dreamyysouls

[dreamyysouls]

the one where some bloke kisses your boyfriend

poly!moonwater x fem!reader who wakes up from anesthesia [1.3k words]

a/n: I've been craving hospital fics lately and also haven't written for moonwater in so long so.... voila! 🤭

CW: hospitals, reference to IV line, reader is discombobulated, fluff

Your body feels cold on the inside, as if there’s ice water being pumped through your veins leaving your skin hot but your blood running cold. You wonder if that should concern you, but you can’t seem to find it in you, what with the rhythmic beeping coming from some machine to the side of your bed. 

You were just beginning to grow accustomed to the feeling of your chest rising and falling under the thin blankets when the door to your room opens.

“Oh-” a curly headed bloke murmurs, all but tossing the various snacks he’d been carrying on a few uncomfortable looking chairs to free his hands before coming to stand beside your bed. He’s handsome; sweet looking, with black ringlets that are desperate to be long enough to tuck behind his ears but aren’t quite, dark and perfectly arched eyebrows drawn together in the middle on your behalf as his grey eyes scan your face. “Have you been awake long?”

You weren’t aware you’d ever been asleep, but your attention is drawn instead to the way his hand gently encircles your own, careful of an IV line expertly taped on the back of your hand. 

“I’m not sure.” You offer; the words rough and grating, ripping through your throat before they force their way out of your sandpaper mouth. His brows twitch closer together sympathetically as a tsking sound escapes him. 

“I’m so sorry, my love; we wanted to be here when you woke up.” 

He uncaps a bottle of water he seems to have procured out of thin air and brings it to your lips, and you find that you can’t really bring yourself to question the intimacy of the moment when your mouth feels so dry. His hold on the back of your head is reverent, laying it gently back down on the pillow when you finish drinking. 

“How’re you feeling?” He asks, setting the water bottle down on a rolling tray table beside your bed and perching on the edge; your hand officially being held hostage between his two delicate ones. 

“I feel…weird.” You admit warily; it doesn’t seem too concerning to the bloke, though, who merely nods at you as if that was expected.

“You’ll feel better soon, amour. Everything went really well.” 

You get the sense this is meant to be reassuring, but the rhythmic beeping that was coming from your side is starting to be more cause for anxiety than its former relaxation. You’re embarrassed when you flinch as the bloke moves to wipe some baby hairs away from your forehead; you’re mortified that he notices. 

“Are you alright?”

“Are we- why are you here?” You blurt, too thrown by the apparent intimacy that the two of you share – or, that he seems to think the two of you share, at the very least – to carefully consider your words. 

“I’ve been here the whole time, Y/N. We only left to get some snacks for when you woke up.” 

You don’t have time to get caught up on the we of that sentence, almost scrutinizing him when he readjusts the blankets around you as a shiver shakes your frame. 

And then you spot a beaded bracelet on his wrist.

“Reg.” You narrate; the familiar feeling of the name on your lips filling in a few more blanks. “You’re Regulus.”

Regulus’ shoulders fall in semi-relief, though he seems rather crest-fallen to learn that you feel rather disoriented. 

“You’re having a hard time remembering me, aren’t you?” He concludes, smiling sadly at you when you nod your head in the affirmative. “I’m sorry, amour; that must’ve been kind of scary.”

“Not too scary; you seemed nice enough.” You placate, surprised when this elicits a sharp, surprised laugh from him. You get the feeling such blatant and spontaneous displays of emotion don’t happen often for him. 

“Well that’s good; I’m very glad.”

The two of you fall into a comfortable albeit shy silence; the beeping coming from your side returning to a more relaxed cadence as you watch Regulus’ thumb brush soothing strokes just above the tape on your hand that you’ve only just decided is really very itchy. 

“Do you have any other questions?” He asks gently, bending ever so slightly in an attempt to meet your eyes. 

“Are we…together?”

He smiles as if he knew that was going to be your question, but his cheeks gain a dusting of pink regardless. 

“Yes, we’re together.”

You fight the urge to fidget with the threadbare blanket. “You’re my boyfriend?” 

He nods with a smile, bringing your hand up to his lips to press a kiss to it. You’ve never wanted to rip something off of yourself more than you wanted to pull at the IV, catheter and veins be damned. “And you’re my girlfriend.” 

You let out a breath of relief, feeling yourself settle further into the bed now that your present company doesn’t leave you with so many questions. 

Your eyes begin to grow heavy, and you’re only just realizing that the soothing strokes of Regulus’ fingers are not entirely innocent as your body melts further and further into the hospital bed until the door opens again to expose another, taller bloke with bottles of water and fizzy drinks in his arms. 

“I didn’t know what kind you’d want so I got a few options; I’m sure one of these will appeal to Y/N when she wakes up.” He explains, his gaze pointed at the beverage haul as he clumsily sets them down on a chair next to the one holding the snacks.

He moves towards the bed to press a lingering kiss to the crown of Regulus’ head – an affectionate arm wrapping itself around Regulus’ smaller frame as he pulls him into his side – before he realizes that you’re awake.

That you’re awake, and all but glaring at him. 

There’s a vague part of you somewhere deep in your psyche that tells you this is no cause for concern, but you’re pretty sure other blokes aren’t meant to be kissing your boyfriend. 

“Hi, sweetheart. How long have you been up?”

You feel your brows furrow further, and Regulus answers on your behalf. 

“Not too long, I don’t think. She may have just woken up before I got back.” 

The taller man hums as he affectionately squeezes your hand sitting atop Regulus’; the beeping beside you performing another crescendo as your eyes flit between the two boys. 

“Remus is your boyfriend too, amour.” Regulus placates with a teasing smile. “You’re alright.” 

“What?” Remus asks; his brows mirroring yours as he looks between the two of you warily. 

“I just had to explain to her that I’m her boyfriend and then you came barging in and kissed me.” Regulus explained dryly, though it’s clear that he enjoys pretending to be chiding. 

Remus laughs, reaching blindly behind him to pull a chair towards the edge of your bed, never letting go of your hand in the process. “I’m sorry, dovey; I didn’t mean to confuse you.” 

You feel like you might simultaneously shrink and bloom under the weight of his honeyed eyes and the somewhat familiar moniker falling from his lips; your blinks growing heavier once again as you fall into a content, comfortable silence save the rhythmic beeping beside you. 

You find that you don’t want to close your eyes, though; you have gold and silver ones to admire.

As if reading your mind, Remus brings your hand to his lips to press a kiss to your knuckles in almost the exact same place Regulus had moments before. “We’ll be here when you wake up, dove. Go back to sleep.”

It seems a shame to waste your time looking at the back of your eyelids instead of the two boys in front of you, but the beeping seems to slow and lulls you further into sleep’s welcoming embrace; intricate lines of morse code telling you that you have nothing to worry about, you can stare at them later.

[dreamyysouls]

i drew paul atreides ! based on a 3d render by Nazar Noschenko i believe . anyways this only got like 20 likes on insta and im trying to get the hang of tumblr. here yall go :))

[dreamyysouls]

only a minute

paul has been tied up with his work for god knows how long. you think it’s time he gets the break he needs.

paul atreides x fem!reader

word count: 1.5k

cw: suggestive; read at your own discretion, heavy make-out session, hickeys, reader is a flirt, paul is yearning, use of petnames, established relationship, reader is described to be wearing a dress

paul atreides was a busy man. with the duties of a duke on his young shoulders, it was hard to find any time for a respite. the workload seemed endless, the meetings were uncountable, and the lack of sleep was obvious on paul’s ever-aching brain.

there was also the lack of you.

paul despised being apart from you for long periods of time. when he would come to bed, sometimes at ungodly hours of the night, he was too exhausted to do anything but hold you until he fell asleep. he was grateful for you in that you were always there, waiting for him, no matter what.

an irritated huff escaped the duke’s lips as his eyes traveled to the door, almost willing for a distraction, anything, to take him out of this torture. he knew he looked a mess right now. his dark hair was irregularly askew from him constantly moving his fingers through it, his coat discarded long ago and his sleeves rolled up. he tapped his pen incessantly on his forehead, a restless fidget he had developed over time.

paul let his eyes find the document on the table below him, his brows furrowing. he did not have the mental capacity to even process what was on the paper. he was debating in his head if he should just toss the remaining papers from his desk and call it a day, but that was no way for a duke to go about work. he needed to get this done.

“a ton of bullshit,” paul murmured to himself as he picked up the paper, his eyes merely scanning the words across it. he was fighting the urge to shred the paper into the tiniest pieces he could when he heard a knock. he was going to ignore it, but a second knock sounded, and he only knew one person who could be on the other side of that door.

you let yourself in, impatience and something equivalent to excitement getting to you. paul’s eyes relaxed at the sight of you, a smile pushing at the corners of his lips.

“hey, love,” he greeted you, his gaze trailing down your form for a moment. he felt his breath catch at the sight of your attire, a long silk gown you knew he loved.

“hi, paul,” you replied with a smile, your movements graceful as you made your way over to him. paul’s eyes were trained to you as you moved, feeling a familiar ease as you got closer to him. you placed yourself behind him, your hands finding his shoulders as you looked down at the papers before him.

“what are you working on?” you hummed, leaning to his ear and letting your eyes rest on his face. paul’s heart fluttered as he felt your breath fanning over his next, your body heat tantalizingly close.

“the usual. meaningless documents i shouldn’t even be reading,” he replied to you, his eyes flicking back up to yours—and gods, you were close—for a moment and then back down to the messy desk. he scanned over the papers, trying desperately to ignore your looming presence beside him. he could feel your gaze, your eyes soft on his weary form. your head tilted after a few moments, and a quiet sigh escaped your lips.

“hm. well, you could always take a break. you’ve been at it for a while,” you suggested, your hands carefully moving over his shoulders in a soothing manner. paul nearly shivered, forcing down the urge to turn and let himself fall into you. he resisted, keeping his eyes on the papers and forcing his voice to be straight.

“you’re clever, darling. not clever enough for me, though,” he scoffed, trying to pay you no mind, even though everything in him was telling him to do the opposite. he huffed out a breath, his tone getting a little softer as he glanced at you. “i have to finish this.”

you sighed again, not happy with his response. he always got like this, so carried away that he wouldn’t allow for anything. luckily for you, you knew a way around it.

“i haven’t seen you all day, paul. and you do need a break. please?” you whispered in a low tone, your eyes silently pleading him to give in.

if there was one thing paul was, it was being absolutely weak for you. his breath shuddered as he let his eyes move to yours, a familiar thrill rushing through his body. you were still so close, teasingly so, and he would be a fool to not lean in. it’s what he wanted to do anyway. he stared at you for a moment, his gaze flicking down to your lips as he seemed to ponder his choices.

paul didn’t allow for another moment of hesitation, instead tilting his head up and planting his lips onto yours. you hummed against his mouth, your body shifting towards him to better access his face. you tasted so wonderful, and paul couldn’t keep his lips off of you. he took his time with you, his kisses slowly building up speed and intensity.

“missed you,” he sighed out, his breaths heavy. his hand traveled to your face, cupping your cheek and pulling you even closer than you already were. he hadn’t realized how much he’d needed this, needed you, until you were in his hold. paul felt himself melting into your touch, mindless to the warmth that followed in its wake.

you let him pull you closer, absolutely livid on the growing desire and heat within your body. it was like paul could sense the spark, his kisses quickly becoming passionate and hungry. your lips were already feeling kiss-bruised, your breaths labored as paul kept his mouth upon yours. you replied to him with even more urgency, your mouth moving swiftly over his in an entrancing way.

“sweet girl…” he breathed out in between kisses, practically gasping for air while he was still pulled away. he dove back in, one of his hands sliding down to grab your waist. he pushed you into his lap, your bodies pressed against each other in his chair. his tongue moved over your lower lip, almost as if he was requesting entrance. you complied, opening your mouth up to let him inside.

he nearly moaned as his tongue began to move across your mouth, lapping at your own and licking your sweet lips. he was in a haze, heat coursing through him as he felt desire well up in his body.

“i need you,” he uttered, his voice a low murmur against your lips. he began to pepper kisses across your face, moving almost lazily as he trailed down to your jaw and then your neck.

“you have me,” you hummed breathlessly, your hand weaving its way into his dark curls. longing moved in you as his lips parted from yours, leaving you aching for his touch. “‘m yours.”

paul lost it at that.

he groaned as his hands slipped onto the back of your thighs, quickly hoisting your body up onto the desk. papers scattered as you gasped, parting your legs instinctively to let him closer. he slotted himself in between your thighs, his fingers gripping onto them so tightly that you knew they would be bruised. his lips were rapid fire on your neck, kissing and biting at your skin like you might disappear.

you moaned out his name, your fingers digging desperately at his hair as if to ask for more. you could feel him smirk on your skin as his teeth grazed over your neck, red blotches gradually forming as he got more and more aggressive. his fingers dug into your skin, your heart nearly leaping out of your chest as they teased at your inner thighs.

you were thrown into a haze of passion, your eyes clouding over as paul’s lips moved effortlessly over your neck. he was unable to stop, utterly consumed by the constant need he felt for you. one of his hands moved off of your thighs to push you up further, his body now better slotting against yours. the sound of falling objects reverberated through the room as he shoved various items off of the desk, not an ounce of care left in him.

“your work..” you hummed weakly, opening your eyes and letting one hand slide down to his face. you lifted him up back to you, your breath nearly stopping completely as you caught his lidded eyes. a lazy smirk appeared on his face as he shook his head, leaning closer and closer to you.

“mm, don’t care. just want you, baby,” he murmured, so close that he was practically kissing you as he spoke. his hands found the hem of your dress and began to push it up, earning a groan from you as he purposely let his fingers drag over your skin.

his lips found yours once more, and you couldn’t help but think how long of a night you were in for.

a/n: okay what the crap this took me like TWO MONTHS to write because i have been procrastinating and too locked in w school to finish it…but i’m on break now so here we are. i couldn’t help but notice the drought of paul fics so hopefully this quenched your thirst (i’m starving too don’t worry)🤞i haven’t really written anything suggestive before buttt i kinda think i cooked 🙏

anyways i love paul atreides and be on the lookout cause i may or may not be in the process of writing a slowburn w/ a side of angst friends to lovers fic of paul 👀 it may or may not also be a two parter (🙈)

finally, i hope you enjoyed my writing and once again please remember to take care of yourself and stay hydrated. goodbye and i love you all mwah mwah <3333

[dreamyysouls]

guys you’ll never believe this but i posted another fic😱😱😱😱 go read it mwah mwah

[dreamyysouls]

only a minute

paul has been tied up with his work for god knows how long. you think it’s time he gets the break he needs.

paul atreides x fem!reader

word count: 1.5k

cw: suggestive; read at your own discretion, heavy make-out session, hickeys, reader is a flirt, paul is yearning, use of petnames, established relationship, reader is described to be wearing a dress

paul atreides was a busy man. with the duties of a duke on his young shoulders, it was hard to find any time for a respite. the workload seemed endless, the meetings were uncountable, and the lack of sleep was obvious on paul’s ever-aching brain.

there was also the lack of you.

paul despised being apart from you for long periods of time. when he would come to bed, sometimes at ungodly hours of the night, he was too exhausted to do anything but hold you until he fell asleep. he was grateful for you in that you were always there, waiting for him, no matter what.

an irritated huff escaped the duke’s lips as his eyes traveled to the door, almost willing for a distraction, anything, to take him out of this torture. he knew he looked a mess right now. his dark hair was irregularly askew from him constantly moving his fingers through it, his coat discarded long ago and his sleeves rolled up. he tapped his pen incessantly on his forehead, a restless fidget he had developed over time.

paul let his eyes find the document on the table below him, his brows furrowing. he did not have the mental capacity to even process what was on the paper. he was debating in his head if he should just toss the remaining papers from his desk and call it a day, but that was no way for a duke to go about work. he needed to get this done.

“a ton of bullshit,” paul murmured to himself as he picked up the paper, his eyes merely scanning the words across it. he was fighting the urge to shred the paper into the tiniest pieces he could when he heard a knock. he was going to ignore it, but a second knock sounded, and he only knew one person who could be on the other side of that door.

you let yourself in, impatience and something equivalent to excitement getting to you. paul’s eyes relaxed at the sight of you, a smile pushing at the corners of his lips.

“hey, love,” he greeted you, his gaze trailing down your form for a moment. he felt his breath catch at the sight of your attire, a long silk gown you knew he loved.

“hi, paul,” you replied with a smile, your movements graceful as you made your way over to him. paul’s eyes were trained to you as you moved, feeling a familiar ease as you got closer to him. you placed yourself behind him, your hands finding his shoulders as you looked down at the papers before him.

“what are you working on?” you hummed, leaning to his ear and letting your eyes rest on his face. paul’s heart fluttered as he felt your breath fanning over his next, your body heat tantalizingly close.

“the usual. meaningless documents i shouldn’t even be reading,” he replied to you, his eyes flicking back up to yours—and gods, you were close—for a moment and then back down to the messy desk. he scanned over the papers, trying desperately to ignore your looming presence beside him. he could feel your gaze, your eyes soft on his weary form. your head tilted after a few moments, and a quiet sigh escaped your lips.

“hm. well, you could always take a break. you’ve been at it for a while,” you suggested, your hands carefully moving over his shoulders in a soothing manner. paul nearly shivered, forcing down the urge to turn and let himself fall into you. he resisted, keeping his eyes on the papers and forcing his voice to be straight.

“you’re clever, darling. not clever enough for me, though,” he scoffed, trying to pay you no mind, even though everything in him was telling him to do the opposite. he huffed out a breath, his tone getting a little softer as he glanced at you. “i have to finish this.”

you sighed again, not happy with his response. he always got like this, so carried away that he wouldn’t allow for anything. luckily for you, you knew a way around it.

“i haven’t seen you all day, paul. and you do need a break. please?” you whispered in a low tone, your eyes silently pleading him to give in.

if there was one thing paul was, it was being absolutely weak for you. his breath shuddered as he let his eyes move to yours, a familiar thrill rushing through his body. you were still so close, teasingly so, and he would be a fool to not lean in. it’s what he wanted to do anyway. he stared at you for a moment, his gaze flicking down to your lips as he seemed to ponder his choices.

paul didn’t allow for another moment of hesitation, instead tilting his head up and planting his lips onto yours. you hummed against his mouth, your body shifting towards him to better access his face. you tasted so wonderful, and paul couldn’t keep his lips off of you. he took his time with you, his kisses slowly building up speed and intensity.

“missed you,” he sighed out, his breaths heavy. his hand traveled to your face, cupping your cheek and pulling you even closer than you already were. he hadn’t realized how much he’d needed this, needed you, until you were in his hold. paul felt himself melting into your touch, mindless to the warmth that followed in its wake.

you let him pull you closer, absolutely livid on the growing desire and heat within your body. it was like paul could sense the spark, his kisses quickly becoming passionate and hungry. your lips were already feeling kiss-bruised, your breaths labored as paul kept his mouth upon yours. you replied to him with even more urgency, your mouth moving swiftly over his in an entrancing way.

“sweet girl…” he breathed out in between kisses, practically gasping for air while he was still pulled away. he dove back in, one of his hands sliding down to grab your waist. he pushed you into his lap, your bodies pressed against each other in his chair. his tongue moved over your lower lip, almost as if he was requesting entrance. you complied, opening your mouth up to let him inside.

he nearly moaned as his tongue began to move across your mouth, lapping at your own and licking your sweet lips. he was in a haze, heat coursing through him as he felt desire well up in his body.

“i need you,” he uttered, his voice a low murmur against your lips. he began to pepper kisses across your face, moving almost lazily as he trailed down to your jaw and then your neck.

“you have me,” you hummed breathlessly, your hand weaving its way into his dark curls. longing moved in you as his lips parted from yours, leaving you aching for his touch. “‘m yours.”

paul lost it at that.

he groaned as his hands slipped onto the back of your thighs, quickly hoisting your body up onto the desk. papers scattered as you gasped, parting your legs instinctively to let him closer. he slotted himself in between your thighs, his fingers gripping onto them so tightly that you knew they would be bruised. his lips were rapid fire on your neck, kissing and biting at your skin like you might disappear.

you moaned out his name, your fingers digging desperately at his hair as if to ask for more. you could feel him smirk on your skin as his teeth grazed over your neck, red blotches gradually forming as he got more and more aggressive. his fingers dug into your skin, your heart nearly leaping out of your chest as they teased at your inner thighs.

you were thrown into a haze of passion, your eyes clouding over as paul’s lips moved effortlessly over your neck. he was unable to stop, utterly consumed by the constant need he felt for you. one of his hands moved off of your thighs to push you up further, his body now better slotting against yours. the sound of falling objects reverberated through the room as he shoved various items off of the desk, not an ounce of care left in him.

“your work..” you hummed weakly, opening your eyes and letting one hand slide down to his face. you lifted him up back to you, your breath nearly stopping completely as you caught his lidded eyes. a lazy smirk appeared on his face as he shook his head, leaning closer and closer to you.

“mm, don’t care. just want you, baby,” he murmured, so close that he was practically kissing you as he spoke. his hands found the hem of your dress and began to push it up, earning a groan from you as he purposely let his fingers drag over your skin.

his lips found yours once more, and you couldn’t help but think how long of a night you were in for.

a/n: okay what the crap this took me like TWO MONTHS to write because i have been procrastinating and too locked in w school to finish it…but i’m on break now so here we are. i couldn’t help but notice the drought of paul fics so hopefully this quenched your thirst (i’m starving too don’t worry)🤞i haven’t really written anything suggestive before buttt i kinda think i cooked 🙏

anyways i love paul atreides and be on the lookout cause i may or may not be in the process of writing a slowburn w/ a side of angst friends to lovers fic of paul 👀 it may or may not also be a two parter (🙈)

finally, i hope you enjoyed my writing and once again please remember to take care of yourself and stay hydrated. goodbye and i love you all mwah mwah <3333

[dreamyysouls]

When I find a 10k+ words count, friends to lovers, where he fell first and harder, extra yearning, no smut, fluff + angst fic

[dreamyysouls]

one day i will finish all my wips. one day.

[dreamyysouls]

guys there is a cute guy in my ap lang class and i’m debating following him on instagram or not but i’ve never had a single interaction and he literally just joined my school this semester 💔💔 soul is going to die i fear

[dreamyysouls]

The Duke’s Betrothed

Y/N and Paul sneaking around.

Paul Atreides x Fem!reader

word count: 773

warnings: fluff, arranged marriage

requested by: @ekgrooms using A6 and B7

masterlist, Paul masterlist

The first time Y/N laid eyes on Paul Atreides, it was as if the universe itself conspired to halt time. Their gazes locked across the grand hall of Castle Caladan, where their engagement was to be announced, and in that instant, nothing else existed—only him. The weight of duty, the careful maneuvering of noble houses, and the whispers of political alliances all melted away. He was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen, all sharp cheekbones and piercing blue eyes, a quiet storm wrapped in nobility.

Paul felt it too. The moment his eyes met Y/N’s, something within him shifted. He had expected another strategic marriage, another lesson in duty—but instead, he found her. And she was radiant, her presence like a force of gravity, pulling him in, making him forget the careful lessons of restraint and propriety.

The announcement had been made with all the pomp and circumstance expected of two great houses uniting, but neither of them had needed it. Theirs was not an arrangement of convenience or power—it was fate.

Y/N’s arrival on Caladan had been an affair of state. Her family, noble and prestigious, had disembarked from their ornithopter with all the grandeur expected of a house worthy of binding itself to the Atreides name. Banners bearing their sigil fluttered in the sea breeze, and a formal procession led them toward the towering castle.

Duke Leto Atreides stood at the forefront, his expression a carefully measured blend of welcome and authority. Lady Jessica stood at his side, her Bene Gesserit training evident in the poised way she assessed the newcomers. Paul, however, stood a step ahead, his heart pounding in his chest as he laid eyes on Y/N for the first time.

Her father spoke first, bowing slightly to Leto before introducing his daughter. “Duke Atreides, my daughter Y/N. May this union bring prosperity and strength to both our houses.”

Y/N inclined her head in graceful acknowledgment, but it was Paul’s gaze she sought, and when their eyes met, the world seemed to still. He took a careful step forward, offering his hand. “It is an honor to meet you,” he said, his voice softer than expected, as if he had already surrendered to whatever force had drawn them together.

Her fingers met his, and a charge passed between them, subtle yet undeniable. The formalities continued around them, but Y/N barely registered them, her attention solely on the young duke-to-be before her. She had heard of Paul Atreides—his intelligence, his sense of duty, the legend already forming around his name—but no account had prepared her for this.

-

“If we get caught, I’m blaming you.” Y/N whispered breathlessly against Paul’s lips as he pressed her against the cold stone wall of the castle’s secluded corridor.

He smirked, his hands framing her face as he leaned in once more, his breath warm against her skin. “I’d take the blame gladly.”

She giggled but it was quickly swallowed by another kiss—deep, urgent, as if they were trying to make up for lost time. They had been forced to endure a night of public appearances, endless toasts and polite conversation, all while their hearts pounded with the knowledge that they’d find a way to steal away, just the two of them. And now, with the moonlight spilling through the high windows, they had.

Paul pulled back just enough to brush his thumb along her cheek, his expression softening. “Do you trust me?”

Y/N exhaled, her fingers tangling in the fabric of his tunic. “With everything.”

His lips found hers again, slow and intoxicating, as he pressed her even closer. The castle was vast, its corridors twisting and labyrinthine, but in that moment, they could have been standing at the edge of the universe, alone in their own world.

Every stolen kiss, soft laugh against skin, whispered name felt like a rebellion against formality, expectation, and time itself. Paul’s hands settled at her waist, his forehead resting against hers as they caught their breath. The air between them charged with something more than just attraction.

Love.

Real, undeniable, unshakable love.

A noise down the hall had them both freezing, their hearts leaping into their throats. Paul grasped her hand without thinking, his reflexes honed from years of training. They dashed down the corridor, barely suppressing their laughter as they slipped into the shadows, breathless and exhilarated.

Y/N squeezed his fingers. “If we keep sneaking around like this, we might actually get in trouble.”

Paul grinned. “Worth it.”

And as he pulled her into another stolen kiss, she had to agree. Worth it, indeed.

[dreamyysouls]

first things first, happy 2k sweet girl! you deserve this so much and i’m so happy for you!

🦋 moth kissed notes please! (wish there was an actual moth emoji 😞)

I was hoping to req regulus black if you write for him with sick reader?

regulus black x sick!reader headcannons ⭑.ᐟ

author's note: thank you so much for darling ♡ i hope you like them ۶ৎ mwah ‹𝟹

nav. ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀2k celebration. ⠀

˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚ regulus black who tucks the blankets around you so tight you can’t even move but then immediately panics when you cough and loosens them again

˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚ regulus black who lets you lay on his chest even though he swears he’s not the cuddling type, but his hand is in your hair and his heartbeat is steady, so he’s lying

˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚ regulus black who glares at anyone who dares to be loud near you because you’re sleeping and you deserve peace

˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚ regulus black who brings you tea exactly how you like it and then hovers awkwardly like he’s not sure if he should feed it to you himself

˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚ regulus black who reads to you in that soft, lulling voice even though he insists he’s not good at it

˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚ regulus black who kisses your forehead even when you’re feverish and tells you he doesn’t care if he gets sick too

˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚ regulus black who will not get sick because he’s simply too stubborn but if he does, he’ll pretend he’s fine until you make him rest too

˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚ regulus black who sighs every time you say you’re fine but still stays up just in case you need anything

˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚ regulus black who won’t say it out loud, but he likes taking care of you, likes having a reason to dote on you without admitting how much he loves you

© iamgonnagetyouback ⋆.˚ please do not copy, translate, or repost any of my work.

[dreamyysouls]

slight air and purging fire

Pairing: Barty Crouch Jr. x Reader

Summary: He's your person and, apparently, you're his flame. Your more-than-a-best-friend spends the evening with you when Regulus needs a break, and you're both happy for the excuse.

Words: 4.1k

Warnings: gn!reader, no use of y/n, best friends to lovers, undiscussed relationship, just sweet fluff, physical affection, barty is always a bit suggestive, vague references to barty's mental state/trauma, cuddling, banter, implied autistic!regulus, background bsf!moonwater

Note: i haven't written a full barty fic since december, this was so cathartic<33 i still have some small drabbles from my celebration to release but wanted to share this with you before. and yes the title is from shakespeare even though i reference woolf in this, sue me. much love xx

It wasn’t an as common occurrence anymore, as Regulus had become more grounded the closer he got to Remus, but it was an ingrained habit regardless – every now and again, the dark haired boy would come to pull at your sleeve and give you a look.

A desperate exhausted look that clearly read “come get your beast under control”.

Over the years of sharing a dorm with Barty, Regulus had grown not only passionately loyal and affectionate towards him, but also rather sensorially detached. Meaning that most days, he was able to just tune his best friend’s antics out when they were too overstimulating or in his face. When Barty either talked a mile a minute for too many minutes, couldn’t sit still or couldn’t help from physically engaging with Regulus in some capacity, causing him to switch his brain off to deal with all the inputs. However, even the best soldier occasionally needs backup, and lucky for all the boys in their dormitory, said backup waltzed into their lives in year three and had been the only one fully able to quiet and anchor the hotheaded boy.

Your friendship with Barty came as naturally as a sunrise when you were paired together for a Potions project – you were his first desk partner that could thread the balance of stopping him from blowing up your cauldron and still having fun. 

He adored you for it.

You found he wasn’t half bad either.

The nature of your relationship and dynamic changed over the years as you grew up side by side, but the overall sentiment remained the same; you were each other’s person. Barty managed to catch every aspect of you both metaphorically and physically, and with you, Barty could move at a regular pace without losing himself.

You became Regulus’ secret weapon rather quickly when you were integrated fully into their friend group. 

“How do you do it? Why is he… like that with you?” Regulus asked you once in fourth year when Barty had fallen asleep with his head in your lap after three days of refusing to sleep. 

His legs were hanging over each side of the sofa, one shoe mysteriously missing, but he seemed perfectly at peace in your lap. You carded your fingers gently through his hair, separating the green and brown strands with a small smile on your face. “Like what?”

“It’s like he goes quiet.”

You snorted. “Barty is never quiet, even when I’m around.”

Regulus gave you a so-so shrug. “Not literally – but he kind of is, though. He will always be Barty, but it’s like he’s more… at peace. With you.”

You didn’t know why at the time, but you couldn’t meet Regulus’ gaze since he started this line of questioning. “I don’t know. If he is, I’m grateful for it, though. He’s the best friend I’ve ever had.”

It was probably never fully platonic between you and Barty, you recognise now. Laying on your stomach in your dorm while reading a book only half-focussed with your mind straying away to silver piercings, canine-grins and that laugh. 

He was the best friend you could have, but more so in the same way a dog is or, you’d hope, a husband would be. You shook the thought from your head.

It was a slow development – while you became inseparable friends within a week, the journey away towards a spoken, outlined romantic relationship was a long one. Not in the same way a queue is long, though, more so a cross-country roadtrip with, well, your best friend. 

Barty hugged you properly for the first time a year into your friendship. He cried in front of you for the first time in fourth year, and held your hand in fifth year. Last year, he kissed you for the first time. 

It had been quiet in that complex way Regulus had tried to put into words, where it was very clearly Barty so it was far from calm, but there was a certain peace hanging over the moment anyway. He had been having nightmares the last few weeks of term, so the two of you had taken to co-sleeping in the Room of Requirement, with your dearest prefect Regulus covering for you. Originally, Barty had conjured up two beds, but you swiftly pushed them together and charmed the gap away, giving him some snarky comment about “be sensible, Junior” that he laughed loudly at. 

There was no suggestive intent behind it, not really, just an insatiable desire for closeness. The same desire that had Barty at your side like a magnet from all the way back in third year, the same desire that flared in you each time his father or his pain came near, as if you could protect him with an embrace. 

He would have told you that you could.

It wasn’t clear to you anymore how it began, how one thing led to another. All you knew was that several days into your arrangement, you were still acting like small kids at a sleepover, staying up late because you couldn’t help but giggle. You had been in a half-cuddle but far enough apart to laugh with your entire bodies – one moment you made eye contact with your faces close to each other, your giggles spilling out across his face, the next he was trying to swallow your sounds with his smiling lips. 

There had been a lot of kisses since then, and not too many words about it. 

You would have thought it would tear you apart to live like this, having crossed the boundary over from best friends to something more without outlining it – but as with everything else, this was Barty. There had been no real boundary to cross, it was just waves in water, hand in hand. You knew inexplicably that you were safe in his hands, heart included. 

The oddest aspect of it was discovering that you had discovered a new level of comfort when you thought those had already been exhausted. Lips on lips, lips on skin, air on skin, clothes wherever, hands everywhere. 

With your finger caressing the page, a smile was still faint on your lips, and so was his touch. 

You were brought out of your idyllic mental landscapes by a physical tug on your sleeve. 

Your eyes darted down to the fabric on your left arm, seeing the jumper ruffle as if someone pinched it and be dragged out, as if you were being pulled out of your bed. The sound that escaped you were equal parts laugh and sigh, endlessly endeared by Regulus’ determination to avoid social or overstimulating situations – going to the extent of crafting spells specifically to save him. 

You slapped absentmindedly on your arm, hoping it would notify him with the energy of “okay, okay, I’m on my way”, as you rolled out of bed and made for the stairs.

The development of your relationship with Barty hadn’t come up with your friends yet. Or, you hadn’t let it, always steering the conversation away when Dorcas gave you knowing looks or Regulus whispered with you. This once, you indulged yourself to be selfish and keep him to yourself for just a bit longer.

Which is part of the reason why you leaned over the railing overlooking the common room, whistling as you spotted your group of friends around their favourite fireplace.

Regulus sat in Remus’ lap on the edge of a settee, hiding his face in the crook of his neck, looking picturesque in a way that made your heart ache with happiness for him. Evan was draped across the other side of the settee, feeding grapes to Pandora sat cross-legged on the floor with Emmeline’s head in her lap. Dorcas was absent, likely out training with Marlene, which was a totally normal thing to do with your quidditch rival, shut up you guys.

Your dearest Barty was currently laying balanced on the back of the same settee his friends were in, casting sparkling spells above him, likely to entertain himself in the calm atmosphere.

You understood why Regulus called on you. 

At the sound of your whistle, your friends’ heads whipped around to look at you, recognising the specific tune you only used for them – them being mostly Barty. You got a few greeting cheers from Barty, Evan and Emmeline, but it was the former’s grin that made your own spread.

“B!” you yelled. “Come read with me.”

You could have gone down to sit with them, but the comfort of your dorm was too overpowering tonight. Plus Regulus really really hated when Barty played with physical fire, so you figured you were doing him a double favour, too.

Anyone else making the same request – or rather, demand – to Barty would have received a scoff or a pout, but for you, Barty simply rolled off of the back of the sofa and used the momentum of his fall to run towards the stairs. He ruffled Evan’s hair on the way who flipped him off without looking up.

“Later, losers, love ya,” Barty called as he made it to the bottom of the stairs. 

He took them two at a time and before you knew it he was in front of you, placing his hand right beside yours on the railing as he looked at you with a lop-sided grin. “Thought you’d resigned for the evening.”

You bumped your fingertips into his. “Sort of. Got bored, though.”

His grin widened as he pushed off the railing to walk backwards towards your vacant dorm. “Can’t have that, can we, darling?”

You shook your head with a smile and followed after him, leaving just enough time to look over your shoulder and lock eyes with Regulus, pointing two fingers from your own eyes to his before intertwining them in a symbol of friendship. Regulus rolled his eyes at you with a smile, but Remus ��� his clearly better half – blew you a kiss. 

When you moved your attention back on the short walk to your dorm, you caught just the end of Barty jogging ahead so he could open your door for you with a theatrical flourish. You paid it little mind, kissing his cheek in thanks as you moved in past him, not waiting to see his reaction, if there was one.

“Where’s your roomies tonight?” Barty’s tone was half-mocking, referring to the endless saga of your two constantly absent dormmates. They were lovely people but so scattered, always either with their various partners or at events or simply just missing somehow.

Though you could hardly criticise as you do guess this is a saga of three, considering how you occasionally would stay over at Barty’s or even the Room of Requirement. You three were a perfect match. 

“Don’t know honestly,” you replied as you made to lay back down on your bed, keeping slightly to the left side. “Something about a breakup for one of them, so either partaking in a good cry session with a friend or making up once again.”

Just a year or two ago, Barty would have transfigured your small dorm bed to extend so he could sprawl out across it to his heart’s content, but to your heart’s content, he didn’t this time – he just laid down on top of your duvet with you, turned over on his side and propping his head up on his hand. “Or maybe making out with someone else, if they know what’s right for them.” Barty knew all about your dormmate’s turbulent relationships from the nights he stayed over while they were there, ranting to the both of you.  

“Oh you know all about what’s right for them, do you?” Your voice was teasing as you got more comfortable on the bed, laying your book on your bedside table.

Barty scoffed, as if to say duh. “Weren’t you going to read to me, sweetheart?” He nodded his head towards the book your fingertips were still lingering on.

The smile that spread across your face was outside your control, but you still maintained an air of sarcasm. “I believe I asked you to come read with me, I didn’t say I would read to you,” you clarified with a raised brow. “And I didn’t think you actually would.”

Barty leaned across from you and nipped the book off the table to hand over to you, the small paperback and his hand barely fitting between you two given the cramped space. “I want to hear you read.” 

He said it matter-of-factly, as if it was the most natural thing in the world, and you supposed it was. You would occasionally read to Barty when he needed help falling asleep, memories that though born from a bad situation rested fondly in your heart.

You took the book from him, opening it to the right page with one hand before looking up at him with appled cheeks. As soon as his hand was off the book, it settled on your hip instead, fingertips sliding beneath your jumper to rest against your skin there.

“Please,” he added when you didn’t reply right away. 

“Whatever my boy wants, right?” Your tone wound up being more affectionate than teasing. “Do you want it read softly or theatrically?”

When he tilted his head sideways to read the book’s spine, some of his hair fell into his eyes, which you promptly pushed back. “Is it possible to read Virginia Woolf theatrically?” he asked with a humoured tone.

“Oh, you have no idea. Obviously I have to do it theatrically now.”

Barty squeezed your hip as he all-but giggled. “Alright, show me the ropes then.”

He folded his arm to lay his head down to rest as his gaze fixated on your face as you read to him. Perhaps you would have felt self-conscious in any other situation, but with Barty’s legs tangling with yours, the scent of his shampoo filling your nose and his hums of approval, you were everything but. 

As you read, Barty pushed your jumper further up so that your side was exposed, enabling him to trace various patterns there while you read. Whether there was any sense to the chaos you wouldn’t know, eyes focussed on the page to give him the most proper experience of how theatrical Virginia Woolf truly could be. 

With Barty, time trickled by in an odd way. You felt as if you were spending centuries together without any of it wearing you down – in the sense that time passed quick but the minutes always carried more meaning when together. You got through two chapters, interrupted by long bouts of laughter when Woolf’s comedy struck through or when your attempt at one of the character’s accents thoroughly failed, before you began to tire out. 

His hand never left your side as you read, and when you laughed, Barty seemed to tackle you in a hug so he could feel every vibration of your laughter run through his own body. 

As you finished up the second chapter, a shiver ran down your spine for reasons you couldn’t quite pinpoint. Barty propped himself back up on his elbow to grab his wand from the nightstand and bring the duvet you were laying on to spread out over you without disturbing your position.

“Want to give that beautiful voice a break, darling?” Even as Barty asked, he was already gently – almost disproportionately so – taking the book from your hands and putting your water bottle into them instead.

You nodded as you put the bottle to your lips, swallowing greedy mouthfuls of water, though not regretting the activity in the slightest. Barty’s eyes followed the movement of your throat, eventually letting them trail up to meet your own as he took your bottle and placed it beside the bed with ease.

When you laid back down against your small mountain of pillows, Barty scooted closer to you and pushed your jumper back up where it had fallen down. He stared at his own fingers’ movements as he dragged just the tips over the curve of your hip, swirling around near your ribs before making the journey back down. He looked hypnotised by the movement, but your own eyes never left his face.

You heaved a large sigh, the one that drags itself from your lungs when you’re completely relaxed after a long day.

Without looking up, Barty asked, “Okay?” You were unsure if he was asking if you were okay, if his touching you were okay or something else entirely. 

Either way, the answer was: “Yes, love.”

At the term of endearment, Barty looked up at you at last, his teeth flashing as he smiled. He let his fingertips trail up the side of your body to your face as his eyes flitted across it, seeming increasingly content with what he found.

The silence was comfortable as you let him trace the lines of your face – your jaw up to your ear, cheekbones, browbones, forehead, nose, lips.

You almost wondered if you could have fallen asleep like this, safe and comfortable in this atmosphere he created that you almost dared call reverent, until he spoke again.

“My flame.” 

He said it absentmindedly as he caressed your face, almost as if he didn’t even notice he said it. His hand couldn’t stay still, using its quest on your face as a form of stimming, sensory seeking in his affection.

“Your what?” you asked quietly, humour laced into your voice that automatically tugged on the corners of his lips. 

“Flame,” he clarified, as if it was obvious. 

When he didn’t elaborate, you poked him teasingly in the ribs – simultaneously taking the opportunity to slip your hand up beneath his shirt to splay across his bare back.

“Just thinking about something Evans told me in Muggle Studies.” His smile grew slowly as he recalled more and more of the memory.

“Since when do you pay attention in Muggle Studies?” When you laughed, your face moved too much for him to trace, and he moved his fingers back into your hair until it evened out again.

He huffed in faux offense for only a second before relenting with a smile and an eye roll. “Only when Evans tells me weird fun facts. She understands what I find entertaining. None of that rain-wear bullshit – I want to know about the crazies.”

“Understandable. Game recognises game.”

Barty pinched your cheek lightly and stuck his tongue out at you. “Is that why we’re friends?”

“You tell me.” Your smile had an undertone he didn’t seem to miss as his expression turned just a fraction more bashful. You pressed your hand more flat against his back in encouragement. “What did Lily tell you about?”

“Oh, nothing.” He looked past you for a second with an absent yet pleased gaze before returning it to your awaiting expression. “Just about how some muggles believe in something called twin flames. It’s basically the same soulmate crap as everything else, divine connections and whatnot. Just people finding another way to explain their love. But I liked the name.”

His eyebrows moved emphatically as he spoke in quintessential Barty fashion. It filled you with a sensation only eased by moving your free hand to wedge beneath his cheek, resting there as a makeshift pillow, thumb brushing across his cheek. “Did you now?” 

He hummed in the affirmative. “I like flames.”

You snorted at that, which made his eyes light up and crinkle.

“No, I mean it–”

“I know you do.”

Barty rolled his eyes but his teeth were still on full display. “Do you want to hear my reasoning or not?”

You pressed your lips together to keep from continuing the banter and nodded. You wanted to see where this would go.

“I like flames. I like how they look, their warmth, how they make me feel. I’m always just itching to see one, to light something on fire or see sparks fly. But not when I’m with you.” 

His expression had neutralised as he kept studying you with an observant gaze – it felt like every twitch or movement held grand meaning to him. You felt like poking fun, but your voice came out almost as reverent as his. “Is this you saying you’re not bored when you’re with me?”

“This is me saying I’m not insane when you’re with me.”

Your smile instantly softened, hand on his back increasing pressure as it slid further up to rest over his heart. “You’re never insane, B,” you whispered. “Not actually, regardless of if I’m there or not.”

His eyes crinkled as if he was smiling, but his lips were pressed together, as if in thought. It wasn’t often you saw him thinking over his words before opening his mouth.

“This is me saying I love you.” His brows twitched into a furrow as he tilted his head sideways into your palm. “I don’t need that… that distraction when I’m with you. My flame.”

Your lips parted momentarily, as an oh died on them. Your eyes moved across his face rapidly, drinking in the expression, committing every open window into his soul to memory. He seemingly let you, a soft smile resting on his lips, though it was more vulnerable than you thought you had seen it.

“Love ya” was common in your friend group after Pandora went on a mission to normalise it between you. Elaborate practical jokes about proposing to one another or being secret lovers were a longstanding tradition. Your special bond with Barty was a given to you.

This, though, this was new – yet it did not feel like uncharted territory as you moved to respond.

Your face gravitated closer and closer to his as your gaze flickered between his lips and his eyes. “Then you might forgive me for saying I love you too, then?”

Barty’s breath hitched, but the sound was quickly taken over by a soft laugh as he leaned his forehead forward the last few centimetres that separated it from yours. “I don’t think there’s anything I wouldn’t forgive you for, darling. Though it might mean you’re more insane than I am.”

You shook your head softly. “Again, you’re not insane, B. That is an oversimplification made solely for jokes – same as how Regulus isn’t actually boring, even when you joke he is.”

Barty furrowed his brows deeply. “Who told you those were jokes?”

Your hand beneath his shirt pinched him, drawing a yelp from him followed by a deep giggle that you happily mirrored.

“No, I know, I know,” he said through a laugh, locking gaze with you through his lashes. “But I do feel crazy without you. That’s how I know.”

You didn’t need to ask what he was referring to. You looked down between you for a moment as you could not contain your smile. A comfortable warmth began to spread through your body, as if something was carved in stone with each touch, each smile.

“I do suppose it’s safer you entertain yourself with me rather than light fire to innocent structures and civilians.”

Barty hummed appreciatively as he took on a theatrically wolfish expression. “And Salazar, do I know how to entertain myself with you.”

This time you pinched him harder as a scandalous bark of laughter escaped you – both of which seemingly triggered Barty to roll his body forward and over you, winding up on the very edge of the bed with you now held flush against him, laughing together like the kids in love you were.

You shrieked as he manhandled you into the chaotic embrace, laughing against his neck as you held onto him tighter. “You beast!”

“Your beast,” he corrected, pressing his forehead back against yours while his palm cupped your cheek fondly. “Right?”

You weren’t ashamed to admit you melted into him; your expression surely lovestruck. “Right.” You nodded, dazed. “Mine.”

His smile twitched repeatedly as he maintained eye contact. “My flame?”

“Yours.”

There was a certain glossiness to his gaze as he pressed his lips together and nodded faux matter-of-factly. “Sounds like a fair arrangement?” 

You had never been more grateful to be fluent in Barty. It made that one sentence hold so much more sentimental worth in your heart.

“I reckon that’s fair, yeah.”

You didn’t wait for Barty to kiss you before you closed the distance between you with enough force to push him off his side onto his back – nearly off of the bed.

Just like the first time, you were laughing against each other’s lips, swallowing more and more of the sounds as you devoured the other, heart and soul.

Unlike the first time, when you intertwined your fingers beside his head and squeezed, there was no question in your heart left in your heart.

[dreamyysouls]

REGULUS BLACK AND THE ART OF LOVING A MADMAN ( WOMAN??)

PAIRING Regulus Black x Crouch!Fem! Reader

SYNOPSIS When you pick a fight with Mulciber (again), get hit with a particularly nasty hex (again), and land yourself in the hospital wing (again), Regulus has to work his usual charm on a professor to clean up your mess. Just another day in his fucking life.

CONTENT WARNING not proofread! ,crouch family slander, reader gets hurt, regulus getting pulled into things, fluff!!

WORD COUNT 1.8k

library.

Regulus Black regretted a lot of decisions in his life.

Most of them involved his family, some of them involved his choice of friends, and at least one of them involved that time Barty had convinced him to try a new spell that had made him vomit slugs for an hour. But on the top among his many regrets, the one that occupied his mind on a near-daily basis and might be the reason why his hair is greying at the ripe age of 16, was the fact that he had somehow, against all logic and reason, fallen in love with you out of all people.

And, unfortunately, the most insane person he had ever met.

“Stop them!” a first year yelled across the courtyard.

Regulus sighed deeply, already rubbing his temples. “Oh, for Merlin’s sake-”

He turned just in time to see you- his oh so lovely, brilliant and slightly deranged girlfriend- launching herself at Mulciber like a particularly homicidal pixie.

“Oh, brilliant,” Regulus muttered.

The duel had looked absolutely pathetic, if he was being honest. Spells were flying. Mulciber’s wand was raised, his face exasperated with anger and annoyance, while you looked totally unbothered, happy even, to be challenged. “You really want to do this, Crouch?”

“You looked at me funny,” you mused, as if that was a reasonable explanation. You showed no sign of actually doing any harm that day,he thinks, much to his surprise.

Merlin's buttocks, I'm getting too used to this mental buffoonery.

As if you could hear his thoughts (well, his steps weren't exactly quiet on the cobble stones), you added, "Care to repeat what you said about me and Barty as well, Mulci?"

Regulus let out a long-suffering sigh. Of course it about Barty. Barty Jr. could get away with murder in front of you, and you would still defend his honor as if he were some kind of noble martyr instead of an absolute menace.

For once, though, he wasn’t involved. He was sitting off to the side, watching the fight unfold with mild interest, completely unaware that his little sister was about to get herself hexed into oblivion on his behalf.

“I didn’t say anything that wasn't the truth, Black,” Mulciber was saying lazily to him. “And you know,” he drawled, twirling his wand between his fingers, “I always wondered how someone as uptight as Barty Sr. managed to spawn not one, but two utter disappointments.”

Regulus felt his girlfriend tense. Beside you, Barty went very still.

Mulciber smirked. “I mean, your brother’s already well on his way to becoming a Ministry disgrace. But you-” He let out a low whistle. “I don’t know if you’re worse because you’re reckless or because you don’t even realize it.”

Regulus sighed. Oh, for Merlin’s sake.

Barty scoffed, looking deeply unbothered. “Well, you would be an expert on family disappointments, Mulciber. How is your Squib cousin, by the way?”

Mulciber’s smirk faltered. His wand snapped up. That was it.

"Sectumsempra!"

You barely dodged it, eyes narrowing. “Alright, you little freak, where the hell did you learn-”

Regulus was already moving, pushing through the gathering crowd of Slytherins who had circled around, waiting for blood. “Protego!” Regulus flicked his wand just in time to deflect the bombarda that was just blasted- your spell, because of course you weren't backing down. No, you were going straight for the kill. “Reggie!” you whined. “I had him!”

“No, you didn’t,” Regulus said flatly.

“Mulciber, you have the nerve to continue this child's play,” Barty Jr. called from the sidelines. He didn’t sound particularly concerned. Mulciber smirked. “the little rat has nothing against me.”

He caught his girlfriend’s eye- “Don’t kill him." you just winked. And then, with a graceful, almost lazy movement, you flicked you wand. “Expelliarmus.”

Mulciber barely dodged. He fired back, sneering- “Stupefy!” You stepped casually aside, as if dodging wasn’t even an effort. “You’re going to have to try harder than that, love.”

Mulciber growled and raised his wand. “Depulso!” You twirled your wand midair defending yourself, as if the interaction was boring you immensely. The force of the impact barely even ruffled your hair.

Barty let out a mocking yawn. “Come on, Mulciber. You hex like a first year.” Mulciber’s face twisted with anger. “At least I have some dignity,” he spat. “Unlike your sister, who has none. It’s pathetic, really. A Crouch playing attack dog for a Black?”

Regulus’s jaw clenched. He looked at his girlfriend, and you were smiling, Not in a nice way. Oh, he was so done for.

You tilted your head, mockingly thoughtful. “You know what’s really pathetic, Mulciber?”Mulciber scowled. “What?”

You only flicked your wand. “Silencio.”

His mouth disappeared, where once his lips were, was now a blank canvas of skin. Mulciber’s eyes widened. He tried to speak- but only muffled words came out.

Barty burst out laughing. “Oh, that’s just cruel, tiger” Mulciber’s face twisted with rage. He furiously swiped his wand to counter the curse- but you didn’t let him. With one smooth, effortless motion, you fired another spell.

“Locomotor Mortis.”*

Mulciber stumbled. His legs went jelly-like, his knees buckling beneath him. Regulus exhaled. “Chéri, are you playing with your food?”

“Obviously.”

Mulciber seethed silently. He furiously gestured with his wand and you deflected the curse midair with zero effort. At this point, he was shaking with fury. His pride- his absolute refusal to lose to a damn Crouch-took over. His eyes flashed and he pointed his wand. A muffled “Confringo!” could be heard as red streaks came blasting towards you.

Regulus’s stomach dropped. The spell hit you square in the shoulder, sending you flying backwards with a sickening crack. “Bloody hell-” Regulus lunged forward, catching you just before you hit the ground.

Your robes were singed, your arm at an unnatural angle that would make a troll wince, and, of course, you were still trying to get back up. “ I swear to my ancestors souls, let me at him, Regulus, before-”

Regulus tightened his grip, pushing you down gently. “You are not dueling with a broken arm.”

You huffed. “I could still win.”

“You could also die,” Regulus snapped. He turned to Mulciber, eyes cold. “Are you quite finished?”

Mulciber raised his hands frantically, gesturing to you and back to barty as if to say 'Hey, she started it!'

Regulus didn’t argue. You had, in fact, started it. But that didn’t make this situation any less infuriating.

“Barty,” he called. “A little help?”

Said boy finally got up from his seat, leisurely strolling over like this wasn’t a life-or-death situation. He peered down at his sister with a critical eye, then shrugged. “You’ll live.”

You groaned. “That’s your concern?”

“You look fine to me,” he said cheerfully. “Besides, I think you got one good hit in." Regulus was going to lose his mind. “You are both insane,” he muttered.

“Thanks,” they said at the same time.

Regulus was already tired. He hadn’t even had breakfast yet. This was supposed to be a normal day. But no, his girlfriend had to pick a fight before 8 AM.

Merlin’s beard, this family was going to be the death of him.

Regulus was not built for this kind of stress. He ran a calloused hand through his pale face, cursing the gods for giving him a reckless bomb of a girlfriend when he once, pathetically, called upon them in his third year.

Meanwhile, Barty- who had been doubled over, laughing at Mulciber from the bed opposite the room, finally spoke, grinning.

“That was brilliant,” he told his sister. “Merlin, I love you. This is why you’re my favorite sibling.”

“You don’t have any other siblings,” Regulus pointed out dryly.

“Exactly!” Barty beamed.

On Godrick's balls, was he tired.

He sat next to your bed, watching as Madam Pomfrey fussed over your arm. The hex had done more than break the bone- it had burned through your sleeve (from your brand new robes, if you might add), leaving angry red scorch marks trailing down your shoulder.

You were delighted by this, and he was flabbergasted.

“I bet it’ll scar,” you said excitedly. “That’s wicked, am I right?”

Regulus pinched the bridge of his nose. “No. It’s not wicked. It’s downright idiotic.”

Madam Pomfrey sighed, already immune to your nonsense. “You’ll be fine by morning, dear. But you’re staying here for now.”

That was fine. That was great, actually. What wasn’t great was the fact that Slughorn was already marching into the room, looking both concerned and exasperated.

Regulus immediately straightened, preparing himself for an hour (more like 10 minutes with the way that mustache of a man rambles) of scolding.

“Miss Crouch,” Slughorn sighed. “Another duel?”

“She started it,” Regulus said quickly, ever the dutiful boyfriend.

His girlfriend shot him a betrayed look. “Regulus!”

Slughorn shook his head. “Detention, I’m afraid.”

Regulus tilted his head, sliding into his usual charming demeanor. “Professor, surely you can’t punish someone who’s already suffered so much.”

Slughorn frowned. “She hexed Mulciber.”

Regulus offered a smile, smooth as silk, looking past the man to the occupied bed with said subject. “And he hexed her back. Quite viciously, I might add. The poor girl nearly lost consciousness in my arms. It was tragic, really.”

His girlfriend scoffed. “I was fine.”

Regulus nudged you sharply under the blanket. “You were barely breathing,” he said dramatically.

Slughorn looked hesitant. Regulus pushed harder.

“I carried her here myself,” he continued, voice just the right amount of pained. “Do you really think she deserves detention after such an ordeal?”

Slughorn sighed, rubbing his temples. “…Very well. But no more dueling.”

Regulus smiled, victorious. “Of course, Professor.” Slughorn gave them one last weary look before leaving.

The second he was gone, you gaped at him “You are actually insane,” you said scandalized and eyes wide.

Regulus smirked. “You’re welcome. Perhaps we can star our mornings not risking our lives and you know, go to the great hall like normal witches, hm?"

You only beamed up to him, leaning back against the pillows. “You love me.”

Regulus exhaled, already exhausted again.

“…Tragically, yes. I do”

[dreamyysouls]

cozy for a night

the snow outside has you locked in castle caladan, bored out of your mind. paul finds a way to cheer you up.

paul atreides x fem!reader

word count: 1.4k

cw: fluff, lots of fluff, established relationship, paul and reader are idiots in love, cuddling, they tease each other

winters on caladan had never been particularly kind. harsh winds on top of even snowstorms made it impossible to go anywhere that wasn’t inside the castle. that’s why, when the winter weather did grow aggressive, you made sure to try to find things that could spice up your days.

you let out a sigh, closing the book you had been “reading” for the past hour. your brain hadn’t processed much of its contents, not that you had really intended to anyway. trying to busy yourself when there was no work for you to do seemed to be more exhausting than work itself. you slumped in your seat, trying to think of something, anything, that might keep you occupied.

it didn’t help that it was freezing everywhere you went. no matter what you wanted to do, the cold from the outside would seep into the stone walls and make sure you couldn’t be completely satisfied. your eyes flicked around the room for what felt like the hundredth time, still desperate for any kind of inspiration.

in the haze of your dilemma, you had failed to notice paul’s presence grace the room. a smirk appeared on his lips as he took in your form, silently admiring how focused you seemed to be.

“bored, love?” he finally spoke out, his body behind your seat. you regrettably jumped, a hint of blush dusting over your cheeks as you quickly turned to meet his eyes.

“how did you know?” you asked with the tilt of your head, a hint of sarcasm laced in your voice. 

“you made it a little obvious,” paul grinned, his voice lowering as he leaned down over you. he pressed a soft kiss to your temple, the contact sending sparks through your cold skin. you heard him hiss as he pulled away, his hand moving over your forehead carefully.

“why didn’t you tell me you were cold?” he questioned you softly, a subtle smile on his face. you sighed as you felt his hand running down your jawline, his slender fingers ghosting over your cold skin.

“guess i just didn’t notice,” you hummed out, your eyes fluttering shut as you relaxed into the feeling of his touch.

“didn’t notice? darling, you’re freezing.”

“it doesn’t feel like that to me,” you shrugged your shoulders, a soft smile on your lips. your eyes flicked up to his as he let out a hum, his head tilting as if he was wondering what he could do. it seemed to click, though, as his hands moved down to your shoulders, his smile morphing into a grin as he got closer to your face.

“well, you feel cold to me, and i can’t have that,” he lilted, his breath fanning over your face. one of his hands slipped further down, his fingers carefully weaving with yours and pulling you up. you rose to your feet, eyebrow quirked up as you looked at paul.

“where are you taking me?” you asked him, a small laugh falling from your lips as he gently tugged you away from your seat. your feet met with the cold tile beneath you as you walked, a shiver running through you as a result.

“somewhere warm,” he responded, his gaze shifting to you before moving back in front of him. he seemed to notice (as he so often does) your shiver and guided you closer to his frame, hoping you might feel the heat from his body. his hand squeezed yours gently, trying to warm your icy fingers.

you sighed as you let your hand relax in his hold, letting the warmth seep into your skin. your eyes drifted as you walked through the halls, passing windows where snow fell on the opposite side. the land was wrapped in a blanket of white, not a trace of rock or grass in sight. the landscape soon disappeared, however, as stone walls stepped in place of the windows.

you blinked, letting your gaze shift back to the hall in front of you. it wasn’t long before you came upon a doorway, paul tugging you inside. it was like a study of sorts, books lining the walls and a crackling fireplace in the center of the room. its heat enveloped you, the warmth cascading over your cool skin. you sighed, your eyes shutting for a moment as you relished in the feeling of heat on your skin.

you glanced up to see paul looking at you with a smirk, clearly finding amusement from your reaction. you quirked your eyebrow at him, your head tilting to the side.

“something funny, paul?” you rang out, a smile evident in your tone.

“are you realizing how cold you were?” he asked just as teasingly, that damn smirk still on his lips.

“are,” you corrected, shifting your body and turning to fully face him. “and i am, i suppose.” your arms moved to wrap around your figure, but paul quickly caught your hand, pulling you further into the room. he guided you to the couch that was in the center of the room, just in front of the fireplace.

“come here,” he said with a grin, sitting down on the couch before pulling you down with him. you let out a small yelp, your body coming into contact with his. he sighed, his slender arms moving to wrap around your form, holding you closely against him. 

you let yourself melt into him, your body instinctively relaxing at his touch. your head rested in the crook of his neck as you took deep breaths, inhaling his scent. the chills in your body began to dissipate, heat seeping into your form.

“better?” paul asked, a smile evident in his voice. your head moved, meeting his gaze and smiling up at him as you nodded.

“better,” you sighed gently, letting your head fall back into his neck. he chuckled at you, the sound vibrating off of his chest. he leaned down and pressed a kiss to the top of your head, one of his hands running up and down your back. you smiled, leaning in to place your own kiss onto the skin of his neck.

you adored the moments like these. paul holding you close, your frame cozied up against him…something about it always made your heart soar. perhaps it was the domesticity of it all. whatever it was, you loved it, and held onto it hard whenever it was given to you.

you could already feel your eyelids growing heavy as paul held you, the familiar feeling of his warmth soothing you as it always did. the fireplace wasn’t helping you, the crackle of the burning wood aiding in the task of making you sleepy. you felt so at peace, your heart and mind feeling happy despite your uneventful day.

“are you falling asleep on me?” paul asked you, a small laugh escaping him. his hold on you tightened momentarily, as if he was trying to wake you.

“maybe. it’s your fault,” you hummed, shifting your head and looking at him through your now very lidded eyes. he sighed and ran a hand along your jawline, and your cheeks flushed in an instant.

“oh, really?” he smirked, his head tilting to the side. his voice seemed purposefully low, like he knew the effects he had on you (which he very much did). “why is your sleepiness my fault?”

“you’re too warm,” you spoke up, your words mumbled and nearly slurred. sleep was creeping up on you, threatening to take you down. you fought the urge to give in and curl into paul’s hold, instead deciding to try and keep your eyes open. 

that ended up failing, your eyes fluttering open and closed periodically. paul noticed, a breath leaving him as he gently reached up again, his hand sliding down your cheek. 

“i’ve got you, love. you can rest,” he cooed, smiling down at you. his fingers stayed on your face for a few more moments as you nodded and let your eyes shut. you felt yourself sink into paul, your frame fully relaxed against his.

“love you,” you breathed out, your voice almost silent. paul watched you as your breaths became heavier and heavier, sleep finally overtaking you.

“i love you,” paul smiled, his thumb running circles into your back. he observed you silently, taking in the sight of you sleeping against him. your lips were slightly parted and your chest moved up and down slowly, your body otherwise completely still. you looked so soft like this, completely at ease in his hold. 

his eyes drifted to the fireplace and to the room around him, the world quiet for a moment. he glanced out of the window then back down at you, a grin appearing on his lips. maybe the snow wasn’t such a terrible thing after all.

my first time writing for my baby paul!!!! i love him deeply and needed to get this out of me 🙏🙏 my original intention was to make this christmasy but i kept procrastinating, as one often does. this definitely won’t be my last time writing paul, and i already have a few ideas in my head for what i’ll cook up next 👀 if you like my content, please leave a like and feel free to reblog!! requests are open right now, and if you have any ideas/thoughts/prayers i would love to hear them!! as always have a good day or night and take care of yourself 🫶🫶🫶 love ya!

[dreamyysouls]

guys im cooking up this friends to lovers fic with paul and i fear you may not be ready 🤭🤭 she is angsty BUT it does get better trust me !!! i could never not write a happy ending (which is why this will have two parts 🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️)

[dreamyysouls]

i miss paul atreides every day

[dreamyysouls]

LONG-DISTANCE LOVER | REGULUS BLACK

SUMMARY: regulus thinks his long-distance girlfriend might've forgotten him on valentine's day, but he couldn't have been more wrong. WORD COUNT: 2510 NOTES: valentine's day post number three! I hope you guys are enjoying these, I promise the other's aren't as angsty as these first three have been!

Drunk and miserable, Regulus kicked shut the door of his small London flat. He smelled like his childhood home, he felt like the darkness of it was still crawling over his skin from dropping off his brother to bed. He shucked off his coat as fast as he could, as though shedding the layers would scrape away the sickly feeling. 

It wasn’t often that he let himself get this drunk, or intoxicated at all, actually, but it had felt necessary. As the day had chugged on, his mood had grown more sour, until it was so bitter his face was scrunching up at the darkness brewing in his soul. 

Luckily, he’d found a kindred spirit in his brother. Not much did they have in common, anymore. Not since they were kids, in their matching shorts and suspenders, hiding behind the greenhouse to play with the frogs and escape their tutor had they had so much in common. But today, they did. 

Regulus had waited all day for word, for a card or an owl or anything from you, something to prove it wasn’t as dire as he thought, something to prove you hadn't forgotten the first Valentine’s Day spent apart. But nothing had come. Almost a year ago, your parents had decided to send you to a prestigious Wizarding university in the South of France, dropping the news on you just before graduation and shattering your shared ideas of a future. Your summer of plans had become a frantic, condensed two weeks of pretending like your separation wasn’t looming before you’d slipped through his fingers.  

Then you’d been gone, and he’d hardly seen you since, a few stolen days and a couple of secret visits over Christmas, but that had been it. You’d tried to give him an out, but he didn’t want it, he’d refused it point-blank and told you your relationship was strong enough to survive this distance. Now, alone on Valentine’s Day in the cold and dark of his flat, he couldn't help but wonder if you’d wanted the out for yourself. 

He hated to think that about you, but if you weren’t thinking of him, who were you thinking of?

At least Sirius had understood. Sirius, too, had been alone on this day. Unable to spend it with his boyfriend Remus, due to a number of reasons, he’d been just as miserable and moody as Regulus was. They’d gone bar to bar in London, and when they’d become too drunk to be conceivably inconspicuous in Wizarding London, they’d made their way to Muggle bars too.

Sirius had tapped out first, much to drunk Regulus’ thrill, throwing up in an alley somewhere in Soho, and he’d taken Sirius home and put him into the trustworthy hands of Kreacher. Sure, it was Sirius’ home now, and he’d stripped it away of everything that their family home as children had once been, but Regulus felt like the darkness was in its very foundations, he didn’t know how his brother could stand to live there. 

He’d been too drunk to apparate, and far too drunk to find a Floo safely, and so he’d taken the laborious Muggle way. Stumbling his way to the nearest Underground station, and patting down his pockets for the little plastic card with his Muggle funds on, until he could clear the security gates. 

With his head rested on the dirty windows and eyes closed, he’d let the rhythmic chugging of the Tube soothe the spinning of his mind, focusing on his breathing until he felt less like throwing up. The cold and rain of a British mid-February night had sobered him up considerably, until only a dull buzz was left in his veins, and a headache was threatening to start any moment behind his eyes. 

He stared at the coat on the floor, entirely having missed the coat rack he’d tried to hang it on, but he couldn't even be bothered to pick it up. He kicked off his shoes too, stumbling to the couch in the cold living room, but detouring the trolley holding enough bottles to put down a Hippogriff, to grab one. What better way to save himself a miserable hangover tomorrow morning, than to just get drunk all over again?

Sinking into the couch, he stared at the empty fireplace in front of himself, trying to will it into lighting, but he was too far gone to muster even a flicker of wandless magic, never mind a whole fireplace. 

Where was his wand, anyway?

A question for another time. Now, more whiskey. 

Popping the cork of the bottle, he let it roll to the carpet, staring into the dark fireplace again as he brought the rim to his lips and took a heavy swig. He was just going in for his second gulp when the fireplace roared to life. 

Hot, green flames licked through the room, sparking brought light that burned his eyes for a moment, before retreating just as fast into ash and smoke and leaving behind the blurry figure of someone standing in the dark. He rubbed at his eyes with a fist, a little too hard, leaving his eyes throbbing as he tried to clear them. 

“Reggie?”

Oh. He knew that voice. Snapping his head up, he listened to the soft click of heels across the floor, until a warm hand was brushing wet strands of hair out of his face. The room illuminated a second later, with real fire this time, warm and comforting, and the hazy glow of it lit the room enough for him to pull your features from the dark. 

“Mon amour,” He slurred, words blurring at the edges no matter how hard he tried to speak them clearly, “And here I thought you forgot about little old me.”

“Regulus.” You sounded disappointed, he hated that tone of your voice. So, he lifted the bottle to take another drink. The bottle never made it to his lips, he felt you slip it from his hand and heard it clink back into place on the trolley before your hands were back on his face. 

He liked that. 

“You’re freezing to the touch, Reg. And wet. Why are you sitting here like this in the dark, you’re going to get sick?”

“I was feeling—” He cut himself off with an ungentlemanly burp, chuckling to himself about how appalled his mother would have been to hear it, “Poetic.”

“Poetic, or stupid?”

He frowned at that, his mouth tightening it to a scowl, “Hey. You can’t call me stupid right now, this is your fault!”

“My fault?” Your lips twitched in amusement as you offered him your hands, and though Regulus was sure that somewhere inside he should’ve been embarrassed by this state, he couldn't find it within himself to care. This all felt a little too surreal as it was, perhaps it was just an alcohol-induced vision, and he’d come around from it soon. Might as well make the most of it. “How, pray tell, does that work out?”

You tugged him to his feet, and Regulus felt his stomach turn uncomfortably as he found his footing. You led him through his flat like you knew the way by heart, a painfully endearing action that he would tuck away to rehash in the morning when he was sober enough to hurt again. 

You placed him down on his bed, and he sat on the edge of it, watching you open and close the drawers to his dressers, searching for something. Fresh clothes, he reckoned. So long passed by in silence as you found him a change of clothes that it seemed you’d forgotten the question you’d asked, but it was still bouncing around in his whiskey-addled brain, echoing in his ears. It was only as you were pressing a kiss to the damn waves atop his head that he managed to find his voice enough to answer;

“You forgot about me.”

You reared back, re-entering his line of vision, and he choked down the swelling ball of emotions that followed the words escaping. It was little use, not as hot tears stung at his eyes, and he sniffled with his next inhale. “Reggie, what?”

His lip wobbled, and you crouched before him, cupping his cheeks so tenderly that it shattered his heart all over again. Your thumbs wiped across his cheeks, clearing away tears that were falling heavily, and he took a ragged deep breath. “You forgot about me. It’s Valentine’s Day, and you didn’t even send me a note. You have owls, patronus, and even the Floo! And nothing. We promised each other it wouldn't change things, but you forgot about me! You forgot about the person you’re supposed to love, on the day of love!”

Sobs were breaking free, and then your arms snaked around him, holding him close. Even though you were the cause of his pain, he was a weak enough man to concede that you were also the cure. He pressed his face into your neck as you played with his hair, and he cried. 

He cried for the raging, turbulent emotions of the day. 

He cried for every night he went to sleep alone, in a half-furnished home, because you were supposed to be here with him. 

He cried for the relationship staggered to a halt that seemed like it would never get back on track. 

He cried for his long-distance lover, who was supposed to be by his side, whom he missed every second of every day like a missing limb. 

He cried for every part of his pain that he normally suppressed, every emotional thought he’d never given voice to. 

“I’m so mad at you for leaving, do you know that?” He croaked, when the tears finally stopped and all that was left was his raw voice and the painful truth, “I know it’s just for a few years, but it’s killing me, mon amour. I wasn’t made to be apart from you, I was made to be by your side.”

You sniffled too, and it was then that he realised your pretty makeup was smeared, your cheeks were splotchy with colour like he imagined his own would be, and your eyes were rimmed with red. Raising a trembling hand, he brushed a lingering tear track from its shiny river along your cheek. 

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it when I blamed you.”

“I hate it too, Reggie.” You finally said, settling onto the floor in front of him, kneeling on the carpet and taking his hands in your own. You kissed his knuckles, each one slowly, and he felt a weight slip free from his chest. “I miss you every day. I think of you every moment. It doesn’t matter how long passes, I still look for you by my side every time I hear a funny joke or have a thought, and I still catch myself saying goodnight to you when I’m alone in bed each evening. I reach for you every morning before my mind catches up with my body. I miss you too, please know that.”

Your words simultaneously healed something within him while shattering something else, they settled a weight in his stomach but freed one from his shoulders. You were both struggling, but it helped to know his misery had company. 

“I didn’t forget about you today, Reg. I planned to come to you earlier this morning but couldn't. I’ve been working on this surprise since Christmas, since the last time we had to say goodbye and I almost couldn't leave again.” His gaze snapped up to find yours, lips parting to release a breath, and his heart skipped a beat at the smile that crawled over your face. “The Floo I had booked travel collapsed during the night, the whole chimney fell in on itself and it took hours to clear. And by the time it was done, you clearly weren’t home. You know the Floo doesn’t open if you’re not home, Reg. I’ve been sitting in the pub waiting hours, trying every thirty minutes!”

His jaw dropped, the cogs turning in his mind, even if they were operating at a lower functioning pace than usual, and his cheeks bloomed with heat. “You didn’t forget about me.” He whispered, more in confirmation to himself than anything, as he lifted a hand to tuck hair out of your face, and you smiled sadly at him with a sigh. 

“Forget about you, Regulus Black? How could I ever do that? Your soul calls out to mine, you are tattooed onto my very heart. I don’t know who I’d be without you.”

“Now who’s being poetic?” He whispered, sliding a cold hand onto your neck, and pulling you in. Finally, your lips met his, and everything in his world felt like it shifted back into place. When you kissed him back, a resounding click seemed to echo through his body, as it all locked back into place. 

You stood, he no longer had to look down at you, but up at you instead, as he kept up with your kisses, even as you moved. Your hands went to the hem of his damp sweater, tugging it up in a bundle with his shirt and dropping the pile unceremoniously to the ground. Your hands were hot against his skin, and he groaned at the loss of your mouth on his once again, as you directed him into a new, dry hoodie. 

Between kisses and reassuring touches, you had somehow managed to coerce him into dry clothes, tipping a hangover potion to his lips, before he even knew it. Because the next time Regulus found himself possessing clear thought and legible inner dialogue, was hours later. 

His lips were kiss-bitten and swollen, and his heart was steadily pumping in a way that reminded him of how happy he was to be alive. He was warm, uncomfortably so, wrapped up in layers of clothing and bedding, with your body smothered atop him, but he wouldn't move. No, he would stay where he was, he’d die of heatstroke if he had to, just for the chance to hold you a little longer. 

It would hurt him, cut him deep when he had to say goodbye to you once again after the weekend was over, but it didn’t seem so bad now. His heart wouldn't be the only one bleeding, he wouldn’t be the only one struggling. Soon, you’d be gone again, but it wouldn't be forever, and you wouldn't forget him.

It just meant delaying those plans for the future a little longer, but he could cope, he thought. 

Maybe not all of the plans had to wait, after all. He could have a home and a life waiting and ready for you when you graduate. He could get the ball rolling, and when you were ready, he’d be right here waiting for you. 

How happy he could make you, he thought, if you both just waited a little longer. You were worth the wait, that much he knew. 

[dreamyysouls]

・｡Bubbles 🫧

You've ordered: a slice of pink velvet cake! enjoy!

"We melt this love and recreate it as we imagine it~"

Paul Atreides x reader | word count: 654 words

Summary: what better way to destress than a comforting bath with your lover! 🫧

Warnings: none!

Note: here's a fluffy paul fic since i haven't written for him in a while. happy valentine's day!💕

It was yet another eventful and exhausting day for the future duke of House Atreides, Paul Atreides. Juggling training, meetings with his father and important dignitaries from other houses, and his mother's constant pushing for him to practice using "The Voice", the poor boy was worn out.

But, of course upon seeing you slip into his room quickly after he entered, it was as if a surge of life filled him. Feeling your arms encircling him as you hugged him from behind made his heart swell with a familiar warmth.

"How was your day?" you hummed, leaning up to press a light kiss to the back of his neck. Paul let out a satisfied mumble, placing his hands on top of your own.

"Exhausting." he murmured, his answer evident in his voice. You gave his waist a gentle squeeze before resting your chin on his shoulder.

"Sorry. Want me to get the servants to draw you a bath?" you asked, your warm breath tickling his neck a bit.

"Only if you'll join me." That brought a smile to your lips, making you lean over and press a kiss to Paul's cheek, mumbling a quick "Of course."

The two of you now stood in Paul's bathroom, watching as the large marble tub filled with warm water. You glanced over at the glass container filled with various bath soap tabs and salts. You told the servant that stood nearby your favorite scent, watching as they snapped off a few pieces of the soap tab, taking a handful of bath salts, and tossing them into the warm water.

Soon, bubbles filled the tub and a warm steam filled the room. You gave the servant a nod, letting them know they could take their leave. The two of you got undressed, Paul getting into the tub first. You felt your heart warm as he let out a sigh of relief, the stressors of his busy day melting away.

"Come." he whispered, making a space for you to sit between his legs. You gripped the edge of the tub, carefully getting inside and lowering yourself into Paul's lap.

You let out a sigh similar to Paul's, leaning against him so your back pressed to his chest. Paul's arms encircled your waist, pulling you closer to him, his chin resting on your shoulder as he gave your neck an affectionate kiss.

"This feels wonderful." you mumbled, lazily scooping up some water and letting it slip between your fingers. You sunk deeper into the pool of warmth and bubbles, your eyes fluttering shut for a moment.

"Want me to wash you?" Paul asked in a hushed whisper, a smile creeping onto your lips as you turned your head to face him.

"Only if I get to wash you after." Paul raised an eyebrow, an amused chuckle leaving his lips. How could he say no to you? "I guess I'll allow it." he teased, kissing your nose.

It was more so tickling than it was washing. Paul's fingers danced over your skin with the most delicate touch, making goosebumps prickle over you. You couldn't help but laugh each time he'd lean his head into the crook of your neck to press yet another kiss to your throat or shoulder. You'd turn around and poke him in his sides almost relentlessly, the young duke quickly losing his composure.

The sound of your shared laughter made the whole thing rather lively and heartwarming, the water beginning to cool, the bubbles in your hair and on your skin, the feeling of your shared embrace.

Paul grabbed your hands, intertwining your fingers together and tugging you closer to him. You couldn't even get a word out before he stopped your lips with his own. The two of you smiled into the kiss, the moment feeling as if it were specifically crafted for just the two of you.

All of it made tonight that much more pleasant.🫧

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