By Any Other Name; Sirius Black âď¸
âDâyou have a name, love?â He was spitting mischief into every word. âOr should I just call you angel face?â
By God, he was not pulling any punches. His voice being as silky as your knickers didnât help, nor did his wicked teeth or his lithe hands. It was a feat of its own to close your mouth, and another altogether to speak.
Your name spilled off his lips with an exhaled drag, hot and smoking and swept away by the wind.
âPleasure to meet you, angel face,â he said cheekily. âYou can call me Sirius.â
summary: by the will of mother nature, you meet your charming downstairs neighborâwho has been dying to meet you just as much.
word count: 3K
warnings: fem!r, sexually implicit comments, lots of mentions of underwear and lingerie
authors note: me đ¤đź making sirius act like my other favorite scorpio (ryan gosling)
1978. London, England.
+
More than anything in the world, you wished you had a tumble-dryer. The London winds turned brutal in autumn, and youâd lost nearly ten items of clothing before the season was done.
A pretty sundress, a flannel youâd nicked from your fatherâs dresser. A skimpy little black nighty, the top only lace and the bottom sheer satin.
That one had been the most recent, only the day before. You blamed yourself, really; You thought youâd be coy and hang it outside for the boy downstairs to see, and the wind tore it off the line and blew it to who knows where. Now some creep probably had it in his sock drawer.
Despite all of this, you still did not have a blessed tumble-dryer. Which meant even at present, in wind that mightâve blown your makeup off, you were outside clipping your soggy knickers to the line. Three clips each, thank you very much.
You canât say it was all that embarrassing. London wasnât particularly a town of modesty or shame, especially in more recent times. All the ladies along your alley hung their undies out, and no one seemed to mind. Maybe you just lived on an especially progressive block of the city. Whatever it was, you liked it.
You hummed a soft tune as you hung the last piece of clothing on the line, feeling chilly yet accomplished.
The wind had died down just slightly, leaving the clothes swinging on the lineâsuspended between your building and the one neighboring it. You peeked across to ensure that everything seemed secure, just in time to watch a pair of silky pink undies slip from their clips and fall a story down into the alley.
You clicked your tongue, promptly making your way down the fire escape to retrieve them.
As you rounded the landing to descend the second half of stairs, you were aghast to see the boy from downstairsâthe one you so desperately wanted to see your cheeky nightgownâleant against your flat building. He was smoking a cigarette languidly and intently watching your sad knickers which landed before him.
You stammered at first, unsure what to say. The remaining shreds of daylight were reflecting quite stunningly off of his pitch black hair, in a way that was all too distracting. Eventually, you settled for something apologetic.
âGod, Iâm sorry.â You inched forward until you could bend down and rescue the pink knickers from the filthy ground. You frowned at the specks of dirt on them. Youâd have to wash them all over again. Or maybe you should just toss them.
Or cast them into the sea. Perhaps donate them to a bluebird to use for nesting. God, you were embarrassed.
For a split second you became mortified with a scenario where you kept the dirty undies and this handsome-boy-downstairs wanted to shag you, only to find youâre wearing the disgusting alley knickers. Your cheeks grew hot.
You pushed the underwear behind your back then, hoping he didnât see them in full. When you looked up, he blew a cloud of smoke from his nose and smiled devilishly.
âNot to worry, darling. Iâm quite accustomed to women dropping their knickers in front of me.â
Your mouth popped open in shock. A boyish but refined laugh bubbled out of him as you failed to respond.
âDâyou have a name, love?â He was spitting mischief into every word. âOr should I just call you angel face?â
By God, he was not pulling any punches. His voice being as silky as your knickers didnât help, nor did his wicked teeth or his lithe hands. It was a feat of its own to close your mouth, and another altogether to speak.
Your name spilled off his lips with an exhaled drag, hot and smoking and swept away by the wind.
âPleasure to meet you, angel face,â he said cheekily. âYou can call me Sirius.â
âI canât call you handsome?â You blurted, and Siriusâ smile got so much worse, which is to say humbler and far more genuine.
âIf the shoe fits,â he mumbled.
A gust of wind blew and his hair billowed with it, just as he took a final drag of his cigarette. The embers lit his face warmly.
It fit. It definitely fit.
Sirius stomped his smoke out on the cobblestone and brushed his hands off on his slacks.
âI actually have something I want to give you.â Sirius inched toward his flat window, ignoring your pinched brows. âWait right there.â
Contorting his long limbs, he slipped inside and disappeared.
Within seconds he returned, holding what you instantly recognized as your black nighty. He walked it to you, growing taller with every step.
âThink this belongs to you,â he prodded. You took the garment from him, smiling coyly.
âDo you happen to have any of the other clothes Iâm missing?â You accused, and he ducked his head sheepishly.
âJust this one,â he promised, âit fell last Sunday, just here, like your knickers.â
You flushed. âSorry.â
Siriusâ expression turned boyish. âYou should be. Iâd have preferred that you came with it.â
The wind picked up again and wafted his cologne with it, something citrusy and clean. A pit stirred in your stomach.
âMaybe next time,â you murmured, and slipped up the fire escape before he could respond.
+
You sincerely didnât expect to see Sirius after that. Not because you didnât want to, but because it felt too simple. Too convenient.
Stunning, charming boy downstairs, holding onto your nightclothes to give back to youâŚ
He had to be a creep. There was no other explanation. Or worseâhe was only trying to be nice to save you from embarrassment.
You kept running through your conversation with him, adding new motivations and hidden meanings. Each one was like a warning siren, and it kept you from seeking him out.
Sirius, however, was not dissuaded at all.
A week later and it was the turn of November. The winds were cruel and rain barely ever let up, and any sunny day became laundry day.
One fateful, blessed dry Friday, you popped out to hang your loathsome clothes. If being clean was this much trouble, you werenât sure it was worth it anymore. You were halfway through the soggy hamper when someone downstairs began to whistle.
âDarling, do you do anything but laundry?â A familiar voice called, posh and smug and handsome.
You peeked over the railing, and Sirius was in the alley with an amused grin on his face.
âDo you do anything but watch me do laundry,â you shot back, which made him laugh.
Sirius was making a paper boy cap look very stylish, holding the lip of it to aid his theatrics. There was something quite old fashioned about him, even in his boyish demeanor.
âI like to hear you sing,â he defended. âYou have a pretty voice.â
You werenât sure how to respond to that. You didnât entirely realize you sang at all. Sirius shoved his hands into his pockets and looked around.
âDoes this seem a bit clichĂŠ?â
You looked around, too, at your balcony and the shaded alley; At Sirius, who was the shining image of a hopeless romantic, ready to profess his undying love.
âI suppose,â you agree. âWherefore art thou? Noâa minute is not enough.â
Sirius pushed his tongue into his cheek, grinning.
âI was imagining something else,â he said. âLet down your hairâŚOrâyour clothesline?â
You snorted.
âLuckily, this damsel has stairs.â
Smile widening, Sirius raised his eyebrows, wondering if youâd meant to invite him up. You nodded, and he took the steps two at a time.
It was charming. While you were still reserved, you couldnât help but admire his complexities. Heâd seemed so subdued upon first meeting him, but now he was almost howling with excitement.
He was completely out of place on your terrace. A sharp and shining bachelor lording over your half-dead plants and damp t-shirts. He looked like he had a tumble dryer, and an iron, too. Or a maid. Definitely a maid. It was a mystery why someone so put together was living on the floor beneath you.
âWhat,â Sirius asked, looking dubious.
âWhat?â Your cheeks warmed. Youâd been spacing out.
âYouâre looking at me weird,â he accused, but he kept a lightness in his voice. âYou donât still think I stole all your clothes, do you?â
âNo,â you denied. Then, feeling cheeky, you added, âjust the nighty, right?â
He blinked, looking shy again. âWell. Itâit fell.â
âOh, right, my mistake. It fell,â you nodded, and watched his mouth open and close.
âYâknow, most neighbors bake something if they want to make friends,â you continued, enjoying his squirming, his brown pearly loafers scuffing on the grated platform.
You thought he was handsome when you met, with his cavalier confidence and dangerous smile, but seeing him so embarrassed was just as enthralling; His fair skin flushed pink, his broad shoulders hunchedâŚhis voice turned raspy and unsure.
âI was never good in the kitchen.â He said it like it was a fatal flaw, unfixable.
âNo, of course not,â you said with unwavering mirth. âYouâd hire someone to do that, wouldnât you?â
Siriusâ head snapped up, shocked, confirming your suspicions.
âWhat are you robbing my clothesline for, rich boy,â you teased, wrinkling your nose at him.
Scratching his jaw, he blew out a bewildered laugh.
âWhat gave it away?â
You snickered, making a sweeping gesture over him. âWhat didnât?â
Sirius looked down at his pressed white dress shirt and well-fitted vest. He then ripped his hat off, deflating.
âThought I was doing a good job of fitting in,â he muttered.
âSorry,â you cooed, though you werenât sure why. It shouldâve been insulting, that this upper-class idiot was so upset at seeming as well-off as he was, but he kept striking you with an odd sincerity. He didnât seem ignorant, he just seemed lost, and you felt sorry for him.
âIf itâs any consolation, you look quite handsome.â
Sirius looked up at you through his lashes and shyly smiled.
âDo I?â He needled. You hummed affirmatively.
âIf a bit chilly. Whoâs been making your cuppas?â
Grabbing your basket, you backed away towards your window and slipped inside. You waited for Sirius to follow, hoping your invitation wasnât too indirect. Thankfully, he crawled in after you, loitering by the window awkwardly.
âWell, donât let all the heat out,â you called over your shoulder, dropping the basket onto your couch and bee-lining for the kitchen. Sirius closed the window and meandered further into your space.
âYouâre not going to poison me, are you,â he asked from your kitchen threshold, watching you put the kettle on.
âIâm not sure you should be as paranoid as me,â you said, leaning against the counter. âBut Iâm fresh out, so not this time.â
Sirius laughed. âOh, good.â
âSo,â you started, crossing your arms to mirror him, âwho are these girls dropping their undies for you? Iâm painfully curious.â
Sirius sucked his teeth, hiding a grin.
âIâm not sure you have enough tea,â he sighed solemnly. âWeâd be here all night.â
Eyes tracing over the long hands splayed over his biceps, you bit your lip.
âI can imagine,â you humored. âA pretty boy like youâŚyou never catch a break, do you?â
Sirius looked constantly unprepared for complements like this, and you couldnât get enough. He was pink and silent and restless, faltering for something witty to reply with.
In the end, he just shook his head.
When the water was hot, you made up Siriusâ tea, and he thanked you shyly as his hand brushed yours. He put far too much sugar in it, and not a spot of milk, but you found that just as charming as the rest of him. You sat at your kitchen table, smiling over your cups.
âI havenât had a good cuppa in months,â Sirius sighed, spinning his mug in absentminded circles.
âThought you had a maid,â you prodded, and Siriusâ responding smile was bittersweet.
âNot anymore,â he said quietly, ânot for a while.â
You took a slow sip of your tea, watching him carefully. As you set your cup down, you licked your lips, and Sirius instinctively copied you.
âSoâŚno maid.â You leaned back, lifting a brow. âWho presses your clothes, then?â
Sirius frowned. âI do.â
âOh.â You frowned, too. âBut you canât make a cuppa?â
âIââ Sirius chuckled. âI can make a cuppa. It just tastes better when someone else makes it.â
âAh.â Picking up your cup again, you smiled at him. âWell, Iâm happy to help.â
Sirius pulled his lip between his teeth as you drank, rubbing his hands on his slacks.
âWell Iââ he cleared his throat, ââI should go.â
Confused, you watched him as he pushed his chair back and stood, ducking to you gratefully.
âSo soon,â you complained. It was odd. Youâd been avoiding him all week, but once he was around you didnât want him to go.
âYes, well. I wouldnât want to intrude.â Sirius smiled kindly, if a little distant.
âWell, I invited you, handsome. Thatâs hardly intruding.â Your words were intentionally soft and sticky, cloying, to change his mind.
Siriusâs eyes swept over your face for a moment, his mouth chewing on words that never came out. Eventually, he left a thankful caress on your hand, where it laid dormant on the table.
âThank you for the tea,â he expressed, and then he was gone.
You sat at the table long after he left, until your tea was cold and his empty cup was dry.
+
The whole week after that, you turned your conversation with Sirius over in your mind again and again, looking for what youâd done wrong.
Heâd never seemed angry, even as he left. He was almost sullen.
In the days following, it was like heâd never existed. The alley had a Sirius-shaped hole in it every time you hung your clothes, andâas if it was missing him, tooâthe wind had stopped blowing.
Singing softly, you hung your final garments, enjoying the still evening while you could. When you sucked in a new breath, it was thick with the scent of burning tobacco. You looked down through the slats, and as you expected, Sirius was leaning where he was when youâd first met him.
Sucking your bottom lip, you looked at the cloth in your hands, and then back at Sirius. At the sudden absence of your voice, heâd looked up, and your gaze met his. He stilled, the ash growing perilous on his smoke, and watched as you held your dark nightgown over the railing. You let it go, and watched Sirius sigh, tracking its feathery fall to the ground.
When he looked back up, you were already halfway down the rickety stairs.
âDarling, donâtââ
âYou know, itâs rotten manners to leave a girl wondering what sheâs done wrong,â you scolded, plucking the gown off of the cobblestones. âEspecially after being so charming all the time.â
Sirius winced. âIâm sorry.â
He looked frustratingly good, more casual than youâd ever seen him. His hair was messy and his collar unbuttoned, sleeves rolled to the elbow. It only made you bolder.
âWell,â you prodded, âwonât you at least tell me?â
He furrowed his brows, his cigarette long forgotten between his fingers.
âTell you what?â
âWhat I did,â you huffed, exasperated.
His face crumpled.
âDarling,â Sirius stressed, ânothing. Youâre the loveliest neighbor Iâve ever had.â
The compliment felt like an insult, calculatedly detached, and you wondered if youâd invented the whole thing in your head.
âWhyâd you leave, then?â
Sirius shifted, his expensive shoes crunching on the ground.
âI didnât want to impose.â
Unbelieving, you shook your head in disappointment. It mustâve been something awfully offensive if he still wouldnât tell you.
âI canât afford the expensive teas, so if it tasted oddââ
ââLove, it wasnât the tea, itâsââ Sirius licked his lips, hesitating. âI shouldnât have taken it.â
Lost, the corners of your mouth pulled down. Sirius sighed.
âThe gown, Iââ He gestured to the satin in your hands. âIt was inappropriate. Iâm sorry.â
Avoiding your eyes, he finally ashed his cigarette, but left it abandoned in his hand. Stepping closer, you batted your lashes at his shameful face.
âSirius, if it worried me, I wouldnât have invited you inside.â
âIt should worry you!â His face contorted. âIt was manipulative and debauchedââ
âDebauched!â You grinned, eyes bright. âWhat exactly did you do to my nightgown, hm?â
Siriusâ mouth pursed disapprovingly. âLove, please.â
You stepped closer, pouting.
âYou didnât imagine me in it?â Sirius shook his head passionately, but his cheeks warmed. âShame. I hung it for you, you know.â
Sucking in a breath, his cigarette met the ground as you waded closer. You reached out, tugging on the top button of his vest.
âWill it take a cyclone for you to ask me out?â
Sirius let out a heavy breath and shook his head. When he said no more, you tilted your head and pulled him into you.
âWell then?â
His eyes searched yours.
âGo on,â you said. âIâm not sure someone who likes his tea with seven sugars could be very scary.â
Brightening, Sirius took your hand where it fiddled with his vest. You watched with heat in your chest as he brought it to his face and pressed his mouth to it. He then turned it over and did the same to your open palm.
âCould I please take you out, angel face?â His breath was hot on the inside of your hand, sending chills up your neck. âTo repay you for the stunning cuppa?â
Chuckling, you traced a feather-light finger over his jaw.
âCertainly.â You licked over your teeth. âIâll wear my driest knickers.â
His smile slipped into wicked territory.
âDonât sweat it, love.â A big hand smoothed over your shoulder, and you melted. âYouâll only be wasting your time.â
+
thank you for reading! đŚ˘
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crimson rivers thoughts (18)
@tastetherainbow290
chapter 47
oh weâre just going right into this arenât we
regulus thinking of james and sirius thinking of remus â¤ď¸âđŠš
âsirius is very boredâ sirius is so me
so this is why itâs called the maze
mavis and velvet đ
sirius saving regulus and regulus just punches him in the face and steals his supplies đ heâs such a menaceÂ
marlene âšď¸
omg
eli ?!
regulus pov switch
he isnât with the death eaters!
this bag is very helpful
oh! đ
wow regulus just lying left and rightÂ
no not sirius đ§
chapter 48
james pov the dramatic irony
đśsigned sealed delivered iâm yoursđś
good thing coen died after regulus lied bc that could have been not good
regulus becoming a death eater this is so canon coded and im devastatedÂ
âEverything I do in that arena, it's for you.â count: 18
sirius pov
iâm imagining the maze like the one in goblet of fireÂ
đśdonât call me kid donât call me babyđś
alice and augusta fightingÂ
what are these dark forms đ§
statues?!
MARLENE NO
she lives!!!!!
veneer was one of my vocab wordsÂ
regulus scared of making friends with rabastan bc of evan đ
remus being mad at regulus đ
now heâs scared for them what is lucius plotting
chapter 49
WHAT IS THISÂ
i know itâs a dream
but
ugh
i want them to have this for real
"You remind me that happiness existsâ â¤ď¸âđŠš
nooo itâs sad now
oh no itâs raining
sirius immediately wanting to go find regulus
marlene still has the ring!!!
dorcas being sad for regulus âšď¸ we all are
âyou know just as well as many others what my mouth can do.â lily is such an icon
âthe plot thickensâÂ
âI keep telling her I know exactly how to make her feel better, but she insists she's a married woman, and also far too old for meâ lily đđ
james pulling a regulusÂ
âno one even knewâ đ
(thinking of you runar) A BAGEL!!!!! iâm gonna cry james is so sweet
reggie smiling â¤ď¸âđŠš
"You're getting googly-eyed over a bagel?" đ
â???â what does that mean james
captain obvious
đ§
HANDS?!
camilla đ§
sirius??
âHe has had dreams of Regulus, ah, using his dagger duringâŚintimate momentsâ JAMES đ
black brothers reunited! in a violent manner, but reunited nonetheless!
chapter 50
oh theyâre fightingÂ
no reggie donât kill sirius
regulus gaslighting camilla into thinking she isnât the one who killed coen đ menace
sirius using reggieâs full name đ
âI was going to lose James anyway, don't you get it?! I never even really got to have him! But youâI got you back. I had you back, and you took that from me.âÂ
âšď¸âšď¸âšď¸âšď¸âšď¸âšď¸âšď¸âšď¸
oh???
sirius and regulus are so me and my sister this is. ah letâs move on from that thought
regulus did you justÂ
regulus donât you DARE
heâs so me i canât this is horrible
sirius just beating him ok
oh.
im gonna cry.Â
âRegulus isn't going to do some sort of sacrificial suicideâat least not yet.â đ§
this is devastating i need them to Get Out Of The Arena
the notes; âbfb regulus đ¤ crimson rivers regulus: pretending to threaten remus' life đđđâ BAH STOP if you havenât read best friends brother you absolutely should i was expecting to dislike it bc i donât like modern AUs but i loved it
that is enough for today.
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