#Give me an emotional Barty

[leilohsstupidgaystuff]

I love everything about this.

knew - @rosekillermicrofic - word count: 215

“He doesn’t know your favorite color.”

Evan looked up from his book, shocked to see an emotional-looking Barty staring at him from the doorway for their dorm. “Hmm?” he asked, a bit nervously. Barty was never emotional.

“Adam. Your boyfriend,” Barty said the last word like it was dirty. “He asked me just now if I knew your favorite color.” He looked horrified. Disturbed. Like this piece of news was life-changing.

“A-alright,” Evan nodded, confused, trying to figure out the punch line. “And..?”

“And you’ve been dating for months, Rosie! Months! And he didn’t know your favorite color?” Barty cried, his chest heaving, eyes wild. “I know! I know your- your favorite color, and how you take your tea, and I know that you prefer to do your Potions homework on Wednesdays because you think Potions and Wednesdays are the same color for some reason! But your fucking boyfriend didn’t even bother learning your favorite color?”

But Even sensed that there was something more there. Something he was trying to say. “So?” he asked softly, heart beating rapidly.

“So how are you with him?” Barty asked, shrinking down, anger dissipating from his body, resignation replacing it. “How are you with him and not me?”

“I…” Evan trailed off, hardly believing his ears. “I didn’t know.”

[ohalleyrose]

attention · @rosekillermicrofic · rosekiller · wc: 246

“Do you still love me?”

Evan put the pencil down on the sketchbook and took off an earpiece to make him know he was listening.

“Of course I do.”

After every argument, Barty would ask him that question, and Evan always gave the same answer. Evan didn't mind repeating himself, though. He was aware that Barty actually knew what his response would be. He just needed reassurance, to confirm Evan hadn't grown tired of his unfounded and unfair reproaches, his irritating sarcasm, and his drastic mood swings. Barty was emotional, impulsive, headstrong and careless. His words shot to kill when he was mad. And yet, Evan found it as easy to love him as it was to breathe.

“Can I watch you draw?”

“Sure,” Evan said as he stretched out an arm to make room for Barty next to his chest. “Come here.”

Barty snuggled under his arm and settled his head softly on his shoulder. His breathing sounded so calm now no one would have guessed that, just a few minutes ago, he had suffered from one of his outbursts because he couldn't stand Evan giving his attention to someone other than himself.

“I'm trying,” he muttered, uneasiness showing in his voice.

“I know,” Evan left a soft kiss on his temple and smiled when Barty let out a content hum. “I know, love.”

“It's just..." Barty hugged his torso a bit tightly. “I wouldn't make it alive if you left.”

Evan chuckled, his eyes still focused on the drawing while he shaded some parts of it.

“Good thing I'm not leaving, then.”

[agreeewrites]

Baby I'm Yours | B.C.J.

feat. Barty Crouch Jr x blackcat!reader

summary: your new boyfriend Barty tells you he loves you, and you…freak tf out (even though you do, in fact, love him too).

cw: MDNI 18+, smut, established relationship, drinking, you are both possessive and mildly toxic, emotional vulnerability (eugh), love confessions, hurt/comfort, hard kinks, choking

an: can be read as a stand-alone, but hits better as part 2 of this fic

masterlist

Barty's POV

“Oi, Crouch!”

Barty looked up from his sketchbook, propped in his lap to keep him occupied while he waited in the courtyard for you and Evan to get out of Defense Against the Dark Arts. Xeno was running towards him down the corridor, robes flapping wildly in his haste.

Barty could practically smell trouble, and it made his heart kick with excitement.

“To what do I owe the pleasure, Xenophi—”

“Cut the shit. Y/n is dueling,” Xeno snapped, grabbing Barty by the collar and dragging him from his perch in one of the stone openings.

“Oh! Is she winning?” Barty asked, falling into a jog beside Xeno.

“Not the point. She's going to get expelled.”

“Like I’d ever let that happen,” Barty chuckled.

They rounded the corner and could hear the shouting before they even reached the classroom. Excitement raced under his skin, and he all but kicked down the door in his haste to get to you.

You were up on a desk, robes discarded, absolutely pummeling Amacus Carrow with hexes. Amacus was hidden behind and overturned desk, lamely tossing expelliarmus over his shoulder.

The students formed a ring around you both, roaring with excitement while the Professor tried desperately to talk you down.

Barty skirted around the edge of the group towards you, finding Evan standing just beneath you, watching with a wild grin.

“She's a fucking menace,” Evan cackled, and Barty had to agree.

A vicious, beautiful little menace.

“What'd he do?” Barty asked, watching you dodge a hex effortlessly and throw one back in the same second. His heart was pounding, affection making his blood race. Saints, his cock was damn near about to rip through his trousers he was so fucking turned on.

“He called you a buffoon. And said your tattoos were ugly,” Evan said, cheering when you hit Amacus’ table so hard with stupify it cracked. “I was going to intervene, but she hit him with a book before I even got a word out.”

Barty was going to faint if anymore blood vacated his brain.

He spun a chair around and stepped up onto the table beside you. “Hello, treasure. Chose violence, did we?” You squeaked in surprise when he looped an arm around your waist, spinning you around and plucking your wand from your fingers.

“Barty!” You protested, trying to grab your wand back. “Give me that!”

Amacus, realizing you were disarmed, popped up from behind his desk.

“Ah, ah,” Barty waggled your wand at the perspiring wretch. “She may have the restraint to avoid Azkaban, but I have no such compunction, Carrow.” He gestured to Amacus’s spindly wand. “Rosier will take that, if you please.”

Evan had appeared beside Carrow, holding out his hand expectantly. Carrow dropped it into Evan's palm, red-faced and sputtering.

“Barty,” you said again, voice pitching lower with agitation.

He pressed an appeasing kiss to the crown of your head, handing you your wand back. “I think you've made your point, love,” he said. “Unless you'd like to make a fugitive out of me.”

You blew a strand of hair from your face, scowling at Amacus as he fled the room with his twin in tow. “I suppose not,” you huffed. “But if he runs his fucking mouth again—”

Barty pecked your lips, unable to resist your sharp tongue for another second. “He's a dead-man walking, hm?”

A smile pulled at the corners of your mouth, and your shoulders finally softened. “Something like that.” You rose up onto your toes and kissed him again, his heart pounding against his ribs like it was trying to burst out of his chest to get to you.

Barty helped you down from the table while the rest of the students filed out, grumbling that their bloodbath was cut short. The Professor tried to step up to you, face purple with indignation, but one glare from Barty had them backing off, throwing their hands up in defeat.

“Are you alright, though? He didn't get you?” Barty tilted your chin up, turning your pretty face to the right, then the left to check for damage.

“Not once,” you smirked, and his chest swelled with pride.

“That's my girl,” he cooed, leaning down to draw you in for another, more heated kiss. He swiped his tongue across your lower lip, tasting your cherry lipgloss, before kissing down your neck, wallowing in the sweetness of your perfume, the warmth of your skin. “S’why I love you so much.”

As soon as it slipped out, he felt you stiffen, withdrawing slightly from him. He hadn't meant to say it, though he'd felt it long before you were official, but he couldn't bring himself to regret it.

He pulled his head back, finding your eyes wide, kiss-stung lips parted in shock. A deer in headlights.

“D-did you just—” you stuttered. He could feel your heart fluttering like a hummingbird under his fingertips. “Y-you love me?”

He smiled, something tender unfurling in his chest. “I do, very much,” he murmured, softening his voice like he was speaking to a frightened animal.

“Bat, I—” you words caught in your throat, and a flicker of hope kindled in his heart. “I have to go.” You turned heel and dashed out of the classroom, nearly taking out Evan and Xeno, who were pretending not to listen by the door.

They grimaced, approaching Barty cautiously.

“Sorry, mate,” Xeno said, clapping him on the shoulder.

“Why?” Barty asked, shouldering your bag that you abandoned in your haste.

“Because she—mate, are you with us?” Evan waved a hand in front of his face.

Barty smacked his hand away. “I’m fine, I knew she wasn't going to say it back,” he shrugged.

Sure, it would have been amazing if you said it back, but you didn't have to say it for him to know it was true. He knew you struggled with big displays of emotion, and he wasn't about to goad you into saying something you weren't ready to.

He knew you felt it. You told him with every kiss, every touch, every gesture, from softly tracing his tattoos while you cuddled, to picking fights in the middle of class to defend his honor. Barty knew the truth, and you'd realize it on your own soon enough.

Xeno and Evan were looking at him like he had three heads.

“So why did you say it?” Evan asked.

“Because I felt it?” Barty didn't understand why they were so confused. He’d always worn his heart on his sleeve with you, and that wasn't about to change just because you were finally together. He knew you liked to have all the cards before you made a decision, and now you did.

“But she like, freaked out,” Xeno said, like Barty couldn't practically read the thoughts flying through your mind. “That doesn't worry you?”

Irritation curled along his spine, sharpening his tongue. “I’ve got it under control, Lovegood,” he bit. “Don't strain yourself pretending to give a fuck.”

“Junior—” Evan started.

“Are we ready for dinner? I'm starved,” Barty chirped, uprooting the conversation, and the seed of doubt it was planting in his mind.

Reader’s POV

You sat curled in your bed, staring at the emerald curtain separating you from the rest of the dorm. Barty's words echoed in your mind, ricocheting painfully against your skull.

I love you so much.

I love you so much.

I love you so much.

With every repetition came the same cycle of feelings: terror, elation, guilt, and terror again. You cared for Barty, Merlin, did you care for Barty. It ate you up inside, all the feelings you had for him. Drove you half-mad most of the time.

He was your favorite person, your comfort and your home. You wanted to be with him all the time, and you never wanted to be with anyone.

But love? It seemed impossible, enormous. You choked on it, drowned under it. And though it sounded so sweet on his lips, you just couldn't say it back, and it was tearing you up inside.

You knew how deeply his abandonment wounds went, how sensitive he was to rejection, and you never ever wanted to hurt him that way again. Especially not when he'd brought nothing but wonder and excitement into your life.

He didn't seem particularly upset, but you'd run off so quickly, you weren't sure how he'd actually taken it. For all you knew, you'd shattered his heart, and he'd never want to see you again.

Oh fuck, what if he was if was going to break up with you?

A fresh wave of terror clutched your heart, and you cuddled your stuffed cat closer, praying you hadn't fucked this up.

“Y/n?” Pandora called gently, peeling open your curtain to peek at you. “Barty’s here. Looking rather…fretful.”

Shit, shit, shit. He was here to dump you. This was it.

You stuffed your kitty under your pillows and pushed yourself into a sitting position, wiping at your tear-streaked cheeks. “Let him in,” you mumbled.

Pandora nodded, stepping back, and Barty’s head poked through, dark brows pulled together in concern.

“Oh, baby,” he sighed, taking in your probably pitiful state. “Can I come in?”

You nodded, scooching over so he could climb into your bed. He immediately enveloped you in his arms, cuddling you into his chest. Cigarette smoke clung to his clothes and hair, mixing with the faded traces of his familiar cologne, and it immediately soothed some of your panic.

He was here, and he didn't hate you.

Barty’s heart thumped steadily under your cheek as he peppered kisses along the crown of your head, his hand slipping under your hoodie, well, technically his hoodie, to brush against your skin. He was unusually quiet, his movements slow and gentle.

After a few minutes of loaded quiet, you couldn't hold your tongue any longer.

“I’m really sorry, B,” you mumbled, tracing the lines of the tattoo on his chest peeking through his half-buttoned shirt.

“For what, tres? You did nothing wrong,” he shushed you, squeezing you tighter.

You sniffled, tears springing to your eyes.

He shifted, turning so you were beneath him and he was looking down at you. “Have you spent the last few hours thinking you did something wrong?” He asked, looking genuinely distressed at the suggestion.

Your lips folded into a tight line, not trusting yourself to speak, and you nodded.

“Treasure, no,” he gasped, cradling your face and kissing away the tear that rolled down your cheek. “My sweet, darling, gorgeous girl, you did absolutely nothing wrong. I didn't say that under the assumption you'd say anything back. I said it because I wanted to, because I—” the words caught in his teeth, like he had to bite them back before they wrangled out of his control once again.

“I'm just not ready,” you whispered, shame turning your guts to stone.

“And that's okay—hey, look at me.” He brushed his nose against yours, the softest nuzzle. When you managed to drag your eyes to his, you found them so sincere, so warm. “It's okay, baby. I promise.” He held his pinky up, the nail painted to match your manicure, and you curled your pinky around his. “I promise,” he repeated, resting his forehead against yours.

You couldn't help the nervous giggle that bubbled out of you, relief making you giddy. “I thought you were here to break up with me,” you admitted, reaching up to stroke the sharp angle of his jaw, carding your fingers through his wild hair.

“You what?!” Barty cried, rearing back in shock. “I’d sooner cut my cock off. Perish the fucking thought this instant. Baby, I’m yours.” He swung his leg over you, pining you beneath him. “You must never think that again, understand?”

“Bat—”

His fingers slipped under your arms, tickling along your ribs and making you squeal, bucking underneath his hold as you tried to escape. He was grinning like a fool, and only stopped when he managed to catch both your wrists to pin your arms over your head. “I've got you now, babygirl,” he purred, leaning down to whisper against your ear. “And guess what?”

“Hm?” You arched into him, the frantic, ticklish energy quickly morphing into something heady, intoxicating. The cloying heat only Barty could stoke in your belly.

“I love you,” he whispered against your pulse, sealing it with a kiss against the tender skin.

You sucked in a quick breath, heart tripping over itself, and you could tell instantly that he caught it, his lips curling into a smile.

“My darling, I love you so much.” He licked a stripe up your throat, the scalding caress of his tongue coaxing an airy whine from your lungs. “My favorite girl.” Kiss. “My most precious treasure.” Kiss. “I’m so in love with you it’s driving me mad—”

“Do you ever stop talking?” You silenced him with a greedy kiss, all teeth and tongue and desperation, elated that he was still yours, that he wanted you, loved you, so deeply. You wanted to devour him whole, never feel, never taste, never know anything but him.

Barty chuckled when you broke the kiss to breathe, releasing your hands so you could grab at his shirt, desperately trying to undo the buttons. He braced his hands against your headboard, letting you paw and take whatever you wanted from beneath him while he watched through lust-fogged eyes.

“You sure act like you love me,” he teased, and you pinched his hip, shooting him a glare.

“I love your dick,” you bit back, palming him through his pants, and finally, he shut the fuck up.

Barty’s POV

The Slytherin common room was raging, flashing green and cloudy with fog, music thumbing through the floor and up Barty's legs.

He was deep in a game of beer pong, absolutely smoking Regulus while a crowd watched on. But mentally, he was plotting his next escape to your dorm, where he'd been periodically bringing you drinks in exchange for kisses while you read your new romance book.

This next time, he’d probably stay with you instead of returning. You were probably starting to feel the effects of both the raunchy writing and the alcohol right about now, and that was a combo he wouldn't dare miss.

Just when he lined up his shot, determined to finish poor Reg off, he spotted you coming down the stairs. Dressed in tattered jeans and a pair of fishnets, one of his Sex Pistols tee's hanging loose on your frame…

He completely whiffed the shot.

He didn't care.

“Treasure!” He cried when you spotted him across the room, and everyone swiveled in surprise.

You sauntered over, a big, melty smile on your face, and threw your arms around his neck.

“Hiii, handsome,” you cooed, pulling him down for a kiss.

He could taste the booze on your breath, syrupy and disorienting. “Made the drinks a little strong, did I?” He chuckled, steadying you with an arm around your waist.

“Whaaat? No, m’fine—Dora!” You suddenly lurched away from him, throwing yourself at your best friend. “I missed you!”

“Hi, love. I missed you more,” Pandora laughed, hugging you back and casting Barty an accusatory glare, though her eyes glittered with amusement.

Barty shrugged and held up two fingers, answering her silent question of how many you'd had.

Pandora's eyes widened and she pointed at herself, then you, then held up two fingers behind your back.

Barty burst out laughing, then cajooled you out of Pandora's arms and back into his. “Baby, have Panda and I both been bringing you drinks?”

You giggled, hiding your face in his chest. “And Evan brought me a shot,” you said.

“He did?!” Barty pretended to be shocked, glancing over at his best friend, who held up his hands in innocence. “So you're right pissed, then.”

You stared up at the ceiling, like you were deeply contemplating this, then slowly lowered your glassy eyes back to his. “Perhaps,” you said carefully, and he snorted a laugh.

Merlin, you were fucking adorable.

“C’mon, Crouch. Game's not over,” Regulus griped.

Barry glanced down at the cups, finding Regulus had sunk two balls while he was distracted. “Guess it's time I catch up,” he hummed, shifting you to his side and taking the two big gulps of stale beer.

You wrinkled your nose in distaste. “I can go get some fresh ones,” you offered, attempting to take a stumbling half-step away from him.

“Nope.” Barty hauled you back into his side, arm bracketed along your lower back. “You're staying right here with me, little lush.”

With you under his arm, he sank his final shot, officially beating Regulus, then whisked you off to the dancefloor to celebrate his victory.

He was in heaven, booze pumping hot and thick in his blood, your body pressed in against his front, writing with abandon to the rock music blaring from the speakers. You looked supremely fuckable, glossed with sweat and starry-eyed, a wild grin on your pretty lips.

He bent down, nosing into your neck while you rolled your hips against his, too drunk to realize what you were doing to him. Or too drunk to care.

“Babygirl, you're killing me,” he purred against your balmy skin, his grip tightening on your hips to stop your movements. “Better stop unless you want me to bend you over the bar right here, right now.”

“Nuh-uhhh,” you whined, spinning in his arms to face him. “M’just dancin’.”

“Sure, sweet thing. And I'm a monk,” he chuckled, watching you press kisses to the inked valley of his sternum, his shirt most of the way unbuttoned by your tricky fingers. You were such an affectionate drunk, but it wasn't often you indulged enough to get drunk in the first place. He groaned when you glanced up at him, round eyes framed by thick lashes, and his cock gave a merciless kick against his trousers.

You grinned, kissing your way up his neck before pecking his lips. The taste of his own sweat on your lips made his mind go dark, lust shredding through the tenuous leash he had himself on.

“Bat,” you murmured, tugging on his chain to get his attention.

“Baby,” he replied, voice rougher than it was moments before.

You kissed him again, tongue dipping past his lips to brush against his before retreating again, taunting him. “Can I tell you a secret?” you whispered.

He nodded, legs locked to keep himself upright.

You cupped your hand around his ear, leaning in close enough that your breath tickled the hair around his ear. “I love you too.”

It was like a bucket of cold water was doused over his head, his heart seizing. Fuck, how amazing the words sounded on your lips, but you were so drunk. Too drunk to know what you were saying, let alone remember it tomorrow.

He knew you loved him, but he didn't want to hear it like this. Not for the first time. He wanted you to say it and mean it, and not need liquid courage to make you feel safe enough to admit it.

“Honey, fuck, I love you so much, but you don't mean that,” he said, gently folding your hands into his and leading you off the dancefloor.

You resisted, pouting. “I do mean it! I love you!”

“Treasure, please—”

“Don’t ‘treasure’ me. I love you, and I'm sorry I didn't say it sooner,” you argued, lips pulling down into a frustrated frown. Then, softer, just for him—“I love you, Barty.”

He winced, like a lance was shoved through his chest. “Stop it, you're drunk,” he said, fighting to keep his voice gentle while he tugged you somewhere quieter.

People were watching, your friends pushing forward to see what the fuss was about, and panic beat like a drum in his head.

“No! Why won't you let me love you?” You yanked your hands out of his hold. “You love me!”

“I do, but you can't—you don't know what your saying, love—” He couldn't the thought of you saying it now and not being able to tomorrow. That maybe you didn't mean it, that you were just telling him what he wanted to hear. False validation hurt far worse than none at all.

“What's going on?” Pandora interjected, stepping between the two of you.

Anger flared hot under Barty's skin. “Fuck off, Pan,” he bit.

“Hey—” Xeno barked.

“Don't fucking start with me, Xe.” Barty stepped up to his friend, ringed fingers curling into a fist. Fucking Xeno, putting doubts in his head…

Evan jumped between them before it escalated further. “Alright, that's enough. This is between Barty and y/n—”

“He upset her!” Pandora argued, her arms wrapped around your shoulders.

“M’fine!” You shot back, jerking out of her arms and nearly sending yourself to the ground.

“You aren't fine,” Barty growled, shoving Evan and Xeno out of the way and catching you before you toppled completely. “You need to go to bed.”

You deflated at his tone, moisture pooling along your lower lashes, and he felt like that biggest ass on the planet. “Why are you so angry with me?” You whispered, and his heart cracked.

“I'm not—fuck, baby. I could never be angry with you.” He pulled you into his chest, wrestling down the hurt churning in his gut. “Let's just get you to bed, yeah? Together?”

You hesitated, contemplating resisting further, but then you nodded, the last of your restraint dissolving from your muscles.

“Barty—” Pandora warned.

“I've got her,” Barty snapped, tightening a possessive arm around your shoulders. “Can you all just fucking trust me for once?”

They all fell quiet, looking back and forth from him to one another. He didn't give them a chance to respond, pushing through the semicircle they made around you and leading you up the stairs.

Neither of you spoke, the silence of your dorm only broken by his shuffling around and your sniffles. He hated himself for making you cry, wanted to tear his hair out and claw off his skin in repentance, but he just couldn't stand hearing you say that and not knowing if you meant it. It was the worst kind of torture.

He helped you into your pajamas and removed your makeup, then tucked you into bed with some water and a hangover cure ready to go on your nightstand.

You snuggled into your pillows, stuffed kitty folded into your chest, and blinked up him with sorrowful eyes. “Will you stay?” You asked, and his heart tried to punch through the wall of his chest.

He sighed. “’Course, love,” he said, pressing a kiss to your temple. He rummaged through your things, finding a pair of his sweatpants, and changed into them before crawling into bed beside you and shutting the curtain.

You nosed into his neck, arms bundled against his chest, and he cushioned your head with his bicep, the other draped over your waist.

“Don't let me ruin this,” you mumbled, voice sleep-addled and sad.

He kissed your forehead, guilt ringing hollow against his ribs. “You couldn't, treasure. You're stuck with me,” he tried to joke, but it was mirthless.

You shook your head, lips brushing along his clavicle, then your breathing deepened, muscles going lax, and you passed out in his arms.

He kissed your head again, nuzzling into your hair, and let his eyes wander to the crack in the curtain, where he knew he'd watch the sunrise in a few hours. Usually, he was able to sleep with you, the warmth and weight of your body soothing his mind enough to let him rest. But he knew there were no dreams waiting for him tonight.

So he'd hold you, and try not to think too hard, and watch the room inevitably fill with light.

Reader's POV

You woke up to an empty bed and a pounding headache, morning sunlight blazing through the gap in your curtain.

“Fuck me,” you groaned, sitting up and grabbing the potion from your bedside table, popping the cork and slamming it back. Immediately, the potion began to work, the sharpness behind your eyes dulling and your stomach settling.

Merlin, how much did you drink last night? You barely remembered anything after dancing with Barty—wait, where was Barty?

You were fairly certain he'd come to bed with you, and found evidence of that in the dented pillow on your left, the smell of his cologne lingering on the fabric.

You remembered him being angry about something, angry with you, but you couldn't remember why, the specific moments slithering through your fingers like silverfish.

You pulled aside your curtain, finding Pandora and Xeno tangled in her bed, Pandora braiding ribbons in her boyfriends platinum waves while he slept.

“Hey,” you croaked.

“Morning, sunshine. You fucked up,” Pandora said, waggling a finger at you.

You groaned, slumping back onto your pillows. “What did I do?”

“Told Barty you loved him. Loudly and in front of everyone.”

Your jaw fell open. No, no, surely you didn't do something so careless? “I couldn't have—”

“You did, and he's losing his mind over it. Been “showering” for about two hours,” Xeno grumbled, shifting a bit on Pandora's chest.

You couldn't believe yourself. That wasn't how Barty deserved to hear that, not after days of patiently waiting for you to pluck up the courage. You had to fix this. Had to make sure he knew the truth, and that it wasn't a drunken mishap, but the truth in your heart.

Throwing your covers off, you slipped out of bed, padding out of the room and sneaking over to the boys dorm.

You bumped into a freshly-showered Evan halfway to the boys bathroom.

“Hey, wait.” He caught you by the wrist. “If you're going in there to hurt him, don't,” he warned, glacial eyes narrowing.

“I'm not, Ev,” you promised.

“Because I like you, y/n. You're the same kind of bitch as me. But if you're fucking with my best mates heart, I'd hate to have to hate you.” He brushed past you, his words hanging heavy in the air.

You tried not to take it personally, Evan and Barty were fiercely protective of each other, but it still stung that he thought you'd intentionally hurt Barty.

Of course you wouldn't, you loved him.

You loved him.

Fuck, you were so stupid.

You pushed into the bathroom, steam thick and tepid. Only one shower was running, gray smoke curling around the gossamer plumes of steam, and the bathroom seemed otherwise deserted.

“Colloportus,” you cast, locking the door behind you. You approached the shower, knocking lightly on the wall. “Bat, you in there?”

An arm shot out from the curtain and yanked you in, pj’s and all.

“Barty!” You crashed into his wet, naked chest, the blast of hot water soaking you.

“Didn't expect you up for hours, drunkard,” he teased, petting the wet hair from your face, but his smile faltered when he noted the absence of yours.

You sputtered a little, trying to regain your resolve despite the shock. “I-I’m really sorry, Barty,” you said, reaching up to cup his face, stroking away the beads of water running down with your thumb. From the red around his eyes, deep purple stains underneath them, it was clear he hadn't slept at all.

“Sorry for what?” He asked, brows drawing together. He was putting on a brave face, but you could tell that you'd hurt him, and it made your heart splinter.

“For telling you the way I did instead of the way I should have.” You brought his hands to the hem of you soaked-through shirt, guiding them to lift it up and over you head, wanting to be as close to him as you could in this moment—no barriers.

“Baby, you don't have to—”

You shimmied your shorts down, the fabric landing with a wet plop on the tile floor. You wrapped your arms around his neck, pressing your body against his, searing heat blooming everywhere your skin touched. “I want to,” you murmured, drawing him down for a feather-light kiss. “I need to.”

He loosed a shaky exhale, eyes flitting nervously over your face while his hands came to a tentative rest on your hips.

You took a deep breath, steadying yourself. “Bartemius Crouch Jr., I love you. I love you more than anything. And I’m sorry—”

Barty turned, crushing you against the wall and stealing the last of your apology with a fervid kiss. “I love you more,” he growled, a visceral purr of approval against your ear. “Not so hard, hm?”

You nodded, a pitiful whine plucked from your throat when his fingers prodded between your legs, wasting no time spreading you open and smearing your slick over his palm.

“My brave girl, I'm so proud of you,” he cooed, sinking knuckle deep into your clenching heat, making you keen. “So good f’me, aren't you?”

“I was just so scared,” you whimpered, hips rocking into his hand as he parted your gummy walls, scissoring you open with a second finger.

“I know, honey. I know you better than anyone,” he murmured, a possessive edge sharpening his voice. “I knew you loved me, just like I knew you wanted me months ago. Before even you did, silly little thing.”

“Yes, Barty—fuck,” you moaned.

He curled his fingers, pressing against the spot that made your knees give out, white blooming behind your eyes. He silenced your cries with his mouth, smothering you while he fucked you with his fingers, the lewd squelch of your pussy barely muffled by the thundering water.

“Say it again,” he gruffed, his free hand coming up to wrap around your throat, holding you up by the febrile column.

“I love you,” you gasped, loosing air as his hand tightened, the heat in your belly building higher and higher, near to combusting.

“Again.”

“I luh—” you wheezed, unable to draw enough air to finish the phrase.

“Heart’s beating so hard, treasure. All for me?”

You nodded, head going fuzzy from lack of oxygen and the looming orgasm, putty in his merciless hands.

His eyes were black, obfuscated with lust and providence, a ferality barely tethered.

You were about to break, dragged roughshod to release, when suddenly his hand retreated, leaving you empty. Gutted.

But then he was pushing inside you, splitting you down the center with his thickness, so full you swore you could taste him in your throat. His grip loosened on your neck, allowing you a swig of air as he groaned, rutting savagely into your softness.

“So fucking tight, little cunt’s like a vice,” he grated, lifting your legs for a deeper angle, leaving you suspended and helpless to receive whatever he gave you. “Gonna come for me, baby? Let me fill you to the fucking brim with my love?”

“Yes, yes, yes,” you babbled, nails dragging down his shoulders as you desperately tried to hold on while the world fell away.

“Go on, tres. Give it to me. Don't hold back.” He huffed into your neck, his thrusts getting rougher, sloppier as he swelled inside of you.

Your orgasm blasted through you, ripping you apart at the seams, and you sank your teeth into his shoulder, muffling yourself as he fucked you through it.

“Fuck, that's it—fucking take it—” his own release slammed into him, and he bottomed out with a punishing snap. You could feel his cock surging against your ruined pussy, filling you completely, body and soul.

His grip on your relaxed as the strength bled out of him, his lips tracing a path up your throat, finding your lips in a lissome, sodden kiss.

“I love you,” you whispered, tears pooling behind your eyes as the onslaught of feeling dissipated.

“I love you,” he replied, peppering kisses all over your face in the way that never failed to make you smile. He set you gently on your feet, an arm around your waist in case you stumbled. “Are you okay, though? Really?”

You nodded, pecking his cheek as you stepped back under the deliciously warm stream of water. “I'm in love, what could be wrong?”

He grinned, blinding as the sun, and scooped you back up in a toothy, buoyant kiss. “Absolutely nothing, my love. Absolutely nothing at all.”

© agreeewrites 2025. do not copy, translate or claim my writing as your own.

[iamgonnagetyouback]

PROMISE ME.⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ㅤㅤ●ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤ J. POTTER

SUMMARY ৎ୭ after sirius runs away, you find yourself breaking down in an empty corridor. james potter isn’t your friend, but he finds you anyway. you don’t ask for comfort—you just ask him to take care of your brother

WARNINGS ಇ. angst, mentions of family trauma, emotional breakdown, abandonment issues, hurt/comfort

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ᡣ𐭩 words.ᐟ 1,004

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ౨ৎㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

The halls of Hogwarts were silent this time of night, the only sound the occasional creak of floorboards or the soft wind brushing against the stone walls outside. James Potter had been patrolling—another night of prefect duty—when he saw a figure slumped near a window, head in their hands.

He wouldn’t have paid much attention, probably would’ve assumed it was someone sneaking out past curfew, but the gleam of dark hair caught his eye. He stopped, his heart sinking. It was you.

You and James weren’t friends. In fact, you weren’t friends with anyone, really, except your own family and some Slytherins like Barty, Evan and Pandora. Most people knew to keep their distance from the Black siblings, pure-blooded and cold. You walked with your chin high, always distant and aloof, like you didn’t care about the world around you.

But now, huddled near the window, your shoulders shook with quiet sobs. James hesitated, unsure if he should leave or approach. He wasn’t used to seeing you like this—broken.

Slowly, he stepped forward. “Hey…”

You didn’t respond. Your sobs didn’t falter, and he suddenly felt out of place. He wasn’t supposed to see this—wasn’t supposed to see you like this. But something inside him couldn’t just walk away.

“Black?” His voice was softer this time, unsure, but you still didn’t move. He took another step closer, and that’s when you finally looked up, eyes red and puffy. There was a desperation in your gaze that caught him off guard, and before he could say anything, you shook your head.

“Please…” your voice was hoarse, a whispered plea. “Don’t look at me.”

James froze. He’d seen people cry before, but never like this. Never someone so proud, so unbreakable, shatter in front of him.

You wiped your face quickly, trying to compose yourself, but it was no use. Your mask had already crumbled. You knew James could see everything now—the pain, the hurt, the cracks in the perfect image of the Black family. And for some reason, that made it worse. He wasn’t supposed to see you like this. No one was.

“Look, I didn’t mean to—” he began, but you cut him off.

“Just… don’t,” you choked out, voice shaky. “Please.”

James swallowed hard, guilt flooding him. He could leave, give you your space like you asked, but something in his gut told him that’s not what you really needed.

“What happened?” he asked softly.

You stiffened, staring down at your hands, the silence stretching unbearably. James was about to give up when you finally spoke, your voice barely audible.

“Sirius… he ran away.”

James blinked, his heart skipping a beat. Sirius had only run away from home a few days ago, but he hadn’t told anyone where he’d gone—only that he’d shown up at the Potter’s doorstep with nothing but the clothes on his back. How did you know?

You must have sensed his confusion because you let out a bitter laugh, though it was tinged with more sadness than anything else. “I know he’s with you.”

James’s throat went dry. Of course you knew. Sirius was your brother, after all. But that didn’t explain why you were crying—why the tough, untouchable Black sister had broken down in the middle of a dark corridor.

“He didn’t even tell me,” you continued, voice wavering. “He just… left.”

The words hit James like a blow to the chest. He’d always seen Sirius as invincible, but to you—his sister—Sirius leaving must have felt like betrayal. Like abandonment. And for the first time, James understood. You were left behind to deal with the mess of the Black family while your brother escaped.

You sniffled, wiping your face again, but this time your hands trembled. “I’m supposed to be the strong one. The one who holds it together. But…” You broke off, biting your lip hard, as if trying to stop yourself from crying more. “But I couldn’t. Not this time.”

James crouched down beside you, unsure of what to say. “It’s okay to not be strong all the time,” he said quietly, surprised at how soft his own voice sounded.

You shook your head, squeezing your eyes shut. “Not for me. Not in my family.”

He understood that. The Blacks had a reputation to uphold—a legacy of power, of purity. Emotions had no place in their world.

But you were just a person. A sister who had lost her brother to a world that wasn’t yours.

“I can’t hate him for leaving,” you whispered, almost to yourself. “I just… I just wish he’d told me.”

James’s chest tightened. “He was probably trying to protect you.”

“I don’t need protecting,” you snapped, though the words came out too broken to sound convincing.

Silence stretched between you, the weight of everything pressing down. James wanted to say something to fix it, but he knew there was nothing he could say. Sirius was gone, and you were left to pick up the pieces.

“He’s going to be okay,” James finally said. “I’ll… I’ll look after him.”

You looked up at him then, eyes glassy but determined. For a moment, the vulnerability vanished, and you were the strong, unshakable Black again. But this time, James saw beneath it. Saw the hurt that came with that strength.

“Promise me,” you said softly. “Promise you’ll take care of him. No matter what.”

James nodded, his voice firm. “I promise.”

Your shoulders slumped in relief, but the sadness in your eyes didn’t fade. You stood slowly, brushing off your robes like nothing had happened, though the cracks were still there, visible to him now.

Without another word, you turned to leave, but before you walked away, you paused, looking back over your shoulder. “Thank you,” you whispered.

James opened his mouth to respond, but you were already gone, disappearing into the shadows of the corridor, leaving him alone with the weight of your words.

He’d keep his promise. For you, for Sirius. Because now, more than ever, he understood just how much it mattered.

©iamgonnagetyouback౨ৎ please refrain from copying, translating, or reposting any of my work.

[moonylvs]

⋆˙⟡ The prophecy

Summary: Your whole life of being ignored in love makes you believe that love will never come for you, so seeing James start dating the only person you thought loved you is too much for you. 'Let it once be me' Pairing: Jegulus x fem!reader Words: 4600 Warnings: Reader is an insecure nerd with a lack of love (she's also oblivious), mentions of crying and self-hatred, use of yn one time, hurt/confort, a bit of angst if you close one eye, slightly suggestive (Nothing explicit), a lot of fluff <3 Let me know if I miss anything!

Since you were little you could not help but feel forgotten, of course there were people who loved you, you were not a complete loser, you had a few friends and had no problems with anyone in your class, but still that painful feeling was still there, your friends had more friends, more friends to spend time with when you were not there, but you did not have so many people to hang out with.

Regulus was the only friend you were really close to, the only one who hadn't moved away over the years, Regulus had more friends, such as Barty or Evan, but he always showed you that you were his priority, including you in all the plans he made, listening to you attentively and never leaving you alone, the boy wasn't good at expressing his emotions, but it was the little details that made you feel his appreciation for you.

Over the years you and Regulus had become too close, you practically lived in his room, where he could listen to you for hours talking about the same subject no matter how much you rambled, it wasn't always like that, sometimes it was quiet evenings where you were both silently reading, just enjoying each other's presence.

Anyone who knew Regulus knew you and vice versa, you spent most of your time together, occasionally being accompanied by Barty or Dorcas.

With anyone else you couldn't help but feel like a lapdog, chasing people and seeking their attention, with Regulus none of this happened, there was no awkwardness or anxiety, just tranquility and affection.

But as always, the universe seemed to want to test you, every year a misfortune happened in your life, this year the misfortune was called James Potter and it was a cute quidditch player with glasses.

At first you didn’t care, you and regulus were assigned together to a school job with James, nothing out of the ordinary, regulus seemed somewhat irritated by the idea of working with one of Sirius' friends but said he wouldn’t give it any importance.

The assignment was not particularly easy, it was hours in the library and you had to admit that working with James wasn’t the easiest thing in the world, but time seemed to pass quickly when the three of you were together.

Everything seemed relatively normal to you, you didn’t even care that James and Regulus seemed to get along, it was all too subtle, started with Regulus going to the library first, spending time alone with James and discussing assignment issues without you, then James started visiting more often the black lake, where you and regulus spent time together, but after that Regulus started going to the library without you, you used to find James chatting with regulus in the halls.

You wanted to think it was nothing, regulus still your best friend, still paying attention and even remembered your favorite chocolate, which he made sure to give you whenever he felt something was wrong.

You wanted to convince yourself that nothing was wrong, but there was a strange feeling in your chest, a little voice in your head telling you that something was wrong.

But how could this be wrong? James was sweet and attentive, he was the most popular boy at Hogwarts, he made Regulus smile, which no one else but you did, he even talked to you, included you in his plans and talked to you, listening carefully to what you said.

Even if you tried to hate James you couldn't, the boy was a gentleman in every sense of the word, but you thought it was his nature, you didn't think you were special, so you let James carry your books, walk you to class and even went to the three brooms with Regulus, for you it was nothing out of this world, but in spite of everything that horrible feeling wouldn't go away from you, that feeling that everything was going to end badly.

You really wanted to like him, there was nothing wrong with James, maybe it was you that was wrong...

“I didn't think you even knew anything about poetry” you could recognize Regulus' voice as he turned in one of the corridors, which surprised you, you hadn't seen him all morning, which was strange since you used to have breakfast together on weekends.

“Oh hi dove” James' voice snapped you out of your thoughts, you hadn't even noticed that you almost bumped into them.

James had a habit of calling everyone by nicknames, from “dove” to “sweetheart”, so you had understood that it didn't mean anything, but a strange feeling settled in your stomach every time he did.

“Hi, where were you?” You asked both of them, although your gaze was fixed on Regulus, your voice was calm but had some concern in it, had they gone out alone?

“We went to hogsmaede, for the poetry books I told you about” Regulus said calmly, but you felt a pang in your chest, you were the one who had told Regulus about those new books in the bookstore, you had agreed that you would go together for it.

“I thought we were going together after dinner” You said somewhat confused, but it was obvious that you were feeling a little bad about this.

“Ah it's just that I told James and he offered to go with me, you seemed busy with your Herbology homework, I didn't want to bother you” Regulus explained without giving it any importance, he really believed that you didn't care, you had gone a million times together to Hogsmaede and he had seen you a little off these last days, so he didn't want to bother you or force you to go out, he knew you were not the most social person.

But he didn't know that you didn't care, that you would always go out with him if he asked you to, of course, you weren't a fan of socializing or going to places with a lot of people, but you didn't care if it meant going with him.

“Oh okay, sure…” You said trying to sound as calm and disinterested as possible, maybe it was ridiculous, you were just overreacting, right? Regulus could go out with whoever he wanted, it didn't matter, but why did it hurt so much?

“We can go again later if you want, Marlene said there is a new coffee shop next to honeydukes” James said almost instantly, he seemed to have noticed the way your mood had changed.

“Oh no, Regulus was right, I have to finish my herbology homework…I'll see you guys later” You said with disinterest, though you couldn't even look them in the eyes, you felt a lump in your throat forming, a whirlwind of emotions flooding you, but you didn't want to make a spectacle of yourself there, it would be ridiculous, so you didn't let them say another word and hurried off to your room, feeling a pressure in your chest grow and the tears stinging in your eyes.

You wanted to stop the tears but you couldn't, it had all become too much at that moment, so all you could do was lock yourself in the bathroom of your room, sitting next to the bathtub and bringing your legs to your chest as the tears rolled down your cheeks.

You felt ridiculous, crying over two boys you didn't even have anything with, that was the problem, you had nothing, you never had anything, at the beginning it was a joke between you and Regulus, saying you were both losers with no love life, but now there was only you, Regulus had James, the most damn beautiful and attentive boy at Hogwarts, and where were you?

You didn't know what it was that feeling that came over you, some kind of envy or… jealousy?

You had seen the way James looked at Regulus, with stars in his eyes, you wanted that, you wanted someone to love like you were the air he breathed, you wanted to be able to intertwine your hands with Regulus' like James did, you wanted to snuggle between the two of them and wake up knowing you had someone who cared about you.

But you knew it wasn't possible, you knew it since you were a little girl, when all your friends ended up moving away, when everyone started to have their first kiss and you hadn't even held hands romantically with someone, you just wanted it to be you for once.

A knock on the door made you jump in place, at first you thought it was just one of your roommates, but a voice proved otherwise.

“Is everything okay in there, love?” at that moment you couldn't hate regulus' nicknames any more, you didn't want to see him at that moment, to anyone.

“Yeah, I'm fine” You said trying to sound calm, wiping the tears coming out of your eyes with the sleeves of your sweater.

“Can we come in?” your brow furrowed slightly at his words, We? but as if Regulus had read your mind, he spoke again. “James is here too, you didn't look so good earlier.”

You wanted to curse, what the fuck did James have to do there? You didn't want to be seen like that, you didn't want anyone to see you like that, but there was another feeling in your chest, you wanted to be comforted, you wanted someone to tell you that everything would be alright.

So before Regulus could say anything else, you walked up to the door and unlocked it, opening it slightly before stepping away, letting them in.

James and Regulus felt their chests heave at the sight of you, your eyes puffy and reddish, traces of tears on your cheeks and your eyes burning bright with tears.

Your gaze went to your hands, playing with the hem of your sweater, you didn't have the courage to look at them, you felt ridiculous, dramatic, like a little girl.

James was the first to approach, the brown-haired man was about to take you in his arms, wanting to protect you from everything, but for a moment he remembered that you and he were not as close as he would like, and he had seen you pull away a million times when someone tried to hug you.

“What's the wrong, dove?” asked James worriedly, holding back the urge to stretch his arms toward you.

Your chest tightened as you listened to him, why did he have to use those nicknames? Why did he have to be so nice?

“It's nothing, it was just a b-bad day I guess” You said trying to sound disinterested, but the slight cut in your voice gave away that something was wrong.

“This isn't just a bad day, yn, you've been acting weird all week, even with me” Now the one who spoke was Regulus, his voice sounding a little hurt, it was true, you had been pushing Regulus away for the last week, something you had never done before, the boy had been there for you all your life, you would never want to push him away, but this last week it had all become too much, your thoughts were overwhelming you, making you miserable and you didn't want Regulus to deal with you and your problems, you couldn't be a burden, to him or anyone else.

Your gaze lifted slightly, looking at Regulus and James for a moment, you felt your eyes fill with tears almost instantly, Regulus was wearing James' sweater, you didn't know if you hadn't noticed it before or if he had just put it on, but either way it hurt, it made your chest tighten.

Your mind went back to the last few weeks, remembering all the interactions between James and Regulus, the way they both looked at each other and laughed, the hickeys you had tried to ignore on Regulus' neck, the times you accidentally caught them in the hallways in a sweet kissing session, all those memories invaded your mind at once and made you feel miserable, because you were losing the only person you had ever loved, because it wasn't you who they loved, because it was never you who was loved.

Tears came out of your eyes non-stop, making you sob like never before, you felt like a little girl, weak and alone, wishing someone would hold you and tell you that everything would be all right.

Regulus soon came closer, wrapping you in his arms as if he was afraid you were going to fall apart right there, you wanted to cry harder, you felt ridiculous, you would have wanted to walk away, to disappear, but at that moment everything became too much and you could only sink into Regulus' arms, wishing your misery would end.

Regulus felt his chest tighten at seeing you so heartbroken, you had been holding it all in for so long that now you felt as if your own feelings were suffocating you, Regulus felt his own eyes fill with tears at the sight of you, feeling terrible for letting you get to this point, for not having cared sooner at seeing you so distant, a pang of guilt appeared in his chest.

James next to you wasn't much better, his face was one of genuine concern, he didn't know what to do, he didn't know you well enough to know what to do, he was afraid of getting so close to you that you would push him away.

“Love, please tell me what's wrong, it hurts me to see you like this” Regulus murmured, lightly stroking your hair, you sank deeper into his arms, wishing for it to be over, for the pain to disappear once and for all.

“I-I am what is wrong, it's a-always me…” You said between sobs, your head was starting to hurt from crying, you felt like you couldn't breathe.

“Dove, there's nothing wrong with you-” James started to say, trying to get closer to you, but you didn't even let him finish, feeling the pain cloud your t,thoughts.

“You don't know anything! Y-You would never understand…” You said painfully, pulling away from Regulus' arms, feeling your own chest tighten, to you James was the perfect boy, who had all of Hogwarts behind him, he would never understand your pain, no one would.

“Let us try, let us try to understand you” Regulus said quietly, trying to get closer to you again.

Your eyes filled with tears again, you felt a pressure in your chest suffocating you, you instantly shook your head, they were not going to understand you, they couldn't, not even you could, at some point they would notice how complicated you were and they would walk away, they couldn't fix you.

“I don't want to be understood, I don't want to be fixed, I don't-” You said in a clipped voice, tears kept coming out of your eyes, blurring your vision, you didn't even notice when James and Regulus had come so close to you.

“There's nothing to fix about you, love, you're not broken or damaged” James said softly, bringing his hand tentatively to your cheek, wondering if you would pull away or not.

But you didn't, you let James reach his hand up and gently touch your cheek, wiping away the tears that came from your eyes, his hand was warm and gentle on your cheek, you couldn't help but soften at his touch, it felt so good.

“I just want to be loved, is that so hard?” You said in barely a whisper, you sounded so vunerable, both boys felt their chests squeeze at hearing you, there was no way you were hard to love, not for them.

“Not at all, we've loved you from the first moment you appeared in our lives” Regulus said warmly, moving closer to you and James, tucking a lock of hair behind your ear.

You felt your breath catch when you heard his words, he didn't mean it, you were misinterpreting things, there was no way…

“You dont mean that, regulus, you dont-” You started to say instantly, pulling away from the touch of both of them defensively, you couldn't believe an illusion, you couldn't deal with the pain of losing them both.

“I don't what?” Regulus interrupted you, not letting you move too far away before gently grabbing one of your wrists. “I don't love you? You're not one to say what I feel or don't feel, I love you, and so does James” Regulus said seriously, not a trace of doubt in his voice.

You felt your breath catch, there was no way, it must have all been a dream, but you could feel Regulus' hand on your wrist, holding you gently, showing you that it was real, this was real.

“I don't know why you seem so surprised, dove, I know Regulus isn't very expressive but I thought we had been too obvious with our feelings for you” James said with obviousness, giving you a small smile, showing you that his words were true.

Your mind seemed to click, the memories of the last few weeks coming back to you, you had spent the last few weeks together with both boys and you had to admit that Regulus was a little more clingy with you than usual, he had looked at you more than usual while you were studying and you even remembered him playing with the bracelets in your hands, but you couldn't believe there were any other feelings with his looks or touches, he was your best friend and you had been so focused on his interactions with James that you hadn't even noticed how he acted with you.

With James the memories made you blush, now it all seemed a little more obvious, James was much more affectionate than Regulus, putting his arm around your shoulder as you walked, or telling you how good your hair looked with waves.

At that moment you couldn't help but shrink in place, feeling embarrassed, had they really been so obvious and you hadn't noticed?

“You really didn't notice anything?” Regulus asked incredulously, though something in his chest ached, you really didn't think they could be in love you?

“I, I d-didn't think…” The words didn't come out of your mouth, you felt embarrassed and a bit stupid, you wanted to believe their words but something in you still felt that it was all a bad joke, how could they notice you?

James noticed how your mind seemed to go too fast, overwhelming you with thoughts and ideas that weren't even true, so without thinking he approached you, taking your cheek again.

“We really like you, both of us, we love listening to you talk for hours about your books and hearing you laugh, I love when you insult me because I don't keep quiet in the library, I love how you and Regulus seem to get lost in your own world when you're together, I love how smart and kind you are, I love you, all of you.” James said sincerely, looking at you with those sparkling eyes that left you in no doubt that what he said was true.

You felt a new warmth in your chest, something you hadn't felt before, and it felt so…. nice

“I know that maybe now everything is too much and we'll go slow if that's the way you want it, we care about you, more than anything in this world, and I know that sometimes I'm an idiot who doesn't know what he wants, but if there's one thing I'm sure of is that I love you, and nothing will change my feelings for you” Regulus said, his cheeks were slightly flushed, you knew how hard it was for him to express himself, so every word meant too much to you.

Your mind was still thinking too much, a thousand ideas and emotions running through your mind, so many that they could overwhelm you, but for a moment a new feeling appeared in you and silenced everything else, it was love.

Your mind went blank, all the fear disappeared when you saw their looks, they were genuine, so for the first time you decided to believe, you decided that maybe this was for the best, you deserved it, for once, for the first time, it was you.

You were loved.

“I love you too” You mumbled in barely a whisper looking at both boys “I'm sorry for…for how I acted… I thought you guys were leaving me out and I-” You started to explain, feeling your chest hurt as you remembered how you yelled at James and walked away from Regulus, but they didn't let the pain last too long.

“It's okay dove, we didn't know you felt this way, we should have been more direct with you” James murmured warmly, with that tone that made you feel so safe.

“James is right, it was me who wanted to give you space when I saw you a bit discouraged, I should have asked what was wrong, I'm sorry, love” Regulus added with some pain in his voice, to which you immediately shook your head.

“No, no, it's not your fault, I preferred to isolate myself than to talk to you…I always do” You said without looking at them, the last thing in just a whisper, isolating yourself was something you couldn't avoid, you preferred to sink in your pain and misery than to let others carry it.

“You don't have to keep doing it, we're here and we're not leaving” Regulus said sweetly, taking your chin and lifting your gaze, “If you want space just tell us and we'll wait for you, love, but we'll always be there for you, you have us now, you don't have to go through your pain alone, you don't have to let your thoughts consume you, you're not alone.”

You felt your heart squeeze at Regulus' words, you were not alone, you had them, if this was a dream you never wanted to wake up.

Without thinking about it you approached Regulus, hugging him tightly and sinking into his arms, not without first taking James' hand so that he would also come closer, he didn't hesitate for a minute to hug you both.

“I love you, so much” You said softly, you wanted to say a million things, but at that moment you couldn't, you just wanted to sink into their arms and make everything else disappear, they knew it, they didn't move away for a moment, they didn't need words to know that you loved them.

“We love you more, dove, you have no idea” James said affectionately, running a hand through your hair in an loving gesture.

From your position you could hear the heartbeat in Regulus' chest, it was the best melody you had ever heard.

You wanted to stay like this forever, with them, they were everything you had ever dreamed of, you loved them.

Regulus carefully took your chin, lifting your face, his eyes were full of love, they were looking at you as if you were a dream.

“ May I?” murmured Regulus softly, his eyes fixed on your lips, he was asking for your permission, Regulus was asking for your permission to kiss you, and you felt like you would melt right there.

Almost instantly you nodded, there was no doubt in your mind that you wanted him to kiss you, even if you had never kissed anyone before, you wanted him to be the first, there was no doubt in your mind.

James was totally gawking at the sight of them, his heart was pounding in his chest.

Regulus didn't think too much before he gently cupped your cheek, bringing his face close to yours and pressing his lips to yours, you felt like you were in a dream, his lips were sweet and decisive on yours.

You felt all his love released in that kiss, it was as if he was pouring out all the love he had kept for you during all these years.

Your hands went to his hair, holding him close, your lips moved inexpertly over his, you wished it would never end.

Regulus seemed to feel the same, because it wasn't until you pulled away for air that he let you go, still holding your cheek.

Your lips were slightly puffy and your cheeks flushed, you were trying to catch your breath, and to James and Regulus you were the most beautiful thing they had ever seen.

“You've been waiting for this for a long time, haven't you?” James said to Regulus with some amusement, Regulus was in the same state as you, trying to catch his breath.

Regulus rolled his eyes slightly, before moving closer and leaving another kiss on your lips, this time a shorter one but with the same love, the boy had definitely become addicted to your lips.

When you pulled away you didn't know what to say, your cheeks were flushed, the smile on James' face didn't make you feel any less embarrassed, even in that state he looked at you as if you were a work of art.

“Damn I really want to kiss you” James gasped softly, bringing his hand to your jaw.

You didn't let James say anything else, you brought your lips to his and kissed him, to say you were scared was an understatement, but the moment your lips touched James' everything vanished.

James kissed you with such desire, his hand went from your jaw to the back of your neck, holding you close, his kiss was desperate but sweet, very different from Regulus, one of his hands went to your waist, pulling you closer to him and groaning in between the kiss.

James seemed to have been waiting for this moment all his life, at one point he lightly bit your lip, making you open your mouth and thrusting his tongue in, turning the kiss more heated, you felt your cheeks flush and you could barely keep up with him.

“James” Regulus called as a warning, making James pull away slightly, still keeping his grip on your waist.

“You'll have plenty of time for that later, let her process all of this first” Regulus said with amusement though there was some seriousness in his voice.

You were grateful to Regulus, sure the kiss with James was a dream, but your mind was still trying to process all of this, so you definitely needed to slow down a bit, this was all new to you.

James didn't look disappointed at all, he simply nodded slightly at Regulus, his face somewhat guilty, feeling that perhaps he had gone too far, he was much bolder than the black haired boy clearly, but if you needed to go slow he would wait as long as you needed to.

Even though your heart was still beating too hard in your chest you still wanted to prove to James that he had done nothing wrong, so you took his face and left a kiss on his lips, taking a moment to pull away.

“I love your kisses ” You said sweetly for James, showing him that all was fine, to which the boy's eyes lit up, giving you a small smile, god how you adored that smile.

That day all your fears vanished, you could feel a mess, a chaos, but among all the noise, there they were.

Finally the prophecy had changed for you.

I hope you liked this, I think it's a bit long but I think it's worth it, I hope all my Prophecy girls enjoyed it, your turn will come, don't forget i xoxo.

[staliamazing]

handsome : a jegulus microfic

year | jegulus microfic | @into-the-jeggyverse | wc: 611

They had shared a kiss at midnight in the Gryffindor common room. In the moments after, James had gotten swept away giving friendly hugs and handshakes to basically the entire room while Regulus faded back into the shadows. Parties weren't his scene. After James was finished with his duties as Mr. Congeniality, he attempted to find his boyfriend to give him another kiss. And another. And hopefully many more.

However, during his making the rounds wishing everyone a happy new year, James had graciously accepted various sips of various liquids from his schoolmates. He was now struggling to see straight, let alone walk properly to track down Regulus.

As James began to stumble through the common room, his hands made contact with something leathery. Through his blurry vision he was able to make out a mass of black waves above a jacket of the same colour.

Sirius turned around to meet his best friend's eyes and upon seeing them full of panic and smelling the alcohol on his breath, he went into full protective mode.

"Jesus, James. Come on, take a seat." He guided them to a nearby couch and hastily lowered the pair down.

"I haven't called him handsome since last year." James sobs into Sirius' half-unbuttoned shirt.

"Who? Regulus?"

"Of course Regulus. I haven't seen him since the clock struck twelve, and now I'm drunk and he's missing and he probably hates me!"

"Pull it together Prongs, he's probably off with thing 1 and 2 performing dark magic in a corner somewhere."

"Without me?" James sniffs, wiping his nose on the back of his hand. Sirius rolls his eyes and leans back on the couch to allow his soppy best friend to flop down onto the cushions and sprawl across his lap.

"You're being very mature about all this," Remus says as he strolls over to sit next to Sirius, using his head to gesture the emotional mess that was James.

"He's always been an... affectionate drunk." Sirius shrugs. "Wish it wasn't my brother he's swooning over but."

"I think I passed him earlier, somewhere with Evan and Barty. Do I go get him?"

"You saw Regulus?" James lifts his head from where it was buried, eyes full of hope. "I haven't called him handsome since last year!" He repeats. Somehow, James manages to produce more alcohol from behind him and brings it to his lips, gulping it down as though he had had been dying of thirst.

"Yeah, no. No way." Sirius shares a look with his boyfriend and wraps his arms around James' torso, constricting his movement. In the same moment, Remus leans forward to grab the bottle from his hands as James grunts and struggles.

"What in the actual fuck is going on here?" All three of the young men stop in place to look in the direction of whoever just spoke to them. Regulus stands in front of them, arms crossed, with Barty and Evan standing at either side of him.

James scrambles right out of Sirius' grip and nearly trips making his way over to Regulus.

"Regulus. You," he slurs. "Are so handsome." Barty cracks up beside Regulus, earning him a whack across the chest from his friend. Sirius watches in concern, hoping his little brother will treat the gentle giant with kindness. "So handsome," James whispers again. He reaches out a hand, which Regulus takes.

"You're funny when you're drunk, big baby." James grins and lets Regulus drag him up to the dorms where he will no doubt tuck him in and let him sleep it off. They had the rest of the year, and their lives, for him to say it back.

[stxrrnightjxr]

So like I actually need moonwaterkiller to be real because idk they’re just it. Like they’re IT

Three people who look like they could single-handedly take down a regime, destroy an army, idk become a dictator if they wanted too

But they’re soooo fucking soft with eachother and it’s almost disgusting how domestic they can be

Like Remus who’s simply just imposing because of his height and looks (even if he isn’t really as mean as people think he is, he still looks a little scary and no one can stop me from thinking that)

Barty who looks like he could rip out someone’s lung or something, and has definitely thought of it before, if he wanted to

And Reg who could probably kill someone with a well-placed glare?

But then you catch them huddled up together on the couch watching some stupid Christmas movie, sharing a bowl of popcorn (Barty’s hogging it) under about seventy blankets?

And they’re all so possessive and protective of eachother too

(Especially Remus near the full moon when in a magic AU, or even in a muggle one he just is.. like those r his boys, no one touches them)

And what if I said tall Remus, mediumish height Barty, and short reg? OR tall Remus, average height Barty, and tall Reg who’s taller than Barty but not taller than Remus? (I haven’t really thought about shorter Barty, but .. 🤨🧐)

And I feel like their dynamics are just a little different with eachother

Barty + Reg have been together the longest- and they’re so attuned to eachother that they could be having a whole conversation across a room with just looks. They’re both a little volatile, and butt heads a lot- (but when Remus came it he sort of balanced them out). They have the propensity and the ability to be really toxic, and sometimes that can come out with eachother- but they love eachother too much to hate eachother. (I feel like if they didn’t love eachother, they’d absolutely loathe eachother and honestly that’s just them)

Remus + Barty are a little different. Barty takes a little while to warm up to being fully vulnerable with people- just because it’s been ingrained in him to be cold and rude to anyone who doesn’t know him. It caused a few rocky parts in the beginning, because Barty absolutely wouldn’t let Remus in to many of his emotional turmoils, and Remus felt like Barty didn’t love him as much. (Of course, he did- it just took him a bit). And Barty is incredibly protective of Reg- another thing that caused a little strife- Barty, most especially when he’s moody and a little horny, doesn’t really like people touching Regulus (who isn’t him,) because like that’s his man? And so when Remus did, Barty was a little sour- but it only really took a bit before Barty was like ‘oh yeah, this guy’s cool.’ (Remus still lets Barty have his ‘Regulus time,’ but Barty’s learning to be a little forgiving.

Regulus + Remus. They’re honestly really vanilla in my mind. Not vanilla like boring, but they’re just really soft- like it’s not uncommon to walk in and just find them cuddled up on a sofa or something, either sharing a book or reading their own- but just being close. Reg’s secretly a big cuddler to me, so when Barty’s busy, is overstimulated (because Barty to me def has some type of touch-aversion at times, and at other times he’s hyper-touchy) or just doesn’t feel like staying still, Regulus’ll go to Remus, who’s always down to lie somewhere comfortable that doesn’t require him to move his bones too much.

I’d like to think it started out with Bartylus, and Reg eventually rekindled his relationship with Sirius (because I can’t live with them hating eachother) and met Remus, and then Barty met Remus, and it all kind of spiralled from there. (Reg’s eyes widened and looked over to Barty to see he was practically already drooling over this guy)

And Remus was so pathetically oblivious that at some point a very frustrated James had to finally pull him aside and tell him, “Merlin, Moony- those two have not stopped giving you ‘fuck-me-eyes’ for months now, at least talk to them before Pads has an aneurysm.”

But then they all got together and yes

[dovesdreaming]

In the quiet halls

A/N: I only recently discovered people write for him so if his character doesn’t seem right please give me tips! I also didn’t know who was the more popular fancast so I just stuck with David tenant because I think he’s hot 🤭

Summary: when Barty finds you in the empty halls crying his fist reaction is anger at who made you feel like this but it melts away when you look at him with tear rimmed eyes. Barty comforts you the best he can.

Request

Masterlist

-

Barty had never been great with emotions, particularly his own. Growing up in the cold, controlled environment of the Crouch household, feelings were something to be kept under wraps, hidden away where they couldn't make you vulnerable. But you.. you had always been different. You weren’t afraid to feel, to express yourself, to be open and honest in a way that made him question everything he'd ever known about control. Which was why it terrified him just how much he cared about you. What had started as friendship had slowly turned into something more, something he didn’t know how to deal with. He couldn’t stop thinking about you, the way your laugh echoed through the common room, the way you always managed to say the right thing when he was in a bad mood, the way your smile made his heart race. But you were his best friend, and he wasn’t about to ruin that by confessing his feelings. No, it was better to keep things as they were, even if it meant pretending that you didn’t make his heart ache in ways he couldn’t explain.So, he kept it to himself, content to stand by your side and quietly pine after you, knowing that you deserved more than someone like him. You deserved someone who wasn’t constantly wrestling with the darkness inside him, someone who wasn’t constantly trying to live up to impossible expectations.

He was on his way to the library, mentally preparing himself for another late-night study session, when he saw you in one of the empty corridors. His brow furrowed in concern when he noticed the way you were slumped against the wall, arms wrapped tightly around yourself. You looked… small. Defeated. And most importantly you had hidden yourself away in a corridor instead of seeking comfort like you usually do. His stomach twisted as he quickly closed the distance between you, dread curling in his chest. He had seen you upset before, but this was different. You looked like you were barely holding it together. “Hey” he said softly, crouching down in front of you. “What happened?” You didn’t look up, and for a moment, you didn’t answer. Barty’s heart pounded in his chest, and he felt an unfamiliar surge of protectiveness rise in him, the kind that made his hands clench into fists. Who had done this to you? Who had made you feel this way?

“Who upset you?” he asked, his voice tight with barely contained anger. His mind raced with images of every possible person who could’ve upset you. Whoever it was, they’d have to answer to him. But then, you looked up at him, and the anger that had been building inside him evaporated the moment he saw your face. Your eyes were red-rimmed, tears still clinging to your lashes, and your expression was so utterly broken that it made his chest hurt. The fierceness in him melted, replaced by a deep, gnawing ache. His voice softened instantly. “Hey, what’s going on?” he asked, his tone gentle now. “Talk to me”. You sniffed, wiping at your eyes with the back of your hand, trying to compose yourself, but it was clear you were struggling. Barty’s heart broke a little more at the sight of you trying to be strong.

“I-It’s stupid” you said shakily, your voice barely above a whisper. “It’s just… today’s been awful. Everything’s gone wrong, and I-I feel like I can’t do anything right. Like I’m failing at everything”. Barty’s heart ached at your words. He had seen you go through tough days before, but it was rare to see you so broken. Normally, you were the strong one, the one who kept your head held high no matter what. Seeing you like this, seeing you hurt, was unbearable. “Hey, no” he said softly, sitting down beside you, his shoulder pressing against yours in a gesture of quiet support. “You’re not failing. You’re… you’re brilliant. You’re one of the strongest people I know”. You gave him a shaky laugh, but it was clear you didn’t believe him. “I don’t feel strong right now” you whispered. “I feel like I’m falling apart”. Barty swallowed the lump in his throat, his mind racing as he tried to find the right words to comfort you. “You don’t have to be strong all the time, you know” he said quietly. “It’s okay to have bad days. It’s okay to feel like this”.

You shook your head, still struggling to hold back tears. “But it’s more than that. I feel like no matter what I do, it’s not good enough. I try so hard, and I just… I don’t know how much longer I can keep pretending everything’s fine”. Barty felt his chest tighten. He hated seeing you like this. He hated that you were feeling so alone, so lost, and he hated that he hadn’t noticed sooner. He reached out, hesitating for just a moment before gently taking your hand in his. The contact was warm, grounding, and thought he had touched you before in casual ways, brushing arms, light nudges this felt more deliberate, more intimate. “You don’t have to pretend with me” he said softly, his thumb brushing against the back of your hand. “Not ever. I’m here, alright? Whatever’s going on, we’ll get through it together”. You glanced down at your intertwined hands, your fingers curling slightly around his. The small gesture made his heart skip a beat, but he pushed that feeling aside. This wasn’t about him. This was about you, and right now, all that mattered was making sure you knew he was there for you.

“I just.. I don’t know what to do anymore” you admitted, your voice so quiet that he had to strain to hear you. “Everything feels like it’s falling apart”. Barty’s heart ached as he listened to you, every word making him want to pull you closer, to hold you until you felt safe again. But he didn’t want to push you, didn’t want to overstep. He settled for squeezing your hand a little tighter, offering what comfort he could. “You don’t have to figure everything out right now” he said softly. “One step at a time, okay? And you don’t have to do it alone”. You were silent for a moment, your gaze fixed on the ground. Then, slowly, you leaned your head against his shoulder, your body slumping against his in exhaustion. Barty felt his breath catch in his throat, but he didn’t move. He didn’t want to risk breaking the fragile moment. “Thank you” you whispered, your voice barely audible. “I don’t know what I’d do without you”.

His chest tightened at your words, a strange mix of warmth and sadness swelling within him. He wished he could tell you how much you meant to him, how he would do anything to make sure you never felt this way again. But the words got stuck in his throat, and instead, he settled for pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head, his lips lingering there for just a moment longer than necessary. “I’m always here”he said quietly, his voice filled with a sincerity that surprised even him. “No matter what” You didn’t say anything in response, but the way your body relaxed against his, the way your hand tightened around his, told him enough. The two of you sat in silence for a long time, the weight of the day slowly easing off your shoulders as you let yourself lean on him. Barty stayed there with you, his heart racing but steady, determined to be the calm you needed right now. For as long as you needed him, he would be there.

Eventually, you shifted slightly, lifting your head from his shoulder to meet his gaze. Your eyes were still red, but there was a softness there now, a vulnerability that made his breath catch. “I don’t know what I did to deserve a friend like you” you said quietly, a small, tired smile tugging at your lips. Barty felt his heart skip a beat, but he forced a smile in return, trying to keep his emotions in check. “I’m the lucky one” he said softly, and it wasn’t a lie. Every day he spent with you was a gift he didn’t feel he deserved.

For a moment, neither of you spoke. The air between you felt charged, like something unspoken hung in the balance. Barty’s eyes flickered to your lips, but he quickly looked away, cursing himself for thinking about that when you were upset. This wasn’t the time. But then, to his surprise, you reached out and gently cupped his face in your hands, your thumbs brushing softly against his cheekbones. His heart stopped as you leaned forward, your forehead resting against his, your breath warm against his skin. “Thank you” you whispered again, and this time, Barty couldn’t help himself. Without thinking, he closed the small gap between you, his lips brushing against yours in the softest, most tentative kiss. It was gentle, filled with the quiet promise of more, of everything that had been building between you for so long. When Barty pulled back, your eyes searched his, a quiet question lingering there.

“I-“ he started, but you beat him to his ramble and quickly pulled him back into your lips by wrapping your hand round the back of his head, hoping it would be enough to answer his questions.

-

Thank you for reading!

[bradleysass]

amortentia - @black-brothers-microfic - wc: 804 - past bartylus

Regulus Black stirred the cauldron in his dormitory with the kind of furious precision only heartbreak could summon.

"You're going to burn a hole through the floor if you keep doing that," Barty drawled from his perch on Regulus’ bed, flipping idly through a worn Quidditch magazine. "And Slughorn will have your pretty little head for brewing outside of class again."

Regulus didn’t look up. "I’m not going to burn anything."

"You're also not going to make him love you," Barty added, casual but cruel in that way he knew Regulus would let him get away with.

The stirring slowed. Regulus set the spoon down and leaned over the steaming cauldron. The telltale shimmer of Amortentia had started—pearly, seductive, a promise in vapor. He breathed in, already knowing what he’d smell.

Leather polish. Apple pie. A stupid, sweaty Quidditch pitch on a Sunday morning.

James Potter.

Regulus exhaled shakily and wiped his hand on a cloth. “I know.”

Barty sat up. “Then what the hell are you doing?”

Regulus looked at him finally, and there was something hollow in his expression, something exhausted. “I just want to know. What it would feel like… if he looked at me that way. Even for a second.”

"That way?" Barty echoed. “You mean the way he looks at her.”

Regulus flinched.

"Reg," Barty sighed. He crossed the room and leaned against the table beside the cauldron. “You know James Potter is an idiot, right? He couldn’t find emotional nuance with a bloody Remembrall.”

Regulus gave a brittle laugh. “He’s kind, Barty.”

“No, he’s charismatic,” Barty corrected. “There’s a difference. You’re confusing charm for care. Happens to the best of us.”

Regulus didn’t reply. He turned back to the potion, gently lowering the heat. “He’s never been cruel to me.”

Barty tilted his head. “So that means he deserves to be drugged?”

“No!” Regulus snapped, eyes wide. “I’m not going to give it to him. I’m not that— I just… I just want to have it. Like a thought experiment.”

“Your thought experiments are getting more dramatic,” Barty murmured. “Remember when you just wanted to write him a poem?”

“That was fourth year,” Regulus muttered.

“And I said no then, too.”

“You said it was ‘gay and desperate.’”

“Which it was,” Barty replied, not unkindly. “And this is worse.”

Regulus sat down heavily on the chair beside the cauldron, resting his elbows on his knees. His voice was quiet when he said, “It hurts, B.”

Barty froze.

It wasn’t the nickname—Regulus had always called him that—it was the crack in his voice. Regulus Black didn’t do cracks. He didn’t break. He didn’t beg. That was what Barty did.

Barty looked down at him and then gently sat on the floor, so their knees brushed.

"I know it does," he said, voice uncharacteristically soft.

Regulus stared at the swirling potion. “I keep thinking if I was just a little louder. Or brighter. Or Gryffindor-ish. He’d see me.”

Barty watched him for a long moment. “He saw you once.”

Regulus didn’t respond.

"You remember?" Barty said, teasing. “You wore that ridiculous emerald jumper and charmed his quill to follow you around for a week.”

Regulus cracked a smile. “That wasn’t for him.”

“No?”

“It was for you,” Regulus said, eyes flicking sideways. “But you already knew that.”

Barty was quiet.

They sat in the silence together for a while. The potion puffed and shimmered between them, toxic and beautiful.

Finally, Barty said, “You know, I used to think you were too cold to love anyone. Turns out, you’re just quiet about it.”

Regulus looked at him. “And what do you think now?”

“I think,” Barty said slowly, “you’re allowed to want love. Even from a reckless golden boy who’ll never deserve it. But you’re not allowed to lose yourself chasing it.”

Regulus blinked.

Then, softly: “Do you think it’ll always be like this?”

Barty leaned his head against the table leg. “I think you’ll either outgrow him, or he’ll finally notice. And if neither happens, you’ll still survive.”

Regulus scoffed. “That’s not exactly comforting.”

Barty shrugged. “I’m not your comfort. I’m your reality.”

Regulus smiled again, tired but genuine.

“Will you help me bottle it?” he asked, gesturing to the Amortentia.

Barty raised an eyebrow. “Are you planning to name it Unrequited Idiocy?”

“Private Disaster,” Regulus countered.

Barty chuckled, and something in the room shifted. Just a little. Just enough.

“Alright,” he said, standing. “But I’m keeping a vial. Just to remind you how dramatic you are.”

Regulus nodded. “Fair.”

And as they moved around the cauldron—exes, friends, something stranger in-between—Barty thought that maybe James Potter could keep being blind for a little longer. Regulus didn’t need a love potion. He already had someone who saw him.

Even if it wasn’t the way he wanted.

[deadkaywizard]

It’s currently 4 am and I’m apparently going to be stuck being awake for a bit so here’s a thought that came to me a bit ago and hasn’t left me since

Whether they’re platonic or romantic I think Barty and Reg have one of the most important relationships in the entire marauders fandom

These two just undeniably understand each other on a level that no one else can really understand

They both have this darkness that lives within them, something that only they know how to deal with and live with

Somewhere along the way they realized that no matter how hard Evan and Pandora and Dorcas and even James, Sirius and Remus tried to understand their connection no one really could, not even James and Sirius

James and Sirius were always close, if anyone should understand their bond it would be them, but not even they do

James and Sirius are outward chaos but they handle their emotions differently than Reg and Barty who are known to lash out, who know the things they say in anger are never what they mean, who can only give each other the full brunt of their emotions because they’re so much deeper than anyone else seems to understand

They balance one another out and bear the weight of that crushing, all consuming darkness together. It’s what keeps them from completely losing their minds

Platonic or romantic these two need each other

[ravenclaws-stuff]

Braids

Summary: After an accidental tug on your hair, an unpleasant memory surfaces.

Tags: Hurt/comfort, reader has a flash back to her childhood, abusive relationship, evil stepmom stereotype, may be based off real events, Barty is an absolute angel and takes care of the reader, he knows how childhood trauma can affect you, Crazy Train by Ozzy Ozbourne, hair pulling but not the good kind

A/n: This took a lot for me to write but Barty would know how to take care of a bad flashback. I hope you guys like it

The muggle music box filled the living room with whatever record Barty put on while I was in the shower. “Mental wounds not healing life’s a bitter shame.” Barty’s husky voice echos in my ear as his fingers expertly braid my hair. It has become one of mine and Barty’s favorite nighttime ritual. Any night I wash my  hair, Barty sits me between his legs, and braids my hair. Claims he adores the curls in the morning. Gives me a fresh shagged look. 

“Sing it B.” I giggle, stretching my legs. Barty huffs, his warm breath tickles my ear. “Angel.” He teases, tugging my hair in retaliation. The sharp tug brings forward a very unwelcomed memory to surface. 

(Flashback)

“Mom can you tell Y/n not to touch me?” Alicia, my stepsister says, a smirk forming on her pale face as pure panic fills my chest. The fingers braiding my hair turns into a tight fist, yanking my head backwards. Her coldbrown eyes stare down at me with intense emotions, the main one being hatred.

“Why did you touch my daughter?” I gulp, but the air and the saliva gets tuck a quarter of the way through. “I..I’m sorry. She was hurting me and I.. just trying to defend myself.” She scoffs, tightening her hold in my hair.

“You don't get to defend yourself in this house. You are not a person, not a member of this family. You have no right to touch my daughter.” Another tug before she lets go, allowing my head to fall back. The sore ache in the back of my scalp and neck brings tears to my eyes. “Touch one of my kids again and that will be the last thing you do anything in this household.” 

The first thing I noticed once I am pulled out of the memory was the eery quiet.  My heavy breathing replaced the music. Another thing I noticed as the fog cleared in my mind was I was no longer sitting on the floor. I am now sat sideways on Barty’s lap. His left arm wrapped around my waist. “I am so sorry angel.” Barty whispers, lips brushing against my temple. “I should have been more careful.”

I try to smile but I’m sure I look like a complete mess. Tear stains down my cheeks, red eyes, splotches across my face, “I..its okay.” Barty pulls back, a frown on his face. The urge to soothe the pinch brow is overbearing but I couldn’t find the energy to move my arm. "Its not okay” He pulls me closer. “I need you to know I would never hurt you on purpose. Ever.” He says, his voice unwavering. “But if I ever do, kick my arse.” I giggle, leaning my head on his chest. His wild heart beat soothes me.

Whenever memories resurfaced, Barty was always there to reassure me. Telling me I never deserved the childhood I had gotten and he promised he was going to give me the best life he possibly can. If anyone understood how shitty childhoods can affect you, it was Barty.

“I love you, Barty.” I whisper, yawning as  I try to fight the sleep. He chuckles, standing up with me in his arms. “I love you too angel.” He pulls the covers back, laying me down. “Get some sleep.” I shake my head, pulling Barty onto the bed next to me. He chuckles, wrapping his arms around me. “Whatever you want angel.”

[my-castles-crumbling]

taxi - @rosekillermicrofic - very suggestive, NSFW - word count: 398

Grumbling and cursing under his breath, Barty stomped down the steps of his father’s law firm and wrenched the door of a nearby taxi open, flinging his stupid briefcase inside and thanking whatever higher power was out there that at least he didn’t have to waste time hailing a ride home.

“Oi!”

He almost ignored the furious voice. He had better things to be annoyed about. But a strong hand on his shoulder made him turn.

“That taxi’s for me, mate,” a tall, frowning, casually-dressed man said, his voice so threatening that his use of the word ‘mate’ was laughable.

Instantly, Barty was turned on. Maybe it was that he was in the mood to do something destructive after dealing with his father all day. Maybe it was the ample amount of tattoos littering the man’s brown neck. Maybe it was the piercing eyes– one green, one blue– glaring at him, causing heat to bubble in his stomach. But whatever it was, he was instantly hooked.

“First come, first served,” he drawled, refusing to move, meeting the man’s look with an easy smirk. 

“It stopped for me. Fuck off,” the man insisted, gripping his shoulder tighter. Barty resisted the urge to moan.

But rather than back down, he just grinned wider. “This taxi’s stopping at one place: my flat. So you have two choices, gorgeous. Either you fuck off, or jump in next to me, come back to my place, and fuck me.”

He watched as a myriad of emotions flickered across the taller man’s eyes, steeling himself for the possibility of getting punched. He didn’t know this man at all, and it was certainly a possibility.

But as shock, anger, more shock, and then heat flashed across the man’s face, Barty felt himself grow in confidence. Because it was clear that Mr. Tall Tattoos liked the idea. 

“Are you serious?” the man asked, narrowing his eyes.

Almost groaning because Regulus’s fucking brother was not the man he wanted to be thinking of right then, he tried to stay focused. “I’m Barty,” he said, jerking his head to the open door. “And what name will I be screaming in an hour?”

“Evan,” Evan grinned, giving him a little shove towards the backseat. “And depending on how close you live, I’ll make it happen in half an hour.”

It turned out, Evan was very good at keeping his promises.

[moons-and-mobility-aids]

The Quiet in the Storm

Pairing: Barty Crouch Jr x Reader Summary: The noise in your head won’t stop, and the world feels like it’s tearing at your skin. But Barty knows how to sit with silence. Tags: fem!reader, no use of y/n, overstimulation, emotional dysregulation, sensory overwhelm, panic attack, breakdown, hurt/comfort, barty being unexpectedly gentle, he doesn't joke this time, quiet support, storm metaphor carried through, reader can't speak but still communicates, barty's hand is the lifeline, safe touch, neurodivergent-coded reader, just let me be held for a minute, barty knows how to sit in the silence, eventual calm Word count: 1.5k words

The storm hits without preamble. There's no thunderous crash, no flash of lightning to signal its approach—just the sudden, unyielding pressure in your skull and the deafening rush of blood in your ears. You can't pinpoint when it started; one moment you're on the edge, teetering, and the next, you're swallowed whole.

Everything else fades into static, a cacophony of sensations that prick at your skin like tiny needles. The flicker of the fireplace is too erratic, each shift of light an assault on your senses. Barty's pacing, once a dull background noise, grates against your nerves, every footfall a drumbeat echoing through your bones. Even the whisper of fabric against skin seems amplified, a harsh reminder that your body, too, betrays you.

You pull the blanket tighter around your shoulders, not for warmth but for the illusion of separation it offers—a thin layer of insulation from the world outside. You focus on your breathing, count the seconds between inhales and exhales, as if by sheer force of will you can control the storm raging within.

But it's no use.

Barty doesn't see it at first. Or perhaps he does and chooses not to react, giving you the space to process the enormity of what's happening. That’s his way—watching from the sidelines until it's clear whether you need a joke or a shoulder. But it's the silence that betrays your turmoil; the lack of quips and laughter is a void too vast to ignore.

"Hey." His voice is low, not quite a whisper but soft enough that it barely disturbs the air between you. It's meant to be reassuring, a lifeline in the darkness, but instead it tugs at something inside you, unraveling the final thread of your composure.

You don't answer. You can't. Words are like smoke in your throat, choking you with their absence. You want to tell him everything, let it pour out of you in a torrent of grief and anger and betrayal, but all you manage is a shaky breath, drawn in through your nose and exhaled through teeth gritted against the overwhelm.

Barty crouches before you, his hands held slightly out from his sides as though he's fighting against the instinct to reach for you. His fingers twitch once, twice, before he clasps them together, grounding himself. He tilts his head, examining your face, your posture, the way your hands shake ever so slightly on your lap. The smugness in his eyes has given way to something softer, more tentative.

"Bad day?" he ventures, the words barely above a whisper.

You give a slight nod, not trusting yourself to speak just yet.

For a moment, he doesn't respond, and the silence stretches between you, taut but not uncomfortable. There are no biting remarks on his tongue, no dramatic flourishes to punctuate the quiet. Instead, he moves with deliberation, settling beside you on the couch. He's close, but not too close, giving you room to breathe even as the warmth of his body seeps into the empty space.

"Alright," he says finally, voice low and steady, a counterpoint to the chaos storming within you. "We keep it quiet, then."

For a moment, he's still—just the occasional twitch of his fingers betraying any sign of life. Then, slowly, cautiously, Barty moves closer, each movement deliberate and measured. His hand comes to rest on your knee, just barely brushing against the blanket that covers you. You flinch—not from pain, but from the sudden jolt of sensation.

"Sorry, sweetheart," Barty murmurs, and there's a tenderness in his voice that always makes your breath hitch. "Just—here." He extends his hand further, palm upturned and waiting, not touching you yet. "Take it if you want. Or don’t. I’ll still be here."

His hand trembles slightly in the air between you two—a grounded bird, unsure whether to take flight or stay put. You stare at it, this unexpected lifeline, and something within you uncoils. It’s strange how much difference a choice can make—even one as small as this.

The breath you've been holding escapes your lips in a soft sigh. Slowly, tentatively, you extend your own hand. Your fingers graze his, then curl around them with a grip that's more question than answer. His hand closes around yours, firm and warm. The tension seems to drain from him, replaced by a quiet resolve.

"Good," he murmurs, relaxing back into the couch. "You don't need to say anything else tonight. Just exist. I’ll make sure the world behaves for a bit."

The sound that escapes your lips is somewhere between a laugh and a sob. Barty shifts slightly, his head turning towards you as if sensing your confusion.

"What's that? You don't believe I can handle it?" His voice is a mix of amusement and something else—something warmer, softer. "I've managed professors for far less than what you're going through right now."

You squeeze his hand, not sure how to respond, not sure what to make of all this. But there's a strange comfort in his presence, in the steady rhythm of his breathing beside you. It's familiar, yet entirely foreign—a contradiction that somehow makes sense in the madness of this moment.

"Not that I'm saying I will," he adds, a hint of a tease lingering in his tone. "But I could. I can be very persuasive when I want to be."

There’s a pause, and then he chuckles softly—the sound low and rumbling, a counterpoint to the storm in your head.

He shifts closer, the warmth of his leg brushing against yours as he settles at your side. Then, with a motion more deliberate than before, he lifts his arm and drapes it over your shoulders, drawing you towards him. Your muscles stiffen under the contact, every instinct screaming to retreat, but Barty doesn’t let go. Instead, he holds you there, his grip steady and reassuring.

"You don't need to hide," he murmurs, his voice barely audible above the crackling fire. "Not from me."

His arm is not heavy, yet there's an undeniable presence to it—a strange sort of comfort that keeps you anchored to the here and now.

"Your storms... they don't scare me," he continues, his cheek resting lightly against your hair. "It’s nothing to be ashamed of, the world is just louder for you."

A small sigh escapes your lips, and without realising it, you lean further into his embrace.

His fingers, calloused and warm, find your wrist beneath the blanket, tracing small patterns against your skin. You're not sure if he does it to soothe you or to ground himself, but it helps.

Slowly, your breaths begin to even out, the tightness in your chest loosening just enough for you to catch your breath. Barty doesn't gloat or say "I told you so," and he doesn't point out how much you need this—how much you need someone—even though you know he's thinking it. He simply breathes with you, his chest rising and falling in time with yours.

When you finally find your voice, it comes out as a ragged whisper. "I hate this," you admit, the words tasting like defeat.

Barty makes a sound that might be agreement, but it's too soft to tell. "I know," is all he says, but the sentiment hangs heavy between you.

You swallow hard, the action painful against your dry throat. "I feel broken."

That gets a reaction out of him. Barty pulls back slightly, just enough to look you in the eyes. His expression has hardened—not at you, but at the implication that you see yourself as less because of this. "Don't," he says, his voice firm as steel. "Never say that again."

Surprise skitters across your features, your eyes widening slightly under his intense gaze.

"You're not broken. You're not damaged goods. You're human, and sometimes being human comes with a brutal cost. But you? You're not the problem here."

Your gaze drops, unable to hold his, but a hand at your chin tilts your face back up. There's a firm gentleness in the action, forcing you to meet his eyes once more.

"I don't pretend to know everything you're feeling. But I understand what it means to fight a battle within yourself, to feel like your own mind is a warzone. And I know what it's like to have someone stay despite that."

His confession hangs in the air between you, a testament to something deeper than friendship. His thumb brushes against your cheek, a tactile anchor amidst the turmoil.

"Let me stay."

You don't respond, but you don't need to. Instead, you lean into him, resting your head against the crook of his shoulder. It's answer enough, and Barty seems to understand, for he makes no move to leave.

Time passes, marked only by the crackling of the fire as it burns down to embers. The tension in your body begins to ebb, replaced by a strange calm that settles over you like a blanket. Barty remains beside you, his arm a comforting presence around your shoulders, his gentle humming barely audible above the soft sigh of the wind outside.

His fingers trace light patterns on your cheek, coaxing the tension from your body. You close your eyes, letting the world narrow to the sensation of his touch, the steady rhythm of his breathing.

"See?" Barty's voice is a whisper, barely disturbing the silence. "The world is quieter with me here."

For tonight, at least, you choose to believe him.

[crescenthistory]

in one of your posts you mentioned barty giving a best man speech at r and regulus’ wedding, it’d be nice to see your take on the full speech or like a wedding oneshot? love your work btw i adore how you characterise barty

are you taking emoji anons? id love ✂️

hey there babes<333 you can absolutely be ✂️ if you want to tell me your age and pronouns i’ll add you to the list 🫶 and thank you, i love and miss barty as well

unfortunately i don’t think i’d be the person to write a full length wedding fic 🥲 it’s just not my vibe. i might write blurbs referencing it, bring it up in fics (like with the fifth and sixth wheel series) or write out some funny dialogue i think i’d see, but beyond that weddings are so intricate and personal that i’d struggle getting it in a reader insert format

however, i present to you some random thoughts:

when i write reg x reader, i always imagine barty as trying to be both reader’s man of honour and reg’s best man lol

like he would CAMPAIGN to get to be both. and he’d likely win

i fear you’d have to share him and then have one more for each that’s just yours (for slytherin!reader i picture you have dorcas and he has evan or pandora) (potentially, reg has sirius and you have remus)

barty would by far be the most chaotic in the wedding party, but i believe he brings the kind of chaos those friend groups need to get through something as hectic as a wedding

he would have the “go, go, go!” attitude and the nerve to say “shut the fuck up” when needed

and you best believe that if anyone else cause drama, he’d be at their NECK. he threatens sirius from start to end of the wedding, even though he is on his best behaviour and super happy for his baby brother (fighting with him is just instinct for barty)

most of the black family were not invited and barty places evan at the door to ensure they do NOT try to sneak their way in. if they do, well then barty gets an opportunity to let out some steam

i can picture barty taking on an almost bridezilla persona as the best man to take some of the heat and stress off of you and reggie — he is the bad guy so you don’t have to

if you do end up having some kind of meltdown over the planning, his energy would switch up sooo fast and he would be the most caring, gentle creatures, cooing and cradling you while snapping at whoever’s closest to go get reggie

as for speeches, i think barty and sirius make the two “main” speeches, while dorcas makes a small toast and pandora recites a poem

i just knowwwww barty’s speech would have people so torn between cackling with laughter and tearing up — truly, they get whiplash, every other sentence is hilarious and heartwarming

(barty is seemingly none the wiser that people have to catch their breaths from the energy changes)

“i didn’t expect junior to make me so emotional”

he has known you and reg since first year, so he tells alllllllllllll the stories; the good, the bad, the pining and the embarrassing

i don’t want to talk about sirius’ speech because he’d definitely say he was incredibly proud of regulus and happy he has found love, and i cannot take that

it wouldn’t be the biggest wedding, just the people you truly considered family; it was perfect

[nikholascr0w]

Evan Rosier headcanons !!!

Character hc list master post

• I get very gay demiromantic asexual vibes from Evan

• man SUCKS at communication, he’d rather eat foam insulation than have an honest talk about his emotions

• befriends Barty within like 10 minutes of getting on the train, he just thinks Barty's funny cause he's not used to people acting so improper

• Evan’s really smart but he has to work his ass off for it. (Barty and his naturally smart ass piss him off so bad during exams)

• lactose intolerant and he bonds with Reg over it while Barty teases them both

• also the type of lactose intolerant person who’s favorite food is cheese and consumes a fuck ton of lactose anyway

• he's a really good artist and he doodles roses on every piece of parchment he touches

• calls Barty Bee and Bat and usually only calls him Barty when he’s annoyed or serious about something. Calls him Bartemius occasionally to piss him off

• Has 'girls' nights with Pandora and regulus where Barty just watches in awe and happily lets them paint his nails

• The only one in the group besides Pandora that can do a half decent job painting nails so he does both Regulus and Barty’s for them

• Pandora does his hair for him

• petty bitch and passive aggressive as hell

• he's a lightweight and Barty thinks it's hilarious

• almost all the slytherin first years look up to him some treat him like an older brother most are mildly scared of / intimidated by him (he's very protective of them)

• I think he was probably offered prefect but turned it down for Regulus and also because he didn’t want the formal responsibility

• Pandora and him are twins but Evan totally acts like the older brother

• Very protective of his friends and sister

• doesn't like quidditch but he's goes to watch every game for Barty and Reg

• all his clothes are pretty neat and classy at least during his first couple years of school but he has a funky sock drawer and I love him for it

• Barty pierced Evan's ears for him at 2am once after one of the rare occasions he opened up about his emotions and cried for awhile Barty probably did most of his other piercings throughout the years as well

• jealous boy

• he connects way better to animals and plants than he does to people

• frequently pulls all-nighters for good grades, mans is running on caffeine related fumes

• his favorite flowers are white roses

• not quite as plant loving as pandora or Barty but he's filled the dorm with house plants and refuses to let Barty touch a single one (he’s too competitive and he wants to prove he can take care of them on his own)

•Pandora named all his plants and put little “hello my name is” stickers that she got from Dorcas on the pots

• Evan makes the best tea and coffee you have ever tasted

• love the idea that Felix definitely loves Pandora more and Evan will never stop being bitter about it (He loves Evan too he just won't admit it)

• Felix is also obsessed with Barty and any time he goes over to the Rosier’s during the summer Felix will loudly ask why his brother can’t be as cool as Barty. Barty finds this hilarious.

• Barty calls Evan pet names like darling, babe, baby, honey, and sweetheart jokingly all the time and it drives Evan insane. He also calls Evan, E, Ev/Evs, and Evie because thats just how he shows affection

• loves reading poetry snd also dark classics

• I feel like hes an origami enjoyer

• he's super protective of kids especially ones with controlling parents cause he doesn't want them to end up like him

• he took most of the family pressure to try to protect Pandora and Felix

• Regulus and Barty set up muggle movie nights for him whenever he's upset cause they know he won't talk and the movies comfort him.

That’s all I got for now feel free to request other characters or give me your thoughts on Evan in reblogs or asks

[oh-phoenixx]

"Wound" - Jegulus microfic - 707 words

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Regulus was not one for showing his emotions, he took pride in his ability to appear indifferent even as his whole body was screaming with something contrasting. This was the first time since he was a child that he could not hide what he was feeling. Like some gaping wound, a hole in his chest, he was bearing it clearly and with shame.

What was worse was that it had gone exactly according to plan, James had been so angry and they had broken up, which is what needed to happen so that Regulus could do what he was intending to do. But what he hadn’t expected was how, more than angry, James had been sad, had cried and begged for Regulus to say that it was some misunderstanding. Regulus had nearly given in, told him everything. But he couldn’t, not with how long he had been planning this.

“You ready?” Evan asked, voice gentle. 

“Yeah, I’m ready,” Regulus agreed, standing up.

“We don’t have to do this, Reg,” Evan reminded him.

“I have to,” Regulus mumbled. “James reacted the way he was supposed to. I can’t give up the entire plan just because I didn’t anticipate how much this would hurt.”

Together, Regulus, Evan, and Barty left for the cave. Together, they emerged, Regulus still exhausted from the Emerald Potion. Together, they found each of the Horcruxes. Together, they survived.

Unsure of what else to do, Regulus suggested they go to Sirius and Remus’s flat. If anyone was going to hear him out, it would be Sirius.

Regulus knocked hesitantly and the door opened, revealing not Sirius, but James, who eyed Regulus with so many emotions that he couldn’t decipher a single one.

“Hi,” Regulus said dumbly.

“Hi,” James said back.

Requiring no further elaboration, James let them in. The four walked to the living room, where Sirius was sitting with Remus, Peter, Marlene, and Lily. Sirius’s eyes widened at the sight of his brother and, without asking for an explanation, he lunged forward and hugged Regulus.

“A year. A fucking year,” Sirius was muttering, “without a single word.”

“I’m sorry, we couldn’t…we couldn’t tell anyone,” Regulus mumbled.

As they explained, Regulus did not look away from James for even a second. Please, please understand, please love me, I love you, I never stopped. James’s expression was indecipherable, and it all felt wrong. When they were together, James had been the emotional one, wearing his heart on his sleeve, and Regulus had been carefully apathetic. This was the exact opposite, and Regulus hated it.

“Why would you do that alone? Why wouldn’t you tell us?” Sirius asked.

“You’d try to convince me not to do it,” Regulus answered quietly. “And I wasn’t alone.”

“Yeah, fuck you, we were with him the whole time,” Barty cut in, grinning. He had not shown any sign of fear or sadness in the entire year they had taken to find all the Horcruxes.

Regulus did not say another word, not until James gestured towards the kitchen so they could have a moment alone. His throat was tight with nerves, hands trembling. James rendered him incompetent, made him foolish and childish and so, so desperate.

In the kitchen, James leaned against the counter while Regulus stood opposite him, wanting to be close and not sure if he was allowed.

“I know…I know why you didn’t tell me, okay? I- I get it,” James started, “but that doesn’t mean that I can suddenly be okay with what happened. You…you still got the mark, you still left for a year. I can’t just move on from those things.”

“I’m not asking you to,” Regulus assured quickly, then shrunk into himself a little, feeling vulnerable and exposed. “Is there…Is there no chance?”

James reached out his hand, and as Regulus took it and allowed himself to be pulled towards James, a little spark of hope warming his chest. That always was the effect James had on him. Nothing had changed, not really. Save a mark on his forearm and a few new scars, Regulus was the same person he had been. He hoped James could see that.

“Of course there’s a chance, Reg,” James whispered into Regulus’s hair. “I’ll always give you a chance.”