Sirius Black x Reader

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You're chopping up a carrot when you're suddenly swept off your feet and lifted onto the counter. You're scared for a moment, but when you realize it's Sirius' lips that are pressed against yours, you relax and reciprocate.
He pulls back with a smile. "Hey."
"Hey yourself." You agree, breathless from both the shock and the kiss.
He wraps his arms around you. Sitting on the counter, your eyes are just above his. "Hey." He repeats.
"That was dramatic." You comment.
"Do you know who you're talking to?"
"Very true." You smile. "I'm making dinner, let me down."
"Dinner? I had other things in mind."
"What's up with you?"
"Nothing's up with me."
"Why are you being so.... like this?"
"Can it not just be because I love you? Does something have to be up for me to kiss you?"
"No, I guess not. Finish cutting the carrots. I have to put some clothes in the dryer."
"Do you want me to do that?"
"No, it's fine. It won't take long."
"You trust me with a sharp object? I feel like such a grown-up!"
"You're right. Set the table."
He laughs and begins his task.
You're folding clothes after your dinner, and look at the dirty clothes. They're divided into whites, lights, darks, and jeans.
Sirius doesn't seem to understand that the jeans go in a different place than the darks, no matter how many times you say it.
"Hey, Sirius?" You ask, going into the living room as you're folding a shirt.
"Yeah, baby?" He looks up from the book you forced upon him.
"What have I told you about the laundry?"
He considers for a minute. "The green stuff goes in a different place than the purple stuff does."
The detergent goes in a different spot than the fabric softener. His version is close enough.
"Yes, that. And?"
"And.... Put bleach in the whites?"
"And...?"
"Not to put your bras in with your sweaters." He tries again.
"Yes, and...?"
"I don't know. Enlighten me." He finally says.
"There are four spots for a reason. The jeans don't go in the same spot as the darks."
"Jeans go in a different spot. Got it. Where do they go?"
"In the blue basket beside the hamper." You repeat for what has to be the millionth time.
"Jeans in the blue basket. Got it."
"Are you sure?"
"Yes."
The next day, guess where his jeans are?
With the darks.
"Sirius!"
He comes in. "Yes, babe?"
"What's wrong with this picture?" You gesture to the laundry room.
"Did you try to drink the purple stuff too? It doesn't taste as good as it smells--"
"I'm sorry, you what?"
"Um, nothing. What's wrong with this picture?"
"I don't know. What?"
"Your jeans are with the darks. Again."
He grins and leaves the room.
He's doing it on purpose?
Time for revenge.
Sirius doesn't like when cabinets and drawers are left open.
So what does he come home to?
Every cabinet and drawer in the house is open wide.
He freeezes in the doorway.
"Hey, babe." You smile from the couch. "Have fun with James? How's Harry?"
"What happened?" He asks.
"What ever do you mean?"
You watch with satisfaction as he goes around closing things.
When he goes into the bathroom to shower that night, you hear him say, "Merlin's beard!" and the cabinets and drawers start closing.
When he comes to breakfast the next morning, everything's open again.
"I made pancakes. Sit down." You say brightly.
He closes everything and takes a seat.
You get the syrup from the pantry and leave the door open.
He twitches as he resists the urge to close it.
"Too much to handle yet?" You ask sweetly.
"I don't know what you mean."
When he comes home from a walk the next day to everything open again, he loses it. "Okay! I'll stop, I swear! I can't live with this madness in my home! The chaos is too much! I'll put the jeans in the blue basket beside the hamper! Have mercy!"
"Thank you." You smile sweetly.
He goes around and shuts the cabinets.
"You play dirty, Y/L/N." He comments once he's made his rounds.
"I learned from you." You smile.

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