#sirius would be so petty about it

[impishtubist]

The petty hill I'm willing to die on in this fandom is that Sirius's eyes aren't actually gray.

[thebestofoneshots]

tastes | Marauders x Reader

Pairing: J.P. x S.B. x R.L x Female Reader

Word Count: 5.3k

Warnings: Smut, finger fucкing, oral (male receiving), P in V, lots of praise (especially from Remus), Sirius gets all the love he deserves, consent is sexy, lusty!boys, сreаm piе, they literally can't take their eyes off you.

Prompt: Inspired by the sense of taste. Reader has a very strong gag reflex, so the boys have never asked you to blow them, and you love them for it. But today, you want to taste them.

tastes is part of The Five Senses: an anthology series where each chapter will be a stand-alone story, inspired by the different ways we have of perceiving the world around us.

18+ readers only (smut under the cut)

Cum Feel The Noize

You had always had pretty strong gag reflex, just brushing your tongue while you brushed your teeth made you want to puкe sometimes, it wasn’t ideal, but it was what you were born with so you settled. 

The boys knew, you’d been friends with them long before you started dating, and you had been pretty vocal about it, really, you were just so comfortable with them around that you didn’t mind talking about those things.

“What about sucking a dicк?” Sirius asked, half teasingly, half because he’d been genuinenly curious. He got elbowed by James after asking, but you just laughed.   

“Nah, it’s fine,” you told James dismissively “In truth, I’ve never done that.” 

“Never, ever? Not even the tip?” Asked James impressed, now curious as well. You shook your head as an answer.

“Not even when you dated that stupid Harland boy?” asked Remus. They all hated Harland because they all liked you, even then, a few months before you started all dating each other.

“Harland?” you asked in disbelief “Hell no! He asked a couple of times but, I just couldn’t do it,” you admitted “I really didn’t want to puкe all over his dicк.” 

“Understandable,” Remus nodded. 

“Yeah, you’d think. That’s why we broke up tho.” 

“What? Shut up!” James said, almost standing straigther.

“No, it’s true!” you said with a nod “He said there were plenty other girls in the market, and that most of them would die just to get the chance to suck him off.”

“And what did you tell him?” Sirius asked. 

“To fuck off,” you said with a laugh “didn’t even like him that much anyway,” you said with a sight, “But he’s so petty, he asked me to go see him in one of the abandoned classrooms to give me back some of my stuff, but he had just gotten a girl to blow him there. So when I arrived–” 

James gasped, he had his mouth open wide, completely shocked.

“–Poor girl, she was so embarrassed ‘cause she thought we were still dating. Which in hindsight, probably makes is worse. Anyway, he tried to go after me and jinxed him.” 

“We thought you stopped dating because he moved away.” 

“Nope, he moved away because the girl told all her friends about it and gave him the worst reputation.” 

Fast forward to now, you had been dating them for almost a year, and they had, never once, asked you to suck them off, not even by accident, which only made you love them even more, making you realize they truly listened, the difference abysmal between them and Harland, who’d asked hundreds of times, and your boys, who actually cared about you and your limits. And since they also had each other to have fun with it, neither of them missed out on getting blowjobs all that often either. Benefits of being in a poly relationship. 

But the boys were always so caring, and so giving, both in and outside of the bedroom, that you really wanted to give back to them. In fact, seeing the way James sucked Remus once, made you want to test it yourself, mouth watering at the thought. You had done your research too, asked your friends about their techniques and paid a lot more attention when they were doing each other, making mental notes of the things they clearly liked and the things they didn’t. For the first time in your life, you actually wanted to try. 

So, on Sirius’ birthday, you thought it’d be your chance. The boy had asked Peter for the room and he happily left the three of them to do their thing while going to bunk with his own girlfriend. Remus had been the one to pick you up at your room with the invisibility cloak that day. 

“You ready luv?” he asked tenderly when you got out of your room, quickly enveloping you in the cloak as he stood behind you.

“Very ready,” you said with a little smirk, which had Remus raise one of his eyebrows. Did you plan something? That’s definitely your “I’ve planned something” tone.

He dipped his head in the crook of your neck and gave it a short whiff “You’re wearing Sirius’ favourite perfume,” he mouthed, you could feel his lips brushing against your skin, already sending warmth to your core. “What else?” 

 You smiled mischievously “Nothing else,” you admitted. 

A rush of blood went straight to his cock when he heard you say that so confidently, and he finally peaked from his spot in your neck, looking through the thin white shirt you were wearing, he could see your nipple perking underneath the fabric, marking it ever so slightly. “Fuck, dove you’re such a tease.” 

You shrugged, turning to press a kiss to his cheek, realizing how blown out his pupils were already, “You know how much Sirius loves it.” 

He slid his hands under your skirt, only feeling the outside of your tight, all the way to your waist, as if trying to feel if you really had nothing underneath at the bottom. “Yeah, he’s not the only one,” he grunted, digging his digits a little, just below your pelvis. You pressed yourself to him a little more, realizing he was already getting turned on, even from such a short interaction, which only fueled you even more, turning completely around you wrapped your fingers on his neck and brought him down for a kiss. He complied, pushing you against a nearby wall as he kissed back, hands still extended above his head to keep the cloak covering the two of you. When you finally separated, you were both panting, his lips were already pink from the stimulation, and he brought one of his hands down to accommodate his pants, they were already making him uncomfortable. 

“Come on handsome,” you told him with a smile, butting your bottom lip for a mere second and pulling at his bicep ever so slightly, “Why don’t we continue the party inside?” 

When you arrived at their room, Sirius was on his bed, sketching something in his notebook while James was setting up the record player. After all the initial plan had been to just chill and listen to music together. But you all knew that wasn’t going to be the end of the story from the moment the suggestion left Remus’ lips. 

You went straight to Siri, pressing a chaste kiss over his mouth as you laid down next to him “Happy birthday Puppy!” 

“That’s like the 10th time today you say that,” James teased. 

“It’s probably just an excuse to snog him,” added Remus. 

You shrugged and leaned in again, pressing another short kiss to Sirius’ soft lips “Happy birthday,” you whispered again. 

Sirius just smiled, he loved when you showered him with attention, he had always had a knack for being the center of it, but when he was the center of yours, it made him soar, “You can snog me without wishing me happy birthday kitten, in fact, you can snog me whenever the hell you want.” 

You laughed at the suggestive little smirk he made and searched with your hand to grab his. Sirius would definitely go crazy with how much attention you were all about to give him. He leaned in a little closer, dipping his head in the crook of your neck as he turned  “You smell nice,” he whispered. 

James almost jumped to the bed, placing the top half of his body over the bottom half of yours, his head looking at you from above your belly, “Don’t act like we aren’t in the room,” he said with a pout, placing a hand over your bare leg. 

“We weren’t,” Sirius said, still from the crook of your neck “We were just giving you a show,” he added in the end, you could feel the smirk in his tone. Remus laughed, still standing in the middle of the room as he took off his sweater, passing it over his head, slowly, Remus was the most patient of the three; unless you were close to the moon.

You took a deep breath, feeling James’ forearm press against your belly as you did, he leaned down over them and noticed. “You’re not wearing a bra today,” he said as he raised just the edge of your shirt to get a peak. 

“And it’s not the only thing I didn’t put on,” you said teasingly. 

Sirius turned to you shocked “Shut up.” 

“Why don’t you see it for yourself,” you said with a smirk. Sirius didn’t think twice as he dipped his hand under your skirt. Unlike Remus, he went straight to your slick, feeling how wet you already were. 

“Bloody hell kitten, you’re soaked,” he said, now his own eyes blown out in lust “Wait, why are you so…?” he turned to Remus, who just shrugged in response, a cheeky smile playing on his face. He narrowed his eyes at him and turned back to you, “fine then… my turn,” he said, lightly pushing James off you as he grabbed you by the waist and placed you on top of him, you were now straddling him, each leg to the side of his. The friction of his pants in your core, only making you all the more turned on, you ground yourself against him, which had him moan, if ever so lightly. James had placed one hand over your tight as he moved to kiss Sirius’ neck. Today was his day, after all. 

You smiled, slowly grinding yourself against the boy one more time before leaning in to kiss him on the lips. Remus was sitting on the bed beside yours, lousily looking at the three of you as he patted himself. After a couple more kisses, you reached your hand under Sirius’ shirt, and both you and James pulled Sirius on a sitting position so you could completely remove it, gently passing it over his head. James didn’t leave him lay back down though, he pressed himself behind him to gain better access to his neck instead. 

You smiled, still kissing Sirius as you fumbled your fingers over the button of his trousers. “Someone’s thirsty,” he teased. 

“You wouldn’t know how much,” you whispered enigmatically. There it is again, Remus thought, she’s onto something. With the help of James, you managed to remove Sirius’ pants too. Playing with the hem of his trousers as you continued to grind onto his leg. Now it was your turn, moving in tandem with James, the two of you managed to lay Sirius back, over James’ chest, who rubbed soft circles on his arms as he watched you grind onto his boyfriend. Sirius was malleable, in fact, at this point, he would let you do whatever the hell you wanted with him, he wasn’t sure he was even still on earth. 

Finally, you pulled his boxers down, pulling back just a little when his thick cock sprang out, pressing against his stomach from the force of the release. You licked your lips but stood back straight, taking your time to throw the boxers somewhere. Remus smiled, you were being fast tonight, maybe he’ll get his turn faster than– 

He lost his train of thought, you had dropped kisses all over Sirius’ stomach and your face was dangerously close to his cock. It wasn’t unusual that you played and rubbed their cocks with your hands, but you usually kept your head a little further away from them. 

He almost completely lost it when he noticed you playing with Sirius’ tights, pressing kisses against them as you spread them a little with your hands. That was a move he knew all too well, he’d done it several times. Finally, when you leaned down and pressed your lips against Sirius’ cock, it was he who jumped out of James’ grasp, Remus crossing the distance that there was in between the two of you with two long strides. 

“Kitten what are you–” Sirius asked, his throat dry. 

“–what do you think?” you said, motioning to his cock. 

“But your gag reflex sweetheart,” James said, he was peering through Sirius’ shoulders. 

Your heart warmth at the boys’ concern, “I wanna try,” you added. 

“Are you sure? You don’t have to do it… If you feel pressured into it because it’s my birthday then–” 

“–It’s not that,” you cut him off “I want to try.”  

“Are you very sure luv?” Remus asked, he had leaned down near the bed to level his head with yours. 

You nodded “Positive.” 

“Sirius can be a little desperate sometimes,” James added “We can help you hold him in place so he doesn’t accidentally jerk too hard into your throat, How does that sound?” 

You peered to look at him through your lashes, Sirius thought you’d never looked more stunning “If Sirius is all right with that.” 

The boy in question nodded excitedly, and James leaned a little to the side, pressing one of his legs, while Remus held him from the other side. 

“We’re ready,” Remus said with a short nod. 

You nodded in response, taking a deep breath, and leaned back down pressing little kisses on Sirius’ soft abdomen before placing your hand over his balls. You’d seen James do it, and Sirius seemed to like it when he did. 

Judging by the way he moaned, he also enjoyed it when you did. After kneading them a little more, and rubbing circles over his tight with your other hand, you placed your hand around his cock, pumping it a couple of times before finally leaning down, placing a light kiss over his tip. The sound Sirius emitted was so sinful, you felt your arousal dripping from your cunt. 

James had moved over the bed, one hand still over Sirius’ leg, the other on his cock, he was watching mouth dry as you leaned down on Sirius. He had only dreamed of you doing such a thing, never daring to ask for it. 

You took a deep breath, and went for a long lick, all the way from shaft to the end. Remus smirked, such a tease, he thought. 

Sirius moaned again, head plopping back into the pillows James had placed when he moved to the side.

Remus hummed “Stop teasing him so much sweetheart,” he said as he placed a hand on the side of Sirius’ face, brushing lightly from his temple to his neck all the while looking tenderly at the boy, “He might just combust in flames if you keep it up.” 

You stroked Sirius one more time, brushing your thumb over his tip the way you knew he liked so much and then you leaned down again, this time wrapping your mouth around his tip. You didn’t go down too deep at first, only really staying around the tip, making sure to test how much you could actually fit into your mouth without it getting uncomfortable. 

You started moving your tongue around his tip, nipping and teasing. Another moan escaped from Sirius’ mouth, James didn’t know where to look as he touched himself, either at you or Sirius’ pleasure-driven face. At some point, you felt a slight buckle of Sirius’ hips, or at least an attempt of it, since both James and Remus had managed to restrain him from moving too much. 

“Please,” he begged. You knew exactly what he wanted. When he got all whinny like that, it was because he wanted you to pick up the pace, either by stroking him faster or bobbing your hips up and down his length. You squeezed slightly with your hand since you knew how much he liked it when you clenched your “tight little pussy” around him. And finally, you started to bob your head up and down, slowly, taking in very little of him in your mouth at first. Testing the waters.

Sirius emitted the kind of groan you only heard of him when he was so deep into you, he couldn’t think of anything else. You then felt Remus’ hand, the one he wasn’t using to hold Sirius’s hip, moving under your skirt. Slowly moving up until he reached the tender flesh of the inside of your tight. And then he went further up, tracing your slit with his long finger. 

“Fuck,” he whispered, “Pads, if you could feel how wet she is at this point… she’s practically dripping.”

Remus knew exactly what he was doing, Sirius was as much into physical pleasure as emotional, much like you were, and Remus was well aware knowing such a thing would set his boyfriend on fire, he wasn’t wrong, you could feel his hips trying to buckle into your mouth again, only to be stopped by the boys’ strong hands.  

Remus did not remove his hand either, he kept playing around your slit, slowly parting with two fingers as you perked your ass just a bit more for easier access, which just had him grin. You moaned when he placed one of his fingers over your clit and started rubbing, Remus had the most confident grip when it came to finger fucking you, and he always delivered. 

You started taking in a bit more of Sirius, forcing yourself a little over what you’d consider your comfort zone. Every moan his noises and Remus’ hands pulled from you, reverberating across his cock and bringing him closer. 

“Sweethea… aaaah, fuck.” Sirius was trying to tell you something, but the way his moans sounded, you knew exactly what he wanted to say. 

Regardless, it was James who took his hand away from his own cock and bought it to caress your back, “Kitten…” he said softly, you eyed him, not stopping the way you moved your mouth around Sirius, which almost got him to lose his train of thought, “Kitten, Sirius is about to come,” he informed. 

You hummed in response, being aware of it already. You knew. Finally, that brought Remus back into the conversation “Wait, luv, does that mean you’re going to…” you hummed again. 

“fuck,” you heard him whisper. She’s gonna swallow, he thought, not being able to keep his eyes off you. 

Sirius was just as impressed, even if he wasn’t thinking much at this point, he had brought his hand down, and he toyed with your hair before settling it just over the back of your neck, he wasn’t pushing though, he was rubbing soft circles with his thumb, even amongst all the madness you’d brought to him, he was still thinking of your comfort. 

You drove your head up and down three more times, and then you felt it, warm and a little salty, spurring into your mouth. And as you had planned you swallowed it all, helping Sirius ride through his orgasm by still bobbing your head a couple of times. 

“It’s ok sweetheart,” you heard James, he still had his hand on your back “He’s done, you can stop.” 

You did, slowly taking your mouth out and letting your head fall over Sirius’ belly, making sure to keep your ass up so Remus wouldn’t stop toying with your pussy, which he wasn’t planning on either way. Sirius looked at you, breath heavy as he wrapped his hand over your cheek, “That was incredible sweets, and for your first time.” 

You pressed a soft, gentle kiss to his stomach, and then turned your eyes back to him “I’d been observing you…” you said. Being stoped by your own moan as Remus drove a finger inside of you “taking notes of what each of my boys likes best.” 

“fuck you’re so tight,” the boy whispered, only James heard, you and Sirius were too wrapped in your own little bubble. 

“Have you now?” he said with a teasing smile, “you might become the best of the three,” he whispered, it earned him a smack from James, who had been attentively watching the way Remus finger fucked you, imagining how it would look like without the skirt. 

“Next time you beg for me to blow you after a game I’ll tell you to go beg elsewhere,” he teased. Which earned a chuckle from you and Sirius. 

“I want to see,” Sirius added, motioning to Remus’ hand under your skirt. 

“That makes two of us,” James said as he grabbed you by the waist and pulled you into a sitting position, you whined in response, almost crying at the loss of Remus’ expert fingers. 

“It’s ok baby, we’re just gonna reposition,” James cooed, and he started to unbutton your shirt as Remus got on the bed, taking off his shirt in one swift motion before helping James remove yours. The boys moved in tandem, smoothly as if they knew exactly what the other was about to do next, which perhaps they did, since they knew each other so well. Once the shirt was off, you felt the cold air perk your nipples, giving both boys sitting in front of you their own little show. While that was going on, Remus was the one to unbutton and unzip your skirt, lifting you up towards him as James pulled it off. 

Remus placed you in between his legs, enjoying the feeling of the soft bare skin of your back flushing against his torso. He hadn’t yet removed his pants, but you could feel how hard he was under them, so hard it’s gotta be painful.

But Remus had only two moods, either being patient or being desperate; today he was the first one, so when you rocked your hips back, trying to get a reaction, he just held you down “Steady on sweetheart, let us enjoy you first.” 

And they were going to enjoy you, while Remus spread you wide open, carefully passing your feet over his legs so they would stay in position, James had leaned in to spread soft kisses on your neck. All of you facing Sirius, who was just smiling darkly at the sight. 

Remus was slow at first, passing a hand over your inner tight, massaging the soft skin before getting closer to your slit. Even then, he just massaged around it “Remus!” you whined, which only earned him a chuckle. 

“What is it luv?” he asked, playing dumb. 

“Yeah, what is it?” James asked, unlaching his lips from your neck and turning to you, joining the teasing. 

“Please!” you added, grabbing onto Remus’ hand and placing it on your slit. 

Finally, he complied, tracing his strong fingers over your slit, still impossibly wet. James had already moved on to kiss one of your nipples, nipping and teasing the tender skin. Sucking it into peaks before laying it back with his tongue. One of his hands had been placed in the small of your neck, and the other on your other breast, making sure not to let it skip on the fun. 

“How are you three so goddamned beautiful?” you heard Sirius mumble as he enjoyed the view. 

This time around, after toying with your clit once more, Remus placed two fingers inside instead of one, which had you gasp, but he just smiled devilishly as he thrusted them in and out, eliciting one of his favourite sounds in the world, your moans. While lost in bliss, you felt James’ cock brush against your skin, which made you remember how forgotten you had left him tonight, so you reached out and brushed your hand around it, brushing your thumb over the tip a couple of times, earning a couple of moans from him. 

“Yes, please,” he whispered, and you complied, finally starting to stroke him. James did not stop the kissing as you continued to move your hand up and down his length, only moaning your name a couple of times, and squeezing your breast a little tighter when he was close. 

You were just as close, you realized Remus had been not only finger fucking you, but preparing you as well, slowly stretching you out with the help of his two fingers. Remus was big, and without stretching, he just didn’t fit in. And if he was stretching you out, then it meant he knew he’d get your wet little cunt tonight and it only fueled him more and turned you on even more in return. You buckled your hips against his fingers a couple of times, and his pace became faster. Just like your stroking around James’ cock. 

James came first, thrusting into your hand as his cum dripped all over it, finally unlatching himself from your nipples and breathing heavily as he stared dumbly at you and Remus, lips parted and slightly red, just the sight of it made you buckle your hips against Remus’ hand once again. He was about to take his wand to clean your hand with it, when Remus used his free hand to bring it over to his mouth and ran his tongue from your wrist bone to your fingers, licking most James’ cum along, which James swore made his cock twitch again. 

And then Remus turned to you, not slowing down the pace on your pussy, but looking as calm as unbothered as if he were a teacher asking a student for an answer “Do you want to taste him too, sweetheart?” 

You nodded, and he pushed your hand towards your mouth, carefully placing the soft section between your thumb and your wrist right over your lips, it was the only section still covered with James’ cum, and you slowly brought your lips around it, sucking carefully on your hand and letting your lips slowly go back to their place as Remus’ pulled your hand out. James was a little saltier than Sirius, but also relatively sweet.

“fuck… i’m gonna end up getting hard again,” you heard James’ groan, which had Sirius chuckle as he pulled the boy towards him. 

“Come Prongs, enjoy the show with me,” he said with a smile. James leaned in and gave Sirius a short kiss before leaning on his shoulder. 

“All right sweetheart, your turn,” Remus said as he brought his index finger from the other hand to your clit, you leaned your head back on his shoulder, buckling your hips against him with more conviction now that you weren’t distracted by anything else. 

His pace quickened and you moaned and whined under his expert hands “Hmmm… please Rem, I’m about to…” 

“It’s ok baby, be good and come all over my fingers,” he cooed, and you did, harshly pulling your head back as you allowed him to finger fuck you to oblivion. “There we go, such a good girl for me, isn’t that right?” he praised, as he brought his hand, still wet with your slick over to his mouth and sucked sinfully over the two fingers that were inside of you, moaning as he tasted your juices. He then turned back to you again. “Now, are you gonna allow me to fuck that tight little pussy of yours tonight or do you feel too tired already?” 

You wanted nothing more than for Remus to stretch you up just right, so you nodded, head still a little foggy from the high, “Please Remus,” you added for good measure, moving your hips back just to feel him press against you one more time. 

Finally, you moved to the side, allowing the boy to take both his pants and underwear off before he laid down on the bed, Remus knew it was easier for you to be the one to ride him, at least at first –and when he was the first one– since that way you had a little more control over how big he was, and he was always more than happy to let you do it, in fact, he quite enjoyed the way your breast bounced as you bobbed up and down his length. And he knew the boys liked it just as much, so he strategically laid in a way so that they would get a good view of you. 

You slowly straddled him, placing both knees on each side of his hip before rubbing yourself against his cock a couple of times, causing him to moan this time. You were still so fucking wet.

Eventually, you lifted yourself up and lined him with your entrance. He placed both of his hands around your hips, to help hold you up as you slowly pushed yourself down, moaning as you went as deep as you could. Remus had responded to your tightness with a grunt, truth be told he’d been dreaming of it from the moment he went to pick you up. 

You started bobbing up and down his length, slow at first, but picking up that pace as your walls got used to his size. Remus had his hands on your waist, helping you move easily as he started to thrust up into you, reaching the right spot. “fuck… yes,” you said breathily as he continued thrusting.

“So fucking tight,” Remus breathed as he helped you ride him, completely focused on you, on your parted lips, your soft huffs and moans; you were absolutely entrancing in the way you moved your hips on him, “You’re taking me in so well sweetheart…” 

You moaned, and clenched around him, which just caused him to buckle against you even harder. That got you to whimper and you brought both of your palms to lay over his shoulders, to hold yourself better as you continued to rock your hips on the boy, “Baby… if you keep that up I’m not gonna last,” he added, and just to tease him, you clenched again, eliciting a moan from the boy so sinful, it fueled you to keep moving, faster this time around.

“So beautiful, aren’t they Prongs?” you heard Sirius say, almost not quite registering it with the way Remus’ cock trusted into you right after. The other boy hummed in response, not able to take his eyes off the way you were moving. 

When Remus was close, he switched the two of you around, laying you flat on the bed as he brought one of his hands over to your clit, “Be a good girl and come for me one last time sweetheart,” he said as he continued to thrust. Holding back his own orgasm, he wanted to hear you moan his name as he came. 

And after a few more flicks and circles of his thumb, with his pace quickening, you came, “hmm Remus…” you whispered as he continued to thrust inside of you, the way your walls clenched around tipping the boy over the edge, he had hold it back so long, he practically grunted into your ear and spiled inside of you.

Eventually, he pulled back, staring at your pussy as he panted, you knew what he wanted and so you squeezed, allowing the thick white liquid to spill from your inside, dripping from your entrance to the back of your ass. Remus really liked to see the evidence of fucking you, somehow satisfying his most primal desires, or so he’d told you once. 

Remus brought one of his hands back to your cunt, you shivered with the contact since you were still slightly overstimulated, but he didn’t budge, using his middle and index to gather some of your combined juices, he angled his head cockily, “Are you gonna taste me tonight as well sweetheart?” he asked. 

You smiled wickedly, using your elbows to prop yourself up and leaning in towards the boy’s hand, not bothering to answer as you opened your mouth and wrapped it around both of his fingers, making sure to let your lips pull as you slowly hollowed your mouth and pulled yourself back, licking your lips as you completely separated from the boy. Remus had not been expecting that, his cocky demeanour faltering as his mouth dried. Remus was the sweetest of the three. 

A/N: this is the third piece of smut I’ve written so far, and omg this definitely got out of hand. Regardless… I do feel like I’m getting the hang of it. Maybe? A little bit? At least I don’t feel the cringe, anymore. Saying that, I do still stop myself every now and then and wonder “what the hell am I writing?” In a “I’d be burned in the stake for imagining these things” sort of way haha! Either way, I’m having fun, and that’s what matters!

The Five Senses was born as a way for me to practice writing smut for my brand new Wolfstar x Reader series that's currently being posted on a weekly basis. If you have feedback, please leve it in the comment below. I absolutely love reading your comments <3

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[priniya]

📸 BETTER THAN REVENGE

synopsis. after a fight with sirius, regulus comes to his girlfriend sulking and she decides to have a little talk with his older brother.

notes. regulus black x malfoy!reader

you and regulus had many more similarities than anyone could guess just by simply looking at the two of you. the most obvious included your background — ancient, pureblood families, who were nuts about purity, both in slytherin, both richer than most of the hogwarts students together, and in everyone’s eyes you were petty, stubborn and pretentious.

you two were petty and seemed pretentious, but it wasn’t all that. the two of you both had siblings, who maybe cared about you in some way, but never showed it well enough for you to be sure they cared. you were sure sirius cared, but you weren’t sure if lucius did. your brother was far from being a family guy.

both you and regulus were also painfully ambitious, and it kind of made the two of you so close as you were paired to one group in slughorn’s classes, and to secure yourself a top spot, you had to work together. and so half a year later, you were planning a trip to france, lying next to each other on the bed in his dorm.

after that one summer everything has changed, and now you two were an official couple, though not many people knew since neither of you wanted to make a big deal out of it. the amount of classes you shared had shrunken since you took different ones, but it just made your bond stronger.

it all happened on a week before both of you were supposed to return to your respective houses (though, regulus would be staying at potter’s), you were wrapping your present for barty, when your boyfriend stormed into the room. pandora, who sat there with you, claimed she would leave you two alone and left. you could easily see that something happened from the look on his face.

“reg,” you began, eyebrows furrowed at his sudden appearance. “is everything alright, love?” a soft ask left your lips as he just laid down on your bed, face buried in a pillow.

silence filled your room right after you finished your sentence. it was time for you to just sigh quietly, putting a hand on his back and scratching it gently. “you know you can talk to me, right?” your soft tone and the sensation of your nails on his back made him grunt.

“i’m not leaving for christmas.” he stated, catching you a little off guard. you were sure it was about the upcoming christmas ball that slughorn threw and since you were invited, regulus was ought to go with you. “i… got into a fight with sirius, so either we make up or i’m gonna go to my parents.” now, he was looking at you with misery and sadness flickering in his eyes.

“he thinks james is more of a brother to him than i am.” regulus adds, his head now resting on top of your laps as you play with his hair, trying to comfort him at least a little. “and he says it’s not that big of a deal, since i consider evan and barty my brothers and i’d probably say that they’re more of brothers to me than he is, but that’s not true.”

his words made your heart ache. it was clear to everyone in your friend group (including remus, who often just tagged along) to know how much regulus needed sirius’ validation, how much he needed to be reassured that he doesn’t hate him as much as regulus thought he did.

“i know we haven’t talked until he moved out, but it still hurts.” he whispered, not even looking you in the eyes. “and he doesn’t even recognize how much he means to me. he’s the only one in our entire family that matters more than everything. i got his initials and constellations tattooed and he thinks i would choose barty and evan over him?”

“you’re brother is an idiot, and i mean it.” you murmured, showering his head with kisses. if regulus was in his usual mood, he would say he just acts like an idiot, but now? he didn’t even want to defend him. “i’ll stay with you. i’d go nuts if i had to spend a minute with lucius.” you say softly, fingers running through his hair.

it took you a few more minutes to comfort him enough to leave your dorm for his evening practice, and even though you were supposed to finish packing your presents before christmas. you had to talk to one, annoying gryffindor, who was no other than sirius black.

getting into their common room was easy, lily, friend of a friend of yours, let you in after hearing your explanation, showing you how to get into sirius’ dorm that he shared with james, remus and peter. “one of you better hold me or i might kill your friend.” you let out, looking specifically remus, who looked at you with a glint of surprise.

“what did he do again?” lupin asked, his expression scolding. “what’re you doin’ here, malfoy?” peter began, but before he could elaborate, remus put a hand on his shoulder and shook his head as you looked for the perfect words.

“how can you be such an asshole, black?” you hissed, the end of your wand pointed at his throat. “one time you’re all on being the best older brother you can, but next time all i see in yourself is my brother, and believe me, that’s the furthest from a compliment.”

“i’m not done, yet.” your teeth gritted, eyes narrowed at him. “he’d never choose anyone over you, yet you’d always choose him —” you looked at james for half a second, then turned your eyes to sirius, again. “— over your own brother, who’d jump into flames just if you asked him to? unbelievable.” you sighed, putting your wand down, sliding it into your boot. “and you know what’s the worst in all that? that i wish he’d pick anyone else over you, but he won’t, because he can’t even get mad at you for not choosing him, he’s just sad.”

the atmosphere in the room is so tense, someone could cut it with knife. “you’re an idiot for making regulus feel so little about himself, and y’all are idiots for letting him.” another sight left your lips as your eyes were locked with sirius. “maybe even regulus will let you treat him like shit, but i won’t, black. i’ll make sure to haunt your dreams and turn them into nightmares, i can promise you that.” you gave him your most ironical smile. “i’m a malfoy, don’t underestimate me, cutie pie.” you sent him a wink,

“protective girlfriend, huh?” remus chuckled as you passed him, giving you a high-five. “oh you bet, lupin.” and you left, sirius almost shamless at your sudden outburst, but… it was quite impressive — though, he’d never admit it.

you haven’t seen neither of them till the next morning at breakfast, when they walked to the great hall together, talking about something until each of them got to their respective tables. “what did you do?” regulus asked, sitting on the bench beside you.

“what?” you asked with a sweet smile, nudging him lightly with your elbow. “just had a small talk with sirius, why?”

“a small talk? with the tip of your wand pressed against his throat?” you nodded at his words, sending him a fake-puzzled look. “you know i love you?” he bit back a smile, leaning closer to whisper those words right to your ear.

“oi, malfoy.” barty started, interrupting your somehow intimate moment with regulus. “theoretically, if i paid you, could you do that to me as well? that must’ve looked bloody hot.” crouch grinned, getting a light punch on the shoulder from your boyfriend.

“i would rather not touch you, crouch. i don’t know where the hell have you been.” you laughed, your head resting on regulus’ shoulder as his arm was wrapped around your waist. “don’t worry, baby. if any of them bothers you, i can fight.” you winked at him playfully.

[theemporium]

hi!! i wanted to request an imagine with all the marauders doing stupid shit to try and compete for the new american transfer’s attention, and she’s extremely bold, sarcastic, and unbothered (bc i’m so tired of seeing y/ns who act like they’ve never had a single social interaction before 😭) and they have a like a bet going on to see who can get a yes from her first, oblivious to the fact that she’s dragging it out to watch them embarrass themselves more LMAO thank you so much 🙌🙌

thank you for requesting!🖤

.

“You know they are doing all this to impress you, right?” 

You couldn’t help the way your lips twitched in amusement as you tore your eyes away from the sight in front of and instead turned to look at the redhead settled on the bench next to you. 

“Of course I do,” you answered with a playful scoff. “But who said I can’t have my own fun with it?” 

Lily snorted, a bashful but bold sound. “You’re driving them mad, babe.” 

“But it’s so funny to watch,” you said with a faux pout before you turned back to look at the boys. 

The second you walked through the doors of Hogwarts, the boys were absolutely besotted by you. Maybe it was the pretty smile or the gorgeous face or maybe it was the fact you had all but scoffed at some petty, pureblood wizards who tried introducing themselves to you and snorted when another tried to tell you off for breaking some silly little school rule within the first twenty-four hours since you stepped inside the castle. 

But from that second on, you had held the hearts of the school’s beloved marauders in your hand, for better or for worse. 

“What are they even trying to do this time?” Marlene asked as she approached the two of you, her hands braced on the bench as she tilted her head at the scene in front of her, trying to work out just what she was actually looking at. 

It wasn’t unusual for the boys to go out of their way to gain your attention, you had truly seen it all. From James whooshing past you on his broom after he scored in a quidditch match, calling out your name and honouring the goal to you, to Sirius dancing on the table top in the Great Hall to cheer you up as he serenade you with your favourite song, to Remus all but blurting out random little jokes during class to try and gain your attention. 

It was cute and it warmed your heart. Now, though, you were slightly worried their recent antic would end with the three boys in months’ worth of detention.

“I honestly don’t know,” you murmured honestly, your brows furrowed in confusion as you watched the boys zip about. 

“Are those…muggle fireworks?” Lily murmured with a frown. 

“Muggle fireworks? How different are they to ours?” you asked, briefly glancing at the redhead. 

“Very different,” she snorted, shaking her head. “I didn’t think any of them knew how to set them off. It’s not like ours, it’s not a simple spell.” 

You tilted your head. “Is that why Sirius has his lighter?” 

“Probably, but you still have to—“ 

BOOM!

All eyes turned to look at the massive chunk that was now gone from a row of pillars leading out into the courtyard. And just as quickly as people sought out the chaos, their heads twisted around to find the boys standing there, sheepish and flustered at the lacklustre performance they just put on for you. 

“POTTER! BLACK! LUPIN!” 

You snorted as their eyes widened at McGonagall's voice booming through the whispers and hushed voices, all three of them scrambling to fix their mess. For the infamous marauders, they got quite sloppy when they were around you. 

“Better run, boys!” you called out to them, a massive grin on your face. “Wouldn’t want my favourite boys in detention.” 

“Your favourite boys?” Sirius repeated, a grin growing on his face. 

“You heard what I said, Black,” you retorted, watching as the boy only shook his head in amusement. 

“We won’t get detention, darling,” Remus assured you, a flush to his cheeks that made him look a little younger than usual, a lot more carefree too. 

“Good, we have a date on Saturday,” you called out casually. 

All three boys halted in their steps but it was James who spoke. 

“Which one?” he asked, something like a glimmer of hope in his eyes. 

But your grin only widened. “Who said anything about only one of you?”

.

[moonstruckme]

helloooo, i have a request if its possible♡

since we got figure skater! Sirius..... Do you think we could get hockey player! James x figure skater! reader? Maybe they go to the same place but the place where they practice its kinda shitty so its literally kinda like an across the hallway situation where the hockey practice happens on one ice rink and when you leave you can walk thru the ice rink of the figure skaters that its on another section of the place IDK I'M NOT AN ARCHITECT SORRY

BUT THE POINT ITS, that one day James leaves practice later than usual and he's walking to get out but he heards his favorite song playing and he goes to see whats up because its his favorite song ever! and goes to the other ice rink and sees the reader practicing and inmediatly he has the biggest crush ever and its almost dreaming about a house and three kids with that cute girl

idk i think i explained myself like sht but hope you like the idea! cause i think it would be soo cute

Hi lovely, you explained yourself perfectly! Thanks for being so patient with me, I hope this is alright <3

hockey player!James x figure skater!reader ♡ 718 words

James’ entire body is pleasantly sore, and he’s very much looking forward to going home to a nice, hot shower. 

“Do you and Moony want to go get breakfast tomorrow morning?” he asks Sirius as they leave the locker room. The two of them had taken longer than usual changing out of their gear, Sirius filling him in on the absolute hell week Remus had at his new job. To hear Sirius talk about it, all the other professors are simply jealous of Remus. James is sure that’s partly true, but he’d bet they need less reason than that. Somehow, James had thought leaving school would mean emerging into a more mature world, but adults seem just as petty as teenagers. Maybe pancakes and a good, uplifting chat would do something to take the sting out of Remus’ first week and help prepare him for the next. 

Sirius cuts James a sideways look, gray eyes narrowed. “Breakfast at what time?” 

“I was thinking six, six thirty.” Sirius scoffs, and James grins. “Only joking. How’s eleven?” 

“Still too early,” Sirius grumbles, “but we’ll go.” 

James bobs his head, pleased to have a course of action for helping his friend. “Ask Moons where he feels like going, and just…” He hears a faint, familiar melody. “...just let me know.” 

“Sounds good.” Sirius pushes open the door, but James has stopped. He’s looking back towards the rink, intrigued. “Coming?” 

James waves him off. “In a bit. See you tomorrow.” 

Sirius makes an amused sound, not unused to James’ diversions, and goes. 

James follows the sound of his favorite song, unabashed about bopping his head to the beat as he approaches the rink. He knows figure skaters sometimes use the rink after his hockey practice has wrapped up, and he absolutely has to see who’s choreographed a routine to this. He comes to a stop near the edge of the bleachers, and watches through the tempered glass as one lone skater launches into a turn. 

This wouldn’t be the track James would have thought of for a figure skating routine, but frankly, you’re doing it justice. Your movements are springy and nimble as you glance across the ice, one complicated-looking move to the next to the next. It seems like both skates are never touching the ground for more than half a second. There’s a lot to be said, probably, about your skill, your technique, but James is a philistine. All he can think about is how pretty you look. 

You’re gorgeous. Stunning. Graceful in your movements and seraphim in your countenance. A wisp of hair has freed itself from the confines of the rest and whips about your face, but you don’t seem to notice it, your gaze steady and lips just slightly pursed in concentration. 

James would never tell his friends because they’d mock him to hell and back, but he does believe in love at first sight. Only under particular circumstances, though. The sight has to be good enough—meaning, he has to see some aspect of who that person is behind a pretty face. You certainly do have a pretty face, and you’re dancing to his favorite song, and James doesn’t understand how he could ever be expected to not be totally enamored with you after this one spectacular look. He worries that if you glance over, you’ll see him with giant cartoon hearts boinging out of his eyes on springs. 

The song ends, and you spin to a stop. James’ breathing stops, too, as your gaze lands on a point not ten feet to his right. He wonders if he’s being creepy. It’s not like this is a private rink, and James wouldn’t be weirded out if he spotted someone watching him running drills or something (actually, if it were you he’d be over the moon about it), but he’s been told not everyone feels like he does about that stuff. And though he hardly thinks of himself as intimidating, James is also a big guy. He wants to woo you, not spook you.

You skate to the edge of the rink to restart your music, and James slips out. He hears it blaring softly behind him, and he probably looks like a total idiot when he grins and dances out the front door. An idiot in love.

[wee-chlo]

I'm rereading Harry Potter and it's baffling how people just... pretend Snape was a completely different person than who he actually was?

Granted, Alan Rickman's Snape and Book Snape are two genuinely different people, to the point that I think Movie Snape would be mildly disgusted by Book Snape. Movie Snape came off more as someone who was angry and spiteful to a select few for reasons that ranged from Understandable to Irrationally Petty, but generally very grim and stern, with a good heart beneath it all. Book Snape is a piece of shit.

Movie Snape doesn't have the same cruelty as Book Snape: his targeting of anyone other than Harry is framed in a more slapstick way and his teaching isn't neary as abusive. Neville being terrified of him doesn't have the same implicit showcasing of Snape being abusive but rather Snape being stern and unforgiving while Neville is meek and needs positive reinforcement to flourish.

Movie Snape is stoic, deadpan. I saw a clip of Rickman on YouTube and either he, a commenter, or both noted that a touchstone of Rickman's performance for Snape was that he didn't raise his voice. Not so in the books, where Snape's described several times loosing his temper and screaming, even shrieking. Snape is terrifyingly volatile in the books, in contrast to the movies where even at his most furious, most emotional, he remains in control of himself.

Book Snape is, unambiguously, just a bad person. Not just a bad teacher, a bad PERSON. He is a small, bitter, petty bully who shouldn't be anywhere near children, and honestly Dumbledore letting him near children is probably more of an indictment of Dumbledore's character than the fact that he used to be a wizard supremacist.

And to be clear, while teenage Snape isn't AS bad as adult Snape by virtue of being a teenager... he was also just Not Good. He ran around with Wizard Nazis. Lily called him out on that, on the fact that he was clearly ready and rearing to join Voldemort, that he used Dark Magic on other students alongside his death eater buddies, etc.

James and Co were little shits who teased and picked on students. But Remus and Sirius made a point that Snape and James had a uniquely, mutually hostile relationship. Remus and Sirius state directly that ultimately, one of the primary reasons James targeted Snape was because Snape was "up to his eyeballs in the Dark Arts and James hated the Dark Arts".

I've seen people use the fact that James never apologized to Snape as an indictment of James' character but like... when and why would he have apologized?

Genuinely, I think if Snape had made a good faith effort to be a better person BEFORE the death of the Potters, James may have apologized. But Snape at the time of James' death was a literal wizard nazi and honestly? I can't see him feeling terribly bad about bullying him, or at least not feeling obliged to apologize. And even if he had, how would he have done so? Send an owl to wizard nazi HQ?

But I think the thing that made me bristle the most about the books was the gaslighting that happened in book 6.

Remus is... going through it in that book, fair enough, but when Harry is talking to him about his suspicious, he gently accuses Harry of "inheriting James' and Sirius' prejudice" and being "determined to hate [Snape]". Like.... I'm sorry, but did Remus get hit in the head? Are we supposed to just casually forget EVERYTHING SNAPE HAS SAID AND DONE TO HARRY IN THE LAST FIVE BOOKS?!

If anyone came into it with an inherited prejudice and a determination to hate, it was Snape.

Justice for Book 6 Harry, everyone's treating him like he's bonkers but he's right.

[xreaderbooks]

Unspoken

Pair: Sirius Black x Reader

Word Count: 3.9k

Warnings: mentions cheating (?), jealousy, language

Summary: You and Sirius were friends, the best of friends, lovers? There's a thin line between love and being in love with your best friend, it seems like everyone knew, but the two of you.

Available on Wattpad and AO3

Sirius Black Masterlist - Navigation

“Alright, Y/n?”

James’ familiar accent practically shouted as he slid into the seat next to you, tugging the ends of your loose hair.

“Merlin, James!” You clutched your chest, startled by the sudden interruption. You were enraptured in your History of Magic assignment and the library had been so quiet before. “A little warning next time, maybe.”

“I am the warning,” He smiled slyly, “What’s wrong with you? You’ve been avoiding Pads like the plague.”

“Nothing is wrong with me, it’s only been four days for god’s sake,” You rolled your eyes.

His eyes widened, “I didn’t know it’d been that long or I’d have checked in sooner, Four days is a lifetime for the two of you.”

“You both are so dramatic.”

“Says you who won’t even tell your best friend why you’re not talking to your lover boy.”

You glare at the boy who didn’t know when to keep his mouth shut, “Now, you know damn well you’re not my best friend and for the millionth time me and Sirius are just friends.”

You slam the textbook you were reading closed and packed it in your bag, moving out of your chair and walking away. James followed closely behind.

“I’ll have you know we’ve been friends for longer than the lot of them,” He referred to the rest of the Marauders and the girls. “You should be able to trust me.”

“You asked me for homework twice before I’ve had a conversation with Sirius or the others, that does not mean we’ve been friends for longer, that just means you're a slick prick.”

“I’m gonna pretend your words don’t sting, L/n, but I’m begging you-” He blocked the door to exit the Library. “Tell me why you aren’t speaking to the poor lad.”

You crossed your arms, frustrated, “The moment I tell you, you’re gonna be off tattling to Sirius.”

“I promise I won’t,” He spoke in a serious tone and you looked at him with a stern face. “Cross my heart.”

You had no reason to be ignoring Sirius the way that you had been, not really. After all, you were just friends- friends don’t get mad when friends kiss other people at a party. It was petty of you to have kept it going for this long but you were hurt.

Also, between you and Sirius, you were always a little more than just friends.

Nothing about the two of you was platonic and yet no physical act indicated that you were in a romantic relationship. It was known, it went unsaid, he was yours and you were his.

For years, it was an ongoing dance of lingering stares and near touches. As if the act of an embrace or a simple handshake will combust the carefully constructed invisible wall that you both had built on your friendship. It went unsaid that though you weren’t together- you are. Despite both of you being insistent on the status of your relationship as being just friends.

“He was with someone else at the party,” You confessed.

James scoffed disbelieving, “No he wasn’t.”

Your eyes narrowed, he definitely was- you saw it with your own two eyes, granted you were slightly inebriated but you couldn’t have conjured the image in your mind. If he didn’t trust your word it was fine by you, “Ask Remus if you don’t believe me then.”

“That’s why he hasn’t been in an uproar about this,” He placed his hands on his hips. “Right well, in that case, Pads was very likely drunk.”

“And this is why I didn’t want to talk to you,” You shove past him finally. “You’re always going to defend him, no matter what Sirius can do no wrong.”

“Forgive me if I don’t think Sirius would do such a thing, he’s absolutely mad for you Y/n, you have to know that.”

You paused in the middle of the hall, you bit your lip in thought and shook your head. “He’s not mine, James, it doesn’t matter what he does.”

~~~

When the Gryffindors threw a party celebrating the final win of the Quidditch season, all houses were invited, and you lost him in the crowd. Some part of you knew.

You felt the betrayal deep in your gut, though he would never do anything to hurt you willingly, a part of you felt like it was inevitable. That was the reason you held out for so long. Life was unpredictable and everything could fall apart in a second.

A girl hung around his neck, he looked stunned but smiled droopily barely opening his eyes before leaning into her again.

All the protection you formed around you had crumbled, your heart was shredded with sharp razors and the room was caving in. You shoved through the barricade of people cheering and dancing. You needed air, now.

You clutched your chest as you felt a pain come from your sternum, you couldn’t remember the last time you cried, this would be breaking the uncounted streak. You stumbled, dropping the firewhiskey-filled cup on a table nearby, and ran to a bucket of trash, throwing up the contents of an empty stomach.

Sirius warned you to eat and drink water ahead of time, the last thing you ate was breakfast 12 hours ago, the memory of Sirius made it so much easier for your upset stomach to clear out.

Gentle hands pulled the few strands of hair that fell out of our weak grasp, from your peripheral you saw Remus’ brown sweater sleeve. You heaved into the trash bucket, “Rem.”

“You’re alright, Y/n/n,” He rubbed smooth circles on your back.

“I think I’m gonna die,” Your eyes tear up from the sting in your throat and because of what you just witnessed.

Remus tsked, softly pulling you up from your kneeling position, “Up you go, love.”

You whimpered slightly, you were in a corner hovered over but more than a few people definitely see you spill your guts into the can you held close, this was going to be embarrassing tomorrow. Hopefully, no one was sober enough to remember seeing you this way.

“I’ll take you to my dorm to rest a little before I find Sirius and he can walk you to yours-”

You shook your head in protest, “No, I can’t. Get Lily.” Sirius could potentially bring his conquest up to the room and you didn’t want to see more than you already have.

He tilted his head in confusion, you weren’t up to explaining it to him right now so you insisted you both find Lily together.

“Weren’t you together?” He asked, his hand was on the small of your back, guiding you around like a lost child looking for their mother.

“He went to get me a drink, I was with Marlene, next thing I knew I was throwing up.”

“So why can’t we just find Sirius?”

“Later, Remus, I can barely fucking stand right now.” You held onto his shoulder as he walked you a couple of steps up the stairs to the boy's dorm so you both can get a better view of where Lily was.

You caught sight of her fiery red hair, giggling at whatever James spoke into her ear.

“Wait, here-” Remus steadied you on the wall as he went to pull Lily away from his flirty friend.

What was worse was that you saw Sirius searching the crowd, presumably for you, thankfully you were hidden from view. He found James who had pouted the moment Lily walked away with Remus, he stressfully ran a hand through his hair.

Your vision was blurry, the room felt like it was spinning and you weren’t sure if leaning against the wall was helping your nausea.

Lily and Remus had managed to get you to your dorm as efficiently as they could that night. The next morning you spent the day in your dorm, Saturday was spent avoiding Sirius, Sunday you went to Hogsmeade and Monday was the only day where you had no classes with him but during meal times you had barely said a handful of words to him.

~~~

Transfiguration class was busy and stressful with what Professor McGonagall had assigned. A full description of what was learned in class today, caused by the disruption of the lovely boys you called friends. James and Sirius wouldn’t stop interrupting class with their jokes which made everyone laugh but eventually, Mcgonagoll got fed up giving them warnings.

When she was over with her lecture, she told the class to have the essay ready by the end of class, there were only 30 mintues left. 

You felt a poke on your side, you ignored it and continued with your paper. Another sharp poke stabbed harshly into your ribs, you slammed the quill onto your desk and turned to face your assailant.

The silver eyed Gryffindor was smirking into his hand that held his chin while he held onto the tip of the wand, handle side pointed at you.

“What?” You whisper shouted at him.

“Was hoping you could help me with my work?” He whispered softly to you with a charming smile that normally made you melt eased onto his features. You held strong, “No.”

His brows furrowed and a faux frown replaced it, “But darling-”

“No, Sirius.” You scribbled angrily on your paper. You were almost done with the essay, you just need a couple more sentences for it to be acceptable for Mcgonagoll. “You got yourself and everybody else into this mess, you get yourself out of it.”

He groaned a little too loudly earning him a look from the Professor, he sat up straighter and leaned closer to you, you both shared a desk and he already sat so close that your elbows would accidentally brush when writing notes or shifting in your seat. You could feel his heartbeat as his chest was touching your arm, his head was tilted to see your face but it was hidden by your hair.

You pretended you couldn’t feel him or the heat that was rising in your cheeks, with a finger he lifted the curtain of hair blocking your face and tucked it behind your ear.

“Please?”

You shot out of your seat making the chair scrape against the floor as you got out of it. You walked up to Mcgonagoll’s desk, handing her the paper and asking her if you could be excused.

~~~

When each of the rest of your classes ended that day Sirius was waiting for you at the door, he took the books out of your arms and walked you to the next one before going to his. During meal times he had his arm around your shoulder like it was something natural for him. It wasn’t even the casual loose arm around the shoulder, it was him pulling you so close that your head was forced to lean against his neck.

Not that you hated it, in fact, your traitorous heart lept in joy at every inch of attention he was giving you. Every now and again, your brain would pop in and remind you of the incident at the party that was the only thing you seemed to remember and your body would tense. The moment he felt you tense up he let you go, which ruined those perfect moments.

Each day something more was added. It made your body tingle in excitement at how it remembered Sirius’ burning touch. His arm, his leg, his fingers- his lips. Nowhere near your lips and it made you yearn for the feel of them.

At breakfast, he kissed your temple in greeting.

In class, if you had one together (he would always sit with you) his arm would be around your chair, and not only would he play with your hair but when he would stop, he pulled you into his side, tracing his fingers along your arm.

In the common room, if you were sitting next to each other on the couch, he pulled your legs onto his lap and traced the same patterns that he would in class.

After the Quidditch game this weekend against Ravenclaw, Gryffindor won and Sirius pulled you in a sweaty hug, twirling you in his arms. Once he set you down, the way he grabbed your cheeks and pulled you in you thought he was going to kiss you- instead, he kissed both of your cheeks.

The party that weekend wasn’t as big, most everyone from the last one still recovering but Sirius stayed by your side the whole night. It was half the crowd from last time but Sirius made it his sole mission to scare off any guys who weren’t in your inner circle.

You had to admit that this party made you think of the last one and it wouldn’t budge from your thoughts until you had enough liquor in you that you didn’t care.

Sirius held you close by your waist as you danced to Killer Queen by Queen, your back was against his chest, and in your tipsy state your head laid back against his heart as you swayed in an upbeat motion to the tune of the song. You and Sirius were singing along to the lyrics annoyingly to your friends.

By the end of the night, you didn’t know how much you could take of this before you exploded. You went back and forth between loving the attention and running from it, you weren't sure who was playing with your feelings more, him or you. 

~~~

This went on for a week, by the evening of the next Monday, you needed to put a stop to this before your feelings overwhelm you. During this time, you've debated on what caused the sudden change in affection and the only logical reason you could think of was James. 

“James Fleamont Potter!” You marched into the Gryffindor common room, straight to where Lily was surrounded by books on a desk, the boy you were looking for in a seat right beside her- no doubt attempting to woo the poor girl who was just trying to study. She pretended to be bothered by him, you knew the truth but none of that mattered at the moment.

Apparently, he didn’t hear so went around the desk and dragged him up from his seat by his collar and cornered him on the wall behind the desk.

“You told him, you told Sirius and now he’s acting different!” Your forearm was on his throat, he glanced down at his wand. “Try it and I’ll jinx you so hard you won’t be able to turn into a stag for a long, long while.”

He gulped as he looked down onto your furious face, “I would never!”

“What the bloody hell is going on here?” Remus held a bewildered expression once he came down the steps of the boy's dorms. You glared at James, releasing your hold on him and taking a couple of steps back.

You pointed at the boy who was rubbing his neck, “He told Sirius about the party!”

“I did not, I swore I wouldn’t-”

“Liar!”

You and James bickered for several seconds, both of you not hearing the other until Lily slammed her textbook loudly.

“Enough,” She shouted, “Both of you are behaving like children!”

“She started it,” James muttered. You huffed, “I hate you.”

“You know what? Maybe he’s acting different because you can’t even look him in the eye when you speak to ‘im and trying to get you to pay attention to him, you loon.” James blurted out and finished off his statement with his arms crossed.

Remus took a step in your direction and asked you in a careful tone, “Y/n, would it really be so bad if Sirius knew?”

“If I knew what?”

The subject of discussion just walked through the portrait, your heart stopped at the thought of him possibly hearing your entire conversation. Nobody said anything but you felt everyone’s eyes on you, you only held onto Remus' stare and walked up to the girl's dormitories, not wanting to deal with this mess.

The way he was acting differently was the way he was being more physical with you. The tuck behind your ear, the wrapping of his arm around your shoulders, the caressing of your face for you to look him in the eye. Something you’ve avoided since the incident.

Physical touch was something that you and Sirius didn’t do. To touch each other for something other than comfort in a time of need, was an admission of something that was unspoken. Those careful touches were full of care, admiration, and love. As if you could ever touch each other with meaning less than that.

It was so simple that it was never done unless one of you was hurting, or if it was necessary for a task.

The accidental brush of fingers was the one that sent a spark up your spine. His pinky would twitch against yours, or yours against his and you both knew but that was the most that either of you would allow.

There were times were he would have his arm around your chair, and he would play with the ends of your hair, never actually touching you.

The only time that was an exception was when Sirius did something wrong, in which case he would do what he was doing now and was more physically affectionate. He was a puppy rubbing his head against its owners leg to gain favor for chewing on their owners' shoes. The analogy felt fitting, and that’s what you told Lily when she came to the dorm after you, asking what was wrong.

She laughed heartily, “Well, he’s not called Padfoot for nothing.”

You laid back against the headboard of your bed, “With all these signs, he knows.”

“Those aren’t bad signs, Y/n, it’s quite the opposite actually.” She advocated for Sirius’ behavior, “That’s the equivalent of a man sending flowers to his girlfriend.”

“But I am not his girlfriend”

She sighed, “I’m sure you two have heard this a lot, but you might as well be. This affliction with touch as a way to avoid your feelings doesn’t change that.”

She was right, you knew it- Sirius knew it, there was just something that prevented you and Sirius from taking that step. You felt like it was his fear of commitment and for yourself… as much as you would’ve loved to hear how Sirius feels out loud, what you had with him as friends was safer than ending up with a broken heart.

~~~

Tuesday after classes, the Marauders wanted to go out, but out they meant the Black Lake. Lily suggested a picnic and whatever Lily wanted, James provided.

Remus and Peter set up a large blanket, Marlene, Dorcas, and Mary held hands swinging them along while Mary held the basket. Lily and James walked behind them as you and Sirius trailed after.

Sirius halted you by intertwining his hand with yours, you looked up at him in question.

“Can we talk?”

You look over your shoulder at your friends- none of whom were paying any attention in your direction- traitors.

“Sure,” You give him a small smile.

Sirius’ silver eyes intimidated you, his beauty in his tall stature, his style, and his bone structure was pure elegance but his eyes are what you loved the most. They sliced through every rational thought you had and turned your legs into jelly, they held yours so gently it made you want to jump at his every request.

“I know why you’ve been so off with me lately,” He started and leaned his back against the tree with his hands in his front pockets.

Your eyes narrowed, and your eyebrow quirked for him to continue, “Go on.”

“It’s cute actually,” He was playing with you.

“Aren’t you going to tell me why you think I’ve been off?”

He tsked, “Now, where would the fun be in that? I wanna hear you admit it.”

You weren’t going to, “You’re the one who wanted to talk, you admit it.”

He pushed himself off the tree and stepped directly in front of you so that he towered over you, you had to bend your neck upwards to meet his gaze. He held your face in his hands so lightly, it was as if he expected you to break in his grasp.

“I admit to knowing that you saw me kissing that girl at the party, I saw you looking” You turned your head from him- pissed that he knew you were looking while kissing that girl but he snapped your head back to face him. “I was drunk, and she pulled me to kiss her, honestly I think she was wearing your perfume or something ‘cause I thought she was you. It’s not excusable I know but it’s the only one I’ve got, you’ve gotta believe me, dove.”

You didn’t know what to believe, whether you wanted to or not.

He searched your eyes for a reaction but you kept your face calm, the only sign of anything was your eyes flickering between both of his.

“I love you,” Your eyes widened. “I love you more than I’ve ever shown you, Y/n, and that’s all my fault because I should have told you. I can’t even begin to explain how fucking in love with you, I am.”

“Sirius-”

“Y/n.” He slightly shook you in his hands, “I need you to understand, Please. I wanted you to tell me that you loved me too, that it wasn’t just in my head. That you were jealous when you saw her when I should’ve gone after you, I wanted you to tell me that night or this week that you want me just as much as I want you. I was wrong, it was wrong of me,” He sounded breathless.

You couldn’t help it, your eyes flickered to his lips, you didn’t care anymore. His confession unlocked something in you that you just wanted to feel his lips finally, adoration filled your chest and any doubts about confessing were gone. He leaned down so that his forehead pressed against yours and your noses brushed, it was teasing.

He didn’t stop you when you nudged your nose against his and finally kissed him. It was a long, passionate, desperate kiss that left you desperate. Sirius turned his head and brought you so incredibly close, the kiss deepened and a heat rose from your body.

You smiled in the kiss and how long it’s been, you pulled away, your eyes filled with a new light, and you pecked his lips, “I love you more.”

“Impossible,” He kissed you some more before you joined your friends who didn’t bother to hide their cheeky smiles.

“How much did you guys hear?” You asked as you sat and leaned against Sirius on the blanket.

James’ smile widened with mischievousness, “Everything.”

The rest of them nodded and continued their conversations, as mid-afternoon turned to night, you and Sirius were the only ones left behind with the food as the others went out onto the dock, play fighting you saw James get tossed into the water by Remus.

“I know we weren’t into labels before, but I’d like to make it known that you’re my mine now,” Sirius whispered in your ear.

His words sent shivers down your spine, “Oh is that so?”

“You were as good as mine, Y/n,” Sirius confessed. “I was the idiot that didn’t make it clear enough to let you know how much I want you as my girlfriend.”

“And this is you asking,” You said it more as a statement.

“Unless you don’t want to be which is hardly believable with the way you kissed me earlier- honestly, Y/n- you’re quite the kisser, I always knew you would be but Merlin,” He spoke with an exaggeration to compete with James’ dramatics.

You lifted your body from him, sat on your knees, and straddled his legs, crawling up to meet him, “I would love to be your girlfriend.”

He chuckled, grabbing onto your hips “My little temptress,” He stroked his thumb against your cheek lovingly, kissing you softly. 

[blackberryghost]

Heated 🛋️

Married wolfstar au. Words: 600 @wolfstarmicrofic

-

Remus kneeled between Sirius's legs.

Usually this initiated more enjoyable activities, but Sirius was in a poor, combative mood and sitting on the edge of their bed with his arms tightly crossed over his chest.

Remus sat back on his legs and patiently stared up at Sirius with big round eyes and a pout. He was trying to look as pathetic as possible to get his husband to spare even a glance at him.

It wasn't likely to happen.

Remus had been an utter, absolute, pathetic prick.

"So... it got a bit heated earlier," Remus began and placed his hands on both of Sirius's knees, trying to meet his husband's glare, but Sirius pointedly looked to the side, at the end of the bed. "I'm very sorry I said—"

"That I was spoiled rotten?" Sirius grumbled.

"I didn't mean to say that," Remus said, shaking his head.

"You've hated that I've 'had it easy' since we were eleven.” Sirius finally looked down his nose at Remus. "Well, I could say the same about you. Tell me, please count the number of times my mother has kissed and hugged me goodbye at the train platform before school."

Remus didn't have to try to look pathetic anymore.

"Tell me how many letters my mother sent me that had nothing to do with what she needed from me as an heir, just to see how I was doing."

Remus looked away.

"And you seem to forget this bit—when I was fifteen, and penniless, and worse, had no mother who wanted anything to do with me while Hope adores you."

Remus dragged his eyes back up to his husband's.

"I would have rather lived in the Shrieking Shack surviving on cold soup if it meant having a mother who knitted me gloves. Or a father who acknowledged my existence," Sirius said, voice raised.

Remus lifted himself up, sliding his hands up along Sirius's thighs, and leaned forward to press his forehead against Sirius's.

And surprising Remus to no end, Sirius pushed his head forward, too, nose bumping Remus's as if Remus was already forgiven.

"I'm sorry." Remus pressed forward, nuzzling their noses like a couple of puppies. "I'm sorry," Remus whispered again. "You're not spoiled, or privileged, or anything else I said to try and make you feel inferior." Remus brushed his lips over Sirius's and said, "I was angry. I get cranky, and I throw tantrums, and I pick the worst words to say because I know they’ll hurt the most. But I don't believe in them. I really don't."

Sirius stopped breathing, simply existing with their faces pressed close, allowing his cheeks to be held in Remus's hands.

Sirius sighed and rolled his eyes. He reached up for Remus's hands and pulled them down, gripping them tight.

Sirius glared, mumbling, "All this drama because I said I didn't want the blue couch."

"It matches with everything in the new house!" Remus whined. "The red one makes me feel like we're fourteen back in the Gryffindor common room." Remus gazed lovingly at his husband, with so much relief. "I love you, and you'll get your red couch if that's what you want." Remus smirked. "My own personal hurricane, I swear."

Sirius rolled his eyes again and replied dryly, "And my petty as fuck newly wed husband who sucker-punches with side-comments."

Remus pulled Sirius up. "Come on, love. Let's go squabble about the cabinets next."

For their first bicker as a married couple, it truly wasn't that bad.

And they ended up with a yellow couch that made them equally miserable.

<3

[delicrieux]

𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 & 𝐧𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐥𝐞 | endless oneshots (winter edition)

pairing—regulus black x reader genre—angstyyy summary—a moment shared in the living room word count—3.4k

masterlist. ☕. reqs are open!

the wall distracts you. the great family tree of the noble house of black. on their velvet sofa you find yourself quite small faced with the vastness of the room – in front, the magnificent tapestry of a lineage woven into time and into objects, like a permanent impact; in back, the frost covered windows, and further still, the late afternoon glow of the sun burning the whole of london. you imagine, briefly, yourself painted in. your small portrait and your name. you long for it in moments; you know no other wish. the shape of you has been made for this only.

how tedious. how meticulously exact the needlework must be to look appealing. how with your wand you can only return the inner lapel of regulus’ coat to its pristine condition and begin again. each time, the frustration threatens to spill through bitten lips. an uncaring loop thrusts through skin and hits bone. you give up, almost, with the silver thread coiled around your fingers like a hair. r. a. b. shouldn’t be too hard, should it? three letters only, sown by hand, a small, meaningless claim to a coat he already owns. as if he can’t recognize his things, how silly. by the seventh poke you wonder if this odyssey has any significance to it. why grapple to capture a tempest in a teapot? you could easily weave it into existence with magic.

it would still be a kind gesture, a thoughtful one. an affectionate one, even, if regulus cared to look – see the tired hands, the waxen expression, the lapel grasped so tightly. the look you’d give for a second because you couldn’t bear to be more honest than that. i did it for you, please wear it and think of me.

but no, it must be done by hand, else the magic won’t work. something about labor, the repetitive loop and pull that sows in more than letters. fixes more than thread. such a potent protection, only from what you can’t say. in a blood-warm waters of a dream, you puzzled over a crystalline cave in search of something precious, only you couldn’t recall what. in april of next year, regulus will die there, and you’ll never know. but he’ll wear the coat with his initials woven by your hand, and that will be enough.

you don’t look up when he enters, but you recognize the footsteps. regulus is never direct, at least, not with you. he’ll circle the tapestry and then circle the windows and circle the coffee table and then he’ll have nothing left to admire so he’ll admire you. sit beside, throw a glance at your pious work and draw, with his eyes, the shape of your profile. think, perhaps, of a branch of the family tree from his portrait to something that doesn’t yet exist, or the rose-bush pattern of the couch and how one branch connects his shoulder with yours.

“what are you doing?”

“making sure you don’t lose your things,” what a non-response, as if he’s known to misplace objects or articles of clothing. regulus can be careless, but never to warrant worry over useless matters such as this. he has many coats, and can purchase just as many if not more, and if petty, he can pilfer from sirius and row because the silence had grown too loud, “don’t make fun of me, it has to be hand-stitched or the enchantments will fade."

"i was never going to," he says, a faint twitch of amusement about the mouth. regulus always likes that you take his jokes seriously or his comments too light. that, from anyone else, you'd hardly even register. it makes him special, perhaps. as though only he is worth the recognition, or you desire him to have it, "...is this my birthday gift?"

"birthday, don't make me laugh," you mumble, biting the inside of your cheek, "would hardly be appropriate. it's a christmas gift."

"christmas." is the offhanded response. a statement, an assessment, but without judgement. only regulus can wield that so cooly. can live in between worlds that should not overlap. androgyne in tone and disposition, and the sound of it, your name, sweet as any chocolate. you glance up and smile wryly, "oh."

"oh indeed," you utter, and the final, hesitant thread is plunged to the fabric. his initials gleam as freshly cut silver. you offer him the needlework, "there." pride fits in your mouth like a candy well liked, sweetens the tone into something likely mocking, "not bad, is it, regulus? or perhaps you think hand-stitching is out of fashion and outdated, a lost art of our aristocratic roots."

regulus doesn't respond. his touch is a cautious one. fingers slide gently across the intricate curve of his initials and trail it upward to the collar and you pretend not to notice. regulus must always inspect things like an artist inspects his pieces. with a certain amount of scorn and longing.

"if it's for christmas," regulus says quietly, still running his fingers along the letters, "do i need to return a gift to you?"

you stop yourself short of giving the response that is right at the tip of your tongue. the verbiage is odd. instead, "return?"

"yes. to match, or rather, one that compliments. does such a custom matter much?"

"ah, well," it does, of course it does. such gifts are not for two sides. they're something sacred for one side only. he's not nimble with his fingers nor patient enough to wield a needle. he'd quit before the first draw of blood on cloth from his useless hands. he could magic it, but that would feel like a lie. what is this offer, or is it a suggestion? an implication? more daring than the look he gives you, certainly. no, he couldn't possibly imply something so domestic. regulus is not the type. so it can only be you reading too much. a stanza where there should be none, "you'd ruin my coat."

"naturally," regulus doesn't smile, not even to go along with his deadpanned tone, as though he could think of no better possibility, but you know better, or at least you tell yourself this. you do; how his head tips slightly towards you, the steady gaze, and the quirk of his brow, it's a rare breed of expression he dons only to you, when he can't bring himself to a more chaste form. you could spend hours sorting every fraction of difference, so keen they are to the point that you swear they must exist. you wouldn't be surprised if someone else says they see nothing,"... a handmade gift for a handmade gift. just for you."

"for me," is all you can muster in response, perhaps hoping you'd hear it clearer, and less vague and silly, in your mouth than his. he has given you presents. lovely, but impersonal. his brother shows more interest even if he has none for you. sirius hears but regulus listens and then willfully picks things everyone would like to receive. the ideal gifts, never with heart or consideration, yet you wear them proudly to hide your bitterness, because such attention is not unwanted, and neither is this. regulus is not incapable of more but his more is reduced to a subtle nothing, like a glance at the tapestry and a thought.

"...the needle's sharp." is the offhand observation, "you're bleeding."

regulus's concern is odd and undefined; you're not the most affectionate of friends. the fondness shared, the gentle jibes, are for you, really, because how else can you convince yourself you're happy. or to soothe the aching of that pesky hope, the wish and want of the moon reflected upon water. your gaze is steady. your hand is steady, "see how much i care?" and you hold up your middle finger with a smile, "i bleed for you."

he does look at it. his lips quirk into a ghost of a smile. "do you." he says, and returns to you, the trace of a frown on his face as though he's grown distressed with such a gesture, and like an adult will scold their pet for bad behavior, says, "really, that's quite silly. no, worse. don't do such unnecessary things to your pretty hands."

pretty, he says, and how easy would it be to mock him or put him in his place with a joke and a teasing word or two. is he making fun of you again? it's only an insult when delivered to the point. and it would feel worse when he isn't, when he's just offering a compliment in a strange sort of way.

"doesn't hurt that much." you say with a confidence unshaken, and the wounds are so meager they're not even worth healing. they'll dry and close before he can lift his wand for episkey or conjure a bandage. but they'll remain, for a day or two, as proof of your diligence. the methodical elegance that comes from creating a handmade gift. you'll look at your hands and know they have worked to protect him.

it hurts a bit more when he reaches for them. if you really did want to press, he'd insist or, with a haughty glare, defy you and prove the strength of his own silly pride, but he only asks, and then, does so with such tenderness you would think he held glass and not your injured hands, the result of a restless task meant for his comfort. your fingers stings the slightest against the brush of his fingertips, calloused and slightly cold, "...you've always been a fool."

"only when it matters," you say softly.

when he says your name, he lingers on the last syllable, with the tilt of his head and the curious narrow of his eyes. to pick apart and discern. to wonder. only briefly, like all his attentions, does the hand linger. the expression you want is not one he'd be willing to show so clearly, not even in the warmth of the dying light.

"stop saying ridiculous things." regulus says after a pause. he won't, however, release your hands. they remain there in his grip, unmoving and together.

"learn to take a joke," you answer.

he leans forward. "make it funny and perhaps i will."

"funny," you can't say a thing to that, yet you've thought up many. later, when he is asleep and his pale face is illuminated by the moonlit night, you'll recite all the things you could not.

"got nothing else to say?" a quirk of the lip. joined hands, fingers intertwined, though not so securely. loose enough that if the mood strikes or a strange sentiment overcomes him, he'd break them apart and away.

"oh, plenty," you can't keep your face straight, and so your smile is quick to return, "i’ve only taken pity on you. did you miss the sound of my voice already?"

"very presumptuous, aren't we," he glances aside, "and really, so outlandish. the nerve. you have the nerve."

"i suppose i do." you squeeze his hand lightly, "nerve. candor. the quality that earns a great admirer."

"or the ire of all who know you best," he tilts his head to the side, glances quickly at you, and with a surprising amount of assertiveness, curls his fingers tighter around yours, "i appreciate that you'd like to share your charisma but some people don't consider charm to be a particularly laudable virtue."

"that's such a bad lie that i might as well be told you don't think i'm charming at all, not in the slightest. and oh, there we are, what a pout. you're entirely predictable."

"and you entertain me, still."

"you're the one that holds my hands hostage," you note wryly, wiggling your fingers slightly.

regulus doesn't have a quick response for that. at most he offers the roll of his eyes. doesn't let go, simply presses. let's a drop of your blood stain his skin. when he speaks again, he's grown thoughtful, "...hostage, yes?"

"...oh, do stop that," a pause. the silence lingers, "no, that's quite unfair."

"do you think so or not?"

your pulse throbs loud enough to deafen you. it is a foolish question and the answer is a clear enough indication of what you think. what motive could he have? to delight at the humiliation of your confession or to watch you tangled in a lie you clearly don't believe? the truth is so obvious it's untactful to inquire about its validity.

he sounds so serious as his thumb brushes along the dips and hills of your knuckles, "well? your answer? or is a minute not enough to think of something witty?"

at this, you frown, "regulus." and it comes quiet, like a warning.

"thought it came naturally to you. such creativity."

he has grown to be cruel sometimes. most times, rather, when it suits him to be. a petty, petulant thing not yet ready to leave its comfortable shell and grow beyond, "you must be eager for me to release you," he adds. a bitter afterthought.

"are you done?" you ask.

"what shall you do with your hands once they’re free?" he wonders, "sow something for sirius? he’d be wrecked if he didn’t receive a gift like mine."

"regulus." you repeat with a frown, "don't."

"why not?" he blinks.

"a gift doesn't mean anything if it's a gift for the masses."

"well, it'll be custom, i imagine," he says, "with his initials this time."

"regulus," a third time you've said it, a sharp tongue to cut, "stop it. you're being mean."

his eyes are cast downward, expression impassive. "if this is what it takes to get you to respond, then perhaps i am."

this isn't the game. the one where he'll pretend not to care so as to observe how you'll react. it is the type where you'll act cold enough he'll hesitate. then he'll carelessly expose himself so the hurt can be delivered with ease. an offense so great you'll seek the sweet relief of exile.

"i made it for you," you utter, barely a whisper, "no one else."

"is that so."

"if you don't want it, i won't force you to keep it."

"no, i like it," his expression has remained the same, if not with a certain lack of conviction, a flat tone you want to interpret as some half lie, but you don't. instead you nod. a half-hearted turn of your head before meeting his eyes.

"a bit possessive, don't you think? getting so cross over a made up problem?" you inquire.

"made up, huh?" you like the inflections of his voice, and even in his reluctance he maintains them, the gentle flow, the steadfast determination to the subject.

"mhm."

"thought it was logical to assume. you're friends."

"i have a different gift planned for him."

"different?" he clarifies.

"quite," you say, all sorts of bitter, "a broom cleaning kit."

that, at least, seems to somewhat appease him. and regulus settles, ever so slightly, his brow a faint twitch. the motion you always want to trace with your fingers, and map along until you memorize every curve and line and plane of his face.

he adjusts your hands again, idly thumbing over the slope and curve. he is thoughtful again, contemplative and somber and nothing more. a lingering fear clings to the curve of his mouth, "do you ever wish you could disappear?"

the question has no context, and it strikes you as the type that never did, with a subtle heaviness he is familiar with the implications of. it is only in a selfish way that the fear occurs. his isolation, perhaps. or he must assume that all others can share a similar loneliness, though only in different quantities.

"do you?" you ask instead.

"perhaps. sometimes. maybe not." he does, you think, look as though he often considers running away to somewhere no one else is aware of him. or if he's not wanted there, then elsewhere. somewhere remote and a touch fantastical. a desperate escape from family tradition, from being the second born son. a desire, or rather, absconding from responsibility. to be far and forgotten; to live a life you believe would bring you some semblance of peace and happiness, though not enough for the longing to subside and never enough for him to admit to it. no, regulus would first die than admit it out loud.

admit the envy he has for his brother. admit to wonder if anyone would look for him if he was to disappear.

you would. even if the rest wouldn't, you would. and if they did, how angry it'd make them if you refused to quit searching. it strikes you suddenly and without remorse, as if you've been pushed into a pile of snow. it's him you were searching for in your dream.

"no, then?" his voice shakes you away. your expression had frozen over, had it? how rare it is, to see worry worn so openly in the shape of those brows.

"sometimes," you answer honestly, though you're never quite sure where that might be. a growing, restless worry expands in the pit of your stomach. as though your nightmare is not so far from becoming reality. that one day, you'll search for him to the edge of the earth only to never find him again, "you aren't thinking of leaving, are you?"

he's taken aback by your expression. "of course not," he reassures, and he seems as though he means it, "i'm only indulging hypotheticals."

"alright."

"are you okay?"

"sure. yes. yes, absolutely."

regulus peers at you closely, scrutinizing, the gesture intense and pointed in its nature. and he returns to tracing the veins on your skin, a practiced art. a light tickle that has you shivering, not that you'd want to move away. never from him.

you hear him, soft and hushed. perhaps it is more suited to the intimacy of the moment and not that he's become ashamed. a faint, lovely mumbling that you would like to indulge forever if possible, "i'm really not going anywhere." he brings your hand to his lips after a moment of hesitation, like he needs the courage, the comfort. an earnest reassurance in a form of a small kiss as if it were his own insecurities at play, "here's okay. here's more than enough."

you nod. whisper, when you realize how close the two of you have become, "yes, stay here."

"...you as well."

"i will."

"wouldn't want to run around looking for someone who's meant to stay within my sights, anyways."

and it is you that laughs a little too hard to seem genuine, "as though you'd do such a thing."

he answers with a confidence unshaken yet poorly disguised by the restraint shown, "i don't plan on ever losing sight of you."

your eyes meet and hold, but neither will ever confess to be the one who glanced away first. for different reasons, perhaps, and no less of a humiliation. no less difficult to accept. the sight of him is too difficult to bear; the hair framing his face and the gentle hue of pink that grows steadily redder the longer he holds your gaze. he drops your hand first, and you resist the urge to run your fingertips down the sharp of his jaw and feel the softness of his skin or tug his bottom lip and hear the shuddering intake of air. to feel what can't be expressed, at least, not so simply.

you can't blame regulus for not wanting to admit it. he's shaped by his surroundings, has grown up in a family that doesn't permit affections. he doesn't know the structure of i'm sorry or thank you or i love you. but if only for a second, surely, he can try to imitate. you treasure each of his clumsy syllables and failed tries because he has never attempted anything of this sort for anyone else. the success doesn't matter, because he is earnest, at least to the degree of his own understanding and limit, and it's easier to say what's painful in silence.

or, maybe, nothing's difficult when the sun's nearly gone. when the window pane burns pink and white, and when the stars appear through the haze of fog and snow, and you think of the future, with him, but as the heirs of two prominent houses together, and it feels like a fairy tale that way, not quite real. so long as you imagine it with a dreamy detachment, you can convince yourself it doesn't matter further than a wish that will never come true.

because you've never learned to say i'm sorry or thank you or i love you, either.

thank u for reading <3

[lifeandlies-of-regulusblack]

Please….Please save me from the regulus discourse I keep seeing…i saw 7 posts about it in succession…he doesn’t deserve this…I need…regulus headcanons…

JUICY HEADCANONS HERE WE GO.

tagging @rizzulusarcturizz @villain-crown @ilovefanfics @arcturusblackregulus and @queerregulusablack because i love them.

regulus smokes his first cigarette in his brother's room, taken from a pack sirius left behind. he keeps the pack even after he's smoked all of what's inside, because that's where he puts all his little notes for sirius.

—

sirius likes to tell regulus that he loved regulus before he was ever born, and little regulus would always laugh at that. he tells his big brother to stop being silly, and sirius plays at being offended. "i'm not being silly! it's true! i was waiting for you all along!"

—

pre-hogwarts regulus and sirius once fought over regulus fussing over kreacher. sirius was looking for regulus only to find him trying to convince kreacher to let him wrap his injured finger with his handkerchief.

Sirius calls regulus out in annoyance because he didn't want his brother touching the elf, he was uneasy around them and he didn't think it was regulus' role to care for beings meant to serve them (as they've heard their entire lives). but regulus wouldn't budge. he grips on to Kreacher's hand tighter while glaring at sirius. the shock at regulus' ire turns into petty rage and jealousy, as the poor elf keeps telling regulus that it was okay, mumbling out a dozen other protests about how master regulus didn't need to lower himself and— and— this makes sirius angrier. so much so that he ends up yelling at kreacher to shut up. which in turn makes regulus scream at sirius to go away.

and so sirius does, angrily, hurt, and feeling slightly betrayed. so unused to regulus... fighting him. "Stupid little brothers," he says to himself. "See if I ever play with him again!"

Sirius was still by himself, thinking of turning regulus away when his brother inevitably came to his room later at night, to sleep in his bed, when he hears his brother's wailing cries. this puts a primal fear into his being that far overshadows whatever childish anger he was clinging to. he runs down the stairs to see what's happened. and there, he sees his brother, clutching at his cheek and cowering from the tall figure of his mother looming over him, wand drawn.

regulus was caught with kreacher.

for once in his (relatively young) life, sirius is frozen. he doesn't know what to do. this isn't a broken vase he can say he broke. this wasn't something he could say regulus did for him. the act of nursing an injured elf was so clearly an action belonging to regulus. only regulus would do this.

he looks at their mother and sees the disgust and disappointment lining her features. regulus was her perfect boy.

and her perfect boy had wrapped his handkerchief, with the black family coat of arms embroidered right at the center, and used it to bandage an elf's bleeding finger. his mother is incandescent.

sirius is too slow, too short, to reach his brother as walburga reaches to shake his brother with a frightening vigor that has regulus crying out in alarm.

"Don't you ever do that again, you hear me?" his mother shouts over regulus' panicked cries. At sirius' shout of alarm, she lets regulus go with a harsh shove and makes her way to him.

"You should've taught him better! What use are you to the family if you can't look after your brother?" she yells at him. she prods at his chest, making sure her nails dig in painfully, "This is your fault, you foolish child." Sirius can't even muster the rage he so usually feels at his mother, yet again, finding ways to blame him. At least she's let regulus go.

When, after their mother has left, sirius gathers his little brother into his arms and shushes him, rubbing his back best as he can. they're both reeling. regulus at being punished for what he thought was right, unused to being the recipient of their mother's anger. and sirius for not being able to do anything, to help him — replaying the way his limbs froze, his mind unable to think of something quick to say or do.

he wants to punish kreacher for his brother's tears.

—

regulus is top of his class in potions. really, it's him and severus that become the talk of the school. prodigies. Slughorn's two favorite students and the topic of most his open bragging. a lot of students remark on them being fortunately in separate years, avoiding the cutthroat competition that would've been for the top spot. they don't necessarily like each other, but the respect is there.

regulus expected to receive the brunt of severus' anger regarding his brother. he tells him this as they end up in the same library aisle, discussing which potions book had better methodology. and the older scoffs.

"It's sad how you keep wanting to be like your brother."

and the statement stings. he idolizes his brother.

"Get over yourself, Black. It's a compliment. You're not your brother and you've already made a name for yourself."

oh...

"Never talk to me about this again. I don't hate you but we're not friends."

After finishing 6th year, Severus gives him his potions book.

"Here, see if you can do better than me. Use it and let me know how it turns out." he stops before he walks away, "Or not. I'll probably hear about it from the professors."

—

something something regulus asking to apprentice under madame pomfrey. regulus slowly gains her trust and respect. eventually, she lets him help with remus, after he comes to her telling her how he knows, and how remus knows that he knows.

"I mean... Moony? Really?" he asks incredulously. He shoves his wand harshly under Remus' throat, "Do you think I'm stupid?"

—

Regulus tells Sirius to leave. He'll follow but not in the near future.

"Come on, Sirius. I'll survive without you. But you won't with me." "That's not true! Together or not at all, remember? We promised. I promised." "What, you think I'm not brave enough? Too soft to ever completely leave the family behind? That I'll lose myself to them?" "No, I think you've always been brave. Too brave. You don't have to be brave for them and not this way. Can't you see Reggie? This way's fucked up. We can just leave!" "It's... It's not that bad Sirius. Or at least it never was for me. I can be strong for the both of us and I want to — just promise you won't go where I can't follow." "As if. What do you want me to tell moony, you little shit?" "That I love him." "This hurts you know? This entire conversation has been one big pain in the ass, and it's going to be for a long while. Man, fuck you. Honestly. I can't blame you, but this hurts, just so you know." "I know. I love you." "...I know."

[accio-sriracha]

Jealousy - Jegulus + Wolfstar

~~~♤~~~

Remus and Reg purposefully trying to make Sirius and James jealous by flirting with each other and it works EVERY TIME.

Remus will literally walk up to him and wrap his arms around his shoulders, "Where have you been all my life?"

Regulus just smirks and plays along immediately, "I'm here now, wanna now what it's like to be with the more attractive Black brother?"

The other two just lose their shit.

Slytherin actually beats Gryffindor in a quidditch match and Remus rushes to Reg to hug him, clinging to his arm the way James always does.

Sirius and James are literally fuming. They lost the game AND their boyfriends to each other.

Remus, Lily, and Regulus are the readers of the group.

Reg noticed James getting needy for attention after he spends too much time talking to them about a book they're all annotating together (it's my headcannon please let me have this) and he purposefully gets really close to Remus, covering a blanket over both of their laps and giggling at Remus' notes in the margins.

James grabs Reg's hand and tugs him to the dorm room. Locking and silencing spells are cast. Neither of them resurface for hours.

They're just so petty and funny together because they know how possessive their boyfriends are.

It's okay though because behind closed doors it's all soft kisses and murmured I love you's because they all love and trust each other indefinitely and neither of the boys would ever believe their boyfriends would leave them for a second.

~~~♤~~~

[enviedear]

save the date ⟶ james potter

DESCRIPTION ⌙ after an innocent suggestion that james potter is horrible at relationships, he feels inclined to prove you wrong. PAIRING ⌙ james x fem!reader CW ⌙ mention of food, eating food, petnames WORD COUNT ⌙ 2.3k

❛ ֪ ׂ shenanigans? is that what you call your love life? ֪ ׂ ❜

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for the second time this month, you’re spending your friday evening trying to drone out an argument. hilariously large and bulky headphones sit upon your ears— and yet you can still make out the aggravatingly grating noise.

if you’d known being james’ roommate would have entailed you hearing multiple fights from different girlfriends, you may not have signed the lease.

may not have— because a rent controlled apartment in the city is far too good to pass by.

truthfully, you felt a little bit bad for james. he was so good at picking gorgeous, captivating women. you could never fault his taste, no, you faulted his ability to be a boyfriend.

take this instance, a disagreement that started over dinner plans, only to devolve into a full blown argument. over what currently? you’re not exactly sure. but by the way the woman was yelling at him, you were sure he had said something stupid.

seconds later you can hear her huff, slam his door, walk down the stairs, and leave the apartment.

slowly, you remove your headphones, the noise of your music now being the only thing you can hear. you wait, looking expectantly at your door.

almost on some cue, james opens your door with a counterfeit smile on his face, “any plans tonight?”

you roll your eyes at him, “let me guess? non refundable dinner reservation and two tickets to the movies.”

he walks into your room, plopping down on your bean bag chair, “act nice or i’ll take sirius instead.”

you ignore him, “be honest, what did you do this time?”

“absolutely nothing.” he grumbles, shaking his head.

you didn’t believe him for a second. you’ve known james for four years now and you’ve lived with him for two. you knew in your soul that he, despite trying, always managed to do something.

he had a strange ineptitude for romance. it was as though he couldn't make it a week before his stupidity turned from endearing to unbearable.

he sighs, "she kept asking me if i had anything planned for our date— and i didn't want to ruin the surprise, so i just kept saying no. 'no, honey, i figure we'd wing it.' fuck— i didn't think it would blow up like that."

you gape at him, "but you did tell her, right?"

he shrugs, "by the time i thought to she was already leaving."

this was james, unable to keep a relationship purely because of his own doing.

"you're going to end up alone." you chuckle, fiddling with your phone to turn off your music.

james is silent, so you go on, "i'm saying this from a place of love, but you're horrible at relationships. almost criminally bad at them." your finger points at him, mocking.

he glares at you, tousled curls falling into his eyes, "i am not."

you grin, "yes— you are."

he ignores you, plopping down onto your bean bag, "and still i get more dates than you," he pauses, muttering out, "brat."

"you do not!" you don't mean to, but your voice comes out childishly.

james finally rids himself of his frown, smirking, "fuck's sake, calm down." it takes everything in you to not pelt him with whatever's near you. he has such a chuck-worthy grin.

it was often that the two of you would have these petty disagreements. mostly due to the close proximity of sharing the same space, but sometimes, you honestly didn't understand why both of you were so worked up.

you get off of your bed and squat down to his level, "i'm so close to throwing you out."

he smiles, and lazily pulls you down with him, "i didn't mean it, don't be mad."

you narrow your eyes, despite the grin on your face, "you're temperamental, potter."

he chuckles, eyes now closed, "and you're wrong."

you hum, arm touching his, "about what?"

he looks at you, "'bout me. that i'm bad at relationships."

you almost laugh at him, because if there was one thing you knew as fact— it was that james had a ninety-nine percent fail rate.

so you're easily coy when you speak, "oh, then please, prove me wrong."

your tone is playful, but james' eyes make you pause. he looks eerily\ honestly, determined.

"with pleasure." he says simply.

you don't say anything after. not for a few moments. you try instead to ignore the strange tightness in your chest at his words. wordlessly, you rise from beside him and open up your closet door.

"what time is this reservation?" you ask, subtitling watching his face brighten.

james smiles, "you'll come?"

you shrug, "i'll never turn down money spent well."

he laughs, "and you think my funds are best spent on you?"

there's a mischievous glint in your voice, "aren't i always the best cause."

he feigns annoyance at you, but goes to leave your room so that you can change. as you watch him go, and note the way his dress shirt hugs the curves of his toned back. often, you’d catch yourself admiring him. it was silly, but despite your usual chagrin of him and his antics, you found him so beautiful.

you’re barely concentating on the clothes he's wearing now, thinking instead to the half-awake version of him from last night, wearing only his plaid boxers and leaning against the fridge, a glass of water in his hand, eyes half-lidded.

and then, the james you so often see after a shower. his face flushed, hair tousled, and towel always riding just low enough.

of course, you noticed him and you tried not to lie to yourself about it. you found him attractive, sure, but that was all. you knew there was nothing else there, and you’d be an idiot if you let your mind even think there was.

putting your fascination with him to the side, you scour your closet for something presentable. reaching the back of your closet before finding anything, a flowy little number you had apparently hidden from yourself for god knows how long. you inspect it, and slip it on once you decide that the small wrinkles at the bottom of the skirt are inconsequential.

you do your makeup in the bathroom, james butting in often to try and hurry you along, "how many coats of mascara more? can we please leave?"

you shush him each time until you're finally ready, "there— see? that didn't take so long did it?"

he rolls his eyes, "felt like bloody years."

you chuckle, opening the door for him, "i don't even think i reached an hour, you brat."

he jingles his keys in your face, his assortment of keychains slapping against each other, "play nice."

it's safe to say you do not 'play nice' for the entire duration of the car ride. you take immediate ownership of the radio instead, queuing all your favorite songs. james protests for five or so minutes before shaking his head with you and singing along.

the restaurant he's chosen is a suedo-modern fusion steakhouse— horribly expensive— and you can't help but feel a little out of place as you step inside. james, however, seems right at home. he greets the hostess by name and leads you to a private booth in the back.

as you sit down, you eye him, "what?" he asks, sipping his water.

"how often do you come here. i mean, they seem to know you." you're smirking, finding it quite funny.

james shrunches his face, "no, actually, my parents have insisted on eating here for my past six birthdays."

you hum, "i forget mommy and daddy are wealthy, you should really advertise it more. as an incentive." you're kidding of course, james reeked of rich kid. in the nicest way.

he gestures at you with his butterknife, "you think i haven't pulled that? c'mon honey i'm not completely daft."

you chuckle, taking a sip of your own water. watching as james continues, dwelling into a story about work. you've already heard it but you'd feel wretched to tell him. so, you listen, watching his brown eyes and strong use of his hands with each adjective used.

you've almost blocked everything but him from your sense when the waiter returns, placing down an appetizer you're sure the two of you didn't order.

you look to james, who's in the middle of placing his order. he sends you a wink.

you fumble through your own order, cursing yourself for not looking at the menu more thoroughly.

"do you even know what that is?" james asks when the waiter walks away.

you roll your eyes, "yes james, i'm well aware of the french word for fish."

he shrugs, "can't hurt to make sure." there's a pause, "d'ya like the wontons?"

your face morphs into a smile, "you ordered this?"

"yeah when i made the reservation, don't feel too special." he's got a shit-eating grin on his face, freckles more prominent in the overhead light.

you tease, "i'll remember this next time you're in need of my assistance."

he leans back, feigning innocence, "hey, i'm just trying to create a memorable dining experience."

the conversation continues to flow, easy and familiar. it doesn't surprise you, how comfortable you are with james, even when he's being his usual cheeky self. the food arrives, and you both enjoy the meal, trading bites and sharing stories. it's one of those moments when you forget about the world outside and just relish in the company of a friend.

as dessert arrives, james leans in a bit closer, his tone shifting to something more serious. "you know, i appreciate you putting up with my shenanigans. not just tonight, but all the time."

you raise an eyebrow, a playful grin on your face, "shenanigans? is that what you call your love life?"

he chuckles, but his gaze is sincere, "yeah, that and everything else. you've been there for me, and i don't say it enough, but i'm really grateful."

you feel a warmth in your chest at his words, and for a moment, the playful banter fades away. "you're not so bad yourself, potter."

he smiles, a genuine one this time, "i'd hope so."

an hour passes by, and you're both lost in conversation when you realize the restaurant is beginning to close up. with a sigh, you both gather your things and leave. the night air is cool as you step outside, and you find yourselves walking down the quiet streets back to his car.

as you stroll, james looks over at you, his expression soft, "you know, i might not be great at relationships, but i've always liked what we have. you're more than just a roommate to me, you're like my confidant, my partner-in-crime, and my closest friend."

you feel a flush of emotion at his words, a mix of happiness and something you can't quite put your finger on. "you too, potter. just don't let it get to your head."

he grins, slipping his hands into his pockets, "wouldn't dream of it."

the two of you continue your leisurely walk, the city lights casting a warm glow around you. it's a somewhat quiet night, but the silence is comfortable, the kind that comes from years of shared experiences and unspoken understanding.

as you approach the car, james stops and turns to you, his gaze searching yours, "you know, i might be awful at relationships, but there's one thing i'm certain of."

you raise an eyebrow, curious, "and what's that?"

he opens his car door, soft smirk on his face, "i'm pretty sure i've already found the best thing in my life."

your heart skips a beat, but your eyes roll, "smooth, potter. really laying it on thick."

he chuckles, a hint of nervousness in his eyes, "i mean it, though." he proceedes to give a light shrug before getting into the car.

you chuckle and follow him, "you're insufferable."

he smiles, turning to head to you, "you can say whatever you want, but you know deep down you love me."

you slide into the passenger seat and playfully roll your eyes, "maybe i just have a high tolerance for insufferable people."

james starts the car, and as he pulls away from the curb, he glances at you with a mischievous glint in his eyes, "ah, so you're admitting it now, are you?"

you laugh, shaking your head, "i said high tolerance, not undying affection."

he grins, focusing on the road, "well, that's progress, i suppose."

the drive back to your apartment is filled with lighthearted banter and comfortable silences. when you finally arrive, you both step out of the car and make your way to the entrance.

as you approach your apartment door, james turns to you, a playful grin on his face, "you know, i have another surprise for you."

you raise an eyebrow, curious, "oh really? and what might that be?"

he reaches into his pocket and pulls out a small box, presenting it to you with a flourish, "ta-da! a box of chocolate-covered strawberries, your favorite."

you take the box with a surprised smile, "well, well, james potter, you're really pulling out all the stops tonight."

he chuckles, "just trying to prove that i'm not a lost cause in all things romantic."

you open the box and take a strawberry, popping it into your mouth with a satisfied hum, "i have to admit, this is a step in the right direction."

james grins, looking almost proud of himself, "i'll take what i can get."

you both head inside, and as you settle back into your apartment, you can't help but reflect on the evening. despite his usual antics and relationship mishaps, there's a side of james that you've come to appreciate more and more—a side that values your friendship and makes an effort to show it.

as the night winds down and you both prepare for bed, you find yourself sitting on your respective beds, sharing a comfortable silence. you glance over at james, who's focused on scrolling through his phone, and you can't help but feel a sense of contentment.

"hey, potter," you speak up, breaking the silence.

he looks up, raising an eyebrow, "yes, my dear roommate?"

you smirk, "you know, you might be onto something with this whole 'proving me wrong' thing."

he grins, setting his phone aside, "oh, am i winning you over, then?"

you shake your head, a teasing glint in your eyes, "let's not get ahead of ourselves. but maybe, just maybe, you're not as hopeless as i thought."

james leans back, looking satisfied, "i'll take that as a victory."

you both exchange smiles, and in that moment, you're reminded of why you agreed to be james potter's roommate in the first place. despite his esoteric personality, he's genuine and loyal, and always there to bring a smile to your face—even if it's through exasperation.

with a smirk you get up, making your way upstairs before calling out, "I'm free this Sunday, might as well give you a second date."

[saintsenara]

I mean I feel like every person on the planet would still be obsessing over schoolboy experiences and unable to hold a civil tongue as an adult if one of those experiences was some thug setting them up to get murdered by a werewolf and getting away with it scot-free! Sometimes I kinda feel like JKR went a tiny bit too hard in Snape’s Worst Memory.

an eminently reasonable point, anon - in response to this, on whether sirius and snape could work as a couple if james was still alive.

the werewolf incident and the bullying we see in snape's worst memory are pretty bonkers - and, while they're great for character work [snape seeing himself as a victim targeted for his obvious poverty by the posh and beloved, who the rest of the school will always side with, is a really key aspect of his radicalisation], and while the fact that the marauders basically get away with everything is crucial for the plot [since both james and sirius need that swaggering conviction that they're invincible for the idiotic secret keeper plan to work], they aren't helping dumbledore beat the "hogwarts is a safeguarding nightmare" allegations...

[the older i get, the more sympathy i have with the opposition to dumbledore as headmaster. i'm team lucius malfoy, i fear. cut that hippogriff's head off...]

but one thing i think is really interesting is that - despite the intensity of the bullying and the weakness of the school's response - snape's beef with sirius in adulthood is a petty obsession over schoolboy drama, rather than a visceral response to trauma that he can be forgiven for being unable to control.

snape and sirius interact by behaving like children. they squabble constantly, go out of their way to make little digs about each other both to each other's faces and behind each other's backs, act like shaking hands is going to kill them, remember everything the other has ever said and done, and so on...

their aim is evidently to "win" their interactions in the eyes of others, by forcing those others to side unequivocally with them - even the "sirius black showed he was capable of murder at the age of sixteen" point in prisoner of azkaban is fundamentally snape trying to get dumbledore to acknowledge that he's the best little boy in the room. unsuccessfully.

but they also both clearly enjoy this way of interacting - and i think it's always worth emphasising that, while i think snape does sincerely believe that sirius intended to kill him by sending him to the shack, he is never shown in canon to be afraid of him.

[even when sirius is threatening him with his wand during the occlumency discussion, snape is too busy reading him to care.]

and the very fact that they spend so much time being childish towards each other proves this. because it's very striking - especially in prisoner of azkaban - that snape is afraid of lupin.

and this fear manifests itself not in confrontation, but in avoidance. snape goes out of his way to never be alone with lupin, he makes his efforts to undermine him [setting the essay which outs him as a werewolf, reminding dumbledore that he thinks he's helping sirius enter the castle] when he is guaranteed to be indisposed, and - after lupin leaves his teaching job - we literally never see the two interact.

i think you can make, then, a pretty plausible case for the idea that snape focuses his trauma over nearly being eaten by a werewolf onto... the werewolf himself. snape certainly thinks lupin was in on the plan to lure him to the shack - and he evidently regards the adult lupin as someone who approaches the management of his lycanthropy recklessly, which massively endangers others.

[remember, we only have lupin's word for the claim that snape forces him to leave his job because of his rage over his lost order of merlin... and not because lupin's failure to take his wolfsbane might have killed any number of the children who live in the school he appears to have been hired at to teach without any safeguarding measures being put in place.]

[although - before i make snape sound like an ofsted hero - obviously the main reason he forces lupin out is because he thinks he conspired with dumbledore and harry to free the man who murdered his beloved lily, and lupin is the only one of those people who he can feasibly get revenge on.]

lupin also functions - i think - as the living person on whom snape can focus his fury over james. and, in particular, over the hagiographical way james is remembered - which harry draws attention to in order of the phoenix by pointing out that nobody but snape has ever told him that his father was anything less than wonderful. snape's loathing of james' postmortem reputation - which connects to a belief he has while at school that james is two-faced, obsessed with his public image, and nowhere near as charming in private as he likes to make himself seem before a crowd [which is, of course, the only reason he thinks james intervened before lupin could kill him] - seems to me to be the clearest way in which his trauma over being bullied and never receiving any acknowledgement of that fact manifests itself.

[after all, the fact that everyone is agreed that james was perfect and noble and clever and loyal and funny and brave and benignly cheeky must make him feel... pretty gaslit...]

lupin is the character who expresses this hagiographical view of james most explicitly - he is literally incapable of ever criticising him [i.e. him telling harry that snape thinks james was a bully because he was jealous that james was so talented and popular... instead of because he was a bully...], hence him becoming the focus of snape's lingering trauma over what the "perfect" james did to him.

in contrast, snape clearly regards sirius as more honest - by which i don't mean that he regards him as more admirable, but that he believes with sirius that what you see is what you get. as bizarre as it sounds, i think he actually rates sirius for his role in the werewolf trick, because the callous disregard for his life sirius displays is something which confirms snape's belief that he's a cruel, crude, murderous cunt who doesn't deserve an ounce of the praise he gets, and he's clearly pleased that sirius appears to agree with this assessment. james and lupin - both of whom he clearly thinks whitewash their roles in the scheme in order to seem heroic [james] and a poor innocent [lupin] - upset him much more because he knows they're awful, violent liars but nobody else can see it.

this is an extremely perverse way of respecting someone, but it is respecting someone nonetheless... and i do think, as i said in the ask which inspired this one, that this would set up a way for snape and sirius to grow beyond the schoolboy sniping in time, in a world where james and lily lived and snape and sirius weren't forced by their grief into a state of arrested development - perpetually twenty-one, each using his teenage relationship with the other as a way of self-soothing his agony by regressing to a dynamic they had when their lost loves were still alive...

[hollowed-theory-hall]

"gave Snape a stable job....despite being abusive to children (though he probably didn't perceive himself as such)"

I am a tad confused about this. How could Severus not possibly understand that he was being abusive to the kids under his care- especially Harry? Did he feel threatened by the children under his care to the point of viewing them as equals and thus justifying his behaviour to himself (why didn't the other teachers call him out on his shit)

Anonymous: am curious. You mentioned Snape likely doesn't realise that he is abusing the children under his care and mimicking his father. Does he actually feel powerless enough to justify his behaviours to himself? When he sees James in Harry and blames Neville does he see the boys as his equals/ someone above him in power that needs to be put down- thus allowing himself to continue acting the way he does? It's ironic all things considered. For all that Harry looks like James, he takes more after Lily.

Okay, so, I just wrote a post about Snape, but I'll cover here what I'm thinking about this specifically in more detail.

I'm not sure where the quote you mentioned is from, but I can say what I think about the way Snape treats Harry and his students and how he sees it.

So, Severus was abused by his father. From his behavior, what I guess is that a lot of his treatment of his students is him mimicking what he saw from his father.

Like, Severus became a professor at 21. It means his older students knew him as a student. Not to mention he was a terrorist, known Death Eater, who was saved by Dumbledore from being sent to Azkaban. And his students knew this.

So Severus felt like he needed a way to make sure his students would take him seriously. The main example he decided to draw from — his father, Tobias.

We don't know what exactly Tobias Snape did, he was a poor, working-class man who abused his wife and son. And I think when Tobias wanted to be taken seriously, he used fear, insults, and force. So this is what Severus knows.

Severus sees what he does as the only way students would treat him seriously, he doesn't really see it as abuse, as I believe he doesn't really see his father's mistreatment of him as abuse.

Severus always struck me as a character who doesn't want to get better.

I think Severus is one of the abused kids who rationalized his own abuse as something he deserved. He clearly wants to beat himself up about his mistakes. He wants to feel the guilt over pushing Lily away and then over killing her (in his mind). So, to him, in his mind, it's not abuse, it's what they deserve.

Is it good that's what he thinks? No, not at all, it actually sucks. Snape needed therapy.

Now, with Harry specifically, his treatment is different. With Harry, he really does see him as an equal and he needs Harry to treat him seriously. Like, Snape projects James on Harry way more than Sirius does. And Snape can't show anything resembling weakness to Mini-James Potter, so he goes back to his father's methods to be taken seriously. It's about Harry not seeing him as weak like James did.

And revenge, a little bit. Snape is very petty.

He still doesn't see his vengeance as abuse, because, as much as Severus wants to believe he's the one in power, he's scared of Harry more than he's willing to confess. He doesn't see a power imbalance between him and Harry, he doesn't actually see himself in a position of power, because he sees James in Harry. Harry doesn't treat Severus with the respect usually given to professors, which strengthens the way Severus doesn't really see him as a student.

Like, the fact Severus felt the need to remove memories he didn't want Harry to see when teaching him Occlumancy shows how much he fears Harry. Fears the possibility of Harry getting this information and using it against him.

Harry sat there staring at Snape as the lesson began, picturing horrific things happening to him. . . . If only he knew how to do the Cruciatus Curse . . . he’d have Snape flat on his back like that spider, jerking and twitching. . . . “Antidotes!” said Snape, looking around at them all, his cold black eyes glittering unpleasantly. “You should all have prepared your recipes now. I want you to brew them carefully, and then, we will be selecting someone on whom to test one. . . .” Snape’s eyes met Harry’s, and Harry knew what was coming. Snape was going to poison him. Harry imagined picking up his cauldron, and sprinting to the front of the class, and bringing it down on Snape’s greasy head —

(GoF, 300-301)

In the above quote, Harry has these thoughts while Snape is reading his mind — there's eye contact. So Severus sees these thoughts from Harry and doesn't separate this from James, he sees it and thinks that Harry very much might actually spill his entire cauldron on him — like James might've done. So, Severus is taking every instance like this to justify his fear of Harry and his need to keep him down.

With Neville it's different. He doesn't fear Neville the way he fears Harry, I think he does see Neville as someone weaker. In the case of Neville, Severus is, I think, doing what a lot of bullies do, picking on a weaker link to feel better about himself. More in control, more capable. Neville being next to Harry is kinda part of it, I don't think Snape would've been as harsh with Neville if he wasn't near Harry, who makes Snape kinda lose it and feel unbalanced and insecure in his position because he sees him as James more than as Harry.

And I agree with you second Anon, personality-wise, I think Harry isn't very similar to James at all. And he definitely has some of Lily's traits in him, but he's not her either, he's his own person. Something Snape willfully chooses not to see. It's easier for him not to see it, so he chooses not to, so he can keep up with his petty vengeance towards a dead man.

As for why other teachers didn't call him out, well, I think the Wizarding World has a very different approach to child care than the modern western world does.

We know corporal punishment was allowed at Hogwarts and the Wizarding World at large. One of the good things Dumbledore did as a headmaster was stop the use of it at the castle, but it was socially acceptable in the WW even in the 1990s. Actually, even in the muggle UK in the 1990s caning was still allowed in private schools, and Harry is clearly aware of this fact:

“Excuse me, Professor Flitwick, could I borrow Wood for a moment?” Wood? thought Harry, bewildered; was Wood a cane she was going to use on him? But Wood turned out to be a person, a burly fifth-year boy who came out of Flitwick’s class looking confused.

(PS, 109)

Because this is something that was still practiced in the UK. Harry actually had to lie to Aunt Marge that he was getting canned at St. Brutus school since that's something that happened there.

And it also happened in the Wizarding World until very recently, Molly says Arthur still has marks from what was most likely a caning when he was at Hogwarts:

Mrs. Weasley grinned, her eyes twinkling. “Your father and I had been for a nighttime stroll,” she said. “He got caught by Apollyon Pringle — he was the caretaker in those days — your father’s still got the marks.”

(GoF, 616)

Umbridge (and the Carrows) later returns corporeal punishment to Hogwarts, and it's quite clear there is no law against it in the WW:

“Approval for Whipping . . . Approval for Whipping . . . I can do it at last. . . . They’ve had it coming to them for years. . . .” He [Filch] pulled out a piece of parchment, kissed it, then shuffled rapidly back out of the door, clutching it to his chest.

(OotP, 673)

Molly actually beat Fred with a broom (or at least attempted to) and it's considered fine and legal and not abuse:

“Seen the Fizzing Whizbees, Harry?” said Ron, grabbing him and leading him over to their barrel. “And the Jelly Slugs? And the Acid Pops? Fred gave me one of those when I was seven — it burnt a hole right through my tongue. I remember Mum walloping him with her broomstick.” Ron stared broodingly into the Acid Pop box.

(PoA, 200)

Because the Wizarding World (and the UK) in the 1990s had a very different view on abuse and domestic violence. So, yeah, I don't think Severus considered what he did abuse, he considered it harsh discipline, like he himself received as a child. The way everyone ignores Harry's (and Snape's as a child) very clear signs of being abused is also telling. A rough hand and insults with disobedient children is just considered what you do, and not horrifyingly gross behavior like we see it today.

And the other teachers don't step in, because they consider it just as legal and acceptable as Snape. Because it is in the Wizarding World.

[theemporium]

Idk if you take requests like this. But I'd love, if you write that is, Marauders era character' reaction when the reader flashes at them during an argument (there was a tiktok treand going on)

Idk which all marauders you write to, so feel comfortable to write the only ones you write for. Also can you make it a fem!reader prety please? Thankyou so much!

thank you for requesting!🖤i just did this with the three main boys, enjoy!

.

Sirius: 

“He was all over you!” 

“He’s a friend!” 

“And he wants to shag you!” 

“I don’t care, you’re the only one I want to shag!” 

The argument had been going on for the better part of the last hour. Sirius had always been a dramatic person and you knew that. A part of you truly adored it because his theatrical flare was entertaining, nine times out of ten. 

But right now? It made you want to put your head through a wall. 

“Sirius, you need to drop this,” you huffed out, hands on your hips as you watched the boy pace around the room. “I don’t care about him like that, why does it matter if he does—which he doesn’t, by the way.” 

“Because!” Sirius exclaimed with no other explanation. 

“For fucks sake,” you grumbled, shaking your head as the boy only rolled his eyes. 

“You don’t even care that this is upsetting me!” he accused, his tie askew and more buttons of his shirt undone than they had been this morning. “You don’t care that he’s trying to shag you and that it upsets me. Merlin, maybe you even like the attention because he’s a pretty bloke with pretty eyes and pretty hair and—” 

Sirius was rambling. And when he rambled, he really fucking rambled and you were not in the mood to deal with it right now—especially with something so stupid. 

Without a second thought, your fingers gripped the hem of your shirt and quickly pulled it up to your chin, watching the boy slowly come to a halt as his eyes dropped to your chest. 

“Oh,” he murmured helplessly. 

“Good. Now that you’ve shut up, you can listen to me,” you said, letting your shirt fall down as you reached for him. 

But Sirius whined, tugging the edge of your shirt back up. “Baby, no, don’t cover them up now.” 

.

Remus:

Remus Lupin was a stubborn bastard when it came to giving the silent treatment. 

It was irritable at the best of times. Majority of the time, it would be a silly little thing he would do when you got into petty arguments, and it wouldn’t last anything longer than five minutes before he was pulling you towards him and keeping you close. But sometimes—on the off chance you’ve had a really bad argument—it could go on for days.  

This time seemed to fall with the latter. 

It had been a tense week. Between raging hormones and upcoming full moons, the added stress of exams and assignments and marauder shenanigans hadn’t worked in your favour. You and Remus had been snappier than usual at each other and it led to one big blow out that resulted in neither of you talking to each other for the last three days. 

But now, you were tired and done with arguing and you just wanted your boyfriend. However, Remus didn’t seem eager to talk it out. 

“Really? We are still doing this?” you questioned as you stood at the foot of his bed, watching as he lazily turned the page of his book as though you hadn’t been in the room for the last fifteen minutes. “You’re being childish, Remus.” 

And yet, the boy still didn’t reply. 

Your boyfriend was as stubborn as he was gorgeous, and you had never hated it more than you did in that moment. 

But everyone had their weaknesses and you just so happened to know your boyfriend’s very well. 

“If that’s the way you wanna play it,” you grumbled as you reached for the hem of your shirt, pulling it over your head and chucking the material at Remus without a second thought. 

He paused mid-page flip, glancing down at the material before his eyes slowly lifted to look at you, clad in only your skirt and bra now. His eyes darkened, a flurry of emotions passing through that you recognised well enough. 

“Shit,” he muttered, halfheartedly throwing his book on his bedside table. 

“Now you’re talking to me?” you teased as you watched him crawl to the end of the bed, reaching out for you eagerly.

“We can talk later,” Remus grumbled as his fingers glided up your back towards the clasp of your bra. “Got more important stuff to do right now.” 

.

James: 

It wasn’t fair. 

You were good at arguing. Merlin, you were one of the best people when it came down to it. You loved a good argument. You loved winning an argument. And there was nothing better in knowing you were one hundred percent, without a single fucking doubt right. 

But your boyfriend was making it really difficult to argue when he was prancing around the room half-naked.

You could barely even remember what the argument was about anymore. All you knew was that James had already been pissy after losing a quidditch match and he kept being short with you, and the next thing you knew, you were bickering back and forth in his dorm room. Then he pulled his quidditch jersey over his head, leaving his thick arms and broad shoulders and glistening chest on display, and every single coherent thought left your head.

“Are you even listening to a word I’m saying?” 

You blinked, your surroundings returning to you as you stared at the pouting boy a few feet away from you. His hands were resting on his hips, his lips turned down in a somewhat frown and his messy curls covering his furrowed eyebrows. He was still pissed and now you were pissed at him for distracting you. 

It wasn’t fair so you decided to even the playing field. 

Without a moment of hesitance, you pulled your jumper over your head and let it thump onto the ground. You stood there, showing as much skin as he was, and watched as his eyes widened comically as he stared at your tits in the red bra you were wearing.

“I—” he paused, gulping a little. “What are you doing?” 

“Making this argument fair,” you stated simply as though you weren’t resisting the urge to reach out and watch his abs softly clench under your touch. “Now are you gonna tell me why you’re in such a shitty mood or do I have to keep pretending I know why you’re being like this?”

.

[delirium1217]

saltwater

“Why didn’t you- when Sirius left,” James takes a deep breath, readying himself. “Why didn’t you leave, too?” James finds himself whispering, the words coming out in soft breaths, almost as if he was afraid of scaring Regulus off into the harrowing night. 

The orange lights from overhead illuminated his face. His hair had gotten long, reaching the tops of his shoulders. James’ hands ached to brush them off his face, just to make sense of his expression. He looked out into the distance, eyes refusing to reach his. James wondered if he would ever respond.

But eventually he does.

“You already know, James.” He sounds exhausted in a way that makes his skin prickle with anxiety.

Maybe James did, maybe he just wanted to absolve his guilt. This was selfish. 

The silence stretches between them until it’s something that cloaks over both their shoulders. Until it suffocates and presses upon James’ throat.

When Regulus speaks, it is in a flat voice. 

“I had to stay behind for my family,” Monotone. Rehearsed. Reserved.

He hated that, he hated that Regulus ever thought James would be stupid enough to believe it. Maybe once it would’ve worked. Maybe once he really was that naïve. Once, when the arrogance of youth hadn’t left his bones broken and bruised. 

Now he knew better. The tug of guilt in his heart wasn’t enough to stop the words from toppling out.

“Were you afraid?” James looks up at him. Grey eyes sparkle under the warm glow, still turned away.

For once, Regulus doesn’t hesitate. He replies immediately, not skipping a beat. 

“No.” 

“Well then what were you?” James bites back, a flair of unjustified anger overtaking him.

“I was logical. I was pragmatic.” Back to the detached tone. The lies he told himself. 

“That’s bullshit and you know it.” 

Regulus finally breaks his stare-off with the sea. He looks at James, and at once he realizes just how different Regulus and Sirius were. Had it been Sirius he was speaking to, the hurl of petty, teetering on hurtful, replies would have been never ending. And they had. The way Sirius accused James of charity work, of messing with him, of giving offers he couldn’t uphold. A hero complex. 

He expected all these accusations to tumble out of Regulus’ mouth just as easily as they had out of Sirius’. They didn’t.

Was it the only child in him? Did he expect all siblings to act in identical ways?

Regulus saw through James. It scared him in ways he couldn’t possibly fathom. 

The silence makes itself known again. 

“Happiness like that is fickle. I couldn’t trust myself around it. I would’ve smashed it up till my fingers bled.” he said, eyes piercing through the distance between them. 

Simple, like they were discussing the weather or which Quidditch teams they liked. Like it wasn’t something that fractured assumptions and mindsets James has spent years believing. 

He didn’t know what to say to that. It wasn’t fear, but now he wished it was.

“That’s not- it’s not how it would’ve went.” His words sounded weak, flimsy. They were. Was he certain that Regulus, the quiet boy he’d once been - who seemed so dead-set to bring about his own misery - did he trust him not to take apart up whatever careful placement he and Sirius had built?

It was an egregious thought. A shameful one that made James almost rue Regulus for ever suggesting it. 

James busies his hand with holding on to the rails, to avoid Regulus’ eyes. 

They don’t say anything beyond that. This wasn’t something James could fix. He looks out into the sea.