Harry Potter Imagines,smuts and preferences

Sirius

Credit goes to ohwowimlonley

Summary/request- you're sad and siri helps

You'd been waiting for Sirius to get back from last period for ages. You had left halfway through due to a small but full force crying episode. So there you sat, in Sirius' dorm. On his bed. Waiting. Oh, and crying. So there's that.

Word somehow must've gotten to Sirius because, not moments later, he was barging through the door with wide eyes.

"Oh honey," he fell onto the bed next to you, manoeuvring you in such a way so you evenly resting on his muscled thighs, "'s wrong, angel?"

You couldn't talk. So, through lumbering breaths, you curled into Sirius' side; inhaling the comforting aroma of sandalwood and lavender. Sirius didn't object, pulling you slightly closer and clasping his left hand into your hair while the other stood in a respectable place on your waist.

"D'ya not wanna talk about it?" He whispered gently in your ear, praying desperately that all this affection would help you stop crying. He hoped to any God out there that it wasn't something too bad.

You shook your head slowly against his shirt. What was once white was now translucent and sticking to his skin. Had you not been crying, you likely would've made some crude joke.

"That's okay dove," he played with the roots of your hair, "is there anything you need from me?"

You loved that. He always asked what you needed instead of just assuming. He truly was a gentleman.

"Can I-" you hiccuped on a sob, "can I play with your hair, Siri? Please?"

He looked down at your disheveled form (although he still thought you were the most beautiful thing); hair messy, mascara ruined and glassy eyes and he just couldn't refuse you.

"Okay, princess. But just this once! And pinkie promise mot to tell the boys," he kissed your forehead as you moved to get a hairbrush.

You giggled, Siri always made you feel better.