once in these past few days.

Sirius presumed you’d be happy to have him home, glad to be reunited with your lover after twelve long years. But ever since he returned, he’s felt a constant craving for your affection.

The truth was that he didn’t feel much different right now from how he did in Azkaban.

Hours spent tirelessly longing for you - for the touch of your soft skin beneath his calloused hands, the feel of your tender lips on his chapped ones. It was how he survived, dreaming of who was waiting for him on the other side of the cruel metal bars.

It had felt like he was going mad sometimes, crazy for you. Hands grasping at what he thought was the fabric of your dress. Fever dreams and hallucinations of soft moans, whispered promises. Loud sobs racking his body because he envisioned a glimpse of your death. But you were here, now, sitting stoic in front of him.

You weren’t the same anymore, though. You were no longer the person he had left behind when he was taken away. You weren’t his.

What had once been stolen kisses and longing stares had turned into accidental touches and pulling away. Late night heart-to-hearts about rings and cradles had been replaced with small talk, mindless rambling for the sake of conversation.

Where there had been love, there was now a barrier. And Sirius couldn’t tell if it was a mental one or a physical one; considering that you now slept with two doors separating you.

He wished he could say all of this, express the twinge of pain that tore through his chest every time he looked into your lifeless eyes. But all that he managed to croak out was, “What do you mean?”

“This,” you gesture between the two of you, finally mustering the strength to meet his steady gaze. You wish you hadn’t. The torment in his eyes was going to haunt you for the rest of your life.

Everything had changed, it was as obvious as the rising of the sun. His departure had left you like a rag doll, solemn and still as though the life had been sucked out of you. It was more than a decade ago. But you had felt the anguish grip you every minute of every day from the time he was taken away.

He had left you with so much anger, so much hatred for the circumstances you were left in. You knew deep down that it wasn’t his fault, of course it wasn’t. But you weren’t about to direct your fury at anyone else. Not at Remus, the pathetic bloke who had just lost his best friends. Not at Peter - he deserved nothing, not even your emotions.

So you channeled your rage at Sirius. Because you were so desperate to get the image of his pleading eyes out of your head, so fraught with the need to kill the longing ache that filled your body when he double-crossed your mind. You couldn’t bear the pain of loving him, so you convinced yourself to hate him. Told yourself that he killed James and Lily. He abandoned you and was never coming back.

But he was here now, looking at you like his universe began and ended with your love.

You suck in a shaky breath and continue, convincing yourself that if you didn’t have this conversation now, you never would. “I don’t know how to talk about this. About us. Nothing’s…. nothing’s the same anymore.”

Sirius’ eyebrows bunch in concern, and you don’t miss the slight quiver in his lips as he bites down on them. He breathes sharply, blinking away what looks suspiciously like tears.

“Well,” he starts, gulping down a lump in his throat as he continues to train his eyes on you. “You don’t- we don’t have to talk about it.”

“I don’t?”

“No, you don’t.”

“We can just… we can just sit together,” he blurts out, seeming puzzled at his own words for a moment as he averts his gaze to the ground.

But then his expression clears up, and he looks back into your eyes, surprisingly firm. “If you’d like to, I mean. If you’d like to sit together.”

“Sit with you?” you repeat.

“Sit with me,” he says again.

“Okay.”

Sirius lets out a tense exhale, visibly relieved. He gives you a terse yet encouraging smile, patting the spot next to him.

You take a deep breath, pressing your palms into the couch as you move yourself towards him.

The next moment, your indent in the couch is melding with his, knees touching the other’s. He extends his arm behind you, unsure. But when you don’t protest, he wraps it around you gently, pulling you into his side with all the care in the world.

“Okay?”

Uncertainty.

“Okay.”

Hope.

You feel your walls start to collapse, involuntarily melting into Sirius’ touch. This is what it used to be like, this is how you used to spend your days.

It was engraved into your very bones, the feel of his skin against yours. Etched on your soul were the hearts he used to trace with his slender fingers, the marks of where he left his kisses. Visible to no one but you and him.

He sucks in a trembling breath and you fear he’s going to start crying. Worse, you think you might just crumble into a pool of tears yourself. So you do what your heart is screaming at you to, and wrap your arms around him tenderly.

Sirius immediately tugs you impossibly closer, burying his face in your hair. You feel the yearning in his embrace, his hungry craving to hold you close. His tears wet your hair as you nestle your face in his chest.

The both of you stay like that for what feels like forever, making up for all the time you should’ve had. At one point you start to rock him as he cries, trying to pretend like his muffled sobs didn’t send daggers through your heart.

“I love you,” Sirius breathes shakily, a while after his bout of tears has passed.

Silence.

He seems to understand, seems to accept it. He gently rakes his fingers through your hair. “Do you love me?”

It’s less of a question, more of a plead. You think he might already know the answer. And you know he’d continue to love you either way.

“I don’t know,” you admit softly, feeling the guilt squeeze your chest.

You feel his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows. “Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Yeah, okay,” he murmurs, a hint of heartbreak in his voice. He lays his head on your yours and closes his eyes as he squeezes you just a little bit tighter. “You don’t have to love me. Not now, not ever. But… until you do, we can just continue to sit together, you know?”

That earns a soft chuckle from you.

“Sit together,” you muse, feeling your lips start to curve upwards. Your agreement is obvious from the smile in your voice.

“Sit together,” he echoes, smiling softly.

Sirius would love you for the rest of his life if you’d let him. But until you did, he was content to just sit next to you with his arm around your shoulder and head resting on yours.

sirius black masterlist — ★

❤︎ — fluff | ☁︎ — angst | ꩜ — smut | ✿ — san’s favs

starlight — sirius finds you self-harming ❤︎

home — sirius comforts you after a long day ❤︎

perfect — sirius comforts you when insecure about your body ❤︎

anytime — sirius takes care of you when you're needy ꩜

a hundred times over — you worry about sirius and have your first kiss when he escapes to the Potters' ☁︎ ❤︎

flinch — sirius reacts to you flinching during an argument ☁︎ ❤︎

mouth wide open — post-azkaban, your husband returns to you, but at what cost? ☁︎

date — you've been spending too much time with regulus, hurting sirius' feelings ☁︎ ❤︎ ✿

sit together — sirius is back from azkaban, but things just don't feel like they used to ☁︎ ❤︎ ✿

all of it — sirius comforts you after you relapse (self-harm) ❤︎ ✿

for this request: may i have something along the lines of either yn or Sirius was having a really bad panic attack about sh and the other was helping calm down? Sorry if that's confusing it made more sense in my head!

all of it | s.b.

tw: mentions of scars, implicit but not present sh, crying

sirius black x reader

The empty food packets strewn all over the living room must’ve been a testament to how you were feeling. Sirius notices it, and the grimy smell that envelopes your apartment, as he quietly enters and kicks off his shoes.

It gets worse as he enters the hallway, food crumbs and empty bottles of beer littering the floor. He stops short right in front of your door. The place was a mess; he deduced that you were probably the same.

Sirius knocks carefully so as to not frighten you, straining his ears to hear the soft sound of your sniffling.

“Yeah?”

There’s so much pain in your breaking voice, Sirius thinks he can physically feel it cutting through his heart. “Hi baby, it’s me. Can I come in?”

It’s quiet for a moment before you let out a defeated “Okay.”

He slowly pushes open the door, eyes searching around the messy room before they finally land on you.

You were all curled up, knees to your chest and chin placed in between as you stared lifelessly at the wall in front of you with tears dribbling down your cheeks. Your hands were slotted under your thighs, and one look at that told him exactly what was wrong.

Sirius makes his way over to sit in front of you, tugging you closer until your knees were smushed between the two of you with his strong arms caressing your back. He rubs it slowly, feeling your T-shirt ride up as he traces shapes on your spine.

He doesn’t say anything, doesn’t need to. He knows you would want to tell him yourself. “Siri,” you start, your voice nothing louder than a murmur.

“Yeah, love?” he whispers back, head tucked on your shoulder as he presses a kiss to the side of your head.

“It’s getting bad again,” you choke out, and Sirius feels the tears wetting his shirt. He pulls away slightly to nudge your knees apart until they’re wrapped around his hips, and you’re pressed against him with your face buried in the crook of his neck.

“It’s okay, baby. It’s gonna be okay.”

He lets you sob, and does his best to keep his own tears in. You were weak, so it was his turn to be strong for you.

This was a common occurrence in the process of your healing; which you’d agreed to start when Sirius had first discovered the red lines marring your wrists a few months ago. He’d cried, you’d cried, and a promise was made to help you get better.

You were working hard, but Sirius knew that sometimes the demons were too big to run away from, the days were too gloomy to shine a light upon. Relapses were bound to happen.

And so he continues to hold you as you fall apart, picking the broken pieces up, and having faith in the fact that you’d try your hardest to fix yourself back up tomorrow.

“I thought I was getting better. But today was just… bad. So bad.”

Sirius squeezes you impossibly tighter, swallowing the lump in his throat before he answers. “You are getting better, sweet girl. You are. One bad day doesn’t change the number of good days you’ve been having.”

All he gets is a small guilty croak in response. He tugs on your arms from underneath your thighs, and brings them to his sides.

You feel his slender fingers slipping under the long-sleeved material, hovering over the indents on your wrists. You press your face further into his shoulder shamefully.

Sirius continues to rub your back with one hand, bringing your wrist up to his lips with the other as he gently kisses the new streaks of red. He feels your body shuddering against him, and his heart sinks for the pain he knows is clawing at you.

“Love, listen to me,” he says tenderly, and you feel his breath on your wrist. “Today doesn’t mean anything, okay? You’re so strong for even trying to fight the urge.”

The guilt tears at you, knowing that you had failed to stop yourself once again. “But-“

“No buts, gorgeous. You tried and that’s all that matters. I’m proud of you. So proud that I’m gonna buy you a medal from the dollar store tomorrow.”

He smiles softly upon hearing your wet chuckle, which immediately turns to tears again when he starts to pepper sweet kisses on your other wrist.

“You’re gonna get clean, you hear me?” he whispers as he feels the scars against his lips. “You’re gonna get clean, one step at a time. And I’m sticking with you through all of it.”

A warbled thank you bubbles out of you as he sighs, dropping your wrist to cup your head and bury his face in your hair.

Your hair had a reek to it, he noted. The house was a mess, and your heart was breaking. But Sirius knew there was no way he could love you any more than he did, flaws and all. He was determined to be there for you through all of it, the good days and the bad ones.