Heyy I hope you're doing well :) this is not really a request but I was listening to Ziggy Stardust today and if the lyric "but boy, could he play guitar/ making love with his ego..." is not rockstar!Sirius, I don't know what is. Anyway, the vibe made me think of your writing and I hope that it will inspire you<33
hi love!! omg what a huge compliment, i LOVE that song <3 literally the most rockstar!sirius coded thing ever.
this genuinely made me miss writing on here :( i’ve been so busy with uni bc i have placement now ugh.
BUT i did get a request to write a certain regulus fic, so when i’m motivated enough i’ll get to that + some more sirius content 🙏🏼 as i am a proper sirius enthusiast after all <3
reblogging bc the list has been updated a few times as she continues to post. i don’t want to keep bringing attention to her, because she obviously loves it. but i do want to focus on these writers and give them the credit they deserve. so i won’t say much else about her, but i’ll gladly keep updating this list.
hey writer friends, just a warning that there is a blog stealing content and claiming it as their own. i don't recommend anyone indulge or engage with them, but i would recommend blocking/reporting them and checking their other posts in case yours have been stolen too.
my post from october last year vs the post they made 3hours ago.
Hiiii! I hope your doing well! I saw that your requests where open and I was hoping if your okay with it if I could send in a request that’s regulus black x emo reader?
yes of course!! just pop it in my asks so i can have a look <3 it already sounds like something up my alley 🤞🏼
summary: (1.3k) you and regulus spend christmas eve together in flat, putting up the last of the decorations, and exchanging a sweet early gift <3
a/n: sorry for the long wait, i’ve been busy with uni and honestly have been losing a bit of motivation. luckily, writing about domestic regulus brought it back, i love him sm 🙂↕️
and of course, merry christmas to those celebrating! consider this my gift to you 🖤 🎄
(no cw: just some fluff, and french regulus)
It was the morning of Christmas Eve, curled up into the only warmth your body truly knew: Regulus.
His arm was stretched across your waist from behind, heavy and certain, as though he alone were responsible for keeping you warm from the snow smoothing itself gently over the green grass outside. He held you in that way all night, unmoving—a calm, protective cocoon you barely noticed anymore because it felt so natural.
When your alarm went off, as insistent as ever, you shifted slightly, careful not to jostle him. And yet, you never pulled away. Not once.
“I have to fix up the Christmas tree.” You mumbled in half-sleepiness, eyes barely focusing on the soft flutter of snowflakes slipping past the narrow opening in the curtains.
Regulus responded immediately, burying his face into your neck with a quiet huff, pressing a soft chaste kiss to your skin. Then another, slower this time, savouring a moment with you that he had no intention of rushing.
“Bonjour à toi aussi, mon amour,” he murmured against you, the rasp of his voice deepened by sleep. Good morning to you too, my love.
You smiled, drowsy and fond, and perhaps a tad sheepish for starting the day with thoughts of chores instead of him. Turning slowly in his arms, you faced him and pressed a gentle kiss to his nose.
“Sorry,” you murmured. “Meant to say good morning, my handsome, lovely, adoring prince. Better?”
As sweetly mocking as you were, the sight of Regulus only melted you further—the slight curve of his lips combined with his eye roll, just when the light slipped through the blinds.
A soft glow cast over his aristocratic features, and he blinked gently, eyes still heavy, hair slightly mussed that just made him look younger, softer. More like your Regulus.
For a moment, neither of you moved. Then Regulus sighed quietly, both resigned and fond, and finally loosened his hold on you just enough, for the day to begin.
⋆⁺₊❅⋆ ⁺₊❆⋆
By the time you were both up, the flat felt warm and unmistakably lived-in, the kettle humming softly in the background. A Christmas tree stood proudly in the corner near the neat bookshelves that Regulus had obviously sorted himself. It was half elegant, and half utterly unhinged, the tree.
Regulus stood at the base of it, both hands steadying the stool you were perched on and watching you, like a single glance away would make you fall.
You were stringing the most obnoxious festive lights he had ever laid eyes on. Bright red and green bulbs with candy cane ornaments that dangled far too freely, and cheerful icy snowmen that were wedged between branches like they belonged there.
As charming as they looked to you, it was a silent catastrophe to him.
“These lights are…” Regulus paused, squinting slightly as if stepping into uncharted territory. “Très agressives.” Very aggressive.
You laughed softly back, humming to yourself as you made no move to take them off. “But they’re festive!”
“Festive, oui. But festive for me? Non. They hurt my eyes, ma douce.” My sweet.
“Well,” you replied dryly, but also fondly, hands on your hips like a proud decorator, “you seem very in the Christmas spirit.”
You reached up again to fix a stubborn strand, and instantly felt his hand slide to your elbow, steadying you before guiding you back down from the stool, like it was instinct.
“Careful,” he said softly, and you were met with his steely grey eyes again, full of care and subtle concern. He gently tucked a stand of your hair behind your ear, revelling in the way the lights gave a gleam to your face—all angelic.
You smiled, and then turned to look at the tree, all while Regulus preferred to keep his eyes on you.
“It’s perfect.” You declared, seeing the decorated Christmas tree.
“C'est un crime visuel.” He said back. It’s a visual crime. But then he cupped your chin softly to guide you back to him. “And not nearly as perfect as you.”
He pressed a soft kiss to you then, slow and gentle, as evening crept closer around the flat.
⋆⁺₊❅⋆ ⁺₊❆⋆
By then, the food had been sorted, the flat cleaned, and the tree still offensively bright—much to your delight, and Regulus's quiet inability to ever say no to you.
You sat together on the sofa, legs tucked close and tangled in each other, the room lit only by the glow of the tree and the city lights beyond the window.
Regulus shifted slightly, voice calm as always. “Since it’s Christmas Eve,” he said, reaching beside him, “I thought maybe we could do one gift tonight.”
“Oh?” You smiled softly, tilting your head at him with an amused brow raised. “Already had this planned, I assume?”
“Of course I have,” he replied easily. Planning had always been his strength. “And you go first.”
You opened your mouth to argue, wanting to give his gift first, but the look he gave you was unmovable. This mattered to him. So you accepted the gift he placed into your hands, gently unwrapping it.
Inside was a necklace, simple at first glance—a fine silver chain that was cool to your touch, with a beautiful star-shaped pendant. It had been carefully enchanted and warm to the touch, etched with powerful spellwork that only someone like Regulus could conjure.
“It’s a protection spell.” He said quietly. “So that you are always safe.” He watched your face softly, a warmth to his tone. “So that you never feel…seule.” Alone.
You pouted, heart squeezing how thought it was, how Regulus read you so well. You were always clingy, always in need of him—and even at times when he wasn’t there, he always found a way to stay with you.
Your eyes stung, looking up at him with parted lips. “Reg…” You were speechless after that, doing the only other thing you knew best.
You leaned in, cupped the side of his jaw and kissed him, slow and grateful. Regulus returned it with devotion, cradling your face with reverence—soaking in every bit of your affection, even if he rarely showed how much it affected him.
“Thank you.” You breathed into his lips, and he could only nod once, thumb grazing the apple of your cheek.
“Tout pour toi.” Anything for you.
And then, it was your turn to hand a gift.
Regulus only let go of your face to handle it carefully, methodical, like it might disappear if he rushed it. When the wrapping finally fell away, his breath left him all at once.
The Picture of Dorian Gray.
Bound in beautiful printed cloth, and stitched with gold lettering. When he opened it, his eyes skimmed the margins, recognising your handwriting immediately.
You had written in it, his favourite book—one that now had little notes, thoughts and comments, meant only for him.
His breath caught, still staring. “You annotated it.”
“So you’re not reading it alone either.” You said back softly, like piecing together how both of you ensured the other was never left alone.
His grip slightly tightened around the book, eyes finally dragging back to you. His shoulders trembled just once, barely noticeable to anyone, but real to you.
“You are…incredible.” He murmured in the softest of awes. “Je t’aime.” I love you. “More than I know how to say.”
You grinned wide this time, leaning in to kiss his cheek, cupping it once more.
“I love you more.” You said it quietly, full of such genuineness, before a soft tease left you. “Look at you, all sentimental.”
“C’est Noël,” he replied dryly. It’s Christmas. Then he leaned in, resting his forehead against yours. “Let me.”
The tree lights blinked beside you, ridiculous and bright—and outside, the eve went on as usual.
But here inside, Regulus held you close, utterly content, and for once, completely at ease—knowing that you loved him, as much as he loved you.
summary: (1.3k) you and regulus spend christmas eve together in flat, putting up the last of the decorations, and exchanging a sweet early gift <3
a/n: sorry for the long wait, i’ve been busy with uni and honestly have been losing a bit of motivation. luckily, writing about domestic regulus brought it back, i love him sm 🙂↕️
and of course, merry christmas to those celebrating! consider this my gift to you 🖤 🎄
(no cw: just some fluff, and french regulus)
It was the morning of Christmas Eve, curled up into the only warmth your body truly knew: Regulus.
His arm was stretched across your waist from behind, heavy and certain, as though he alone were responsible for keeping you warm from the snow smoothing itself gently over the green grass outside. He held you in that way all night, unmoving—a calm, protective cocoon you barely noticed anymore because it felt so natural.
When your alarm went off, as insistent as ever, you shifted slightly, careful not to jostle him. And yet, you never pulled away. Not once.
“I have to fix up the Christmas tree.” You mumbled in half-sleepiness, eyes barely focusing on the soft flutter of snowflakes slipping past the narrow opening in the curtains.
Regulus responded immediately, burying his face into your neck with a quiet huff, pressing a soft chaste kiss to your skin. Then another, slower this time, savouring a moment with you that he had no intention of rushing.
“Bonjour à toi aussi, mon amour,” he murmured against you, the rasp of his voice deepened by sleep. Good morning to you too, my love.
You smiled, drowsy and fond, and perhaps a tad sheepish for starting the day with thoughts of chores instead of him. Turning slowly in his arms, you faced him and pressed a gentle kiss to his nose.
“Sorry,” you murmured. “Meant to say good morning, my handsome, lovely, adoring prince. Better?”
As sweetly mocking as you were, the sight of Regulus only melted you further—the slight curve of his lips combined with his eye roll, just when the light slipped through the blinds.
A soft glow cast over his aristocratic features, and he blinked gently, eyes still heavy, hair slightly mussed that just made him look younger, softer. More like your Regulus.
For a moment, neither of you moved. Then Regulus sighed quietly, both resigned and fond, and finally loosened his hold on you just enough, for the day to begin.
⋆⁺₊❅⋆ ⁺₊❆⋆
By the time you were both up, the flat felt warm and unmistakably lived-in, the kettle humming softly in the background. A Christmas tree stood proudly in the corner near the neat bookshelves that Regulus had obviously sorted himself. It was half elegant, and half utterly unhinged, the tree.
Regulus stood at the base of it, both hands steadying the stool you were perched on and watching you, like a single glance away would make you fall.
You were stringing the most obnoxious festive lights he had ever laid eyes on. Bright red and green bulbs with candy cane ornaments that dangled far too freely, and cheerful icy snowmen that were wedged between branches like they belonged there.
As charming as they looked to you, it was a silent catastrophe to him.
“These lights are…” Regulus paused, squinting slightly as if stepping into uncharted territory. “Très agressives.” Very aggressive.
You laughed softly back, humming to yourself as you made no move to take them off. “But they’re festive!”
“Festive, oui. But festive for me? Non. They hurt my eyes, ma douce.” My sweet.
“Well,” you replied dryly, but also fondly, hands on your hips like a proud decorator, “you seem very in the Christmas spirit.”
You reached up again to fix a stubborn strand, and instantly felt his hand slide to your elbow, steadying you before guiding you back down from the stool, like it was instinct.
“Careful,” he said softly, and you were met with his steely grey eyes again, full of care and subtle concern. He gently tucked a stand of your hair behind your ear, revelling in the way the lights gave a gleam to your face—all angelic.
You smiled, and then turned to look at the tree, all while Regulus preferred to keep his eyes on you.
“It’s perfect.” You declared, seeing the decorated Christmas tree.
“C'est un crime visuel.” He said back. It’s a visual crime. But then he cupped your chin softly to guide you back to him. “And not nearly as perfect as you.”
He pressed a soft kiss to you then, slow and gentle, as evening crept closer around the flat.
⋆⁺₊❅⋆ ⁺₊❆⋆
By then, the food had been sorted, the flat cleaned, and the tree still offensively bright—much to your delight, and Regulus's quiet inability to ever say no to you.
You sat together on the sofa, legs tucked close and tangled in each other, the room lit only by the glow of the tree and the city lights beyond the window.
Regulus shifted slightly, voice calm as always. “Since it’s Christmas Eve,” he said, reaching beside him, “I thought maybe we could do one gift tonight.”
“Oh?” You smiled softly, tilting your head at him with an amused brow raised. “Already had this planned, I assume?”
“Of course I have,” he replied easily. Planning had always been his strength. “And you go first.”
You opened your mouth to argue, wanting to give his gift first, but the look he gave you was unmovable. This mattered to him. So you accepted the gift he placed into your hands, gently unwrapping it.
Inside was a necklace, simple at first glance—a fine silver chain with a beautiful star-shaped pendant. It had been carefully enchanted and warm to the touch, etched with powerful spellwork that only someone like Regulus could conjure.
“It’s a protection spell.” He said quietly. “So that you are always safe.” He watched your face softly, a warmth to his tone. “So that you never feel…seule.” Alone.
You pouted, heart squeezing how thought it was, how Regulus read you so well. You were always clingy, always in need of him—and even at times when he wasn’t there, he always found a way to stay with you.
Your eyes stung, looking up at him with parted lips. “Reg…” You were speechless after that, doing the only other thing you knew best.
You leaned in, cupped the side of his jaw and kissed him, slow and grateful. Regulus returned it with devotion, cradling your face with reverence—soaking in every bit of your affection, even if he rarely showed how much it affected him.
“Thank you.” You breathed into his lips, and he could only nod once, thumb grazing the apple of your cheek.
“Tout pour toi.” Anything for you.
And then, it was your turn to hand a gift.
Regulus only let go of your face to handle it carefully, methodical, like it might disappear if he rushed it. When the wrapping finally fell away, his breath left him all at once.
The Picture of Dorian Gray.
Bound in beautiful printed cloth, and stitched with gold lettering. When he opened it, his eyes skimmed the margins, recognising your handwriting immediately.
You had written in it, his favourite book—one that now had little notes, thoughts and comments, meant only for him.
His breath caught, still staring. “You annotated it.”
“So you’re not reading it alone either.” You said back softly, like piecing together how both of you ensured the other was never left alone.
His grip slightly tightened around the book, eyes finally dragging back to you. His shoulders trembled just once, barely noticeable to anyone, but real to you.
“You are…incredible.” He murmured in the softest of awes. “Je t’aime.” I love you. “More than I know how to say.”
You grinned wide this time, leaning in to kiss his cheek, cupping it once more.
“I love you more.” You said it quietly, full of such genuineness, before a soft tease left you. “Look at you, all sentimental.”
“C’est Noël,” he replied dryly. It’s Christmas. Then he leaned in, resting his forehead against yours. “Let me.”
The tree lights blinked beside you, ridiculous and bright—and outside, the eve went on as usual.
But here inside, Regulus held you close, utterly content, and for once, completely at ease—knowing that you loved him, as much as he loved you.
Plsplspls write more gentle sirius fluff I love the nightmare fic sm its so cute and sweet and perfect😭😭💗💗 plsss write more thanku ily
ah of course love! i’m so glad u enjoyed reading that. i ac ADORE gentle sirius but i’m just never sure what prompts to write about. so here i wrote a drabble of sick reader and sirius taking care of them 🖤 i’m open for any other requests! <3 (also yes im obsessed with sirius calling reader “sweet thing”, or “sweet girl” bc it’s just so UGH <3)
—
tea stains & tangled sheets
| sirius black x fem!reader
no cw, just fluff/comfort <3 (1k words)
it wasn’t very enjoyable to have snot dribbling down your nose as you laid in bed, sweat seeping through the sheets that made you feel heavy with ache. worse was the thought of burdening someone else with your cold, which was why you tucked yourself away in silence, sirius none the wiser.
your head throbbed with every sniffle, staring glassy-eyed at the crumpled tissues scattered around you like a fallen army. the almost-empty tissue box on the bedside table blurred your vision, and you let yourself half-imagine it as some beacon of light to drift towards as the fever tugged you down.
the door burst open with sirius, who strolled in grinning like he had a secret he wouldn’t wait to tell you. “oi love—you just missed me and james charming the armour stand to stalk filch! bloody brilliant it nearly—”
he stopped, catching a glimpse of your pinkened nose and your swollen half-shut eyes. his voice faltered, his grin fading. “blimey, sweetheart,” he muttered with his tone cracking between disbelief and concern.
“you look like you just battled death himself—and lost.”
you wanted to scowl, but all that came out was a nasally, “hey…”
“meant that in the most romantic way possible.” he tried to salvage it with a smirk, but the joke thinned quickly when you couldn’t bring yourself to roll your eyes like you usually did. you loved doing that, never entertaining his antics—but today was different, and he noticed. sirius always noticed.
he gave a little frown, perching on the edge of the bed, eyes scanning you before the back of his hand found your forehead. his palm was cool and careful, the heat rising off of you. “oh angel, you’re burning up. why didn’t you say anything, hm?” he asked softly, brows tented in concern.
“just didn’t want you fussing,” you rasped softly, throat raw and scratchy.
sirius gave a small snort, short and disbelieving. “not fuss? baby, fussing over you is practically my bloody hobby. don’t you dare rob me of it.” he leaned down to kiss your too-warm forehead, lips lingering there for a bit before he pulled back.
“let me take care of you, yeah? stay put.” his smile appeared again, looking at you with a love-stricken gaze.
you sighed before coughing into the sheets, to which sirius flinched at out of sympathy. “as if i have a choice.” you managed with your rough voice.
that earned sirius’ full grin back, sharp and boyish. “there she is,” he murmured, brushing his knuckles against yours, before he gave your hand a small squeeze.
“i’ll be back before you can whinge again, promise.” he vaulted off the bed, vanishing with breakneck speed.
it was only a few minutes later—though the fever made time slippery—that the door creaked again. sirius stumbled in, juggling cups and trays like some deranged jester, beaming.
“ta-da. the healer has arrived.” he plopped everything with a flourish on your bedside table.
“right, one cup of earl grey—don’t ask me why but apparently it’s good for you. fresh tissues, since your last army fell in battle. a pick-me-up potion nicked from slughorn’s cupboard—don’t tell him—and…”
his voice lowered and his smile softened, struck with adoration, “treacle tart. couldn’t leave you without dessert, could i?”
you blinked at him, incredibly touched, and baffled all at once. you didn’t even have to ask him, he just knew what you needed. “where did you even get all—how do you know about earl grey—”
he pressed a finger to your lips, shushing you in mock gravity as he flopped on the bed beside you. “trade secret. also, remus. he swears by citrus, so we’re calling this tea, citrus. don’t argue.”
you cracked a smile, lips twitching before you reached out for his hand. sirius caught it instantly, his grip warm and steady, before he pressed a kiss to each knuckle with worship.
“thank you.” you whispered so softly, wanting to say more, but sirius already shook his head.
“i’d do anything to make you better, angel. yeah? if i can’t take it away, the least i can do is be here for you.” his voice was soft, his hands tucking the covers close around you with such gentleness.
“so? which one first? tart, tea, or me—your most handsome medicine?” he gave a small grin, encouraging you to crack a smile as he brushed your damp hair off your forehead.
you gave him an unimpressed look, or tried to. “you’re ridiculous.”
“i think you mean devastatingly charming.” he corrected, which only made you groan into the pillow.
you turned your head slightly to give a slight pout, something that basically said you couldn’t handle his antics anymore.
“alright, alright.” he mumbled, warmth curling in his chest at the sight of your bottom lip protruding. he gently cut a slice of tart with exaggerated care, forking a piece to bring to your lips.
“here, sweet girl.” his voice was so tender that it formed a lump in your throat, eyes already watery.
he only used that tone around you, just for you—which only made you more fond for him. you couldn’t help but obey, shuffling up slightly and leaning forward to take a bite.
sirius beamed softly, watching you eat like it was heaven he was seeing. the tart was sweet, comforting, and you closed your eyes in bliss, chewing. when you opened them, sirius was still watching with the type of awe he’d never admit.
“what?” you whispered, and sirius’ lips curved up, hopelessly gone for you.
“you make even looking half-dead, just so unfairly beautiful.”
heat crept onto your cheeks that had nothing to do with the fever, before a scratchy laugh left you. sirius had grinned back, until that laugh turned into a cough and he rubbed soft circles into your back. he scooted closer out of silent protection, arm curled around your waist.
“you’re mad.” you finally muttered, though you leaned into him for comfort immediately.
“madly in love, yeah.” he shot back, nose nuzzling yours, ignoring your feeble attempts at turning away.
“you’re supposed to keep your distance, i’ll get you sick.” you mumbled, but sirius didn’t budge.
“good,” he murmured and pressed a soft kiss to your nose, then to each of your warmed cheeks, and then lastly, to your forehead. “just means you’ll have to fuss over me for once. and i’ll get to stay right here, with you.”
you wanted to argue, but couldn’t when he pulled you closer in a silent plea, tucking your head under his chin. with his steady heartbeat near your ear, you melted against him, letting the fever blur everything but your sirius.
i genuinely love sickfics that understand what being sick actually feels like—like yes, it’s gross and heavy and makes time weird, and this fic captures that so well. the way it opens with “snot dribbling down your nose” and tissues described as a fallen army? yep. real. no notes.
but what made me so soft was sirius. the way he just knows something’s off, how his first instinct is to fuss—but in that tender, competent way, not the overbearing kind. the “fussing over you is practically my bloody hobby” line?? melted me.
also the moment he brings the treacle tart like it’s the final piece of a care package puzzle?? ugh. obsessed. and i love how it balances affection with humour—“which one first? tart, tea, or me—your most handsome medicine?” is peak sirius.
ahhh thank you so much chantelle! i was actually sick when i wrote that and craved someone like sirius to save me </3 sometimes being ill is messy and that’s always okay to portray 🖤
thank you for the tag @puddlesoffrogs and @suprclark (you guys chose so many good ones oml need em)
˗ˏˋ𐔌 clark kent I superman + adrian chase I peacemaker + bucky barnes I marvel + rocco gauthier I riff raff + robert robertson I dispatch + logan howlett I xmen ꒱ˎˊ˗
honerable mentions: sonar, dick grayson, jason todd, steve harrington, shawn spencer, & peter parker
