𓏲ּ marauders era oneshots

really bad apples . . . sirius black.

— summary: sirius turns out to be a little more disappointed in himself after picking the apples with you for your grandmother but, you're there to help him through it.

— word count: 638. 

— lowercase intended . no features described 

"oh please sirius, i'm telling you you'll be fine, just c'mon," you repeated the promise once again from above, attempting to soothe the worries that clouded his mind as he laid on the ground — grass blending with his hair as he continued to sourly stare at his two baskets of apples that he had picked throughout the day.

you could see why he was taking it so seriously, people loved the apple pies your grandma would bake every year for one of the many parties where it was nothing but old southern women talking about the other's food and what went wrong in their own little cliques.

so, when you got the call from yours, inviting both you and sirius back home for a week or two with the full intentions of making you help out with the productions — you were a little hesitant.

but sirius being sirius, he was way too excited with the idea of having a chance to do something with your family, something he already knew meant much to you but he himself didn't exactly to interact seeing as you lived together in a flat off in london — about seven hours away from southern states.

so he was dragging you away less than a second after the phone call was stopped. but now, in a short explanation, all he could think about was how they were all so terribly picked — bruises, dents, way too soft a spot, holes, everything that could be bad with an apple, had happened to every single last one of his.

he'd probably be getting kicked out anytime now, goose bumps were coating both of your arms and the house was less than three minutes from where he laid.

"but love, you don't understand — she told me to only pick the best looking ones. we've wasted a day and she won't have enough pies for the thing," he exasperated, letting out a huff of air as he thought about getting booted out of the family right after getting in.

you softly rolled your eyes at his irrational thinking, half-amused at how worked up it had got him but still just deciding to lay down right beside him — tangling your hand with his as he gave you a lopsided smile with a look in his eyes you honestly didn't think you'd see.

did he really think your grandmother would put up too much of a fuss over it?

"look hon, if it makes you feel any better, i once picked an apple with a real gross worm in it when i was about eleven — i noticed it right after i had already added it to the good ones that were cooking," you shared in an attempt to comfort, remembering your own worry that passed through your body when you saw the little white body getting coated in cinnamon.

"but guess what, i'm still considered a/n l/n. and after this, you'll still be considered an incredibly high honorary."

you watched as he considered the words for a few moments, hoping that he wouldn't dismiss them like he did the rest since you were sure your family nearly loved him more than they did you — a little mess up wouldn't change that.

a relieved sigh exhaled from your lungs as he stared to nod his head, finally coming to the senses that should've been there in the first place.

"you're right, she likes my accent far too much to get rid of me," he grinned with the cockiness back in his tone, pressing a hard kiss into your forehead in thanks.

"well you're welcome, can we please just get up, the wind starts getting cool around this time."

"whatever you want, just ... take the bad batch i don't wanna test my luck—"