MINORS DNI. YOU MAY READ MY WORKS BUT PLEASE DO NOT INTERACT WITH ME.
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about me: (updated)
hi! names madalyn and i like to write when i have time. im in my second year of uni (english major with a concentration in writing) and im 19, living in the US. i really enjoy videogames– favs rn are the resident evil franchise, hogwarts legacy, dark and darker, and vampyr. i also love music. i spend pretty much all of my free time doing something creative, and if not then im playing a videogame.
about my blog:
i really only write fanfiction– hardly ever will i write something that involves an oc, unless its a self-insert fic. even then, i try to make it very ambiguous because not everyone reading is going to be the same. i’ll definitely take any requests for fics as long as it is within my rules/outline! the only issue is that, like i said, i am a college student and im extremely busy. i will update as much as i can, but i cannot promise anything.
Synopsis: Your boyfriend came back from a mission needier than ever!
tags: Leon (RE6) x Fem!reader, established relationship, Leon being an emotional and needy mess, oral sex (f! receiving), spooning, doggy style, a little angst, unprotected sex, overstimulation, rough sex, creampie and more!
Leon felt overwhelmed, dizzy. Since he'd returned from his mission in China, facing death on more than one occasion, and fighting nuclear monsters once again was simply exhausting. He was exhausted. Everything was like stirring up his darkest nightmares.
The first few days he spent in bed and had urges to drink again. But he'd made a promise. He'd made you a promise.
And even though there was a constant fog in his head, the only thing that relaxed him was you. Your hands rinsing his hair, massaging his tense shoulders, and kissing the scars that had marked a long path on his skin were the only things that relaxed him. You were what kept him grounded.
There were nights when he cried, when he clung to you and buried himself in your arms, hoping to avoid nightmares. Nights when insomnia kept him from sleeping a wink, and nights when he simply fucked you like a wild animal. Like a dog that only knew how to sink its teeth into the most precious thing it had.
That possessive feeling of losing you, like everything else, clouded his mind and only drove him to ruin you for anyone else. Just like the whole day today, driven by selfishness and the need to have been away.
He'd start the morning by eating your pussy like a thirsty man. Then you'd both have breakfast together, and minutes later he'd fuck you against the bathroom mirror after trying to follow your routine for the day.
"Let's take a shower together, honey." he suggested, then put his fingers back in your pussy, preparing you once again for his hardness pounding against your thigh. Not even the water could calm him down
.By mid-afternoon, after having fucked you on the couch and the table, his hands and mind were still restless. An overwhelming need clouded his judgment, seeking solace in the way your walls squeezed him like he belonged there.
He took a nap with his cock inside you simply to be as close to you as possible. When your eyes opened from his slow kisses on your ear and neck, you let out another plaintive moan, relaxing in his arms for what was to come. Again.
He started by fucking you slowly for the fourth time that day, holding you from behind as he let out small, husky moans in your ear. He held you tight, keeping you against his chest as he thrust his cock between your folds, sensitive from all the previous assaults.
"God, baby—damn, I couldn't die without fucking this pussy again." He murmured, kissing your sweat-damp cheek before he began to increase his pace. His hand kept your thigh raised to give him better access to his little slice of paradise.
Your moans muffled against the pillows as you felt his fingers release your thigh to begin stroking your clit again, making small, quick circles that made your eyes roll back, sucking his length deeper.
His kisses turned into bites, like a wild dog growling against your skin as he continued to pound his aching dick into your hole. His hair plastered to his forehead, his brows furrowed, and heavy pants fell from his lips. If he was going to die, he wanted it like this. Inside you, where he belongs.
From this position, he couldn't fuck you the way he wanted, so he rose above your trembling form to push your face into the pillows, without leaving your tight pussy. He felt like he was going to faint if he moved away from you for even a second.
"Like that, like that, doll... I-I wanted to fuck you soo bad—" He grunted, starting his frantic, wild rhythm again. Your ass was already red from the incessant grinding of his hips against you. "I missed this pretty pussy so much. It's all mine—Ah, ah." Even in the heat of the moment, his cheeks were flushed, and he was definitely going to be embarrassed by his words later. He is kind of shy, after all.
His right hand remained on the back of your neck, holding you still, and his free hand held your hips up to continue relentlessly thrusting his wet cock inside you. You felt every vein and the perfect curve of his penis piercing you nonstop for...well, you lost count.
"It hurts so good, I can't stop hone'—" He groaned hoarsely, burying his face in your hair to inhale sharply. Now his hands held your hips, guiding you back to meet his thrusts. "I...I don't know if I can ever cum again, damn it." He growled, practically drooling all over you. You barely understood what he was saying, your brains fried as an orgasm shook you hard.
You let out a small sob, clutching your fingers in the sheets as Leon continued to fuck you like an animal. Only now his gasps had turned into moans, real moans. So broken and raw that your exhausted pussy kept squeezing his dick.
"I'm cumming baby, I'm cumming—" He announced, and you're sure even your neighbors were aware of Leon's ferocious orgasm. His head fell back, his jaw slack, his broad chest dripping with sweat, the veins standing out on his arms as he felt his cock jerk and release only thick ropes of cum. His balls were already empty, he was sure.
He fell on top of you, pushing you off the bed as he breathed heavily and continued to rock his hips very slowly, trying to push his cum deeper and deeper.
"God, baby. I-I thought I'd never see you again..." He whispered breathlessly, his sincerity so raw it made your chest ache. "I love you, I'm sorry—You're so pretty, I...I can't." He moaned deliriously as you felt warm drops fall on your neck. Oh, he was crying now, and his hips kept trying to thrust into you again.
It was... just Leon. So raw and so vulnerable, all for you. No masks, no defense mechanisms. Just him and you.
Oh, this one was even more intense!! Leon RE6 is a mess, he just needs...love ૮₍˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ₎ა
You can find more on my profile! Likes and comments are always welcome ᡣ𐭩
oh i have the best idea in mind for all u leon gooners.
came to mind after i saw a tweet that was like "why ru guys so upset about pantera going on tour again. that just means u have a chance to swing on an off duty cop in a pit."
... and im titling it "fuck the law"
i think you know where its going
it is in the drafts rn. i am revising so LOOK OUT LEON GOONERS
Summary: Leon Kennedy has never been fond of his money, he just never found a good reason to spend it properly, not certainly with hoe dull and empty his life felt, that is, until you came along, not only fixing his life purposes but his bank account as well.
Or basically, how Leon Kennedy started to grow fond of his big fat paycheck and his life in general thanks to you.
Contents: fluff, domestic bliss I guess….? Leon having a lot of money.
An: I wrote this imagining reader being a few years younger than Leon, maybe her being around 30+ while he is like 40? But however you like works, also, I thought this was kind of a drabble, but I guess it counts more as a one shot.
3,155 words
For a long time, Leon didn’t really care about the money.
At least not in the way normal people did, paying rent on time, investing in retirement, buying a decent pair of shoes that weren’t ruined by dirt or rain in European forests.
When he got “promoted”. Rookie cop turned into DSO golden boy, the numbers in his bank account jumped every year. Hazard pay. Overtime. Bonuses the size of someone’s mortgage.
He didn’t spend it.
Not really.
Sure, he did have obvious expenses, bullets, boots, bikes, bikes, yes, the Ducati in his garage, that one he did love, a testament to a fleeting impulse, a need for speed and control on open roads that felt like freedom. The cheap apartment he rented that he never called home, because home was just a launchpad for the next mission. Sometimes, he bought a better suit, something to make the meetings with the President feel slightly less like a farce.
But real spending? On himself? For himself?
Nah.
He told himself it didn’t matter. It felt absurd. The money was a monument to a future he was certain would never come.
He’d finish the mission. Cash the check. And what?
Buy another bike he’d probably total on a backroad? A bottle he’d forget he drank?
Sometimes, back then, he really didn’t see the point of making it to the next payday.
——
You didn’t fix him overnight. youd actually smack him if he ever said that out loud.
But you did show up.
Spain first. Then the cold archives rooms of the BSAA for whenever he needed data. Then the occasional classified overlap, “need an extra sniper, y/n? Send Kennedy. He won’t talk.”
It was always separate missions. Separate beds. Separate debriefs.
Until it wasn’t.
It started stupidly, as all important things in Leon’s life do.
You two had just come back from a mission you surprisingly had together in Virginia. Something about a small-time black market trader hawking G-virus samples like antique jewelry. you two spent three days underground, three more above, and by the time you guys staggered back to DC, you both looked like hell.
You ended up at his place, cause his fridge, unlike yours, actually had beer.
You sat at his cheap kitchen table, leg propped on another chair, taping up a sprained ankle. Leon leaned against the counter, still wearing his gun harness, scanning an unopened letter from his bank.
You caught him frowning at it. “Bad news?”
He shrugged. “Not really. Just my paycheck.”
You blinked. “You look like someone told you your cat died.”
Leon smirked. “If I had a cat, it would have run away by now.”
You snatched the envelope out of his hand, tore it open without asking.
Scanned the digits.
Whistled low. “Holy shit, Kennedy.”
He shrugged again, uncomfortable, defensive, and trying very hard to act nonchalant. “Hazard pay.”
you rolled your eyes. “Hazard pay?! This is retire-and-buy-a-lake-house money.”
Leon snorted. “What would I do with a lake house?”
you just smiled
“Maybe one day you’ll figure it out.”
——
His first “big” investment after he started dating you was actually small, grand stupidly small.
He was on a solo job in Chicago. Rain, again. He ducked into a shop while the city flooded around him. On the counter was a display case of simple watches, nothing fancy. Just clean, practical, a little sturdy.
The clerk asked, “Looking for something for your wife?”
Leon almost laughed. He mumbled, “Girlfriend,” before he could think about it too hard.
It was the first time he’d ever called you that out loud, even if nobody would hear him say it again for months.
The thing between you guys wasn’t complicated, you two just didn’t have the head and energy to give it a label, if he did thing about it though, you were his girlfriend.
He picked one with a slim leather strap, dark, elegant, exactly the kind of thing you’d mock him for fussing over.
When he got back to DC, he found you half-asleep on his couch, your laptop balanced on your stomach.
He slipped the watch on your wrist while you pretended not to wake up.
You teased him for it the next morning.
“Look at you, big spender.”
But you wore it every damn day.
——
The next thing leon bought wasn’t for you, it was for him. Well, technically, for the both of you.
He found an apartment. Bigger. Nicer. A top-floor unit with actual windows that let in light. The kind of place that had space, not just for a bed and a half-dead houseplant, but with enough space for two people. There was room for your books and his record collection, for a kitchen table where you could actually eat a meal together.
Leon picked it out while you were halfway across Europe on a cleanup mission with the BSAA.
He tried to brush it off telling you it was practical, something useful for the both of you.
He presented it to you as a tactical decision. "Better security. Closer to the DSO hangar. Central location."
You didn't buy it for a second, your eyes scanning the open plan living room, the modern kitchen, the view of the city skyline, and the walk-in closet he'd already half filled with your things. You saw the bathroom with two sinks. And you didn’t argue, smiling happily and nodding to his words.
——
Okay, well, then, the Ducati was just for him, because he so deserved it.
That’s what Leon kept repeating to himself.
When the paperwork for the penthouse cleared, you pressed your mouth to his ear and murmured: “Don’t you think you’ve earned a toy?”
Well what a funny thing to say, uh? You just loved getting stuff inside his head, and, well, yeah, his actual one was slightly used and old, and what can a man do other than listen to his woman, right?
So he did what Leon S. Kennedy does best: found the meanest, sleekest bike on the market, handed over his card without blinking.
He swore he’d be careful.
you swore you’d never ride on it.
Both were lies, but good ones.
——
Now, as much as you loved the fact that Leon had actually gotten that bike for himself, you weren’t entirely a big fan of being in it.
The Ducati was a point of contention. You hated it. More specifically, you hated getting on the back of it, clinging to Leon as he took corners at a speed you considered “a blatant disregard for mortality.”
Did you think he looked absolutely hot and breathtaking while driving it by himself? Of course you did! Doesn’t mean you want to die tomorrow tho.
You’d been joking. Really. Just a throwaway line one night in bed, your hair in his face, your voice muffled into his chest: “I should get something fast. A real car. So you can stop bribing me onto that deathtrap Ducati.”
So he decided to solve the problem.
Two weeks later, he tossed you the keys.
It was sleek, gleaming, and so new it practically sparkled under the DC streetlights.
The plates already registered.
The insurance under his name.
You stared at him in the underground garage, hands on your hips, mouth open.
“You’re kidding.”
He just grinned, the same grin that got him out of trouble with half the world’s worst people. “You hate my bike. This is safer.”
“Leon, this is a Porsche”
He leaned in, dropped his mouth to your ear, and murmured “Drive it. Don’t worry about the gas. Just don’t scratch it, Kay?.”
A Porsche, and man, did you loved it.
Sometimes, when you’re both feeling like having a little more fun than usual, to go somewhere, you take the Porsche. He rides the Ducati. During this times, he’ll glance over at you at a red light, you hair pinned back, sunglasses on, utterly in your element behind the wheel, and he’ll give you a nod.
You’ll just smirk back and hit the accelerator the second the light turns green, leaving him behind to catch up.
Yeah, he’d think, twisting the throttle. Good money.
——
He’ll never admit it to anyone’s face, but these days, Leon doesn’t hate his paycheck anymore.
It’s not just hazard pay. It’s not blood hush. It’s not a leash.
At first, during the beginning of his big expenses, you’d feel somehow guilty, you’d know him from before, when he wouldn’t spend a single coin in “useless” stuff, which for Leon, usually meant anything that wasn’t a gun cleaning kit, you’d tease him about it, about him not letting you pay, about him getting you tuns of things.
“What am I, Kennedy? Your sugar baby?”
He’ll always grin, the real grin, the crooked grin he saves for you alone.
“No, sweetheart. You’re my retirement plan.”
The money didn’t buy the quiet moments tho, the ones that make him feel like he could be normal someday.
It didn’t buy the mornings where you curled into his side, warm under a cheap blanket, mumbling about his alarm clock being “a government conspiracy”.
It didn’t buy the nights you sat together on that big stupid couch, feet up, watching the sun sink behind houses and buildings across the city.
But the money did make it easier to keep those moments. To come home to them. To make a home worth coming back to.
warnings: smut/porn without plot, unprotected sex, vaginal sex, fingering, nipple licking, soft!dom leon, reader has a slight praise kink, swearing
word count: 606
ao3 link
l1vingdeth's masterlist
“that’s it,” leon grunted, squeezing the curve of your hip. “fuck—feels so fuckin' good—oh god,”
you sat on leon's lap as he fucked you roughly. he trailed his free hand down the dip of your lower back, running his calloused fingertips across your soft, heavenly skin for a moment before grabbing your other hip. he lifted your hips up and began snapping his cock even further into your pussy, so desperate and needy to hear you moan for him. your tits—god, leon couldn’t peel his eyes away from your tits— bobbed up and down with each thrust.
your pussy involuntarily clenched around his cock—he could’ve sworn he was seeing stars —and you dug your face into the crook of his neck. his back was torn to shreds with your claw marks. his. all his. leon shuddered as he felt your teeth clamping onto his shoulder. he had to stop for a moment or else he would’ve cummed. he would’ve cummed inside you and he would’ve been so, so fucked.
a whimper slipped from your lips as he paused. “leon, please,” you breathed, digging your nails into his back again.
he choked back a possessive groan. “can’t cum yet,” he murmured in your ear, lips soft against your skin. “need to make you cum first,”
with that, in a swift motion, he had flipped you onto your back, pushing you into the bed. his fingers found their way to your clit, drawing slow, sensual circles. you bit your wrist in an effort to keep quiet, but leon simply yanked your wrist back, holding your hands above you with his free hand.
he hummed. “wanna hear you, baby,”
your voice caught further in your throat. the guttural moan that forcibly left your mouth made leon want to slam his hips back into your wet, warm pussy. but god, was he too close to cumming. he bit his lip as he watched you writhe underneath his touch.
leon continued to thumb at your clit, although somehow his mouth had found its way to your nipples. he clamped down, sucking them and tonguing at the sensitive skin. the sounds you were now making were so lewd, so graphic, and they filled the tiny bedroom, bouncing off the walls like your tits had been bouncing a few minutes ago.
“leon—” you gasped. your eyes snapped shut. “leon, stop—gonna cum,”
too bad you couldn’t see the smirk smeared across his face as he straightened his body. he snapped his hips back into yours with a new profound sense of urgency. his fingers shone in the dim light with your slick.
“cum for me, baby,” he growled, just barely holding back himself as he slammed into that spot that had you screaming his name. your walls quickly tightened around him and he could feel his own cock twitching with need.
your orgasm hit you harder than a bag of cinderblocks. all you could see were stars and blackness, your ears ringing. “tha’s my good girl,” leon hummed, biting back a grunt.
your warm cunt pulsated around his dick and he couldn’t take it anymore. with a final buck of his hips—and an intoxicating moan only heard in the dirtiest porn videos— leon came, hard, coating your pussy walls with hot, stringy loads of seed.
leon collapsed on top of you, his dick still hard inside of you. you were both absolutely spent. he placed a warm kiss on the exposed skin of your jaw. “did a good job f’me,” he breathed into your ear.
“tired,” was all you could manage. you felt him grin against your skin.
...
A/N: LOL hi guys. i have been extremely bored with nothing to do. so do enjoy this. i have another leon oneshot in mind but i haven't started it yet.
synopsis: at hogwarts, a sixth-year student is relentlessly tormented by sirius black, who hides his true feelings behind cruel pranks. sirius secretly sketches the one person he can't bring himself to love properly.
pairings: sirius black x self-insert (mild james potter x lily evans)
tags: slowburn, marauders era, enemies to lovers, bullying, angst with happy ending, insecurity and self image, reader-insert (gender-neutral as possible)
warnings: swearing, bullying, personal thoughts (may be uncomfortable)
word count: 5,767
AO3 link
l1vingdeth's masterlist
It all began with a hexed quill that year. You’d been furiously scribbling notes in Professor McGonagall’s class, fully aware of the mountain of homework she was due to assign that night. It was already enough, let alone the masses of homework given from the other professors. Ever since your sixth year at Hogwarts had begun, you’d been quite booked, to say the least. Each direction you leapt had yet another task asked of you. It felt never-ending, and it was only the first week of September. You’d failed to realise just how demanding this school year was going to be – and you were determined to not let him ruin it.
That was until your quill jerked from your hand and began writing on its own. The few attempts you made to snatch it back were thrown off by the quill itself– it’d move at the very last nanosecond, missing your grasp by a hair. Your cheeks burned. It kept drawing, indifferent to your endeavours. You gave up after a few tries– they only fuelled the thing to draw faster.
You stared blankly down at the parchment as it finished up its drawing and fell to the desk with a soft thud. It was of a crude caricature– you, sat at the Gryffindor table in the Great Hall, mouth wide– oh, and of course, completed with exaggerated cheekfuls of food and crossed eyes. Your eyes stung with tears, threatening to spill onto the wooden desk. Lily Evans, your best friend, took notice of the drawing before anybody else did. There was a slight frown playing at her lips as she took the scroll and ripped off the bottom portion, crumpling it up and shoving it into the pocket of her bookbag. A snort had come from two rows behind, and Lily craned her neck backwards, shooting the boy a nasty look.
“Ignore it,” she whispered as she turned back to you. “He’s just childish. Please don’t let it bother you.”
Your voice caught in your throat, forbidding you from forming words. Your lip quivered, and you blinked the tears away. Glancing backwards was unnecessary to know just who the culprit was. Sirius Black. He always sat a few rows behind you; over the years you’d come to the conclusion that it was for moments like this. He seemed to enjoy tormenting you. He wasn’t exactly your “arch nemesis”– it wasn’t outwardly established– but you were almost certain that he hated your guts. Well, why else would he torment you for all these years?
Behind you, James Potter looked across the aisle and gave Sirius a mildly disapproving look, though mostly performative, before shaking his head and going back to his textbook. He’d known what Sirius was up to– he’d told James about it ten minutes before class had started. James warned him that it probably wasn’t the best idea, but Sirius didn’t listen. He never listened. Not many people took his antics seriously anyway. He was a known prankster and mischief-maker. Why bother worrying about someone who was just that predictable? But… Sirius Black: charming, extremely clever, and loved by most in spite of himself.
But… you always wondered why it always seemed to be you on the receiving end of his mischievous behaviour. Of course, naturally, he was a prick to just about anyone he could be one to– but his most commonly occurring victim was you. Whether it was slipping magical ink into your shampoo to make your hair turn some wild colour– how on Earth he’d managed that one was completely beyond you– parchment that folded itself into a foul poem, hexed quills, tipping off Peeves to throw mysterious goo on you right before class, your school uniform magically going missing for the weekend and then turning up on Monday torn to shreds– which had caused you to have to wear muggle clothes for a day– successfully having ten points taken from Gryffindor. It was relentless. Once, he even managed to turn your entire potion kit into absolute useless rubbish, earning you a zero for that day. Another time, he’d switched out all of your textbooks for ones in Gobbledegook.
You weren’t even sure how he managed to pull off such pranks without ever being expelled. The most he was given was a week’s worth of detention– if anything. Somehow– somehow– he was able to keep it under the rug most of the time. Or… maybe, just maybe, they couldn’t be arsed with Sirius’ behaviour anymore. And by the grace of God, Sirius Black was simultaneously untouchable and unbearable. You tried to ignore it– to ignore him. You tried to tell yourself that it didn’t matter. Sirius was just an arrogant, spoilt, spiteful prick. He was a trouble-making prat who got on by his charming demeanour and good looks. Unfortunately though, you knew deep down that it wasn’t the truth. Not the whole truth, at least.
Sometimes you’d catch him watching you. Not in the loud and flirty way like he would with the popular ones. He didn’t undress you with his eyes, lusting over you like you were merely a piece of meat. No, no, no. It was quiet, like he was learning a new spell– observant, it was. It was as if he was trying to penetrate your mind, trying to pick through your thoughts. There was something odd about you; something different. The thing that seemed to make you so different was what he couldn’t place a finger on. You stood out from your friends, just enough to be noticed if you peered for long enough. You would never know that, though, because each and every time you managed to catch him, he’d glance away indifferently– and far too quickly to read the expression on his face.
Once class had finished, you scrambled to pack your things. You skipped lunch that day. Sirius had been the first one to notice your absence.
Later that evening, Sirius sat underneath an oak tree on the shore of the Black Lake with his sketchbook open on his knee. The summer was quickly coming to an end– it was obvious by the chill of the breeze. Sirius found the breeze to be comforting. It was a pleasurable feeling, a stark contrast to the stuffiness of his dormitory. The pages of his sketchbook fluttered in the gusts of wind, and he steadied them with ink-stained fingers from today’s lesson. The pages entailed a number of little sketches and personal messages. He skimmed through them leisurely. Charcoal smudged onto his palms, effectively making his hands look like they’d dealt with some fierce curse.
There was one thing about Sirius Black that not many people knew: he quite enjoyed solitude. Though he certainly enjoyed being the centre of attention, he also found solace in the spaces that were far from prying eyes. Being underneath that tree gave him a sense of security that no human could ever give him. It was like a warm embrace in the depths of his soul. He couldn’t really explain the feeling. So he didn’t. He just existed there for those brief moments. In the presence of others, and in daylight, Sirius Black was untouchable– sharp-witted, reckless, confident, handsome, and dazzling in the way that made figures of authority sigh and look away. Vulnerability wasn’t something that suited Sirius. When dusk swept over the castle, when he was able to withdraw from the life around him, he allowed himself to want. Wanting was dangerous. He knew that. So he forced himself to turn his desires into doodles instead.
He hadn’t meant to draw today– well, not really. He simply told himself that he was going to get some air. Of course, he never left the castle without his sketchbook. Naturally, he found himself falling into the folds of the warm pages. The events of the day replayed in his mind like a film. Whenever you were in frame, he couldn’t help but frown. Perhaps he’d gone a bit far, he thought as he replayed Professor McGonagall’s class. He studied the way your shoulders slumped down as you realised what was on your parchment. The way your arms jerked as you tried to grab your quill. He’d found it funny then, but now, as he really analysed your reaction… he wasn’t too sure anymore. And of course there was Lily’s reaction. Your best friend. But, he had to admit to himself, it was an excellent spell. He’d definitely be using that one again. Definitely not on you though. He glanced back to the castle for a moment. You were only a few kilometres away, tucked inside the walls of the castle. Sirius picked up the charcoal stick and began making shapes. Nothing in particular.
Nothing in particular.
But, in due time, you were illustrated onto the page of his sketchbook. You were looking downward, brows furrowed and lips parted ever so slightly. You were thinking about something. Probably concentrating. There was a coloured cube in your hand, one that Sirius only knew because of you. It was a Rubik's Cube. The soft curve of your cheek resembled a reflection of the light in the background. He leaned back and sighed, shutting his textbook with more force than he intended.
He hated that– how easily you could spill out of him– like he had no strength to hold you in. And there he was, pushing you away. Being a massive dick to you. He couldn’t stop himself. If he were paid for sabotaging himself, he’d be the richest person on Earth. He found it to be the easiest thing in the world when it came to others– Merlin, he was so cocky you’d think he had one lodged up his arse. But you– God, you… You made Sirius feel something he’d never felt before– perhaps it was anxiety. Or dread. Or hope. Whatever it was, he knew he couldn’t deal with it. So he didn’t. He wrapped it in cruelty and foul sarcasm, hoping that you wouldn’t look close enough to see the sheer panic underneath. Sirius continued to sit there for what seemed like hours, simply mulling in his thoughts.
James made it look as simple as breathing. He loudly stumbled his way into loving Lily. Sure, he’d had his own complications– Lily thought he was a right prat up until a few months ago. What caused her to change her feelings so suddenly? He thought as he rolled a piece of charcoal between his fingers. James hadn’t done a full 180° in his behaviour– at least not that Sirius could see. As he racked his memories, the one event that wouldn’t stop replaying in his mind was the day that Snivellus and his greasy, large-nosed self had called Lily a Mudblood. But, the more he thought about it, the less sense it seemed to be making. How on Earth did Snivellus calling Lily a Mudblood lead to Lily realising her feelings for James? It didn’t make sense. Well… it made a bit of sense… James wasn’t a prick to Lily like Sirius was to you. He didn’t thrive on seeing her with a foul glare smeared across her face. He didn’t hex her quills in the middle of class, hoping that maybe– just maybe– she’d look back at him, even if her lip was curled in disdain. He was persistent, but not in the way that Sirius was persistent in making your days at Hogwarts a preview of Hell.
James relentlessly pined for Lily since the first day he saw her flaming auburn hair and chubby smile. It never worked, of course– but… he never let up. Even when Lily told him time after time to piss off, he didn’t stop. Eventually, and to James’ surprise, his efforts worked. They had begun dating over the summer. Day after day, Sirius was subjected to listening to James babble his head off about Lily. And no less than twice a week was Sirius subjected to being dragged down to the muggle village near James’ home so he could phone Lily. Their love was messy, yes, but it was certainly real. Tangible. Sirius envied it. Jealousy tore through his veins, corroding him from the inside out.
It wasn’t Lily he envied. Merlin, was that the last thing he envied. Lily was a lovely and beautiful girl, but she wasn’t the one that Sirius surveilled. She wasn’t the one he would admire from afar as she bit her lip in frustration, muttering obscenities underneath her breath in the library. No, no, no. It wasn’t that.
It was James’ courage he envied– his ability to love something without tearing it to shreds. It was the way he never seemed to hesitate when he truly wanted something. James didn’t feel the need to hide his emotions. He didn’t bury them, so he didn’t have to hope that someone would get too close and see what was really beneath. James simply leapt. He always took the chance, even when he knew he would fail. Fuck, even when he was inevitably bound to fail, he soared. Failing wouldn’t dare stop James from trying. That’s what Sirius envied. James was so unlike him, he began to wonder how they were even friends.
Sirius never leapt. He never soared. He couldn’t. His wings were broken, somehow. Instead, he lingered. He hid. He withdrew. He buried deep what he knew he couldn’t afford to lose. You happened to be one of those things. He couldn’t afford to lose you, even if you were just an acquaintance. He’s thought about telling you before; in the late nights when he couldn’t sleep, his mind wandered. Oftentimes it wandered to you. God, it was so easy. Thinking about you was like breathing to him. It came naturally. He didn’t even have to think about it. It was autonomous. There were nights when he would imagine the conversation, and it often ended with you laughing in his face. He would pull you off into a private corner of the castle, the warm beams of sun shining down onto the two of you.
“I need to talk to you.” His statement comes out as a question. He fidgets with the ring on his pointer finger.
“About what?” You ask, crossing your legs. You can sense Sirius is nervous.
He lifts his head up, not making eye contact. He stays quiet for a moment as he chews on the skin of his lip. “Uh, well,” he begins, glancing around the corridor. “I just wanted to say that I think you’re really pretty. I know that I’m a massive prick to you and all– but, er- I think you’re pretty, and I’ve thought about us a lot– and I think I have feelings for you… Er– you don’t– have to say anything. I just wanted to tell you,”
You blink. That’s the last thing you’re expecting to hear from Sirius Black. If he means to say that he, Sirius Orion Black, has feelings for you, the one he’s tormented since his very first day at Hogwarts, then he must be ill. He must have some kind of brain malfunction. A smirk plays at your lips, and before you can stop yourself, you’re laughing. Just the mere idea of Sirius Black having feelings for you was enough to make you cry tears of laughter.
He cringed as the thought floated across his mind for a moment. No. It was certainly better to tease and harass you. He was much better off goading you into rolling your eyes or huffing out of exasperation. He was better off if you muttered some clever insult underneath your breath out of retaliation. If you wanted to tear him to shreds, that was fine. If you wanted to curse his hair off so he was forced to live the rest of his life being hairless, that was fine. He’d survive it. He was quite confident he’d survive it. But… if you ever dared to look him in the eye and say, “I don’t love you” – he was sure that would ruin him. He would no longer be whole.
So, instead, he teased you. Pranked you. Tormented you. And when that didn’t suffice enough for his liking, he took to drawing you inside of the warm safety and quiet solitude of the castle, when the moonlight poured through the stone windows and lit up the room just enough. You were safest in ink.
The next few weeks had passed by leisurely. It was growing closer and closer to November. Sirius would be turning seventeen, arguably the most important age for a witch or wizard. It meant that he would be of age. He would be able to freely use magic and apparate. He wasn’t entirely sure how he felt about it. It was a tradition to be gifted a family heirloom for your coming-of-age birthday. Sirius no longer had a family. He had been disowned over the summer. The Potters took him in, no questions asked, yet that didn’t stop him from feeling like he had no one. Sure, James was his best mate in the entire world. But just the mere thought of having been disowned—?
Sirius wasn’t exactly looking forward to the celebration that was planned. It was normal to have a large party thrown on your birthday in the common room. He’d had a “surprise” party thrown on his birthday every year. Of course, they never really were a complete surprise. He’d inevitably find out one way or another, usually by overhearing gossiping groups of girls, giggling and whispering as he walked by. Besides the booze, his favourite aspect of the parties was that he was the centre of attention– and for once, not in a negative light.
… He wasn’t entirely sure about it that year. What was all that attention to him if it wasn’t yours? You didn’t usually come to parties– let alone his– though if you did, you never stayed for longer than an hour. He wasn’t entirely sure he could handle it that year. He hated to imagine how he would feel if he scanned around the room and didn’t see you shoved into a corner with a glass of booze in your hand. He hated to imagine what he would do if he did see you. He was sure he’d venture over to you and do something quite regrettable– God, he’d probably ruin the moment with his loud mouth before his actions even got a chance to.
You were coming back from dinner still smelling slightly of burnt ink. It was Sirius’ most recent prank on you. It was delightfully infuriating how precisely he had planned for it. He’d managed to nick your inkpots from your bookbag, presumably in the library the previous evening. You spotted him with a painfully conniving grin plastered across his face, sitting only a few tables away from you with nothing but his wand and a single book lying on the table. It was late– and especially dark inside the castle. It wasn’t until half an hour later that you spotted Sirius leaving the library with an extra jolt in his step. Nothing out of the ordinary.
Nothing out of the ordinary. Right…? Extremely wrong. He’d apparently bewitched your inkpots to explode with pink glitter every few times you dipped your quill inside of them. It was only mildly infuriating, as the bursts were small and silent– sporadic, too. It wasn’t nearly enough to disrupt class. Besides, you weren’t going to let him have the satisfaction of knowing that he had gotten to you. By the end of the day, you looked like a unicorn had barfed all over you. Nearly all of your fellow schoolmates had chuckled at you at least once as you passed by in the corridor on your way back to the common room.
Marlene couldn’t help but let out a chuckle as you strolled past her. You threw yourself onto a couch a few metres away from her. She happened to be the most similar to Sirius in the sense of interests, and regardless, she usually took your side in situations like that. You knew she couldn’t really stand how Sirius behaved– most of the time, anyway. Had it really been that funny?
“Shut it, Marlene,” you muttered, although there wasn’t any real bite to your statement. You pulled out a thick book on defensive magical theory and slammed it onto your lap.
Across the room, Sirius began twiddling his wand between his fingers. James and Peter were spread onto another couch, absorbed into their own things. Remus was stuffed into the corner between the three of them, writing madly on a piece of parchment. Sirius glanced over to you casually with a faint glint in his eye and a smirk, the kind that expressed the fact that he knew. He knew he’d gotten to you. Again.
He always did. You knew it. And it infuriated you.
“Groovy look,” he called out lazily. “What, you lose a bet? Or are you finally admitting to your inner diva?”
“That’s funny coming from somebody who lays his eyeliner on thicker than he is,” you snapped back, your gaze unyielding to the bulky book in your lap.
Your friends snorted. James looked up from his game of Exploding Snap with a grin on his face. Even Remus looked up with a faint smirk tugging at his lips. Sirius paused, his face frozen with an unreadable emotion. He liked that– the way you snapped back without a second thought. Stubbornness was often obstructive. Yours wasn’t. It made his skin crawl in all of the ways he liked. He studied the way your jaw clenched as you sat there, the way your shoulders curled slightly inwards, and the way your eyes were seemingly stuck to the page with a permanent sticking charm, mirroring the way the glitter seemed to be stuck to you with a permanent sticking charm. He knew he went too far. There was a thick red line he’d drawn in his brain. He frequently liked testing his limits, pushing a toe over the line every now and then.
“Ouch! That one hurt, Bogie Face,” he teased, his voice growing quieter.
That was it. That did it for you. It felt as though someone had suddenly blasted the heat with the way it rose in your neck. Glancing at him, you slammed your book shut, jumping to your feet with haste. Marlene flinched at the sound, not having heard Sirius’ remark. He knew how much you despised that bloody nickname. He’d dubbed you as such over an incident that happened well over three years prior. It was merely a way for him to get even further under your skin, yet that didn’t stop the blow it dealt whenever you suffered with having to hear the name.
“Piss off, Black,” you snapped, marching for the girls’ dormitories.
You couldn’t see the way his grin spread, nor the way his eyes followed you up the entire staircase. He shouldn’t have said that. But he couldn’t think of any other effective ways to grab your attention. Merlin only knew he wasn’t capable of having a regular conversation with you alone. In his mind, it was either tormenting you or dealing with the fact that he couldn’t speak to you. Surely he’d never admit it aloud, but Sirius would rather fall ill than never see your face again. God, he would never admit that aloud. Perhaps that was why he found himself drawing you more times than not.
Drawing you became like flying a broom; it was second nature to him. Staring at you when he knew you weren’t paying attention became his favourite hobby. God, that sounded creepy. Perverted, almost. He felt like an imbecile, but it was the only true way he could be close to you. He replayed your exit over and over again, shoving his wand into the pocket of his robes.
Suddenly, James cleared his throat. He didn’t speak until Sirius looked at him. “Don’t you think it was a bit far, Sirius?”
Sirius paused again, sucking his bottom lip and shutting his hand into a fist, bouncing it against the arm of the chair. He thought about answering but then obliged, as it was painfully obvious. He had gone too far, and he knew it. He shrugged, glancing over at the stairs once more.
“Come on,” James lowered his voice, pushing his glasses up.
Sirius finally spoke after what felt like ages. “No. It was funny,” he muttered, not meeting James’ eyes. “You’re just saying that ‘cos they're Lily’s mate,” he added quietly.
“Wow. Right then, mate,” James scoffed, returning to his game of Exploding Snap.
Sirius’ attention moved to Lily and Mary as they climbed the stairs two steps at a time. They had been too quick for Sirius to catch their expressions, but he was sure it had to do with you. He felt a sudden twinge of guilt creeping up on him. His body tensed up, and he moved to sit straight, fists still tightly shut. Remus finally looked up again, eyeing Sirius from the corner. Remus had never seen him in such a strained state. It was more than strange. Sirius was typically cooler than a cucumber, never shedding a worry over anything. At least that was what Remus saw, and he was particularly observant. Remus decided it wasn’t best to say anything in the common room, so he shoved his quill back into his inkpot and began working on his charms essay once again. The other Gryffindor students continued about their evening as if Sirius had done nothing at all.
Meanwhile, you slid down against the wall, tears streaming down your cheeks. They pierced your skin, dazzling in the golden sunlight that was pouring through the windows. Your glitter-stained skin shone throughout the room. It was humiliating to watch the small speckles of light dancing around the room. The more your body shook, the faster they danced. It seemed as though they were taunting you.
There was a soft yet persistent knock at the door. You tried to ignore it, but in a few moments the door was being pushed open. You saw the gleaming red hair of Lily Evans and the dark brown hair of Mary MacDonald glowing in the evening sun as they walked into the room. Silently, they sat on either side of you. You cried. You shook. You broke down like a cardboard box. You felt like a child, crying over a tosser like Sirius. Lily stared down at you, rubbing off some of the glitter while Mary held your hand softly.
“Why does he hate me so much?” Your question was sudden– Mary and Lily shared a glance of uncertainty.
Lily’s green eyes flickered from yours to Mary’s. She sat there frozen. Genuine pity was smeared across her soft features. Another emotion lay passively in her eyes– helplessness, perhaps.
Mary turned her head to you. “I don’t think he hates you, love,” she said softly. “He’s a bloody idiot, that’s for sure. But, I don’t see how anyone could hate you,” her voice swayed slightly, but you knew she wasn’t lying.“
That’s not an excuse, though,” you whined, and Lily placed her hand on yours. "He's a bully."
“No, it’s not an excuse,” Lily whispered, glancing at Mary.
“It’s not right what he does. He’s a little arsehole,” Mary said.
There was a silence after she spoke. The common room was pretty noisy for the time. Students bustling about, yelling and being rambunctious. The wind blew gently against the castle’s walls. You felt much better in the presence of your friends.
Lily spoke after a beat. “Like Mary said, I’m just not convinced that hatred is the reason behind this. Can’t be… Yeah, Sirius is an arse, but he’s got no reason to hate you, does he?”
Her question lingered for a moment until Mary spoke up. “Honestly, he seems a bit scared of you.”
You snapped your head towards her. “Me? You think I scare Sirius Black?”
Both of them nodded. “You’re the only person who snaps back at him. Everyone else just sort of deals with his shite… You, not so much. You’re stubborn enough that he can’t see you’ve gotten to him, but you’re confident enough to tell him to cut the shite. I think he finds that terrifying,” Mary said firmly.
You shook your head. “I don’t snap back at him that much.”
Lily nodded. “You told him to ‘piss off’ ten minutes ago, didn’t you? I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone else dare to tell Sirius to piss off.”
You finally grinned. “Yeah… He’d curse their arses off, literally.”
The three of you chuckled. Your laughter resonated throughout the room. You wiped the final tear off of your cheek.
“There’s more to Sirius than he lets on,” Lily added abruptly. “James told me a wee bit about him, you know.” You briefly met her eyes.
“Like what?” Lily reached up, grabbing a strand of your hair and twirling it around her fingers.
“I don’t think that I should be the one to tell you everything. Sirius has a pretty rough home life. It’s not an excuse at all, but I feel sorry for the lad.”
You looked over at Mary for a hint, but her shrug told you that she hadn’t a clue either. “What are you saying, Lils?”
“I’m saying that you should talk to James about this. He can tell you everything you need to know about Sirius Black. After he told me, I can kind of understand why Sirius behaves the way he does.” She looked to you and then to Mary. “I wouldn’t say that he hates you.”
You nodded. “Okay.”
You went quiet for a moment, racking the thoughts swirling in your head. If Sirius really did have a rough life at home, then why was he so compelled to act like such a prat? You knew you shouldn’t compare experiences, but you had a pretty rough life at home too. Of course, Sirius wasn’t raised by two muggles. It was indeed different, but how was it different enough to cause such a difference in your behaviours? You wouldn’t dare bully someone if you didn’t like them. You would simply ignore them, like any sensible person. So if Sirius really did hate you, then why didn’t he just leave you alone? Why didn’t he just tell you to piss off and leave it at that? Why did he make it a personal goal to make your life a living hell?
You paused. Something pieced together in your mind.
“Well, this might sound a little – far-fetched – but, you know how boys will sort of bully you when they fancy you?”
As soon as the words fell from your lips, you gasped. You knew just how stupid it sounded. “No, just forget that I said that. Sirius Black, fancying me. That’s deranged, is wha—”
Mary cut you off. “I don’t think it’s deranged. Sirius is an absolute prick. Wouldn’t put it past him to bully a girl he fancies.”
Lily looked over to Mary. “You know what, Mary? I wouldn’t put it past him either. Yer onto something.”
“Err– I hate to burst that bubble, but I don’t think he does. There’s no way. Have you seen the people he’s gone off and snogged before? They’re all…” You trailed off, waving a hand in the air.
“They’re all what, exactly?” Mary demanded, crossing her arms.
You shrugged. “Y'know,” you muttered, smoothing out a wrinkle on your skirt.
“No, actually. I don’t know.” She glared down at you angrily, like she knew what you were going to say.
You rolled your eyes, sighing deeply. You hated saying it aloud. Somehow, it made it seem much more like reality and less like a twisted image burnt into your brain. “They’re all thin, Mary! Look at me!” You cried, shoving a finger into your stomach.
You were never thin, and God did you wish you were. No matter how many flights of stairs you walked up daily, and no matter how little you ate, you found it hard to lose your stubborn fat. It was almost always the first thing that came to someone’s mind when they were looking to insult you. The memory of the drawing Sirius had bewitched your quill to sketch had come flooding back into your mind like a broken levee. You felt the tears stinging your eyes once again, and that’s when Lily grabbed your arm, effectively bringing your attention back to life.
Lily’s grip on your arm was tight, but not painful. “Excuse me, but in case yer forgetting, I’m not thin either. And you remind me constantly of how amazing you think I am. So, stand up please.”
She suddenly stood you up onto your feet, along with Mary’s extra hand, and spun you over to the record player near your four-poster. You couldn’t help the feeble yet quite real grin that was spreading across your face. Lily let go of your hand and quickly popped on one of your favourite vinyls: Led Zeppelin IV. As the loud rock music began vibrating the room, she took your hand again. The three of you began dancing along to the grooves of Rock and Roll.
It's been a long time since I rock and rolled
It's been a long time since I did the stroll
Ooh, let me get it back, let me get it back
Let me get it back, baby, where I come from
It's been a long time, been a long time
Been a long lonely, lonely, lonely, lonely, lonely time
Yes, it has
It's been a long time since the Book of Love
I can't count the tears of a life with no love
Carry me back, carry me back
Carry me back, baby, where I come from
Whoa, whoa, oh
It's been a long time, been a long time
Been a long lonely, lonely, lonely, lonely, lonely time
Oh, seems so long since we walked in the moonlight
Making vows that just can't work right
Oh yeah, open your arms, opens your arms
Open your arms, baby, let my love come running in
Yeah!
It's been a long time, been a long time
Been a long lonely, lonely, lonely, lonely, lonely time
Yeah, yeah
Yeah, yeah
Ooh yeah, ooh yeah
Ooh yeah, ooh yeah
It's been a long time, been a long time
Been a long lonely, lonely, lonely, lonely, lonely time
A/N: AHHHHH chapter one DONE! idk how i got this done so fast (im procrastinating on all the work i have for school.) i hope you guys like it :) chapter two coming (hopefully) soon.,, p.s. above is a playlist i made of general music the characters listen to :p
A/N: since there's not really a whole lot of canon stuff for the marauders, i'll be using mskingbean89's all the young dudes as (somewhat) of a guideline for how these characters are- just some minor tweaks. as much as i love wolfstar, this fic obviously does not include that. but remus is still queer, his whole childhood backstory stuff happens, sirius is into muggle music, etc. if you have NOT read all the young dudes before, i highly recommend it.
hello all to see this i am back and im writing a sirius black fic. i was gonna do sirius x remus because what the hell but then i was like nah lets do an x reader, so... yes. im working on chapter one rn and i have the entire story fleshed out in my notes. chapter one is almost done, i am just revising and then i will post, and i will prob post it on ao3 also. but i am also a college student, so these wont be updated very frequently.. >:( i just want to get SOMETHIGN out because i have not posted any of my writing in a long time ok bye
