#pandora rosier x dorcas meadows

[sommerregenjuniluft]

@hpsaffics feb 10 - voyeurism/exhibitionism - 3.2k words (apologies hjfkjds) - NSFW

for ino @veryinnovative <3

There’s a sigh from behind Dorcas and then a body draping over her back where she’s in the pleasantly hot and salty smelling water all the way down to her shoulders.

A smile tugs at her lips and she reaches behind through the water for the backs of Pandora’s knees as the other tangles her arms above Dorcas’ chest.

Another heavy sigh, put upon and bordering on melodramatic—god, she really is so cute. Dorcas is gonna have to put her in timeout. Or maybe herself, for everyone’s collective safety. 

She keeps wading them through the water, following Regulus’ black head of curls, and then it’s a noise, a chilly nose nuzzling at the crook of Dorcas’ neck from behind and she can’t help but snicker, “Something wrong, mon cheri?”

Pandora sighs, like she’s faced with a pile of her least favourite work instead of the relaxing thermal bath they’re currently in.

“C’mon, sweets,” Dorcas gently scratches her short nails against Pandora’s bare knee, “Talk to me.”

Pandora mumbles something unintelligible into the hinge of her jaw and Dorcas dips lower into the water to mask the shiver that goes through her whole body.

“Couldn’t quite hear you there.”

Pandora harrumphs, legs tightening in the old around Dorcas’ hips. “Just– dunno,” she deflates slightly, cheek smushed against Dorcas’ shoulder, “Can’t seem to get out of my mood.”

Dorcas hums knowingly, drawing soothing circles on top of her thighs where she’s still holding onto her. Pandora and Evan had been arguing the whole car ride, she told Dorcas she’d slept awfully and when she dropped an open tupperware of fruit as they were packing Pandora nearly started crying. 

“Here,” Dorcas says, turning in the loose embrace and tugging the other girl around to her front, “C’mere, babe.”

Further up front it seems Barty has found a seating ledge under the water which he’s currently taking up as much space on as physically possible while Evan tugs Regulus closer, hooking a chin around his shoulder and watching Barty’s shenanigans with a smirk and glare respectively.

Once Pandora is settled in front of her, legs hooked around her hips and an adorably pitiful pout on her face, Dorcas can’t help but coo at her a little. Wide honey eyes, flecks of gold and her bleached curls sopping wet at the ends where they’re already dunked in the water. The sweetest rosy lips, the small, dark mole under the right corner of her mouth. Dorcas lifts a hand to hold her still by the chin and places a soft kiss on the tip of her nose.

Pandora’s eyelids flutter a bit, the crease between her eyebrows mellowing and Drocas grins, feeling warmer from the inside out, which shouldn’t be quite possible given the bath temperature but never underestimate the charm of a Rosier, she guesses.

The Rosiers got that distinct air around them, too, that no matter the size of your balls makes you start to squirm after only so many minutes of them simply staring at you. Mustering, eyeing, scrutinising, assessing and Dorcas tries to ignore it now on Pandora as she manoeuvres them to one of the underwater pressure nozzles built on the side of the pool wall.

“How’s that feel?” Dorcas mumbles as she positions them in line of the nozzle, directed at Pandora’s back.

Her mouth falls open a little and then her eyes roll back with a groan, legs tightening around Dorcas once more and she has to swallow. Their breasts bump and there’s glitter on the white triangles covering Pandora’s but Dorcas can still see her pert nipples whenever they come up above the surface. Honestly, it’s highly distracting.

“This is better than sex,” Pandora announces, eyes closed in bliss right in front of Dorcas’ face.

A tug in Dorcas’ gut but her mouth tips into a grin, “Then you probably haven’t had any good sex lately.”

“You know I haven’t,” she whines, leaning back and it does something to Dorkas again. Yep, timeout should definitely be something to seriously be considered as of now.

Pandora tips her head back down and fixes Dorcas with a considering glance, lips contorted like it happens when she’s thinking. 

Uh oh.

“Cass,” and it’s unbearably sweet.

“Yeah?”

Pandora’s expression mellows and slips so fast into an amused grin Dorcas feels like experiencing whiplash. Her whole face lights up, pink colour returning to her tan skin and teeth shown in a brilliant smile, a gap between the two front incisors. And then she’s leaning in, giggling and whispering like she’s telling a secret, “The nozzle is blasting away my panties.”

Dorcas blinks and then her hands quickly abandon where she was kneading the muscle of Pandora’s thighs to scramble for the fabric of her swimming underwear. It is indeed all the way down at the crease of her thighs and Dorcas quickly tangles her fingers in to yank it back up as she side-steps the nozzle.

Pandora is laughing like it’s the most amusing thing in the world and Dorcas slips her tongue into the side of one cheek, glaring at her friend as she shakes in Dorcas’ hold.

They stay like this for a few moments, everything around them blurring to an unimportant background muffle as Pandora giggles sweetly into Dorcas’ neck and Dorcas tries not to bite into the elegant rounding of her shoulder or the jut of her collarbones. She’s wearing a small golden chain with a star pendant and a little purple amethyst. Dorcas’ birthstone.

Once she’s calmed down, Pandora pulls back but not far, grinning a little lopsided as she looks at Dorcas.

Dorcas wants to kiss her.

A bleached eyebrow raises pointedly, a predator playing, “You can take your hands off my ass now if you want.”

As if on reflex, Dorcas’ fingers tighten and she barely represses a noise when she, indeed, feels the meat of Pandora’s ass in them. Her heart skips a beat in her chest and then picks back up a little too strongly, “What if I don’t want to?”

Pandora hums, catching her bottom lip between her teeth, “Then don’t.”

Dorcas nods, lips tugging into a smirk and she leans in to place a kiss against Pandora’s cheek, to murmur in her ear, “Feel any better now?”

Pandora nods, her curls tickling Dorcas’ nose. “Still tense though.” Fingers slipping up between the roots of her braids.

“Think I can help with that?”

Another nod, a hum that’s more of a little moan and Dorcas tugs Pandora forward against her, delighting in the gasp she elicits.

Her mouth pulls into a grin, “Legs down, sweets.”

Pandora makes a noise in protest but she lets herself be handled when it’s clear Dorcas is pulling her over one of her thighs in the water.

She throws a look over the back of her shoulder to confirm that the others are still mostly outside of ear shot and otherwise occupied.

When she turns back Pandora is gazing up at her through her lashes with a slack mouth and Dorcas makes a noise in appreciation before she grabs her by the hips and starts a slow rhythm against her bare thigh.

It takes a moment to figure it out, what with the water slowing their movements but Dorcas knows it works when Pandora makes a little noise that sounds equally surprised as it does needy. One of her hands comes down to clutch at her waist, fingers slipping under the belly beads Dorcas is perpetually wearing and Dorcas can’t help but tug a little rougher on the next shift of hips.

“Kiss me?” Pandora whimpers, their noses only a hair width apart but Dorcas tips her head to the side and out of reach.

“We’re gonna get found out, love,” and Pandora’s eyebrows furrow again, a small, pathetic noise slipping out of her. “I know, baby, I know.” Dorcas coos, agitated, and throws another look over her shoulder. 

It’s still relatively empty, the boys busy with themselves and only another middle-aged woman farther back.

Well, fuck public decency. Dorcas turns and immediately captures Pandora in a kiss, a wet slide of lips that has Pandora’s hips stuttering and a whimpering like she’s getting it so good. Dorcas’ blood is thrumming with it.

It’s not like they haven’t done this before. Fumbling, inexperienced hands and shy giggles in Dorcas’ dorm once they’d both figured out they were onto women but it’s different now that they’re older. Adult, more sure of themselves, have dated and loved and tried themselves with others.

Still, it’s like driving by your childhood home, that’s not your house anymore but the tree still stands in the same place in the backyard and you still know which room exactly used to be yours. Where the kitchen is, where you used to eat your meals and where you piled on the couch for your parents to take a photo with an old digital camera of you and your friends all dressed up on your birthday.

Dorcas sucks the plush meat of Pandora’s lower lip between her lips, palm digging in right above her tailbone and a heel hooks around her ankle as Pandora shudders through her arousal, fingers clenching on Dorcas’ hip.

The fabric of her panties keeps dragging against Drocas’ skin and it’s dizzying, her hands moving on their own as they go to grab at Pandora’s ass again. 

She slumps forward, forehead against her collarbones and moaning when Dorcas pushes her down more vigorously.

“Shh,” Dorcas makes, grinning and fucking high off bringing her best girl friend off, “Gotta stay quiet for me, angel.”

Another pitiful noise and Dorcas angles her face up again to steal another kiss, licking into Pandora’s mouth when it pliantly parts for her.

“Cass,” an audible swallow, “Cassy.”

Dorcas sucks in a breath when Pandora starts palming at the swell of her breast, “Hm?”

“’s not enough,” her shoulders draw up helplessly as she grinds down deliriously. “Need mgh—”

“More?” and Pandora nods her head furiously, kissing at Dorcas’ neck, hot and open mouthed. “Want my fingers, bébé?”

“Ah– oui. Please, please.”

Dorcas detaches her gently, hands cupping her cheeks for another slow kiss before she turns Pandora in her arms and leans her against the edge of the pool.

“Keep breathing for me, love.”

Pandora tzks, throws an eye roll over her shoulder as she wiggles her hips underwater, “I know how to breathe.”

Dorcas’ grin stretches so wide her cheeks stain from it, “Try telling me again once I have you on the edge of your orgasm, yeah?”

Pandora’s mouth drops open, slightly affronted, but then closes it quickly as he lets out a whine through clenched teeth when Dorcas slides her panties to the side without preamble.

It’s easy enough to slip the tip of her finger through where Pandora is slick, satiny heat, heaven on earth and they let out a mutual, soft groan when she sheathes it in all the way to the last knuckle. Twisting, turning and then pumping in and out at a pace that makes Pandora’s grip turn white knuckled.

“More,” she gasps after a few moments, toes curling into Dorcas’ calf.

Dorcas hums, places a sweet kiss on the jut of her shoulder blade, “Where are your manners, Dora? Patience is a virtue.”

“Cassy,” the tone of her voice like sharp claws swiping out for Dorcas’ aorta. A frustrated whine, “Need you.”

Dorcas’ grin widens and she lets her teeth graze against her neck, watching her shiver, “Ask nicely?”

A noise that says fuck you, then relenting, “Please.”

“‘Please’ what?”

Her head sinks between her drawn shoulders, the straps of her white bikini top stretched taut, “Please, give me another finger, putain.”

“See?” Dorcas teases, prodding at her wet entrance with the tip of her ring finger, “That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

Pandora moans into the crook of her own arm, “Remind me why we’re doing this again?”

“Mm, because you were basically begging for me to fuck you?”

“Cass.”

“Because you were in a foul mood and I’m such a good friend I’ll go to any lengths to make you feel better—even though you’re being a difficult little brat,” Dorcas snakes her second hand under the garment, circling Pandora’s clit, immediately making her stutter on her inhale.

Pandora grits her teeth, throwing a glare over her shoulder that’s ruined by her swollen mouth and the blush tinting her cheeks, “Since when have you become someone to put people in their place during sex.”

Dorcas grins and leans in, letting their lips brush, “Since you’ve become more confident and quick to open your smart mouth and talk back.”

The helpless moan tumbling out of Pandora gets swallowed by Dorcas’ hungry mouth. Their teeth click with the angle, lips catching on each other and once Dorcas properly rubs over that small bundle of nerves Pandora starts erratically jerking her hips, fucking herself back on Dorcas’ fingers but also grinding into the stimulation.

There’s a loud bark of laughter from behind and Dorcas’ head spins around to watch Barty try and entangle himself with Evan. Regulus is half in their menacing clutches as well, looking entirely unamused but Dorcas knows it’s a harmless farce from the lack of crease between his brows.

They make eye contact for a second and then Regulus’ head snaps back around to her again, mouth falling open a bit and Dorcas’ ministrations falter for a second.

Pandora makes a displeased noise and Dorcas would literally rather drown herself right now than stop so she places a placating kiss to the side of Pandora’s neck before she turns again, giving Regulus a pleading look.

Regulus cocks his head a little, eyes narrowing in a way that say Really? and maybe if Dorcas wasn’t two fingers deep in their girl friend’s delightfully slick pussy she’d stick out her tongue at him. Like this, she simply matches him, daring him to say anything that would steer attention towards and interrupt them.

And because Regulus is a good friend, he turns with an eye roll and makes an effort to sidle up closer to Barty and Evan to keep their attention focused away from what ungodly things the latter’s twin sister is subjected to at the other end of the pool.

“Fuck,” Pandora mutters, throwing her head back against Dorcas’ shoulder, back arched beautifully, hiccuping a breath when Dorcas rolls her clit between thumb and index.

Dorcas’ sucks on the soft skin of Pandora’s neck in response, “How’s your breathing, doll?”

“Fuck you,” she gasps out and Dorcas chuckles against the hot skin, “Don’t fucking stop.”

Dorcas grunts, wrist aching but she wouldn’t dream it, “Promise, sweets. Just be as pretty and good for me as you always are.”

Pandora moans, high pitched, “Good for you?”

“So good,” Dorcas groans, the pulse between her own legs throbbing, “Love having you with me all the time. Smartest girl, prettiest thing to look at.”

Pandora nods—so good for her—and then presses out a strangled, “Love you.”

Dorcas nods, too, braids slipping over her shoulder. “I know,” because she does know. They all love each other unconditionally, irrevocably, unquestionably and they all know it.

The sweetest guttural noise evades Pandora, a distinct edge to the sound that makes Dorcas’ hair stand on end, vibrating with how bad she wants her. “Gonna cum for me, sweets?”

“Yeah,” Pandora whimpers, breath coming in short little bursts, working up to her orgasm as Dorcas keeps the stimulation up, mouthing at the tendons of her neck besides the stupid white bikini halter string.

Her noises increase in pitch, body tensing between Dorcas’ arms and cunt tightening around her fingers and because when Dorcas wants something she goes all in she presses her mouth up against the shell of Pandora’s ear, “Just for me, huh? All for me, sweets, c’mon. Be good and cum for me.”

“Cass,” Pandora chides, moans, and then she’s falling apart. Trembling and shaking, panting and whimpering as she convulses around Dorcas’ fingers in lapping waves of blinding hot pleasure.

Dorcas tips her head forward and watches greedily as Pandora’s lips drop open in a silent cry, brows furrowed, the water lapping between her cleavage and looking like a god damn piece of art. She slows her fingers, keeps the two inside unmoving, pressed deep inside and strokes against her clit gentler as Pandora comes crashing back down gradually.

She slumps back against Dorcas with an exhausted moan, voice raspy and panting shallowly. Slowly coming to again, eyelids fluttering and blowing out an errant curl that’s fallen into her face.

It makes Dorcas’ lips slip into a satisfied grin and she presses a lingering kiss against the other’s flushed cheek, trailing a flutter of closed lips down her jaw and neck as she carefully removes her fingers and slides the swimwear panties back into place.

Pandora makes a little mournful noise but she tips her head to the side in welcome, sighing sweetly when Dorcas’ arms come together in front of her stomach.

The second Dorcas detaches her lips Pandora turns in the embrace and slinks her own palms up Dorcas’ stomach and around, fingers tracing the knobs of spine as she eagerly chases Drocas’ mouth for more.

They stay like this for a few moments, a couple minutes maybe, where they just let their bodies do what they do best—be close with each other and do what feels good. It feels familiar and a little oddly so, like they’re practised in it, almost, like it’s something they do on a daily. But Dorcas basks in it, in the way Pandora’s tongue nudging against hers with the perfect amount of pressure just feels right.

When they draw back Pandora looks less flushed but her cheeks are rosy all the same and her mouth ridiculously swollen, looking downright edible where she licks at the little spit Dorcas left there, whiskey eyes drunk but not hazy and fond where they look right back at her.

“So?” Dorcas asks, stealing another kiss.

Pandora rolls her eyes with a grin, “‘So’ what?”

“Nozzle or sex?” Dorcas smiles toothily.

Pandora’s face slips into a put upon frown, “Now don’t let this get to your head.”

“Oh,” Dorcas makes, waving a hand, “That’s already too late, I’m afraid to say, mon cheri.”

“Incorrigible.”

Dorcas hums, smiling against Pandora’s lips when she tips her chin back up for another kiss.

“Well, well, well,” Barty’s voice comes leering from right behind Dorcas and she sighs. Every era of peace must come to an end, she supposes. “What do we have over here, huh? The two beauties all entangled in each other?”

Regulus is hanging off of his back and watching with a self-satisfied expression, like Dorcas owes him now that he successfully distracted his fucking boyfriends for a continues five minutes so she could take care of Pandora in her time of need.

“Keep your tongue out of my sister’s mouth where I can see it, hm, Meadows?” Evan drawls, sidling up next to Barty.

Dorcas looks back over in time to see Pandora scrunching her nose at Evan childishly and then immediately licking a flat stripe up the side of Dorcas’ face. 

A muscle in Evan’s jaw ticks and then Pandora’s fingers are digging into the hinge of Dorcas’, making her open her mouth and shamelessly licking inside, making a whole show of doing exactly what her brother asked her not to do.

God, Dorcas is gonna put a fucking ring on her.

[the-original-gays]

James was the mum friend in a "wraps you in a soft blanket and makes you tea when you're not feeling well" way.

Sirius needed someone to love him.

Remus needed someone to accept him.

Peter needed someone to value him.

And James made sure each of them went to bed smiling.

Regulus was the mum friend in a "chasing you around the house screaming at you to not put forks in the plug sockets" way.

Evan had no regard for safety, his own or others.

Barty has no impulse control.

Pandora did dangerous experiments on a daily basis.

Dorcas would do just about anything if you paid her enough.

And Regulus was just trying to keep those fucking idiots alive.

[sspadfoot]

The Marauders doing the trauma dumping sweet trend on TikTok

Sirius: My names Sirius and my parents used to torture me as a punishment until I had to run away and I brought haribos

Remus: My names Remus and when I was 5 I was bit by a werewolf because he hated my dad and I brought sour patch kids

Peter: My names Peter and I was tortured until I joined a fascist cult and I brought giant strawberries

James: My names James and my boyfriend broke up with my to join the cult because his parents told him to and I brought jolly ranchers

Regulus: My names Regulus and I’m that boyfriend. I also tried to drown myself on multiple occasions and I brought marshmallows

Barty: My names Barty and I was imperioed by my dad for most of my life, until I became crazy, and I brought twizzlers

Evan: My names Evan and I was forced by my parents to join a cult and I brought rainbow laces cause we’re all fruity

Pandora: My names Pandora and I can see the future so I saw all of my friends and family die and I brought skittles

Dorcas: My names Dorcas and my girlfriend was killed by one of my oldest friends and then I had to go face to face with the leader of the cult and I brought airheads

Lily: My names lily and my sister hated me for most of my life and I had a horrible toxic best friend who called me slurs and I brought nerds

Marlene: My names Marlene and I was killed by my best friend, my sister was also kidnapped and tortured and I brought Reeces

Mary: My names Mary and I was obliviated by my headteacher and I don’t remember why and I brought squashies

[not-rab]

Pandora: The floor's lava!

James: *helping Regulus onto the table*

Barty: *kicks Evan off the sofa*

Dorcas: There are two types of boyfriends

[immadeofdustandshadows]

Marlene: who else is hiding in the laundry room trying to listen to Sirius and Remus's conversation?

Peter: me. I'm in the laundry basket

James: I'm in the washing machine

Regulus: I'm in the closet

Pandora: we accept you, reg 💕

Regulus: no I'm literally in the closet

Dorcas: LOVE IS LOVE 🏳️‍🌈

[rudamaruda520]

James: What the fuck?! Crouch just fucking bit me!

Regulus: oh finally!

James: huh?

*Regulus, Evan, Pandora and Dorcas collectively roll up their sleeves to show him teeth marks*

Pandora: It means you're accepted. Biting is his love language.

[fiasco95]

(Jegulus, Rosekiller, Wolfstar!) MODERN AU where the 3Bs heard someone disrespect Regulus and the outcome of it is well..

Regulus, putting his jacket on:

Dorcas: Oh, where are you off to?

Regulus: To bail out the 3Bs.

Pandora: 3Bs?

Regulus: Brother. Bestfriends. Boyfriend.

Dorcas & Pandora, sighing and getting ready to go out as well: Fuck’s sake.

Bonus…

Regulus: I’m not mad that you did what you did. I’m mad that you got caught.

Sirius, James, Remus, Barty & Evan: Sorry.

Dorcas: Can’t believe you didn’t invite me.

Pandora: Exactly. Then you guys wouldn’t have been caught if we were there to help.

[ecstarry]

imagine regulus’ bachelor trip were he made pandora best woman and she makes everyone wear pink team groom shirts and pink cowboy hats with sparkles and honestly reg doesn’t mind because the sight of all of them with matching shirts in the airport is fucking hilarious they are in the american express lounge waiting for their flight and parents are keeping their children close and covering their ears because barty ‘bad mouth’ crouch can’t stop talking about all the absolutely not family friendly activities they will be doing that weekend

[ghosteccedentesiast]

*Just the slytherin skittles playing truth or dare*

Barty: Truth or dare Regulus?

Regulus: Truth

Barty: Do you want to kiss Potter?

Regulus: Actually dare

Barty: I dare you to kiss Potter!

Regulus: Never have I ever!

Barty: Thats not the god-damn game!

Regulus: *shrugs*

Barty: Never have I ever wanted to kiss Potter!

Regulus, taking out his wand: Silenci-

*The rest just watching in amusement*

Evan: Should we inter-

Dorcas: No, Regs denial is rather amusing!

[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 💖

[spooked-starzz]

evan: this past year ive been slipping in and out of-

dorcas: barty

barty:

regulus:

pandora:

evan: ...depression

[isabel-lillah]

“Did you hear Frank Longbottom hooked up with Alice last week?”

James stood in an empty classroom’s door barely containing his laughter. Regulus, Barty, Evan, Dorcas and Pandora were gossiping so loud he heard them through the closed door while walking down a corridor. They were in so deep they hadn’t even noticed James walking in two minutes ago.

“What?”

“Yeah, apparently it happened at the Ravenclaw party last week.”

“But Alice? Seriou- James?”

It was honestly hilarious how quickly the slytherins (and a ravenclaw) paled after realising he was there, listening. However, they had forgotten everyone in the castle is a gossip - James included.

Plus, he's a gryffindor, so he has a bit more information about the situation.

So James just pushed himself off of the doorframe and joined in: “Did you know they’re officially dating now?”

“They’re what?”

[sweeterelease]

regulus needs someone to kiss. pandora got him into this stupid muggle romance novel and while he can admit it's good writing, all the kissing going on inevitable makes him remember his past experiences, experience. he can't get his brain to stop comparing every affectionate scene with the three-way incident he had with barty and evan in third year. it wasn't even a kiss for merlin's sake, just awkward lips and cheeks pressing against each other, honestly, what were they thinking?

anyway, now he can't help the memory coming back whenever the male lead grabs his partner's face in his hands, it's actually a problem. so he'll listen to dorcas' just kiss someone else, that way those bastards won't be your only reference. dorcas is always right, maybe it could work. the issue now is where in earth does he get someone to kiss him?

he'll figure it out tomorrow. now, dinner is ready and he'll do pretty much anything to get his mind off the book’s happenings for a bit. regulus came in later than usual, the great hall is filled and it's kind of hard to walk through the sea of people, so he bumps into someone's back. shit, a gryffindo— oh hi reg, are you looking for sirius?

regulus stares into james potters' eyes, the boyish grin, he ponders. do the cons outdo the pros in this situation? would the consequences be worth it? hmm. james calls his name a second time and waits patiently, after a couple of seconds without response his eyes wander around nervously.

would you like to kiss me? he finds himself asking, in the middle of a crowded room, with his friends waiting for him at his house's table and his older brother looking at him curiously from across the hall.

james blinks once, twice, three and four times. he clears his throat and sorry, don't think i caught that right? it sounds out of breath, regulus can't tell if it's a good or bad sign.

regulus repeats himself, not sure what's so difficult about a yes or no answer. he continues with i need, um— experience, regulus feels a growing blush at that, definitely not a good sign.

experience. james calls, it's then when regulus catches the deep crimson around the older's cheeks, nose, neck? merlin, it's everywhere. is it really that embarrassing to be asked for a kiss by regulus? well then.

right. i apologize for asking that was— hands wrap around regulus' neck to pull him up. he can't do much but melt into james' embrace and take his kiss.

regulus blinks, he expected james to kiss like he does pretty much anything else, big, loud, unapologetic, and without holding back. but this kiss is tender, a tentative brush of the lips, almost fragile, and he holds regulus like he's made out of glass, like he's sad it has to end. frankly, it's sweet.

james pulls back and stares into regulus eyes, searching. he's shaking, regulus notices, and it takes until his feet meet the ground again to recover from whatever spell this man has put him through, actually— he's not sure it's over quite yet.

was that 'experience' enough? james rasps, brown eyes now glued to regulus' lips. he snakes both hands up the taller's back to mirror the ones still holding his jaw, relishing in the shivers he feels erupting. regulus stares into james potters' eyes again, the slightly bruised lips, he ponders.

no.

[crescenthistory]

Marauders Era Masterlist

💌 = fluff I 📭 = angst I 📬 = hurt/comfort I 📜 = smut I 🪧 = humour

࣪𖤐 regulus black

(3.8k) Totally Just the Fifth and Sixth Wheel (💌🪧: mutual pining, reg and reader in denial about their feelings are called out by friends)

⤷ (4.8k) Part 2, Still Just Totally the Fifth and Sixth Wheel, You Guys (💌🪧: the triple date to hogsmeade, more pining and denial ensues) ⤷ (6.8k) Part 3, Okay Fine Maybe We're In Love! (💌: the culmination of their feelings paired with an eventful quidditch match)

(2.6k) You occupy my every thought (💌📬: reader just gets regulus and he is flabbergasted, sunshine x grumpy dynamic)

(3k) Are you falling asleep on me? (💌: you would rather spend a late night studying in the library with regulus than be without him; he is enamoured with you for it)

(5.7k) Professional Meddlers (🪧: the girls play matchmakers with you and regulus, some hurt/comfort if you squint)

(6k) Come Running (📬: regulus is the last to find out his girlfriend is injured, feat. found family with your shared friends and madam pomfrey)

⤷ blurb about rosekiller's reaction

(5.5k) And what will come of us then? (📬📭: regulus finds reader sobbing with magical ink on her hands and is forced to confront himself)

(3k) on the tip of my tongue (💌: regulus says "i love you" for the first time and reflects on what love has been for him over the years)

cat!animagus!reader (aka the adventures of whiskers, feat. bsf!marauders)

⤷ (3k) Feline Touches (💌🪧: regulus knows exactly where to find you when you're hiding from the cold) ⤷ (2.4k) Sweet Like Honey; Karma is a Cat (💌🪧: wolfstar neglect to wake you when you and reg fall asleep in cat form) ⤷ (2.4k) Padfoot vs. Whiskers (💌🪧: you and reg get revenge on sirius in cat form) ⤷ (1.7k) Where Padfoot Lays His Head (📬: whiskers comforts padfoot) ⤷ (1.3k) the furred shoulder (📬🪧: reader remains in animagus form when she has a petty fight with reg, he tries to get her back) ⤷ (1.8k) not sneeze proof (💌📬: reader keeps turning into whiskers when she sneezes)

drabbles:

(1.5k) let me see you (📜: reg is working on letting go and opening up to you; you're encouraging him)

(1.3k) he seeks a celebration (💌, suggestive, when slytherin wins the quidditch match, regulus just want to celebrate with you)

(1.3k) nothing matters but you (💌, cuddling the night before your birthday)

ִ ࣪𖤐 barty crouch jr

(4.2k) Toe The Line (💌: potentially suggestive, friends to lovers, confronting barty about his flirting with you)

(3.4k) Murder’s On the Wishlist (📬: you’re forced to go home for christmas, barty is your comfort)

(3.7k) steady me, guide me, love me (📬: when barty gets into another fight you have a serious talk)

(3.6k) You woke me up for this? (💌: barty is bored in the middle of the night, so of course he goes to you)

(2.3k) the blood means i love you (📜📬: reader accidentally makes barty bleed and he loves it, aftercare)

grumpy!reader universe

⤷ (2.4k) Aren't you just a sweetheart? (🪧: kinda sunshine/grumpy dynamic, bickering type of flirting) ⤷ (3.1k) and what about it? (🪧: your friends find out you and barty are dating) ⤷ (6k) this isn't fun anymore (📬: it gets serious and that scares you both) ⤷ (2.7k) an insufferable dance (🪧: set before they start dating, dance at hogsmeade) ⤷ (2k) sleepy midnight escapades (💌: an anxious remus goes looking for you at night when you miss curfew and finds you with barty)

𖤐 marauders

james fleamont potter

(3.7k) The Boy with the Glasses is Blind (💌📬: pining, james mistakenly thinks you're in love with your best friend barty)

remus lupin

(14.4k) It's Nice To Have A Friend (💌📬: childhood best friends to lovers, you are the only person remus is comfortable being physically affectionate with publically)

poly!marauders

(3.5k) What You Became (💌🪧: poly!marauders react when their clumsy girlfriend becomes a swan animagus)

platonic!bestfriend!marauders are heavily featured in animagus!reader x regulus black:

Feline Touches & Sweet Like Honey; Karma is a Cat & Padfoot vs. Whiskers & Where Padfoot Lays His Head

𖤐 slytherin skittles

includes: barty, evan, regulus, dorcas, pandora

headcanons:

the holy bible of crescenthistory canon for the slytherin skittles (individually & together)

how would the skittles react to you walking into a party looking smashing? (suggestive)

barty as the best man at reg x reader’s wedding

[ittgirl23]

I think Peter made a Sirius-Serious jar, much like a swear jar, in fifth year. He was totally fed up with hearing “no, I’M Sirius,” all the time. Every time a joke was made, they had to put a galleon in the jar.

Sirius was near broke by the end of the year, James had also lost a significant amount of money, and Remus only put one galleon in when Lily asked during a study session, “Are you fucking serious?” And he replied with “I wish.”

[mydeadgaywizards]

marauders “hear me out” cake except it’s just everyone putting fleamont and effie while james dies in the background