#regulus is infatuated

[managone16]

James: Reg, no you can’t do that— Regulus: Shut up Potter, I— James: You can’t use such a small bag to fit all you books! Regulus: But it has— James: It’s not possible! It just won’t fit— Regulus: James, have you never fucking heard of extension charms? James: Yes but— James: Oh. James: You called me James. Oh my god, you- Regulus: Tell the whole fucking school, Potter. Go on, be louder. James: REGULUS BLACK CAL—*muffled sound* Regulus: Merlin, you are such a nuisance. James, kissing Regulus’ temple: Only for you, darling.  *Regulus rolls his eyes, hiding a profound blush*

[ultravioletbrit]

“nuts” - Jegulus microfic - @into-the-jeggyverse - 309 words

 

Sirius is sitting on his bed trying to do his Transfiguration homework, but he can’t concentrate at all because James has been rambling about Regulus for the last 20 minutes.

“… And did you hear what he said to me in the hall today?” James asks wistfully.

“Yes, he told you to piss off.” Sirius replies without looking up.

“But he made eye contact with me! And have you seen his eyes?” James falls back on his bed with a sigh and Sirius just groans.

“His eyes are the most beautiful thing I have ever seen. Most people think they look grey, but they have a silver tint to them that makes them sparkle and they are just… beautiful.” James sits up straight on the edge of his bed.

“And his hair. Have you seen his hair? I touched it once, accidentally, and he slapped my hand away. But when I touched it, it was so soft and when he slapped my hand it made my whole arm tingle.” James closes his eyes as if he’s remembering the moment.

“James, shut. up.” Sirius grumbles.

“And his hands! Did you know he plays the piano? His fingers are so long and elegant, I bet he’s brilliant when he plays.”

Sirius finally looks up, grabs a pillow and throws it at James’ head.

“James, you are driving me nuts! Either ask him out or shut the fuck up!” Sirius yells at him.

James just stares at Sirius stunned for a moment then wraps his arms around the pillow.

“You think I should ask him out? Really?” James asks excitedly. “How should I do it? It has to be really special. But it’s Regulus, so he wouldn’t want anything over the top. Maybe I should just go simple…” James continues to ramble.

Sirius buries his head in his other pillow with a loud groan.

[declanisms]

why did I click on the lily evans tag for the top post to be a fucking jegulus post I’m ready to commit crimes

[rockonfreakybro69]

I knew it wouldn’t last a month,

When I fell in love with them at first sight.

I knew the love would last a lifetime,

But we never stood a chance.

I knew it wouldn’t last, when we kissed a few months later.

‘Platonic’ we said, as my heart burst from my chest

Maybe it was for you, but I was well and truly lost to you.

I knew it wouldn’t last a month when the kiss finally meant something, a year after we met.

I wanted to wait , but i never told, because I knew if we were together,

We wouldn’t last a month.

We had a first ‘date’

It was perfect, I had butterflies

I was so irrevocably in love

But I knew we wouldn’t last a month.

You finally grew a pair and asked me to be your girlfriend.

I was terrified of it, but I could never say no,

So then we were together,

But we didn’t last a month.

All affection left, the casual teasing was gone.

We never went on another date.

My heart was shattered.

You sent me a text.

‘We won’t work’

You said it was because of your mental health

I know I was just never enough.

It has been six months and I am still undeniably and irreversibly infatuated

I should have tried harder, I know that now.

But I also knew my love would last a lifetime, but we wouldn’t last a month.

[crescenthistory]

my favourite canon fix it is a jegulily/past doubleflower/current narcissa/alice concept where cissa defects when she learns of the prophecy (can’t let her ex and her lover die, can she?) and helps a select few of the order capture bellatrix safely on a rogue mission, so lily can pose as her with polyjuice potion and learn of the exact plans of the murder of the longbottoms and the potters — and get regulus back

[yasministration]

Infatuated - regulus black, platonic!sirius

summary: your relationship with regulus pulls him and one of your best friends, sirius, closer together for the first time in years. a/n so i did forget to post this yesterday, but let's just look past that. wc: 0.9k+

For the first time in four months, Regulus and Sirius were sat in the same room, and it was all thanks to you. Regulus, oh so loving, had blindly come to your dorm to find you after his last class of the day in search of hugs and kisses. Sirius, on the other hand, had barged into your dormitory in hopes of you lending him a hair tie. Neither of them had found you, no, but they found each other. Regulus’s head had snapped towards the door from where he was laid on your bed, scanning through the novel on your bedside table. Sirius halted in the doorway, jaw slacking, the hand holding his hair up in a makeshift bun falling limp to his side.

Sirius felt the need to explain himself, not wanting to give his younger brother the wrong impression. “I, uh, I wanted to ask her for a hair tie.” Regulus nodded wordlessly, flipping onto his stomach and opening your bedside drawer, filing through the organised mess. With a proud hum, Regulus fished out a hair tie between his thumb and index finger, holding it out for Sirius. Sirius walked over to Regulus, pursing his lips in an awkward smile as he quietly thanked him, tying his hair back. The two brothers stared at each other silently for a long moment before Regulus finally spoke up. He felt as though he owed it to Sirius to let him know that he wasn’t taking advantage of one of his closest friends. Regulus sat up, swinging his legs off your bed and fiddling with his fingers as he stood up, announcing “I really like her, you know?” Sirius breathed out a laugh, nodding his head with a smile. “Yeah, I can see that.” Regulus chuckled nervously, bowing his head down to look as his feet as he added “And you know, I’d like to think she likes me too.” 

Sirius shoved his hands into his pockets as he barked out a laugh, balancing his weight back and forth onto the balls and heels of his feet. “Yeah, you don’t have to tell me that.” Regulus furrowed his eyebrows in confusion, asking curiously “What do you mean?” Sirius’s eyebrows shot up in surprise at his brother’s genuine question, shocked that he didn’t realise the true extent of your feelings towards him. “I mean, the girl’s infatuated with you!” Sirius started, watching as a flush painted Reg’s cheeks. “Everyone can tell by the way she looks at you. And she smiles so much her cheeks look like they hurt.” Sirius took Regulus’s silence as a cue to continue. “You know, she tries not to talk about you too much to me, but I think she just can’t help it.” Regulus laughed shyly, trying to hide his ecstatic smile from Sirius, but the boy could clearly see his smile and was grinning back at him. 

Sirius looked back towards the door as the room became silent again, announcing “Well! I’ll return this if I don’t lose it.” Regulus chuckled as a response, watching as the door opened. The only problem was that it wasn’t Sirius who had turned the doorknob. No, it was you. Your audible gasp thickened the tension in the room, but it was quickly broken down by the wide smile that immediately bloomed on your face, both brothers softening at the adoring look on your face. “Hey you guys!” You dropped your bag by the doorway, beelining to Sirius to press a kiss onto his forehead before making your way towards Regulus and opening your arms widely to engulf Regulus in a hug. Your boyfriend quickly glanced at his older brother before ducking down and wrapping his arms around your waist, shutting his eyes in satisfaction and he sighed. You pulled away slightly to press your lips to his, a hand traveling down to caress Regulus’ pink cheek. 

“So, what were you two doing in here without me?” You asked, turning your head back to look at Sirius, your arms still loosely holding Regulus against you, though his arms kept you snug against him. “Burrowing a hair tie.” Sirius muttered guiltily, as though getting caught stealing. You didn’t wait for Regulus’s answer, having found him waiting for you in your dorm quite often, instead adding “Hey, are you boys coming to mine on Christmas eve?” You asked with a smile that pressured them both to accept your invitation despite the other being there. You turned back to look at Reggie, mumbling “Well I know you’re staying with me anyway, but is Sirius coming?” 

Sirius furrowed his eyebrows in confusion, watching as you moved to sit down on your bed, Regulus following you like a lost puppy. “What do you mean?” “I’m spending the Christmas holiday at my lovely girlfriend’s house.” Regulus announced, a hand wrapping around your shoulder. Sirius let out a quiet ‘huh’, surprised that for the first time since his time at Hogwarts started, Regulus was not going back home for the Christmas holidays. Sirius wondered if the situation at home had gotten worse since he left. Realising he was staring silently, Sirius nodded, saying “Uh yeah, James and I are coming for sure. I’m not sure about the others.” Sirius nodded awkwardly at Regulus, spinning on the balls of his feet as he said a quick goodbye.

As the door slammed shut, you turned towards Regulus, pushing him back on the bed as you connected your lips in an eager kiss. “I’m happy you guys are getting along,” you muttered against his lips. “It’s cute to see you guys together.” Regulus rolled you over on the bed so he laid between your legs, resting his head on your chest as he thought deeply, finally saying. “I’m happy too.” 

[acourtofchaos]

MARAUDERS ERA FIC RECS

REMUS LUPIN

BY TIRED HANDS by @luveline

CALM AFTER THE STORM by @angelfic

HIS GIRL by @opalesquegirl

IT'S TIME TO GO | PART TWO | PART THREE by @godlessandwrecked

TAKE A BITE OUT OF MY HEART* by @upsidedownwithsteve

JAMES POTTER

IF I KISS YOU, I'M SORRY

TIME WARP

by @astonishment

IS IT CHILL THAT YOU'RE IN MY HEAD by @boneblushed

WILDEST DREAMS by @pretty-little-mind33

YOU DON'T REALLY LIKE ME, YOU JUST THINK YOU DO by @perpetuallydaydreaming

SIRIUS BLACK

GORGEOUS by @cassiopeiasdaughter

LITTLE LIES* by @amiableness

'CAUSE I DON'T WANT YOU LIKE A BEST FRIEND by @evermoreal

AREN'T PROMISES MEANT TO BE BROKEN by @perpetuallydaydreaming

RIGHT WHERE I WANT TO BE by @appocalipse

REGULUS BLACK

DARLING, YOU LOOK DIVINE* by @theostrophywife

SECOND SON by @cherryslyce

HOW EMBARRASSING by @ellecdc

POSSESSIVE

INFATUATION

by @r0mantic-f00l

TENSION* | PART TWO* by @mysticmoaning

*indicates smut

[c0mbatchameleon]

Regulus as a tired, overworked student who frequents the hotel bar by his apartment to work on his PhD thesis (there are couches and the right amount of background noise and no one bats an eye at him pulling a laptop out with a drink in hand, alone). James as the nepo-baby son of the hotel owners who has taken over most operations, and becomes infatuated with the socially awkward man always sat cross-legged on the far couch, often looking, frankly, on the brink of death. James who did major in hospitality after all, and develops an insistent need to take care of this man that obviously isn’t taking care of himself.

Regulus, who doesn’t know why the hotel staff keep sending him free bar food, “on the house.” And then, instead of bar food, it’s appetizers and small plates from the fancy attached restaurant, and then, oh come on, that’s like a $100 steak entree, and then the owner of the hotel is personally delivering them??? The hottest man regulus has ever seen, mind you??

James, who makes it his personal mission to get regulus to take a break, maybe even relax. Who ultimately succeeds at this, to regulus’s embarrassment, surprisingly quickly, because regulus simply cannot resist a beautiful man in business clothes taking care of him.

[prettybabybaby]

¡ 18+ only ! ¡ minors do not interact !

content: noncon, stepcest, forced pregnancy, dark!stepbrother!regulus, fem!reader

it didn't seem like it, but regulus was all too willing. his mind was spinning in excitement at his mother's plan. her insistence to maintain their pureblood status had led her to believe that this was the only way to keep it. regulus was instructed to impregnate you by any means necessary.

sirius had gone insane. "they're siblings!" he exclaimed time after time. stepsiblings, regulus wanted to say. not that it really mattered. the black family is no stranger to incestuous relationships.

and regulus had been dreaming of an opportunity to fuck you, to bury himself deep inside you and fill you to the brim with the next heir. his once sweet stepsister who was now headed down the wrong path, infatuated with some useless muggle. his mother would never allow such a thing, and neither would he, especially now.

your nails were no match, your words even less. you're my stepbrother. you're hurting me. regulus, please. your pleas went in one ear and out the other, his pleasure drowning out the noises. his focus on the way your silky walls clenched around his twitching prick, unconsciously begging for his seed to breach your fertile womb, and regulus refused to stop until it did.

[viviandarkbloombartylusversion]

Wait...cause what about minor age gap bartylus, like only 2-3 years but Barty has got a terrible crush on Regulus, yknow he's older, kinda forbidden cause his father tells him the Black's are all awful, beautiful without doubt, smart, and even great at quidditch. Regulus catches on because he's trained himself to know who's eye he catches, Barty isn't his usual type, he's younger when Regulus prefers older, but he's cute and has this nerdy, loser daddy's boy charm, and Regulus realizes he can corrupt that, he sees Barty's potential and knows what strings to pull to get Barty there. Regulus starts hanging around Barty more often, whispering in his ear, and Barty is eating it up, falling deeper, becoming more and more infatuated. What Regulus doesn't realize is that he's getting attached, and at some point, he can't picture a life without Barty. Barty is his, he keeps Barty's hair, pictures and blood vials and a t-shirt all tucked away for safe keeping in his dresser.

[stellaskeketon]

Propaganda I’m not falling for (some explained)

• Straight/Bi Regulus Black (that is a GAY man)

• Peter and James weren’t childhood best friends

• James and Sirius would choose anyone over each other

• “The Marauders would bully you irl” yeah sure let a guy named Padfoot or Wormtail try to say anything to me

• Snape truly loved Lily (this is my most controversial take, he did not he was infatuated big difference)

• Marlene dating men (THAT IS A LESBIAN)

• Barty being lumped into Slytherin and people making him dumb (we are losing the ancient texts)

[my-castles-crumbling]

couch - @jegulus-microfic - word count: 279

James and his friends were laid out in the Common Room, relaxing after a long night of essay writing and textbook reading. Sirius and Remus were busy debating about the pros and cons of their newest prank idea, Sirius stretched out across Remus's lap with his feet nudging James's thigh.

James, however, was not paying attention. He was too busy thinking about Regulus.

Sirius had been surprisingly alright with James's infatuation, though he'd warned the other boy that his patience and support only went so far. So James tried to keep his thoughts to himself. Sometimes, though, he figured that Sirius at least had an idea about where his brain went when his mouth stopped going a mile a minute. Ah, well.

"....and then they'll all drink the potion," Sirius blabbered on to Remus, who was nodding enthusiastically. "And bam! Pink hair!"

Hair. Regulus had nice hair. Not to short, not too long. So shiny and curly, and James often wanted to run his fingers through it. Once, when Regulus had been in a particularly good mood, he'd allowed James to take a stray strand of hair and return it behind his ear, their eyes locking and heat building between them. James swallowed, remembering the way he'd just barely resisted connecting their lips, pushing the other boy against the cool stone wall, devouring his mouth with his own. Merlin, he loved Regulus's hair.

"....so I think it'd work. What do you think, Prongs?" Sirius continued, looking over to James.

"....Reg would look good with pink hair," James mumbled dreamily, eyes glazed still lost in thought.

With a kick to his thigh, he found himself violently shoved off the couch.

[regblks]

can someone write a jegulus au where James is muggle and best friends with Sirius still, but he doesn’t know Sirius is a wizard. he meets Sirius’ brother on accident one day when they run into him somewhere and regulus is like who is this Sirius who is that, like he’s immediately infatuated. regulus already has the mark at this point, but Sirius doesn’t know and then he starts inserting himself in Sirius’ plans to hang out with James. He cannot believe James is a muggle and that he’s taken a vow to go against people like James and so that’s what makes him want to go against Voldemort. James finds out about magic when Sirius sees the mark on regulus’ arm and James is like oh cool tattoo and Sirius loses his shit and James is just standing there like what’s happening friends 🧍‍♀️ because the tattoo makes regulus even hotter in James’ opinion. Then Sirius explains it to James right in front of regulus and James feels sort of betrayed by it because he and regulus have been flirting with each other so wdym he wants me dead Sirius.

Or something like that, thank you 🙇‍♀️

[themoonandtosaturn]

wall - @rosekillermicrofic - background wolfstar- word count: 507

“Well,” thought Evan. If Gryffindor knew one thing, it was how to throw a party. Barely two hours in, the room was packed with students from all houses, most of them dancing, some, like himself, leaning against walls and chatting animatedly to friends. All of them having a bloody good time.

He smiled softly as his gaze wandered to Regulus’s older brother, Sirius, dancing with a taller boy he believed was called Remus Lupin. Black was an excellent dancer, Evan supposed it was his pure blood nature, Lupin on the other hand was awkwardly swaying to the music and seemed whole heartedly out of place on the dance floor. Evan could only assume that Black had dragged him there. Despite this, both boys were beaming, totally infatuated with each other, utterly in love.

Shifting his position against the wall, Evan wondered where Barty was. Barty, who had been playing on his mind, a lot more that was probably healthy, lately. Barty, who Evan had caught staring at him more than once in the last few weeks. Barty, who, if Evan had the courage to, he would have probably asked to come with him to this party. And they could have danced, just as the boys before him were.

“Rosier.” Evan jumped, and sloshed Fire-whisky down his front, as Barty Crouch appeared at his side, a small smirk playing on his face. “Mind if I join you?”

“No- not at all.” He stammered, face growing hot as Barty moved next to him, casually leaning against the wall.

Both boys were quiet for a while, watching the dancers before them, Evan occasionally sneaking glances at Barty until –

“You know, I wanted to ask you to come with me.” Crouch’s voice was barely audible in the noisy room.

“What?”

“To this, the party. I wanted you to come with me, as … as my date.”

“Your date.” Evan’s heart was beating so fast he could hear it in his ears, as he turned to face the other boy.

“Yeah … as my date.” Crouch was turning a deep shade of scarlet, and Evan fought back a laugh as he watched him squirm.

“You like me.” It wasn’t a question.

“I thought,” A smile was playing on Barty’s face, “That it was obvious to be honest.”

“Well, I thought, that you were just being, I don’t know, that you were flirting with me for fun I guess.” He babbled, the words sounded so stupid now, Evan thought, as the two boys stood barely inches apart.

“No Rosie, it was not just for fun.” There was a questioning note in Crouch’s voice, as though he was scared of how Evan would respond. As though there was a slight possibly that he would say no.

“Well then.” Evan turned back to the dancers and smiled as Crouch looked confusedly up at him.

He spun on his heel, grinning as he faced the other boy, who backed quickly into the wall at Evan’s sudden movement. He sunk into a deep bow.

“Care to dance?”

[crescenthistory]

barty and his polar opposite daughter

synopsis: based on this post, barty raises a sweet girl who winds up being the polar opposite of himself – a polite, emphatic, pink-loving, tea-having little princess – and he adores her for it. while walking in the park, they meet a stranger with a dog that infatuates the both of them.

wc: 3.8k

cw: fem!reader, girl dad!barty, kid fic, single parent, modern muggle au, barty pov, ophelia being a whimsical polite sweetheart, meet-cute in the park, fluff, playing fetch, flirting, physical affection, implied that barty’s mum is dead, wider world building that includes reader working at the valkyries welfare community centre and barty being a mechanic

Barty is incredibly proud of two things – the perfect little girl on his shoulders, and his impeccable trapezius keeping her up.

Ophelia is his sweetheart, both in the sense that he adores her more than anything in the world and that she is a literal sweetheart, kind through and through. More often than not, Barty wondered how the two of them could possibly have been cut from the same cloth, although the physical resemblance is undeniable. Her dark brown curls mix with his own from where she sits, his acid green streaks and her pink bows the only way to determine where hers starts and his ends.

There had been many potential last straws for Barty to finally ditch the Crouch family, but only when his uncle Silas birthed yet another illegitimate child and decided to just “dump this one in foster care”, did Barty throw in the towel. At that point he had only seen Ophelia once, sleeping in a bassinet, but he was already enamoured. There was just something about her that screamed for him to finally do something more than just piss his father off. Maybe it was her chubby cheeks, maybe it was how she reminded him of that picture he always treasured of his mother holding him as a baby, but that was enough for him.

He had a secure enough found family by then that he could up and leave and take the kid. He vowed that Ophelia would not have the childhood he did; she would be herself no matter who that may be. His father called him crazy, and Barty called him all sorts of names in return. His friends had their doubts, he’s sure of it, but Pandora and Evan helped him buy a flat in a safe neighbourhood on the outskirts of London, Regulus helped him get legal custody, and Dorcas taught him everything he needed to know about babies to begin with. The rest he learned along the way.

It worked, even as Ophelia quickly became a fierce personality in her own right. At just three, she was an utter angel and his whole world.

If he could say so himself, he thought he had this parent thing under control, believe it or not.

She sits on top of his shoulders as he walks the two of them through Regent’s Park – her favourite in London – while her small hands are buried in his hair to steer him as she called it, grabbing onto the green strands specifically. She’s wearing her Princess Aurora replica dress, pink and fluffy, the excess fabric spilling down his back, covering his Sex Pistols t-shirt.

They look fabulous together, thank you very much.

“Good morning, loves!” Ophelia calls and waves enthusiastically, voice melodic as it cuts through the fresh breeze. Barty turns his head ever so slightly to see the elderly couple passing them on the path, just barely catching how the man furrows his brows in surprise while the lady smiles brightly and returns the greeting.

Barty squeezes Ophelia’s plush thighs where he holds her securely, ensuring she can dance and wave on his shoulders without falling off. Her glittery blinking trainers shoot directly into his line of sight as she kicks her feet and giggles when a jogger waves at her as they pass.

“D’you want to run too, Ophie?” he asks, turning his head backwards to grin at her. 

“Yes, yes!” Ophelia wastes no time in agreeing, clutching onto Barty even tighter in preparation. “Run, horsey!”

He has never been above making a fool of himself. Barty holds onto Ophelia with his ringed fingers and begins to run along the path by the lake, keeping his back slightly bent to not jostle her as much.

Ophelia cheers, bending her head to rest it beside Barty’s for protection from the increase in wind – it makes it so that her giggles trickle directly into his ear. Barty can’t help but grin, the two of them a flash of black and pink as he gallops for the little girl.

“Dada, look, it’s a doggy!” She abruptly declares, trying to push his head sideways to look.

Barty slows down, straightening up a little to look in the direction Ophelia is trying to gesture him towards. It takes him a second, but then he spots it.

Though, while Ophelia is already squiggling to get off of his shoulders to run to greet the puppy, Barty finds himself a little preoccupied with its owner. On the open field beside the lake, a lovely, lovely woman is smiling so brightly it almost cuts him apart and compels the pieces to run towards her.

And sure, yes, she has a dog with her.

“Hello, Dada?” Ophelia’s voice pulls him out of his momentary stupor, particularly because it sounds a little softer, her earlier excitement replaced with empathy, as if sensing his distraction.

Her sweet kindness is wasted on him, so Barty squeezes her thighs once more and replies, “Yes baby, that’s a little puppy for sure. Want to go say hi?”

She grins, concern immediately forgotten as she lets go of his hair in favour of clapping her tiny hands together. “Yes please, I would very much like that, I want to say hi to the doggy.”

Barty looks back towards the one who caught his attention earlier – only to see that he had caught hers. Or, a better way of phrasing that statement, would be that Ophelia and her cheers had caught her attention.

You straighten up from where you had been scratching your dog’s head, clearly rewarding her with something, and smile warmly, albeit somewhat cautiously, as you watch the two of them approaching. You pull your dog closer to you by the collar and Barty can just barely catch you giving her a “stay” command. 

He is about to open his mouth to announce themselves, but is cut off by his little wingwoman. “Hi, love, good morning!” Ophelia greets happily. “Can I please pet your beautiful doggy?”

Any apprehension he might have scouted in your expression previously melts away as softness appears in your eyes. It feels like you’re looking at him, but he can tell you’re meeting Ophelia’s eyes.

“Of course, angel, so long as your adult agrees.” Your voice is different than he had expected it to be, your accent engulfing him. Barty finds himself disproportionately intrigued by you, but he has never been one to deny himself of interest.

Dutifully, Ophelia leans sideways to look at her father properly, making him tighten his hold on her lest she fall. Already as she begins to politely inquire if she is allowed, he is crouching down, black jeans constricting around his knees, to let her off. 

“There you go, princess,” he says as he eases her off his shoulders and onto the ground, her trainers immediately blinking in the colours of the rainbow. “Make sure to let the dog smell your hand first, ‘kay?”

He looks up to watch as you follow his movements in crouching down, sitting parallel beside your dog so that you’re on Ophelia’s level. “Hiya darling, what’s your name?” you ask sweetly.

“I am Ophelia, I am three years old,” Ophelia recites as she reaches out her hand for the dog to smell. Barty can’t tell what type of dog it is yet, but it has kind brown eyes. 

“Wow! Three is quite big,” you muse, looking over to catch Barty’s eye, sharing a moment of connection before you look back to her. “This right here is Flora, she’s just a little younger than you at 2 years old.”

Ophelia gasps. “She’s a baby!”

Barty looks down with a grin, leaning his elbows on top of his knees as he watches Flora sniff Ophelia’s hand happily before bending her neck to let his little girl scratch her.

“Oh yes, she is,” you agree in a conspiratory voice. “Who’s the adult you’ve brought with you today?”

Ophelia lights up and removes one of the hands that were buried deep in Flora’s fur to turn around slightly and point at Barty who’s sat almost directly behind her. “This is my Dada! His name is BeeBee and I’m baby.” She pronounces baby as bay-bee so that it rhymes with BeeBee.

If Barty wasn’t so damn proud of her, he might have been a bit embarrassed by his soft side being exposed to this stranger so soon. Luckily, these past three years with Ophelia has made him both softer and stronger.

“I’m Barty,” he offered, meeting your gaze with his own steady one, taking in the movement of your lips and the shine in your eyes. “I’m her father. And you are…?”

Your voice was almost breathless when you let out your name. It fit you perfectly and he found himself repeating it in a whisper.

Any time spent lingering in the moment was cut off when Ophelia loudly coos at Flora and steps closer to embrace the dog in a slightly awkward but no less adorable hug. You break out into laughter at the sight and at how Flora looks a bit concerned up at you, though making no attempts to push Ophelia away.

Barty shimmies closer to his daughter without standing back up to his full height to pull Ophelia slightly backwards and hoist her onto his knee. “Let’s give Floralita some space, alright baby, hm?” he asks, looking down at her as he makes sure she’s comfortable and still at petting-distance.

“She’s very patient, it’s alright,” you reassure him.

Ophelia seems nonplussed, smiling wildly at Barty. “Alrighty, Dada, kisses,” she declares, pressing a kiss to his cheek and then another to Flora’s head. ” Then, she gestures towards you. “Would you like a kiss too, Missy?”

Your lips part slightly and Barty prepares to protect Ophelia’s heart, but then you just cock your head sideways and nod. “Oh yes please, how kind of you baby.”

Barty finds the corner of his lips quirk upwards and his heart stutters as you lean closer, almost all the way into his and Ophelia’s embrace, so that Ophelia can stamp a sweet kiss to your cheek, making an exaggerated mwah! sound. 

You look between the both of them, warmth only slightly more reserved towards Barty than towards Ophelia. “Do you two angels have somewhere to be, or would you like to play some with Flora? I was about to have her fetch.” You add while looking at Barty, “We’re still training her, but so far she’s very well-behaved and kind.”

“I can tell,” Barty finds himself agreeing readily. He discreetly kisses Ophelia’s temple before popping her off of his knee and back onto the ground. “This angel,” he says, gesturing to Ophelia, “insisted on a park day, so that’s what her poor old man shall provide. You wanna play fetch, don’t you, Ophie?”

Ophelia nod enthusiastically while you laugh and claimc “You’re not old.”

“I’m not?” Barty raises his brow playfully. “How would you know, stranger?”

You level him with a look. “You’re clearly my age, Barty, so watch it.”

Hearing you say his name did something to him. Ophelia quickly turned the atmosphere into a comedic one when she furrows her brows and says, “No, no, Dada is old. But that’s alright! No shame in aging.”

Before either of you can really say anything, just laugh loudly, she runs forward a bit and does a cartwheel. Barty can’t tell for certain, but Flora seems wholly confused at what his little girl was doing.

You’re still laughing, your brows all scrunched up. “She is such a sweet thing, ain’t she?”

“Oh, you have no idea,” Barty agrees, standing up at last, his carabiner with his keys and Ophelia’s trinkets clinkering with his movement. 

He holds his hand out to you to help you up from where you’re still sitting on your knees, watching Ophelia spin in circles around you. For a beat, you hold his gaze, watching him tower above you. 

Barty’s heart eases when you reach out and clasp onto his hand, letting him pull you up – and if it allows him to show off all his mechanic muscles, then that was just a win-win. Your fingers linger around his wrist for a moment before you let go, colder than they ought to be on a June morning but a pleasant sensation nonetheless.

“Look at this, Ophelia.” You take off your backpack and balance it on a hiked up knee to sort through it while you’re standing. Wordlessly, Barty reaches out to hold the backpack for you so you can rummage more easily; you glance up at him briefly and mumble your thanks before fishing out the chewtoy you were looking for. You hold it up victoriously and Ophelia makes an audible sound of excitement. “C’mere lovely, let me show you.”

Barty zips the bag up for you and rests it over his shoulder as he watches you hand Flora’s toy to Ophelia. It is bright blue and sturdy, looking ridiculously large in his Ophie’s small hands. You gently explain how to throw it and what commands you will give Flora to get her to drop it once she’s come back with it.

“We call this enrichment,” you explain, eyes meeting Ophelia’s with so much patience and kindness that even Barty can feel it. “It’s how Flora relaxes and have fun. Wanna try?”

Ophelia nods, almost gravely, like she has been given a task of utmost importance. Flora sits beside you, tongue hanging out and ears perked up at the sight of her toy. 

Your hand covers Ophelia’s on the toy as you bring it backwards, ready to throw. “Then right before you throw it, you say ‘Flora, go fetch’!”

“Flora, go fetch!” Ophelia’s voice is a bit too soft spoken for the task, but with your help the toy goes flying quite far and Flora gets the gist regardless. The dog goes running at an impressive speed across the open grass and Ophelia loudly cheers and giggles.

You do this a few times, Barty watching with his hip popped sideways and the corners of his mouth perpetually twitching. This sight was more than he expected to be blessed with on their morning walk.

Eventually, Ophelia turns to you and asks, “Missy, can I go fetch as well?”

Barty snorts. You look back at him with a smile, as if asking permission, and he shrugs. “Sure thing darling, but you can’t fetch Flora’s toy or else she’ll be sad. You can go fetch this one, alright?” 

You rummage through your jacket pocket and produce a green squishy heart that looks suspiciously like a stress ball. Ophelia inspects it for less than a second before agreeing.

You get Flora to stay when you throw Ophelia’s ball, so she won’t be confused, and then you issue the same command, this time voice laced with laughter. “Alright, Ophelia, go fetch!” 

The ball goes flying in the opposite direction that Flora was chasing in, and Ophelia immediately goes running after it on her much slower, short legs, giggles flowing through the air as she goes.

Barty moves closer to you then, reaching down to pet Flora consolingly himself – although the dog is as close to smiling as a canine could get, so he’s not very concerned for her.

“Why does she call me Missy?” you ask, almost startling Barty. He turns to find a subdued smile on your face, clearly entertained by the duo you’ve met today.

“Oh, Ophie is very polite,” Barty laughs. “It’s important to her. And she’ll call everyone pet names, I think it’s her auntie’s fault. If you want her to call you something else, you can always just ask. She’s usually happy regardless.”

“She’s definitely a happy kid, yeah,” you agree. “I don’t mind it, I just found it entertaining.”

Barty looks after Ophelia, who’s caught the ball and tucked it into her dress pocket – the ones she had Dorcas sew into all her dresses – and is now cartwheeling her way back. He should get her to stop soon lest she get nauseous, but she looks too cute to intervene just yet.

“Who’s ‘we’?” Barty finds himself asking instead.

“Pardon?”

“When you talk about Flora, you say ‘we’, that ‘we’re training her’. Who’s we?” 

That most certainly was a line of questioning Barty had no business raising, but what are neglected boundaries between a pair of freshly made acquaintances? 

If you thought him inappropriate, you did a good job of concealing it as you looked down at Flora with a smile, no doubt catching sight of Barty’s tattooed knuckles rubbing behind her ear.

“Flora here is an Emotional Support Animal at this community centre I help out at,” you begin to explain, a faraway look entering your eyes, one that is full of pride. “We collaborate with a nearby shelter – you might know it, Kettleburns’? Anyway, we have some puppy love events at the centre every now and again for those who need to destress and use it as an opportunity to find new homes for the pups. And sometimes, when we find very good girls like Flora here, we adopt them ourselves. She’s my colleague Mary’s, actually.”

Barty watches you speak with a rapture that belies him. “I never would have guessed that, that’s bloody beautiful.”

“What, I don’t look like a good contributing citizen to you?” That eyebrow of yours is back up, taunting him in a way he hopes is as humoured as it feels.

“On the contrary, you’re clearly a natural with the little princess,” he says, looking over at Ophelia who stopped to smell the flowers, “I just had no idea the nearby community would mobilise like that. Thought I oughta heard of a centre like yours.”

You cross your arms, looking almost shy. “Yeah, marketing’s not our strong suit, but most of the nearby neighbourhoods know of us at least, which is the most important. You know, local efforts and all of that?”

“Yeah,” Barty breathes out. 

He’s about to ask, but you beat him to it – which makes it all the more promising. “I mean, if you’d like, you and Ophelia would be more than welcome to drop by. Everyone’s welcome. We’re open 8 AM to 8 PM most days.”

A proper smile blooms on his face. “And you?”

“What about me?” you ask, looking almost mischievous.

He turns his body properly towards you. “Are you there most days?”

You shrug, failing at looking noncommittal, what with the wide smile on your face. “Yeah, you’re bound to catch me.”

“That we will,” Barty states, and it’s most certainly a promise. He fishes his phone out of his pocket and holds it out, so that you can write down the address for him.

When he looks at the phone you returned to him, he sees the address written down beneath the name of the community centre.

“Valkyries Welfare, huh?” He looks up at you, relishing in the scrunching up of your cheeks.

“Hey, I didn’t name it,” you defend, holding up your hands. “I’m just the help!”

“No, no, it’s a good name–” He begins to explain through a laugh.

Before he can, he catches sight of Ophelia’s last cartwheel on her way up to the two of you and acts on his dad-instincts to crouch down and catch her now slightly dizzy body. She giggles heartily as she stumbles into him, her whole chest rumbling in a way that warms Barty’s.

“That was so much fun!” she exclaims through heavy breaths. “We simply must play fetch more often.”

He kisses the side of her head while looking up at you. “Gotcha, sweetheart.”

Ophelia straightens up enough to look up at you with a toothy smile. “Here you go, Missy!” She unfurls your stress ball from her pocket, taking a second to rub some dirt off it with the bottom of her dress skirt. Then, from her other pocket – yes, she insisted on two – she procures a handful of small flowers, just barely long enough to constitute a small bouquet. “For you!”

You let out a sweet sound, dropping down to a crouching position beside them once more, mimicking your earlier meeting. Flora lays down in the grass and begins rolling back and forth happily. “Are these for me?” you ask, almost breathless.

“Of course, love,” Ophelia declares kindly, holding them out more aggressively towards you to ensure you get them.

Gently, you pry them from her fingers, pulling a thin hair tie off your wrist to wrap the stems together and pop them in the breast pocket of your jacket so that the flowers poke out. You smile at them and then at her. “Thank you so much, Ophelia, that was very thoughtful and kind of you.”

Barty rarely sees his daughter grow shy – one thing they have in common is their unabashed, sometimes boisterous portrayals of themselves – but he did notice how pink her cheeks grew when she smiled at your compliment. 

“It was so lovely to meet you both,” you say then, putting your hands on your knees. 

That makes Ophelia’s smile drop. “You’re leaving?”

Barty leans his forehead against the top of her head for a few seconds to quench the emotions she always managed to stir up in him. You pout in a way that signals you may understand his struggle.

“Yes baby, I’m sorry. Flora and I have to get back to work.”

“Darn work,” Ophelia mutters, shaking her head like she is intimately aware of the struggle of labour. It brings a loue bark of laughter from Barty, making him throw his head back and crush his little girl closer to his chest.

You giggle as well, reaching out to pinch Ophelia’s chin to brighten her mood. “You be a good girl to your dad alright, and I’ll hopefully see you soon.”

“Yes please, and I will,” Ophelia agrees readily, nodding her head. “May I hug you goodbye, Missy?”

Barty studies the emotion on your face as you open your arms to his girl and give her a kind hug. It was the kind of compassion he would never expect from a stranger. When you pull back, you meet his gaze and smile a little wider.

He hoists Ophelia back up on his shoulders and hand you your backpack.

“Oh wow, I had forgotten you were holding this,” you laugh.

That makes him feel sweller than he had any right being. He nods at you, holding onto Ophelia’s hand with one of his and waving you goodbye with the other.

“Have fun, Miss Valkyrie, we’ll see you around.”

You stand with one hand on top of Flora and the other holding your elbow, seemingly forcing your grin down into a smile. “Bye Bee-Bee and baby,” you tease in return.

As Ophelia’s chatter turns over onto other subjects and her giggles trail behind the two of them as they walk the rest of Regent’s Park, Barty finds himself itching to look back over his shoulder. The second the two of them got home, he found himself googling Valkyries Welfare.

It was just for Ophie’s sake, of course.

[yasministration]

Sleeping beauty au m.list

ˋ°•*⁀➷ navigation

꩜ smut ❀ fluff 𖤓 angsty/angry 𖤐 funny

✩ Sleeping beauty - reader stumbles into the common room after a long night of ‘sleep’… the marauders try discovering who she spent the night with. (𖤐) ✩ charmed - you and regulus have more going on than just a one night stand (❀) ✩ infatuated - your relationship with regulus pulls him and one of your best friends, sirius black, closer together for the first time in years (❀)