Hi! I've Been Imagining This A Lot Lately, So I'd Like To Request An Imagine Where Timmy Is In His Apartment

Hi! I've been imagining this a lot lately, so I'd like to request an imagine where Timmy is in his apartment and plays Bob Dylan songs on his guitar, based on his latest Instagram Stories in which he's at James Mangold's place - and I've been listening to "I Want You" a lot, so I'd really like to see an imagine where Chalamet sings Dylan :)

hi!! loveee love love this song, and i also got a different req for timothée playing guitar so i've combined the two! hope this is okay 💗

i want you

“mmhm, i missed you too,” timothée smiles into the kiss in the doorway, your eagerness making him giggle as you kick the door shut and grab the neck of his guitar case, using it to pull him quickly down the hall and into the living room. tumbling onto the carpet together, he sits cross legged and you kneel up to move forwards, to close the distance between you.

“why’d you take you so long getting home?” you mumble between kisses, his lips chapped and warm against yours.

he moans softly, tilting his head for more access. “because i’m a stupid, stupid man.”

all wandering hands, you missed him today. these long shoot days have forced you to be patient, to wait for him, to know that what you're waiting for is worth it.

“but i’m quitting tomorrow,” he adds bluntly at the swipe of your tongue against his neck. you snicker, sucking a mark just behind his ear, easily hideable beneath those wild curls.

coyly, you bite your lip, both hands sliding up his hoodie, tugging the drawstrings closer until you’re in his lap. “hmm and you’re going to make it up to me?”

“fuck, yes,” he breathes, a soft noise escaping his throat when you hook your legs around his waist, pressing your chest against his.

grinding yourself gently against his crotch, his hands glide up the back of your shirt, nails digging deliciously into your skin until—

“great! then let’s get started, baby,” you chirp, scrambling off his lap and unzipping the guitar case.

timothée’s mouth hangs open, pink, swollen lips agape as he not so subtly shifts his hips against the tightness of his jeans.

dumbstruck and betrayed, he gapes at you for several seconds, his brain stuck in a haze entirely revolving around the curve of your ass against his—

“uhh, what just happened?” he splutters, cheeks flushed and pupils blown as he watches you place his guitar on your lap, fingers delicate as they tap over the strings. “are you kidding me?”

“what?” you smile innocently, teasingly brushing your fingers against the fretboard.

“you are wicked,” he whinges, throwing his head back with his eyes squeezed shut.

you scoot closer, biting back laughter as you slide your hand up and down the guitar neck.

he opens his eyes and groans loudly, staring up at the ceiling.

“wicked,” he scorns over your laughter, scrubbing both hands over his face as he squirms.

“you did say you’d teach me something tonight,” you pout, one hand reaching out to rest on his thigh.

“i will, but not when you’re all the way over there,” he growls, pulling you clumsily back into his lap and oh, this may be a much harder lesson than you anticipated.

back to his chest, you wriggle around just because you can, just because you’re not comfortable yet, timmy, just because those sounds he makes are too pretty not to coax out over and over again.

timothée inhales sharply, sinking his teeth just below your earlobe to muffle his moans.

“honey, you’re killing me,” he grunts, wrapping his arms around your waist to reach the strings in front of you.

he strums loudly, the vibrations from the guitar making you squirm involuntarily in his lap.

“shit, yn,” his voice is hoarse beside your ear, like he’s barely hanging on. “if you keep doing that you’ll learn nothing. because i’ll be dead. because, again, you’re killing me.”

you roll your eyes, wiggling your hips and chuckling when he grumbles.

“it’s not my fault it feels so good,” you explain, rocking your hips to the rhythm he plays.

timothée chuckles, burying his face in your neck as he starts to sing softly:

how does it feel? how does it feel?

to be without a home? like a complete unknown?

like a rolling st—

“shhhhh,” you cover his mouth with your palm, “different song.”

he furrows his eyebrows, swaying you both from side to side while his fingers dance around a riff. “hm?”

“i have a home,” you say simply, reaching back to tug his curls. you turn slightly to meet his eyes. “and i am known. you know me.”

timothée kisses your forehead, heart soaring in his chest. he links his fingers with yours, kissing the back of your hand before deftly leading them back over the strings.

“so the song needs to be accurate?” he clarifies, playing with your fingers.

you nod, fiddling with the dainty bracelet on his wrist.

he shapes your hands into chords, a beautiful progression filling the apartment.

“i want you,” he sings a different melody against your neck. “i want you so bad.”

“is this an original song?” you giggle, pushing your ass back a little and taking pleasure in the way it makes his voice strain.

“honey, i want you,” timothée noses at your cheek, making those all too familiar butterflies flutter their wings.

you turn your head to chase his lips, teeth clashing into the kiss.

“i want you,” he hums, fingers still over yours, the tempo he controls slowing, slowing, slowing, as his mouth meets yours languidly, tenderly.

“i want you,” he murmurs against your lips, “honey, i want you.”

“i want you so bad,” you whisper, leaning your head back on his shoulder.

he picks the final notes mellifluously and they shimmer around the room, soft, sweet, as light as his touch when he spins you in his lap, carrying you and the guitar into the bedroom.

☆ page-turner (r.a.b.)

— trying to read your book whilst sat in regulus' lap proves a harder task than you first thought

+ contains: smut, fingering (f!recieving), edging, teasing, praise

+ nsfw — minors please dni

"that's it, darling," regulus coos, his chin resting on your shoulder. "keep going."

you're sat in his lap, your back flush to his chest with your legs spread wide as you clutch your book with white-knuckles. his fingers expertly slip in and out of you, his thumb deftly working at your clit in an intoxicating combination that makes your mind cloudy.

regulus has made the rules of this exchange pretty clear: you stop reading, he stops moving.

at first, you had thought he was merely teasing, wanting to see just how far he could push you. but when you had first dropped your book, head falling back against his shoulder to let out a shaky moan, he had pulled his fingers out instantly with a reprimanding tsk. it was only when you started up again, voice shaking and cracking around the words, that regulus resumed his prior motions.

every now and then, he curls his fingers up to press against your g-spot, a wicked glint in his eye as he watches you stumble over the current piece of dialogue you're reading

"reg, please-" you breathe, eyes screwed shut as you feel your orgasm slowly build. the muscles in your stomach tighten, and in an effort to finish faster, you grind down onto his fingers.

"ah, ah," regulus hums, using his free hand to cup your cheek and redirect your face towards your now forgotten book. "told you, love. have to keep going. y'doing so well for me."

you're so close that if he stopped now, you're sure tears will escape your eyes and roll down your cheeks, a pathetic display of desperation. your only option is to continue reading.

the words become blurry as you fight to keep your eyes open, and you're only half sure that whatever you're saying is even comprehensible as you stumble through paragraph after paragraph.

all it takes is the pad of regulus' thumb swiping over your clit particularly roughly for you to see white. your book hits the floor with a thump, drowned out by the sounds of your moans and mumbled thanks. regulus holds your hips as you writhe in his lap, pressing kisses to your shoulder as you come down from your climax, all the while muttering praise and compliments.

"did so well, love," he hums, kissing your temple. "wanna see how well you can focus w'my cock in you, now."

can u do a fez smut of him wanting to eat the reader out?

⚠️ english isn't my first language

It was late at night. Ashtray was already sleeping, he didn't even get to finish the movie you three were watching and it seemed like you weren't going to finish it either. Fezco was topping you, one of his hands under your body grabbing your hip to keep you close and one of his knees occasionally brushing against your pussy. You broke the kiss to catch your breathe. Fezco gave you a peck. Two. Three. Four. Five. You smiled against his lips, enjoying those quick and wet kisses he was giving you. His lips moved to your cheek, leaving yours wanting more of him. He kissed your cheekbone and finally got to your neck. He took his time there; kissing it, licking it, even giving it soft bites. You let out some cutes "oh..." and some giggles. It felt so nice. His beard tickling those sensitive parts of your body and his hands roaming all over your hips, waist, and tummy.

You were surprised when his lips kept going down on your body, now focusing on your collarbone. It was surprising because he's never gone any further than the lower part of your neck.

"What are you doing?" You giggled trying to get his attention.

"I wanna eat you out." He stopped kissing your body and looked directly into your eyes. "I mean... if that's okay with yo'."

Always so cute. You nodded, grabbing him by his neck and making him kiss your lips again. The kiss was different now, messier and definitely wetter than before. Fezco repeated with zero complaints the trail of kisses he left before, enjoying every centimeter of your body. He went from your collarbone to your belly, asking you by raising his eyebrows if it was okay for him to lift your shirt. You gave him the permission he needed and his lips started working his way down your belly until he reached the waistband of your pajama pants.

You lifted your hips and Fezco dragged your pants off. "Cute." You heard Fez whisper when he saw your panties. He placed his head between your legs, millimeters away from your wet core and he took one of your legs, pushing it up and hooking your ankle over his shoulder. He kissed the inside of your thigh, practically devouring it. He bit the soft skin of it, making you whimper, and moved his lips along that part of your leg until he got to your groin.

"You good?" He was the kindest man you've ever been with, you smiled at him and nodded as you got comfortable on the couch. " 'K this has to go..." Fezco dragged your underwear off, leaving you completely exposed to him. "You guide me." He said before he started kissing your folds. You gasped feeling his mouth really close to your clit. Fezco knew what he was doing, it's not like he has had this enormous amount of partners before you, but he knew how to satisfice you. After seeing how desperate you were and when he finally had enough of teasing you, he licked from your hole to your clit, collecting all your juices and finally reaching where you needed him most.

Fezco started giving kitten licks to your clit, and even though you tried to be quiet all this time, it was impossible anymore. "Go faster please, Fez..." He did as you said, using his tongue so expertly. And he was so good at it, making every right movement with it to leave you breathless. Your chest moving up and down trying to catch some air.

"Is it good?" You nodded letting out a suffocated "yes." Instead of licking at it, Fezco began to suck on your clit making you arch your back and throw your hand to your mouth to silence your moans. His name left your mouth repeatedly, every time he sucked on your clit you felt closer to your climax.

"I'm gonna cum, I'm gonna cum Fez..." Your hands now went to the back of his head, bringing him even closer. Your legs shook and squeezed his head between your thighs as you came on his mouth. Fezco watched you come with his big blue eyes, literally amazed at how your body reacted to him. It felt so sweet, you capturing his head between your thighs, but it was even sweeter the way you tasted.

hiii can i request a jealous!regulus x reader where they are together but not really because they had a fight and haven’t talked in a week but there’s a party (slytherin common room bc they won a quidditch game) and reader is getting drunk and some guy (anyone but barty and evan, and snape obviously) comes up to her and starts to flirt and regulus sees that and gets super jealous so he steps in and gets all possessive

hi thank you so much for the request lovely <3

I have such a weak spot for possessive regulus it's unreal 😫

Possessive

It had been a week. One very long, very silent week ever since you and your boyfriend, Regulus Black, fought. The argument was about something ridiculous, something minor that you couldn't even fathom to remember, but nevertheless you were stubborn, you refused to be the bigger, the more mature person and apologise to establish peace once more. Regulus was just as stubborn, perhaps more.

He would leave the room whenever you entered, he would change his usual seat in classes so he was not sat with you, he would do everything and anything in his attempt to make you succumb to his game and apologise weakly.

You knew his weakness however; it was obvious in the way that no matter what he did, what you did, his eyes of harsh blue would stare at you with a gaze that showed too much, showed his love for you, his care for you, but most of all, his unwilling desire to do anything for you.

So Regulus could act cold and distant all he wanted, but you knew that it was just that - an act.

The green walls and wooden floors thumped with the beat of the music as pure debauchery took place.

Parties after the Slytherin team won in Quidditch had created a reputation of being completely unpredictable, a scandal amongst the school. Anything could happen at these celebrations; anyone could drink too much, anyone could break the delicate and expensive decorations, anyone could fuck the wrong person in a completely wrong place.

Who could blame these Slytherins, their victories were things to be noted in history, with Regulus Black the centre focus.

It was thanks to him that the team would walk away with a trophy, and this time was no different.

You knew how quick and agile he was with a broom, you knew how focused he could be, how competitive the boy is.

However, you did not see the victory, did not watch the game. Much to Regulus' dismay, you were not in the stands with his initials painted on your cheeks in green and black, cheering louder than anyone else.

But you did show up for the party.

Of course, you wouldn't miss it, it was the party everybody longed for. You still wouldn't speak to him, not even sparing a glance his way. Yet his eyes were glued onto you, onto your tight-fitting clothes, onto your dark makeup, onto your devilish smile. Yes, he could pretend he did not care all he want, could act as if he was listening to Barty and Evan talking and joking next to him, but you knew he was wrapped around your finger, and deep down, he knew it too.

It had been an hour since you initially arrived, and all the alcohol you have downed easily had been slowly catching up to you. You had been growing tipsy, and Regulus was monitoring you to make sure you would not do anything you would regret in the morning.

Like talk to the pervert who had been staring you up and down all night with a gross smirk on his face.

Regulus knew him, unfortunately. Graham Peake. He knew that the boy had always been desperate to kiss you, to touch you. He wouldn't get the chance. He would never even know what it felt like to have your soft lips on his. Nobody else would ever know the feeling except Regulus Arcturus Black.

Graham had wrapped his hand around your upper arm, that stupid smirk remaining on his face as you turned around to face the stranger.

"Hi." He spoke, and you immediately rolled your eyes.

"Hi." You murmured back, taking another sip of your drink.

"You look very nice tonight." Graham grinned as if it was supposed to make you weak in the knees, but it couldn't, it would hilariously never.

You were getting a bit too tipsy to register how close he had gotten to you, only focused on Regulus and whatever he had disappeared to.

"Where's your boyfriend?" Graham tilted his head, sliding his hand slowly down your arm.

You shrugged, taking another sip of your drink whilst the boy opposite you only smirked wider.

"Hm, maybe I should take care of you tonight then?"

"Maybe you should leave her alone." Regulus appeared behind you with an intimidating glare, his jaw clenched as he stared down Graham.

"Oh, Regulus, I uh-"

"Wait, excuse me, let me fix my wording," Regulus shoved the cowering boy away, creating much-needed distance.

"Fuck. Off." He didn't usually swear, having been taught about how much of an abysmal habit it is to swear, but he only swore when he was really angry. He was a very polite person, so when Regulus Black swore, it never led to anything good.

Graham seemed to be frozen in place, shocked at how quick the situation unfolded in front of him. Regulus only raised an eyebrow and the coward hurried away, apologising profusely to you and Regulus as he walked away.

You smirked when you felt Regulus' hand rub your shoulder.

"Are you-"

"You know, you're cute when you're jealous." You turned around and wrapped your arms around his neck, beaming proudly whilst Regulus scoffed.

"I'm not jealous." He wrapped his arms around your waist in a possessive hold.

"Yes you are." You bit your lip as you leaned closer to the boy.

"Why would I be jealous of that idiot?" He spat, glaring at said idiot as Graham was sat hunched over by the fireplace.

"Hmm, maybe because you haven't talked to me all week?" You muttered, but Regulus heard, given how close the two of you were.

"You haven't talked to me either." Regulus pointed out as you pouted.

"I didn't talk to you 'cause you avoided me." You practically gave him puppy-dog eyes, knowing that it would make him surrender to the game he had created in the first place, drawing up the white flag.

Regulus sighed before he spoke.

"I'm sorry."

You grinned and pecked his cheek.

"I forgive you."

He smiled only slightly before returning his harsh gaze onto Graham.

"You know that you have nothing to worry about, right?" You caught his attention once more, Regulus staring at you with a loving gaze.

"I'm yours. Completely and utterly yours."

The boy grinned at that, not an arrogant grin but a smile of pride, of satisfaction.

"I know." He answered, pecking your forehead as you nuzzled his neck.

"I know just as much that I'm yours. Always have been." Regulus spoke softly as you tilted your head up and leaned in for a kiss.

He gave in, and kissed you passionately, grinning into the kiss as he knew Graham was watching pathetically.

⠀ 𝝑𝑒 ⠀⠀ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒. you’re heavily pregnant with sukuna’s child and so desperately need to have your specific pregnancy cravings: mangoes. when you realise you’re out of them, you turn into an emotional mess.

tags. true form!sukuna x wife!female reader. fluff, sfw. pregnancy. size difference (reader referred to as small). reader gets called ‘woman, brat’ wc: 1.8k

you’re crying in your chambers, the volume of your cries overshadowing sukuna’s arrival at the estate. you hiccup and sniffle as you sit in the corner of the master bedroom. there really doesn’t seem to be an end to your mental breakdown.

you’re prone to mood changes because of your pregnancy, already being seven months along. your belly is as round as a globe as it sticks out from under your kimono.

you hold onto your lower abdomen while mumbling to yourself. “not fair,” you rub your blurry eyes with your free hand.

the bedroom doors suddenly swing open. you lift your head from your knees and make eye contact with your husband who looks rather . . . upset. more upset than you are at the moment, that’s for sure.

you whimper as his big and intimidating stature dwarfs over yours while you’re stuck in the corner. when you look up at him, you cry even louder. seeing that familiar face after two whole days of suffering in this place alone gets you even more emotional.

after sukuna entered the room, his gaze had immediately fell upon your quivering figure. he raises an eyebrow as you cry louder once you spot him, the sound breaking his ear drums. he lets out a sharp exhale, a hint of annoyance seeping into his tone.

“enough with the tears,” sukuna grumbles as he crosses the room in a few long strides. his presence is both imposing and protective as he looms over your small figure.

his eyes flicker over your body—taking in the sight of your round belly. he can’t deny that the view makes his shoulders relax, relieved to see his wife do well after two days without seeing you.

sukuna kneels down before you, his eyes narrowing as he notices the tears running down your cheeks. who knows how long you’ve been sobbing? the realisation that no one has checked on you while you’ve been crying like this irks him.

the king of curses will make sure that every single servant - and especially the ones assigned to you - pay for not noticing your sour mood sooner.

“damn it, woman,” sukuna curses under his breath, his words laden with both irritation and a sense of concern, “what’s gotten into you now, hmm? why the blubbering mess?"

you hiccup, gasping for air as sukuna kneels down to your level, something he rarely does. one of his hands reach out to wipe a tear from your cheek, his expression stoic and unreadable while he does so.

“welcome home,” you utter, remembering to greet him properly. you wipe your own tears away and try to explain the situation without it sounding absurd. “i—i went down to the kitchen to get som-something,” you stammer, trying to spit it out before sukuna’s irritation spikes.

“but they didn’t have the food i craved—they’re out of mangoes,” your wailing starts again just at the thought of your non existent fruit. it felt like the most devastating moment in your life when the maids told you that they were out of mangoes.

sukuna’s annoyance quickly dissolves upon hearing your explanation. the revelation that you’re crying over mangoes seems so unbelievable, so absurd, that he couldn't help but let out a dry huff of laughter. an amused smirk tugs at the corners of his lips.

the pink haired man brushes the remnants of the tears away from your face. his rough fingers pause at your chin, giving it a light tap. “mangoes, huh? y’re out here bawling y’r fucking eyes out like a baby for some damn mangoes?”

despite his tough exterior, sukuna knows that pregnancy hormones often amplified emotions, making even the smallest things a cause for crying. and right now, you’re stressing and sputtering over some mangoes.

“mangoes,” you nod and cry softly, watching as sukuna rubs your cheeks with his manly fingers, enjoying his rough touch. you easily guess by just the increased toughness of his calluses that your husband has worked hard while he was gone.

though, mangoes are your current pregnancy craving and not having them meant war to you. it’s all you can focus on—even if your beloved sukuna is right in front of you.

“i need them,” you whine and pout. your hormones made it difficult for you to calm down.

you do, however, try your best to stop crying. you clean your face with the sleeve of your kimono and bite on your bottom lip to refrain from bawling your eyes out for the nth time. “i want my mangoes,” your voice is hoarse as you glance up at sukuna, “please?”

sukuna hates to admit it, but his expression softens upon hearing the hoarse tone of your pleading voice. the view of your tear-streaked face and the knowledge that you’re experiencing pregnancy cravings makes it difficult for him to maintain his usual firm demeanor.

the king of curses sighs, his annoyance replaced by a reluctant acceptance of your plight. “tsk, damn it,” he mutters, lazily resting his head against the palm of one of his hands, “y’re really gonna make me fetch you some mangoes?”

here you are, a grown woman crying and begging like a kid for a sweet, juicy mango. he’s seen you in many states - happy, sad, tired, excited - but never quite as emotionally overwhelmed just for a piece of fruit. sukuna’s large hand reaches out to pat your head in a surprisingly gentle manner, a rare display of his softer side.

you pout at sukuna and lean into his touch as he pats your head. you come up with something witty to say, as you always do. “well, you’re the one who got me pregnant,” you comment in a teasing way, sticking your tongue out at your husband.

no matter what sour mood you’re in, you can still be sassy. though it doesn’t last long before your bottom lip trembles again. “i can’t do anything about it. the baby craves mangos,” you whine as you rub your baby bump to emphasise your words.

you are eating for two people after all—for you and the baby.

sukuna’s smirk widened at your retort and the playful gesture. even in your distraught state, you had the audacity to sass him. damn cheeky little woman.

the pink-haired man chuckled darkly, his hand clumsily ruffling your hair again before pulling away. “‘n i don’t regret a thing. even if i gotta put up with y’r cranky ass.”

you roll your eyes at sukuna’s reply. you know you’re an emotional mess, but you couldn’t care less. anything for your mangoes—those juicy ones that you could eat a dozen of in one sitting.

“the maids said that the mangoes were out of stock in the towns ‘nd villages nearby,” you continue while you carefully stand up from the corner. you’re trying your best to stay rational. you’re extremely hungry and haven’t eaten ever since breakfast. that’s how stubborn you are being.

“but i’m hungryyyyy. want my mangoes,” you sigh and nearly stomp your feet out of frustration.

“yeah, yeah—fuckin’ hell,” sukuna groans, watching you slowly stand up, your pregnant belly protruding like a perfect sphere. it’s a constant reminder of the effect he has on you, and somehow, it makes him proud.

he helps you stand up by holding onto your arm, sharp eyes focused on your body to make sure you don’t strain a single muscle.

after you manage to stand up straight, you walk with sukuna to the kitchen to find something to eat—perhaps some other fruit will satisfy your cravings for now.

sukuna follows behind you, his steps long and leisurely while your shorter strides keep the pace with him. as the two of you walked towards the kitchen, he continues to listen to your repeated mantra. it’s driving him insane.

“mangoes, mangoes, mangoes. i get it, brat,” the king of curses swears he can feel the vein in his forehead throb. you’re lucky that he . . . tolerates you as his wife.

it’s something more than just ‘tolerating’ you, of course. but openly admitting to loving you, even in the slightest, is something sukuna would never do.

if someone would ask him why he goes the extra mile for you, his answer would be that it’s simply because you’re carrying his heir. however only sukuna knows the full truth, the sappy secret he’ll forever keep to himself.

before you arrive at the kitchen, you bump into uraume. they glance from sukuna to you and bow. “good day,” they greet you with as much respect as they do to sukuna. they’ve been doing so ever since you gained your title as his wife.

the king of curses folds all four of his arms over his chest. his lower pair of eyes are still focused on your impatient self, shifting your weight from one foot to the other. he just knows you’re holding yourself back from asking for your active pregnancy craving again.

sukuna clicks his tongue and nods his head at you while he speaks to uraume. “keep an eye on her while ‘m gone. feed her what she wants,” he says in his deep voice, his tone commanding and firm.

uraume remains quiet for a second. sukuna had recently came back from a mission and is once again heading out for some ambiguous reason, but they know better than to question their master.

“where are you going, hubby?”

you of course, get a free pass. you don’t hesitate at all before questioning your husband. sukuna scoffs when he hears your voice ask him that in such an oblivious manner. you should’ve known where he was departing to.

“where’d you think, smartass?” he pinches your nose, causing you to swat his fingers away out of instinct. he gives up on your nose and moves to squeeze your cheeks together in a gentle yet firm manner.

you huff at his antics. sukuna grins at your frown and pout before releasing your jawline with a faint push.

“you better hold on ‘til i come back with y’r stupid mangoes,” he scoffs while turning around to walk to the entrance, “and when i do, i don’t wanna hear ‘nother squeak, understood?”

sukuna seems to have made another mission for himself; find his heavily pregnant wife mangoes before she goes absolutely insane.

your face lights up and you nod repeatedly. your heart melts when you realise that sukuna is actually putting effort to satisfy your needs. he may be harsh and stern at times, but his actions speak louder than his words.

“okay! love you, ‘kuna!” you call out to your lover while he disappears behind the gates. as expected, your words are met by silence.

that’s fine with you. not hearing an ‘i love you’ back doesn’t hurt you as much as it did at the start of you relationship.

you know sukuna cherishes you in his own special way. if he didn’t, you’d be dead long time ago. on top of that, he would not go out on a hunt for mangoes right after coming back home if he didn’t like you.

you know sukuna would let the world burn for you.

REGULUS BLACK | 21:08 — HOLD HER!

SUM : after a boggart class, you rush to Regulus for comfort. The only thing is… the grumpy slytherin doesn’t really know how to comfort someone. Thankfully James is there.  

TAGS. : grumpy regulus ; sunshine reader ; gryffindor reader ; sunshine character seeking comfort in grumpy character trope ; remus approval secured ; sirius needs some convincing ; regulus needs a hug ; but reader needs it more in this fic ; regulus not wanting to admit stuff ; regulus sucks at emotions ; james being a lowkey but loud and panicky wingman ; protective james ; protective regulus 

LENGTH : 1.2k

PART 0.5 (PREQUEL)

“What. The. Fuck…” Sirius exclaims only to receive a hit upside the head by Remus who also pins him with a warning glare, “What?!” the eldest Black brother shouts and gestures to the unbelievable display happening before them, “Shouldn’t you be the one demanding answers? Usually she goes to you for this!”

Instead of answering him, Remus fixes an unreadable stare onto the scene happening before him; trying his hardest to suppress the smile tugging at his lips. Finally his suspicions were confirmed and he was happy to witness its conclusion. It was about time. 

Yes, he was the person you typically sought comfort from when distressed and he was more than happy to be that person for you, however, he’s seen your longing glances and has witnessed many of the one-sided conversations you’ve had with the silent, grumpy slytherin — who was the complete opposite of you in demeanour and attitude. It’s an interesting sight seeing you constantly approach him with your bright smile, sweet face and sparkling eyes, a contrast to his notorious emotionless and cold disposition.

Some people who’ve also witnessed your interactions with Regulus Black couldn’t understand why you were so persistent when he barely said a word back and scarcely showed any interest in return to your friendly advances. They thought you were crazy but you were so bubbly and sweet with everyone, they assumed that it’s just a part of your nature to approach even those who were deemed unapproachable. 

And Regulus Black is unapproachable. To everyone — except you.

Regulus never understood you. 

Usually, whenever someone brave enough to approach him started conversation, they would get so turned off by his aloofness that they would cut the interaction short and move on. Those that continued to persist, received a glare and offensive remark, which finally shook them off and out of his personal space. 

But you. 

You love his personal space. He couldn’t so-easily push you away like the others. Your tenacity rivalled the stubbornness of a bull — it was quite admirable. You weren’t deterred by his aloofness nor his ice-cold glare and snide remark. Secretly he was grateful. He’s grown to love your company (though he’d never say it out loud) ever since you shot down his attempt at forcing distance between the two of you. 

“Why would you say that? That’s so mean,” your pout was adorable, “and stop trying to look scary,” you poke your finger between his brows and ease the creases in his skin from his glare, “it doesn’t work when you have such a pretty face,”

Pretty…

You love calling him that, although he’d argue that the flattering term suited you much more than him. Growing up, he was told to despise Gryffindors; his brother was the only exception until you came along with your pretty smile, pretty eyes, pretty nose, pretty hair, pretty voice, pretty lips — pretty everything! 

…he’d never admit it out loud, however. 

He’d never admit a lot of things out loud when it came to you. Maybe that’s why he hardly said anything when you were around him. At least he doesn’t scowl as much anymore, he just holds a blank stare whilst trying to stop a smile from taking over his face.

He likes listening to you a lot more than he does anyone else and appreciates your company very much, even if it’s just to listen to you talk about your day and all the things you’ve done; how you loved the omelette they served for breakfast, how you really wanted to learn how to ride a broom but were terrified of heights, how your favourite subject was astrology and eagerly waited for each lesson, how you love his company and being close to him. 

He loves it too, being close to you. You’re warm and soft and he loves your fragrance. Surprisingly, it’s not as sickly sweet as he’d once imagined (and dreaded). Rather, you smelled perfectly floral with a hint of piquant spice that was unique to you. It wasn’t intoxicating, instead, it was calming and Regulus was addicted to the peace you were able to bring into his chaotic life, a life that remained jumbled with no help from his Gryffindor brother, his only brother, someone he still deeply but silently adored.  

Regulus appreciated you for being able to give him regular updates on his estranged brother since you were pretty good friends with the Marauders. You were especially close to Remus, which you admitted was due to his level-headedness and calmness. You explained to him that being around such stolid characters were comforting to you because their presence was reassuring. Regulus didn’t understand your reasoning. Although it could be because a creeping jealousy had coloured his eyes green for the tall brunette he had never had the pleasure of officially meeting. Nevertheless, it answered his question on why you so often gravitated towards Remus, especially when distressed. 

So… why were you desperately clinging to him when Remus was just across the courtyard?

James was in a frenzy. He had been worried ever since this morning. Ever since meeting you, he had grown to see you as his younger sister and with that, came a an urge to protect you from all things physical and intangible. Therefore, it was only natural for his senses to flood with worry as soon as you mentioned ‘boggart’ over your a plate of your favourite omelette at breakfast. You were going to have your boggart lesson for DADA today. 

Consumed by worry, James had rushed to the courtyard as soon as morning classes were over and desperately searched the crowd for you. Remus tried to assure him, confident in your courage as a fellow Gryffindor but that wasn’t enough to quell his anxiety for your condition. 

His apprehension was for good reason, it seemed, because for the first time ever! There were tears in your eyes. You were crying. You were sad. Sad enough to sob in someone’s arms. In Regulus Black’s arms!

“WhAt ARe yOU DoING?!” James shouts, his voice cracking and fluctuating from his panicked state as his hands grip and pull at his untamed locks. 

For the first time ever, Regulus stutters, “I-I—…uhh!” 

James’ eyes widen at Regulus’ shaking hands, hanging suspended in the air, his fingers twitching slightly from his hesitation and inexperience with comforting someone, “YOU IDIOT!” only James Potter would have the nerve to call Regulus Black an ‘idiot’.

In his eyes, James was watching his precious baby sister, who he loves to pieces, sob into the arms of someone she wanted comfort from but had no clue how to comfort her, “HOLD HER!” James demands, “HURRY!” 

Finally…FINALLY Regulus hugs you back, one hand on the back of your head to softly pet your hair down as his other circles around your waist and pulls you close. He feels you sob into his shoulder as your shaking hands cling onto the back of his button up shirt. When he focuses on your trembling sobs and usually sorrowful form, an ache takes hold of his heart and he finds himself clinging onto you. 

You don’t deserve to cry. You’re far too precious and sweet to deserve experiencing such distress. Whoever did this to you, once he finds the culprit, will have hell to pay…

As soon as you feel the secure squeeze of Regulus’ arms around you, your shaking sobs slowly reduce to pitiful hiccups and faint sniffles. Beside your ear, Regulus whispers soft, kind assurances and you’ve never felt so safe. It escapes you that Regulus was actually speak to you instead of the other way around. 

“It’s okay, my flower…” your heart leaps in your chest, “you’re going to be okay; I’m here for you,” 

A/N : i had this idea and parts of it written ages ago and rediscovered it while i was on holiday — finally! i got to finish it haha! i hope you lovelies enjoy, this turned out better than i originally imagined it to go 

NAVI. | PART 0.5

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