and john is missing part of his leg but i really don't care right now

anonymous asked:

Hi I don't know if you're still doing a sleepover Saturday but I was wondering if I could request either a Sirius or Remus teasing blurb please? Those boys are marauders and are constantly up to no good, regardless of the scenario ;)

It had already been a long day. After 3 tests and handing in a major essay, you were ready to just curl up with Remus and cuddle for the rest of the evening. The Fat Lady swung open to a bustling common room. Remus was at a table with the other Marauders, his back to you, laughing at something James had just said. You quietly walked up behind him, wrapping your arms around his shoulders.

“Y/N! So glad you’re back!” he beamed, kissing you on the cheek. “How’s your day been?”

“Horrid. Three exams in one day ought to be banned.” You moved around the side of him to take a seat in his lap. Remus’ messy hair was tousled on the top of his head; his eyes were full of light as he looked at your tired face.

“You want to go upstairs, relax a little?” he whispered in your ear as he ran his thumb along your back. You nodded quickly and got back on your feet. “Well guys, we’ll see you later.”

The boys poked fun at you as you ascended the stairs to the boy’s dormitory. You climbed into his bed quickly, waiting eagerly for him to join you. Remus towered over you as you looked up at him. There was something behind his eyes, something playful.

“What are you thinking right now…” you asked, looking over his face for any clues. All he did was smile back a mischievous smile.  

“Oh, nothing,” he said, still smirking.

“Ok…because I really just want to nap. I’ve had a bad day, Moony,” you said with a warning look on your face.

“I know, sweetheart. Just here to take care of you.” He lowered himself down next to you, pulling you in close to his chest. Remus moved his hand along your waist, slowing down when he was aligned with your center. Gradually, he moved his hand, lightly cupping between your legs.

“Remus,” you whined. You were just on the edge of sleep. Part of you felt guilty for wanting to turn him down, but the other part of you was too exhausted to put up with him teasing.

“Yes, my love?”

“What are you doing?” you asked, your eyes now closed again.

“Nothing. Just missed you today,” he replied innocently. He let his hand rest there for a moment, lulling you into a false sense of security. But then his fingers began to dance along the waistband of your pants, playing casually with the button.

“Remus John!” you yelled, irritated he wasn’t just letting you be. He laughed to himself, clearly very amused with the reaction he’d gotten from you. “You’ve spent far too much time with Pads and Prongs today.”

“I’m just teasing ya. I know you’re tired, love.” He placed a kiss on your furrowed brow. “I just can’t help bugging you. You’re so cute when you’re grumpy. But I promise I’ll stop.” You couldn’t help but smile any time he called you cute, even if you were supposed to be irritated with him. But above anything, he was a sweetheart, so he kept his promise and held you until you were finally able to sleep for the first time in what felt like days. 

Your Song

Anonymous: Could you please write about the reader knowing Matt since they were kids and he used to secretly play the guitar when they were alone, and when they are older (present) he doesn’t play anymore and she misses it, so he tries to play the old guitar he still has.? :)

I was thinking of writing something like this idea a while ago and you requested it! Awesome.

1314 words. Enjoy xx

Your knuckles rapped on the apartment door in front of you. When the door opened, you took in Matt’s sweatpants, t-shirt, and large grin with a wide smile of your own. “Hey Matt.”

He let you in, stepping aside quickly. “I’m cooking dinner now, it should only be another half hour.” He cupped your face gently and kissed your forehead.

He went right back to the kitchen while you nodded appreciatively as the smell of a well-made home cooked meal wafted through the apartment. “It certainly smells good. Thanks, Matt.”

“It’s no problem at all,” he said. You put your slightly large bag down on his couch, walking back to the kitchen. Ignoring his protests, you helped Matt finish up making dinner, talking with him about anything and everything.

You and Matt were very close friends, ever since you were both toddlers. That bond never broke between you two, and perhaps even grew stronger. You stuck with him after his accident, helping him to adjust. And now, on days you had off from your job, you would head over to Nelson and Murdock to visit him, Foggy, and Karen.

A sleepover with Karen was long overdue, but since she was sick, you asked if Matt was doing anything that night. And fortunately, he wasn’t.

“Where did you learn to cook like this, Murdock?” You asked, thoroughly enjoying your best friend’s meal.

He just grinned, “There’s a lot you still don’t know about me, Y/n.” Your lips quirked up in a smile.

After eating, you went to Matt’s room and put your bag on the floor. His closet door was open just a crack, and you thought you saw something familiar inside. Brushing it off, you changed into sweatpants and a t-shirt, quickly forgetting about the item and going back to hang out with Matt.

“Do you remember when we were little?” You asked quietly, your hands playing with his. It was around one in the morning now and you were starting to get tired, so you were both seated on the couch relaxing.

He nodded slowly. “Yes, how can I forget? You still haven’t let me forget about that bet I lost,” he said teasingly, but you heard the affection in his voice.

You thought in silence for a minute. “I’ll be right back,” you said, getting up and heading to Matt’s room. You opened the closet quietly, smiling when you saw the object from before. You looked it over in your hands, feeling the smooth light brown wood and the six metal strings of Matt’s old guitar.

You brought it back to the living room, handing it to Matt. As soon as he felt it, his mouth parted in surprise. “How did you know I had this?”

“I saw it before,” you said, shrugging your shoulders. “Tune it?”

Matt sat up straight, moving his fingers lightly over the strings, turning the pegs one at a time. Some of the strings sounded so terrible, but slowly, you began to hear the old melody of a guitar. You hadn’t played in forever, probably ever since Matt had first went to college.

“I missed this guitar,” you said, sitting back on the couch and watching Matt caress the strings lightly, music barely reaching your ears. “It still sounds perfect.”

“We paid good money for this,” he joked, and you nodded.

“That was two summers worth of work,” you laughed with your best friend.

You fell silent again, small melodic vibrations filling the atmosphere. It felt good to be there with just Matt, to feel like you were young again, or back in his old home, playing songs and singing together when no one was there. Both of you without a care in the world.

He began to strum a tune lazily, but then had an idea. “I’ll play something, and you tell me what it is.”

You grinned. “Sounds fun.”

It took a while for him to figure out the chords and notes, but once he did, it was like he never stopped playing. He did this for a while, going through movies and shows and old songs from the 60s and 70s, oftentimes making you laugh. An hour later, you let him just play whatever he wanted while you watched and listened.

You noticed that his hands were so gentle with the instrument, and his face showed concentration. His soft brown hair fell over his face, and you smiled. He really needed to get it cut soon. You tilted your head slightly. Or maybe not.

He started to hum, making you focus back on what he was playing. “Is that Journey?” You asked.

He nodded. “I don’t remember the chords, though.”

You nodded, biting your lip. “Could you sing a song, maybe?” You asked hesitantly. Matt’s hands froze for a second, so you continued, “I really miss it-you playing, I mean.”

“Y/n, I don’t really remember…” He trailed off, “Maybe…”

Your eyes lit up as his fingers moved across the frets, finding their place. You watched him swallow almost nervously. “I do remember one song.”

“Alright,” you said, sitting cross legged on the couch next to him, waiting.

He started to play, the song coming naturally to him. “It’s a little bit funny,
this feeling inside…”

You immediately recognized it, your eyes widening slightly. It was a song you used to play all the time while he listened, one of your favorite songs by Elton John.

It had been a long time since he had played, and you couldn’t believe this was the song he chose to remember. His voice was still the same-a little off-and the guitar was old, but it was just as beautiful as you pictured.

“You can tell everybody, this is your song. It may be quite simple but now that it’s done, I hope you don’t mind, I hope you don’t mind that I put down in words… How wonderful life is while you’re in the world.”

When he finished, you reached over, took the guitar from his hands, and placed it on the coffee table. You pulled him in for a hug, resting your head on his shoulder. “That was beautiful. Thank you, Matty.”

He smiled against your head. “I’ve always remembered that one.”

You pulled back, resting your hands on the sides of his face, his resting on your waist. “Why that song?”

His hazel eyes fell to your lips. “One of those things you still don’t know about me, I’ve always wanted to sing it to you.” He paused, “Do you know why?”

You shook your head, staring at him.

“Because you deserve it. You’re beautiful, every time you used to sing it I tried to remember it as best as I could. Your voice, the way you laughed when you finished as if you weren’t good enough to sing it in the first place. That-everything you do-drives me crazy. And I fell in love with you, Y/n.”

You didn’t know what to say, you had nothing to say to that. He said the one thing you never had the courage too. So you did what you could, leaning in and kissing him gently.

“This is one thing we never did back then,” he whispered, his face an inch from yours.

“I wish we did,” you told him honestly.

He smiled, his eyes sparkling. “Me too, Y/n.”

You kissed him again. “Then we can make new memories now.”

“And I can play you all the songs you want,” he laughed, resting his forehead on yours. “Sound good?”

You closed your eyes, “It sounds perfect, Matty.”