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Introvert Reggie with Extrovert James where neither try to make the other act differently is *cheff’s kiss*
281 words, James Potter/Regulus Black, fluff
James always expressed that he wouldn’t change for anyone, and while that used to piss Regulus off to no end, he finds that he wouldn’t change anything about James now, either. Not the way he seeks him out when he turns into himself, nor the way James is always the first one to crack a joke or lighten the mood if Sirius doesn’t beat him to it. Regulus loves everything about him, and any resentment from the past has waned into ancient history, for the thing about James is that when he becomes someone’s, he becomes theirs irrevocably.
“Alright, love?” James’ voice breaks through his reverie, exhausted and out of breath as he plants a kiss on Regulus’ curls, still swaying from the dancing he’s doing across the club with the rest of their friends.
“Just fine. You can go back to what you were doing. I quite liked the look of it.”
James grins salaciously and then leans down, whispering in his ear.
“Like watching, do you?”
Regulus turns and bites into James’ jawline, quelling the urge to pull him down and start something they couldn’t finish, at least not in a public club.
“Love it.”
The man musters something close to a growl and then kisses Regulus, abandoning him as fast as he arrived, back to the dance floor and the movement of hundreds of bodies around him, entirely himself, and letting Regulus be himself, too: watching from a dark corner and no less happy for not being dragged into the chaos.
They are themselves… just together now, and while sometimes James still pisses him off, there’s love there he never expected and never wants to get rid of.
Moving house makes Sirius nostalgic. What other reason would he be smoking a cigarette in the same place he and Remus used to snog after classes let out? What reason would he have to place his back against the tree and slide down until the bark rips into his skin?
Punishment, maybe. For promising all those previous versions of himself that Remus loved but couldn’t reckon with would stay in the past. For letting some of it slip and leak into their happiness after Remus specifically requested he do his best not to break his heart. For, perhaps, breaking it anyways.
Time bleeds until James ends up crouched in front of him, gently slapping him on the knee.
“C’mon mate. Everything’s packed up.”
“Good riddance,” Sirius mutters. “London, here we come.”
James grins, dangling keys in front of him as he helps him up, brushing the bark silently off his back. Then, he looks around and sighs at Sirius who does his best to ignore that look.
“One day, we’ll come back and maybe he’ll-”
“Maybe,” Sirius agrees, though he tries not to hope too hard. “Maybe.”
James just grins, and they’re off to change their lives, Sirius praying he changes just enough to one day be Remus’ again.
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When the day comes of what would’ve been Hope’s fifty-third birthday, Sirius finds his husband sitting on the deck of their home. He comes up behind him and slides a hand down his chest, resting on his shoulder as they stare out at the Welsh fields.
“Do you think she’d be proud now, to see us this happy?”
Remus shrugs.
“I dunno, Siri. You certainly weren’t her ideal dream for me when you showed up that night.”
Sirius laughs, smacking a kiss on his husband’s cheek.
“What? The leather, the tattoos, and our matching helmets with our initials carved into them didn’t inspire confidence?”
The laugh that leaves Remus is one of the many reasons Sirius loves him. It’s so full, so charming. He fell for Remus long before that night they went away, and here he is, ten years later, still loving him.
“And yet she let me go.”
“Your father threw a proper fit, I’m told.”
Remus huffs.
“I suppose. I’ll never really know anymore.” Quiet reigns for a moment, then Sirius rounds the chair and plops into Remus’ lap.
“We’ve done well. My art, your teaching… we made it, despite everything.”
“Yeah. We did… and I think… I think they’re both proud. Hopefully. Probably.”
Sirius laughs and threads his hands through Remus’ hair, kissing him proper.
Alright gang, for the sacrifice today I have freak 4 freak Evan and Barty.
732 words, Barty Crouch Jr./Evan Rosier, quiet abduction, stockholm syndrome-au, there's something going on between them and it ain't right, nor do we want it to be, explicit/suggestive language
There’s something to be said for a quiet evening in, Evan thinks. He glances over his book to make sure Barty is still present in the room, smiling when he finds him sorting through a set of gears as he holds his wand between his teeth, a slight wrinkle of concentration on his brow.
They’ve been on the go the past few weeks, day in and day out, moving Barty’s things into Evan’s home and collecting anything else he could possibly want to transition into being a kept man.
Well, that’s how Evan explained it at least.
He keeps an eye on his prey, observing as someone so bloody smart falls into his trap hour by hour. It makes him a bit cocky and half-hard, just the idea that he finally tamed the Barty Crouch Junior, wizengamot politician’s son and the smartest wix in his era.
“How’s the project going?”
Barty spares him but a glance as he grins and takes his wand out of his mouth. The spells he performs are too complicated for Evan to understand, but that’s alright. Barty is smarter, stronger, and wittier than Evan, yet he’d used all that to his advantage to entrap him.
“Well, I bollocksed the welding spell on the first try, so considering I’m on my second go and nothing has gone wrong yet, I’d say net-zero. Might need to run out and grab a few fiddly bits tomorrow, though.”
Evan just hums.
“We can go whenever you’d like.”
“I can go on my own,” Barty responds casually, sticking his wand back between his teeth.
Evan tries to keep the wave of indignation at bay… but it’s been weeks now without any conflict and a part of him is itching for a fight. What part, he’s not sure. He wanted Barty here, trapped but happy, yet something inside of him likes when he can take someone in hand. Besides, he can’t wait to see the look on Barty’s face when he realizes he’s been had.
“I’m not letting you do that.”
“I know,” Barty huffs, wand still in his mouth.
Evan’s head moves back an inch, startled by the declaration and how sure he is.
“You know? What do you think you know?”
Barty spits out his wand and looks him dead in the eye, “The wards don’t respond to my magic, you’ve got Gringotts-level security magic up, and you haven’t let me out of your sight in ages, glaring at any bloke or bird who glances my way. Not that I care, mind, s’long as you keep up your end of the deal.”
“My end of the deal?” Evan balks, abandoning his book to the side and withdrawing his wand.
“Yeah, calm your tits. I stay here, be your little pet, don’t work and don’t run too far, and you get to fuck me good and proper all the while caging me in like a potions experiment. M’not sure yet what you get out of it besides control over me and the best arse this side of the pond, but s’not so bad an arrangement, if you think about it.”
Evan’s hand grips his wand as if to snap it in half. Maybe he should do that to Barty’s. Would that increase the edge? Does he even want that? Or is the knowing better?
“And if I never let you leave again? Take your wand, put you in nothing but a warming charm for me to stare at every day, then what? Would you be so complicit then?”
Barty chuckles, crawls around the table he was working at and slides Evan’s knees open. He’s so hard it’s becoming uncomfortable, and the space his thighs create makes him moan.
“Remember, baby, if I can be stuck with you, that makes you just as much stuck with me too,” and he vanishes everything Evan is wearing with a wave of his hand, a powerful exhibit of magic which doesn’t help the situation in his trousers.
Maybe Evan underestimated him, or maybe… this is exactly what he needed. A hot mouth attaches to him, and he brutally grabs onto Barty’s hair, refusing to let go no matter what. He can work with this, he thinks, this mutual torture.
Barty’s tongue, suddenly split in two, wraps around him and before he’s fully pulled under this intoxicating spell, he thinks he most definitely can make this work.
So, I have some remus x gn!reader that I wrote on a whim at the idea of what some teasing might turn into when you're messing with Remus. Honestly, it was pretty fun to write, but I did have to walk a thin line of what I thought he'd take and what he absolutely wouldn't. ANYWAYS
797 words, Reader x Remus Lupin, EXPLICIT sexual content, post-hogwarts, werewolf remus, generic terms for reader, degredation, 18+
You find out about Remus’ secret on accident. It’s a joke, something you say to tease him when you’re in the middle of foreplay: “I thought werewolves were supposed to be well-endowed?”
It’s said in the most joking tone you can muster, and you two have been teasing for hours so he knows you’re taking the piss, too, but there’s something else in his eyes when you say it. His prick jumps, and your head goes back just slightly. Because he is indeed, very well endowed, but you like to be mean sometimes so he’ll be mean back.
This reaction, however, is new, and Remus’ face glows red seconds later.
“Do you like that?”
“I think you’d know, by now, if I did,” he huffs, grabbing your hips and dragging them over his erection.
Skin on skin feels lovely, but you’re determined to get to the bottom of that shiver.
“Remmy…”
Part moan, part call for him to listen to you, you decide to take the brave route instead. If there’s one thing this relationship has given you, it’s confidence. Remus is so complimentary, loving, and attracted to you that it’s hard to remember ever hating yourself. Not that he was the solution to such thoughts, but he was certainly an aid.
“Does my little wolf like it when I say he’s not got all that he thinks he does down there? That I don’t think he could split me open even if he was trying?”
You put a free hand on his wrist, his palm squeezing your hip, and then Remus keens as you brace your other hand on his chest, stopping him from moving your groin over his. He looks positively feral.
“I think I like the challenge.”
You grin. Remus bucks his hips.
“Baby-”
“What do you want, mutt?”
Remus eyes roll into the back of his head, his hips arching into yours so strongly you can’t really hold him down.
“Hm? Can’t even answer me? Not going to prove me wrong?”
His eyes pop back open, and soon you two are flipped, his hands divesting you of everything you’re wearing, layer by layer as his short nails scrape against your skin. It feels so good that for a moment, you’ve lost the plot entirely. Until he’s kissing your neck and down your chest, then his face is in between your legs.
You grab his hair, tight as he bites your thighs and teases the creases of your hips.
“Is that all you plan to do? Use your mouth? I suppose it’ll do.”
You bite your lip at your own words, because he’s conjured lube at some point and slips a finger into you, then another. It’s impossible not to feel good as Remus adds his mouth and you almost don’t want to egg him on any longer. Almost.
Problem is, the moment you go to say more, he beats you to it and begins to consume you whole. Your jaw drops, and the only thing that exits is a hefty moan that can probably be heard from the flat next door. The hand in his hair clenches, and he moans into your skin, making the pleasure all that more extreme.
By the time you’re loose and on the edge, Remus lets off and crawls up to you again, smirking.
“Anymore complaints, love?”
“I mean… you could fuck me. With what you’ve got, anyways.”
“With what I’ve-” he abandons the statement and snorts, kissing you silent, your own taste haunting his as your tongues mingle.
It’s undeniable when he enters you that what he has is more than enough. You squeeze and clutch to every part of him you have a hold on, and Remus chuckles.
“Regret the teasing yet?”
He punctuates every word with a brutal thrust.
“Teasing?” You huff, breathless and overcome. “You’re just a puppy-” he wraps a hand around your throat- “You need a firm hand, lest you forget who owns you.”
Remus is thoroughly amused now, and speaking of firm, his hand squeezes the breath from your throat, the pleasure going straight to where you and he are connected. It’s just what you need to bring you right to the edge and then over it, the pleasure overcoming you allowing Remus his own release, too.
When you both finish, he lets up and lays at your side, chuckling gently.
“That was fun,” you say bravely, pecking kisses against his lips.
“Mhm… I enjoyed proving you wrong.”
“So maybe it’s not so much the degradation you like, but you’re just a swot.”
He pokes you in the ribs for that jab, though his face is red. Maybe it’s both.
Thanks to my husband and the greentext that he showed me which inspired this :)
Wolfstar workplace AU, fresh off the presses!
750(ish) words, Sirius Black/Remus Lupin, Wolfstar, workplace romance, boss/employee (not for long hehe)
Remus feels his heart drop when his boss calls him into his office and tells him to shut the door. Like any employee who does his best not to cause trouble, he automatically assumes he’s going to be fired. A reasonable reaction, he thinks, but for what reason he cannot put his finger on.
Sure, he’s got rheumatic joints that keep him at home and working from his laptop a few times a months, but Sirius never seems to mind. Then there’s how much tea he drinks. Perhaps, he’s overindulged on the complimentary leaves on offer in the office? Or, and he loathes to think this one might be it, his boss has finally gotten sick of his ogling.
Remus will be the first to admit that Sirius is… fucking stunning. Curly black hair that is more reminiscent of a popstar than a CEO, cheekbones that could cut, a face card which not only doesn’t decline, but probably has unlimited credit, too, and that bloody walk. Sirius Black is all sinew and attraction, and Remus, gangly and scarred as he is, likes the bloke.
It’s almost shameful.
Almost being the key word because everyone stares at Sirius Black, not just Remus. It's impossible not to.
So, when he stumbles over the leg of a chair before he sits down, who is he to blame when he gets caught up in the worried look on Sirius’ face?
“Are you alright?”
“Yes, thank you. Sorry.”
Sirius chuckles.
“No need. I have… an odd proposition for you, do you have a few minutes?”
Remus, who is not prone to optimism, wonders if all of his dreams are about to come true because who says something like that? An odd proposition? Sirius even sits on the edge of his desk and crosses his arms, looking for all the world like a man about to eat him alive.
Which is, perhaps, why the next statement makes Remus head hurt, not just his joints.
“You can’t work here anymore, Remus.”
“Excuse me?”
Sirius’ grin drops just a bit, and then he settles into the chair next to Remus, hands out to placate him, which is fair. Remus can feel his face heating up. As much as he can talk about the reasons he could get fired, Remus knows he doesn't deserve to be.
Does the man want to get punched? Because as Sirius doesn’t elaborate further, Remus can feel his fist tightening, no matter how much it hurts to do so.
“Listen…" Sirius starts, slowly, "I think we both know how we feel about each other, yeah? And despite running this rubbish company, I can’t break the rules anymore than you can so, if we want to be together, which I very much do, then one of us needs to abandon ship. I’d quit, but I quite like the thought of taking care of you.”
An entirely new indignation lights up within Remus at the thought of being taken-care-of, but he then recalls the part where Sirius, out of what feels like nowhere, has admitted to wanting to be with him.
“Are you asking me to be your sugar baby?” Is what, unfortunately, leaves his mouth instead of a reasonable question that might hinge less on insane.
Sirius wobbles his palm.
“We don’t have to call it that. More like… I fear if I don’t give you the axe you’ll ignore me entirely,” Sirius explains, and Remus has never seen the man self-conscious before, “Which of course, you can tell me to fuck right off, and we’ll pretend this conversation never happened-”
“Sirius,” Remus interrupts, feeling a resolve settle in him that came entirely with his attraction being reciprocated, “Why don’t you take me on a date first? I mean, It’s not like it’s really dating until we’ve done more than one, then I can decide the rest, yeah?”
Grinning like a madman, Sirius gets up and clambors for the phone on his desk, his secretary picking up from outside the office.
“I need dinner reservations for two at that dairy-free place in Soho. No, I don’t care what you have to- thanks, Mary.”
Remus chuckles.
“How did you know I was lactose intolerant?”
Sirius shrugs, shoves his hands in his pockets and looks for all the world like he’s a teenager kicking rocks.
“You never put milk in your tea, I've certainly never seen you bring anything other than soup for lunch, and you rarely eat the pastries I bring in unless it's the macarons with jelly filling.”
And Remus, for all his blustering about the quantity of dates and his pride that sits deep within him, knows this is going to be his last day at the company. So, why not kiss the boss and go out with a bang? Or, much, much later, one hell of a decent shag?
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Minerva has a feeling about what this is about, but she’s enjoying the squirming happening in front of her nonetheless. Usually, neither Draco nor Harry are ever cowed by her presence these days. They’ve both grown up confident, yet argumentative, young men, and their individual relationship with her has evolved into friendly colleagues like the rest of the staff at Hogwarts.
“Professors… what is this about?”
Draco glances to Harry, and Harry, Merlin save him, stutters.
“Well- see, I wanted to- we, we wanted to know-”
“Salazar himself,” Draco huffs, and Minerva turns her gaze to him, Harry’s face bright red even out of the corner of her eye.
She may as well put them out of their misery.
“Is this about a request for joint quarters?”
Harry blinks, Draco remains impassive as Minerva enjoys their balking.
“It can be accomodated, of course. I thought you might have asked for the arrangements last term, frankly.”
Harry scratches the back of his neck. Draco looks put out while simultaneously having an air of someone who really would like to say I told you so.
“Was that all?”
Folding her hands over her desk and raising a brow at them, the young lads nod.
“The castle will sort it. The elves will make sure your things are in the new space to sort by the evening and for now, I suggest you start telling people. Not all of us are as perceptive as I am.”
She smirks, but no sooner than she’s done it has Draco begun to smirk as well.
“Can I tell Ronald?” He asks his partner and Minerva sighs as the two are off like the conversation never happened, bickering so much one might still assume they’re practically enemies.
mine - @jeggyverses-jegulus-microfic - word count: 262
Walburga may have been a bitch, but she was a fancy bitch. She held impossibly high standards and worried far too much about what other people thought, always making sure that her sons were dressed in the best clothing money could buy. While other boys their age were put in sensible clothing meant for growing teenagers, Sirius and Regulus often found themselves adorned in stupidly luxurious things–whether it be sterling silver jewelry with precious gems inlaid or underwear that cost more than most broomsticks.
Which is why, one morning when James decided to tidy up his area of the dorm a little, he recognized the brand of clothing in his hand immediately and knew it wasn’t his own.
“Pads, how does your stuff always end up over here?” he complained, throwing a soft, black jumper in his best friend’s direction.
Sirius, grumbling and still half-asleep, grabbed the jumper out of the air and stuffed it over his head. “Thanks, mate. Now I don’t have to search for one,” he muttered, smirking at Peter’s chuckle.
But he frowned when the jumper settled on his body, realizing that it absolutely did not fit.
“Wait…this isn’t…” Yanking it off his head, Sirius checked the size on the tag, his stomach flipping. “James, this isn’t mine.”
Still shoving things under his bed, James didn’t look up. “What’re you talking about? Whose else could it be?”
Then, after a split second, their eyes met, both of them realizing at the same time.
“Potter,” Sirius sighed, trying to decide if he was pissed or delighted.
Occasionally, I summon the power of real micro-fic.
Some short Jegulus to recover from all the long-form I've been writing recently!
168 words, Jegulus, James Potter/Regulus Black, fluff, dreams, allusions to sex
Sometimes, Regulus wakes up and his life feels like a dream. The dead of night prior, James had rolled over, half-asleep and warmer than fiendfyre, taking equally hot hands and placing them in tantalizing spots on Regulus’ body. It probably wasn’t even conscious, but Regulus had groaned nonetheless.
If he’d known it would fully wake James, well, he’d do it all over again, wouldn’t he?
Regulus can still feel the ache, their fretful, magic-assisted tryst echoing through the healing charms and the invasion of morning light.
“Alright, love?” A scratchy voice whispers behind him, and Regulus grins.
“I slept awfully.”
“Did you?” James asks, attempting to sound like he regrets that situation, but unfortunately, the dulcet tone and warm kisses along his shoulder aren’t indicative of remorse. “Wonder why?”
“Probably for the same reason I’m about to be tragically woken right now.”
James only chuckles, and while Regulus knows he’s had dreams just like this, nothing ever beats the reality of getting to wake up to it, too.
Part 6 of my little AU! If you've been following along, I hope you enjoyed!
970 words, James Potter/Regulus Black, Remus Lupin/Sirius Black, regency au, arranged marriage, happy ending, PART 6, finale
“Can I tell you something?” James says after an elf brings them tea that Regulus happily serves himself. “Only, you see, you might not like it.”
Regulus has to wonder if James has had a few drinks and is going to gently break his heart right now. Had he been so obvious? Regulus refuses to believe he let on at all, for everything that Sirius and Remus like to pretend they know… Regulus lived through Walburga only because he knows how to hide his emotions.
“I can’t imagine how you might offend me, James.”
The duke grins, looking into his tea.
“When Sirius, Remus, and I began to plan getting you and the rest of the staff out from under the Lady Black’s thumb… Sirius would speak of you. Constantly. He never tired of letting us know that you deserved the same rewards as he, and we took this into consideration when thinking of a plan to rise you out of your previous station.
“A few… well, there were options, you know, but I volunteered myself as your husband because… this all sounds so trite now, yet it remains true: I liked the sound of you. That’s all. You could be marrying the Earl of Rosier right now, or perhaps the Viscount Crouch? Although, rumor has it they’re taken with each other-”
“James,” Regulus interrupts, “What are you trying to say?”
Because there’s a million ideas floating in Regulus mind. James came to Walburga’s estate with the intent to find him, but also… to wed him, that Regulus knows, so is he admitting to liking the idea of him so much out of Sirius’ mouth that he was willing to agree to marry a stranger? Or did he want to prevent Regulus from being with someone else?
“I’ve wanted you by my side for a year, now. Maybe longer.”
James fidgets with his formal robes now, looking like he might bolt right from his seat.
“My brother didn’t know me a year ago from a post in the ground.”
This statement only makes James more uncomfortable, reaching for his wand and dipping his thumb into a groove so hard his nail turns white.
“Nothing I have learnt has made me like you less. In fact… if anything, I’ve come to care for you a great deal more because of how real you’ve become to me.”
James eyes meet Regulus’ after he says this, and Regulus… is reeling, to say the least. He really thought over the past handful of weeks that James was just grinning and bearing their engagement, but instead-
“So all that about taking lovers-”
It’s almost funny watching James’ deeper skin go ashen.
“I could deny you nothing, once I saw your face. As for my thoughts, I am a well-versed occlumens.”
Mind magic… only the powerful can perform such feats, and Regulus hates that he might fall for all of James’ power and excuses because he’s had a few too many glasses at Sirius and Remus’ revelry, but… if an ounce of it is true-
“Not a single lover in the meantime?”
James shakes his head.
“Not a one.”
“I was with Kingsley for an evening,” Regulus admits, mostly to see the reaction on his betrothed’s face.
James… doesn’t take it well, but he doesn’t shy away from Regulus eyes. He looks a bit jealous, if anything.
“I told him,” Regulus adds, more willing now to put the man out of the misery he created. What was it Remus said a few weeks prior? Choose any lover you dare. “I affirmed I held too high of an opinion of you, and too much affection, to find true comfort in any arms but yours.”
James jumps from his seat to right before Regulus on the floor, tea forgotten and his hands on Regulus’ knees.
“I could make you happier than any man in this castle, and twice as pleased. I will kneel first every time, if it meant I could have you, Regulus. For you say your brother doesn’t know you from anything, but he had the meat of you, all the parts and more that I want to devour now.”
Regulus bites his lip and tentatively joins his hands with James after his tea is put aside.
“All I desire now is you, James.”
The smile he receives is one of the ones that light up the castle.
“Can I kiss you?”
Regulus nods, and then faster than a spell, James does. It does not stay chaste, in fact, they devour one-another, tongues, hands, and a hot evening in the sheets much like the Kings are currently having before either of them event hinks of slowing down. They’re to be married either way, so who bloody cares what they do in the private encasings of his rooms?
It sure makes the coming weeks before their own bonding ceremony a lot easier. James moves immediately and takes up residence in Regulus’ quarters, the Kings giving him a host of shit for it, but Regulus can see the man is walking on air. Hell, he feels like it himself.
And when they do marry, Regulus takes the honor of kneeling first, Sirius at his shoulder casting while tears fall down James’ face.
In aeternum.
What could have been forever under Walburga’s cruelty turns, with those words, forever being supported by the complete opposite. James and he will cherish one-another as long as they both shall live, and that, is a forever that Regulus will happily submit himself to.
Here is part 5 besties. Last we left off, Remus tried to instill some freedom into poor Reg.
1467 words, James Potter/Regulus Black, Sirius Black/Remus Lupin, regency AU, arranged marriage, PART 5
The thing with being escorted everywhere by the man you’re to marry is that, by proximity alone, you get to know him pretty well. Regulus finds new things out about James every day that take him further and further away from the person he met at Walburga’s estate.
James’s smile and his kindness make the castle light up, all the way from the staff and servants to the king himself who is much more reserved, but not around his friends. There’s his wit and proclivity for a jest when the time suits, and sometimes even when it doesn’t. Regulus would like to argue that in those times he doesn’t care for James, but the bastard is quite funny.
Him being more attractive than any other man in court put-together is merely a bonus.
Regulus does slip into Kingsley’s quarters one night.
He lets the general undress him, pull him into bed, and even take him, but the thing is… the thing is… is that Regulus thinks only of what it would feel like with James the whole while. General Shacklebolt isn’t hurt by this, thankfully, though he claims to be a tad jealous when Regulus admits it the next morning. The Duke is Kingsley’s friend, so he only wants what’s best for him in the long run.
Regulus highly doubts that what’s best for James is himself, but if the General is actually his friend, maybe he does know better.
Hope and delusion get Regulus to his brother’s wedding.
It’s a bit odd, being back in Sirius’ orbit. When they were children, Walburga had her hands clutched so tightly on their strings that they hardly touched except when she would scold them for calling one-another brother.
Sirius obviously bloomed under the Potter’s. He knows how to relax, how to sleep, how to look like the world owes him these feats of a higher class.
Regulus struggles with the mundane. He often ends up in the kitchens, bothering the staff, trying to help. Sometimes they even let him. He finds himself falling asleep after Sirius and waking before him, usually beating their servants to tea and retrieving pastries he made the evening before with the cooks.
On his wedding day, however, Sirius doesn’t even fall asleep. He fidgets the whole night, keeps them both up, and waxes nostalgic about the way he and Remus fell in love while making little puppet shows with his wand once it’s time to get ready.
A million people swarm his brother once morning finally descends, notes being passed between the lovers all the while. Regulus tries to keep his jealousy at bay, but as Sirius’ excitement to stand before the crowd outside and be bonded increases, Regulus’ envy does the same. He has no choice but to tamp it down, he’ll be bonding Sirius to Remus, standing for him at his side, James doing the same for Remus. It requires a steady hand, and while he’s confident in his magic, he’s not so confident in his nerves.
Regulus hasn’t stood before so many people in… ever, he’s sure. Half the fucking kingdom is going to be present, ready to welcome their new Kings and see their bond form before their eyes.
It is nice, though, how much the citizens love Remus. Having lived with Walburga up until a few months ago, Regulus thought her unfavorable opinion more common, but instead he lives now with the knowledge that most things Walburga had taught him were wrong.
He fidgets as they approach the castle entrance. Sirius excitedly meets Remus at the doors, so Regulus has no excuse to ignore James while they embrace.
“This will be us in a few weeks,” James tells him lowly, a serene smile on his face.
Regulus has no idea what his face is doing, but the bells of the clock tower chime noon, and they have to present themselves to the wealthy all the way down to the servants outside.
Remus and Sirius join hands, going out first, and Regulus and James follow at their shoulders. The crowd roars, it’s a lovely day for a bonding, then Sirius and Remus turn to face one-another as the crowd quiets.
Never, in his many months in the castle, had Regulus ever heard it so quiet.
To be fair, he’s waiting for the same answer they all are. Who will take their bonds first?
It’s tradition, in the kingdom, for the one lower in rank to kneel first for their bonds, the same way Regulus will kneel for James in a few weeks time. Generally, it denotes that they are the more subservient of the two, will provide the care and compassion while the other will make decisions and act as the front of the family.
A host of other factors can compete, of course, but perhaps their conceptions are why it is such a shock to see Remus, the reigning King, drop to his knees first. Regulus, who had been reaching for his wand, looks up to James and meets his eye, the surprise reflecting back at him. James pulls his own wand tentatively, then he raises a hand to silence the murmuring crowd so he may speak.
“It is here I proclaim on behalf of King Remus that he will forever be bound to the former Duke of Gryffindor, Sirius Potter. It is now that I cast the binds that will forever hold his heart to his chosen one’s. It is in the future that I will remain by their side to remind them of this lifelong commitment. In aeternum,” James finishes, his voice stronger than when he started, Remus and Sirius repeating the words for all to hear as visible magic wraps around them, glittering gold.
Then, in the silence, Sirius helps his husband up and smiles devilishly as he takes his turn, kneeling like he’s not got a care in the world but for this moment.
Regulus finally draws his wand and clears his throat auspiciously.
“It is here I proclaim on behalf of the former Duke of Gryffindor, Sirius that he will forever be bound to the King Remus. It is now that I cast the binds that will forever hold his heart to his chosen one’s. It is in the future that I will remain by their side to remind them of this lifelong commitment. In aeternum.”
In aeternum… forever, Sirius and Remus say once again, and then the public affair is over, the crowds cheering as Remus yanks his husband up to seal the magic with a kiss. The onlookers release sparks in the afternoon light, and the glittering sparkles shower above them as they enter the castle for their semi-private feast, which will then be proceeded by their entirely private wedding night in the King’s quarters, Regulus finally free to sleep alone until his own bonding in just a few weeks time.
Which he’s reminded of every moment as the luncheon goes on. Sirius and Remus take their congratulations at the high table, and then everyone is, for some reason, just as excited for James and he to wed next, telling them of their anticipation.
Regulus can’t help but escape the first chance he gets. The lovebirds will be flitting off to their rooms as supper approaches anyways, so who needs him? He closes his eyes once he reaches the serenity of his own quarters. They’re far enough from the celebration hall that he can finally hear himself think not to mention the raggedness of each of his breaths.
Barely getting a couple feet in, a knock follows Regulus, and he freezes.
“Yes?”
“It’s me,” James says through the door, “I saw you escape, and I wanted to make sure you were alright.”
Of course he does, Regulus thinks. Because James is good like that, and it seems that he always has been. Especially the way Sirius, Remus, and everyone else talk of him.
He lets him in.
What else is he supposed to do?
Regulus heart skips a beat. James looks a bit flushed, but no worse for wear that several straight hours dealing with the public might warrant. He pushes his hair back, and Regulus watches the gesture like a man addicted.
“So… are you alright?”
“Yes,” Regulus answers with a bit of a laugh, “The party was becoming overwhelming and I left for some air.”
“All the way back to Sirius- well, your apartments?”
“I have reached my maximum for levity.”
James grins.
“Me as well, I think. Mind if we relax together?”
Regulus feels his jaw snap in together.
“I’d like that,” his traitorous mouth says before his mind can bring forth the correct answer.
But when his future husband looks at him with glad eyes and an excited smile, who is Regulus but to let him in anyways?
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I’ve had one (1) drink and I’m just imagining after The Prank where Sirius spends his summer getting close to his brother again because the rest of the marauders are stone-walling him, so Regulus finally has his brother back and then, ya know, he leaves for good for the Potter’s because Walburga has finally pushed him that far. Just… Regulus being alone in that house after the most brotherly summer he’s ever had. And then Hogwarts? James and Sirius are closer than ever because oh, right, Sirius has a new brother now.
Songs have to stop inspiring me or I’m gonna have 3k unfinished fic starters.
Part four coming at you fast of my little “regency” AU.
847 words, James Potter/Regulus Black, Sirius Black/Remus Lupin, arranged marriage, court politics, PART 4
Regulus Is trying to get ahold of everything going on as he’s escorted into Sirius’ apartment in the castle. It’s right next to the Duke’s, just doors away from the bloody King’s, and everything seems os turned on it’s side that he collapses into Sirius’ bed without any prompting and falls asleep.
When he’s woken for supper, he finds himself in the formal dining room, dressed in borrowed clothes, himself, Sirius, the Duke of Gryffindor, and the King of Hogwarts all present. There are a few unfamiliar faces, too, but Regulus takes a few guesses.
The older woman with the crown is likely the Queen Regent, her face kind and much like her son’s. No one liked her husband back when he was still alive, in fact, there’s rumors that she herself had decreased his lifespan, but nobody had been able to prove it, and those who tried were charged with treason by the current king.
The others at the table look to be as regal as any of them. Regulus feels intimidated by their hard stares, the easy chatter of everyone besides him, and how his borrowed clothes that were spelled to fit him still don’t feel quite right.
They break after dessert for a less-formal round of drinks, a plethora of elf wine and firewhiskey passed around as they, apparently, celebrate the dissolution of the Black name. A part of him wants to rebel. The voices in his head saying that the Blacks losing their land and their titles is not a good thing. Though, of course, after a few drinks he remembers that it’s not his own voice or even thoughts. No, the way Walburga treated him and Sirius was never right. Not to mention the way she abused the others under her reign.
Still… celebrating her demise feels morbid.
“You don’t have to stay, if you don’t want to,” someone says to his left, and Regulus finds the King joining him on the sofa he’d occupied in the corner.
“I wouldn’t to offend, your Majesty.”
He only grins.
“Call me Remus, please. We’re to be brothers by law and magic, soon.”
Regulus swallows.
“When are you two going to marry?”
Remus grins. This simple question has made him so happy, Regulus has no doubt his brother has found himself a true partner.
“A couple months. We’re going to announce it publicly tomorrow.”
“Congratulations. I hope my brother makes you happy, your Majesty.”
Remus chuckles.
“You don’t want to threaten me to assure his happiness in the matter?”
“I do not have the right.”
“You do. You might not think so, and Walburga may have abused you of the notion, but your freedom is yours now, Regulus. You can leave or enter any room you desire, choose any lover you dare, and call upon the castle elves like they are your own. It is your right as James’ betrothed.”
Feeling his breath hitch, Regulus glances down at his goblet of elf wine and tries to hide the visceral reaction he has to that statement. It’s not like he ever imagined a marriage for himself, but his new freedoms clearly only come with the one caveat and it feels… almost like a dirty trick.
“I would like to retire. Am I still to be staying in Sirius’ rooms?”
“Until we marry, yes. Then they will be yours until your own wedding.”
Regulus goes to stand, and Remus does so with him.
“If you wouldn’t mind an introduction or two, first, then I’ll let you on your way.”
“So much for free will,” Regulus lets slip then flinches.
Luckily, the king only laughs.
“It’s alright. I was patient with your brother when the Potters brought him to me, I can be patient with you as well. You’ll realize you can say things like that as much as you want too. Consider us friends.”
He highly doubts that will ever happen, but he nods nonetheless.
“Who would you like me to meet, your Majesty?”
Remus holds out his arm, and Regulus takes it with trembling fingers.
He meets what feels like half of the King’s court. His royal advisor, Peter Pettigrew and his lovely wife Mary, then Lady Lily Evans who is a profound healer and set to be the Kings’ surrogate in the future to secure Remus and Sirius’ line. After that he meets Pandora and Xenophilius, the Lord and Lady Lovegood, both of whom are quite interesting but strikingly beautiful, as well the Hogwarts general, Kingsley Shacklebolt that Regulus briefly recalls from the manor earlier that day (was it really just this morning Walburga had been taken out of his life?)
He even heavily considers inviting Kingsley back to his rooms then recalls Sirius will be there and wonders how on Earth he’s supposed to foster an affair if either his brother or future husband will be breathing down his neck.
And then the King gestures at James, grabbing his attention and telling him to take him back to Sirius’ rooms. James obliges without complaint, though Regulus wishes he could’ve just walked on his own.
