#barty x evan x y/n

[ailoda]

updated: 16.12.24

˚☽˚.⋆ poly!rosekiller

Rosekiller & Their 'Platonic' Girlfriend (❤☺): when they find out it's not exactly platonic. (@ellecdc)

(❤): Barty and Evan Help You Ward Off a Creepy Guy at the Pub. (@ervotica)

[crescenthistory]

hi! i have this really cute idea for regulus x fem! reader. so reader is a animagus and it’s winter time so sometimes she’ll shift into a their animal form, preferably a cat, and goes seek out warmth. but reader is also besties with remus and knows he’s a werewolf, his body temperature runs a lot warmer then anyone else so she goes to room to cuddle. when that happens, regulus immediately knows they reader is with remus and, begrudgingly, goes to gryffindor to steal reader back.

when he gets there, sirius is pouring and complains to reggie that “your girlfriend is stealing my boyfriend” and regulus snaps back by saying “well your boyfriend is stealing my girlfriend” and reader and remus are amused but their bickering but don’t care.

anon. anon. i am giving you the BIGGEST kiss, you don't even know. this is perhaps the best idea i've seen in a while and so i love you. i will be thinking about this throughout all of winter, thank you.

Words: 3k

Warnings: not proofread, fem!reader, references to previous black brothers angst, disgusting amounts of fluff, best friends can cuddle platonically regardless of gender i will fight you on this, background rosekiller and wolfstar, childhood best friend!remus, implied gryffindor!reader, sirius pretends to be jealous but is not

Note: read more about cat!animagus!reader's shenanigans with regulus, wolfstar and james in Sweet Like Honey; Karma is a Cat & Padfoot vs. Whiskers

When Regulus accepted Sirius’ attempt to mend their relationship, he had expected to get his big brother back in full and no more. The person who understands him best, the boy he needed to lean on – it was all he wanted to get out of it. Perhaps he expected to have to grown tolerant of his brother’s friends, but that was something he dreaded, if he at all thought of.

What Regulus had not expected was to be introduced to and fall head over heels in love with you.

Remus’ childhood best friend, the more reserved one of the bunch that he had always seen floating around with them, but whose voice he had never had to roll his eyes at, thus never interacted with. It bewildered him now how he once upon a time barely thought of you, regarded you.

Now he knew you were delightful, and Regulus was positively smitten.

It had been exactly what Regulus had never thought he would get – an easy love. Like your friends, you were open and honest and loyal to the bone, and it spilled over like honey into your relationships with those around you. Once you caught a glance of his clearly lovestruck eyes, you melted, and the puddle was caught delicately in his hands.

Since then, that is where he has held you. In the palms of his hands, close to his heart. He learned more than he perhaps wanted to know about himself during the process of opening up to you, and you showed him a patience he still is not entirely certain he deserves. But you gave him your time, your moments, your touches and your lips, and he received and received without complaint.

When the two most important people in Regulus’ life – one a fervent, natural devotion, another a sassy, passionate rivalry – were in the same hazardous circle of loud-mouthed Gryffindor friends, he eventually had to capitulate that he could no longer just tolerate them. They were family.

God, what love has cost him.

Regulus walked into his dorm room where you have spent more days than not for the past few months, and sighed defeatedly when all he finds there is Barty laying on top of Evan in some odd position that cannot possibly be comfortable.

“Hello to you too, Black. Thrilling to see you.” Barty’s voice was laced with sarcasm, but there was no menace there as of yet.

“Yeah, yeah,” Regulus grumbled as he threw his bookbag onto his bed and sat down. “You seen Y/N lately?”

“You mean since you were all snuggled up this morning? Nah.”

Regulus rolled his eyes painfully hard at his oldest friend, murmuring a soft sod off before tossing whatever was closest – his pyjama t-shirt – in Barty’s general direction, missing by a good metre. He is a seeker and not a chaser for a reason.

“What of it, Reg?” Evan mumbled, but it was distorted by Barty’s elbow being more or less shoved into his mouth. He could never sit still.

“Just figured she’d be here, ‘s all. She finished class before me.” Regulus falls down onto his bed, curls spilling onto the emerald sheets as he stares at the ceiling, picturing you there and then immediately kicking himself for being that down bad. Then reminding himself with the therapy-speech Sirius has been teaching him, love is a strength not a weakness, it’s good to feel your feelings. Yada yada. "It's been a long day."

“Maybe she got tired of your sorry ass.” Barty laughed at his own joke only to be smacked by Evan’s finally-freed hand.

“Or yours, you sod.”

“Nah, Treasure absolutely adores me.” Barty propped himself up to flash you both a grin. “See, unlike you, I’m fun.”

“Interesting word to substitute insufferable with.” Evan said, leaning his face up from underneath Barty, as if to intimidate him.

“You love me,” Barty drawled before kissing the blond soundly.

“Would you guys please stop flirting?” Regulus’ voice was closer to a groan than anything else. He pressed the backs of his hands to his eyes, seeing stars and thinking of you. Stupid poetic feelings.

“Just because you can’t keep track of your girl doesn’t mean we can’t enjoy ourselves.” Barty pointed an accusatory finger at Regulus. “I would classify that demand as rude.”

“Bite me.”

“Only if your girlfriend says yes.” This time it was Evan’s turn of tuning into Regulus’ torture.

“And she would.” Barty winks at him.

This time it’s a pillow Regulus throws at them, and it lands perfectly, smack in the middle of Barty’s face.

“Oi!” He calls as he throws it back. “Either you quit it, or you throw me your jumper, it’s freezing in here.”

“You’re literally in bed, Barty.” Regulus looks at him, unamused. “Just–”

He trails off, gaze falling from Barty to the wall behind him as he pieces the puzzle together and realisation dawns on his face. The other boys seem to have caught on as they both cock their heads curiously at him. 

“Of course,” Regulus whispers, first in marvel and then it morphs into something between exasperation and disgust. “Of course.” At last, he gets a determined look on his face, slapping his palms on his knees as he sits up from bed and grabs his jumper to go.

“Excuse you, what just happened?” Barty says, increasingly louder throughout his sentence as he realises Regulus is headed for the door, thick wool jumper tucked under his arm. “Hey!”

Regulus throws the boys a look over his shoulder, smirking at them and shaking his head before shutting the door and walking off. He barely catches Evan’s “shush, you baby, I’ll warm ya” before he is out of earshot.

A man with a purpose and half a plan stalks off, beginning the treacherous journey from the Slytherin dungeons to the Gryffindor dormitories.

What is the single thing Regulus knows can keep you from him when you’re otherwise attached at the hip? The cold.

What is the one person you go to for anything and everything, especially dealing with the cold? A certain ragged boy with a wolfish smile that he knows is to be found only behind the portrait of an increasingly annoying woman.

“Password?” The Fat Lady asked, quirking a brow ridiculously high as she regards Regulus with a mutual disgust.

“Catulus leonis.” Regulus does not bother holding back the eyeroll at the ridiculous passphrase.

She looks at him a moment or five longer than she needs, almost as if considering not letting him in despite his answer being perfectly correct, before she finally swings open the door wordlessly.

Regulus mutters a harsh thank you, Pureblood upbringing having knocked some politeness into him he is just not able to forego, no matter how severe his beef – as Sirius says – with the woman is.

When he finally approaches the offending dorm, the door opens fast enough to knock some wind across his face, and he is met with a set of black curls and a superfluous frown that both match his own.

“Regulus. Thank Merlin.”

“Good to see you too, Siri. How'd you know it was me?”

"Recognised your footsteps. Now, c'mon."

Regulus pushes in past his brother and his eyes immediately find Remus Lupin’s bed. To the unaware, it would just look like the scrawny boy was innocently laying on his bed, head propped against a mountain of pillows and reading another one of his paperbacks.

However, Regulus knew better and could see the perfect girlfriend-shaped lump underneath Remus’ jumper, shielded by his arms as he held his book over his stomach.

Or, at least shaped like this rather specific form of his girlfriend.

“Hello, amour, I’ve been looking for you.” Regulus’ voice is addressed to the bump on Remus’ chest, but he looks up at him with a quirked brow and a smug smile tugging on the corner of his lips.

“Didn’t know we were on a pet name-basis, Reg. Good to know.” 

“Absolutely not.” Sirius and Regulus chorus at the exact same time, and Regulus fights back the wince at how painfully similar they are in this moment.

“Reggie,” Sirius finally whines. “Your girlfriend’s been stealing my boyfriend for the past two hours. Do something!”

Despite having a very similar sentiment settled in his own chest, Regulus gives his brother a pull yourself together look as he comes up to stand beside him, near the occupied bed. “I’m fairly certain your boyfriend has stolen my girlfriend equally as much,” he tuts.

“Whatever, just do something.” Sirius waves his hand towards Remus’ still very relaxed state with something a bit too close to a pout forming on his face.

“There’s no need to be jealous, Pads, the poor girl’s just cold,” Remus chides, with a teasing glint in his eye that clearly shows he knows his boyfriend is being dramatic for the bit and not actually upset. "Gotta help 'er out."

“‘M not jealous. I’m needy.” Sirius’ deadpan stare is not affected by Remus’ laughter nor Regulus’ barely-contained snort.

“Glad you admit it,” Regulus says slyly, patting Sirius on his shoulder twice, who immediately shrugs his hand off with a scowl.

“Like you’re any better, you slithered all the way up from the snake pit to fetch her. At least I’m open about it.”

Before Regulus has the chance to retort, Remus puts his book down in his lap and reaches out a hand for Sirius, which he immediately takes. “I told you you could come lay in the bed with us, love,” Remus murmurs and swipes his thumb over the back of Sirius’ hand.

If he did not feel the same way, Regulus would have given Sirius hell for how he seemed to absolutely soften in the sunlight of his boy. “Yeah, I know, Moons, I’m just being theatrical.”

Remus laughs once more, and this time his chest rumbling results in a distinct prrrt! coming from the inside of his jumper. Up through the collar, cheek smashed against Remus’, comes the tentative head of beautiful grey-and-white fur and slow-blinking yellow eyes, still riddled with sleep. 

“Good morning, amour,” Regulus coos, ignoring Sirius’ snort as he drops down to squat beside Remus’ bed so his face is lined up with yours.

You pur, stretching beneath the fabric, a single paw escaping beside your head through the collar as you roll over onto your back. Your eyes remained trained on Regulus, and though he knows cats can’t actually smile, he swears you were smiling at him.

“Sorry to wake you, princess,” Sirius drawls as he looks down at you from where he is leaning on the bedpost beside Remus. “But have you seeped up enough warmth for me to get my boyfriend back yet?”

You make a faux hissing sound before ducking your head down, so it’s just barely hidden by the collar.

Remus laughs heartily, setting his book completely away this time so his hand can come up to rest on your cat-form, petting you through his jumper. “It’s alright kitten, take your time.”

The exposed paw lightly hits Remus’ cheek in retaliation, and this time it is Sirius and Regulus’ turn to laugh at his expense. “Ow! I share my warmth with you and this is what I get in return?”

From the movement beneath the fabric, Regulus assumes you’re nuzzling your head against his chest in apology.

“Amour, I brought your favourite jumper of mine and promise to make you so much hot cocoa if I can steal you back. We can be in your dorm room instead of mine, it’s warmer in there, right?” A smile remains consistent on Regulus’ face as he talks to you.

Sirius pats him on the back, murmuring something about you’re so whipped that he doesn’t bother to pay attention to. 

More movement beneath the fabric, and then suddenly your ears are poking out of the neckline again – because why would you make it easy for yourself and use the big exit, when you can squeeze your way through a tight opening? You’re a cat after all.

Remus seems to be thinking the same as he laughs while you attempt to climb out beside his head, soft fur brushing against his skin and making up for the occasional claw you use for traction. 

Regulus attempts to bite back the coos as he sees more and more of you, recognising your movements as sluggish with sleep, no doubt coaxed into it by finally being comfortable.

“Thanks for today, see you again tomorrow, same time?” Remus teases, head turned towards you as you headbutt him lovingly, finally fully escaped from his jumper and standing on his shoulder. He nuzzles you back and scratches your head in goodbye.

Another prrrt! escapes you in greeting as you saunter your way across Remus and plop onto the small strip of mattress on his side where Regulus’ hands are open and ready to receive you. 

“Hi, sweetie,” he whispers as you allow him to scoop you up into his arms while he’s still squatting beside the bed. He holds you like an infant, tight to his body and securely supported. You immediately begin to purr loudly, nuzzling your head even further into his neck and shoulder.

Regulus does not bother to hold back the slight giggle as your caresses tickle him. 

“Good gods, are you two sappy,” Sirius groans, but when Regulus looks up, there is a wide grin on his face. A slightly teasing one admittedly, but a grin nonetheless.

Then, Regulus recognises where Sirius is grinning at him from – properly cuddled up besides Remus on the opposite side of the bed, arms beneath his jumper, soaking up the leftover warmth from you.

“Wait– how did you get there so fast?” Regulus’ voice is almost incredulous, stopping his greeting of you – earning him a harrumphing meow – to narrow his eyes at his brother. “I didn’t even notice you move from beside me.”

“What can I say; I am a dedicated man.” Sirius nuzzles into Remus’ cheek, not much unlike how you were mere seconds ago, albeit his involved a tad many more kisses.

“You’re weird, that’s what you are,” Regulus laughs as he stands up with you in his arms.

You turn around to look up at him with those big, slitted eyes of yours. When you extend your neck further towards his face, Regulus lifts you higher so you can give him the cat-kisses you so evidently wanted, his lips curling at your touch.

Sirius lifts a brow at the two of you. “Yeah. I’m the weird one.” 

Regulus scoffs at him, but when you continue to caress your furry cheeks against his lips and chin, it is difficult for any menace to remain serious.

“Thank you for your deviant supernatural warmth keeping my girlfriend alive, Lupin, but I’d like to steal her away from you now.” 

“By all means, Black, you’ve already stolen her from me once,” Remus harrumphs, pretending to be some scorned faux older brother but his eyes betray his facade; he is happy for you.

Regulus chooses to ignore it nonetheless.

“Brother.” He nods at Sirius. “Soon to be brother-in-law.” He nods at Remus. “We bid you goodnight.”

“Try not to undo all of Moony’s hard work by freezing her right back up with your freakishly cold feet!” Sirius calls after him as he heads towards the door. He then promptly gives out a soft yelp that indicates Remus corrected him in some physical way.

“Goodnight love, goodnight Reg,” Remus calls instead.

“Yeah, bye, doll!” Sirius adds, whispering more to himself, “he’s mine again now.”

You give out a tired meow that is so cute it makes Regulus’ heart clench with endearment. You cuddle properly up into the crook of his neck as he carries you out, softly closing the door behind him with a smile.

He shifts you in his grip so he can look down at you more carefully. “You are so unbelievably predictable. And even cuter than that again, which is saying something,” he murmurs to you and you respond with quiet meows.

He looks at you curiously. “Are you going to remain in cat form the whole night?”

Your tail twitches teasingly, your only other response is a quiet prrt as you close your eyes into the warmth of his neck again. He laughs, covering your feline body with his hands as he carries you, to keep the warmth in.

He sneaks into your dorm – thankfully often unoccupied as Marlene is with Dorcas and Mary is with Pandora – and settles you down onto your plush mattress and pillows. He undresses and gets ready for bed, while you’re resting your head on the pillow, observing him, but just before getting under the covers, he slips on his jumper.

“It’s so soft I could cry, Reggie,” you had whispered to him when you cuddled up to him when he wore it around you for the first time. “I fear I can never let you go now.”

Regulus slides under the blankets with a knowing smile, opening the hem, allowing you to creep under, chest against chest with your head poking out of the collar to rest at the bottom of his neck. 

“I'm no werewolf, but I’ll keep you warm with my love, amour,” he whispered to you in the dark, one hand combing through your fur protectively underneath his own jumper.

He swears, he could hear the little cat snort against his skin.

Regulus fell desperately deeper in love.

[juleswritesstuff]

Holy hands, will they make me a sinner ?

You seem to have a little secret. Regulus figures you out immediately.

regulus black x fem!reader

warnings: smut

“If you bore holes in them I won't be able to finish my essay, Y/n” 

His voice brings you back from the apparent state of trance you had unconsciously fallen into. Blinking rapidly, you regain perception of the walls of your dorm room surrounding you and the myriad of books scattered across your bed.  You shift your gaze to his gray eyes and you find them already set on you.

“Pardon ?” your voice has a confused edge that almost makes him chuckle.

“My hands” he explains, his tone as neutral as ever “You were staring”

Your eyes go a little wide, like you had been caught stealing the last chocolate frog of the stash. You swallow, trying to compose yourself as best as you can.

“I was doing no such thing” you declare, a bit too solemn and defensive to be the truth.

Regulus pins you with an unimpressed look, his left brow arching just enough to tell you that he isn't buying any of your bullshit.

A defeated sigh leaves your lips. 

It is no use hiding something from Regulus Black. He will find out one way or another, and you got caught right with your hands in the jar.

“Ok, fine” you admit, lifting your shoulders to make it seem like the most casual thing ever “I was looking at your hands”

Regulus’ expression doesn't change, but the glint of amusement flashing in his eyes doesn't go unnoticed.

“More like ogling, I would say” even his tone has a playful bite to it.

You like this side of him. The Regulus who is able to relax a bit and let go when he is surrounded by the people he is comfortable with.

But carefree Regulus also means menace Regulus apparently.

“I wasn't ogling” you grumble, rolling your eyes “I was just admiring them” 

His eyebrows furrow.

“Why ?” he seems intrigued as the question leaves his lips.

Why, he has the courage to ask.

Well the answer is that Regulus Black has the prettiest, hottest, most gorgeous hands you have ever laid eyes on.

They are elegant, slender, the little veins underneath the pale skin gracing your eyes with their presence with every movement he makes, every flex of his muscles, producing a delicious design that hypnotizes you. 

They are smooth but decorated by light calluses, undoubtedly caused by Quidditch, that create a divine contrast with his otherwise untainted skin.

His fingers are long, lean, clad in silver rings that make your mouth water with how exquisitely sultry they make him look.

And suddenly, but not surprisingly, you find yourself imagining what it would feel like to have those hands on you, exploring every inch of your body, dancing on your skin like flames dance in the cold hair of the night. The cool metal of his rings being at odds with your scorching hot skin, making you hiss as his skilled fingers create a burning path over your body, traveling everywhere. Your legs, your thighs, your hips, chest, shoulders and stopping right at your neck, wrapping delicately, reverentially around it. Worshipping the sensitive skin, feeling the erratic pulse of your heart and-

“You’re doing it again” his words interrupt your spiraling for the second time that day, sounding dry and apathetic as always, but a hint of teasing twinkles in the otherwise coldness of his eyes.

“You have nice hands, that’s all” you manage to say without giving away all the less than pure thoughts flooding your mind in that moment. “From an artist point of view, obviously” you add, shrugging, trying to make everything less than obvious.

You really hope Regulus didn't learn to cast a Legilimes in his free time, otherwise you were well and truly screwed.

Bringing up your passion for drawing is futile and you know it. You know he knows the drooling over his hands isn't for the sake of art. You can't fool Regulus Black, not even if you try to.

Which is both extremely annoying and criminally hot in your humble opinion.

But pretending is the only thing you can do to not feel embarrassed, holding onto the hope that maybe he doesn’t have you all figured out.

“So you’re saying that your interest is purely artistic ?” he cocks a brow as his head tilts slightly.

There’s something in his voice, in his eyes, that you can’t quite figure.

Your forehead scrunches in confusion.

“Yes, of course” you answer, trying to hide the stutter of your voice as best you can.

You are pretty sure he knows that you aren’t telling the truth, he somehow always knows. He reads you like an open book, and, for someone who doesn’t engage in showing his emotions too often, he is pretty damn good at reading the ones of others. 

So why that question ? You almost expected him to tell you to cut it out and get back to study because that essay isn’t gonna finish itself.

This is new, unexpected. 

Interesting.

“Would you like to draw them ?”

Your eyes go wide in surprise.

Wait.

What ?

Never, in all the years you have known each other, had he offered to model for you. 

He knew about you having an interest in arts, he even saw a couple of your drawings and paintings and he often asked about them and how they were coming up, but he never asked to be in them.

You never brought up the suggestion either. He is a reserved guy and he loathes having eyes on him, so you figured he would’ve never accepted even if you did.

That never stopped you from sketching him from afar, though. Those gorgeous features deserve to be portrayed.

But why the sudden proposition ?

You aren’t stupid. Regulus might know you like the back of his hand, but you could say the same about him. And this, whatever this might be, is not like him at all. 

Regulus never does anything for nothing, there is always an explanation, a reason to his every move. You think even his breaths are perfectly calculated.

But this time the why gets lost on you, and the harder you try to understand the less it all makes sense.

“I can see the gears in your brain twinsting and turning,” he says, calm and composed as ever.

He is sitting on your bed, the quill he was using to write his Charms paper now abandoned next to him. His back is perfectly straight, leaning on the headbord to support his weight. The raven strands of his hair create soft waves that frame his face in a delicate and enchanting way. His lips are stretched in a rare, playful smile, curling up slightly on the left side.

He is beautiful. Dangerously so.

“It’s just-” you are confused, there is no doubt about that, but most of all you are intrigued “You have never asked me before”

“I know” 

That’s his only answer. Simple, concise. Enigmatic. 

Just like him.

“So why now ?” 

The question escapes your lips before you can stop it. You can’t help it, curiosity is consuming you, and the possibility of learning a new part of him makes your skin tingle with excitement.

“Why not ?” he shrugs “There is a first time for everything, right ? So why not now ?”

There is still that glint of something in his eyes. You don’t know what it is, you don’t think you would be able to give it a name even if you knew, but it's there, and it’s strong.

“I’ll get my supplies then” 

You slowly get up from the bed, feeling your heart in your throat in a mix of anticipation and nervousness, and you retrieve your album and a pencil.

When you sit back down you notice that the books have been neatly stacked in a small pile next to your bed and all the papers, previously scattered all over your sheets, are nowhere to be seen.

“Figured we might need the space” he says, like he read your mind.

“Thank you”, you give him a small smile before opening your album, turning the pages one by one, until you find a blank sheet, ready to be filled.

“Where do you need me ?” 

The way he utters those words with the utmost nonchalance, apparently unaware of the effect they have on you, nearly sends you into cardiac arrest.

Everywhere, you think, before mentally smacking yourself.

You need to get a grip, for Merlin’s sake.

“Right there is fine,” you're able to say without your voice faltering “just angle your hands towards me, so the light is right”

He does as he is told, adjusting his position and moving his hands a bit to the right, veins in full display and rings shining under the warm rays of the sunset seeping through the window.

“That’s good” your mouth is suddenly dry as you gulp at that sight.

He is a bit far, and the light doesn’t hit as perfectly as you had expected, but you’ll work with it. If squinting your eyes a bit is the price to maintain your mental sanity then so be it.

Then you start drawing. The only sound filling the room is the gentle scraping of your pencil as your eyes focus on the white sheet in front of you, your gaze shifting to his hands ever so often to take a peek at them, like you haven't learnt every detail by heart.

You can feel his eyes on you. You try not to focus on it, but the shivers those pools of the color of a summer storm send down your spine are difficult to ignore.

“You’re straining your eyes” he blurts out of the blue. And it’s not a question.

Observant as always.

“It’s fine,” you assure him, your gaze never leaving the paper “this distance is good for perspective” 

“But it’s a problem for the lighting”

Those words make you lift your head up, your brows knotted in a frown.

How does he-

“And what would you know about the lighting ?” you eye him suspiciously, a small grin curving your lips.

“I guess all your rambles about that muggle painter weren’t in vain” he says, and there’s a cheekiness in his tone that is completely new to you “Caravaggio, right ?”

Your grin turns into a full smile.

“Right,” you nod, your eyes widening a little “I can’t believe you actually remember”

“I remember a lot of things,” he remarks defensively.

“Only those important enough to you” the teasing in your voice is light, playful, as your pencil glides on the sheet swiftly, adding strokes and shadows here and there.

There’s a beat of silence.

One second. Two. Three. And then-

“Exactly”

Your hand halts every movement, freezing completely. You look up from your paper and you find his gaze already on you.

Suddenly you are lost. Your heart is beating so fast you wouldn’t be surprised if he was actually able to hear it.

The implications of that single word swirl in your brain, creating a hurracane of thoughts that almost gives you whiplash. 

He doesn’t give you the time to even think properly about what he may have just suggested, because he decides to speak again. 

“I can come closer if you need me to” his voice is lower, deeper, oozing with that same something he’s had in his eyes since he caught you staring at his heavenly hands.

You want to scream. You have no idea of what the hell is going on and it’s confusing the shit out of you.

You know he is asking for that forsaken drawing you still have in your lap, but it somehow doesn’t feel like it. The electricity in the room is so high it feels like an open cable sending sparks flying everywhere, setting the air on fire. 

The only coherent thought in your brain is a chorus of yes, please and nothing else.

So you cave.

“You can,” you manage to say, because the necessity to protect your sanity might be strong, but the need to have him close to you is apparently stronger “if you want to”

His gaze is so penetrating you feel it in your soul, consuming you from the inside out and setting your whole body ablaze.

It’s compelling, hypnotizing even. 

“This is not about what I want, Y/n”

Oh, the way those words leave his perfect lips, making shudders erupt all over your body should be studied. 

Your world shifts on its axes and it starts spinning ten times faster. Because he knows. 

He knows. 

“We're not talking about art anymore, are we ?” you ask, swallowing soundly as your breath gets stuck in your throat.

“Were we ever talking about that in the first place ?” his question is rhetorical. He doesn’t need an answer because he already knows it. He figured you out, like he always does.

So what was the point in pretending anymore ?

“No,” you admit “I guess we weren't” your trembling hands move the paper out of the way.

There is a spark in his eyes. It’s foreign, thrilling even, and it makes your skin prickle in the best way.

Suddenly he moves. He shifts his weight forward, approaching you slowly. The veins in his arms and hands bulging from the pressure and knocking the air out of your lungs in the process.

“So tell me” he whispers, crawling to you bit by bit, like a hunter advancing towards his prey. He seems to be calm, poised, totally in control of his body as he comes closer and closer.

It’s his eyes that betray him. 

They have always been the window to his feelings, talking more than his mouth even did. And right now they are burning, engulfed by a heat that makes your legs weak and your heart roar. The realization hits you, a rush of adrenaline running through your veins.

They are hungry.

“Tell you what ?” you stutter, unable to regain a hold of yourself. You can’t breathe, your palms are sweaty, you feel hot all over and he is close, so damn close.

He stops right in front of you, mere inches between your faces and a tension so heavy you can cut it with a butter knife.

“What you want” the warmth of his breath delicately caresses your skin. Your tongue darts out to wet your lips, his eyes following the movement intently almost making you squirm under his gaze.

“You seem to know what I want” you murmur breathlessly, your body heating up in response to his proximity. 

Those hands, protagonists of some of the filthiest dreams you’ve ever had, are right next to you. Close enough to graze the skin of your thighs with his knuckles, but never indulging in the act. Like he is teasing you, waiting for you to beg for it. You shift your gaze to them and you swallow hard, the need to feel them on you growing stronger every second that passes. 

You are about to fucking combust.

His silver eyes are still fixed on you, intense and magnetic, as they follow your line of sight.

“I won't move a muscle unless you tell me to, Y/n” 

Those words, mouthed so close to your lips and mixed with the low, velvet-like husk of his voice, make your legs clench and your stomach churn in the best way possible.

You can’t take it anymore.

You move forward, abandoning your position on the bed to place your legs on each side of his hips, almost straddling him. Your hands are on his shoulders, helping you to keep your balance, feeling the lean muscles underneath the shirt as you hover over him.

His head tilts up, eyes sharp and hot and glued to yours. You hear him suppress a hiss as your thighs brush his hips. His arms are still next to him, hands gripping the sheets so hard his knuckles turn white.

He is restraining himself. From touching you. 

Your thoughts are clouded, your mind hazy and completely out of it. The only thing you want right now is for him to place those perfect fucking hands on you and never stop.

“Do it” your voice is so weak and breathy it’s a miracle he hears you.

“Do what ?” he mouths, so close to your lips it makes your head spin.

You’re needy, desperate even, but you don’t care. You don’t have time to think right now. You want to feel.

“Touch me” you beg.

“Where ?” he sounds just as gone as you are, and you finally crumble.

“Everywhere”

It’s nothing more than a whisper but it shakes the both of you like an earthquake. 

You meet in the middle, your lips colliding and completely knocking the breath out of you.

His mouth is sinful, greedy, chasing yours with a hunger that almost makes you melt on the spot. You get lost in the softness of it, in the ungodly brush of your tongues making you moan breathlessly. You bite and nibble and lick and he follows you, matching the languid pace just as eagerly, as your hands tangle in his hair, pulling at the black strands delicately. The low groan that escapes his throat sends goosebumps all over you.

You are so focused on the filthy dance of your mouths that you almost miss the agonizingly slow graze of his fingers on the exposed flesh of your legs, gently tracing a path on your thighs.

The metal of his rings meets the hotness of your skin and you hiss.

Oh, it’s just as delicious as you imagined.

“Ah- fuck” you pant, millimeters away from him. Your head feels light, dizzy. 

You feel like you’re dreaming, lost in your own fantasies.

But his hands running up and down your thighs feel too fucking good to be just a product of your imagination. They travel slowly, excruciatingly so, making you lose your mind with every new inch of skin they explore. 

Until they sneak under your skirt, reaching your hips to gently knead the supple skin, applying enough force to bring you forward.

“Sit” It feels more like a plea than an order but-

Holy shit.

A gasp escapes your mouth before you can stop it.

Every cell of your body threatens to explode as he pushes your weight on him all the way, making you straddle him completely.

“Fucking finally” he curses, more to himself than to you, like he has been waiting for this moment his whole life.

His eyes are dark, fogged up by lust and need, and it's the lewdest thing you have ever witnessed.

“I have never seen you like this” you whisper directly on his lips, nibbling on the plush flesh.

He smirks, smirks for Salazar's sake, as his fingers move, reprising their mission to make you lose every ounce of control.

“It seems you were busy looking at something else”

His thumbs rub the skin of your inner thigh in a hypnotizing manner, sending bolts of electricity down your spine.

You whimper as they get closer and closer to your core, your grip on the junction between his neck and shoulder tightening in pleasure.

But he must take it as some sort of sign of discomfort because he halts suddenly.

“Want me to stop ?” his eyes search for yours, the veiled concern in them making your heart stutter.

“Don’t you even dare” you say, a mere breath away from him before you dive in, capturing his mouth again.

It's messy and dirty and you get addicted to his taste way too quickly.

His hands move up, massaging your skin at every caress of your tongues, until they reach the hem of your panties.

He moves away from your lips for a quick moment, and he looks at you.

The silent ‘Can I ?’ written in his eyes almost makes you swoon.

You nod your head.

“I need words, chérie” he whispers sensually.

The combination of his right hand so close to your most sensitive spot, his left one traveling up to your hip, holding it tightly, posessivly, and that fucking pet name almost make you cum on the spot.

“Yes” you practically beg.

Only then he resprises his journey of exquisit torture along your body.

“Shit-” you quiver as he kisses your neck, branding the sensitive skin with his lips and teeth. His hands move, fingers skilled and sinful as they reach your heat.

You mewl as they make contact with the light material of your underwear.

“Jesus Christ” hs hisses a groan “you’re soaked”

A series of choked out whimpers leaves your lips as he strokes his fingers over your panties, feeling your wetness through the fabric.

“Fuck- Reg” a moan ripples from your lips when his thumb brushes your clit tentativley, making you gasp. Your hands fly to his hair, lightly pulling the soft strands with trembling fingers.

“Look at you, all horny and needy over my hands” his voice is tantalizing but you can hear the breathlessness, the strain in it. He is affected by this just as much as you are and it makes you go almost feral.

“Please” you breathe. You don’t even know what you’re begging for. Your mind is too hazy, too fogged up by lust and need to have a single coherent thought in it.

But he sure does know, because his digits move your panties to the side, just enough to glide over your slickness, making contact with the tender skin of your folds and spreading your wetness all over.

Finally, finally the hands consuming your every thought are on you, right where you had craved and imagined them the most.

You arch your back in ecstasy, biting your lip.

And it’s when his middle finger eases inside of you, slowly breaching your velvety walls, that you lose it completely.

The air gets knocked out of your lungs, liquid fire engulfs every cell of your body, every nerve and muscle consumed by pleasure.

“Regulus-” it’s the only thing you manage to mewl as he slides in and out of you in a rhythm so sensual and sultry it makes you melt. The cold metal of his ring meets the warm, sensitive skin of your cunt with every prod, creating a delicious contrast.

You never break eye contact, your gazes locked together drinking in every little detail, every wave of bliss swimming in them.

“Is this what you fantasized about, love ?” he pants right on your lips “All the times I caught you staring, is this what you were imagining my hands doing ? Fucking you senseless, feeling how tight and needy you are ?”

His words are as dirty as his eyes as he slides another finger into you, making you inhale sharply and stretching you out so good you could almost cry. 

“Ohmygodyes” you moan as your hips start moving to their own accord, meeting the prodding of his fingers eagerly, riding his hand like it’s the last thing you’ll ever do.

“But this is not the only fantasy you have, right chérie ?” he teases, going faster, harder, pumping mercilessly and leaving you a blubbering mess.

His left hand leaves its place on your hip and moves up, grazing the soft skin of your stomach, the supple and tender flesh of your breasts, the natural dip of your collarbones, worshipping every inch of your skin in their path, until they reach their goal.

“I bet you thought about this too, didn't you ?” 

You were always sure this would remain just one of your daydreams, the kind of dirty thought that should remain in your mind and nowhere else. But Regulus Black was Regulus Black and reading you was one of his favorite hobbies.

It still comes as a surprise, though, when he delicately wraps his hand around your throat, resting it there, feeling every pulse of your heart, every pump of your blood and adorning your neck with the prettiest fucking necklace you could ever ask for.

“Yes” it’s nothing more than a breath, but it sends him into a frenzy. His right thumb rubs your clit relentlessly, adding to the unforgiving pace of his fingers sliding in and out of you with lewd, wet squelches. The whimpers coming out of your mouth are raw, filthy and downright pornographic as you feel your orgasm approaching.

Your head is in the clouds, a hundred thousands miles from earth as the only thing you can focus on is the feeling of his hands on you, fucking you to your release as the one on your neck squeezes the faintest bit, enough to almost send you over the edge.

His left thumb leaves its place right above your jugular, moving upwards to caress your jawline, your cheek and, lastly, your lips.

You can feel the digit caressing the red, bitten flesh, brushing it with reverence, worshiping it with his whole being. His heated gaze is bewitched, entranced by your mouth parting, welcoming him past your lips, and lightly grazing the pad with your teeth before enveloping it wholly.

“Bloody fucking hell, Y/n” he rasps, voice low and dangerously close to pleading as you suck on his thumb like it's the tastiest treat you have ever put in your mouth.

The hand on your cunt speeds its pace, pounding in and out of you like a fucking machine, the vibrations on your little bundle of nerves getting more intense by the second, sending you over the edge in a mess of moans and whimpers.

“Reg, fuck, I'm-”

You reach your release with his name on your lips, back arched and hips rolling to help you ride your orgasm on those unholy fingers of his. 

Your vision is blurred, your brain fuzzy and overwhelmed by bliss as you slowly come back to your senses.

It takes you a few seconds to regain control of your body and mind, but when you do you are graced with a vision you are sure you will never forget.

The ever composed and collected Regulus Black is right in front of you with his expression contorted in pure lust, eyes bleary and unfocused, hair tousled by your hands relentlessly stroking them, lips red and glossy from the heated kisses, tie loose, crooked and shirt crumpled.

He is a mess.

The hottest mess you have ever seen.

You're still not fully out of your head space when he speaks again.

“You're loud” he grins, his tone teasing but still a little raspy.

“You're filthy” you bite back weakly, your voice hoarse and strained. 

“Maybe. But I don’t think I'm the only one” 

The fingers that have been inside of you not even a moment ago are now in front of you, coated and glistening with your essence.

He slowly brings them closer to your mouth, and you don't even think twice before eagerly welcoming them inside it.

The taste of yourself mixes with the metallic tinge of his rings as you suck leisurely, restraining a moan before he takes them out with a wet pop.

“Sale fille” he groans in french, lowly and right on your parted lips, before he dives in an alluring kiss. (Dirty girl)

It's slower than all the others you shared, but it's deeper, sensual and it almost gets you worked up all over again.

His tongue meets yours in a erotic dance and when the taste of your very essence coats his tastebuds a moan rumbles in his throat.

“You're sweet” his voice is nothing more than a whisper as his teeth nibble at your lower lip gently.

“Want me to find out if you're sweet, too ?” You offer with a teasing smile on your lips . His hands might be your biggest fantasy, but they sure as hell are not the only part of him you fantasize about.

“Eager, are we ?” he teases playfully, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear “Not today, chérie”

The little pet name creates butterflies in your stomach and makes your cheeks warm, but doesn't hide your disappointment. 

“Why ?” you ask, your hands going to fiddle with his tie.

“As I told you, this is not about what I want” he explains, his arms circling you in a loose hug “and I don't know if you noticed, but it's pretty late”

You furrow your eyebrows in confusion, and only then you realize that the sun has already set and the room would be totally surrounded by darkness if it wasn't for the few magic candles lighting up automatically when twilight hits.

Your eyes widen.

“How long have we been here for ?” your voice has a panicked hint to it, making Regulus laugh.

“I'm pretty sure dinner is getting served right now” he says nonchalantly, like it's the most normal thing ever to engage in sexual activities with your best friend and miss supper because of it.

“Which might be for the best,” he adds.

“Why ?” you ask in genuine confusion.

“Because I’m the only one lucky enough to hear your dirty little sounds” he says with a shit-eating grin before kissing you again.

Thank you for reading ��

[novvabee]

could you write about the mauraders when they go to the shrieking shack for the full moon and there’s another werewolf? Idk something like that

ooooo, this gave me a really fun idea, hope you enjoy 💗

The Deer, The Dog, And The Two Wolves

summary: remus meets another wolf

word count: 2.3k

“I mean, did you see her? Talk about fit!” Sirius laughed, walking through the portrait into their common room. He was talking about the new girl, the girl who had started halfway through the semester.

Poor girl was paraded in front of the whole school for her sorting. She was obviously embarrassed and uncomfortable to be the center of the whole school’s attention.

“Too bad she was sorted into Slytherin,” Sirius said as he threw himself across a sofa in the middle of the common room, “I would have liked to get to know her.” This made Lily and Mary scoff from the opposite couch in front of the fireplace.

“Why’s she starting in the middle of the semester?” James asked.

“Maybe she just moved here.” Lily supplied.

“Lucky her,” James said, “she just missed midterm exams.” Everyone chuckled at that.

While everyone was conversing and laughing, Remus had dread looming over him. His muscles began to ache and he could feel the effects of the approaching full moon. The moon would be tomorrow night, but Remus had been feeling it all week. After a while of chatting, all he wanted to do was crawl into bed. 

“I am quite tired,” Remus said, standing and motioning for the boys to follow. “I’ll see you guys tomorrow?”

“Yeah! Just meet us in hogsmeade.” Mary says.

Remus nods, the other boys say their goodnights and they all make their way up to their room. As soon as the door was shut behind them, Remus was falling into bed.

“What is the plan for tomorrow?” James asked, they usually had no trouble sneaking out and waiting in the shrieking shack for Remus, but this time, the girls insisted the boys come with them to hogsmeade for the day. Only Lily knew about Remus, so sneaking away was going to be harder than normal.

“I was thinking I could cut away from the group with Remus and we could head to the shack while you help Lily distract the others.” Sirius said, having planned that out fairly quickly. “That sound alright?” he asked Remus.

Remus was too tired, too weary to answer vocally so he just nodded. The boys looked at him with pity, they knew how he was feeling, so they just opted to let him sleep.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

The day spent in Hogsmeade was lovely, despite the pain and tenseness that Remus felt, he still enjoyed himself.

They made their way from shop to shop, buying candies from Honeydukes and gadgets from Zonkos. The girls begged to stop by Gladrags and the boys reluctantly agreed.

“Fine,” James said, rolling his eyes, “but only because I need a new tie.”

The group piled into the shop, the girls immediately rushing towards the new dresses and coats, Remus and Sirius turned to browse the rings and necklaces. 

Remus felt… odd. He felt the hairs on his neck stand and a chill run down his spine, immediately set on edge. He had never felt this before, a new experience for him. He put himself on high alert, scanning the shop, but seeing or sensing nothing out of the ordinary, just that unfamiliar tingle.

“Dear Merlin,” Sirius muttered from beside him. Remus followed his gaze across the shop to see Regulus. It seemed like the brothers noticed each other at the same time, because Regulus turned to his group of friends, and they swiftly exited.

“Still in a spat?” Remus asked Sirius.

Sirius huffed and replied “I don’t wanna talk about it.”

Remus left it alone, seeing as the day was going very well, he didn’t want to ruin it in any way. 

James got his tie and the girls all bought different clothes and were ready to continue on. It was getting later in the day, the sun would set soon, so Remus wanted to finish the trip.

“Butterbeer, anyone?” he asked and the whole group perked up and started down the street towards The Three Broomsticks.

Remus opened the door for the group, allowing everyone in, before stepping in himself. Once inside, that grating feeling was back. He looked around again, but was met with the same outcome, there was nothing awry. Confused, he just figured the moon was messing with his senses.

The group found a table towards the back of the pub and they all squeezed in. Remus found himself sandwiched between Marlene and James. The whole bunch was lively as ever, laughing and joking, talking about everything and nothing at all.

The witch who ran the pub asked the table for their orders and James ordered butterbeers for the whole table. So typical of James, to order and pay for everyone, spend his fortune on his friends and a good time. 

Mary gasped from across the table, making everyone turn their attention to her. “Don't look now,” she said, “but that new girl is sitting with the Slytherins.” 

The whole table snapped their necks toward where Mary was looking.

“I said don’t look!” she squealed.

She was right, the new girl was sitting next to Dorcas and across from Regulus, looking like she was in a deep conversation with them. But, almost like she felt their eyes on her, she looked over to them. The whole group tried to turn and make it look like they weren’t just staring at her(it was so obvious), but she caught Remus’s eye before he could look away.

It was like she looked directly into his soul, and there was that feeling again. Remus could have sworn she sat up straighter, taken by surprise for some reason. She narrowed her eyes at him, looked him up and down, then returned to her conversation.

Odd… 

Their butterbeers arrived and Remus put the interaction aside, deciding to just enjoy the rest of the time he had with his friends. Once the group finished, Sirius casually yawned and turned to Remus. “Fancy a smoke?” he asked. Remus nodded and exited the pub with Sirius.

They began their journey to the shrieking shack, Remus feeling the nip in the air, but also that feeling. He took a cigarette out of his jacket pocket, handed one to Sirius, then lit them both. Perhaps a smoke would ease the odd sensation. Walking in comfortable silence, taking drags of their cigarettes, the boys eventually ended up at the shack.

Remus dropped the butt of his cigarette and snuffed it out with his shoe, Sirius taking one last drag, then doing the same.

“Now,” Sirius started, “James will meet up with us but it’s business as usual right?”

Remus nodded. “Yeah, just try to stay in the forest like normal.”

“Gotcha,” Sirius replied. “Gotta lock you in now, Moons.”

Remus opened the door to the shack and stepped inside. He pulled the door closed and heard Sirius mutter the spell to magically seal him in until he transformed, then one of them would open the door and they would spend the whole night racing and playing in the woods in their animal forms.

Remus didn’t enjoy a lot of his lycanthropy, but being able to run in an animalistic way with his best mates, that was one thing he did enjoy.

Remus made his way upstairs to the old, beaten up bedroom, and layed on the bed. He began waiting for the transformation. 

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Something was off, Sirius could tell. He and James, who had broken away from the group finally, were sitting at the edge of the forest.

They heard Remus transforming, which was never easy, but this time it seemed that he was having a particularly rough time. James winced from beside Sirius and shook his head. Once they were certain he was fully changed, James magically unlocked the door.

They both transformed into their animagus form, but Remus didn’t come out. Sirius and James looked at each other and Sirius went inside to check on Remus, coax him out of the shack.

Sirius padded upstairs, expecting to see the wolf destroying something or clawing at the furniture, but he was met with a completely different scene entirely. The wolf was pacing around the room in a circle, sniffing the air and whining. When it saw the black dog that had entered, it perked up, but still looked around, as if looking for someone else.

The dog raced downstairs, goading the wolf to chase it. The wolf gave in easily and followed the dog down the stairs and out of the house where they were met with the large stag. The wolf tackled the deer, rolling and play-fighting until the wolf’s ears perked up. It snapped it’s head to the forest and bolted.

The dog and the deer had no chance to wrangle it before it slipped through the tree line and into the dark forest beyond. The dog and the deer looked at each other and then dashed after the wolf.

Sirius didn't understand what had gotten into the wolf, but raced as fast as he could to catch up.

That is when the howl came from deep in the forest. Everything stopped, the whole forest seeming to be silenced. Then the answering howl sounded.

The deer and the dog followed the sound to an opening in the forest, a small field with a large oak in the center. They expected to find Moony there, chasing something, but they were not expecting to see two wolves circling each other.

They hung back at the tree line, watching but ready to protect Remus if anything were to happen.

The other wolf was smaller, a female, but just as dangerous, still a werewolf.

The two wolves continued circling each other, tense. The smaller wolf noticed the dog and the stag at the forest’s edge, and growled, hackles raising. Moony stepped between her and his friends, protecting them, and growled deep back at her. The other wolf turned her attention to him now, focusing all her anger at him.

Moony wasn’t backing down, determined to protect the dog and the stag behind him. He clawed at her, catching her right under the eye. She wasted no time in returning the favor, and swiped right back at him, getting him good.

Moony, shocked, stepped back and sat down, like a dog asking for a treat. The other wolf blinked, then mirrored his actions. Moony pounced and ran off, the other wolf following, chasing.

They were playing. 

The dog and the deer looked at each other, then back to the two wolves, then joined in.

It was slightly harder, keeping track of two wolves rather than just the one, but at least they could rough-house with each other and not be too afraid to hurt the other, like Remus often was with Sirius or James.

The two wolves raced each other and swam in the lake, the whole group having fun, until Sirius noticed the morning light. Dawn would break soon and Remus would transform back, they needed to get him back to the shack. Moony, however, was being more difficult than normal. 

The moment Sirius and James tried to corral him and chase him back to the shack, Moony refused. He kept wandering over to the other wolf, trying to continue to play. So James and Sirius decided that both the wolves had to be wrangled into the shack, if that was the only way to get Remus back in.

That task was incredibly difficult, Moony bouncing all over the place and the other wolf threatening to snap at the boys if they got too close. They eventually managed to lock both the wolves in the shack with minimal damage.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Remus woke on the floor of the bedroom feeling more tired than he had ever been after a full moon. He felt like he could sleep for ages. His aching body needed all the rest it could get.

Small moments from the night came back to him and suddenly…

He snapped his head toward the bed to see a sleeping figure curled up in the old and torn blankets. That feeling tingled the back of his neck again. 

The figure sat straight up, feeling the same feeling. Remus knew that face, the new girl. She made direct eye contact with him, then quickly scanned the room, unsure of where she was.

He could see she was scared, so he calmly said “It’s ok, you’re ok.”

She looked at him unsure. “W-where are we?” she asked, voice a little raw.

“This is called the shrieking shack, it's where I come… to transform.” Remus answered, still trying to calm her and get her to trust him.

“You’re the wolf I was with last night?” she asked, more like putting the pieces together.

Remus nodded. “My name’s Remus.” He smiled.

“Y/N” she answered.

“Nice to meet you Y/N.” He said, noticing how she seemed to start relaxing.

“And… that dog and the deer?” she asked.

Remus chuckled, not knowing exactly how to answer that. “They’re harmless.”

She nodded and they sat in silence for a minute before she spoke again. “I didn’t know there were others… like me.” she said.

Remus didn’t know how to talk about this with anyone, he had never met another werewolf. All he could seem to do was nod.

“H-how long have you been… you know…” she asked timidly.

Remus smiled sadly. “‘I was bitten when I was really young, about three.” He answered.

Her eyes widened and she gasped. “Three!?” she looked in disbelief. “I am so sorry, you’ve had to deal with this for a long time…”she trailed off. “I was bitten a couple years ago. That's why I transferred schools, the other one kicked me out, thought that I was a danger to the other students.”

“I am so sorry,” this time it was Remus’s turn to feel bad.

She smiled sadly. “It’s ok, besides, now I know someone else like me.”

[seriousaboutsiriusblack]

James: a guy should mess up your lipstick, not your mascara

Regulus: *wearing a bit of makeup* mess up my lipstick and people will watch your body get scooped from the black lake in the news

James: …

the rest of the marauders:

[agreeeeeeeeeee]

What's My Name? - R.B.

Bully!Regulus Black x fem!reader

summary: you’ve befriended the emeralds and few other Slytherin’s. Regulus is drawn to you like a magnet, but knows you have no business associating with them or their families, so he tries to scare you off. It backfires spectacularly.

cw: MDNI 18+ Regulus tries to white fang you. degradation, bullying, toxic relationships and friend groups, future death-eaters, trauma, Black Family Angst, choking, dry-humping, p in v sex

an: Ik everyone has a different marauders!era slytherin group, so here’s a quick breakdown of my personal headcanon:

Inner circle: Regulus Black, Evan Rosier, Barty Crouch Jr., Pandora, and Dorcas Meadowes (the emeralds)

Outer circle: Severus Snape, Avery, Mulciber, Emma Vanity, Charity Burbage, Aurora Sinistra, and Wilkes.

Circle-adjacent: Lily Evans, Marlene McKinnon, and the Marauders

There is also the much darker group with Rabastan Lestrange, Thorfinn Rowle, and the Carrow’s, who actively prey on some of the others for Voldemort’s Cause.

────────────────────────

No matter how hard Regulus tried, you refused to leave his orbit. You had no business affiliating with him and his friends, and had no idea what that affiliation truly meant. It meant darkness. It meant bloodshed. It met imminent and very real danger. A war was brewing right under your nose.

Regulus had been born and bred for this, as had most of his friends, but you…you were an innocent. Intelligent, witty, trusting. As much as he tried not to care, he couldn’t stand to watch your light be snuffed out for simply existing around them: metaphorically or literally.

But no matter how many times Regulus tried to run you off, spare you from what came next, you would not heed. In fact, you seemed to take his animosity as a challenge, leaving him in the predicament of being your unwitting adversary.

You were in the Slytherin common room now, curled up by the fireplace with Pandora, Evan, Barty and a few others, doing more gossiping than studying despite the piles of books and parchment on the floor around you. The greenish light of the lake contrasted with the glow of the fire against your face, creating an otherworldly halo around you.

You hair was pulled back, revealing the slender curve of your neck, the dip in your v-neck sweater where a silver pendant rested against your clavicle.

You laughed at whatever terrible joke Barty made and Regulus rolled his eyes, turning back to the spell book in his lap. He was studying alone, having told Evan a number of times to fuck off and let him work on his assignments in peace.

“Regulus!” Emma called suddenly, and he cringed, pretending he didn't hear his Quidditch captain. “Reg!” She called again.

He closed his eyes, willing them all to disappear.

“Regulus fucking Black!” She hollered, loud enough for the whole common room to fall silent.

He clapped his book shut and stalked over to where you all were sitting, one hand in his trouser pocket, the other clamped on his book.

“Yes?” He droned, leaning against the arm chair Emma was sitting in.

“Can you help me with this?” Emma asked, holding up her Defense Against the Dark Arts homework.

Annoyance prickled along his skin. “What good is a genius pet if she doesn't help with your work?” He asked, leveling you with his coldest stare.

You tilted your head, eyes flicking from his black, curly hair to his leather shoes, and didn't respond.

“She said she wouldn't help me,” Emma pouted.

“I said I wouldn't do it for you,” you corrected.

“Barty, then?”

“No can do, Reg,” Barty responded, coughing up a lungful of pungent smoke, waggling a joint in Regulus’ direction.

Emma waved the smoke from her face. “Will you help, Reg? I have to get a good grade in the class or I could lose my spot on the team. And you know these lot are useless at spells.”

He sighed and took the assignment from her hands, flipping through the pages. It was rudimentary work, things she really should know in order to defend herself.

“Can't help you,” Regulus said, handing it back to her. “If you can't do this, maybe you should be demoted.”

The group ooooh’d at his dig.

“Reg!” Emma whined.

“Ignore him, Em. Not everyone takes to dark magic as easily as the ancient and most bitchy house of Black,” you quipped, narrowing your eyes at him.

Regulus resisted the urge to clench his jaw, feigning the nonchalance you wore like a second skin. The group swiveled to look at him.

“All magic, really. But thank you, darling,” he purred, winking at you.

“You should have seen Sirius in advanced Transfiguration last semester, he's a natural. Truly a gifted wizard,” you continued.

“Hot as fuck, too,” Evan added, just to dig the knife in a little deeper.

Regulus’ blood began to simmer, his temperature rising beneath his dark robes. He tsked under his breath, shaking his head. “I thought you'd be smart enough to not fall for his clown act.” He shrugged a shoulder. “Evidently not.”

“I wouldn't touch a Black with a twenty foot pole,” you replied, leaning back on your hands, stretching your long legs out in front of you, your skirt sitting high on your thighs.

“Who said anything about a pole?” Regulus replied, mimicking your condescending head tilt.

The group snickered, watching your verbal sparring like it was a duel.

“You sound a bit jealous, Reggie. Need a little attention?”

Reggie. His mask nearly slipped, he was so caught off guard by the nickname on your sharp tongue. “May as well, since you give it out so freely.” He glanced down at your shapely legs, punctuating his point.

Your head fell back as you laughed, your chest pressing up and tits bouncing, and he felt an irritating kick in his trouser as the heat of his anger took a new, sinful shape.

“It's the 70’s, love. Are you still so prudish?” You lifted your head, pining him with eyes fierce enough to cleave him in half.

He smirked. “Far from it. Just selective.”

“Don't see much of a selection to chose from,” you chuckled, earning another spike of laughter from the group. “What I see is a spoiled youngest son with nothing better to do than needle the people around him to fill the hole in his chest.” You got to your feet, shouldering your bag.

Regulus felt like he'd been punched clean through the sternum, your words never failing to cut to the quik.

“Spoken by a girl with nothing better to do than fish for a rich husband that might save her from her home in the gutter. Trust me, nothing can fill the hole of inadequacy, y/l/n.”

You stepped over Evan and Barty's tangled limbs and left without another word, leaving Regulus’ cruelty to echo off the glass and stone, the group silent.

Regulus turned on his heel and disappeared into the boys dormitory, guilt dogging every step.

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

The Quidditch match was in full swing, Gryffindor versus Slytherin, and the score was neck and neck. It was up to Regulus and the Gryffindor Seeker now, since neither team could get a leg up through the rings.

You sat in the stands sipping hot chocolate with Marlene, Pandora, and Dorcas, Barty pouting to your left because he couldn't sit with Evan in the Slytherin stands.

Regulus hovered a few meters away, his eyes trained upwards, catching every falling leaf and ripple of air around him. You hated how handsome he looked in his Quidditch robes, his lean body relaxed on the broom despite the stakes.

That was Regulus, un-fucking-shakeable. And it drove you insane that you could never get a rise out of him, but he managed to needle one out of you time and time again.

He was as relentless as a northern wind, and you couldn't help but be swept away.

His dark curls framed his angular face, those perpetually sleepy eyes the most arresting green. Sure, everyone thought Sirius was hot, but Regulus was beautiful, ethereal almost, and he wrapped around your mind like a constrictor.

You watched as the other Seeker suddenly took off above the Hufflepuff stands, in pursuit of something, and the Gryffindor stands cheered. But Regulus remained motionless, watching his opponent like a cat trailing a mouse. Even as Slytherin urged him to take up the chase, he remained unmoved, bidding his time.

His bottomless patience would be awe-inspiring if it wasn't so damn frustrating.

You wouldn't have an issue with Regulus, maybe even could have been friends with him, if he hadn't taken issue with you first. You had no idea what his fucking problem was, whether it was because your family was poor, you had better grades than him, or what. He loathed you from the moment you showed up in the Slytherin common room, and you've yet to receive an explanation.

You'd been saddled with a one-sided rivalry, but you'd be damned if you let him defeat you now after a full semester of back and forth.

The other Seeker pulled up short, whipping his head around like he'd lost something, and you saw Regulus crack a smirk, his canines white and sharp.

Regulus turned his head suddenly, quick like a bird, and then he was off in a blur of motion. His opponent was all the way across the pitch, entirely too far to get there in time.

A moment later— “Regulus Black has caught the snitch for 150 points! Slytherin wins!”

The Slytherin stands erupted with cheers while every other house booed, including your own. But you knew a Slytherin victory meant a rager in the dungeons, so you kept your lips sealed.

Instead, you watched Regulus land at the center of the pitch, the golden snitch held lazily between his pointer finger and thumb above his head. Any other Seeker would have been parading around the field, or flying in wide circles over the stands, screaming their head off, but Regulus was silent. His victory spoke for him.

Although, you knew he'd still be smug as fuck later.

As soon as the stands began to drain, you, Pandora, and Barty caught up with the rest of your Slytherin friends, all of them buzzing about the victory, even melancholic Severus. By the time you all reached the dungeons, a party was already in full swing.

Music thrummed along the walls, so loud it caused ripples in the Black Lake, making the emerald-tinged moonlight shift and dance along the floor. You happily accepted a shot of gin, then another before letting Evan cajole you out onto the dance floor.

Sweat pooled along your spine as the music wore on, your hair wild and loose down your back as you danced, electric energy flowing through you.

A cheer came up from the entrance and everyone turned towards the commotion. The Slytherin Quidditch team strode into the room, black robes billowing behind them. Regulus stood at the front, of course. Even from several meters away, you could see the confident glimmer in his eyes, the arrogant tilt of his chiseled jaw.

Fucking Black’s.

Like a magnet, his eyes found yours across the room, and you nearly tripped over Evan’s feet at the venom they held. But he looked away as quickly as he found you, getting swept up by the crowd and disappearing from your line of sight.

You tracked down another shot and rejoined Evan and Barty on the dance floor, squished between them in a tangle of limbs. Impossible to tell who’s hands were where, just a mess of sensation and touch. The temperature in the common room was rising expontentially, so you shed your sweater, leaving you in your skirt and a white camisole, sweat making the fabric cling to your skin.

A few songs passed like that, and a blonde guy you barely know, Rowle, you thought, took your friends place when they tapped out to smoke. You rolled your body against his, enjoying the way his thick muscles felt beneath his robes, the hungry way he was staring down at you. But you were about ready to take a break yourself, the musky smell of weed calling your name from across the room, when the hair on the back of your neck suddenly rose.

You looked around, searching for the source of your bodies response, when you locked eyes, once again, with Regulus.

He was sitting in a circle of couches against the glass wall with your shared friends, a halo of smoke around his head, a girl perched on his lap, sucking at his neck while he took a drag off of a cigarette. But his eyes were glued to you, tracking every movement you made with the same intensity he tracked the golden snitch.

Confidence wafted through you, and you wrapped your arms around your dance partners neck, letting him dip you so low your hair pooled on the floor, your tits nearly falling out of your shirt. You rolled back up slowly, articulating every vertebrae in your spine until you were chest to chest with your partner, sharing the same breaths.

From the corner of your eye, you saw Regulus choke on the smoke, dislodging the girl from his skin, and you smirked.

You let your partner turn you, showing every angle of your body, and you dropped low, circling your hips in time with the resinous goth song as you rose back up.

Regulus' cigarette hung limp between his fingers, his perfect jaw a little slack.

Emboldened, you broke away from your partner, letting yourself get lost in the sensuous, thrumming beat. Your arms rose above your head, your shoulders and hips swaying in time. It felt like you were hypnotizing him, his eyes glued to every undulation of your hips, and you couldn't recall a time where you felt more alive.

Too soon, though, the music changed to a more electro-pop vibe, and you slipped reluctantly off the dance floor, the taste of smoke beckoning you across the room.

You sauntered over to the circle, pointedly ignoring Regulus as you approached.

“There she is,” Even cooed, extending an arm to you. “You looked amazing out there.”

You smiled, sliding into his lap and taking a drag from the joint between his fingers. “Thank you, lovely.” You smiled sweetly up at him, and you could have sworn he started drooling.

“Feels even better,” Barty teased, sprawled out on the couch beside Evan, clearly a little too inebriated already.

You winked at him, and he flushed a deep scarlet. Pandora, who was resting on the floor between Dorcas’ legs, chuckled at his expense.

Regulus was quiet, per usual, watching as the group chattered around him, turning the golden snitch he caught over and over in his long fingers.

The smoke made your mind a little hazy, your tired muscles from dancing going loose, and you sagged into Evan’s side, leaning your head on his shoulder.

Regulus’ fingers tightened on the snitch, his jaw feathering, and your stomach swooped with nervous excitement. You’d never been able to rattle him before. Had you finally knocked the monolithic Regulus Black off of his axis?

“Reg, why so quiet?” Evan asked, nudging his leg with his boot.

Regulus raised a brow. “What would you like to talk about, Rosier? Fucking Junior? Or eye-fucking y/l/n?”

“We can talk about eye-fucking y/n.” Evan winked down at you, and you rolled your eyes. Avery barked a laugh from his spot on the other side of Regulus.

“Yes, let's,” Barty added, raking his willowly fingers through your hair draped over Evan’s arm. You hummed under the attention, knowing it was all in good, hedonistic Slytherin fun.

Well, almost all in good fun.

As always, Regulus couldn't let your ego inflate too much. “It's hard not indulge in a little novelty, no matter how ineffectual.”

Ouch. His words landed like barbs on your skin, but you ignored him, leaning into Barty’s attention with light moan.

Regulus shifted a little in his seat, his hands falling over his lap, and you nearly smiled. Regulus may act all high and mighty, but he wasn't impervious.

“Look at you,” Even purred, blowing smoke over your heated skin, your decolletage exposed as you stretched towards Barty. “Prettiest girl at Hogwarts, stretched across my lap.” You flushed, squirming a little in his lap, and Evan groaned. “You're torturing me, baby.”

Barty tugged on your hair, sending a skitter of pleasure down your spine and craning your head back even further. “Oh, keep doing that. He loves being tortured.”

“What a good girl,” Regulus hummed, and your pussy throbbed, soaking through your underwear. It was a rush, being admired by the heirs of some of the most powerful families in the magical world. But hearing those sweet words from Regulus, twisted into degradation, did sick things to your mind. “She's on track to graduate with her perfect, filthy-rich husband, and spend the rest of her days as mindless, fertile eye candy.”

You flinched, not that the boys noticed, and sat up a little, suddenly self-conscious in your barely-there shirt.

“We volunteer,” Avery and Wilkes said at the same time.

Evan’s arm tightened around you. “You'll have to pry her from my cold, dead hands,” he replied.

Claustrophobia clawed at your throat, but you couldn't let Regulus know how thoroughly he'd flipped your night upside down.

Wilkes drew their wand, pointing it at Evan’s head. “That can be arranged.”

“A no-name isn't worth it, children,” Regulus sneered. “Save your Azkaban trips for nobler pursuits than cunt.”

That's it. You swung your legs to the ground and rose, stalking towards Regulus. The group whistled and hooted, excited by the oncoming storm of drama.

You climbed into Regulus’ lap, straddling him and stealing the golden snitch from his hands. He was warm and solid beneath you, his expensive, amber cologne swirling with the smoke to create an addicting combination.

His hands immediately fell to your bare thighs, the cold of his rings biting into your heated flesh. His green eyes darkened, lids growing heavy as he looked up at you, his ebony lashes casting delicate shadows over his cheeks.

“Regulus Black,” you murmured in his ear while loosening his tie. His hands tensing on your thighs for a split second before he relaxed them. “You will never find someone that can withstand your thorns the way I do.”

He loosed a breath, chin lifting a little closer to your face like a wilted rose tilting towards the sun.

“You will never scare me off.” You brushed your nose along his temple, feeling his heart rate increase, his breath turn shallow. “I will ruin you, and you will thank me for it.”

Before he could respond, you slipped away, taking his prize snitch with you all the way to Ravenclaw Tower. Unreachable, even for the boy that had everything.

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

Regulus turned your words over and over in his mind, an endless, torturous loop. The others seemed obvious to his torment, prattling on and on while he burned through cigarette after cigarette, his tongue raw and throat scratchy.

Nothing would numb the ache on his chest, the pulsing strain of his cock beneath his robes. He'd already been painfully hard watching you move, watching you stretch across Evan and Barty like a contented kitten, preening under their devoted attention.

But when you climbed into his lap…fuck.

He was a heartbeat away from coming in his pants. One roll of your hips and he would have been done for, and you had no idea.

Or, maybe you did.

I will ruin you.

It was a miracle that you'd climbed off of him and stormed away, because the only thought he could formulate was please.

Eventually, he couldn't fucking take it anymore. He didn't even say goodnight to his friends, just disappeared into the dormitory and locked the door behind him.

He shirked his robe and grabbed a spare Slytherin scarf from his drawer. He flopped onto his bed and freed his aching cock, the head and angry red and shiny. He wrapped the scarf around it, squeezing hard for a semblance of relief.

“Fucking hell,” he groaned, pumping his cock slowly as your voice filled his mind again, the feeling of your weight on top of him, your sweet breath on his neck, your perfume rewiring the synopsis in his brain.

His hand started to move quicker, breath coming out in desperate pants. He imagined licking across your dewy chest, tasting the salt on your skin, gin on your tongue. Blowing his cigarette smoke over your naked body, into your open mouth. So eager and flayed open for him to ravage—his innocent lamb to ruin.

“Fuck, y/n!” Your name wrenched itself from his throat as he came hard into his scarf, imaging it was deep inside your greedy cunt. His whole body shuddered with the force of it, his jaw hanging open as he pumped himself through the orgasm until he'd milked every drop from himself, wondering if your pussy, your mouth, would do the same.

He slumped back onto the pillows, completely exhausted, and shoved the scarf under his bed.

You were right, you would fucking ruin him, ruin his plans. And he wasn't sure if he hated or loved you for it.

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

Regulus avoided you for two weeks after that party, going so far as to skip your shared Potions class entirely. It was for the better really, you still felt a little raw after that night, the dull ache of his words combined with the unresolved arousal has left you out of sorts, to put it mildly.

If you ran into him, you weren’t sure if you’d throttle or fuck him to death.

Your friends were beginning to grow suspicious of his absence, and your squirrely behavior, and, unbeknownst to you, they set a trap to bring this stand-off to a finish once and for all.

Pandora chatted animatedly beside you as you walked together down the stairs to the dungeon, ranting about something Aurora did to piss her off. When you arrived to the dungeon, she suddenly paused to tie her shoelace, waving for you to go on ahead of her into the common room.

You did, and the large green door swung shut behind you.

“No! Fuck, Dora!” Regulus was right there, banging his fist on the door.

You looked around, bewildered, only to find the common room completely deserted. Except for Regulus, of course.

“Move,” you hissed, withdrawing your wand.

“I tried everything,” Regulus huffed, a hand raking through his dark hair.

“I said move,” you repeated, pointing your wand at him.

He rolled his eyes and stepped aside, walking back into the common room. He dropped onto the couch by the fireplace, retrieving his book.

You threw every spell you could think of at the door, but it simply wouldn’t budge. “What the fuck!” You shouted, nearly throwing your wand across the room out of frustration.

“They left us a note,” Regulus said, not looking up from his reading.

You stalked over to him, finding an open piece of parchment on the coffee table. Immediately, you recognized Pandora’s loping hand.

“Just bone already.” You read aloud, and scoffed. “What the fuck does that mean?” You glared at Regulus, as if he was somehow responsible, but he still didn’t look up.

“I suspect they’re tired of our bickering,” he replied, turning the page.

“And what does locking us in the dungeon together accomplish?” You couldn’t believe this was happening. Couldn’t believe they’d lock you in a dungeon with your fucking nemesis. Your school yard bully. The bane of your goddamn existence.

Regulus shrugged. “Maybe they think you’ll kill me.”

You let out an exasperated sound and stormed away from him, trying the door to the girls dormitory.

“Locked,” he called a millisecond after you tried the handle.

“Maybe I am going to fucking kill him,” you muttered to yourself. Resigned, you sat on a chair by the glass wall, as far away from him as you could possibly get, and sulked.

You had no clue how much time passed, the only light filtering in through the murky lake. The cold leeched through the glass, chilling you to the bone, but you refused to move closer to him. You’d freeze to death in here if you had to.

“Y/l/n,” Regulus said after the fifth full body chill wracked through you. “Come sit by the fire.”

“Go fuck yourself,” you bit back, and he snorted.

“Fine, freeze.” He returned to his book, not sparing you another glance.

Your hands started to ache from the cold, your jaw sore from your teeth chattering together. With a sigh, you got up and crossed the room. Regulus still didn’t look up, though you could feel his attention shift to you as you sat directly in front of the fire, holding your hands out to it.

“You really think they’ll leave us in here all night?” You asked, staring at the dancing flames.

“Absolutely,” Regulus answered, lowering his book to his lap.

You sighed, resigned. The only way out is through. “I’ll start.”

He tilted his head, dark brows drawing together in suspicion.

You cursed under your breath, and dove headfirst. “I don’t understand why you’re so shitty to me,” you blurted, refusing to look at him. “I’ve never done anything to you.”

He was quiet for so long, you finally caved and glanced over at him, only to find him staring back at you, expression unreadable.

“Regulus,” you huffed, frustrated.

“Y/n,” he mocked, and your stomach flipped despite his attitude. He’d never used your first name before.

“Just fucking talk to me.” You straightened your spine, folding your legs on the ground underneath you, the fire at your side.

He stared at you for a few more moments, his eyes dancing back and forth, before he leaned back against the couch and picked up his book.

“You’re a lot of things, Black, but I didn’t take you for a coward.”

His eyes flickered with anger, but he didn’t bite.

“Reg,” you murmured, softening your voice, and he rolled his eyes, the most unbelievably bored expression on his face. You shifted your weight, placing your hands on the ground, and lifted to your knees. Slowly, you began to crawl to him, being careful to not sway your hips too much, and he broke after only a few seconds.

“On your knees already, darling?” He teased, but the casual tone didn’t match his eyes. The fire in them, the way his hands tightened around the cover of his book, betrayed his true feelings.

Once you were directly in front on him, you sat back on your heels. “Be honest with me, Reggie, did it turn you on seeing me with Evan and Barty?”

He blinked, clearly taken aback by your question. In his lap, you saw his cock twitch, a small pulse along his right thigh.

Men are so fucking easy.

“What about when I was dancing with them? Sandwiched between their bodies?” You rolled your head on your shoulders, mimicking the way you danced and revealing the fragile plains of your throat, your hair falling around your face. “When Barty pulled my hair? When Evan blew smoke over my tits?”

Regulus swallowed hard, his eyes like melted jade.

“What about when I crawled into your lap?” You took the book from him and set it onto the table. Then, you placed your hands on his lean, muscular thighs and pushed yourself to your feet, straddling him the same way you did that night. His entire body was rigid beneath you, muscles coiled tight with tension. “Did you like when I whispered in your ear, Regulus? When I told you that I’d ruin you?”

“Y/n,” he rasped, breathing hard.

“Tell me the truth.” You were so close, your lips brushed the shell of his ear as you spoke. You committed to the contact, brushing your lips along his racing pulse, down his jugular vein. You fought to keep your thighs from clenching together, your own body responding to the feeling him slowly unraveling beneath you. “Do you hate me because you want me?”

“I don't,” he hissed through his teeth.

“If you say so,” you hummed, moving to slide off his lap.

He grabbed your waist, his grip bruising. “Don't you fucking dare."

“I thought you didn't want me?” You taunted, sitting back on his lap to look at him, a hand braced on his sternum.

When you shifted your weight, your pussy accidentally pressed against the hard outline of his cock. You had to force your hips to stay still, your pussy practically begging you to move when you felt him throb against your warm heat.

“That’s not what I meant,” he said. All the malice had drained from his voice, his eyes locked on yours.

Then what the fuck did he mean?

You rolled your hips, biting back the moan that crept up your throat as pleasure snaked through you. Regulus was less successful, a broken groan falling from his pretty mouth.

“It would be so much easier to just tell me the truth,” you purred, slowly rocking your hips over his twitching length, allowing a hint of breathlessness to bleed into your voice. “It would feel so good, Reg, to let it all go. To lose control.”

“Shit,” he crushed under his breath. “What the fuck are you doing to me?” He grated, sliding his hands down to feel your thighs flex with each movement, his fingertips dimpling your flesh.

“What did you mean by ‘I don’t’?” You asked, tilting his chin up with a finger.

His jaw went a little slack as he stared up at you, his eyes heavy-lidded and shining. “I don’t hate you,” he answered, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Then why do you say such awful things?” You stopped your movements, and he made a small noise in his throat, nearly a whimper, but didn’t answer. “Regulus,” you prodded, lifting yourself from him entirely.

“N-no, please, fuck y/n,” he stammered, lifting his hips to grind against you. Another moan threatened to spill from you, his body felt so fucking good against yours, but you managed to restrain yourself. “I did it to try and push you away, I—”

You lowered back onto him, your hips grinding in tandem, and his head fell back against the couch, releasing a throaty groan. You couldn’t hold back a small squeak of pleasure when the hard head of his cock grazed your clit just right, and a wave of pleasure crashed through you.

“Why did you want to push me away?” You started undoing the buttons of his dress shirt, revealing the pale expanse of his chest, lean muscles flexing as he thrusted up against you.

He shook his head, picking it up to look down at where your bodies met, a pool of your slick dampening his trousers. “Getting me all wet, lamb. You like toying with me?” he rasped, moving one of his hands to press a thumb against your clothed clit, his long fingers splayed across your pelvis. “Is that why I couldn’t scare you off?”

You nodded before you could stop yourself, a full moan finally breaking free with the added pressure. You were embarrassingly close to coming, to banter combined with the friction between your bodies was a lethal cocktail, a drug you weren’t sure you’d be able to quit.

You wrapped your hands around his throat, applying enough pressure that he gasped, the sound vibrating your hand. “Why are you trying to push me away?” You leaned closer to his face, his strained pants fanning across your lips. He was so beautiful like this, ravaged by lust and desperate.

“You know why,” he growled, grabbing your wrists. He rolled suddenly, flipping you beneath him and pinning your hands above your head. “What’s my name, y/n?” His free hand slid under your skirt, palming your soaked panties.

“Regulus,” you gasped, arching into his chest.

“Regulus what?” He started rubbing the heel of his palm over your clit, electric pleasure burning through you.

“Regulus Black.” You were on the brink of coming, teetering on that torturous edge.

“Tell me then, my clever little Ravenclaw. What does that say about me and mine?” He leaned down and dragged his teeth along your pulse point, pausing to suck a mark under your ear.

“Fuck, Reg, I’m going to come,” you whined, fighting against his hold as the feeling started to overwhelm you.

His hand stopped suddenly, ruining the orgasm you had just begun to crest. You cried out in frustration, tears springing to your eyes as the pleasure bled out of you, leaving you desperate and humming with tension.

“Answer me,” he demanded, grabbing your jaw with his slick covered hand.

“I’m not an idiot,” you snapped, eyes blazing into his. “I know what the fuck it means. And I don’t care.”

He fell still, eyes searching your face. “Then maybe you are an idiot,” he murmured, eyes softening now that the truth was finally out. “But so am I.”

He closed the final inch between you, connecting your lips in a searing, devastating kiss that you felt all the way to your toes. He released your hands and you tangled your fingers into his curls, finally feeling their softness for yourself as you pulled him closer. Your mouth parted for him, his tongue delving in to taste you.

“Reg, please,” you whined against his mouth, pressing your hips to his again.

“Tell me what you want, lamb.” He kissed down your neck, one of his hands sliding down to grip your thigh and draw it over his hip.

��Fuck me, I need you inside of me.” You clawed at his belt, flipping the clasp and tugging down his zipper.

“Merlin, yes.” He finished undoing his pants and freed his cock, pulling aside your panties to glide the head through your slick folds, lubricating himself. He notched the head at your entrance, hissing at the warmth already kissing him, and eased himself in.

Regulus wasn’t overly large, but the stretch was still divine, filling you until you went cross-eyed, an unholy cry ripping from your chest. He drew his hips back and slammed back into you, over and over again until your were in shambles, a moaning, shaking mess, on the precipice of coming for the second time.

“Come for me, love. I want to feel you break.” He cupped your face, kissing you as he finally pushed you over the edge, an orgasm ripping you apart at the seams. You screamed into his mouth, your cunt clenching around him as your body convulsed. “God, I love this fucking cunt. So perfect for me,” he growled, his hips losing their rhythm as your walls bared down on him, sucking him back in every time he pulled out.

“Reg,” you whimpered, sagging against the couch as the strength bled out of of you.

He pulled out suddenly, pumping his cock in his fist, your honey coating him. “Stay just like that, pretty girl. All fucked out and used. All mine—” a guttural groan broke the final word as he came in his hand, spraying ropes of cum over your rumpled skirt and Ravenclaw sweater, his head thrown back. He looked gorgeous milking himself for you, his muscles flexing with the effort, sweat beading along his skin.

He slowly relaxed, chest heaving, and looked down at you, ruined and covered in his cum. You stared back, completely starstruck by what just happened.

“I’m sorry,” he said, draping himself over you and pressing ksises to your forehead, your cheeks, your neck. “I’m sorry for everything I said. I didn’t mean any of it, I—”

“Me too,” you interrupted him, wrapping your arms around his neck. “I know how hard things are for you, at home, I mean, and I shouldn’t have—”

“No, no. I deserved it. I shouldn’t have brought up your family—”

“But I kept—”

“I never meant too—”

You both exhaled, laughing softly at your rushed confessions, the sudden, giddy nervousness that bloomed between you where there once was glacial wit and razor-sharp banter. He sat you both up, removing your stained sweater and straightening your skirt, then righted himself.

“What now?” You asked when he finished fussing, studying his flushed cheeks, his tousled hair.

He sighed, suddenly looking grim, and your heart gave a nervous thump. “We find a way to keep you safe, lamb,” he said, meeting your eyes. “But until then, we should act like nothing’s changed. Okay?”

Uncertainty coiled in your stomach, but you nodded. “Okay.”

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

Thanks for reading!

[starstruckmoony]

so high school.

masterlist

pairing - james potter x reader

summary - that one cute nerdy guy from your lectures gives you a follow and you end up actually falling for him.

trope/tags - modern!au, uni/college!au, instagram/social media!au, fluff, terrible humor

word count - 704

warnings - language, suggestive jokes

part 1 / part 2

prongsyboy

❤️ liked by yourusername, pandorasbox, marymacdonald and 167 others

prongsyboy me and remussy

tagged rjlupin

10 comments

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yourusername

❤️ liked by lily_evans, xeno_lovegood, starmanblack and 181 others

yourusername he said i remind him of the first line from robbers

12 comments

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prongsyboy added to their story

yourusername

❤️ liked by r.a.black, rjlupin, marymacdonald and 174 others

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13 comments

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prongsyboy

❤️ liked by ev.rosier, casmeadowes, euphemiapotter and 183 others

prongsyboy roadtripppppp

tagged yourusername

13 comments

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yourusername added to their story

prongsyboy

❤️ liked by vance_emm, r.a.black, mmmckinnon and 200 others

prongsyboy robbers intro?

tagged yourusername

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bartyyy added to their story

yourusername

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yourusername him.

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prongsyboy ME?

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rjlupin emphasis on extra

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prongsyboy added to their story

[prettybabybaby]

¡ 18+ only ! ¡ minors do not interact !

content: dubcon, stepbrother!regulus, fem!reader, exhibitionism, unprotected sex, alludes to a noncon gangbang, featuring barty and evan because i do what i want

¡ marauders masterlist !

regulus' hand moves from your throat to your chin, shaking your head until you blink, pushing out a clear droplet from the corner of your eye. your mouth is parted and saliva pools within it, threatening to spill before regulus turns your head towards him, placing an open-mouthed kiss on your lips. the kiss is wet and loud, louder than the slapping of skin on skin and the squelching of your cunt as it was filled with your stepbrothers cock.

your chest concaves as he angles his hips just right, sending a shock up your spine and pushing the air from your lungs and into his mouth. his hips stutter but he doesn't stop, holding you up as your knees begin to shake.

"look," he grumbles, using the grip on your chin to make you face the boys in front of you.

the blue eyes of evan rosier stare back at you, even more intimidating with the lust swimming in his irises. his pink lips darken where his teeth gnaw on the flesh.

barty palms himself shamelessly, gripping the bulge that became more and more prominent with every strangled noise that force itself out of you. his own eyes look as crazed as ever, each depraved thought involving you, you are sure of it.

the way they watch you is degrading, gazes drinking you in and hands aching to relieve themselves. you think you even saw barty's hand slide beneath evan's waistband at one point.

but you could hardly focus on the sight in front of you with the waves of pleasure that ripple through your body. regulus' warmth pulses inside you, the throb of his hot cock soothing the jerks of his aggressive ruts.

his face is drenched and burning almost as badly as yours. the grunts and groans hold an undertone that tell you he is enjoying the extra eyes.

"regulus," evan murmurs, posh hand sliding across his own thigh.

regulus' hips stutter at his friends voice, the hand on your throat tightening enough that you dug your nails into the flesh involuntarily. he huffs in your ear, sloppily kissing your cheek as a wordless apology. you turn your head, catching his swollen lips before he can move away.

this wasn't what you had expected. when regulus' voice sung your name, you had rushed over like a loyal puppy, eyes bright and heart thumping. nerves and hesitance lingered behind the excitement as you remembered that his dearest friends were paying him a visit this week. you hadn't liked the way they looked at you as they introduced themselves, suggestive comments leaving their lips that left you thinking they knew a little too much of your relationship with your stepbrother.

you had protested, shoving regulus off as much as you could manage before his lips enveloped yours, ridding you of the thoughts of ever letting him go until he bid you away. your begging whispers in his ear had gone ignored, mumbles telling you to "just ignore them," growing more firm as he thrusted into you.

"mmm," regulus hums, mouth vibrating yours.

"you gonna let us have a go anytime soon?"

[moonstruckme]

Congrats on 1k love!!! Im so happy for you, you deserve all the love 🩶

Could i request a ravenclaw!reader who's a little volatile (i suppose like dark acadameia) that the slytherins have kind of adopted (because shes volatile not violent and they think its cute). But shes been in a relationship with Remus on the down low and they realise at a halloween party?

I imagine Remus as an angel while reader is a devil and the slytherins were already concerned by the costume but then they notice you and Remus and just loose their marbles. Barty's having a meltdown, evans im shock and Sirius is cackling because Regulus is trying to stand tall but Remus is so much bigger than him its just impossible.

Anyway, tysm for your wonderful self and feel free to twist this however fits you, love!!

Hi lovely, thank you so much! I'm assuming you meant this to be for the Fade Into You part of the celebration since it's a specific reader, and also I don't know the Slytherin boys very well so I feel like my characterization could be wayyyyy off but I hope this is alright!

join the party

Remus Lupin x Ravenclaw!reader ♡ 930 words

You’re dancing with your friends when your drink is plucked suddenly from your hand. 

“Hey!” You spin around to find the thief, and then your tone changes completely. “Hey, Remus, you came!” You crash into him, reaching up to wrap your arms around his neck. Remus hugs you back the best he’s able, a drink in each hand. “And you wore your costume!” You grin as you pull away, resting a hand on either side of his face to admire how soft and sweet he looks in seraphim white. “Is that glitter on your cheeks?”

Said cheeks grow warm under your hands. “That’s Sirius’ touch.” 

“You look very pretty.” He grins, and you stand on tiptoe to whisper sweetly in his ear, “Now give me back my drink, pretty boy.” 

Remus’ smile doesn’t waver, but he becomes a tad more serious about the eyes. “How many have you had?”

“Oh, don’t be such a drag, Lupin,” Barty pipes up, coming up behind you to sling an arm around your shoulder. “She’s fine, and not that it’s any business of yours, but we won’t let anything happen to her.” 

“She just seems like maybe she’s had enough,” Remus replies, and his tone is far from unkind, but there’s an edge of admonishment to it that has Barty bristling noticeably. He turns back to you, voice softening. “What do you say, lovely, want to go sit down for a little while?”

You look at Barty, who raises an eyebrow at you. Behind him, Reggie stands with his arms crossed, looking bored with the whole thing.  

“I won’t be gone long,” you say in apology, and Barty scoffs disgustedly, but releases you. 

“Fine, go play with your costume buddy,” he says. “We’ll be here when you get sick of him.” 

You take Remus’ hand in one of yours, flipping Barty off with the other. 

“Are we really going to sit down?” you whisper hopefully, and Remus chuckles. 

“Yeah, we are. Sorry, sweetheart, but you’re not exactly walking in a straight line right now.” 

You grin, tugging at his hand playfully. “That’s just ‘cause I’m a rebel. The boys would never let me hang out with them if I walked the straight and narrow.” 

“That so?” Remus hums, pulling you down onto a couch beside him. “Have I mentioned how nice you look yet? You really do.” 

“I’m not supposed to look nice.” You roll your eyes, shuffling closer to him. “I’m a devil, Rem. I’m supposed to look hot and salacious.” 

Remus graces you with a smile, brushing a piece of hair from in front of your eye. “You do look hot, but you look nice too. I don’t think you can help that one, dovey.” 

“Yeah?” You bat your eyelashes, moving into his lap. Remus’ eyebrow quirks up slightly, cheeks glittering with the movement, but he doesn’t stop you. “Is it just that I radiate sweetness?” You kiss his jaw. “And patience?” Remus’ cheek is faintly pink where you press your lips. “Innocence, certainly,” you tease, breath hot on his ear, “but what else?” 

“Dove,” he whispers, “I think your friends are watching.” 

“Hm?” You look up, and sure enough, Regulus, Barty, and Evan are standing just a few feet away by the punch bowl, expressions ranging from bewilderment to abject horror. “Oh. Oops.” 

“I—I can’t,” Barty sputters. “I can’t be seeing this. Are you plastered? Get off him.” 

You don’t, but Remus does it for you, standing and setting you on your feet as Regulus stalks forward. He stops with his arms crossed in front of the two of you. 

“Is this who you’ve been ditching us for lately?” he asks you. 

You start to reply, but Barty talks over you. “No.” He shakes his head. “No, there’s no way. There’s no way.” 

Others have started migrating toward you to watch the show, among them Remus’ friends. Normally you wouldn't care, but Remus is beginning to squirm, so you try to calm things down for his benefit. 

“You guys are overreacting,” you say, as peaceably as you’re capable of. “As if it really matters what house my boyfriend is in.” 

“Boyfriend?” Barty despairs, and you should have known better than to think anything could quell his dramatics once they’ve begun. “God, as if the costumes weren’t bad enough, you have to throw lovey-dovey terms like boyfriend around.” 

A peal of laughter sounds from somewhere nearby, and you look around to find Sirius, eyes already wet with mirth as he watches his younger brother. “Reggie,” he manages between giggles, “are you trying to look taller than him?”

Reg raises an unimpressed brow, and anyone who didn’t know him well might not notice the flicker of embarrassment in his gaze. “Don’t be stupid,” he says, but his posture is better than you’ve ever seen it, his neck elongated in an attempt to look Remus in the eyes without having to tilt his head. 

“Reg.” Sirius swipes under his eyes. “You may be taller than me, but you’re never gonna get all the way up there.” 

“Alright,” you say decisively, taking Remus’ hand and proceeding to push past Regulus’ stiff form. You shoot Evan a half-apologetic look as you go by, still standing frozen like he’s been stupefied, and Barty follows your movement with eyes blown wide. “Just for that, we’re going back to you guys’ dorm, Black. And we’re going to fuck, loudly, all night.” You shoot your most winning smile in his direction, even as Remus’ face takes on a fiery hue beneath the white glitter. “I wouldn’t recommend coming home. Goodnight!”

[disasterchild20]

Meeting them for the first time (Boys)

James

Bump into each other after a Quidditch game

He accidentally walks into you while celebrating the win

"Sorry, Love, I didn't see you there."

"You need to get your glasses checked then."

Immediately loves your sense of humour

Get teased by Sirius for watching you walk away

Sirius

Gets paired with you for potions

Amazed by how good you are

"How come you never answer any of the questions Slughorn asks?"

"Hard to answer them when he clearly has favourites."

Asks for help with potions homework

You agreeing as long as it's in the kitchens

Remus

Helps get a book down off a shelf in the library for you

"Here, let me get that down for you."

"Thanks, I've been trying to get it down for at least ten minutes."

Asks you about the book

Two of you getting lost in the conversation

End up being kicked out by Madam Prince due to the library closing

Peter

You cover for him when he hides in a classroom cupboard after pulling a prank with the marauders

Surprised that you covered for him

"Why didn't you tell McGonagall where I was?"

"Eh, you guys always do funny pranks."

Thanks you at least three times

Brings you a bar of chocolate a couple of days later to say thank you again

Evan

Bumps into you on the train

Knocks you to the floor by accident

"Didn't know I could make someone fall for me so easily."

"When you're not paying attention, it's easy."

Helps you to your feet, smiling at your attitude

Apologises and buys you something from the trolly

Regulus

Sits next to you in Charms

Doesn't really pay attention to you until he sees how meticulous your notes are

"Your notes are meticulous."

"Thanks, it helps when it comes to revising and homework."

Asks if you'd be willing to revise with him in the library

You agree, telling him that you're there everyday between last class and dinner

Barty

Gets paired with you in Defence Against the Dark Arts

Cocky until you manage to get him to the floor easily

"How... How did you do that?"

"It's easy when you know the theory like the back of your hand."

Asks you if you could teach him

You agree as long as he brings sweets as 'payment'

Severus

Sits opposite you in library when everywhere else is full

Notices your text books are covered in notes

"You take notes in your text book?"

"I add stuff that it misses, you'd be surprised how much they miss."

Smiles slightly, realising that you do the same as him

Asks if you want to compare notes

Frank

Finds you in the greenhouse working on the plants

"Sorry, I didn't know anyone was in here."

"That's alright, I was just tending to the venomous tentacula

Immediately asks you about your favourite plant

Two of you discussing plants for the next hour

Lends you his book on rare plants

[justtwotired]

could you write something in which the reader discovers that regulus has become a death eater, and everything that comes with it ? except they're in a relationship or have feelings for each other !

i love your writing, thanks <3

Yesss, of course! I don’t know what pronounce you’d have wanted but I’m going with a F!reader for this one, you can always ask me to change it ofc🤍

His dorm was empty as they laid cuddled up in his bed. She felt him starting to relax more as he was half asleep. He didn’t notice her fiddling with his sleeve.

She clipped the button of, and then on again. She pulled on it and turned, she didn’t really know what she was doing, she was a bit bored and not tired.

Her eyes caught something under his sleeve and slowly she started to pull the sleeve down as her eyes got big.

Regulus’ half conscious mind suddenly picked up on what’s was happening and shot up, grabbing his sleeve and pulling it up as he got out of the bed.

She did as well. “What was that?” She demanded to know. “Amour, listen-” he tried as he turned to her to meet her hardened gaze. He never told her about his family’s plans, he didn’t know what she was making of the story, but he knew it was bad as she had never looked at him like this.

“Regulus what was on your arm?” She knew what it was, she just wanted to hear him say it, see if he regretted it. “Y/n I promise it is not what you think.” He said as he felt his voice crack and tears started to fill his eyes but he just blinked them away.

“It isn’t what I think? So that wasn’t the dark mark on your arm?” She huffed sarcastically. “Please just hear me out, love.” He took a few steps towards her and she did one step back.

“You have two minutes.” She said and he noticed she herself was really trying to keep the tears looking in her eyes where they where.

“I didn’t want it, alright, I always knew I would be forced to get the mark, I just believed it would be when I turned seventeen, I thought I could run for it- they just took me by surprise last summer.” He looked away from her and she just watched him.

She didn’t know what to answer, she also didn’t know if she should believe him. She blinked and then turned on her heel towards the door. He didn’t waste a second and grabbed her wrist to stop her.

She turned back to him with a small glare. “Let me go, Regulus.” She said trough gritted teeth. “Please say anything else.” It was almost as if he was begging, and for a second, her gaze softened as she had never seen him this vulnerable.

The second didn’t last long as she pulled her arm towards herself in a weak attempt to break free, but they both knew he was much stronger then her. She pulled again and then used her other hand to try and pry his fingers of her.

He took her wrist with the other hand and she suddenly noticed, his grip wasn’t rough at all, he was just holding her almost lovingly.

“Reg, please.” Her voice cracked and she sounded almost miserable, then she looked him in the eyes for the first time since finding out. His grip weakened… and then he let go of her.

“I am so, so sorry.” He whispered and the first tears rolled down his face, her face softened again, never in her life had she seen him cry, she had never see him this vulnerable.

It almost made her pull him in for a hug… almost.

She didn’t know what to do, she wanted time to think, wanted to leave and take a very long walk over the grounds.

“I’m sorry, Regulus.” She said and then left the dorm.

———

On Monday, three days later, she arrived at her history of magic lesson and sat down in her assigned seat, the lesson starting soon after, yet the chair next to her staid empty.

She turned around in her seat and looked at Barty behind her. “Where is Regulus?” She whispered. “In our dorm, he hasn’t left his bed since Friday.” He whispered back.

“What? Has he even been eating?” She asked and he shook his head. “We brought him food but he never ate it, we thought you would know what happened.” Evan decided to take part of the conversation too. “Yeah, he did mumble something about you in his sleep- it was actually the one only time he slept, I don’t think he has slept at all after that.” He said honestly.

Her eyes grew wide and then she sighed. “That absolute moron.” She said and stood up, leaving the class. Not that Binns would find out anyway.

On her way to the dungeons she stopped by the kitchens where she asked the house-elves for some food which they happily provided.

Muttering the Slytherin password, she stepped into the common room and then walked to the sixth years boy dormitory. She opened the door, to which he did not react at all.

“You’re a bloody asshole you know that.” She said and he looked up at her in surprise and shock. “Y/n.” He said with a small sigh and she walked over to his bed. “You can’t just stop eating and sleeping, do you know how bad that is for you? You could have ended up in the hospital!” She scolded as she handed him a sandwich she got from the kitchen.

He just stared at it and then at her. “Well go on, eat it, otherwise I might push it down your throat.” She told him and he hesitated but took a bite anyway. It didn’t take long before it was all eaten.

“I’m sorry about Friday, it’s just- I needed some time to think and hadn’t thought about how unfair it would be to you. I understand that you had no choice, but I guess I was just scared.” She sighed and something in his eyes broke.

“You where scared of me?” He asked, it was the first time he had spoken to her since she came barging into his room. “No! Not of you! Just what this would bring for the future, I was scared for you, scared for what would happen to you.” She admitted and he relaxed a bit.

“I’m sorry for not telling you. I will be alright, Y/n, everything is going to be fine, I promise.” He said and she looked up with a small smile.

“Can you do one thing for me?” She asked and he nodded hastily. “Yes, of course.” He quickly said. “Great, get some fucking sleep you blithering idiot.” She said and he breathed out a laugh.

He pulled her by the arm and made her lay next to him. She cuddled up to him and it didn’t take long for either of them to fall asleep.

[loverangels]

hey love -

can u write something for Evan rosier x fem!reader?

Maybe where reader is Sirius’s cousin/sis. And she’s a gryffindor?

Maybe an enemies to lovers?

thanks 💕

skinny dipping

Pairings- evan rosier x gryffindor!reader

summary- insufferable evan rosier is sure on annoying you with his humiliating pranks.

tropes- enemies to lovers, fluff

warnings- mentions of sex, language, some slut shaming, mentions of stripping this is also my first time so I hope you enjoy! :)

a/n- also if you guys have any ideas or requests please feel free to send them 🫡

its a bit like a drabble and I apologise for that 😞

ever since first year Evan Rosier has been set on annoying with his insufferable remarks, and poor attempt and flirting.

Not only that, but he also seems to enjoy watching you being humiliated by mucliber, who absolutely adores you.

'Y/n!' Mucliber calls out skipping down the halls, jumping onto the gryffindor table, receiving glares and disgusted looks from your fellow mates and class fellows, laying on the table infront of you resting his face on his hand, smirking.

'oh Black will you do me the favour of going out with me to hogsmeade?' He asks waiting answer.

a dreadful beat of silence passes.

you roll your eyes used to his antics, 'bog off mucliber' you say as you stand up hollering your bag over your shoulder, walking out the hall brushing off the burning gazes. You end up catching evans eyes as you walk out his jaw clenched before catching your gaze he instantly smirks. A bit too much.

you sigh.

another day, another one of muclibers attempt at asking you out. It's been two years however he somehow doesn't get the hint. You curse angrily under your breath, as you walk outside towards the great lake.

You set your bag down as you sit at your spot, resting against the tree.

You hear someone behind you, and you turn around to see your older brother.

'you do know I can beat him up for you?' Sirius jokes as you notices your fingers tugging at the grass.

he adds noticing your face 'not that you can't take care of him on your own, it's just my duty you know?'

'i know it's just he can't seem to to get the fucking hint!.' you scoff

'he's a twat dont worry though I'm sure me, prongs and moony can come up with a way to shutting him up. We can always black mail him into leaving you alone or we'll tell everyone his mum stills bathes him.' he states smirking.

You shoot up almost toppling over as you choke on your saliva holding onto the tree for support.

You gasp for breath as sirius calmy pats your back, well I better get back to the boys, james probably doing some stupid shit right now, better join him before he gets detention without me' he brings before kissing your forehead before sprinting towards the castle.

You look around the grounds to see it empty, it's a free period, although it's slightly unusual there's no one outside.

you hesitate before pulling off your uniform off piling them on your bag, leaving you in your black lace bra and matching underwear. you head for the lake slowly stepping into the water chilly at first touch you slowly drunk the rest of your body into the water. you quicky submerge your whole body in and swim for a while, ridding any thoughts you had, instantly soothed at the warming water and the sun peeking out.

you grab your wand from the edge fo the lake going to retrieve your clothes and get out the lake before you notice your clothes missing. you gaze around carefully before you notice your clothes are actually missing.

fuck.

worryingly, you look around everywhere still floating in the water.

tears prick your eyes frustrated as you huff bawling your fists, before you hear a stupid snicker.

one you'd notice anywhere.

evan fucking rosier.

you look up as you consciously wrap your arms around the upper part of your body that is visible.

you meet his stupid crystal blue ocean like eyes-

'missing something?' he smirks mockingly as he dangles your uniform from his long slender fingers.

'oh don't be so immature rosier and pass me my fucking clothes.' you hiss wiping away your loose black curls from your cheek.

'say please' he grins.

you roll your eyes, growing more frustrated.

'0h fuck you rosier' you spit

'wouldnt you like that'

'what?'

'you heard me. Bet you spread your fucking legs if I asked hm?'

'whats your fucking problem?!' you exclaim confused.

'will you? Will you spread your fucking legs for me if I asked? What about now? What if I asked for your pink lips to wrap around my dick and take it like a good girl?' he spits

your chest grows heavy as you feel sick

'stop it!'

immediately his stomach drops as guilt crawls it's way into his throat.

'fuck you know I didn't mean that.'

you turn around as you try to even your breathing closing your eyes.2

before you can turn your back you head a splash of water and evan missing you look around waiting for him to submerge from the water only to be meeted with silence.

'rosier?' you call out as eery silence creeps into your ears.

'ok haha so funny you can come out you call out as you open your arms calling into the water.

you feel a lump in your throat as nothing happens.

'evan? evan come on, oh my god' your voice wavers as your hands shake.

you quickly reach to the edge of the lack about to get out and change and run to the castle for help before you feel something tug your ankle, before fully pulling you into the water.

your scream as your ears ring, but your under water.

there's no one to hear you.

all of a sudden the thing stops pulling you and you raise to the top of the water gasping heavily as tear roll down your face.

as you submerge youre met with evan grinning, his face dripping as well before dropping softly as he notices your tears and scared gaze.

your blood boils as you glare at him, sniffling, swimming past him, not getting anyway as he pulls you into his chest, one hand on your waist.

'rosier you dick you fucking-'

'you know I didn't mean that.'

'what?'

he sighs running a hand over his face as he swallows

'im sorry. I didn't mean that i wasn't thinking probably and I let my jealousy get the best of me I don't think of you like th-'

'jealousy?' you ask your eyes widen as your chest contracts.

'yes fuck!' he swallows hardly ' I got jealous. fucking Mucliber getting all in your face..'

you zone out as you just stare at him ranting watching him looking anywhere but at you as he rubs the back of his neck, you at his perfectly fine torso and abs to his strong muscular arms and pretty pink lips and long lashes and his ocean eyes-

'take a picture it'll last longer' he teases

you snap out of your trance blushing and growing flustered looking away.

hes fingers leave the back of his neck to your chin as he tilts your face gently to meet your gaze.

'can I kiss you?', he whispers carefully, not wanting to scare you off holding you as if he's scared of you slipping through his fingers.

you nod your head quickly before pressing your lips over his.

you sigh contently into the kiss as your hands grab his shoulders his hands cupping your face.

after a few minutes you break away, which felt like hours, the both of you gasp as you rest your head against his

'fuck I've been waiting to do that for five years' he states adorably before pressing his lips against yours again.

[crescenthistory]

Toe The Line

Pairing: Barty Crouch Junior x Reader

Summary: Barty's relentless flirting with you comes to a head one evening in the Slytherin common room when you confront him.

Words: 4.2k

Warnings: not proofread, let's be clear this is maraudersfandom!barty with part-dyed-acid-green-hair, shy!reader kinda, flirting, insinuations, make-out session, teasing, all that stuff

Note: i do not feel like this does barty my love my life justice, but i have to start pumping out barty fics to get comfortable with him. so! here you go mwah

***

It was one of those icy nights in the Slytherin common room, where the air was sharp but the fire crackled invitingly, casting playful shadows over the lush green velvet couches. You were sprawled on one end of the sofa, leg propped onto Regulus' shoulder as he sat on the floor, flipping through another pretentious novel of his. Barty sat on the other side of the two-seater, watching you as you flipped through your Transfiguration notes like they held the secrets of the universe. The room buzzed with a quiet chatter. You were half-listening to Evan enthusiastically recounting the latest Quidditch practice to Dorcas, who looked thoroughly unimpressed but still indulged him.

Barty, carelessly draped across the cushions, peered over your shoulder and into your notes, as if to check if they were more worthy of your attention. To no one's surprise, he didn't think so. He always managed to hover around you, like a moth drawn to your flame, whether it was leaning over your shoulder to whisper something devilish or positioning himself within your line of sight to make faces at you. Tonight, all it seemed he wanted was your undivided attention – which you were intent on not giving him.

“You’re ignoring me, Treasure,” Barty drawled, the familiar lilt of amusement in his voice. You didn’t need to turn around to envision the lazy, reckless grin that could disarm even the most stubborn of hearts.

“I’m studying,” you replied, still engrossed in your notes. “You should really give it a go sometime.”

He scoffed, swinging one leg over the edge of the couch. “Come off it. You know I don’t need to study.”

Regulus muttered from below you, flipping a page in his book, “You just like to show off.”

Barty tilted his head back, a smug smile stretching across his lips. “It’s not showing off when you just naturally excel at everything.”

Evan erupted into a loud laugh from across the room, cutting his own rant off. “Merlin, if there is anything you've studied, Junior, it's how to be insufferable!”

“You love me,” Barty shot back smoothly, a playful glint in his eye.

No one could in their right mind argue against that.

Dorcas rolled her eyes, exchanging a look with you that was practically screaming he’s ridiculous. You stifled a grin, still pretending to focus on your notes while Barty’s gaze lingered like a heatwave over you.

"Don't you, Treasure?" he teased, his voice dropping to that familiar, sultry tone that always sent a shiver down your spine as you immediately readied another quip to calm it down.

“It is true what they say: you’re delusional,” you said, not even glancing at him.

“Maybe,” he mused, kicking off the arm of the couch to slide closer to your side of the already small couch. You felt the heat radiating from him before you even saw him, his arm brushing against yours as he leaned over, pretending to inspect your notes like he actually cared about Transfiguration.

"But you haven’t denied it," he murmured, his voice soft enough that only you caught it.

Finally, you looked up, meeting his eyes, which sparkled with chaotic energy but held something deeper – a secret simmering just beneath the surface. You opened your mouth to retort, but Regulus tapped your knee still draped over him with his quill.

“If you two are going to flirt,” Regulus interjected, barely glancing up from his book, “take it outside my personal space, would you?”

A soft snort came from Evan, and Dorcas just grinned, clearly more entertained by this than Evan's ramblings.

“Who said we were flirting?” Barty countered, casually slinging an arm around your shoulders as if to make a point. “Treasure here is actually absolutely laser-focused on her studies. She will become a professor if we don't watch out for her.”

You rolled your eyes, giving Barty's body a shove with your own. It was not lost on Regulus, though, that you leaned into his side after the shove, seemingly on instinct.

This was classic Barty – always encroaching on personal space, always testing the boundaries between friendship and something a bit more electric. It never meant anything, though

Evan caught your eye, a mischievous smirk creeping onto his face. “If that’s your definition of studying, I must be doing it all wrong. Dorcas, wanna study with me in my dorm later?”

This led to Evan earning his own shove, though much harsher than the one you had given Barty, and for both Regulus and Dorcas to say ew in unison through their laughter.

“Maybe you should head to your dorm; y'know I like you much better when you focus on your own sodding business, Rosier." Barty barked out a laugh at your comment, unnecessarily loudly, but funny to you all the same.

“Touchy, touchy,” Evan replied, but his teasing was always good-natured in this odd little family of friends.

Barty kept his arm around you as the banter continued, and despite your best efforts to maintain an air of indifference, you couldn’t ignore the way your skin tingled under his touch. If you didn't know better, you could have sworn you heard his breath hitch when your hand settled on his knee, rubbing circles with your fingertips.

As the evening wore on, the common room began to thin out. Regulus was the first to excuse himself, ever the model of discipline when it came to sleep. Your leg was dropped unceremoniously to the ground, earning him an oi! from Barty and a kick from you that he just barely dodged. Evan followed suit, muttering something about needing to “wake up at a decent hour for once.” Dorcas lingered for a moment, chatting about Herbology homework before she too yawned and slipped off to bed, leaving you and Barty alone by the fire.

It was nothing new for the two of you to be the last ones awake, always having more to talk about together. After midnight, the common room transformed – quieter, more intimate, like it was cocooned away from the rest of the world. You both preferred it that way.

"Finally," Barty sighed, slumping back against the couch, and consequently you, stretching out his legs over the edge of the seat. “I thought Ev would never stop talking.”

You chuckled softly, finally putting your parchment aside. “You could’ve told him to shut it. I know you're not above that."

Barty smirked, glancing at you from the corner of his eye. “Where’s the fun in that?”

"I remember quite a few times where you have found it hilarious to tell someone to shut the hell up."

"Yeah, well, maybe I'm taking a more peaceful path. Your stupid homework-doing righteous self is rubbing off on me." Barty flashed you a smile that you instinctively reciprocated.

"Nah, don't think peaceful and Barty can exist in the same sentence."

He knew it to be true, he thrived on chaos – letting moments unravel just to see what would happen next. It was a double-edged sword; you adored that spark in him, but it often left you exasperated.

Once the others drifted off, the atmosphere shifted palpably. It was always like this between the two of you – lighter, sure, but also heavier in a way that pressed against your chest. The playful banter flowed effortlessly, yet beneath it simmered a tension that had been thickening over the last few months.

"I mean it though," Barty continued. "You’re way too serious these days." His gaze fixed on you with that familiar gleam in his eye, with perhaps a smidge of worry beneath it. No one knew you like Barty, and he could switch between jokingly obnoxious and pointedly observant in seconds.

You arched an eyebrow, fighting the urge to smile. “Me? Serious? You must be mistaking me for someone who doesn’t have a sense of fun.”

“Always with your nose buried in a book, always playing it safe.” He leaned in closer, that lazy smirk tugging at his lips. “You didn’t used to be such a stick in the mud.”

"I also didn't used to be in my last year. Things count now, B."

"Nothing ever really counts though, do they?" He started smiling halfway through his sentence, just knowing you were about to roll your eyes at him in a fashion only Regulus can outdo.

“I’m just not reckless like you,” you shot back, narrowing your eyes. “There’s a fine line between adventurous and asking for a detention’s worth of trouble.”

Barty’s grin only stretched wider. “You love it when I’m reckless. Admit it.”

There it was again, that playful dare in his tone, like every word was a challenge wrapped in an invitation. You shook your head, trying to keep your voice steady. “One of these days, you are going to drag me into some real trouble, and I won't love you very much then.”

He tilted his head, eyes glinting with mischief. “Maybe. But you’ll still be right there beside me, won’t you, Treasure?”

Barty was always pushing boundaries to see how far he could go before you drew the line. But there was something intense and raw in the way he was looking at you now, making your heart race faster than it should.

“I'll always be there with you, don't be stupid," you huffed, wanting to change the subject. You broke eye contact, staring off into the embers left in the fireplace.

"I know." He just smiled, unaffected by your attitude.

"You’re impossible,” you countered.

That Barty wasn’t about to let slide. "If I'm so unbearable, why don't you go up to your dorm, hm?" He raised his eyebrow in a challenge.

“Only because I’m too lazy to walk back to the dorms.” You picked at your nail beds absentmindedly.

“Liar,” he said softly, putting his hand on top of yours to stop the torment of your skin.

You were about to shoot him a glare, but the retort you had in mind faltered when you met his gaze. The playful glimmer had vanished, replaced by something sharper, more intimate. He shifted in his seat to be angled more towards you, leaning in closer, the heat radiating from him making your mind race.

“It's okay to want to spend your nights with me, Treasure. There's nothing I'd like more,” he murmured, the challenge evident in his low tone.

Your heart stuttered. The closeness made it nearly impossible to think straight. You wanted to volley back with a witty comeback, something that would break the tension, but the words stuck in your throat.

Barty’s smirk softened into something more vulnerable, like he was waiting for you to take the plunge. It was an unspoken invitation, daring you to either push him away or draw him in.

You swallowed hard, the weight of the moment pressing heavily between you. “Stop flirting with me, Barty,” you whispered, barely audible. “I might start believing it.”

For once, he looked confused. It was hard not to revel in it, though the moment had you reeling.

"You think I’m not serious?" he asked, the playful lilt gone, replaced by sincerity. It wasn't necessarily rare for Barty to drop the bravado around you, but it still made your chest clutch when he did. It made everything feel a bit too real.

Your breath caught as you held his gaze, his eyes scanning yours, searching for something.

"Barty..." you began, but the words floundered. What were you really trying to say? That this was risky? That you didn’t want to lose what you had? Or was it possible you were craving this – craving him – in a way that exceeded your playful banter, the lighthearted flirting you knew he shared with most friends of his.

"Yes, love?"

"What happened to Treasure?" you tease, trying to regain some control of the situation.

Barty’s lips curled into the faintest smile, the kind that didn’t quite reach his eyes. "You never have minded when I called you Treasure, have you?" he said, his voice dropping lower, softer. “Not when it’s just us. Not even when everyone else is around.”

"It's all just fun. Sweet." You deflect and deflect, both verbally and internally.

He leaned in closer, eyes locked on yours, daring you to say something, anything. His hand travelled from his side to caress your neck. "Is this fun, Treasure? Go on. Tell me to stop."

You could feel his breath against your skin, warm and tantalisingly close. Your mind raced, grasping for the right words to break the tension, but all you could think about was how effortless it would be to close the distance between you.

He smiled at you, and it felt warm.

“You’re different with me,” he mused, his tone thoughtful, like he was just realising the truth of it. "You let me in, even when you pretend you don’t."

You wanted to argue, to throw up your usual walls, but he wasn’t wrong. You were different with him. You allowed him to cross lines that you wouldn’t let anyone else dare to tread. Maybe that’s why you felt so exposed now, his gaze piercing through your defences – like he already knew the answer to a question you hadn’t even formed yet.

You tore your gaze away, focusing on the flames flickering in the hearth. “This is stupid,” you muttered, more to yourself than him.

Barty chuckled softly, the sound warm and low, but there was an undercurrent of something deeper that made your heart skip. "Is it, though?" he asked, fingers now ghosting along your wrist, making it impossible to think about anything other than the electricity igniting with each point of contact.

"Yes, it is, Barty," you said again, a little firmer this time, turning back to meet his gaze. “You’re just playing with me. And we shouldn't.” You didn't elaborate, you didn't want to.

He tilted his head, studying you like he always did when you tried to deflect. "I play with everyone,” he said, not missing a beat. “But I’m not playing with you right now. Or ever, really, not with this.”

Your lips parted to respond, but nothing came out. You had expected him to laugh it off, to tease you the way he always did when things got too serious. There was no teasing in his expression now, no playful smirk – just that steady, unblinking gaze that pinned you in place. It was understanding, he looked as if he knew every part of you already.

"You don’t believe me," he stated, as if reading off a fact.

You swallowed, suddenly aware of how close his face was to yours, how his hand had somehow found its way to your knee, his thumb rubbing small, absentminded circles against the fabric of your trousers.

"I don’t know what to believe," you admitted, the words coming out quieter than you intended.

Barty’s gaze softened, his hovering hand finally making contact with your face, cupping your jaw.

“You think I flirt with you just for fun?” he asked, his voice barely more than a murmur now.

Your throat was tight, your chest constricting as you tried to find the right words. This wasn’t how things were supposed to go with Barty. He was supposed to be the reckless, chaotic one. He wasn’t supposed to be like this – serious and sincere.

“I think you flirt with everyone,” you finally said, though it sounded weak even to your own ears.

Barty didn’t flinch. He didn’t pull away, didn’t make some sarcastic quip like you expected him to. Instead, he leaned in even closer, so close now that his nose brushed against yours. His breath was warm against your lips, and your heart pounded so loudly in your chest that you were sure he could hear it.

"Not like this," he whispered, his voice low and rough. "Not with you."

The fire crackled softly behind you, the only sound in the otherwise silent common room, but all you could hear was the pounding of your own heartbeat and the steady rhythm of Barty’s breathing.

You wanted to say something, to deflect, to joke, to put up some sort of defence. But when you opened your mouth, the only thing that came out was his name. "Barty..."

His hand on your knee squeezed slightly, grounding you in the moment, tethering you to him. You could feel the weight of everything unsaid between you – the years of friendship, the flirting, the tension that had been building and building until it felt like it might burst.

“I’m serious,” he said, his voice soft but firm. "I mean it. Every time. Tell me you don’t feel it too."

You swallowed, your heart racing, your mind spinning. You could feel the warmth of his body so close to yours, the heat of his hand still resting on your leg, the weight of his gaze pressing down on you. Everything inside you was screaming at you to do something, to make a choice.

"I..." you started, but the words caught in your throat. You wanted to deny it, to laugh it off, to tell him that this was just another one of his games, but the truth was, you couldn’t. Because you did feel it—the pull, the tension, the way your heart stuttered every time he looked at you like that.

"I can't tell you that, Barty."

His eyes flicked down to your lips, and for a second, you thought he might kiss you right then and there. He didn’t move. He just stayed there, inches away, waiting. For you.

"Then what–" he began to ask, but with your heart hammering in your chest, every nerve in your body on edge, eyes looking directly up into his.

"Shut up, Junior."

You leaned in, closing the gap between you, your lips pressing against his in a way that felt deliciously right.

For a split second, you hesitated again, wondering if you’d made a mistake, if Barty would pull back and laugh it off like it was nothing. Any such thought was immediately quieted when his head caught up with your actions and his hand swerved from your cheek to your hair, tangling in it as he pulled you further against him into a deeper kiss.

It was everything you’d expected from him – reckless, intense, like he had been waiting for this just as long as you had. His hand slid up from your knee to your waist, pulling you even closer as his lips moved against yours, firm and insistent.

You gasped against his mouth, and he took the opportunity to slide his tongue into your mouth, holding yours tentatively. You opened your mouth further, taking his lips between yours, dragging forth a breathy moan from him. Your intensity matched the months – maybe years – of tension that had built between you. His fingers curled at the nape of your neck in a way that sent sparks down your spine.

It was messy, frantic, but it was undeniably real. The playful flirtations, the casual touches, the late nights spent with your group of friends, all the little moments that had led to this – it all came flooding back as your lips moved together in a way that felt both unfamiliar and natural at the same time.

Barty kissed you like he had been waiting for it, like he was making up for lost time. Maybe he was. Maybe you both were.

Your fingers found purchase on the front of his shirt and you used the momentum to throw your leg over his lap, sitting down on top of him. His hand not currently occupying your hair immediately came down to your hip, stabilising you with an iron grip. He pulled you closer with it, chest flush against chest. The kiss was growing more desperate, more demanding, and you could feel the heat of his body against yours, the smell of his cologne mixing with the faint scent of the fire still barely alive behind you.

When you finally pulled apart, it was only because you both needed air. Your forehead rested against his, noses still brushing against each other, Barty even nuzzling his into yours. Your breaths coming in shallow, uneven pants. Barty’s fingers remained tangled in your hair, his other hand still gripping your waist like he was afraid you might disappear if he let go.

Neither of you spoke. The only sound in the room was the soft crackling of the fire and the heavy rhythm of your breathing. Barty kept his eyes closed, eyebrows scrunched, and you studied his face with fondness sitting heavily in your heart. You could feel the rapid rise and fall of his chest, attempting to match his with your own. Momentarily, your mind flashed back to when he coached you through your first panic attack when you were younger, fingers tightening on his chest as you were flooded with overwhelming emotion for him. What you knew to be overwhelming love.

His eyes fluttered open, dark, intense, and focused entirely on you. “You’ve no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that,” he whispered, his voice rough and still a little breathless.

"I might," you countered, your smile brushing his.

Barty let out a soft laugh, but there was nothing teasing about it. He sounded almost relieved, like a weight had been lifted off his chest. "I swear I am not playing with you, Treasure," he murmured, as if it was of the utmost importance to him that you understood that

“I didn’t know,” you said quietly, your fingers loosening their grip on his shirt, though you didn’t let go completely. “I didn’t think–”

“You didn’t think I could be serious?” he finished for you, his lips quirking up in that familiar half-smile, though there was still a rawness to his expression that made your chest tighten.

You shook your head, struggling to find the right words. “I didn’t think you wanted to be serious with me.”

Barty’s smile softened even more if possible, and for a moment, he just looked at you, his thumb brushing lightly against your cheek. “I always want to be serious with you,” he said bashfully, his voice barely more than a whisper. "But you’re always trying to push me away."

You blinked, caught off guard by the vulnerability in his words. He wasn’t wrong. You had pushed him away. Every time he flirted, every time he got too close, you deflected, afraid of what it would mean if you let him in like that. Traumabonding was one thing, it was discussing the past and how it still affected you – but to open up about your emotions now? It had seemed impossible. But, sitting here with him – on top of him, really – his forehead resting against yours, his lips still tingling from the kiss you had just shared, you couldn’t pretend anymore.

“You're right," you admitted softly, having to resist rolling your eyes at his sudden grin at those words. "I didn’t want to ruin things. We’re friends. If this… if we–”

“It's more than that,” Barty said, cutting you off. "It's about want. You have to let me want you, because trust me, Treasure, I will."

You bit your lip, the weight of his words sinking in. Now that the invisible line you drew in your head had been crossed, now that you’d felt his lips on yours, there was no going back.

"How do I do that?" Your voice wavered, but your gaze didn't. Only Barty would you trust with that kind of question.

He gave you a smile you were afraid to call lovesick. His hands both slid to cup your cheeks, thumbs tracing the curve of your jaw in a way that made your heart race all over again. "You tell me what you want. What do you want, Treasure?" he asked, his voice low and rough, his eyes searching yours.

You hesitated, your breath catching in your throat as you looked at him. This was the moment, the moment where you could pull back, laugh it off, pretend it hadn’t happened. Or you could take the leap, cross the line completely, and see where it led you.

“I want…” You swallowed, your voice faltering for a moment before you met his gaze head-on. “I want you.”

“Then I am all yours, my love.”

Before you could respond, he kissed you again, softer this time, slower. There was no urgency, no desperation. Just the two of you, finally giving in to something that had been simmering between you for so long.

As his lips moved against yours, and you melted into him, all the tension from before fading away. It was simple and real in a way that made you wonder why you would ever shy away from this. Kissing Barty felt like clarity.

The smile that spread across your face when you pulled apart would go on to fuel Barty for days on end.

“See?” he joked quietly, his voice light but full of meaning. "That wasn’t so hard, was it?"

You pretended to scoff, though your smile didn't waver. “You really are impossible.”

Barty grinned, one hand slipping from your face to rest casually on your thigh. “Yeah, but you love it.”

You didn’t respond right away, but you didn’t need to. The look in your eyes said everything.

You let him want you.

[juleswritesstuff]

Blind

james potter x reader

I saw that post right in the middle and I just had to.

Warnings: none (it's a bit suggestive, but nothing major)

You could live like this, you think.

It would truly be the best life ever in your humble opinion.

Sitting on his lap, arms wrapped around his neck, holding on to him like a lifeline as your bodies fit perfectly like two pieces of a puzzle. His hands are all over your body, fingers exploring wherever they can reach before sneaking swiftly under your shirt to trace along the length of your spine, pads dancing on your soft skin and making shives erupt all over you.

And his lips. Oh God, his lips. 

James has the face of an angel, and the mouth of a demon. And you love it. You revel in the feeling of his lips claiming every part of you, every inch of flesh. They are soft and reverent and teasing and filthy, and in this moment they are devouring yours with a hunger that matches the fire blooming inside of you.

“You have no right to look this good” you whisper on his lips, biting his bottom one before swiping your tongue right over it.

You couldn’t help yourself when you saw him. All disheveled after quidditch practice with his hair still a little damp, the first three buttons of his shirt free, tie loose and crooked and a half smirk on that perfect face of his; knocking on your door completely clueless of the effect he had on you.

He looked like sex on legs. A literal sin in human form, and you were ready to fall from grace when it came to him.

“Didn't know post-quidditch me was so sexy to you” his voice has a little strain to it, breathless and teasing as his hands roamed all over your body.

You let out a breathless chuckle, hyper aware of every centimeter of him pressed against you.

“You have no idea” your hands get to work on his shirt, unbuttoning it as fast as you can, until his perfectly chiseled torso graces your eyes in its full glory.

Your mouth waters at the sight.

You slide the fabric off of his shoulders, brushing the smooth skin and feeling all those firm muscles that he hides behind his beloved sweatshirts, biting your lip as the flames inside your body grow hotter by the second. 

Your mouth latches to his once again, never having enough of his taste, of him.

He starts to lay down and you follow him, never breaking the embrace of your lips, intoxicated by the way his tongue caresses yours in the filthiest of dances. His back hits the mattress and you are fully all over him, chest to chest.

The kiss becomes messy, a clash of teeth and lips and tongues. You are sure the thing running through your veins is not blood anymore, but liquid fire, consuming every cell of your body and setting you ablaze with desire.

“Woah, you're fucking blurry” 

“Hold on, love. I have to-”

One of his arms leaves your waist and reaches up, until his fingers are wrapped around the slim, golden frame of his glasses, taking them off in a way that should be considered illegal in at least twenty countries. All smooth and seductive with that little grin of his.

God, he was so beautiful like this. All worked up and breathless, laying underneath you like the tastiest meal you ever had the pleasure to taste and-

For a split second the room falls silent, not a single sound can be heard inside those four walls.

You blink a few times, enough to let his words sink in.

And when they do you can't help but burst out laughing.

A real, genuine laugh coming straight from your belly and echoing through the room like you had just heard the joke of the century.

James’ eyes are wide in disbelief, flabbergasted by your reaction. But his mouth is stretched in an incredulous grin, sprinkled with a glint of mirth as he himself can’t stop the chuckle bubbling in his throat.

“Are you making fun of my blindness ? How cruel, Y/N” there is not an ounce of offense in his tone, just light-hearted and hilariously exaggerated teasing.

“Me ?” the fake and over the top innocence in your voice makes him smile even harder, the little dimple on his left cheek that you adored so much peeking through. You dip forward, leaving a kiss on those dreamy lips of his before whispering right against them “I wouldn't even dream of it” 

“Oh, you wouldn't ?” he cocks a perfectly arched brow in a challenging and yet adorable manner, eyes sparkling with mischief as his fingers start poking at your ribs, making you squirm and giggle like a middle schooler.

“No ! No, no, no ! Jame-”

He is laughing too, now. Glasses back in their place and eyes glistening with joy and pure adoration as he looks at you struggling not to lose a lung from the almost hysterical shriek coming from your lips at the ticklish attack he had you under.

You are so focused on not collapsing from the laughter and the skillful way his fingers move in every place he knew was the most ticklish for you, that you don't even register the way his hands suddenly stop.

They land on your hips, holding them in a delicate but firm grip, and, before you know it, you are being flipped over. Your back makes contact with the mattress of your bed as the delicious weight of your boyfriend’s sculpted body settles over you. 

You let out a yelp of surprise at the sudden change of position, a sound that threatens to turn into a full moan considered your current situation.

James is now on top of you, and the breath almost gets knocked out of your lungs as you admire him in his full glory.

His hair is wild and messy, but they frame his face in a way both so beautiful and so sexy that it makes your heart stop beating and your body run hotter. His eyes are still crinkled up in the ghost of a smile, but the haziness in them, that glint of adoration and reverence as he looks at you through his eyelashes, renders you speechless. His golden specks are hung a bit low on the bridge of his nose, giving him an adorable but mouth watering beautiful look. His lips are curled up in a half smile, playful and gorgeous and so, so incredibly sensual that you are not even sure if he knows the power that mouth has on you.

“Cat got your tongue, love ?” he brushes his nose with yours as he murmurs the question right on your lips, leaving a kiss on your cheek right after.

You wish you could just function like a normal person and tell him that, no, your tongue is definitely still in its place and it works perfectly fine, thank you. But your boyfriend is shirtless on top of you, with your legs still wrapped around his hips and that deadly handsome grin plastered on his face. Suddenly, the only thing you can think about are some other couple of ways in which your mouth could definitely be useful. 

“I-” you gulp loudly as you try not to drool at the sight of his muscles flexing right before your eyes “-what ?”

He lets out a chuckle, his head hung low as his shoulders shake with laughter. His wild locks tickle your chin and you can feel the ghost of his smile pressed lightly on your collarbone

You can’t help but follow him as the delightful sound of his laugh echoes through the room, spreading a warmth in your heart that you had never felt before meeting James.

When he lifts his head back up and his eyes find yours again, all sparkling with joy and fondness, you really think your heart is seconds away from bursting in your chest.

“Am I really that distracting ?” there is still a hint of that cocky smirk on his face, but it fades into something sweeter as he catches the light blush blossoming on your cheeks.

“You know perfectly well that I stop functioning properly when you are on top of me, Potter” your grumbling tone doesn’t faze him one bit, he just dips his head lower and captures your lips in a searing kiss.

“Really ? I hadn’t noticed” the unimpressed deadpan look you give him makes him chuckle again and you can feel the vibration right on your chest with how close he is.

“Sorry, sorry” his laughter dissipates, replaced by a more relaxed smile.

“If it’s of any consolation-” the hand not busy holding his upper body up and preventing his full weight to be laid on you, reaches the supple flesh of your thigh, letting his fingers dance on the exposed skin as they please “-my brain stops working, too” 

His mouth starts a journey that begins on your lips and slowly and tortourously ends on your neck, which seems to be his favorite place to worship to make your brain short-circuit.

“Mmh, does it actually ?” you don’t know how the hell you manage to let a single word out, especially in that teasing tone, as you are sure nothing except pure filthy sounds threaten to come out of your throat.

He grins against your skin before lifting his head up once again.

“Oh, trust me. It does” he whispers sensually against your lips “In every position you have me in”

Yes, you could definitly live like this.

I am not sure if I am a 100 % satisfied with this, but I tried my best.

I hope you enjoyed and thank you for reading 💗

[libraryledge]

Safe Haven (A Regulus Black Story)

A/N: This is my first time writing for Regulus Black. Thanks to a kind request in my inbox, I took on the challenge! This story is about the reader encountering a mysterious and distressed Regulus in the library and how the pair connects over books.

The library has always been my safe haven. A place of quiet and tranquility to collect my thoughts, to study, and most importantly to read. Books have always been my favorite companions. They offer me a chance to explore, learn, challenge my opinions, and above all travel to new places and meet new people.

Most of my classmates at Hogwarts preferred to spend time at the Quidditch pitch or by the lake. While I loved these places as well, I felt most at home with my nose in a book. It's not as if I was an extremely reserved person. In fact, once you got me going, it was hard to get me to stop talking, especially if the topic was a good book. However, most students preferred not to think about reading outside of class time.

Therefore, one could imagine my surprise when a scrawny boy with curly hair and deep green eyes was seated at my usual spot at the library table. He was intensely scrutinizing a book as if attempting to decipher an ancient riddle that was written amongst its pages. curiosity got the better of me so I walked over towards him. He was so engrossed in the text that he did not hear me approach the table.

“ What are you reading?” I asked, making him jump.

He gave me an annoyed look, and I could tell he was trying to cover up the fact that I scared him.

“What's it to you?” he replied with a look of displeasure.

I frowned, but I didn't let his cold demeanor bother me. I startled him after all, and he probably wanted some peace and quiet as he read. However, I was still dying to know. Hardly anyone came up to the library to read for fun.

“Well, I myself am a huge bookworm, and just by looking at the way you're scrunching your nose as you turn each page, I can tell it's something incredible,” I replied.

The boy scowled down at the book, avoiding eye contact with me as he replied, “ I am not scrunching my nose!”

I chuckled at his serious demeanor and said, “ Boy! You are grumpy. It's okay. You don't have to tell me.”

I was used to people not wanting to engage in conversations with me over my chatty nature, but something about this boy was intriguing. I studied his stern face for a second until it hit me.

“Black!” I exclaimed as he finally looked up at me with a perplexed look.

“What?” he asked, narrowing his eyes and confusion.

“Regulus Black! You're in my potions class! Turn around for a second," I said eagerly.

“Why?” he asked, his signature sour look plastered upon his face.

“Please just do it,” I said.

With a huff, he gave in and turned around ever so slightly. I studied the back of his head, specifically the thick dark colored curls.

“I'd recognize that hair anywhere!” I proclaimed, much to his confusion.

“I sit behind you in class,” I explained.

He scoffed and replied, “I know that,” sounding almost insulted that I implied that he didn't remember me.

“I'm glad to know that you do. You always have your nose in a book so I wasn't sure,” I replied.

A shadow of a smile crossed his lips as he retorted, “You're one to talk.”

“Hey!” I protested, but was equally amused as he was right. I approached him to talk about his latest read after all.

“So… what are you reading right now?" I inquired, trying my luck again as I took a seat next to him. Much to my surprise, he didn't protest.

“A Standard Book of Spells,” he revealed, almost reluctantly.

“Seriously?” I asked, not fully grasping how that could cause him to consume the pages so eagerly.

“What? Not interesting enough for you?” he asked, giving me a side-eyed glance.

“No, that's not what I meant. It's just that your eyes practically danced across the page as you read. I assumed that it was a wild fantasy or a thrilling romance tale,” I responded.

“Do I really strike you as the romance novel type?” he asked, following his brows in an attempt to mask amusement.

“I don't know. This is the first time I've heard you utter more than a sentence that involves you telling Barty Crouch to shut up.”

Regulus snorted “He deserves it. Besides, I don't mess with fictional stories. Reality is complicated enough as it is.”

He said this with the hearty sigh that led me to wonder what hardships he faced in his life. I didn't know much about the scrawny fellow, other than the fact that he came from the Black family, which was one of the most prestigious pureblood wizarding houses.

I knew he had an older brother named Sirius, who if he didn't share a physical resemblance to Regulus, I'd never have guessed was related to him.

Sirius was constantly goofing off with his Gryffindor pals James, Remus, and Peter, while Regulus kept to himself. This tended to make people hesitant to approach the brooding figure. Despite not knowing much about him, I always figured that the pressure of being part of such a prestigious family must be difficult. I didn't blame Regulus for wanting to avoid confrontation.

Studying him, I asked, “ So why the spell book?”

He took a deep breath and then exhaled, “I'm trying out some new charms. An experiment.”

“Really? Isn't that dangerous?” I asked him. “My friend Pandora is always tinkering with spells, and I'm terrified that she'll get herself killed.”

Regulus contemplated this for a moment. “Well… we've got to learn somehow. How else would someone know the truth if they don't bend the rules a bit? A person's got to leave their mark on the world somehow or it’ll leave a mark on them.” He tugged on the sleeve of his robe anxiously as if it held a secret he was trying to conceal.

“Okay. That's pretty insightful,” I replied, impressed as Regulus squirmed in his seat over my compliment. “Anything in particular you're trying to learn?” I peered at his book.

“Well, I overheard Severus Snape working on some incantations the other night and wanted to try them for myself, but the information in the books is quite limited,” he said.

“Snape?” I asked in surprise. He was an odd fellow who was somewhat of an outcast. Lily Evans seemed to be the only one he spent time with on occasion. However, rumor had it that they'd had a row, and since then, Snape had been acting more dark and mysterious than usual. In fact, word around the castle was that he was involved in the dark arts.

Regulus nodded. “He's a strange bloke, but he's wickedly clever. I'd love to be able to learn his way with magic.”

I frowned and said, “You need to be careful with that. Snape's been known to mess around with the dark arts. That's a dangerous route to follow.”

Regulus looked paler than usual as I said that. After a moment of uncomfortable silence he said, “Toujour pur.”

I arched and eyebrow at him. “What?”

“Always pure” he replied. 

I shook my head. “No, no, no. I know what it means. I do know a bit of French. I mean what do you mean by that?”

It's the Black family motto. We are driven by so-called purity. Pure ambition. Pure education. Pure sacrifice. Pureblood,” he said with a sigh. “I've always felt the need to strive for success and prove to my family that I fit their ways, and I'm not just some pathetic loser. Maybe learning those incantations could be my way.”

“You don't need to perform risky incantations to prove yourself to others, and if anyone expects that from you, then maybe it's time to distance yourself from them,” I replied seriously.

He sighed once more, and we sat in silence for a moment until he said, “My brother, Sirius moved out over the summer. He spent the school holidays living with his friend James Potter because he couldn't stand being around our parents.”

I mulled over his confession and replied, ”I'm so sorry to hear that. I had no idea.”

“How could you? It's not like I go around chatting things up with every witch or wizard I meet,” he replied sarcastically. I had to smile as I pictured the usually sullen Regulus gossiping with our peers.

“Sometimes I resent my brother for leaving me alone with our perfectionist parents. Other times, I envy him because he managed to escape their harsh expectations,” he admitted reluctantly.

I nodded sympathetically. I figured that Sirius and Regulus weren’t as thick as thieves considering how one spent his days prancing around Hogwarts while the other preferred the confines of the library. I just never knew the reason for their strained relationship.

“It does make sense. You crave the freedom that Sirius has, but you also feel the need to live up to your family's name,” I replied understandingly. “I know you said that you've grown apart, but I bet you and your brother are not as different as you might believe.”

He raised an eyebrow at me and I could sense the scoff that he was about to emit.

“I’m serious,” I replied, and he gave me a smirk.

“I didn’t know you were my brother,” he said with an amused look.

“Ha, ha,” I said, rolling my eyes at his attempt at being comedic. “Glad to see you can have a sense of humor.

He shrugged, “There’s a lot people don’t know about me.”

I nodded empathetically. “What I meant was that you both clearly have a shared trauma. It’s just the way that you cope that is different. Sirius seems to find creative ways to distract himself from your parents' pressure, and you seem to gravitate towards meeting their expectations.”

Regulus met my eye with an incredulous and reluctant look. “So, you’re a shrink too?" Apparently, I’d hit the nail on the head with my observation.

“What can I say?” It’s the Hufflepuff in me. All my loyalty and kindness must be put to use somehow,” I joked.

He nodded pensively. After a beat of silence, he said, “Thank you”, as he studied the book in front of him. I knew he was only using it to hide behind because his eyes were no longer dancing across the page.

“You’re welcome,” I replied, matching his now gentle tone.

Regulus eventually looked up at me, “I know I may come off as a prick to most people, but I’ve had a lot of responsibility thrust upon me recently. There’s also so much darkness surrounding me. I want to leave it all behind, but I feel like I don’t have a choice,” he said with a sigh.

I sensed that he was alluding to a specific situation, but I didn’t push for him to elaborate.

“I may not know everything you’re going through since you’re a man of few words,” I teased as I elbowed Regulus playfully, which prompted a smile from him. “But, it’s evident that you’re not all darkness,” I replied.

He scoffed, “I appreciate you trying to inflate my ego, but trust me, I’ve really screwed up a lot in my life.”

“Who says I haven’t? I could be a real whack job under this kind exterior. You don’t know where my loyalties lie,” I joked.

Suddenly, the color drained from his already pale face, and for a second, I thought he was going to be sick.

“What if you trusted someone that you shouldn’t have, and now there’s no way out, and I’m…uh…I mean you’re stuck,” he asked with a twinge of desperation mixed with painful regret in his gaze. In our short conversation together, I’d come to realize how much he spoke with his eyes. They communicated what his words could not.

Curiosity was killing me over what circumstances could have left such a grave mark upon Regulus, but I continued to push aside that inkling feeling.

“There’s always a way out. It may not seem that way in the moment, but there’s always an antidote to break a curse, metaphorically speaking of course,” I replied.

Regulus looked at me, and for the first time during our conversation, he held eye contact with me for more than a few seconds.

He swore under his breath. “I wish we’d had this conversation sooner. You could have talked me out of doing something stupid,” he said and then paused. “You’re really smart,” he said, finally breaking eye contact.

I waved off his compliment. “I’m definitely no Ravenclaw. Besides, I’m sure anyone could have told you what I just did.”

"But most won’t,” Regulus said matter of factly. "I appreciate the insight. You probably get it from all those books you’re always reading in class or in the library.”

I raised my eyebrows, surprised by his comment.

“What? I may be stupid, but I’m not oblivious. I’m more observant than most people give me credit for,” he replied with a smirk.

l felt my cheeks grow warm over the implication that Regulus found my habits interesting enough to take notice of.

“Anyway, I’ve talked more about myself than I’ve liked to, so I believe it’s only fair that I flip the table and ask you: what are you reading?” he interrogated with a playful twinkle in his eye.

“Oh!” I said with a chuckle. “The Tales of Beedle the Bard.”

“Fairy tales?" Regulus asked with a grin.

“Hey now! I didn’t judge your reading material, so don't judge mine,” I shot back.

“Me being judgmental? Never!” he teased, and I had to laugh.

“But in all seriousness, I’m surprised that someone as well read as yourself hasn’t read that one yet. Isn’t it like the first book wizarding families read to their children?”

I grew quiet for a second, unsure of how to respond.

At last I said, “The key word there is wizarding families,” I said and paused before continuing. “I’m muggle born.”

Regulus’ eyes widened at my confession. “What? You’re so knowledgeable about magic and the wizarding world in general that I assumed…” he began, his voice trailing off.

“There’s an old muggle saying about assumptions. If you assume, you make an ass out of you and me,” I replied, watching as his eyes shifted from surprise to almost bashful as he registered my words.

“You got me there. I'm sorry. Old habits die hard,” he replied awkwardly. “My parents have been trying to instill their pureblood propaganda into my head.” He tugged at his left sleeve nervously. “I do hope you'll forgive me for my ignorance.”

I gave him a small smile to show him that I wasn't upset.

“Apology accepted. Trust me, being called smart by a sweet guy like you isn't the worst thing I could be called as a muggle-born,” I replied.

Regulus’ pale face flushed pink, but whether it was over my compliment or the insult I was alluding to wasn't clear.

“Gosh! You've enlightened me in more ways than one today,” he replied, still slightly flustered.

I shrugged. “It's a special skill I possess,” I replied with a wink. “Anyway, I think I've kept you long enough. I should probably head up to the dormitory.

“You're leaving already?” Regulus asked in surprise.

“Wow! For someone who didn't want me around earlier, you're a little eager for me to stay,” I teased.

Regulus smiled down at his book, and I had to admit that he looked much more handsome with that expression instead of the usual scowl he wore.

“I mean we spent the entire time talking about my problems. Don't I at least get to know more about you?”

Before I could respond, a clock was heard striking outside in the Great Hall. “Like I was saying, I have to go. Cinderella needs to get home before the magic runs out,” I said in jest.

He gave me an inquisitive look, clearly not understanding my reference.

“Oh, right. I forgot. You don't read fairy tales, much less muggle stories,” I told him as he rolled his eyes good naturedly.

”Smooth,” he replied sarcastically as he gave me a small smirk.

“I'd be happy to share some with you if you'd like. Perhaps, we can meet here again tomorrow evening. Unless, you have a hex that you're researching so you can use it on people who annoy you,” I teased as I eyed A Standard Book of Spells upon the table.

He gave me an uncharacteristically sheepish look, which made me think that my flippant comment wasn't far from the truth. “Luckily, you haven't made it into that category,” he said with a mischievous look in his eyes.

“Yet,” I replied with the same playful tone.

He snorted and asked, “So tomorrow then?”

“It's a date,” I replied, picking up my copy of The Tales of Beedle the Bard and giving him a final wave as I headed towards the library's exit. As I walked out, the last thing I saw was the small smile that crossed Regulus’ lips as he closed his spell book.

I didn't care what anyone thought. The library would always be my favorite place. People are often dismissive of those of us who love to read, but we tend to be the ones with the most interesting stories to tell. Surrounded by the shelves of fact and fiction, we find camaraderie and become open books. I couldn't wait to return tomorrow because no matter what secrets we possessed, the library was our safe haven.

A/N: I am super proud of this piece, so thank you again to the person who requested a Regulus Black story. Please feel free to request a topic you'd like me to write about next from my Masterlist (or another character or topic that interests you).

[seriousaboutsiriusblack]

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