#*barty crouch jr
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stxrrnightjxr · 1 day ago
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This some shit Barty would say abt Regulus
(Bartylus has intellectual debates all the time)
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me and who
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aceofspades42 · 2 days ago
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Barty Crouch Jr. At 3am
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my-castles-crumbling · 2 days ago
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pizza - @rosekillermicrofic - word count: 283
Barty took three deep breaths before answering the door, trying desperately to appear calm as he revealed the boy on the other side.
"Hey," he mumbled, deciding short but sweet worked best as a greeting, fighting back a giant grin.
"Hey," the delivery boy responded, face completely void of emotion.
That didn't matter, though. Barty was already more than obsessed. Biting his lip, he allowed himself a few moments to stare, taking in the blonde braids and tattooed skin. Fuck, he wanted to add more marks there.
"It's 22.50," the man said flatly, jolting Barty from his fantasy.
"Erm. Right." Turning and grabbing the cash he'd left on the counter, he handed the man $30. "Keep the rest," he breathed, shifting from foot to foot.
"Right."
Barty took the food eagerly and watched him walk away, nearly drooling from the view. It was only as the man reached the street that he got the courage to speak up. "Oi!" he called, heart hammering.
All he received in reply was a single, raised eyebrow.
"What're the chances you wrote your number on the inside of the box?" he asked, smirking.
Delivery Boy tilted his head to the side. "Zero."
Barty's heart sank. They'd been playing this game for weeks now, and his hopes were slowly running out.
"But if you're smart enough to check the back of the receipt, you might find something."
With that, the man drove away, not bothering to look back.
Turning, Barty went back into the house, grinning like a madman, only to find Regulus about three feet inside the door.
"Guess I know why you wanted pizza so badly," Regulus rolled his eyes, snatching the box from his hands.
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theblackstar04 · 2 days ago
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at what point did evan and barty become evan and barty. i like to think it was sometime in their second year when they really became that. obviously before they were usually with eachother, they shared a dorm, classes, the same friends, they were around eachother constantly, but second year is when there was a small shift, one that everyone but them realised that made them evan and barty. they didn't notice it themselves, because ofcourse they wouldn't, but it was glaringly obvious to everyone else.
the way barty would drape himself over evan. seek out his touch whether he realised it or not. would help evan with his homework first then rush his own, getting perfect marks anyways. the fact he would actually listen to evan, something he wouldn't do for anyone else.
the fact evan even let him in his personal space in the first place. would let him ramble on about whatever was going through his brain and actually listen. would let him crawl into his bed at night after a nightmare, something he only ever did with pandora when they were kids. would watch him so intently, all of his focus just on him.
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crescenthistory · 1 day ago
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You Too, Silly
Pairing: Bartylus x Reader (Starkiller x Reader)
Summary: When your two best friends fall in love and make it official, you try to be happy for them despite your heartbreak. When they keep flirting with you, though, things grow complicated.
Words: 8.8k
Warnings: not proofread, fem!reader, use of y/n, poly relationship obvi, miscommunication trope, pining & yearning, hurt/comfort, (some) angst with a (very) happy ending, your pov and you think your love is unrequited, it is not!, all three of you are stupid but you're in love so it's fine, kissing while crying, some slight suggestiveness but overall safe for minors, light drinking at a slytherin party
Note: this is my hard launch of romanian!barty mwah – if you don't like it sorry not sorry, this is my barty now!
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Being in love with your two best friends hurts.
Being in love with your two best friends who are in a committed relationship with each other hurts perhaps even more.
Being in love with your two best friends who are in a committed relationship with each other, yet for some reason seem hellbent on jokingly flirting with you at any given moment could be considered a form of torture.
And for the past few weeks, Barty Crouch Junior and Regulus Black have been putting you through nothing short of torture.
As any relationship either boy has sustained throughout their lives, your friendship with them was complicated. When you and your dorm mate Dorcas first began integrating yourselves in the friend group that consisted of Barty, Regulus and the elusive Rosier twins, you had both said you might come to regret it. You remember clearly sitting up one night and talking about it – you both thought it would end in flames, yet somehow you couldn’t help but poke the bear. You would prefer to fly under the radar, avoid any more pain than you had already had to grapple with, but you also craved a sense of belonging and figured it was worth the risk.
And oh, were you rewarded. 
No friend had treasured you the way Barty does. The second he decided he “liked your vibe” as he put it when he cut you off mid-sentence during your first proper hang-out, you had a loyal guard dog who would kill for you and then demand cuddles as payment. Almost overnight, wherever you went, Barty wouldn’t be far behind, no questions asked. He was fierce in his love, uninhibited and wild. It made you feel important in a way that sizzled over your skin.
In Regulus, you found a quiet understanding no one else had been able to give you before. He was both a mirror held up to your face and a cushioned bench to share during your turmoils. It seemed like he could read your every thought, every experience, like the books you would bond over. Silences shared with Regulus often gave you more than long conversations with others ever could. While he didn’t declare your friendship in the same way Barty did, he still had this simple way of making you feel seen and known.
They quickly cemented themselves at the root of your heart. They were your best friends, and you theirs. Your boys; with their respective green and white strands in their curly hair, who were misunderstood in each their way yet were never a mystery to you.
Perhaps naively, you had always thought there was a certain tension there, that something ran deeper below the surface. Barty was physically affectionate with all his friends, but the way he reached out for you felt differently charged. The only other person he held as long as he did you, was Regulus. It felt right. Likewise, you had yet to be in a room with Regulus without feeling his eyes on you, and you often absentmindedly compared the feeling to when Barty hugs you – they were equivalents, those gazes were the former boy’s version of affection. When you played spin the bottle during an after-party in the boys’ dorm one night, Barty’s grin had widened brilliantly when it landed on you and Regulus. You had sworn you had seen a hunger in his eyes when he watched you share the brief kiss, and you could still hear the soft sigh Regulus breathed against your lips. Again, it all felt so right. 
It went unspoken, but you thought that was because it did not need to – not because it was not there.
You knew, of course, that you had been stupidly delusional when Barty hauled Regulus with him into the Great Hall a month ago, hands intertwined, and announced with his signature Cheshire cat smile that he “finally got the boy”. You saw them making out – rather publicly – at the quidditch victory party the night before, but at the time it had only made you smile. It was odd, how you hadn’t realised that kiss was proof that all this tension really was just the two of them. Not before the words left Barty’s mouth did it hit you that this was a part of them you were not involved in. That felt decidedly wrong, but you shoved it down and joined in on the wolf whistling and congratulations, pushing your plate away in the chaos, unable to take another bite.
Since then, you have just tried to be happy for them. Or at least seem it.
Tried to smile through it all as Barty made sure their honeymoon phase was as public as humanly possible, much to Regulus’ ongoing chagrin. Tried to laugh at the quips your friends made, the “get a room you two”s and the “lovebirds”s, though you were never able to dish them out yourself, instead just humming along in agreement whenever Dorcas or Evan did. Tried to stiffen your mask to the point where it could not crack underneath the pressure of emotion, perfectly polished as you originally intended for it to be. All those years ago, before they had ensured you would not need it – you gave yourself a silent thank you for your previous doomsday caution. 
You even tried not to avoid Barty and Regulus, to be normal. Why should they be punished by losing one of their best friends because they had the audacity not to fall in love with her too? While you thought yourself generally successful in not showing disdain for their new relationship, this was the one aspect you struggled the most with. Your instinct was to run away and it physically pained you not to. In the few weeks they had been together, you had not been able to stomach being alone with just the two of them and confront their relationship in such close proximity – but you knew you could not avoid them altogether. Instead, you tried to always attach yourself at Dorcas’ hip and always invite the rest of your friends if Barty and Regulus wanted to do something with you. They ask you to study out by the Black Lake? Fantastic, you, Dorcas and Pandora have an Astronomy project you need to work on anyway. They want to visit that one store in Hogsmeade with you? How convenient that Evan was discussing how he needed something from there earlier, and if he goes, then Pandora goes and if she goes Dorcas can’t be the only one left behind, can she?
To offset any accusation that you were not spending time with them alone, you still spent time with them one on one when you knew the other would be busy – just seeing Regulus or Barty was not too bad, it was seeing them as a couple, knowing it did not include you, that you could not withstand. If you were alone with one, you could just pretend nothing changed. 
You made sure you focused on these ‘rules’ in your mind, the carefully constructed plan on how to make it through the year. Somehow you did not have it in you to wish they would break up and put you out of your misery – you wanted them, not just one – so instead you set your sights on graduation day. What you would do afterwards, you did not yet know. Disappear off the face of the earth? Become an Unspeakable as an excuse not to ever see them again? Endless possibilities. You zeroed your focus on your coursework and these measures you must take to protect your heart and sanity – if you filled your mind like this, maybe you could distract yourself from the pain that leaked through your body.
Barty remaining his flirtatious self whenever he was around you and Regulus’ simmering dedication to you seemingly only building, was decidedly not helping your case.
Which is how you ended up in this admittedly awkward cat and goose chase.
“There you are!” Not only did you hear Barty’s screech the moment he laid his eyes on you – everyone else in the library did as well, going by the shushes and ugly glares you both received that Barty paid zero mind to. “Dragă, I have been going crazy without you, where have you been?”
He plopped down on the bench beside you instead of any of the readily available chairs around the table, thigh flush against yours. “Good morning, B,” you whispered, hoping to lower his volume with yours.
The ever-growing grin on his face told you he likely understood your attempt. His hair was still damp from his morning shower and hanging slightly in front of his eyes, but you could see the sparkle there you thought was reserved for you. “Good morning,” he stage-whispered dramatically, to show his abiding of library law. Then, he pressed a smacking kiss to your cheek before pulling up his books. “Tell me, why are we studying on a weekend morning?”
This was the kind of activity that caused your delusion. It was early on a Sunday, arguably too early, and you had snuck out of your dorm to the library before anyone else woke so you would not be roped into any heartbreaking hangout. Yet, upon your absence, Barty went looking for you before doing his hair or anything – and when he found you studying, as he likely assumed you would be, he just joined you. There was no reason for him to.
You had been staring at him a tad bit too incredulously for a tad bit too long, so he gave you a cheeky sideway glance while he readied his books. “Too early for you too, baby?”
You shook your head, but couldn’t stop the laugh escaping you. “Maybe I’m just shocked at seeing you voluntarily in the library. I usually have to drag you here.”
“Yeah, because usually I have you with me somewhere more fun when you try to go to the library,” he explained to you matter-of-factly. “Now that you are here from the get-go, I accept my fate that this is where we’ll be. For now.”
“Lucky me.” You poked him lightly in the side to emphasise your sarcasm before you tried to return to your books, though your attention was thoroughly divided.
“I reckon I am the lucky one who gets to spend time with the fittest babe in the castle.”
You snorted at the same time as your heart shattered further – an odd reaction none other than Barty could draw from you. Those comments are not only how you got in this whole emotional mess to begin with, but felt like genuine ice shards spearing through your flesh. You were guilt-ridden as you revelled in them, and begged the gods he would stop.
“And I reckon,” you teasingly copied, hoping to sound level-headed and not agonised, “that Regulus would not appreciate having that title taken away from him.”
“Regulus is a fit babe,” Barty said dreamily, unaffected by your correction. “But he would agree that the title belongs to you, Dragă.”
What the fuck is that supposed to mean?
Barty was incredibly particular in how he showed affection, and flirting with you explicitly was not at all out of character for him. You just, perhaps bitterly, hoped that maybe he would stop, if he was to be in a monogamous relationship with one of his two best friends.
“What’ll you be working on?” you asked, hoping to redirect the conversation. 
Likely entirely unaware of your attempt, Barty allowed you, delving into a longer rant about what extra assignment Professor Flitwick had assigned him because he “saw potential in you, young man”, which he of course found to be utter “trollpiss”. It was familiar, working side by side while also not studying at all, gossiping like the two best friends you are. It should be lovely, and you kicked yourself for being hung up on it just being friendly, when friendliness in itself is a gift you should be grateful for.
While you tried to allow yourself to enjoy Barty’s company and not be guilty for how hard you noticed where his body touched yours, you kept your eye on the clock. Regulus had prefect rounds on Sunday mornings, but as soon as he finished them, he would seek the two of you out. 
You had to get away from Barty before then.
“While this was lovely,” you said with a forced airy tone, “I have to get going now, B.”
“Cool, where’re we goin’?”
Your pageant winner smile wavered slightly as he immediately began to pack up his belongings, considering it a given that he would join you in your endeavours. “I don’t think so. I’m heading to meet with the Hufflepuff third years I tutor, and I believe it would be considered a crime to introduce them to you when they’ve just stopped being scared of me.”
Not technically a lie. You picked up a massive amount of extracurriculars after Regulus and Barty became official, and tutoring Hufflepuffs was part of it. Though you had no scheduled study session with them today, you knew at least two of them were still too much of a pushover to say no to you if you headed over there. Innocent casualties in your escapades. 
Barty immediately pouted. “No fun,” he whined, sitting back down before you. He grabbed your hips and pulled you flush to him so he could rest his forehead on your stomach in defeat. “Why do you have to be such a swot? I miss you.”
You hoped he couldn’t hear your heart flutter at the sentiment. You brought a shaky, selfish hand up to card lightly through his hair, separating the green from the black. “Sorry, B. Duty calls and you know how much I love to be a hero.”
“No hero would leave such a perfect victim like me destitute and alone.” He moved his chin to rest against your flesh so he could look up at you in faux misery.
“Good thing you have Regulus, then.” You feared your voice was more pointed than you wanted it to be. It did not go with the pleasant mask you tried to wear, but the mask never fit quite right around Barty.
Something odd flashed across his eyes at your words and his eyebrows furrowed slightly. Whether he wanted to say something that would explain it, you would not find out, because you gave his hair one last ruffle before patting his cheek lightly and pulling away.
“I’ll see you for dinner, alright B? Don’t worry about me.” You turned around and walked away without waiting for a response.
It still came behind you, sounding too much like the ache in your own chest. “Counting down the minutes!”
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You survived the rest of the Sunday with little to no incident; as in, you avoided being alone with Regulus and Barty, ensuring the friend group ate together and sat together in the common room afterwards. When Pandora retreated to head to bed, you immediately used the excuse to slither away too, lest you end up trapped with just the two of them by the fire.
Dorcas opened the door to your dorm just a few minutes after you had settled down on your bed to reread your comfort novel. You looked up with a warm, small smile to greet her, but it slipped away as you saw her eyeing you carefully. Neither of you said anything before she was sat on her own bed opposite you, studying you. There was this crackling ferocity to Dorcas’ silences that would make even the strongest man cave – and you were not feeling particularly strong lately.
“Spit it out.” It was all she said.
You sighed and put your book aside, straightening up in your previously comfortable position. “What is it, Cas?”
She gave you a stern but not unkind look. “You’re different. Why?”
“Different how?” You stalled.
She indulged you. “You’re not yourself, babe. Your smile doesn’t reach your eyes and you act like you’re programmed and not like you’re living. I want to know what’s wrong. I want to help.”
The staggering, almost fragmented way she spoke was in part to spoon-feed you her concern so that you might actually answer her truthfully and in part how Dorcas was with emotions. She had not been raised to speak of them, but she was loyal and smart, so she knew when it was needed, even if you wished she wouldn’t.
You looked at her with heavy eyes for a moment before sighing once more and bringing your hands up to roughly rub at your face. “There is no way for you to help right now, I’m sorry. Except maybe be my shield.” The last part was added as a joke, but it fell flat.
“Shield you from what?” Protectiveness flared in her tone and you knew you had to soothe it with the truth.
“Not what,” you said softly. “Who.” You pleaded with your eyes for her to understand.
It took but a few seconds before her face scrunched up in pity – and something that would almost looked like amusement, had you thought her cruel enough to laugh at you. “Barty and Regulus.” 
It was a statement, not a question, yet you nodded in affirmation, shutting your eyes in humiliation. “It’s bad, Dorcas. It’s so bad.” A tired heave for breath. “But I will get through it. I just need a little bit of distance without any drama around it and to get my shit together.”
Dorcas looked like she was weighing up her next words carefully. “If I didn’t know you as well as I do, I would have told you to talk with them. Alas, I know you won’t. But I hope you somehow end up having to.”
Cryptic and confusing; just how you knew her to be. 
When she realised you would not answer her first sentiments, it was her turn to sigh and give you a rueful smile. “I assume this is why I suddenly have been roped into so much lately? Marlene misses me.”
You laugh at her teasing tone, happy for her to not dig too much into your feelings. “Sorry about that, babe. Just for a little while longer, yeah?”
“Yeah,” she repeated with a tilted head. “If it’s any help, I get it.”
“Considering you got the girl, I don’t think you do.” There was no malice in your words, just a bit of longing. It was bittersweet to indirectly admit your loss.
“That’s not what I meant.” She waited to continue before you met her eyes once more. “I can’t say I understand your heartbreak exactly, but I share your confusion. I also thought you would be part of it.”
The look you gave her must have been nothing short of gobsmacked, yet she had the kindness to not laugh at you. It was unclear whether you were most surprised by her knowing you were in love with both of them, or her having shared the same assumptions as you once. Both floored you.
“I–” you tried, but your voice failed you. All you were able to do was whisper a small, “Thank you.”
This time, there was nothing but pity in her eyes. “I’m sorry babe. I’ll shield you to the best of my ability.”
You shared small, knowing smiles and you decided to end the conversation there, lest it get teary. Reaching over, you carefully switched off your light and placed your book on your nightstand, abandoning any attempt at being comforted for the night. When you laid your head on your pillow, there were phantom indents on either side.
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The one place you had no opportunity to shield yourself from or avoid either of them was during classes.
With your timetables for the year, you and Regulus ended up sharing more than half of your classes, while Barty was in at least a third of them. When you first saw the allocations, it felt like painfully little, and the thought of scraping by so many classes without them felt like a punishment you did not deserve. Now, you almost wished it was less.
Almost was the key word though – because Regulus’ presence by your side at your shared Herbology station was somehow melting the tension that had settled in your bones and making your chest heave all at the same time.
His elbow bumped lightly into yours. “You alright?”
You looked up from the notes you were pretending to study for the depotting you two were currently attempting, giving him a brief smile. “‘Course. Ready for the next step?”
His gaze lingered on you for a second too long, flickering over your face carefully before nodding almost imperceivable. You shifted your focus towards the Venomous Tentacula on the bench before you, reaching out to carefully manoeuvre the prickly leaves away so Regulus could attend to the roots when his hand stopped yours.
“These aren’t tight enough.” His voice was but a whisper as he took off his gloves to tighten yours where the velcro was hazardously slapped on top of each other. With long, cold fingers he elegantly realigned the straps and made sure there was no gap between your skin and glove. “Don’t want my best girl getting hurt, right?” 
Regulus looked up to meet your eyes, a small smile playing over his lips. With his striking grey eyes locked on yours, you feared your emotions were too clearly pasted across your face. His loose grip remained on your bare skin, thumbs brushing carefully above your gloves.
“Right,” was all you offered him curtly, pulling your hands back to yourself. 
Together you navigated the plant meticulously from one pot to the other you had pre-prepared. Propagating, maintaining and harvesting from the plant was one of your major projects in Herbology for the term and you and Regulus had been dedicated to your so-called coparenting to begin with. Now, to have his body half pressed to yours as you covered the plant’s teeth and angled its venomous leaves away while he extracted and cleaned its roots, it was almost too much. You breathed in and instead of being overwhelmed by the smell of dirt, your nose was filled with Regulus’ shampoo and cologne. You were suddenly thankful your part of the job was rather stationary, as you feared your hands trembling.
Regulus took a laboured breath as he settled the plant properly within its new home, packing the potting mix carefully around the roots. “Right there, perfect,” he murmured, presumably to himself, yet you fought the shiver down your spine. You noticed him glancing at you in the corner of his eye with what can only be classified as a smirk growing on his lips. “Amazing work, amour.” That was unmistakably to you.
You lightly shook your head to clear your thoughts. “Are we done?”
“Unfortunately,” Regulus replied, dusting the remaining dirt off his gloves as he took a small step back from the plant – and closer to you. “Gregory has been successfully assimilated to his new environment.”
You scoffed a laugh, to which his smile grew genuine. “You’ve got a flare for the dramatics, Black.”
“Only comes with being close to one Bartiemus Junior, doesn’t it?”
His eyes were crinkling from his smile and adoration, but you took the comment for what it was – a reminder. A warning. Albeit a confusing one, giving his amorous words just a few moments ago, but one you most certainly needed. “That it does.” Your tone was drier than you intended, but you did good; the smile didn’t slip.
Regulus’ did, and he tilted his head while regarding you. “I almost slipped up a few times there, though. Was a tad distracted.” There was an undeniable cheekiness dripping from his words.
“Yeah?” was all you managed to say.
“Yeah,” he breathed out, leaning against the desk. You had time to small talk, giving as you were finished long before anyone else. “Pretty girls like you really shouldn’t be allowed in here; it’s a safety hazard.”
“You would know all about safety hazards,” you mumbled, fighting yourself from going red from the sentiment or seeing red from the audacity. 
Regulus’ laugh seemed more guarded than usual.
“Speaking of,” you said, trying to get the conversation to safer grounds, “who do you think will definitely kill their plants at last today?”
If there was one thing you and Regulus did well, it was gossip, and you managed to derail him into chattering quietly with you instead of doing some weird dance of pushing the limits and then drawing them clearly. As you spoke, you took small, careful steps away from Regulus to put some physical distance between you, hoping he wouldn’t notice.
If you had looked him in the eye even once more before your separation to go to your next periods, you would have seen that he did.
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You would have thought the Quidditch game on Friday to have been a blessing.
The tension had been growing more and more between you and your best friends, and it seemed that the more you volleyed around their pretend flirting, the more fired up they got, in each their own way. It didn’t seem sustainable anymore. 
Even Dorcas had grown weary of you, though she tried to remain supportive while urging you strongly to speak with them about it.
“And say what exactly? What could I possibly say that would not make the situation ten times worse?”
Dorcas levelled you with a look that spoke volumes, but she seemed unwilling to verbalise any of it in response. Instead she just offered you a vague, “It might go better than you could imagine.”
You must admit you had grown weary of her cryptic remarks as well.
A quidditch game gave you the perfect opportunity to have a small break from them guilt-free, seeing as they were all playing for Slytherin. In turn, you believed you gave Dorcas a break from working overtime to shield you and keep any awkward situation at bay. 
With you in the stands, cheering for your little makeshift family who were all involved in the game somehow – Regulus as Captain and seeker, Barty and Evan as beaters, Dorcas as a chaser and Pandora as commentator – you thought you could finally breathe for a moment. 
Any such hopes were shattered when Barty came chasing up beside you before you could ascend the wooden stairs to find your seat.
“Dragă! Hold up!”
The pet name sent warmth up your spine, but the sigh that escaped you was not a happy one. You turned regretfully on your heel to take in Barty’s form as he jogged up to you. His quidditch gear was tight, much more than it had any business being, seeing as he could easily make them larger with a quick spell if he wanted to. 
You didn’t ask what he wanted, but he didn’t seem to mind, grin permanently plastered on his face in your presence.
“Do I not get a kiss for good luck?” He threw you a cheeky wink with his comment as he came to stand in front of you, breath slightly laboured.
“Sure you can. Regulus is right over there.” You hoped your voice sounded a bit lighthearted even in your sternness of correcting his flirting. Even more, you hoped the heat in your cheeks had not turned into any noticeable redness. 
A look at Barty’s wicked smile told you it might have. “I’ve already gotten plenty from Reggie. Now I just need my girl and I’m golden.”
You knew he didn’t mean it, at least not like that. You knew he meant a kiss on the cheek, and you knew he asked to make fun – not of you, but of the concept of good luck kisses and of your closeness as friends being read as anything else. He likely didn’t even know that you had been among those reading it as something else, this was a joke the two of you were in on, as all best friends should be.
Still, you couldn’t help but wince at the sting in your heart.
“I think you’ll do just fine without it, B.” You pressed your lips together in the same way you would if you were fighting a smile and not a frown.
He tilted his head at you, a mix of black and green strands falling into his eyes. “Have I done something that would make you want me to fall to my death? Because that is what will happen without you as my good luck charm.”
You shook your head, taking miniscule steps towards the stairs; away from him. “I’ll be a shining bright good luck charm in the stands. You’ll see me after, at the party.”
“I sure will,” he replied salaciously, but you caught the flicker in his eyes. “Wear a pretty little thing for me?”
“You know I’ll wear jeans.”
“And aren’t they a pretty little thing?” His smile grew more affectionate. “And you look good in anything, Dragă.”
“Sure.” You cleared your throat, stepping more confidently away from him. “See you later, B. Play well.”
“Just for you, baby!”
It was as if he was laying it on even thicker the more you turned his compliments away. While you never got quite used to his outspoken praise, it had been years since you embraced it and stopped fighting him on it – he didn’t seem quite pleased that you suddenly had started. Then again, Barty never liked not getting his way, so it shouldn’t surprise you.
You turned and walked back up the stairs, not turning to see whether he jogged off too or remained watching you like usual; you didn’t feel like having the pieces of your heart jumped on, and both alternatives would have resulted in nothing less.
In the stands, you settled into your usual place by the railing, seated beside Lily and Marlene, who were there to cheer on Dorcas. The two girls were the only Gryffindors you tolerated, not due to any of your own sentiments, but simply as a form of hatred by-proxy from Regulus and Barty – they were also a great opportunity to slowly edge Regulus closer towards reconciling with his brother. Though you knew in your heart that was a slow-and-steady-wins-the-race type of situation.
The game flew by and while you were relatively certain you cheered in the right places and sat with baited breath at the tense moments, you felt you were never truly present. Pandora’s voice in your ears was lulling, allowing your soul to drift out of your body and float up into the skies. You wondered if maybe you should take her up on her offer of teaching you how to meditate. Maybe that is how you end your torture rather than trying to change Barty and Regulus’ ways of being, even if it sent terribly mixed signals.
You were somehow exhausted by the time the whistle blew to announce Slytherin’s victory, despite not having done anything. 
Victory was a guarantee for a rowdy party, which, if you didn’t watch yourself, was a guarantee for mistakes. You could not risk slipping up and confessing your feelings to either boy – though some part of you whispered that perhaps some liquid courage is what you needed to tell them to stop flirting with you.
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If the game had gone by in a blur for you, the party was nothing less. You lost Dorcas to Marlene’s wicked laugh just a few minutes in, and had since drifted between your many groups of friends. Shots with Evan, braiding with Pandora, armwrestling with Emmeline, gossiping with Amelia and Regulus. Throughout the whole night you had managed to keep things light, floating through the crowd and keeping someone by your side at all times. It made it bearable to be near the both of them when you had others to keep up appearances for. It also was a great distraction from the joint envy that bloomed in your heart whenever Barty paraded Regulus around like he ought to.
He tried to parade you too, but you slipped out of his grasp before he ever could.
The closer the night got to being over, the more intimate the atmosphere in the Slytherin common room grew. People migrated from standing around to sitting huddled together, there were quiet conversations and card games instead of yelling and butterbeer pong. There were less of the other house colours, and more of just the familiar greens and faces.
Meaning, it was your cue to slip out and away for a minute.
You, Regulus and Barty always ran off into some corner towards the end to do a debrief of the night, perhaps a bit tipsily. If there was one thing you couldn’t take right now, it would be that.
It was easy to distract the both of them by starting a conversation with Evan and Pandora – whether torture methods has improved or worsened since the dark ages – that would have them in a chokehold. You used the opportunity to slip out through the common room door and walk down the hallway.
It was rare you were grateful for the gloomy dungeons and their cold stonewalls, but this was one such moment. You walked slowly, alone at last, taking deep breaths. Somehow the air felt fresh despite being several metres below ground; anything was better than the stuffy post-party air that clung to the common room.
You let your right hand graze the wall as you walked, texture rough and freezing beneath your fingertips, and tipped your head back with closed eyes. You knew the way like the back of your hand.
At the end of the hall was a rarely-used classroom that functioned more as a storage room these days – your favourite place of refuge. The desk in there was the perfect size to lay down on to close your eyes and relax, feet just barely hanging off the edge. Along the top of the wall was a narrow window that gave an obscured view of the Black Lake, distorted light spilling through to make the most beautiful shapes along the ceiling.
You could stay here and relax and by the time you went back, everyone would have gone off to bed already and you wouldn’t have to face anyone until the morning.
“... Amour?”
You flinched so violently you almost fell off the desk, sitting up by propping yourself onto one elbow and clutching your chest with your other arm. “Gods, Regulus, you cannot fucking sneak up on people like that!”
“Sorry, love.” He offered you a half-hearted smile from where his head popped in through the crack in the door.
Barty’s head appeared just below his, as if he had crouched down to get the comedic angle. “I’m not, what the fuck are you doing here?”
You could hear the light squaffle behind the door as Barty presumably tried to push Regulus aside so he could walk in, while Regulus tried to hold his own to walk with grace. It resulted in them more or less tumbling in, the latter boy straightening up to close the door carefully behind him.
“Whatcha mean?” you asked dumbly, deciding to remain in your half lounged position on the desk at the top of the room.
The boys exchanged a quick look that you didn’t have the time to decipher.
Barty was the one who spoke. “I mean, how come you’re hiding out here? We have very important matters to discuss, you know.”
Your lips tightened slightly. You looked between them quietly while they came up to settle in front of your desk, Regulus deciding to lean his weight against a smaller one behind him while Barty jumped onto it without hesitation, settling into some odd position.
“Needed some fresh air. Party got too hot for me.”
“So you decided to lay down in this dusty room?” Regulus asked humorously, lifting a brow at you.
At the same time Barty commented, “I cannot imagine anything being too hot for you, Treasure.”
You ignored them both, fighting not to meet their eyes. This was going worse than you imagined.
“Sorry, didn’t mean to run off on you.” You aimed for a light-hearted tone, if a bit tired. “Want to do the debrief in here?”
Regulus hummed questioningly, as if he wanted to probe more, but Barty clapped his hands together. “Yes. You’re simply not getting out of this love, lest my bleeding heart become public knowledge as I wail at your absence.”
“Stop it, Barty,” you whispered. He didn’t hear you, in one way or another.
“Okay, so we all agree Dorcas and Marlene are shagging?”
You sit more up at this, realising you truly would be doing the whole debrief here, and that you would thus likely be here for a while. Also well aware that you know more than both of the boys on that matter, as Dorcas' dorm mate. “Well, duh,” you offer. “But did you see anything tonight?”
You look at Barty as he speaks, but can feel Regulus’ gaze burning through the side of your head, and you wish he would stop trying to scrutinise you. You look over to meet his gaze, hoping to give him an I’m fine smile that would divert his attention. However, when his eyes meet yours you see they are sparkling with that mischief that only Regulus can pull off, the kind that is equal parts elegant and dirty. He winks at you, and you really, really wish he wouldn’t. 
You shift your gaze back to Barty, further assuring his claim. “Don’t push it with Cas, though,” you warn. “She will tell you when she feels like."
“But it is so much fun to push it though,” Barty pouted, making his eyes comically big.
“It’s even more fun to not be skinned alive by Dorcas in our sleep.”
“Fine,” he groans, throwing his head back theatrically before settling you with a gaze. “But only because you asked, beautiful.”
You hum noncommitedly, fighting any prickling tears. Don’t be such a fucking twat. Let your friends speak to you. 
“Oh,” Regulus said, as if he just remembered a piece of drama to share. “Amelia flirted with me earlier.”
“She what!?” Barty’s voice was not much unlike a banshee’s. “Have I not made it clear that your arse is off the market?”
Your heart plummeted and you had to fight not to let your shoulders grow into your ears.
“Right?” Regulus said through a laugh. “I think she was just too pissed, though. Would have flirted with anything that walked.”
“What did she say?” you asked somewhat meekly.
“Oh, something about gorgeous curls and tight shirts and whatnot.” Regulus made a waving motion with his hand, as if physically brushing it off. “You know, the usual. Called me baby.”
“Only we get to call you baby,” Barty said through a pout.
We?
“I know, amour, I told her as much.”
Barty nodded emphatically. “Good. I don’t like picking fights with birds, but I would if she can’t keep her hands off the goods.”
Regulus gave his leg a light kick with his own. “Down, boy.”
Your stomach was turning over and you desperately wanted to leave. A comment about being tired and wanting to discuss the rest over breakfast tomorrow died on your tongue when Barty turned his attention to you, pout giving way for a scrutinising look.
“What about you, Dragă? Anyone else flirt with you?”
Any turning in your stomach was replaced by an irritation seeping into your bloodstream, one that had been fighting with heartbreak and anxiety for your attention for almost a month now.
“I don’t see how that’s any of your business, B.” You’re not sure quite what possessed you to say it, but there was no denying your dry tone.
Barty looked equally puzzled, head actually reeling backwards ever so slightly. Still, he pushed his luck. “Am I not allowed to be concerned for my girl?”
You looked at him incredulously. “I am not your girl.” 
That was the whole point. That was the whole heartbreak. That was all you could think about. They were each other’s and you weren’t theirs and you most certainly was not their girl. 
Regulus’ stance shifted quickly, tensing in weariness. “Amour, what he meant–”
“I know what he meant.” You sighed, making no effort to hide your pain anymore. You could not take this. “I know what you both mean.”
“Baby–” Barty began, sliding off of his desk and moving towards you, but you cut him off.
“No! Stop it, Barty, please.” He looked as if you had punched him. “I can’t take it anymore, I’m sorry. I am so, so happy for you and I’m glad you’ve found each other like that. But now that you have, I just can’t take you flirting with me or, or doing the play pretend. It’s not fun anymore.”
The room was laid in silence. 
You had been defiantly staring at the wall behind them both, but after practically being able to hear the crashing out in their minds, you slid off your own desk and made your way towards the door without sparing them a glance. “I need a moment.”
“No, no, hey, hey, hey,” Barty chanted as he ran up behind you, hand circling loosely around your wrist. Enough to ground you, but not enough to trap you should you want to wrestle free. He slowly came up around your stopped form. “Shit, Y/N, I–” This time he cut himself off, running his free hand through his hair and looking over at Regulus, whose footsteps you could hear stop right behind you. 
You stared at the door over Barty’s shoulder. This was your worst nightmare.
“Amour, we’re sorry,” Regulus whispered behind you. His hand came up to ever so slightly trace the side of your arm.
You felt ganged up on where you stood between them and you cursed your body for loving it, even as they were rejecting you more explicitly than ever. “It’s alright. It’s not your fault that you don’t– you know.”
“No, no, no,” Barty chanted yet again, hands coming up to grasp both of your cheeks and bruising away a few tears you only now realised had fallen. You would never stop revelling at how Barty’s touch could be so painfully gentle even when his voice was frantic and passionate. “That’s exactly it, Dragă, we do. We do. I do.”
You met his eyes and furrowed your brows at him. “Barty, I don’t think you understand what I’m saying.”
He had the audacity to laugh quietly at you. “I don’t think you understand what you’re saying. In what world could I, Barty Crouch Junior, not be obsessed with you?”
“Lovely girl,” Regulus whispered as he inched forward into your field of vision, hand growing more confident in its touch on your arm. “I’m sorry, we’ve gone about this all wrong. We realised it quickly, but didn’t know how to fix it. The whole... getting together part happened naturally between Barty and I, and we figured it would with you too immediately after, but it proved, uh, more complicated.”
At last, your brain caught up with you, and your instinctive reaction was to jerk backwards out of both of their grasps, not even feeling the impact of your back hitting the desk behind you. Both boys hissed at the thump that sounded.
You finally looked at both of their eyes and found layers of insecurity and guilt there, along with… 
“Are you saying…” you started, but trailed off, unsure how to formulate the words.
“I’m obsessed with you, consumed by you, enthralled by you, whatever word you please, it’s yours. I’m yours.” Barty’s face was almost impassive despite the volumes behind his confession. More tears welled in your eyes, by confusion still more than any relief – you didn’t dare feel that yet.
“What he’s saying is that – well, that we love you.” Regulus smiled and you saw the quiver of his lips at the unfamiliar words.
You let out a half-choked sound. “I don’t understand? But then why– how come–” 
Regulus took a careful few steps towards you once more, hand held out between you in a show of safety. “Even as it happened, I remember thinking you would laugh at us for it. Really what happened a month ago was just that we didn’t really think at all.”
“Which you rightfully accuse us of a lot,” Barty added.
“Right. Barty and I were together and drunk and that tension we’ve all had, I guess it finally spilled over for us. By the time we had admitted our feelings physically, we didn’t really need words for it, which is what we both struggle with the most. And you weren’t close by to be dragged into it. When we told everyone we hoped to just… smoothly join you in. Wouldn’t be difficult right, it’s always been the three of us anyway?”
“Turns out it’s not so bloody simple,” Barty grumbled.
By this point, tears were streaming clearly down your face. Regulus reached out a hesitant thumb to wipe them away. “We were stupid, amour. And by the time we got our wits about us, we didn’t know how to reign you in, other than by… continuing being us. Us three.”
“How could I feel like it was us three when it was so clearly you two?” you all but sobbed.
Barty had grown too impatient by Regulus’ easing you in and closed the gap in two long strides, grabbing at your hand fiercely. “You couldn’t, we were just stupid wankers and absolute boys. You’re perfect, it’s not your fault you fell in love with us sods.”
You laughed a bit wetly, bringing grins out on both of their faces. “Bold claim you have there,” you said, some teasing making its way into your voice.
“But an accurate one?” Regulus’ tone was void of humour, just quiet and nervous and hopeful.
“Of course,” you breathed and Barty’s hands tightened around yours. “I always thought it was us three… when it seemed like it was just you two, I– I didn’t really know what to do with myself.”
“So you ran and you hid,” Barty concluded with a nod. Upon your almost offended expression he hastily added, “as is understandable, and as asserted, we are wankers and you are perfect.”
“Stop saying that,” you whispered.
“But it’s true,” Regulus added in the same cadence. Then, a sparkle settled in his eyes as he regarded you. “Can I prove it to you?”
Your breath hitched at the implication but you nodded, ever so hopeful smile growing on your face. You dared tighten your own hold on Barty’s hands – they were delightfully warm.
Regulus’ smile matched yours and he took a final step towards you to bring the two of you together. His lips covered yours in the sweetest of kisses, slow and smooth and exactly how you had guiltily pictured. He breathed in as he kissed you and you felt the air move across your skin, tickling and tingling. When he pulled back he pressed a quick kiss to your cheek too.
“This whole thing should have never played out this way,” he started. “But this is exactly where I always wanted to end up.”
Barty bumped lightly into both of you, giving you a conspiring smile. “It’s true – he tried to brag to me that he had been picturing us three together since fifth year, which is embarrassingly late for him. I’ve pictured this since the fifth week of knowing you both.”
You huffed a laugh, feeling your entire face still burning from the confessions, neck aching from the whiplash and lips tingling from the kiss. “Then you’ve both got eons on me. I only really realised, like, last term.”
“See, that’s because you are sane,” Barty provided, circling his arms around your hips to pull both you and Regulus closer to him. “A sane beautiful girl who balances us out perfectly and who completes my heart.”
“One we will spend eons making up lost time with,” Regulus added somewhat cheekily. 
You brought your hands up to properly wipe at your face, hoping to remove redness and giddiness with the wet. “It’s barely been a month.”
“A month you spent confused and hurt, Dragă. That cannot slide. I would have hexed anyone else who did that to you.”
“No one else could have broken my heart,” you said then, intending it to be romantic.
The horrified looks on their faces said otherwise. “You were heartbroken?” Barty exclaimed in intense frustration, pulling his wand up and handing it to Regulus. “Reggie, baby, I need you to Avada me right now. Use my wand so they can’t trace you and send you to Azkaban, because you need to be her personal servant to repent for us.”
“Barty!” you laughed, quickly plucking the wand out of his hands before any shenanigans could occur. “It’s fine, really–”
“Nope, absolutely not,” he cut you off. “I must fix this. Kiss it better?”
Before you could even really respond he brought his hand up to the back of your neck, pulling your face gently albeit quickly towards his. Millimetres before his lips could crash with yours, though, he paused. Giving you the opportunity to back down. His thumb was ghosting carefully across the baby hairs at the nape of your neck.
With a delighted sigh, you leaned your chest against his and brought him the final way in for the kiss.
His lips were softer than they looked, fitting exactly within the narrative that usually followed your relationship with Barty. He quickly opened them for you, bringing your bottom lip in between yours and kissing you passionately, tongue sliding over delicate skin. One of your hands curled into his shirt by his collar, wand long since discarded on a desk, while the other found Regulus’ neck, massaging it not much unlike Barty did with yours.
Barty’s skillful lips trailed happy kisses along your jaw, turning into a smile at the breathy laugh that escaped you at his ministrations. 
Your eyes met Regulus while Barty practically attempted to bury himself beneath your skin, smiling and sighing against you – kissing it better. The former boy’s smile was at its widest and most sentimental, encircling the both of you within his arms.
“Y/N,” he said, almost seriously. “We will do right by you, as we always should have. I’ll start by asking, will you please legitimise our feelings by becoming our girlfriend?”
Before you could reply, Barty added against your neck, “And will you please take back your demand we stop flirting with you, because I don’t think I can.”
You were afraid your smile was almost dreamy – everything you believed out of reach just a few minutes ago was not quite literally cradled in your arms. “You are both so unbelievable. Yes, I’ll happily be your girlfriend and yes you may flirt with me.”
Barty popped his head back up from your neck, lips somewhat swollen despite being stretched wide. “Fucking finally.”
“You say that as if I was the one holding back,” you teased, poking him in the chest.
“And while I will lay down and take a sword to the chest for ever believing I was not mad about you,” Barty began. “I think there is also something to be said about little miss run away and completely shut away any and all feelings and compliments.”
You hummed as if in thought. “No, I don’t think so.”
Regulus snorted in that way he only ever did around you two. Then, he reached out and gave you two, three kisses in a row, grinning all the while. “Sorry,” he mumbled. “Too cute.”
Barty, tactile as ever, was cradling your cheek in his hand, tracing the side of your nose with his index finger. “I want the court to know that I am absolutely mad about Regulus,” he started, smiling all the while. “But it was always you too, silly.”
Emboldened, you leaned forward and gave him a sweet kiss. “Glad to know it.”
“Now let’s make sure everyone else does too, yeah?”
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alyssamae27 · 3 days ago
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being obsessed with the marauders is so fun because it just looks like i have a hyperfixation on celestial bodies (the sun, moon, and stars) but really its two brothers where one fell in love with the moon, and the other with the sun
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juniorlore · 6 hours ago
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he tried to wear contacts once but accidentally bought coloured ones that made his eyes like bright red and then struggled to get them out for over an hour and had to beg regulus to help
hc that barty has really bad eyesight but he refuses to wear glasses because "it ruins his look"
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daddiesdrarryy · 3 days ago
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Sirius: Very nice, Prongs. I can’t believe you lied to my brother. How can you do that? That’s the worst thing you’ve ever done to Reggie
Barty: That’s the nicest thing he’s ever done to your brother actually
Sirius: …
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noblehouseofgay · 3 days ago
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They can never ever make me hate you barty crouch jr and Evan Rosier
I'm absolutely obsessed with you
Completely
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aidyaiden · 1 day ago
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thanks for the tag!!
tags :) @siriusly70s @will--byers @autistic-katara @trans-lobotomy @weee-clizzy
Blorbo Poll
Rules: make a poll with five of your all-time favourite characters and then tag five people to do the same. See which character is everyone's favourite.
Tagged by @powersuitup. Probably very predictable picks for anyone who knows me but whatevs.
NP tagging @tweetthang96, @coolnerdyrn, @kayliemalinza, @raaorqtpbpdy, and @thephilosophersapprentice.
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until-the-house-shakes · 2 days ago
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Break Up Socmed AU part 29
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Part 28 / Part 30
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ellecdc · 2 days ago
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I’ve been leaving you all hanging with no fics lately I’m sorry; to apologize, I’ll give you this weird little idea @unstablereader and I spiralled over
Pairing: James x reader? Darksun x reader? Idk
CW: vampirism, half-breed? like one parent is a wix and the other was a vampire, mentions of blood
So reader is part vampire, Keke found this from potter Wikipedia
“part vampire-witches live about the same time as normal wizards and witches”
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So then we thought about an old fic of mine where barty carries lollies on him because he was trying to quit smoking but now he’s just addicted to cigarettes and sugar. But we thought about him carrying blood ones for reader
We were imagining this with James x reader, so Evan or Sirius try stealing one from Barty’s rucksack but accidentally take one of the blood ones - they’re gagging and sputtering, reader is cackling at their expense, and Barty is PISSED because those were for treasure!!
So reader waves him off and goes “I’m ok barty, I’m all topped up”
And he’s like “yeah? 🤨 when’s the last time you fed?” And she just reaches over and pulls the collar of James uniform down to show two pinprick bite marks. James hardly flinches at any of the chaos either he’s just eating breakfast
Keke said: "is this why you're so chipper?? Is there so much serotonin in his blood that it's contagious?!?"
I said: “Is there so much serotonin in his blood that it’s contagious?!” And then suddenly he wants to try it and omg barty has a blood kink
Keke: "and that's how we became a throuple"
Anyways, sorry about the lack of updates: by the end of this week I’ll only have one more exam that I’m not too stressed over so hopefully there will be more time for writing 🫶
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platonicmoonwater00 · 1 day ago
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the fact that this is during literal death eater meetings and not like transfiguration makes this 10 times funnier
evan, barty, and regulus would always get made to sit on opposite sides of the room during death eater meetings because they'd start giggling at the most stupid times, come up with the dumbest strategies, and barty kept trying to sit on evan's lap
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crescenthistory · 1 day ago
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hiiii, i love ur writing sm especially barty
i wanted to request the prompt "when did you realise you love me/her/him?" and barty basically feels insecure something like that so he wants reassurance from reader
thank youu
thank you for being patient with this one babe, it's one of my oldest requests:,) i have hijacked it into poly!bartylus but the main focus is still on comforting barty my babyboy
Prompt: B.13 "When did you realise you love me/her/him?"
Words: 2k
Warnings: fem!reader, not proofread, established poly relationship, heavy allusion to the terrible crimes of barty crouch sr (also known as implied abuse), freeze mode, mental health struggles, hurt/comfort, reg and reader teaming up, flirting and bickering in french and romanian
Note: this is very much cradling-y and soft. i love them, your honour.
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It was always either or with Barty.
It was either the wicked grins, the booming laughter, larger than life presence with a silver tongue and tactile hands – or the impassive face, stoic demeanor, quiet voice. Either the big swings or the straight spine. Mad or measured.
It was absolutely lovely to be with him on his 'either' days, but it was the 'or' days that truly solidified your love for him. Making him understand as much was part of the challenge, but never straying from one was part of what brought you together.
It didn’t hurt that you now had backup.
“Did you hear what she said, amour?” Regulus murmured into Barty’s hair. 
The three of you were huddled up in the corner of the common room sofa where your extended friend group had decided to spend their evening. Throughout the day, Barty had been growing quieter, mask around his features tightening in a way you always envisioned was physically painful. 
He sat by the armrest of the sofa with you half in his lap while Regulus was perched on that very armrest. Originally the latter boy had been immersed in his book, planning on ignoring the lively chatter and disappearing into his own world – his version of unwinding. You had been ignoring the chatter as well, except it was in favour of coaxing Barty – your Barty, the one you knew was being hidden away – out of his shell. When you realised it was particularly hardened tonight, you lightly knocked into Regulus’ knee with your ankle from where it was perched across Barty’s lap.
Luckily one glance with the boy was enough to make him catch your drift; a practiced dance you more than happily fell into.
“Hm?” Barty’s voice was distant, absentminded.
You continued stroking patterns over his heart, your finger separated from his skin only by the thin material of his shirt. Repeating movements, grounding movements. “I asked if you wanted to head back to your dorm?”
He didn’t meet your eyes, training them on the fireplace instead. “Not tired.”
“Mhm, me neither darling. Just want to be with you alone.” 
He tensed almost imperceivable beneath your hands. “Why?” he asked in a careful, measured voice.
“Miss you,” you whispered, pressing a firm but gentle kiss to his cheek. “Want to be with you. Is that okay?”
By now you knew that when Barty was disappearing into the rabbit hole that was his mind, short, affirming sentences were the way to go. Eliminate any possibility of worry before it could arise, all while giving him space to pull away should he feel too spooked.
“Yeah,” he said hoarsely.
He made no move to get up, but that was alright by you. After carefully detangling your limbs, you reached out your hand for Barty to take. Relief washed over you when he did, immediately letting your thumb stroke over the back of his hand.
Regulus bid the others goodnight while you and Barty went ahead. You knew he would be quietly communicating to Evan that you three would need a moment alone and that you would most certainly be spending the night.
When Barty was in a crumbling state, he reverted to automatic movements, and thus his descending the stairs went quickly. You almost had to run to keep up with his long legs, but while you other days would have jokingly chastised him for it, maybe even send a stinging hex his way, you only made your best efforts to keep up with him.
Once, you could not have imagined how soft you would become around him. Perhaps undeservedly, you had not considered yourself capable of complete love, always suspecting there must be some inherent selfishness in you that would shine through and ruin whatever good you tried to claw at. Barty had been the first to prove that wrong in you; when he struggled, it was like a calm softness washed over you and there were no hesitations, no ego, just him. 
You had not had the time to close the door to the boys’ dorm before Regulus slipped through it with his own soft smile that seemed to tell the exact same story as yours.
Hand still in Barty’s, you led him to Regulus’ bed, knowing he usually felt more comfortable there. Sliding in, you made yourself comfortable and formed the perfect Barty-sized spot beside you, but not tugging him in. His autonomy was the most important in these moments.
“Do you want to lay down, B?” you asked gently.
He looked between you and Regulus, and already you could see more of himself in his eyes, though they were clouded with an anxiety no one but you two could recognise. “Don’t you want to lay down, Reg?”
“I do. After you, though.”
“It’ll be more comfortable without me. I can head to mine.” His voice was void of emotion, but his eyes betrayed him. 
Regulus met him head on. “I would not be comfortable knowing you were two metres away and not cuddling with us, love.”
“Why?”
“Because I love you.”
“Why?”
You sighed, but did not let your reassuring smile drop. “If you want to lay down my love, please do. I want you here.”
Barty shifted his gaze to yours and you could visibly see his resolve crumble. He shucked off his uncomfortable trousers and slid under the covers beside you, tense body all hard edges against your own. Almost gingerly, he placed his head beside yours and you reached up to cradle it – he immediately leaned into your touch.
Regulus easily laid down beside Barty, the three of you having the method of how to comfortably fit on the dorm beds down to a T. “Mind if I hold you, Barty?”
“You don’t have to,” he whispered.
“Do you mind if I do?” Regulus’ voice was dripping in affectionate patience.
You could barely hear Barty’s no, but you both did. Regulus let his arms slide around Barty’s middle, shifting him so he laid more sideways and could be pulled closer to Regulus’ chest. In turn you nuzzled further into his front, cocooning him between you where you knew without a doubt that he would be safe and loved. All you wanted for him
“Do you still wonder why?” you asked after a minute of silence and settling into each other.
Barty actually met your eyes, though there was hesitance there. “What do you mean?”
“When Regulus said he loves you, you asked why. Now that we’re comfortable, do you still wonder?” 
Barty nodded, almost imperceivably. You tilted your head upwards to press a soft kiss to his chin as it moved.
“Then let me first ask you this,” you said with practiced ease. This strategic layering of love and affection was your favourite way to ease him back into himself, to replace the harsh voices in his head with softer ones – preferably yours and Regulus’. “When did you realise you love Regulus?”
To your glee, the corners of Barty’s lips quivered into a small smile. “First year. He tried to help me change the sheets on my bed and was blabbering on in true Regulus fashion. It should have been annoying, but he was so cute.”
You snuck another kiss to his chin. “And me?”
The smile continued to grow, though his voice remained low. “After about a month of knowing me, you claimed you knew me. I checked you on it and turned out you actually did. You listened. I didn’t think you would.”
“You didn’t have to think at all about that. It just came to you,” you observed with a mirroring smile. Regulus hooked his chin over Barty’s shoulder to watch you deconstruct it for him, placing a firm hand over Barty’s heart to help ground him as you spoke. “It’s no different for us. There is no need to think or consider or wonder; we just do. We just love you.”
Barty’s face gave nothing away just yet, but he was softening beneath your touch, tension seeping away and into the mattress with each spoken word. “I love you, Barty, because you’re Barty. On your loud days and your quiet days, in your confidence and in your insecurity.” You began tracing his face with your index finger carefully, taking his lack of flinching as a positive sign. “There is no reason for it and there are a hundred. You contain multitudes and I love each and every one.”
“And,” Regulus added in a conspiring whisper. “You happen to not look half-bad.”
At last, a small laugh escaped Barty, though it sounded painfully choked. You nuzzled into the underside of his jaw with a sigh. “I realised I love you Barty when you had just made some awful move at me – I think you asked if I got a permission slip from Dumbledore to ‘burn the school down with my hotness’. And despite it being cheesy and silly, I liked it. I laughed. Because it was you.”
“‘S not awful,” Barty murmured then, looking at you with an incoming cheeky glint in his eye. “I was just speaking the truth.”
“And see, even now when I am being so sweet, you are silly, and yet I have no complaints.”
“Because you love me?” Barty asked carefully.
“So much.”
His eyes flickered over your face, settling for a moment on your smiling lips. You took the opportunity to lean forward and kiss him firmly – grounding him with your lips, pouring your love into him through the slow, careful movement.
You leaned your forehead against his as you pulled away and felt your heart settle when he returned the touch in full, weight lax at last. Regulus’ curls teased your nose as he kissed carefully along the back of Barty’s neck.
“Je t'aime. Je t'aime tellement, mon chéri, tu dois le savoir.” Regulus whispered against Barty’s skin, and you saw how the latter melted into him at the words despite you having no idea what they meant – apart from the first ones. You had both heard enough je t'aime’s to sustain you for a lifetime, yet you always wanted more.
“No fair pulling out your French to make me feel loved, it’s literally a romantic language,” Barty complained half-heartedly, fooling nobody.
“What’s romantic is that you learned French for me,” Regulus mumbled against him with a knowing grin. “Another reason to love you.”
Barty scoffed. “I didn’t learn French for you, I learned it because of you. Couldn’t have you knowing a language I don’t.”
“Of course, that would just be abhorrent,” you teased, to which Barty just hummed in agreement, as if that was plain obvious.
“Multumesc, iubirile mele,” Barty whispered then.
“Had to one-up Reggie on the use of foreign languages in bed?” You lifted your eyebrow at him, but stroked along his cheekbone carefully in case it was too soon to joke.
“It’s not difficult, the sod only knows two.” Clearly not too soon to dish out jokes at least.
“Hey!” Regulus stage-whispered in faux offense, lightly nipping at the side of Barty’s neck. The squeal and subsequent giggle sealed the deal of cracking open his shell. “Here I am trying to take care of you, and what do I get for it.”
“Endless love and adoration.” Barty tipped his head back to kiss Regulus lightly on the lips, the latter humming against him. You snuck another one for yourself, feeling warmth spread to your fingertips.
“I said thank you,” Barty said then. “In romanian.”
“There is nothing to thank us for, B.” You kissed along his cheek, unable to hold back any of it now that you were sure he was conscious enough in his body to be okay with you touching him like this. Though he often reminds you he is always okay with that.
“Oh, Dragă, while I hate to tell a beautiful girl that she’s wrong; you’re absolutely wrong about that.” This time he chased your lips for a searing kiss. “There are endless things to thank you for.”
“Settle for another kiss?”
“Gladly.”
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ohgodwhatdoiputhere · 3 days ago
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imagine the marauders in fifth year getting drunk for the first time
sirius: crying on the corner
remus: dancing without music
peter: making out with some random person
james: GUYS I LOVE YOU SO MUUUUUCH
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