#stubborn Reggie

[azrielelia]

I live and breathe for aggressive James,, hc that jeg fights all the damn time but never go to sleep angry <3333

“James was kinda mean in this fic” I think we should let him be meaner. Matter of fact, I think we should let him start biting people.

[latenightreadingpdf]

A Hufflepuff's Heart - Regulus Black

₊‧⁺˖⋆ Masterlist ⋆˖⁺‧₊

Summary: Regulus Black’s unexpected friendship with a sweet Hufflepuff is revealed when Sirius catches them together.

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

The air in the castle was brisk, the cool draft weaving through the stone corridors and carrying with it the faint scent of autumn leaves and freshly lit torches. Regulus pulled his cloak a little tighter around his shoulders, his mind preoccupied with the latest round of pranks that had once again targeted Slytherin House. It wasn’t hard to guess who was responsible—his brother Sirius’s handiwork was as familiar as it was aggravating. Regulus could almost predict the moment Sirius would appear, armed with a smirk and a taunt, ready to test his patience yet again.

Sure enough, as Regulus turned the corner, Sirius was waiting there, arms crossed, looking entirely too pleased with himself.

“Ah, Regulus,” Sirius drawled, that irritatingly self-satisfied smile tugging at his lips. “How’s my favorite Slytherin?”

Regulus forced himself to remain calm, carefully keeping his expression neutral, planning to just walk right past his brother.

Sirius’s grin widened, undeterred. “I take it you noticed the common room… enhancement? Thought the emerald and silver scheme could use a bit of sparkle.”

Regulus rolled his eyes, the irritation flaring up despite his attempts to stay indifferent. “If you’re going to make yourself a nuisance, at least have the decency to make it subtle.”

“Oh, subtlety is no fun, Reg,” Sirius replied easily, leaning back against the wall, his eyes glinting with mischief. “Besides, it’s not as if you’re incapable of a bit of rule-breaking yourself. Don’t think I don’t know about those after-hours trips to the library—”

“Sirius,” Regulus interrupted sharply, his voice low but firm. “I’m not interested in discussing my nightly habits with you.”

Before Sirius could fire back, the sound of footsteps echoed down the corridor, followed by a familiar, bright voice that cut through the tension like sunlight breaking through clouds.

“Reggy!”

Both brothers turned to see you striding towards them, your Hufflepuff robes swishing as you approached, your face lighting up with a smile that was warm enough to melt even the most stubborn winter chill. Regulus’s expression softened instantly, his usual guarded look replaced by something more open, more vulnerable.

Without a second thought, you walked right up to Regulus and wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him into a hug. He stiffened for a heartbeat, caught off guard by your sudden affection, but quickly melted into the embrace, his arms coming up to hold you close.

“Hey,” you said softly, pulling back just enough to look at him, your eyes filled with warmth and a hint of concern. “How have you been?”

“I’m… good,” Regulus replied, his voice softer than usual, almost as if he were afraid of breaking the spell your presence cast. A small, genuine smile tugged at his lips, a rare sight that seemed reserved only for you.

As you finally pulled back, still standing close to him, you seemed to notice Sirius for the first time, your gaze shifting over to the older Black brother with a look of surprise. A polite, curious smile flickered across your face as you gave him a small wave.

“Oh, hi! I didn’t realize there was anyone else here. I’m Y/N,” you said, introducing yourself in that sweet, open way that Regulus had come to adore.

Sirius raised his eyebrows, looking you up and down as if trying to solve a riddle. He offered a nod, his grin softening into something more curious, though he said nothing in reply. For once, Sirius Black seemed to be at a loss for words. There was something he couldn’t quite place about you—a gentleness, a warmth—that seemed so at odds with the icy walls Regulus usually built around himself. It was strange, almost impossible to imagine someone so kind being so close to his guarded, distant brother.

After a moment, Sirius managed a slight smile, finally extending his hand to you. "Sirius Black,” he introduced himself, his tone curious, though he kept his usual charm restrained. “Regulus’s… older brother.”

You took his hand, returning his smile with a polite one of your own. “Oh! It’s nice to meet you,” you replied, a hint of surprise in your voice. You turned back to Regulus, seemingly oblivious to Sirius’s scrutiny. “I had no idea you had a brother, Reggy!” you said with a laugh, your eyes shining with amusement. “You keep him quite the secret.”

Regulus shifted, his hand instinctively tightening around your shoulder. He’d dreaded this moment for so long, the day you would meet Sirius, the brother who seemed to draw people in without effort, who everyone adored and admired. Regulus had always felt invisible in his shadow, the “other” Black brother, colder and quieter, always on the outside looking in. But you had seen him—you had seen past the walls, the carefully constructed mask, and found something worth holding onto. And he couldn’t bear the thought of sharing that with Sirius, of watching you get pulled into his brother’s orbit and realizing he could never be what Sirius was.

Sirius, still watching silently, caught the faint, possessive gesture, the way Regulus seemed to pull you closer as if trying to keep you all to himself. His expression flickered with something unreadable, a mixture of curiosity and something softer, something he hadn’t expected to feel. Seeing Regulus with you—seeing his younger brother so fiercely protective of this rare connection—stirred something in him, a strange pang of almost… respect.

The silence stretched, and you shifted slightly, glancing between the two brothers as if sensing the tension, though you didn’t seem to mind. Instead, you gave Sirius a warm, friendly smile before turning back to Regulus, your hand reaching for his as you gave it a gentle squeeze.

“Well, Reggy and I should get going,” you said softly, looking up at him. “We’ve got some homework to catch up on.”

Regulus’s gaze softened at the touch, and he nodded, his lips curving into that faint, private smile that he reserved only for you. “Yes, we should.”

With a final nod toward Sirius, Regulus gently guided you down the hallway, his arm draped protectively over your shoulders. He glanced back once, catching Sirius’s gaze, and for a fleeting moment, the brothers shared a look of understanding—a silent acknowledgment, a truce of sorts. Sirius watched as you walked away together, his brow furrowed in thought, his mind turning over the strange puzzle of his brother and his unlikely friend.

How did someone as kind, as open-hearted as you manage to find your way into the life of someone as complex and withdrawn as Regulus? Sirius couldn’t understand it, couldn’t fathom what had drawn you to his quiet, brooding brother. But as he watched the two of you disappear down the corridor, he felt a spark of hope, a rare flicker of warmth in the cold, stone-cast walls of the castle.

Maybe Regulus had found something Sirius had never truly understood—a genuine connection that didn’t rely on charm or bravado, but on something softer, something real.

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

[colouredbyd]

"If you look closely, you'll see them!"

Regulus Black x fem!reader

synopsis: you swear regulus has dimples but no one believes you, not until he walks in and finds you with his eyes. the room stills, and for a breathless moment, they begin to see what you always have.

warnings: pure fluff, mentions of cold deameanor, some mild language, grumpy x sunshine kinda?

w/c: 3k

a/n: my headcanon is that regulus has dimples!!! i said what i said guys, argue with me !! also this has been in my drafts for a good 7 months </3

masterlist

"Regulus Black does not have dimples!"

Sirius declares for the third time that afternoon, sprawled across the common room sofa with his legs thrown carelessly over James’s lap, his voice carrying that unbothered arrogance he wielded like a second skin.

"You’re hallucinating."

You scoff, crossing your arms over your chest as you stand firm before the Marauders, unyielding in your defiance. Mary is nestled against Remus’s shoulder, her eyes glimmering with barely-contained amusement as if she knows something the others don’t.

"I am not hallucinating," you retort, voice dripping with indignation, hands finding your hips in a stance that borders on stubbornness. "I’ve seen them! They’re right here."

You jab your own cheeks for emphasis, fingers pressing into the softness just beneath your eyes, and the room erupts into snorts and muffled laughter, your so-called friends delighting in your apparent delusion.

But you know the truth. You have seen them—the delicate crescents that carve themselves into his cheeks when he smiles in that unguarded way, soft and fleeting, like moonlight filtering through darkened leaves. It is a secret you hold close to your heart, something sacred and untouched, for Regulus Black is not supposed to smile like that. Not according to them.

To everyone else, he is sharp lines and cold eyes, distant and unyielding, a boy forged from winter’s breath and brittle starlight. His name drips from their tongues like a warning, a reminder of ancient bloodlines and whispered expectations. But you know better. You have seen the way his eyes soften when you laugh, the way his hands hesitate before touching yours as if afraid he might shatter something precious.

Regulus Black, to you, is soft edges and hidden warmth, tenderness folded into the corners of his smile, something gentle and achingly beautiful beneath the surface. They could not see it, would not believe it, but you did. You always did.

"Darling," James begins, slipping into his most condescending tone as he tilts his glasses down the bridge of his nose to peer at you properly, eyes alight with mischief. "I’ve known Reggie since fourth year, and not once have I ever seen a dimple. Not even a suggestion of one."

He is wrong, you think, pressing your lips together to keep the secret tucked safely in your heart.

They do not know the way Regulus looks at you when no one is watching, how his gaze softens like the edge of dawn, or how his laugh—rare and unbidden—blooms like a flower in the dark. They do not know that Regulus Black, for all his coldness, holds sunlight in his smile, and you are one of the very few who has ever been allowed to see it.

"That’s because you’re not paying attention," you shoot back, arms crossing defensively. "He does this little smile sometimes, it’s soft and kind of lopsided, and there’s this tiny dimple right here—" you poke your cheek again, more insistently, as if the physicality might convince them. "I swear, it’s like magic."

"Or madness," Remus suggests mildly, and Mary dissolves into laughter, her curls shaking as she leans further into him.

"I mean, we’re talking about Regulus Black here, right? My-face-is-carved-from-stone Regulus Black?"

"Maybe it’s just a shadow," Sirius chimes in, inspecting his nails with a grin that teeters on smugness. He hardly even glances up, as if the matter is too trivial for his full attention.

"A trick of the light. Or you’ve been hexed. Definitely hexed. I bet it’s a dimple jinx. You see fake dimples, fall madly in love." His grin widens, eyes glinting with mischief, and the others snicker at the notion.

"I have not been hexed!" you cry, voice pitching higher in your indignation, but your outburst only seems to spur their laughter further.

The sound spills into the room like the crackle of firewood, unrestrained and merry, and you stand at the center of it all, defiant and unyielding. "I’m telling you, I’ve seen them. He has dimples!"

"Right," James nods, his expression shifting to exaggerated seriousness as he claps a hand on your shoulder, eyes sparkling with that brand of Marauder mischief that rarely bodes well.

"And I’m secretly the heir to the Malfoy fortune."

"Stop it." you protest, your hands flying to your hips as if that might root your argument more firmly in truth.

"He has dimples. If you look closely, you’ll see them!"

They laugh again, the sound bubbling up like champagne flutes clinking together, indulgent and disbelieving. But you only hold your ground, chin tilted upward with all the stubbornness of someone who has glimpsed something magical and refuses to let it be reduced to smoke and shadows.

Because you know. You have seen the way Regulus’s face softens when he lets his guard slip, how those tiny, secret dimples blossom at the edges of his smile like something fragile and hidden from the rest of the world. It is not a trick of the light, not some fleeting mirage conjured by wishful thinking.

It is real. He is real. And maybe, just maybe, they have never looked closely enough.

"He does not," Sirius says flatly. "I would know. I’ve seen that miserable mug for seventeen years straight, and not once has it ever hinted at joy. If he’s smiling for you, you might want to check if he’s choking."

"You don’t know everything about him," you snap back, and it’s a bit more pointed than you intended, because Sirius’s expression shifts for the briefest moment, but then he’s back to smirking, one brow arched.

"Oh, I know enough. And I know that my miserable little brother is physically incapable of producing dimples. It would require smiling first. Which is practically illegal for him, by the way. Pretty sure he signed a contract with Death himself."

"He does smile," you argue. "Just... not around you lot."

Mary’s eyes light up at that, and she sits up a little straighter, nudging Remus. "Not around us, huh? Just around you?"

You hesitate, heat creeping up your neck. "Well… yeah. I suppose." At their expressions, you quickly add, "That’s not weird!"

"It’s a little weird," Remus says thoughtfully. "I mean, I’ve never seen him smile like that." He looks to Sirius for confirmation, who just shakes his head.

"Me neither," Sirius agrees. "And if he was going to be grinning like a lovesick idiot, I feel like I’d know. Or maybe you just have some sort of freaky dimple-seeing ability. Is that a thing? Can we get that checked?"

"Maybe he only smiles for her," Mary sing-songs, and you swat at her, cheeks blazing. "What? I’m just saying!"

You cross your arms tighter over your chest, frustration curling hot and sharp beneath your ribs. You know what you saw. It wasn’t magic or shadows or madness. It was Regulus, soft and unguarded in a way that felt almost secret. A piece of him reserved just for you, like a glimpse behind the curtain of a play only you were meant to watch.

But they wouldn’t believe you. They couldn’t. Because to them, Regulus was all sharp edges and cold stares, impenetrable as stone. But to you, he was something else entirely.

You saw the parts he kept hidden—the softness, the ache, the way his eyes would linger when he thought you weren’t looking. The way his fingers brushed yours just a bit too long when he handed you your books, the way he stood a little closer than necessary when you walked side by side. His dimples were proof of it. Proof of the parts of him that were gentle and real and yours.

"I’m not making it up," you murmur stubbornly, softer this time, almost like you’re telling it to yourself.

James leans back, stretching his legs out in front of him. "You know, I almost want you to be right. I’ve never seen Regulus with dimples before. I think it would break my brain."

The room is still shaking with laughter when the portrait door swings open. It is a subtle thing, just the soft groan of hinges and the hush of movement, but you feel it like an echo in your bones. Your gaze snaps up before you can help it, the breath stalling in your lungs as if caught between heartbeats.

There he is, Regulus Black, framed in the doorway like he has stepped out of a painting, shadows and light playing across his features in sharp relief.

He is ice and elegance, his gaze sweeping over the room with cool detachment, the sort of look that makes even Sirius go still. His brother’s grin falters, an instinctual pause as if the air has been sucked from the room.

Regulus’s eyes flicker over them, James’s raised brow, Sirius’s smirk half-frozen in place, Remus’s unbothered calm, but there is nothing there, not even a nod of acknowledgment. His expression is marble-carved, beautiful and unyielding.

But then his gaze finds yours, and it softens, melts like snow beneath the first touch of spring. His eyes brighten, lips twitching at the corners, and suddenly it is like you are the only two people in the room. The change is breathtaking, the kind of transformation that feels like stepping into sunlight after days of rain.

Without thinking, you are already moving, feet carrying you across the room as if pulled by some invisible thread.

"Regulus," you breathe, and the way his name falls from your lips feels like unspooling thread, like the first sigh of spring. His expression softens entirely, something delicate and aching sparking behind his eyes as you practically throw yourself into his arms. He catches you easily, arms winding around your waist, steady and certain, like he has been waiting for you his entire life.

Your hands are in his hair before you realize it, fingertips grazing the base of his neck as you pull back just enough to look at him properly. His smile is still there, still hovering at the edges, and it is soft and real and yours.

"I missed you," you whisper, half a confession, half a prayer, and as soon as the words leave your lips, it happens.

A tiny crease, delicate and almost imperceptible, blooms on his left cheek, like the first hint of dawn breaking over a dark horizon.

A dimple, soft and secret, there and gone in a heartbeat, as if it only exists for you.

"I missed you too, amour," he murmurs, his gaze flicking over your face like he is memorizing it. "You have no idea."

There is a tension in the room, thick and breathless, as if the very walls are leaning in to listen, the crackle of the fire muted under the weight of disbelief.

The Marauders and Mary are watching with wide eyes, suspended between fascination and utter incredulity, as if the scene before them is too tender, too impossibly soft to be real.

Regulus Black—aloof and unyielding, frost-kissed and sharp-edged—is holding you like something sacred, his arms wrapped around you with a gentleness that seems to contradict everything they thought they knew of him. His thumb brushes across your cheek, feather-light and reverent, as though you are made of something finer than bone and breath, something worth protecting.

And then he smiles—just a fraction more—but it is enough.

You do not even realize what you are doing; your body moves before your mind catches up, and you lean up to press a kiss to the corner of his mouth, quick and soft and so achingly familiar it feels like slipping into an old memory. He blinks, eyes flickering with surprise, but you do not pull away.

You lean in again, pressing your lips to his other cheek, right where his smile deepens, and it happens—a twin to the first, blooming on the opposite cheek as if coaxed into existence by your touch alone.

A second dimple, tender and unmistakable, carved into his pale skin like it had been waiting there all along, hidden just beneath the surface.

You are not the only one who notices.

Behind you, there is the unmistakable sound of someone choking on their own breath, followed by a very loud, "What the hell?" from James, his voice pitched somewhere between awe and utter disbelief.

Regulus glances up, his gaze catching on James, who is staring as if he has just witnessed stone turn to gold, like magic itself has unfolded right in front of him.

Sirius is uncharacteristically silent, eyes narrowed in something akin to suspicion or maybe even wonder, while James’s jaw is completely unhinged, glasses slipping precariously down the bridge of his nose.

Remus is blinking rapidly, as if trying to clear away a mirage, mouth slightly parted in surprise. And Mary—sweet, sharp-eyed Mary—looks positively gleeful, her grin spreading slow and wicked as she nudges Remus sharply in the ribs, her eyes dancing with triumph.

"I told you," she mouths, lips curving around each word with delight.

Because it is true.

There is no need to look closely, no need to squint or peer beneath shadows—Regulus Black’s dimples are right there, clear as daylight and twice as warm, so stunningly visible that they might as well have been carved out of starlight.

They blossom wide and unguarded, softening the sharp lines of his face, and for a heartbeat, he is not the boy forged from winter’s chill and midnight silence. He is something brighter, something softer, and it is plain to see that with you, he is allowed to be gentle.

"I told you!" you practically crow, turning back to face them while still locked in Regulus’s arms. "I told you he has dimples!"

Sirius remains silent, watching with something like suspicion, but James looks like he has seen a ghost.

James is still staring. "I think I need to sit down."

"You are sitting down," Remus points out.

"I think I need to sit down lower," James clarifies faintly.

But you are not paying attention to them anymore, because Regulus is looking at you with that same impossible smile, both dimples still lingering like promises.

His hand cups your cheek, thumb stroking a gentle line across your skin. "You told them about my dimples?" he asks, voice low and edged with amusement.

You nod, breathless and unashamed. "I did. And they did not believe me."

His smile softens, stretching wider, and both dimples deepen like secret doorways to some hidden softness that only you are allowed to see.

He leans in, the space between you shrinking until his breath mingles with yours, and his voice drops to a low, velvety murmur meant only for you.

"You really should not spend so much time with Gryffindors," he whispers, his tone laced with quiet disdain that is more habit than heart, though his gaze remains warm and unyielding, crafted entirely for you. "I think they are starting to rub off on you." His eyes glimmer with amusement, but there is something else there too, something tender that settles in the quiet curve of his smile.

Your laughter spills out, bright and unrestrained, like the first crack of sunlight through winter clouds, and before you know it, your hands are tugging him closer, closing whatever space remains.

In that moment, it is just you and him, suspended in the fragile stillness that belongs only to the two of you, where the rest of the world feels distant and unimportant, something to be dealt with later.

For now, there is only this: his smile, his dimples carved like promises into his cheeks, and the gentle, unwavering warmth of his arms around you, holding you close as if he is terrified of letting go, as if this is a vow whispered into the spaces between heartbeats.

The truth is, Sirius had always known that Regulus had dimples.

He had known for years, had seen the faint creases carve themselves into his brother’s cheeks on the rarest of occasions, like fleeting whispers of a softer world beneath the ice.

But the thing is, those dimples only ever appeared when Regulus was around you, when your laughter spilled into the room like sunlight or when your name slipped from his mouth with that unguarded tenderness that seemed to unravel something deep and hidden in him.

It was as though the universe had woven this small, delicate fragment of softness solely for you to uncover, a secret threaded carefully into the very fabric of him, waiting patiently for your hands to find it, to hold it like something sacred and fragile and wholly yours.

[uramakimochi]

BABYSITTING TIME

Wolfstar x daughter!Reader

(But it's mostly uncle Regulus and uncle Barty here sorry)

- yes i know there's David Tennant but i'm in love with the fancasts leave me alone (you can imagine whoever you want though) -

WARNINGS: nothing just fluff, FEM!R but no use of Y/n, Regulus and Barty babysitting Wolfstar daughter, Barty being Barty but we love him for it. This is sort of connected to this post but it can also be considered as a single piece.

English is not my first language so feel free to correct me.

Regulus and Barty were sitting on the living room couch, while you sat at their feet on the carpet, playing with your toys. Until you suddenly raised your head to look at them.

"Uncle Reggie, Uncle Barty?"

"Yes, my dear?" Regulus asked, leaning forward slightly.

"Can i ask you a question?" you said, looking at them with your big bright eyes.

"You just did, little viper" Barty replied.

Regulus turned to glare at him and slapped him on the arm, but the other smiled amusedly, knowing that this response would make the little girl giggle. In fact, you laughed, shaking your little head shyly and hiding your face behind your rag doll.

"No Uncle Barty, that wasn't the question"

Regulus ignored the arrogant look of Barty next to him, who was looking at him with an expression that seemed to say "What did i tell you?" and looked back at his (only) favorite niece.

"What did you want to ask us, amour?"

You stood up on your little legs and reached Regulus', climbing on top of him and sitting on his lap. He welcomed you without any problems and clasped his hands behind your back to prevent you from falling backwards.

"How are babies born?"

Regulus stiffened and felt his heart skip a beat. Okay, that wasn't the kind of question he was expecting at all. Barty, grinned even more mischievously, now curious to know what his friend would've answered.

"Why are you asking this, darling? Aren't you a little too young to be asking these questions?" Regulus replied skillfully, trying not to let his embarrassment show.

But you shrugged, continuing to stare intently into his eyes for an answer, not seeing where the problem was. And the more Regulus looked at you the more it seemed like his forehead was starting to sweat. He really had no idea what to say to you. But then he opted for the easiest answer.

"You have to ask your fathers these things, chérie"

"But i want to know now!" you replied impatiently, rocking back and forth. "How were you born Uncle Reggie?"

When you leaned towards him to grip his shirt in your fists, Regulus didn't hold back from letting out a small sigh. You were a sweet little girl like Remus, but even though you weren't their biological daughter, you still inherited some of Sirius' stubbornness somehow. Regulus knew that the matter would not be over until you received an answer.

"Alright" he murmured, giving you a small, uncertain smile and you focused all your attention on him, more intrigued than ever. "Listen sweetheart, when two people love each other and want to have a child... Um, they-"

"They do a thing called se-"

Barty nearly screamed in pain when Regulus' palm left your back to slap over his mouth, stopping him just in time from what he was about to say. Barty turned to glare at him, but what he saw was only a murderous glare from Regulus. The two exchanged a mental conversation, while you looked at them in confusion, alternating your eyes from one to the other.

"Uncle Reggie?"

Regulus turned to look at you, smiling innocently again, as if nothing had happened.

"It's the stork, chérie" he said soothingly, still clamping his hand over Barty's mouth. "The stork brings babies to the homes of parents who want a child"

Your eyes widened.

"Like the owls that bring us letters??"

"Exactly" Regulus nodded and Barty rolled his eyes. "Your dad and daddy asked the stork for a baby girl and the stork brought you here to them. And your grandparents did the same thing with Remus, Sirius and me. And also James and Lily with Harry"

"Ooh! That's so cool!"

Regulus chuckled when he saw your surprise at having learned something new. And he felt very satisfied with having succeeded in his job, unlike that idiot of Barty. And speaking of Barty...

"Sweetheart, i have to talk to Uncle Barty about something important" Regulus said and you nodded understandingly. "Why don't you go into the kitchen and have a glass of juice? Then i'll make you something to eat, sounds good?"

You nodded frantically, not wanting to miss the opportunity to drink anything other than water before dinner.

"Thanks Uncle Reggie~" you said with a big smile, leaning towards him to leave a loud smooch on his cheek, making his heart beat a little faster in tenderness.

Then you got off his lap and ran to the kitchen and as he saw you disappear around the corner, Regulus' smile fell in a split second and he turned to look at Barty again, finally removing his hand from his mouth.

"Aah, about time!" Barty took a deep breath, then rubbed his cheek with his hand. "Did you want to suffocate me or something?"

Regulus glared at him even more evilly than before.

"Were you really going to talk to my niece about sex?! Are you out of your goddamn mind??!"

Barty shrugged, leaning back on the couch cushion. "It's not like she can understand anything about it, she's a child. How old is she, like 4, 5?"

"She's almost 7, you idiot!" Regulus retorted through gritted teeth, then lowered his voice again, not wanting to be heard by you. "And it doesn't matter if she doesn't understand anything, because at this age she tells his parents all the new things she learns! Remus would kill you. And Sirius would kill me because i didn't stop you!"

"You're all too sensitive" Barty muttered, waving a hand. "As soon as my little viper discovers the world of adults, she won't want to talk to any of you about it but she'll run to Uncle Barty, because she knows that i'm the only one who can tell her everything there is to know. Just wait"

This time it was Regulus's turn to roll his eyes with a sigh. You were still too innocent in his and your fathers' eyes, he just hoped that the time you would become an adult would never come.

"Uncle Reggie!"

Both Rugulus and Barty heard your voice coming from the kitchen.

"Could you get me the juice, please? Dad put it on the top shelf and i can't reach it!"

"I'll be right there chérie!" Regulus exclaimed, then shot one last glare at Barty, pointing a finger at him. "Not. A. Word"

Barty raised his hands in surrender with a smirk and Regulus rose from the couch, followed by him. The two joined you in the kitchen and while you sat down at the table, Regulus took the bottle of fruit juice from the cupboard, then poured it into your glass and handed it to you.

"Uncle Barty" you called, placing the glass on the table and looking at your other uncle, who was standing leaning against the countertop with his arms crossed. "What were you about to say before Uncle Reggie put his hand over your mouth?"

Barty smiled amusedly and passed from your pure eyes to Regulus' ones, who was looking at him sternly from behind you.

"Nothing, little viper" he replied simply. "These are things you'll know when you're older"

You huffed and crossed your arms, making him chuckle.

"Ooh ugh"

The following morning, while Barty was lying on the sofa in his house, busy doing precisely nothing, suddenly the fireplace in the living room caught fire and the figure of Sirius emerged from the green flames.

"BARTEMIUS CROUCH JUNIOR HAVE YOU TRIED TO TALK TO MY DAUGHTER ABOUT SEX?! I SWEAR I'LL BITE ALL YOUR HORRIBLE TATTOOS OFF YOUR BODY COME HERE YOU FUCKER"

Barty had no time to realize the situation before Sirius became Padfoot and began chasing him, barking loudly. Barty screamed in fear and jumped over the sofa to escape Sirius' fangs.

A few seconds later, Remus also appeared in the living room, with your body lifted in his arms. He also had a furious look on his face, but he tried to keep himself from saying profanity for your sake. And then, his husband was already taking care of Barty.

"I want to play too!" you suddenly exclaimed, watching your father and your uncle run around and not understanding that in reality that wasn't a game for them at all.

And while Barty was running around the living room, chased by Sirius, you got out of Remus' arms to run after Padfoot, in a continuous circle.

Remus ran a hand over his face in exasperation. Now he understood Regulus.

[prythiansprincess]

le coup de foudre.

pairing: regulus black x reader.

song inspiration: my love mine all mine by mitski.

author's note: this was a result of me binging dune and call me by your name. whoever fancasted timothee chalamet as regulus deserves a forehead kith cause look at him. he's so boyfriend coded it makes me sick.

Regulus Black did not believe in love at first sight. 

It was a foolish notion. One that contradicted his pragmatic beliefs. At his core, Regulus was a realist. In his world, love was not a luxury one could afford. Regulus was raised with the expectation to marry according to class, wealth, and most importantly, blood status. The noble and most ancient house of Black only took the purest of the pure. 

After all, Toujours Pur, always pure, had been the Black family motto for centuries. There has never been any doubt in his mind that he would marry another member of the sacred twenty eight. It wasn’t a matter of if, only a question of when. 

During his sixth year, his mother made her intentions very clear. Walburga Black was adamant that he begin his search for a suitable bride. Leave it to his mother to compose a list of ladies she deemed suitable to become the future Mrs. Black. Regulus was to adhere to the carefully curated roster. They were names that he’d seen a million times before. Greengrass, Prewett, Rosier. Girls he’d grown up with and inadvertently had absolutely no interest in. 

Still, his mother was insistent so Regulus complied. He took the girls out on dates. The formula was rather simple: dinner at the fanciest restaurant in town followed by a walk around the city square in which he offered to buy his date a dessert like the proper gentleman his mother raised him to be. Despite the fact that Regulus had the entire process down to a science, the dates were always unsatisfactory. 

He was polite, of course. Opened the door, pulled out their chair, asked the appropriate level of questions to get to know his counterpart, but by the time the appetizers arrived, Regulus was on the verge of stabbing himself with the butter knife just to rouse himself from boredom. 

Regulus placed no blame on the girls. They were only doing what their families had raised them to do. Sit pretty, chew gracefully, agree with his opinions. All while wearing breakneck heels and a smile to boot. It was all terribly fucked up, but this was the world they lived in. 

The more he went on these dates, the more he realized that he didn’t want some pretty, docile wife. What he truly needed was someone who was willing to challenge him, to call him out on his bullshit, to argue with him when his own stubbornness prevented him from seeing reason. Regulus came to the horrible, earth-shattering realization that he probably wouldn’t find a woman like that on his mother’s list. 

As he walked back from another mind numbing date, Regulus grappled with this newfound dilemma. He didn’t want to endure another one of these disastrous dates. He didn’t want to sit through an entire meal making small talk. He definitely didn’t want to disappoint another girl by not kissing them at the end of the night. 

It wasn’t like any of them liked him anyways. Though they loved the idea of Regulus Black, he was quite certain that they wouldn’t afford the same affections to Reggie—the real and true version of himself. The one that Sirius often said Regulus kept in a neatly locked cage.

He wished he could be more like his brother. Sirius had always been the brave one. It was that infamous Gryffindor boldness that prompted his older brother to rebel against his family’s expectations. Instead of heeding to their mother’s ridiculous list, Sirius chose to date Remus in open defiance to Walburga’s orders. It resulted in him getting kicked out of 12 Grimmauld Place and burned off the family portrait, but Sirius didn’t seem to mind one bit.  

In a lot of ways, Regulus envied his brother. Sirius had the guts to stand up for himself. He wasn’t burdened by the crippling pressure of pleasing their mother. In all honesty, Reggie wondered if such a thing was even achievable. As he brooded, Regulus found himself on the shores of the Black Lake. His body had taken him here on autopilot. It was his only place of refuge in the castle. 

Regulus paced the rickety wooden dock. His mind was working so fast, so many thoughts spinning in his head, that it felt like he might work himself up to a fit. This has always been his problem. Sirius often said that he lived in his head too much. He frowned, trying and failing to get ahold of himself. For once, he wished he could just shut his brain off entirely.

Just then, Regulus felt a drop of water hit his head. He looked up and found dark, gray clouds hovering over the horizon. The stormcloud broke open and unleashed torrential rain all around him. Fucking fantastic. The world truly couldn’t give him a bloody break, could it? 

With a sigh, Regulus began making his way back. The ground was sodden underneath his feet, his boots sinking into the sand and dragging behind his black coat. The waves lapped violently across the shore as the wind lashed against the murky waters. Regulus was almost at the edge of the beach when he spotted you. 

A flash of movement from the corner of his eye. Regulus stopped dead in his tracks. There, at the mouth of the Black Lake, in the middle of the pouring rain, stood a girl with the most breathtaking smile he had ever seen. 

Regulus was fairly certain that you had History of Magic together. He sat behind you in class, passed by you in the halls, even reached for the same book in the forbidden section of the library once, but Reggie had never once seen that smile. The gravity of it threatened to knock the very breath from his lungs. 

There was something carefree about you. The way you spread your arms, tilted your head back, and laughed in the midst of the rain and thunder. Almost like you were welcoming the storm. 

It was only when your eyes locked that Regulus realized he was staring. You cocked your head at him, trailing your gaze from the curls plastered against his cheek to the nice button down and freshly pressed trousers that were now soaked from the rain, down to the shiny leather boots that were now digging into the sand. You seemed amused at the sight of him.

Ever the perfect gentleman, Regulus snapped out of his daze and jogged over to you. Without hesitation, he raised his coat over your head to shield you from the rain even though you were already both drenched. 

“What are you doing out in the rain?” Regulus asked, his voice full of genuine concern. “You’ll catch a cold.” 

You stepped out of the refuge of his expensive looking coat and held your hand out, catching droplets in your palm. “I don’t mind. I just…I just needed to feel the rain on my skin, that’s all.”

You supposed it must’ve seemed strange to him, but the rain always made you feel better. Lately, life had been just a little too overwhelming. There was so much pressure to do well in classes, to hang out with friends while balancing your clubs and sports, as well as making time to write back to your parents. When it all became a bit too much, you tended to come to the Black Lake for some sort of refuge. The rain was just an added bonus. 

If Regulus found your behavior bizarre, he didn’t say. Instead, he just smiled softly. “Well, you got your wish. It’s soaked out here.” 

“I know,” you responded with an enthusiastic nod. “It’s nice, isn’t it?” 

“Standing out in the pouring rain? On a beach where lightning can strike me down at any second? Yes, it’s absolutely splendid.”

Your mouth quirked in amusement. “No one’s telling you to stay out here.” You nodded towards the castle. “You’re more than welcome to take your brooding inside where it’s warm and dry. Not to mention, free of the dangers of lightning strikes, which are extremely rare by the way.” 

“With my luck, I might be the poor one in a million git who gets torched while getting insulted by a pretty girl.” 

“Did I insult you?’ you quipped back. “I hadn’t noticed.”

“You accused me of brooding.” 

“I didn’t accuse, I stated. Even the Wizengamot would have to rule that you were, in fact, brooding.” 

Regulus raised a brow. “What happened to innocent before proven guilty?” 

“Unfortunately, the evidence is overwhelming and the verdict is set. You, Regulus Black, have been sentenced for glaring at the Black Lake so menacingly that even the giant squid refuses to come to shore. Off to Azkaban you go.” 

“Do you promise to write me letters? Update me of how the world’s progressed without my dazzling presence?” 

“It would be my genuine pleasure.” 

Regulus chuckled at your dry humor. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d bantered like this with anyone, much less with a strange not-so-stranger. You sat down on the wet sand and patted the spot beside you with a grin.

“Why don’t you take a seat and tell me all about your troubles.” 

Beyond the bleak horizon, the spires of the castle peeked through the gray clouds. Regulus thought of the common room where his housemates would no doubt be gathered around the ornate fireplace for warmth. Knowing his friends, they’d probably be indulging in spiked hot chocolate and playing some childish drinking game. A few minutes ago, nothing appealed to him more, but now Regulus found himself choosing the violent rain and soggy sand. All because of you, his mystery girl.

You leaned back on your elbows and cocked your head at him. “What ails you, Mr. Black?” 

“That depends. How much do you bill per hour?” 

“Fortunately for you, I’m in a generous mood so I’ll throw in a free session. Consider it my pro-bono work.” 

“How kind of you,” Regulus said with a serious expression. “My brother’s been nagging me to see a mind healer for years. All that childhood trauma, you know.” 

A small smile tugged at your lips, revealing a set of dimples that he found rather charming. “I can’t tell if you’re being serious or not.” 

“My brother is Sirius. I’m Regulus, remember?” 

You snorted in a very unladylike manner, which only made Regulus grin. There was something so unapologetically you in your laugh that was absolutely endearing to him. Regulus smiled and knocked his shoulder against yours. 

You mimicked the action and smiled back at him. “All sarcasm aside, I was being genuine. If you want to talk about it, I’m here to listen.” 

"Do you often offer therapy sessions to complete strangers?"

"Only to surly Slytherins with sad eyes and pretty curls," you quipped back. "And we're not strangers. I sit behind you in potions. We're practically best mates."

"You think my curls are pretty?"

"Like a little cherub's. Are you quite sure you haven't escaped from the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel? You look like one of Michelangelo's angels. Except with way more scowling." Regulus grinned. He got the feeling that you always said whatever you wanted, whenever you wanted. It was refreshing. "There's a smile. See? Our session is already progressing."

"I think you might get more than you bargained for with me, I'm afraid."

You met the challenge in his words head on. "Try me."

“You were right. I’m definitely guilty of brooding.” 

“What happened?” 

Regulus hesitated for a moment. He had never been the type of person to be candid with his feelings, especially not with someone he barely knew. Usually, he just kept his thoughts to himself and ruminated on them in the privacy of his dorm until he drove himself mad by overthinking, but your presence brought him an unexplainable ease. For once in his life, Regulus chose not to question it. 

“I’ve had a long night,” he said, tucking his knees up to his chest. “I just got back from a date.” 

“It didn’t go well?” 

“It was…fine. It’s always fine. But it’s the same thing over and over again, just with a different girl.” 

“I wouldn’t have taken you for a playboy, Regulus Black.”

Regulus chuckled. “I’m not some unscrupulous rake, I assure you.” 

“Yes, that much is obvious from your use of the word unscrupulous.” You tucked your legs underneath you. “So why go on all of these dates if you find them so tedious?” 

“It’s my mother,” Regulus explained. “She has this list.” 

“A list?” 

“Yes, a list of girls that I’m to court. Noble, pureblooded, proper ladies of society that my mother has deemed worthy of marriage.” 

“You’re seventeen years old. Shouldn’t you be worrying about quidditch games and potions exams?” 

Regulus nodded. “Yes, one would think. But my family has always been different. Since my brother left, my parents have been obsessed with grooming me into becoming the perfect heir.” 

“How do you feel about that?” 

He sighed. “Stifled. Exhausted. Smothered. I can feel the weight of their expectations weighing me down every second of every day.” 

“I’m sorry, Regulus. That’s a terrible burden to carry.” 

Regulus shrugged. “Others have it worse.” 

“It doesn’t mean that your problem is any less heavy.” 

To Regulus, the acknowledgement felt oddly validating. Even though you knew nothing of his circumstance, there was wisdom in your words and you delivered it delicately, like you actually cared to hear his troubles. You were devoid of the judgment he'd grown accustomed to and he found that rather freeing.

“It’s just…sometimes I think that I’ll never be the perfect son. My brother, he’s always been the brave one. Classic Gryffindor,” he said with an eye roll. You chuckled, but stayed silent. It was obvious that Regulus had a myriad of thoughts to unpack tonight and you were more than happy to just listen. “Sirius has never cared what anyone thought about him, least of all our parents. I admire that about him, but I just don’t think I’m wired that way. I care too much.” 

“That’s not necessarily a bad thing,” you said softly. “Apathy is so common nowadays, finding someone who can admit that they care is refreshing. Though, I think it’s not without limits. You can’t please everyone. No matter what you do, someone is going to have something to complain about. You might as well be yourself.” 

“That’s exactly the problem,” Regulus pondered. “All of these girls on my mother's list, I think they like the idea of Regulus Black, but he’s an illusion. It isn’t the real me.” 

“Then who is the real you?” 

“I don’t know,” he said honestly. “I’m just Reggie. I like playing quidditch and reading depressing literature and memorizing obscure history facts. I hate messy rooms and orange juice and anything that crawls.”  

You smiled. “And what kind of girl does Reggie like?” 

“Someone witty. Someone funny. Someone who’ll argue with me. Someone who doesn’t just nod and agree with everything I say."

"So what you're saying is that you don't want a nice girl?"

Regulus shook his head. "No, I think I need someone who challenges me. Who sees me for who I am rather than what I represent. Don’t get me wrong, I’m sure the girls on my mother’s list are lovely, but I don’t think they’d actually like me if they knew who I really am.” 

“I don’t know, Reggie seems like a great guy. That Regulus bloke, on the other hand…” you scrunched your nose in disapproval. 

“Hey!” Regulus chided, “I’m pouring my heart out to you. That took a lot of courage, you know.” 

“You’re very brave, Reggie,” you said with a grin. “But you know what would be even braver?” 

Regulus squinted in the rain as you stood to your feet. Lightning crackled over the horizon, illuminating you with an ethereal silver glow. You held out your hand to him. “Come dance with me.” 

“Deathly afraid of being struck by lightning, remember?” 

“Sorry, what?” You asked as you shimmied around him. It wasn’t graceful by any means. It was the goofiest thing he’d ever seen and yet he’d never been so enthralled. You danced without a care in the world and it made him genuinely laugh. “I can’t hear you over all the fun I’m having.” 

"This is ridiculous," he said over the roaring thunder.

You shrugged. "Perhaps. But everyone's allowed to be a little ridiculous sometimes. Besides, I was asking Reggie not Regulus."

“Are you really trying to peer pressure me into dancing with you?” 

“That depends,” you replied with a cheeky smile. “Is it working?” 

Regulus conceded with a sigh and leapt to his feet. The youngest Black brother bowed like a proper gentleman. “May I have this dance, my lady?"

“You may, good sir.” 

You grinned up at him as he took you by the waist and waltzed with you across the sand. Surprisingly, Regulus let you take the lead. He chuckled when you stepped on his toes and laughed even harder when you tried to twirl him. Towering a good foot over you, Regulus had to fully crouch for the maneuver to work. 

Finally, you gave up the formality and just spun around in dizzying circles. There was absolutely no rhyme or rhythm to it. Just two idiots dancing in the rain with the biggest smiles on their faces. 

Your coordination, or lack thereof, caused you to almost faceplant into the sand. Regulus yelped as you took him down with you. By the time you recovered from the laughing fit, the two of you were red-faced, out of breath, and laying side by side along the shore. He turned over to you and brushed a stray strand of hair behind your ear. 

“That was the most fun I’ve had in years.” 

“See? There’s more to life than just being moody and melancholic.” 

“So this mystery girl of mine keeps reminding me,” Regulus said with a smile. “You never told me your name, by the way.” 

“Wow, you don’t even know my name? I’m offended, Reggie. We’ve only been in classes together since fifth year.” 

“I—we’ve never been introduced—” 

You broke out into a smile and giggled. You thought it was cute that Reggie was so easily flustered. “I’m just kidding, Reggie.” 

He sighed in relief as you stuck out your hand. “Y/N. My name is Y/N.” 

Regulus slipped his hand into yours. He cocked his head, studying your eyes and your smile and those cute little dimples. 

Y/N. The last name on his mother’s list. The one he saved for last because he didn’t know who she was. 

The French had a saying—le coup de foudre. The infamous phrase translated to a bolt of lightning or love at first sight. Regulus had long dismissed it as flowery prose, but thanks to his mystery girl, he started to think that maybe the Parisians were onto something because meeting you tonight felt preordained. A date with fate. Like a bolt of lightning streaking through his dark, endless skies.

“It’s nice to meet you, Y/N.” 

You grinned. “It’s nice to meet you, Reggie.” 

Regulus smiled and laced your fingers together. He was frozen, it was raining, and he was fairly certain that you were both probably going to catch a cold, but he didn’t care. In that moment, as he stared up at the sky, blinking back the rain, and intertwining his fingers with yours, Regulus had never felt more content. 

So no, Regulus did not believe in love at first sight, but love at second, third, and even fourth glance? He smiled a little as he gazed back at you, letting his gaze linger as he drank in that infectious laugh and sunny grin. 

You made him think that maybe, just maybe, a girl like you could convert a skeptic like him into a devout believer.

[iamgonnagetyouback]

hello there! i absolutely adore how you wrote for regulus and so if youre willing, I’d like to request for him with a reader who liked to collect things people consider weird (bug wings, bones found in the forest, etc) and she gives the prettiest/shiniest to him

can you also include her and pandora (+ the rest of the skittles) being friends? like reader and dory are both similar aka whimsy

idk something about reggie makes me want to give him all the weird pretty things in the world. Thank yiu and have a wonderful morning/evning/night!!

I FOUND THIS AND THOUGHT OF YOU.⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ㅤ ㅤ●ㅤㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤ R. BLACK

SUMMARY ৎ୭ you’ve always loved collecting weird little things, and regulus black has always been your favorite person to give them to. you’re not really sure when it started, but now it’s a habit

WARNINGS ಇ. fluff— lots and lots of it, whimsical!reader A/N ಇ. this idea was so adorable!! ty for the sweet words too ♡

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ᡣ𐭩 words.ᐟ 1,008

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ��� ౨ৎㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

You had always been a collector of strange things.

Shiny beetle wings, hollow bird bones, stones shaped like hearts, broken glass smoothed down by the river. Anything that made other people wrinkle their noses or laugh unkindly, you pocketed with a smile.

Pandora understood, of course. She tucked fallen feathers behind her ear and pressed petals into the pages of her books until they dried and crumbled. Dorcas mostly shook her head and called you both odd little fairies, but there was affection in it.

Regulus… Regulus was different.

He never laughed. Never looked at you like you were ridiculous or childish. When you first offered him a twisted bit of silver wire you had found tangled in the roots of the Whomping Willow — dangerous, beautiful — he had only held it in his palm and said quietly, “Thank you.”

And now it had become a thing.

A ritual.

You finding something strange and lovely. Him accepting it.

It happened again on a lazy Sunday afternoon.

The group had gathered under the sprawling oak tree near the lake, sprawled in the grass. Dorcas and Marlene were throwing an apple back and forth between them. Barty and Evan were arguing loudly about something neither probably remembered. Pandora had fallen asleep on your lap, her hair a tangle of flowers and twigs.

And you… you had found something.

It was a fragment of a bird’s nest, woven with glinting scraps of metal and bits of blue thread, abandoned and half-crushed.

You turned it over in your hands, feeling the brittle, stubborn strength of it. It was beautiful in a way most people wouldn't bother to see.

You glanced at Regulus.

He was sitting cross-legged a little apart from the others, sketching absentmindedly in the margin of his Potions notes, silver eyes flickering between the page and the lake.

Quietly, you disentangled yourself from Pandora and padded over.

You didn’t say anything at first. You simply sat down beside him, close enough that your knees brushed. He looked up, one eyebrow lifting in that careful, curious way he had reserved only for you and Pandora.

You held out the nest.

“I found this,” you said. “Thought you might like it.”

Regulus didn’t speak immediately. He closed his notebook slowly, set it aside, and took the offering from your hands with an almost reverent touch.

His fingers brushed yours. You pretended not to notice how your breath caught.

“This is…” he began, then stopped. He turned the nest over carefully, the faintest smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “It’s strange.”

“Strange,” you repeated, a little breathless. “But good-strange?”

He looked at you properly then, the way he always did — like he was memorizing you.

“Always good-strange,” he said.

You ducked your head, feeling your cheeks heat. Picked a blade of grass and twisted it between your fingers.

For a few minutes, you sat there in comfortable silence, watching the lake shift and glitter under the pale sky.

Then, softly, Regulus said, “You don’t have to keep giving me things.”

You frowned slightly. “I want to.”

He studied you for a moment longer, the bird’s nest cradled carefully in his lap.

“Why?” he asked.

You shrugged, voice light. “You seem like you need them more than I do.”

He huffed a soft laugh under his breath, almost disbelieving. "I don't even know what to do with half of them."

"You don't have to do anything with them," you said simply. "Just keep them."

Regulus didn't reply right away. He only reached out, slow and tentative, and tucked a stray leaf out of your hair, his fingertips lingering just a little longer than necessary against your temple.

"I do keep them," he said finally, voice low and sure. "All of them."

Your heart cracked a little at that. In a good way.

"You do?" you whispered.

He nodded once.

"In a box under my bed," he admitted. "Don't tell the others. Evan would never let me hear the end of it."

You smiled so wide it hurt. "Your secret’s safe with me."

He leaned in slightly, like he might say something else — something heavier — but Barty chose that exact moment to shout across the lawn.

"Oi, Black! Quit flirting and come help me beat Evan's arse at chess!"

Regulus didn't look away from you. His thumb brushed your knuckles where your hands still rested lightly between you.

“Later,” he said quietly, a promise tucked into the word.

Then he stood, pocketing the bird’s nest with the same care he might have given a pocket watch or a precious letter, and walked away without a backward glance.

You sat there for a long moment, heart tumbling over itself, the air still shimmering where he had touched you.

Later, he had said.

You thought maybe — just maybe — you would be patient for him.

After all, you had all the time in the world. And you had so many more strange, beautiful things left to find.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ౨ৎㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“You’re smiling,” Marlene accused loudly as they trudged up the castle steps.

Regulus shot her a cool look. “I am not.”

“Oh, you absolutely are.” Dorcas grinned, her face still smudged with mud from earlier. “I’ve never seen you smile that much in one day. Not even when Evan fell into the lake last month.”

“That was different,” Regulus said primly. “That was amusing.”

“That’s it,” Barty said, throwing an arm around Evan’s shoulders dramatically. “She’s bewitched him. She’s a menace. Look at him — carrying around bird nests like a lovesick magpie.”

“He’s in love,” Pandora sang, twirling a stick like a wand.

You just laughed, skipping a step ahead of them, your pockets jingling with collected bits of the day — a crow’s feather, a sea-glass shard, a handful of smooth acorns.

Regulus watched you, his hand curled protectively around the nest you had given him.

Maybe he was a lovesick magpie. Maybe he didn’t care.

You were worth it.

You were worth everything.

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

[empress-simps]

Line That Leads To You

Pairing: Sirius Black x Fem! Reader AU: Soulmate AU CW: Language, Genre: Angst with a happy ending (don't worry guys) Summary: You make Sirius realize that having a soulmate isn’t all that bad— that he too, will have his happily ever after.

Note: One of my favorite tropes to write, soulmate AUs! Sirius just needs love and affirmation. I love writing for this! Enjoy! Picture is from pinterest, credits to the owner!

You know, Sirius never really believed in those pesky soulmates stuff. It irks him to no end, and makes his head hurt.

The topic makes him snappy, bitter, and it leaves him feeling angry. To whom? The world— the one who’s responsible for everything that has to do with soulmates. He thinks it is a bunch of bollocks. It’s a pathetic little concept that everyone seems to be too invested in.

Sirius would be very much happy to tell you it doesn’t really end with a happily-ever-after.

“I’m telling you, Prongs. It’s just a bunch of crap.” Sirius tells James one time at the drawing room in the Potter Manor. James shakes his head, disagreeing with his best mate.

“It isn’t always like Walburga and Orion, Pads.” James gently tells him, eyes swimming with empathy for Sirius. “Just look at me, Lily and I are together, finally.” Sirius can’t help but scoff, shaking his head in a disagreeing manner.

“That’s because you were already pathetically in love with her before you even knew she was the one, Prongs. Same thing for Lily, but she was quite stubborn trying to deny what she felt about you. You guys are actually made for each other.” James lets out a laugh, the memories resurfacing making a love-struck smile appear on his face (Sirius gave him a disgusted look)

“That’s what soulmates are, Pads. You’re supposed to complete each other, balance the other person out” He pursed his lips and sighed, there’s no way Prongs could understand his opinion on the matter.

Complete each other, huh?

Then can someone give him a reasonable excuse on why his parents broke each other? One descended into madness; the other doesn’t really seem to care as long as the noble house of Black lineage will continue.

Sirius bites his bottom lip, deep in thought as he stares at his pinky, willing the connection to be seen; a red string that was tied into a bow that leads to Merlin-knows-where. It serves as a connection; the string that he and only his soulmate can see whenever they want. He tugs on it curiously, awaiting any reaction with bated breath. He almost scrambled away when he felt the other end also tug it. Sirius was utterly terrified, a shiver crawled up to his system, it’s foreign feeling for the Black’s eldest son. It made everything feel too real. A fact that he desperately tries to deny.

That night, before they returned to Hogwarts as sixth year students was the last time he ever willed to see the annoying little string in his pinky, not caring if his supposed other half was finding him or already found him.

Maybe it had to do with his twisted upbringing. He saw how his father cut the string tying him to their mother, the purple string that bound them together turning gray and withering away.

He saw how Regulus flinched, no one should’ve seen a scene like that, but they did. Someone severing their connection to someone who should’ve been with them through better or for worse, the one that fate intended for them. Their life got worse just after that, forcing him to flee and leave his younger brother behind at the deranged hands of Walburga Black.

“You should eat more, Reggie.” You turned towards the quiet and reserved Slytherin, pushing his plate closer to him, which made him wince. “I am quite full.” You raised a brow “None sense, all you did was sip pumpkin juice so you better do as I say or I’ll tell Evan and Junior.”

“Do you know that you boss people around quite well?” He grumbles, shoving a few spoonsful of dinner in his mouth as you hummed in approval, cracking a small smile. “I was told.” Your eyes flickered to the Gryffindor table, it seemed to gravitate you, pulling you in.

Looking down at your pinky, you willed the string to be visible to you. Seeing the red string attached to Sirius Black made your stomach churn; was it butterflies? Unease? You don’t particularly know, having mixed reactions to the string that leads to your other half.

You’ve known for over a year now, keeping it to yourself as you quickly figured out that he wants nothing to do with his soulmate.

“Reggie! Reggie!”

You exclaimed, slapping the poor boy’s arm as he was currently staying in the L/n Manor. He looked in your direction, quite annoyed, he was interrupted reading his book. “I’m reading, Y/n. You know, you should too. It’ll do you some good.” He sassed, trying to find which part he stopped reading. “My soulmate! They tugged the string!” You gushed, “They must be looking for me too, right?” You asked no one in particular, you can still feel the tingles you felt, how your heartbeat picked up, and how you felt like you were in could nine.

Quite the opposite from what Sirius felt, huh?

You never told him, never planned to. It was quite clear what his views are on the concept of soulmates when you saw him snogging different girls every week. It wrecked you; you swore you felt your heart stop beating every time you see him loving a girl other than you even just for a week. It sounds stupid and all, but you would give up everything just to know what it feels like; how he will look at you with love and adoration in his eyes, how his touch and kisses would linger on your body, and how his voice would sound like as his breath fans in your ear, whispering promises of love.

You looked at him from the Slytherin table; so close yet so far.

Regulus noticed, the all too familiar broken look in your face. His heart hurts for you, even if you do not tell him, he already knows. Seeing his brother’s indifference, Regulus’s gaze hardened. How could he have the guts to do this to his soulmate?

The memory of their mother's despair, the way she withered away after their father severed the bond, was etched into his mind. Regulus does not wish for anyone to feel that way, he does not wish upon it even in his worst enemies.

It was a pain no one should endure, a lesson that should have been learned.

Yet there sat his brother, laughing with his friends and willfully ignoring the pulls of his heart. The person who held the other end of this unseen tether, was beside Regulus. Your soul ached as you watched your soulmate. It was a betrayal of the heart's deepest connection, and it stirred a tempest of fury within Regulus that he struggled to contain.

“My brother is foolish. Eat.” He states, pushing your food and placing the cornbread on his plate to yours. She cracks a smile, chuckling. “Alright, Reggie. You’re lucky I love you.” You pat his curls, proceeding to eat the bread, smiling a little. Reggie never really shares his food with anyone, except for you. You’re the only exception.

“Padfoot.” Remus starts, looking out of the window as Sirius lays down lazily in his bed, looking at nothing.

“What, Moons?”

“If I say that I have an inkling on who your soulmate is, would you… look for them?” Remus asked cautiously. Peter and James perked up, eyes wide with shock. How could Remus possibly guess who his soulmate is? Unless… They’re also in Hogwarts?

“Don’t start with that crap, Moony.” Sirius sat up; a scowl displayed in his features as his grey eyes turned stormy.

“Don’t you even feel the slightest amount of guilt in your system as you snog other girls?” Remus frowned.

Sirius’s scowl deepened, his hands clenching into fists. “Guilt? For what, Moony? For not wanting to be chained down by some ancient magic?” His voice was a low growl, barely containing the emotions that surged within him. “I won’t be dictated by fate. I make my own choices, and I refuse to be bound by a bond I never asked for.”

Remus’s expression softened, the lines of concern etching deeper into his face. “It’s not about being chained, Pads. It’s about finding someone who complements you, who understands you in ways no one else can.” He paused, his gaze steady and piercing. “You’ve seen what happens when that bond is severed. You’ve seen the pain it causes. Is that what you want for yourself? For your soulmate who’s probably hurting somewhere?”

Sirius looks down, biting his lip and playing with the rings on his fingers. “I don’t plan on severing our bond, Moons- “

“Then what the fuck are you doing?” Remus spat, Sirius flinched, looking at anything but them. He knew deep down that Remus was right. He can’t deny he also wants to look for his soulmate. The only thing that was holding him back is that he’s scared. What if your story would end similarly like how Walburga and Orion’s did? Dread fills his system as he reflects on how he slowly realized he’s becoming like his father. Peter and James exchanged a glance, the weight of the conversation settling heavily upon them.

“I’m scared,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “Scared of finding her… Scared of repeating the same mistakes.” He paused, his gaze lifting to meet Remus’s. “But you’re right. I can’t keep running from this. It’s not fair to them, and it’s not fair to me.”

James offered a supportive smile, feeling happy for his friend. Sirius stood up, his posture straightening as if shedding the weight of his fears. “I’ll do it. I’ll find her,” he declared, his voice steady. “I owe it to both of us to at least try.”

“That’s our Padfoot.” Remus breathes a sigh of relief as Peter nods encouragingly at Sirius.

The next daylight soon came. Sirius gulps, looking around the great hall, feeling quite overwhelmed at the number of students entering for breakfast, eating, or chatting amongst themselves. For the first time in a long time, he willed the red string of fate to reappear within his vision.

Ah, there it was. The red string connected to someone from the Slytherin table. Sirius felt his heart drop, seeing the end of the string connected to your pinky. “Y/n?” The name left his lips in a hushed awe, his heart skipping a beat as he saw the string connected to your pinky. You, who laughed with such ease beside Regulus, were the missing piece.

Whether it was some brotherly instinct, Regulus looked at him, shooting him a warning stare as if to say: ‘If you hurt her, you’ll never see the light of day ever again.’

Remus raised his eyebrows in surprise, knowing eyes set on his friend. “Found her, Pads?”

“Yeah. Found her, Moony.”

“Then what are you waiting for?” James chimed in, a grin spreading across his face as Peter silently cheers him on. “Go on, before you lose your nerve.”

Sirius took a deep breath, trying to shake off the weight of Regulus’s protective stare. It was a silent challenge, a vow to keep your heart safe from his brother. With a nod of acknowledgment, Sirius stepped forward, crossing the small distance between the Gryffindor table and Slytherin.

“Y/n,” he said, standing before you, the red string pulsing with a life of its own.

You stilled, slowly looking in his direction. Eyes wide with surprise, searched his for a moment before softening. “I was wondering when you’d come around,” you teared up, making Sirius’ heart ache.

Sirius extended his hand, the red string wrapping around both your destinies. “Let’s talk, yeah?”

And in that moment, as your fingers intertwined, Sirius knew that whatever the future held, he had made the right choice. For in finding you, he had found a new path that began to unravel, one filled with hope and courage. The buzz of Great Hall continued, but both of them felt time still, feeling the bond weave into their souls deeper.

Sirius’s and Y/n’s story had its flaws, but it was theirs, uniquely woven by the red strings of fate.

[nixotene]

consider this: the hargreeves siblings numbers are based on how easy to control they are.

Luther is the most easy to control. He always wants to appease Reginald and do what he can to complete the mission and be daddy’s special boy.

Diego is rebellious, but in the sense that acts out for attention from his abusive parental figure. So Reginald puts what he wants to close to his reach, l knowing full well he will always be “number two.” I mean, at the end of the day, Diego was out kicking ass and being a “hero” until the end, just like Reggie trained him to be.

Allison tends to place her own needs first. Which makes sense since her power literally allows her to have whatever she wants when she wants. Reginald had to make things feel like they were “her” idea and use mind games. She didn’t care about her number, but she didn’t care about going against Reginald either. She stayed in her lane.

Klaus is when we start getting a bit harder to control, but not in a way that would affect Reginald’s “dignity”. He ran to drug use in order to suppress his abilities. He constantly was acting out and getting into trouble. But he didn’t act out very obvious ways to Reggie (ie: standing up to him verbally and publicly).

Now, Five. He is stubborn and believes himself to always be in the right. He’s a lot like Reggie, in a way. Which is probably why Reggie did not like him until they met in s2 and Five was mentally around the same age as him. They felt like equals, when before, Reginald saw Five as a child when Five did not see himself that way.

Ben was literally killed by Reginald because he did not follow his instructions. To a mission he did not want to go on. Ben constantly shows how he does not like using his powers (like Klaus) and therefore would be hard to force to train and go on missions.

Viktor. Oh, Viktor. His hard to control nature, high emotions (mostly due to his abuse), mixed with his world ending power level is not a force to be reckoned with. So instead Reggie decided he wasn’t worth the trouble. We see Viktor’s hard to control nature through the montage of Vanya/Viktor as a child throwing nanny after nanny around the house like a rag doll. And breaking the wine glasses with enough power to cut Reggie when he did try training.

Or it could be random because Reginald numbered them since birth. Who knows.

[dreamingumbrellas]

I think Five choosing not to have a ‘real’ name is such an underrated and fascinating aspect of his character. Because let’s look at the possible reasons behind it.

(technically applicable only to the comics, I think the show canon is that Five left before he could be given a name, even though that doesn’t make any sense but whatever-)

Potential reasons for Five not wanting a regular name:

1. Five is stubborn (obviously) and refused a name to spite Reggie. The numbers were a method of dehumanizing the kids—they weren’t ‘just children’ they were tools, soldiers. Five took away this power from Reginald by deciding no, Five is my name. It’s just as real a name as anything else and it doesn’t make me less of a person.

2. Solidarity with his siblings. Five’s character (pre character assassination) was centered around his family. He valued his siblings above everything else. He wanted to keep the name ‘Five’ because it reminded him of the family he was a part of. In a way, he never wanted to forget who he really was.

3. He saw himself as something less than human. Five is arguably the best of his siblings at being used as a weapon/soldier. He didn’t form much of an identity out of the the academy and the things he was trained for (even after he ran away, he was used the same way by the commission). He’s expressed regret and self-hatred for the things he does, but it’s clear he feels that this is his identity. Even after being given a shot at a normal life he chose to join the CIA. Five never really thought of himself as human. He was only ever a tool.

[reginaldqueribundus]

so my fiancee is looking at getting a pygmy goat named Wilbur

so some background if you did not know. she had two goats raised from babies: Fabio and Jenkins. Jenkins was a realy asshole who would beat the shit out of his mom and Fabio but then he got brain damage and became very nice and Fabio started beating the shit out of him. i had to escort him into the barn every night like a red carpet celebrity because Fabio's fat ass would lie in wait to ambush him and slam him into the wall.

tragically jenky passed away just under 2 years ago and Fabio was inconsolable. couldn't even let him out of the barn for long because he would climb over the fence (and nearly break his neck doing so, because he is 11 years old and very fat) or just pace around crying. he is a herd animal after all.

so that was how we ended up with Oedipus, our llama. he came by his name honestly, his previous owners sold him to us for a song because he wouldn't stop trying to fuck his mom and kill his dad. he bonded with Fabs pretty quickly and hey, llamas make excellent guard animals.

Fabio, for his part, now that he had a companion, albeit a very strange-looking one twice his height, finally calmed the fuck down and we could stop worrying. for a while anyway.

see Eddie was used to guarding an entire herd. with a herd of one, well, all that energy had to go somewhere and soon he was haranguing Fabs, trying to herd his fat ass away from threats that didn't exist. this might have been fine if Fabs was a less ornery, much smaller goat. but woe, he is as stubborn as the third hippo on noah's gangplank and nearly as heavy, and his daily itinerary consists of eating all the food he can reach and then lying down in the sun for 6 hours. so before he died of a heart attack or got all the fur chewed off his ass. we decided it was time to expand the herd again

and that is how Reginald came into our lives. Reginald is an alpaca, a bit older than Eddie (but not nearly as old as Fabio), and has apparently won awards, though you would never know it from looking at him. unlike most of our beasties he is not a rescue, he just looks like he needs rescuing. this whiny, oddly spiderlike thing with the bangs of Sam the Sheepdog from Looney Tunes, who skitters everywhere like he's wearing wet socks, emitting the pitiful mewling sounds of a baby that is somehow 100 years old. this poor bastard had never seen a goat in his life, and was suddenly plunked onto an acreage with one, and its overprotective guardian who was much bigger than him, and would violently tackle him every time he tried to sound the alarm about the, y'know, smelly horned alien thing constantly staring at him. I've said this before but imagine you moved into a new apartment, but your roommate is a 6'10" pro wrestler, and then a fucking gray alien walks out of the other bedroom. and you go “jesus christ what the fuck is that??” and the wrestler says “that is our ROOMMATE and you will treat him with RESPECT” and starts beating the shit out of you.

so this was poor Reggie's life for the first month or so: squealing like Geddy Lee with his scrotum caught in a laundry mangle, while a furious llama chases him in figure eights around the hay bales and I completely fail to blast Yakety Sax from a loudspeaker. and Fabio was left to his own devices, Reggie having removed all of Eddie's frustration and hostility in the same way a lint roller removes pet hair from a garment, by absorbing it all onto himself.

they eventually reached an understanding, whereby Eddie only chases Reggie down and tries to bite his ass if they run out of water, and Reggie casually steals Eddie's food while Eddie stands around spitting and groaning and acting very offended while not actually doing anything about it. ok. granted, neither of them will enter the barn but they're happy and healthy and if a coyote shows up the two of them will kick it to death. even if their dumb asses insist on sitting next to the hay bales and getting covered in snow rather than go in the nice shelter we built. it's fun coming home from work and seeing them over there, staring at me like two white boomer women trying to figure out if I'm shoplifting.

yet. this was not the only change in Eddie's attitude towards Fabio. he caught FEELINGS. feelings of a ROMANTICAL sort. feelings which he then attempted to CONSUMMATE. SEXUALLY. until we had to SPRAY HIM WITH THE HOSE to make him STOP. whereupon Fabio calmly took a SHIT. (Fabs was remarkably unbothered by this entire ordeal, but 300 lbs of horned up llama is a lot to ask of an elderly goat's knee joints.) Fortunately the sexual component of their relationship has ended since Eddie's balls have been removed, but castration has done nothing to lessen his devotion to his much shorter, older, fatter boyfriend. it's like I have an olympic weightlifter living in my yard, and he is dating Danny DeVito. and together, they are bullying… Michael Cera.

yes. Reginald has Michael Cera energy. he looks like Jake Paul got caught in a hurricane while wearing a fur coat, but he skitters around the yard muttering to himself while his roommate's obese geriatric boytoy gleefully oppresses him at every opportunity, knowing Reginald won't dare retaliate because the big fluffy simp will come gallumphing over, ears long lost to frostbite two owners ago but the stubs still folded straight back, and kick his ass. banished he is, to the far side of the hay bale whilst Oedipus fawns over his gassy, surly trophy husband, until Fabio decides he wants to eat hay from the other side of the bale now, whereupon Reggie slinks away to a safe distance as if there's an invisible forcefield. sometimes Fabio will just trot straight at him, gleefully tossing his horns as if to say "hey I'm just moving my head and if you get caught on these things it's not MY fault”. wielding his diplomatic immunity like a club.

and now. now we have Wilbur joining our family. Wilbur is a pygmy goat, 1/4 Fabio's size and only 2 years old. perhaps Reggie will finally share his space with someone who doesn't treat him with disgust and contempt. sure, I'd have to live in a world where we bought an emotional support goat for our other goat's emotional support llama's emotional support alpaca, which is starting to sound like that poem about the old woman swallowing a fly. but maybe Reginald will get himself a young twink boyfriend. Danny DeVito, say hello to Timothee Chalamet. then again maybe not. I honestly can't decide which would be funnier: Reginald getting his own goat boyfriend who is the polar opposite of Fabio in every way, or Oedipus triumphantly adding another goat to his harem and Reginald is condemned forever to nonstop workplace harassment by pointy little gnomes who gleefully threaten him with sharp objects, while Eddie looms menacingly behind them.

[ghostlymakercat]

So hey just a thought but I know a lot of y'all usually write that James is usually the first one apologizing after an arguement because Reggie is either too embarrassed or stubborn to apologize first but hear me out, Regulus always apologizing first because he's afraid that they will leave, in a sence that he starts to over think every single thing that was said in that argument thank you

[justkending]

Mr. & Mrs. Hunt (Chapter 6/7)

Mini-Series Summary: Two of the most stubborn people in the group partnered together for an undercover mission are also the two people with the most hatred for each other, so what could go wrong? Or is it, what COULDN’T go wrong?…

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger Reader (Enemies to Lovers) (Fake Marriage Trope)

Word Count: 3300+

A/N: I have only read through this once, but I plan on revising it this afternoon, so please excuse any mistakes! The next chapter will be the last, and I'm so glad you guys have enjoyed it up to this point :) You all are the best! (Also, I tried fixing as many of the tags as I could, but if it's still acting weird, please message me or send an ask!)

_________

Chapter 6:

“Shit, you have a mean right hook, but you kinda have to hit the target for it to have the impact you want!” I pant as I move just seconds before Bethanne makes contact with the wall behind me. “You learn that in pilates? Maybe I should take it up.” 

Reg let out a frustrated grunt from the room over where Bucky was now ducking and weaving out of angry, calculated swings. 

In assessing my opponent's fighting patterns, I sense Bethanne going in for another swing. Grabbing the picture frame off the wall, I bash it into her head, where she teeters and falls back, discombobulated enough for me to move to help Bucky.

“I should have known better than to trust you two,” Reggie grunts as he gets a slight jump on Bucky, shouldering him and taking him to the ground. “Especially you’re bitch of a fake wife-”

I go to handle the comment for myself and help Bucky, but something about the slur triggers him to handle the situation on his own, and the next thing I know, he’s now on top of Reggie and twisting his arms in a way that causes a wale in pain to follow. 

“That’s not how you speak about a lady,” he grits through his teeth and winds back to swing. 

At the same moment, with my attention elsewhere, Bethanne comes from behind me with a piece of glass from the picture frame -that didn’t do the job I’d hoped- and slices deeply in the back of my arm, getting a scream and hiss from me. 

She’s seething when I turn around, her own hand dripping blood on their pristine white carpet from the clamp she has on it, ready to give another slash when the opportunity presents itself. 

I hear Bucky shout my name, distracted by my injury, and then catch a glimpse of the tussle that breaks back out between the two men. One problem at a time. 

Holding the back of my arm, feeling the blood leave my body faster than I expected, I twist my head to the side at the blonde. I learned the intimidation tactic from Wanda, and when I say it works, it works…

Bethanne’s crass smile falls, and she is smart enough to take a few steps back. 

“I’m not a gentleman, so I won’t hold my tongue, bitch,” I add emphasis on the name and start walking to her with my head down and eyes glaring at her. Instantly, she turns on her heel and runs to another room, where I pick up my speed and follow her. 

I get my foot in between the doorframe before she has the chance to shut it, and dear God, I wish I had my Doc Martens right now to kick the damn thing down. I shove my shoulder into it, and she stumbles back for a lamp in the bedroom we were in now. 

Not well calculated, she throws a small one, and I dodge it as it slams into the door behind me. 

“Come on, Bethanne. All those sole cycles and bare classes, and you don’t want to see if those muscles work? Throw a hit like a woman. Let’s make this more interesting,” I move to a fighting stance and ignore the sting on my arm, knowing I have fleeting moments of adrenaline before the blood loss catches up. 

“You’re just mad you got caught,” she spits out, and I mean literally spits out. The saliva would have hit my foot if she wasn’t such a sissy. “You think we didn’t catch on from the second bug you destroyed? Pretty fucking obvious if you ask me.” 

I could hear more pieces of furniture breaking off in the other room and realized that maybe this chit-chat needed to end. 

“Sure. Let’s go with you guys figuring it out sooner. If that makes you feel better about all this,” I shrug, rolling my eyes and stepping in to move this party along. 

____________

The night before. Bucky’s POV:

Due to the wire in the bathroom, which neither Y/N nor I wanted to deal with, I had to shift my nighttime bathroom routine to the master’s. 

Like any normal master bath, there were two sinks, and I stationed myself at the one Y/N hadn’t. For the first time since coming to this place, we actually felt like a couple as we both got situated on our side of the counter and started doing our nightly regime. 

“How intense of a wire do you think it is?” she asked quietly after washing her face and dapping the water off her skin with a clean towel. 

The doors to the bathroom and her room were both closed, creating a barrier to the others. 

“I think we’re safe to talk in here,” I answered, rinsing my toothbrush I’d just used and throwing it into the travel bag I had. 

“Ok, so I can ask freely, how much longer do you think this mission is going to take?” she sighs, opening the cabinet in front of her, taking out three cosmetic vials, and putting them in a practiced order in front of her. 

“Huh?” I let slip, and she turned to me with furrowed eyebrows. 

“Huh, what?” 

I shake out of my disbelief and look at her clean and noticeably smooth face. A subtle scar next to her eyebrow being the only form of imperfection by societal rules, but I wouldn’t call it that. 

“I didn’t think you were a,” I paused, not sure what to call what I was seeing. I just saw her as someone who would splash some water on her face at the night's end and call it a day. Then again, I didn’t know enough about face creams and serums I’ve seen Nat and Wanda use. 

“A clean person?” she finishes my sentence with a harsh laugh as she brings out a spray bottle with a maroon liquid in it from another cabinet, spritz her face three times and pats it in with her hand. 

“Don’t think that’s the word I was looking for,” I shake my head, running a hand through my hair and fidgeting as I feel her gaze shift to me. 

“Not a face washer and 20 ageless serums kind of guy?” she hums, rubbing a green goop in her hands before all over your face. “Well, not all of us are aging at the rate of paint drying. Some of us have to put in effort to look this good.” 

I smirk at that because I don’t think she realizes what she just said. 

“You say I’m effortlessly handsome?” I grin, turning and resting my back on the counter as I watch her. 

She can’t seem to help her own smile and bites her lip as she fans her face, grabbing another small dropper bottle. 

“You know what? Don’t even try and pretend you don’t know you’re a pretty face,” she blushes and tries to backtrack. “God. Can you believe the difference this conversation would have been just two hours ago? And now I’m here calling you pretty.” 

“I’m not complaining.” The grin on my face hurts with how authentic it is. “And if it makes you feel any better, I think Reggie would steal you away as his wife if I weren’t already attached to you.” 

“Ah, yes. The testosterone battle that took place tonight. Glad you brought that up,” she nods, placing the finished bottles back in the cabinet and adding the last serum to her face. Her skin had a nice glow after the magic treatments. “I knew men lay their claim, but you seemed more intense than I’d imagined you’d be about that kind of stuff.”

“He was undressing you with his eyes,” I said sternly, compared to the easy-going tone we had stuck to. “He needed to be set straight acting like that.” My arms crossed as I watched her unbothered by the conversation piece.

“And you, acting like a lion ready to bite the head off of him while trying to get on their good side, was the way to counter that behavior?” 

“I wasn’t that intimidating.”

“You’re James Buchanan Barnes. You don’t have to put on an act to be intimidating. Therefore, when you put on any protective act, the intimidation act just multiplies.” She deadpans to me. 

Ok, maybe she was right… I was a little more invasive into her space this evening, but it was to prove a point. 

“I was doing my job,” I shrug, stepping closer, picking up her skincare bottle, and examining it. 

“You played the annoyed and jealous husband very well. I’ll make sure your nomination for a Tony Award is submitted.” 

I shake my head, handing her the bottle she places precisely in the cabinet. 

“Are you a neat freak?” I ask, and she turns to me, pulling her hair out of the ponytail she had put in to wash her face. 

“I’m not anal if that’s what you think? I prefer things to be organized where it’s helpful.” 

“I’m pretty sure that’s what a neat freak would say…”

“Says the man who organized the spices alphabetically and sorts the coffee pods by color.” She tidies her space, wiping any water with a washcloth, and turns out of the room, flipping the light switch with me still in there. 

“When you’re cooking, it makes things easier to find. That’s just common sense. And the color thing? Well, it’s aesthetically pleasing,” I debate, following her on her heel. 

“Sure thing, neat freak…” she laughs, going to her side of the bed and getting her nightstand prepared for the night. 

I watch her, and she doesn’t seem to mind as I silently catalog her ritual. When she finally gets things settled and looks at me, waiting for a reason for why I’m still in her room, I stumble over my words. 

“You’re question earlier.” Considering the life mic in the room across the hall, I have to be careful in choosing my words. “Maybe this suburban life isn’t as bad as we thought it was. It is a nice break from our former day-to-day.”

She nods, pulling back the covers of her bed and rubs lotion from her bedside into her palms. 

“There are some aspects I’ve come to like,” she smiles genuinely. 

“Agreed.”

____________

Present Time

In seconds, Bethanne was unconscious and lying on the ground with a curtain cord binding her on the ground. She’d be occupied enough for me to help Bucky restrain his opponent and come back to move her after. 

I held the back of my arm, which was still oozing blood. The dizziness was slowly creeping up on me, but I tapped into the reserve of adrenaline to assess the chaos in front of me. 

Lucky for Bucky, he was holding his own well enough even if his opponent was double his size (but are we shocked? No.), so I moved to the kitchen for a weapon, considering we didn’t have time to prepare before this fight broke out. 

For context, this all started with me coming over here to meet Bethanne for a yoga class she had invited me to this morning. Bucky just happened to be heading home earlier from "work," given that he actually had nothing to do.

Lucky for me because Bethanne had used the excuse of yoga to corner me, and Reggie happened to be home to help, too.

I had played into their casualness to start, feeling the energy off and their disposition askew, and tried to stall for a while, knowing it would be a better fight with my partner nearby. I texted Bucky to meet me at their place with an excuse, and by the time he got there (5 minutes later), the fight broke out, and all curtains were pulled back to reveal the truth.

“Barnes!” I shout, and his head pops up from his position, trying to disengage Reggie. I throw the knife I got a hold of from across the room, and he spins, turning the giant perfectly to where the knife embeds itself in the front of his thigh. 

A yell in pain sounds, and Bucky turns to hold his head in a lock that eventually makes Reggie pass out. 

Silence takes over the space. The only sound is our panting as he looks at the damage and sees the end of our mission come to a close. Whether intentional or not…

“So, that was fun. Glad we got some cardio in,” I huff, pulling my arm closer to my body and putting pressure on the cut. 

“Jesus fuck,” Bucky runs a hand through his hair and walks to me. “Where’d she get you?” 

His hands are gentle and light compared to how he’d been using them the last few minutes. He turns me to the side, using my shoulder as leverage, and bends to look at the gash on my arm right above the back of my elbow. I had been wearing a dry-fit running jacket that clung to me, so the damage wasn’t 100% visible, I’m sure, but the hiss he lets out when he sees it leads me to believe otherwise. 

“How’s it look, Doc?” I ask and wince with a sharp breath when he pokes at it. “Dude. Jagged glass cut. Careful.” 

“Just moved the fabric,” he grumbles, still examining it. In front of us, Reggie groans. We both look at him. 

“We can play operation in a minute. Let’s tie the big guy up, and you can help me get Raggedy Bethanne from the other room in here to interrogate,” I push past his shoulder as I move to get Reggie situated. 

Begrudgingly, Bucky helped me move the sleeping giant and we shut all the blinds and set the space for a controlled interrogation. 

Currently, Bucky is on the phone with Steve, letting him know the plan went awry. We were working on getting information while we waited for a team to come collect the two perpetrators. Steve confirmed he’d send undercover agents as cops for us to wrap up the loose ends. 

In the middle of the call, someone knocks on the door, and we share a look. I’m still covered in blood, but I find a painter's poncho on the side, throw it on quickly, and grab a used paintbrush in the convenient tray next to it. 

“One second!” I shout, making a few marks on the poncho and one on my face for show. I go to open the door, praying I don’t have any blood on my face, but I did well in keeping away from Bethanne’s pathetic attempts of retaliation. 

When I open the door, I see their next-door neighbor, Mrs. Nosy-Nancy Betrum, smiling wearily in front of me. 

“Oh, hello, Charlotte,” she says nervously, trying to peer into the house around me. “Is Bethanne in there?” 

“Oh,” I perk up casually, turning behind me for a second and looking back at her. “She just ran to the bathroom. Is everything ok?”

“I just heard some shouting and crashing and wasn’t sure what was going on,” she started, still trying to peak into the background that I’m mostly hiding, so I moved a little to show the not-as-destroyed part of the house. 

“Oh, she’s doing a kitchen renovation and asked if we could help since we have some experience ourselves. The boys are hauling and dismantling some things. Lots of grunting and noise, I’m afraid,” I cringe lightly to play into the apologetic side of the conversation. “I’ll let her know we’re being too loud.” 

“Oh, ok,” she nodded, seemingly convinced but still glancing in. 

“Char, can you come help me and Reggie with this?” Bucky shouts, and I turn to look at him as he gives me an out. 

“Sorry about the noise, Nancy. We’ll try to be considerate about it. One sec, honey!” I nod back. “See you for Wednesday book club at Katrina’s next week.” I give an award-winning smile, and that seems to seal the deal. 

“Let me know how the finished project comes out,” she waves, walking down the steps.

After I shut the door, I groan as the pain in the back of my arm throbs more and more. 

“I’ll get Beth,” Bucky stands up from where he has successfully tied up Reggie and anchored him to a chair. “You go find a clean cloth and put some pressure on that,” he points out my arm that’s smearing red into the white paint I had tried to hide it with. 

“Good plan,” I nod, hissing as I move to the kitchen to make a makeshift tourniquet. 

_____________

The mission was done. I could sleep in my own bed now. My arm hurt like hell, and I was dreading the unfortunate aftercare and restrictions to come, but the mission was over, and I was headed home. 

After we got Bethanne and Reginald situated, the interrogation started, and they squealed like pigs. Well, Bethanne did, but Reggie didn’t hold out like he thought he would after some convincing with Bucky’s form of torture. Restrained if you ask me…

We had a list of other names to hunt and find. We found solid evidence in their home to prove most of it. Steve and Nat were given puzzle pieces that we had come for originally, so we were on the right path of taking down the organization Fury had been hunting.  

Things worked out for the better, even with the fact that they had successfully hidden a bug, and we were discovered. But there was a reason Bucky and I were picked for this, and we proved that. 

“What’s the diagnosis?” Bucky asked, coming into the med-bay I had been stationed in for the last hour on the Quinjet home. 

“I won’t need a robotic arm, unfortunately. I’ll have to wait a little longer before I can join your one-man club,” I sigh depressingly before I quirk a smile at him. 

“Wouldn’t be a one-man club if you joined it, now would it?” he laughed, sitting on the bed next to me where the nurse finished the stitches and wrapped a clean gauze bandage around it. 

“Thank you.” I nodded her way as she grabbed her things and walked out quietly. 

“Gonna be a minute before you back out in the ring, huh?” he asked, bumping my shoulder. “Sam hasn’t been proving to be the best dueling partner. Maybe since you won’t try to kill me now, you can take up the title? I feel like you’d be a decent match.” 

I turn to him after picking at my bandage and eye him. “Who says I wouldn’t try to kill you still? What’s the good of training if you’re not practicing the real thing?” 

He rolls his eyes and spreads his legs a little more, causing his knee to bump into mine.

“I don’t think you’ll be up for the killing portion of our fights for a bit, so I’ll take the advantage as long as possible.” 

“You think a little scratch like this has held me back from killing before?” He laughed under his breath, and we sat in comfortable silence for a minute. “The team isn’t going to believe I no longer have a vendetta against you,” I whisper. “They’re going to think we’re putting on an act.”

Bucky’s POV:

“I, for one, prefer the nicety over the insults, but that’s me personally,” I say, noticing the nerves in her comment. 

“I’m going to miss insulting you,” she sighs heavily, and I’m shocked at her closing in the space enough for our shoulders to touch. “I don’t have to give it up fully, do I?” 

I take her attempt of trying to lighten the mood and nod. 

“Considering the team is going to give us hell for it, and Steve has a bet we’ll make up in 3-weeks-”

“Wait, make up? I thought the bet was how long until we bite each other’s heads off.” 

“Nat’s bet is. She gave it until tomorrow actually. Steve was rooting for us I guess,” I shrug. 

“Hmmm,” she nods her head as she thinks things through. I’ve seen that look many times. “What if we messed with them?” 

“Channel our energy into keeping the charade going a little longer so neither wins?” 

“You really shouldn’t be betting on your friends,” she grins mischievously. 

“I’m always down for winning a second time this week,” I smile back.

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[stellar-collective]

went a bit crazier w this one than i intended but here’s Phoenix and Reginald in the ghost hunters au!! notes and extras below the cut :3

OK let’s talk about Phoenix’s design! this is them specifically after the conclusion of Cog In The Machine since bits and pieces of their appearance change throughout the story. they got their nose scar from Solaris, at the start of CITM they’re on crutches (and tbh they probably still should be but they’re stubborn about that kind of thing), and they got their red jacket sleeve during KBOOM! they also took some souvenirs from the ghosts that ended up being friendly to them; a violin string from Anna and a thin rope from Ollie. they turned both into bracelets and consider them good luck charms (and based on the fact that they’re still alive, they sure seem to work!)

their dynamic with Reggie is basically the same as canon; they both have a rather casual, almost irreverent view of their rather dangerous job and don’t spook easily. Phoenix is the front of the operation, engaging the ghosts directly, while Reginald hangs back with the equipment and gives them slightly questionable advice through their walkie talkie. he’s usually in the house with them, just a step removed from the situation so he can more easily run in and pull them out in case things go pear-shaped (which they do more often than not lol)

uhh let’s see, here’s some random stuff about the drawing itself: the UD on their cards stands for Upon Death, so it’s a final wish sort of thing. i gave Phoenix a last name because this au takes place in 2012 and they’re a civilian so they needed one but i didn’t put an enormous amount of thought into it. could still change. i used a website to make the newspaper to the left of Phoenix; it’s about Ollie! ok uhh yeah more coming soon in between pirate au stuff and normal content but that’s all i got for now :]

[marlsswrites]

Summer camp AU, part 21!!

July 21st <3

Core - @jegulus-microfic - words: 881

First part Previous part

Arms swinging at their sides, pale skin reflecting pale skin and dark raven hair twinning as it fell from both of their heads in perfect curls. Yet one reached his shoulders and the other busy below his ears. The sounds of the wind whipping through the trees surrounded them, leaving them in an blissful silence as it felt like the wind was hissing and whispering at them.

It was early morning, Regulus had decided that he wanted to be productive and go for a walk, before he knew it his tired feet seemed to mindlessly carry him to where his brother was staying, his shaky hand knocking on the door then followed by a creak, the open door revealing Sirius, who's face bloomed with a grin as soon as he saw Regulus.

So here they are now, going for a walk and talking as brothers should, because they really need to do that more. The love between the two Blacks was almost invisible to the naked eye, but Regulus could see it, so could his brother. They both loved hard and soft, in their own ways yet still so caring.

The only other difference between them now was the younger boys scowl and the older boys wary smile as he was clearly waiting to say something that was sure to draw some sort of negative reaction from Regulus.

"Reggie?" His brother asked hesitantly as they nearly came to a stop outside Regulus' cabin, which was out of sight but still only a few doors down.

"Yes, Sirius?" A response came with a sigh. "Spit it out."

Sirius furrowed his eyebrows. "What?" He asked, his voice raising an octave.

"You clearly want to say something." He snapped, soon after realising he may have started being a bit too harsh, so his offered the best smile that he could muster - it wasn't a very wide or cheerful one, but it was there.

Sirius' face relaxed slightly, but it still held an unsettling tensity to it that urged Regulus to chew on his nails and nervously bite the skin of his glossy lips. See, he never knew what to expect from Sirius when they spoke, normally they avoided the harsh topics but that was a difficult thing to manage judging on their childhood. But there is one thing that Regulus can think happened, the one thing Sirius interrupted. He's been avoiding his brother ever since, praying he'd just forget or leave it alone, but clearly not. He still doesn't quite know what happened himself, how is he expected to explain it to Sirius?

They continued to walk, Sirius releasing what he had to say in one breath before pursing his lips and looking directly into Regulus' guilt filled eyes. "What happened at the movie night?"

"We watched movies." He replied bluntly

"You know what I mean."

"Do I?" Regulus avoided the question, as that was his only current solution, he didn't want to talk about it, not now, not ever. Especially not with Sirius out of all people.

The older flicked him on the arm, groaning and giving him an eyebrow raise to face Regulus' faux innocent face and his wide eyes as he yelped at the feeling of Sirius' nail hitting his arm with a sting. "Regulus!"

He only hummed in response, gaze sticking to the floor as they rounded the corner and made their way to Regulus' and James' shared cabin.

"I love you to the fucking core of my heart." Sirius started, Regulus scrunching his nose up at the affection but forcing himself to look up at his brother. "But you are so stubborn!"

"I'm not!"

"Fine." Sirius huffed. "Do you like him?" 

They walked through the door into the cabin, Sirius still tailing onto him like a dog following it's beloved, fast paced owner, as he kicked his shoes off and instantly sat himself - actually no, launched himself - onto Regulus' once neatly made, uncreased, bed. 

Music echoed from the bathroom, loud Arctic Monkeys songs blasted through the door as he could hear the low raspy humming of James as the water poured from the shower and hit the floor, Regulus taking in every single sound as the sound of his brothers horrific singing came into his ears.

"I'm not answering that." Regulus finally replied. 

"Regulus, do you like him-"

Seconds later, neither boys seemed to have noticed the lack of the sound of water and booming music coming from the bathroom. The door opened to let heaps of hot, sticky, steam out and James walked out.

The towel was tied sinfully low around his pointed waist, his hip bones stuck out and formed a lovely looking v shape that Regulus wanted to trace with his hands and admire it in all of its beauty. His tan skin had gotten darker during the summer, but with the water dripping from his torso it reflected the bright light that hung over Regulus' head. The smattering of hair ran under his towel made Regulus feel dizzy, the smile on his face when he saw Regulus standing there, hands on his hips and jaw lightly slack as he tried to push some words out of his mouth, made Regulus want to crumble to the wet wooden floor at his feet.

"Never mind." A cough came from the side of him as Sirius narrowed his eyes. "That answers my question." He sighed.

Next part

[hitmewithsomebooks]

@jegulus-microfic Jan 11 - fever

243 words

~

"James, you need to stay home." Regulus stated, his voice stern.

"No, no, I'm fine, Reggie, I can't miss work, I-" James broke off as he nearly wiped out trying to get out of bed, clutching his head ruefully and his husband for dear life.

"See, you can't even stand up. You're not going anywhere." Regulus ordered, pushing the stubborn man back down onto their bed.

"But—"

"James Potter I swear if I have to ward you into this house, I will." Regulus warned, and James shut his mouth, settling back against the pillows.

"That’s better. I'm going to make you some tea. And if you even try to move out of that bed I won’t fuck you for a week." Regulus threatened.

“Like you could hold out that long.” James scoffed, and Regulus narrowed his eyes.

“Do you really doubt me, Potter?” Regulus asked, voice steady.

“Er— kinda?” James replied, but he grew more unsure, survival instincts finally kicking in.

“Do you really want to test the limits I’ll go to in order to prove a point?” Regulus questioned, one eyebrow raised in a perfect arch. James sucked in his lips.

“No, no I do not. I’ll stay right here, don’t you worry.” James answered this time, patting the bed and settling in further to show Regulus he meant it.

“Good boy.” Regulus praised, and James shivered. Regulus smiled, pleased, and went to fetch his lovely idiot of a husband some tea.

[noblehouseofgay]

Amortentia

Jegulus/Black Brothers microfic

Mostly fluff for once <3

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

"Aw come on, what's it smell like, Reggie?" Ever since potions ended for the day, James has been asking Reg the same question. What does his Amortentia smell like.

"None of your business." "What's going on?" Oh great. His brother. Sirius slung his arms over both boys' shoulders, shoving in between them.

"Well I'm t r y i n g to get Baby Black to spill what his potion smells like, but he won't budge."

"Don't call me that."

Sirius laughs a bit. "Aw does Reggie have a secret crush?" Regulus' cheeks flushed. "Fuck off." He shoved Sirius arm off him. "At least tell me, I'm your brother."

Although he knew better, the petty stubborn part of him won. He looked his brother in the eyes. "Ton meilleur ami (your best friend)."

Sirius' eyes widened. Regulus bit his tongue, not knowing what to expect from his brother.

Sirius just stared at him for a minute. "I- you-" he huffed and stomped off. Regulus' mouth went dry. He expected his brother to not be happy, but he didn't expect angry. He stared off, in a daze.

James frantically looked back and forth between where Sirius went and Regulus. "I'll- I'll go talk to him, I'm sure it'll be ok." He began to leave but Regulus stopped him. "No....I'll speak with him."

He walked down the hallway, messing with his sleeve. Eventually he came across his brother standing against a wall outside.

He tried to control his shaky breaths. "I wasn't going to do anything about it..."

Sirius sighed. "James though? Really? My best friend."

"It's not like I can control it, Sirius..." He sighed. "Look. I know he deserves better than me. I wasn't ever going to tell him or do anything about it....so if that's what you're worried about, then stop it. James will go on blissfully ignorant, never knowing of my pathetic feelings." His voice had bite in it, his attempt to disguise the way his heart ached.

Sirius was quiet. Which would usually be cause for celebration, but right now it just hurt. Deep down he always knew James was Sirius' preferred brother, but he didn't think Sirius would be mad at him for this. How could he be mad? Sirius should be happy that Regulus appreciates James so much. And he should be happy that Regulus won't act on it. He won't get in anyone's way. He can bury his feelings. James can have Lily and he'll let the world keep turning the way its supposed to while he sits the bench.

Sirius broke the silence "I'm not...mad." He couldn't have said that sooner? Saved regulus some panic? "I just don't want either of you hurt." Oh.

"I wouldn't hurt him. Not if I can help it." Sirius looked at him. "I don't want you hurt either, Reg..."

Regulus rolled his eyes. "Sirius, please. This is James we're talking about, he wouldn't hurt anyone, let alone his best friend's little brother."

"Maybe not on purpose, but if he doesn't return your feelings..."

"We don't need to worry about that. I'm not telling him." "You can't be serious." "Of course not, I'd never want to be you."

Sirius rolled his eyes. "You're really not going to tell him?" His expression softened a little.

Regulus looked at his feet. "No."

It was quiet for a minute. "Can I ask why?" Sirius sounded softer than he'd heard him in a long time. It was almost nice, if only it hadn't been about this.

Regulus hesitated. "Whether he...returns my feelings or not, I don't want to hold him back." He hated admitting these things out loud. "He can do better than me. And he should...do better than me. I don't deserve him."

"Regulus-" "No, Sirius. You of all people should understand I'm not good enough. I'm sarcastic. I'm rude. He thrives in the sunlight, and I am nothing but darkness. I'm in the house you've both hated since year one. I am everything you all should despise." He didn't mean to say so much, but it all just flowed out. He couldn't control it once he started. His eyes stung a little. He looked away.

He's happy his brother talks to him again. He missed him. Of course he missed him. But there will always be part of him that feels he doesn't belong with his brother and his friends. He had always felt like an outsider. Maybe he should've stayed an outsider rather than pushing his way in.

Sirius looked at him with sad eyes. "I don't despise you.....I never have." Part of Regulus knew that was true, but there would always be a voice that told him otherwise. "James should be lucky...that you care for him so much, Reg. I know it's hard for you.....to have feelings like this....he'd be lucky."

"He wants Lily, not me." Regulus couldn't look at his brother anymore. He didn't want his brother to put ideas in his head. Regulus knew it could never work, he didn't want Sirius even entertaining the idea. "He likes Lily and she likes him. They'd be good together." He paused. His voice got quieter. "And all I want James to be happy..."

Even if he couldn't have him in this life or the next. He wanted James to be happy. Just like he'd always wanted Sirius happy, whether he was involved or not.

Sirius was looking off somewhere. He was thinking. "Whatever you're thinking, stop it." "I just think maybe we could find out for sure who he likes." "Sirius he doesn't like me that way." "He could. You don't know he doesn't." "Sirius- I am not doing this! I won't give myself false hope!" "Reg, I don't think it's false hope, I really think he could like you."

Regulus was quiet. He knew they were both too stubborn to give in, but just this once he would. Whether it was for selfish reasons or not, nobody would know. "Don't be obvious about it. Whatever you're going to do- don't be obvious. I'll kill you if he finds out not on my terms."

"All we have to do is find out what h i s potion smelled like. He asked you, we'll just say you'll tell him if he tells you."

It wasn't a bad plan. It was simple, and regulus could just lie if needed. "Fine."

So back to James they went. "Are you two ok?" His eyes were so concerned, he really cared about them both didn't he?

"We're all good, prongs. Though, before we left, you wanted to know what Reggie's potion smelled like. But I want to know what yours smelled like. Think it's a fair trade right?"

"Oh-" James tensed up a little to Regulus surprise. It wasn't a secret he fancied Evans, the whole bloody castle had known for years.

"Well it smelled sort of like freshly opened ink, vanilla..." His voice quieted. "And a little like broom polish."

Sirius smirked a little at Regulus, who's face was warming up. "Interesting mix there, Prongs. Doesn't exactly seem like Evans, does it?"

"No...not really." James tried to manage a light hearted laugh.

"Now, Reggie, I believe you owe an answer too."

Regulus wanted to slap that smirk from his brother's face. "Cardamom and cedar wood." He stared daggers at the floor. "And...broom polish...as well."

"Interesting. Very interesting." Sirius was so fucking smug that Regulus almost pulled out his wand to hex him, but he was distracted when James moved closer.

He looked up at him. "What, Potter? You got your answer."

James was smiling. His eyes were so kind. So lovely. "Yeah....I did."

Regulus felt his face burning. "Good." He threw one more glare at his brother and promptly left, but the entire time he swore he felt Potter's eyes never leave him until he was out of sight.