Crystals | R.b.

crystals | r.b.

regulus black x whimsical!reader

“Baby,” Regulus’ voice comes out two parts affection and one part exasperation as he feels your knees pressing down into the bed on either side of him. You hum distractedly in response, mind wandering to places he knows he can never follow.

He cracks his eyes open, a small smile involuntarily making its way onto his face at the sight of you. You’re as pretty as you always are, so pretty he wonders if you’re actually a dryad of some sort. You certainly look the part, with daisies braided into your hair and miniature toadstool earrings.

He watches as you outstretch your fingers to fiddle with the chain on his neck, your eyebrows bunched in concentration. Your tongue juts out of your lip adorably as you bite down on it, and he resists the urge to kiss you senseless.

The chain Regulus was wearing was nothing more than a thick black string, but it was knotted around various small crystals, courtesy of your hobby of collecting them. When he had first asked you out with a ring, you had shyly given him this string with a single crystal hanging from it – a rose quartz. “For my unconditional love,” you had mumbled, blushing so hard he thought you mirrored a rose. But the pink that coated your cheeks was a lovelier shade than any flower he had laid his eyes on.

From then on, you would knot new crystals onto the string whenever you found them. Regulus was pretty sure some of them had to have been rocks or pebbles, but he loved you too much not to indulge you.

“Mon chéri,” he tries again, amusement seeping into his tone. “It’s 5 in the morning.”

“So?” you ask distractedly, your fingers still tugging and pulling his necklace from side to side. “5AM is when the crystals are most active, you know. This is when they pull the most power from the core of the earth,” you explain matter-of-factly, so dedicated to your task that you don’t notice his smile widening.

You sway forward slightly, unable to balance on the balls of your knees. Regulus silently wraps his palms around your hips, tugging downward until you’re comfortably seated on his stomach.

That was when he noticed you had odd-shaped stones in one of your hands, sunlight reflecting off of them to give a pale blue glow. “What are those?”

You perk up at his question, abandoning your task of trying to tie the stones onto the string. Your head tilts upwards to give him a sunny smile. “They’re aquamarine crystals, obviously.”

“Yeah?” he murmurs, his smile softening. It doesn’t matter how many times you do this, it’s always just as endearing to him. The way you smile fondly at him – like he’s silly for not knowing.

“Yeah,” you beam. “I found these in the stream nearby, the one next to the big daisy field with all the horsies.”

“You walked into the water again, then?”

It’s too laden with fondness to sound accusatory, but you turn slightly sheepish anyway, nodding. Your hands find their way back to his necklace, and this time you manage to loop the string around a crystal successfully. Your face lights up, obviously pleased with your work.

He huffs out a laugh, leaning forward to run his hands down your long skirt. As expected, he finds it damp and sticky. “You’ll have to take a bath, mon amour.”

“In the stream?”

“No,” he mutters, trying but failing to conceal his amused grin. He presses his elbows into the mattress, hoisting himself upwards to press an amorous kiss to your forehead. He can’t help himself, the blush on your cheeks and the shy smile too much for his heart to handle. “In the shower, baby.”

“Oh,” you reply as a way of answer, and Regulus can’t help but chuckle at the slight disappointment in your voice. “Maybe I can shower in the water tomorrow, then? With all the ducks. These ducks are nice; they eat the bread I throw at them. You can come too if you’d like.”

“Maybe,” he replies indulgently, with absolutely no intention of letting you bathe with the ducks instead of with him — but he was never one to deny you anything you asked for.

just remembered how much i love hugs... sending everyone the biggest cuddliest most smothering hug ever☹️❤️

HAHAHA😭😭 thank you babe you’re so sweet mwah <3

chocolate-coated hearts | r.l. (part 3)

part 1 | part 2 | part 3

barista!remus x shy!reader

You smoothen the ruffles on your dress, twirling this way and that. One last glance at the mirror was spent convincing yourself you looked fine before you finally stepped out of your apartment.

The wind blew your hair back as you walked, the click-clack of your boots on the pavement mirroring the thumping of your heart. It was loud and fast, so much so that you wouldn’t be surprised if there was a bomb waiting to explode in you.

The barista, Remus — possibly the loveliest human being on earth, had invited you to a poetry reading at Beanie’s. He scribbled down his number onto your coffee cup too, which had to have meant something.

The nerves were starting to get the better of you, your heart climbing its way up your throat as you neared the café. 

This was the first time you so desperately wished that you hadn’t majored in literature, that you didn’t feel the impact of words as deeply as you did. A poetry reading would definitely trigger the part of you which didn’t shut up once uncorked, and you were praying you didn’t mess this whole thing up with your tendency to ramble.

Beanie’s was always crowded, but as you pushed the door open, the largeness of the mob was startlingly obvious. You couldn’t help but think it looked more like a fish market than a café, feeling skin against skin as you pushed past people.

There was a small stage set up at the corner, fairy lights strung above it. At the moment, there was a teenage girl timidly reciting something from a scrunched up piece of paper. You paid her no heed, craning your neck to find Remus.

Just then, an arm wrapped around your waist and you yelp, head swivelling to come face to face with Madison. “Hi, gorgeous.”

You sigh, feeling the tension leave your shoulders as she gives you a peck on the cheek. Of course, she came. Your best friend wouldn’t shut up for hours after you told her Remus had given you his number. “Hey.”

“Where is he?” she asks immediately, trying to follow your line of vision.

You shrug, eyes darting around till you spot someone’s gaze trained on you from across the café. It’s not Remus, by any means. But he’s undeniably attractive, long black curls and tattoos all over. Once you finally meet his eyes, he grins and wriggles his eyebrows. Who the fuck —

Just then, Remus sticks his head out from behind the stranger and beams at you, giving you a wave. You immediately shift your gaze to him, your heart feeling like it can’t decide whether it wants to be in your throat or chest.

A small smile makes its way onto your face as you wave back, trying to shove your way over to him with Madison on your heels. 

“And now, we’ve got Remus Lupin, with The Bell Jar by Sylvia… um… Plait? Plaque! Sylvia Plaque!” a waiter suddenly squeaks into the microphone before scurrying off stage. You pause in your movements, Remus giving you an almost apologetic smile before he climbs up.

“Hello,” he tests the microphone, his lips curving upwards as some members in the crowd cheer. You notice that the black-haired man from earlier seemed particularly enthusiastic, yelling “Go, Moony!” and sticking his fingers in his mouth to whistle.

You train your vision back on Remus as he starts to speak. “So, this isn’t exactly a poem,” he starts. “It’s an excerpt from one of my favourite books. And it really resonated with me, so I’d like to share it with you.”

You listen silently, anticipating whatever he was going to say next. It was alarming how much this mattered to you, that he had good choices in stories and poems and words. Because how were you to fall in love with a man who didn’t feel lingo as deafeningly as he felt the beat of his heart? He wouldn’t be able to understand you; you were sure, if he couldn’t listen to the silent pleas of scribbles on pages. You conversed like a book, like you were begging to be understood and silently guarded in the heart of one’s brain – and you only hoped that there was someone out there willing to peruse scripture after scripture till he memorised the language of your lips. Right now, you were really wishing that someone was the gorgeous man in front of you.

“I saw my life branching out before me like the green fig tree in the story…”

Your eyes flutter shut as you lose yourself in his soliloquy. You don’t just hear his speech, but you listen. You listen to the ache that seeps into his voice, the silent rasp of air leaving his lips as he stresses on words he deems important, the sheer longing etched in every word. And you couldn’t see it, but you could feel his gaze on you, you could feel the string connecting his heart straight to yours.

“...they plopped to the ground beneath my feet,” he finishes. A slow, somewhat hesitant round of applause sounds in the café.

You open your eyes, unsurprised to find them misty. You bring your fingers to your cheeks and swipe the tears away. Madison was gripping one of your hands, squeezing it. The both of you were used to this, your onslaught of tears whenever you felt a little too hard. 

You watch as Remus steps off the stage, disappearing into the sea of people. Someone else climbs up, and you zone out, getting lost in your thoughts once more.

“Hey.” You blink, looking up to see Remus in front of you now, his pretty face scrunched up a bit in worry. “Hey, Y/n. You okay? Saw you getting a little emotional just now.”

Madison makes a small squeal of excitement, and Remus flashes her a small smile before turning back to you, patiently waiting for you to respond.

A teary chuckle bubbles out of you, “Sorry, yeah, I’m all good. It’s just – that was really something. It hurt in the best way. You have great taste, you know.”

He softens at your confession, a smile playing on the edges of his lips. “Thank you. And I get it, I couldn’t stop crying for almost an hour when I first read it.”

You let out a real laugh at the thought of that, and his smile breaks into a grin. He reaches forward, and you barely have a moment to comprehend it before he’s wiping away the tears on your cheeks. You really hope he can’t feel the heat emanating from your skin, or hear the giggles from beside you.

You make it a point to shoot Madison a dirty look as he pulls his hand away. “On another note,” he starts, and you can hear his slight cockiness at having you all flustered, “I didn’t think you’d come.”

“Of course –” you meant to say that you’d cleared your schedule to be able to make it, but the words die on your tongue as he whips a rose stalk out from behind his back and holds it out for you.

You stare up at him blankly, feeling your heartbeat growing more erratic by the second. “A small thank you for attending.”

“You give it to all the customers, then?”

“No. Just the prettiest one.”

You press a hand to your mouth to stop yourself from gasping, and shakily reach out to take the flower from him. Twisting it in your fingers, you feel your heart start to turn to mush – he had cut off all the thorns on the stalk.

“Thank you.”

He grins, and it’s more endearing than the rose between your fingers. A sideway glance at your best friend tells you she’s at the edge of combusting into giggles and swoons.

“Hello, lovely ladies.”

Your gaze shifts to the right of Remus to see that man, the good-looking one who had been staring at you from afar. You arch an eyebrow, but Madison matches his energy. “Hey, handsome.”

His eyes linger on you. “You’re Y/n, I assume. Moony – Remus has told me all about you.” Your heart does a backflip and you glance at Remus, only to find him already smiling at you.

“But you,” he turns to your best friend, his thoughtful expression morphing into a grin. “Who might you be?”

“Madison.”

“Madison,” he drawls. “Sirius.”

You watch as Sirius compliments her dress, and she turns a red so deep it could rival how you had been minutes ago. And you smile, because you knew she’d been belittling herself over her appearance with the baby bump.

Remus silently tugs on your hand, steering you away from them. He glances over at the two of them again, grinning. “Sorry about Sirius. The asshole can be such a flirt.”

You huff out a laugh. “No, it’s quite alright. Madison’s quite the lovergirl herself, and god knows she needs this after her previous relationship.”

He nods understandingly, and a silence settles over the two of you. “I’m glad you came. You know, studying literature and stuff, I thought you’d like it.”

“I’m glad I came too. But I’m sorry you had to see me like –” you chuckle nervously, doing a jazz hands in front of your face, “like this, tears and all.”

His curls bounce as he laughs, eyes crinkling at the corners. You couldn’t help but think that all the creative evocations you’ve ever read fell short in describing the depth of his eyes. “That’s nothing to apologise for, sweet girl. You look just as lovely even when you’re crying.”

You pull your lip between your teeth to stop the smile from spreading across your face.

“Babe –” Madison comes over, out of breath. “Can we leave? I still haven’t gotten the groceries for tonight. And you’re helping me with dinner.”

You glance over her shoulder to see Sirius watching her with hearts in his eyes, and you let out a soft snicker when you see tints of Madison’s maroon lipstick on his cheek. “Okay.”

Madison pulls you towards the exit. You cast a glance at Remus, smiling and waving.

“Y/n!” Remus calls out, and you tug on Madison’s fingers to get her to stop.

“Yeah?”

“How else would you like me to see you?”

You blink. “Huh?”

He chuckles. “You said you didn’t want me to see you like this, in tears. How else – where else can I see you, sweetness?”

Your heart jolts at his obvious attempts at flirting, and how easily it was working.

“Tammy’s Bookstore,” you almost mumble, shyness flooding into your voice. “8pm to 12am shift.”

Remus seems to have gotten the answer he wanted. “Cool. I’ll see you there sometime.”

You turn around before he can see how pink you’ve turned, urging Madison out the shop.

“And sweetheart? Use the phone number.”

a/n: okay so i had a lot of fun with this part!! but i'd love to hear feedback, if you think maybe i'm sidetracking or you have any ideas for the next part <3 also the excerpt mentioned is about how we can't take every opportunity we wish we could in our short life, and it's from the bell jar by Sylvia Plath. agonisingly beautiful, hits you right in the feels!! here it is if you're interested :)

hi everyone thank you for your requests, pls be patient with me as i work through them because it’s currently finals season 😔😔😔 also pls drink up because it’s stinking hot out there!!!

guys im sitting in a cafe having a maple syrup ice blended drink and wearing my cosy cardigan and working on an essay <333

oh my gosh! I am in love! pleaseee continue this

https://www.tumblr.com/saturnitystar/758532956071624704/chocolate-coated-hearts-rl?source=share

yesss i love barista!remus too much not to continue <3 !! i got so carried away and this was way longer than i expected it to be haha

chocolate-coated hearts | r.l. (part 2)

part 1 | part 2 | part 3

barista!remus x shy!reader

tw: fluff, use of y/n

The rain patters down mercilessly, the tip-tap sound from where it’s hitting your file awfully loud. You break into a slight jog, holding the black file above your head as if it would offer some sort of protection against the downpour.

You were on the way back from the university, and had conveniently ignored your roommate’s reminders to bring an umbrella earlier that morning, because oh, are you sure you checked the forecast for the right day? and it hasn’t rained in weeks – why the hell would it rain today? Unfortunately, it did rain today.

The dampness soaked through your shoes as you moved, splashing upwards to wet your pants. You let out an exasperated sigh and lift your head, eyes darting around to seek shelter until the rain subsided.

In your peripheral vision, you could see a library – but that was way too chilly, given the way you were trembling. There was a bar, but… that was where your weird neighbour, Carl, went every evening. And you were in absolutely no mood to entertain his rambling. You wrap your arms around yourself, shivering as you trot a little further in an attempt to find a decent place. Wetness was seeping into your clothes, igniting a chill throughout your entire body.

As the seconds ticked by, you felt the frustration building up. Everything was just going so wrong today. Your lecturer had returned your analysis of Pride and Prejudice, and you had done so badly that it had to be redone. Plus, you were supposed to go out with Madison for lunch, but she had fallen horribly sick. And now, the torrential rain seemed to be mocking you – adding insult to injury.

The warm orange lighting of a sign came into view, and you squint your eyes to make out the words. Rubbing water off your face, you realise that the sign said Beanie’s. Well, it was a cafe – that was good enough. As you veered off the pathway to the right, you could smell freshly-baked cookies and coffee from the place. It better be warm inside, you thought. One more screw-up, and you genuinely believed you would burst.

You come to a stop outside the cafe, taking laboured gasps of air to catch your breath. You shake the water off your file and push the door open, stepping inside.

Fortunately, it was warm inside – you could feel the hot air blowing onto your skin immediately, drying your clothes from inside out. But to your misfortune, the heat seemed to be spreading to your face as well when you caught sight of the person behind the counter.

It had completely slipped your mind. But now it was all coming back to you, staring at his chiselled arms as he placed a plate of bagels on a tray. Your incident a few weeks ago, when you’d embarrassingly frozen on the spot and let the hot barista pick your donuts for you.

That had weighed on your mind for days, the way you had humiliated yourself in front of possibly the most angelic person on earth, and how said angel had treated you as though you were some kind of delicate flower.

You glance back out at the rain, drawing your lip in between your teeth as you contemplated your options. Either you went back out there, or you moved forward and ordered from Mr. Super Hot Barista. And you were definitely not going back into the rain.

Sucking in a deep breath, you brushed your soaked hair out of your face and wiped your hands on your sweatshirt. You shake off as much water as possible before walking towards the counter, feeling shivers run down your spine – from the cold or from shyness, you weren’t sure.

“Hi.” It comes out unnecessarily loudly, and you cringe. You actively try not to ogle at him, and your eyes fall on the tag on his shirt. Remus, it said. For fuck’s sake, even his name was pretty.

Mr. Super Hot Barista – Remus – looked up from the cookies he was boxing, his hazel eyes meeting yours. You could have sworn something like recognition flashed in his gaze. “Hey,” he smiled easily.

It was happening again, and you hated it. You felt your throat start to go dry as you held his gaze, and his smile slowly widened. You swallowed nervously, the quick drip, drip of water from your hair mirroring how fast your heart was beating. He very well knew the effect he was having on you, and was taking full advantage of it.

“So,” Remus started, “What would you like to order, sweetness?”

You thought you were going to pass out from the sheer amount of endearment in the nickname, eyes widening and cheeks turning pink. But you were a strong, independent young woman. And you were not going to let some random barista knock you off your feet.

“One small cappuccino, please,” you squeak, horrified at how small your voice was.

“Right,” he ducked his head to key it into the register, and you resist the urge to reach out and brush your fingers through his gorgeous curls. “And would you like any chocolate donuts with that?”

You swore your stomach flipped upside down at the comment – he remembered your little situation. Your hands come up to cover your reddening cheeks as you involuntarily let out an embarrassed groan.

The sound of his soft chuckle only exacerbates the sensation of your heart bobbing up and down in your chest. “Sorry, sorry – just messing with you.”

You let out a strangled sort of noise, still unwilling to look up and let him see just how flushed you probably were. When you press your face further into your palms, his voice softens. “Hey, I’m not trying to put you on the spot, I swear. I’m sorry.”

The slight tinge of guilt in his voice makes you look up immediately as you drop your hands to your sides. You see him standing in front of the coffee machine, preparing your cappuccino. “No, no. You’re not putting me on the spot, I’m just –” you sputter out, letting out a nervous chortle.

“God, you’re really embarrassed, aren’t you?” he breathes out in quiet laughter. “Calm down, pretty girl. I promise I won’t bite.” That majorly sucks, you thought. You envisioned how his lips would look biting into a cream puff, cursing yourself for even thinking of it a moment later.

“Okay,” you mumble, flipping your slightly less damp hair over your shoulder. And the next thing you utter, you don’t even think about it before saying it. “Don’t call me pretty girl.”

You immediately slap a hand to your mouth, eyes widening in shock at your own tongue. Literature students, and the yappers they are, Madison had once complained. Now you knew just how right she was.

Remus let out an amused snort, his lips curving upwards in a grin. “Okay, sorry, sweetness.”

“Don’t call me that either.”

“Someone’s picky,” he muttered, the smile still on his face as he pressed a lid onto the cup of coffee before pushing it towards you. “What can I call you, then?”

“Y/n,” you mumble, praying that your delight at having been asked your name was not showing on your face.

“Y/n,” he lets it roll around on his tongue, a sweet smile playing on his lips. He scribbles something onto your cup. “That’s a nice name.”

“You too,” you say without thinking, glancing downwards to pull money out the pocket of your pants. You look up to find him eyeing you with his eyebrow arched. A giggle escapes you as you point at his nametag. “Remus, right?”

He looks down at his shirt and chuckles, realisation lighting up his face. “Yeah, my name’s Remus.”

Remus glances back up as you drop the money into his hand. And you’re very careful not to let your fingers brush against his palm this time.

His smile was soft and sunny, making it feel like it had never even rained in the first place. “Bye.”

“Bye,” you echo, your heart fluttering in your chest as you offer him a smile. You turn around to find a table, and just then realise that the cafe was as crowded as it was the last time you were here, if not more.

You purse your lips worriedly. It was still storming outside, and you really needed to get started on your failed analysis and your newly assigned one –

“Y/n!”

You swivel back around to find Remus grinning at you. “You can sit here,” he gestures at the bar stools in front of the platform, which were unoccupied. “I get lonely anyway. It’ll be nice to have some fun company.”

“Oh,” you murmur, an unignorable sense of relief settling over you. “Okay, thanks.” You make your way over, setting your coffee and tote bag down on the platform before hauling yourself up onto the stool.

As he picks up donuts and packs them into boxes, you pull out your book and a stack of foolscap. Remus glances up at the sound, his face immediately lighting up. “M.L. Rio?”

You nod. If We Were Villains was the next book you were assigned to work on.

“That was a good book,” he says casually as he begins to work again. “Why, are you annotating it or something?”

You try not to beam. He reads, your brain was screaming at you. He reads and he has excellent fucking taste. Could he possibly be more perfect?

“Not just annotating,” you reply, a pleased lilt to your voice. “Analysing, for a project. Oh – I forgot to mention, I’m majoring in literature.”

“Literature, huh?” he grins as he sets his tongs down, and he looks almost bemused. “Interesting.”

You pull out a pen and begin to write, the smile never fading from your face. He lets you work in silence, the only sound being the metallic clinking of tongs as he packs pastries into bags and boxes.

“Hot take,” he says suddenly, a couple minutes later. You look up, surprised. “I don’t believe James was some sort of tragic hero, as people make him out to be. I think he was the villain.”

“No.”

“Yes,” he snorts, and a laugh bubbles out of you. “That’s a ridiculous opinion.”

Remus rolls his eyes. “As a literature student, I think you need to be more open-minded.”

“The title is ‘If We Were Villains’, not ‘I Am The Villain’!” you retort indignantly, earning a loud bout of laughter from him. He shakes his head indulgently, continuing to stack boxes. “Great point.”

You can hear the deadpan in his voice, but decide to take it as a victory anyway. Grinning, you get back to your book as a comfortable silence settles over the both of you.

It was hard, but you were trying your hardest not to glance up at him every once in a while. The glowy orange light on the ceiling shone down on him, and you felt your curiosity growing towards the pale scars that decorated his face.

Whenever he caught you staring, you immediately evaded his gaze and took a sip of your coffee, or jotted something onto your paper. You thought you may have seen him trying not to smile a couple of times.

You blink as you glanced at your foolscap, which was full of random squiggly lines and words written in an attempt to make it seem like you were concentrating. But it was absolutely impossible to focus with Remus in front of you.

You furrow your eyebrows disappointedly. It really was important that you finished this up by tonight, and you were obviously not getting any work done here. One look outside told you that, unfortunately, the rain had stopped and the moon had come out.

Remus perked up when he heard the shuffling coming from you. He looked up to see you packing your things. “Leaving so soon?”

“Sorry,” you mutter as you pick up your cup of coffee, almost finished with it. “I’ve got more work to do at home.” The stool screeches as you stand up, slinging your tote bag over your shoulder. You rake your fingers through your hair – you had spent so long in the cafe, it was completely dry now.

He smiles, “Nah, you don’t need to apologise. It was fun talking to you.”

Your heart smiled at that. “Yeah, I had fun too.”

He stays silent for a moment, observing you. Your face starts to feel hot again. “Okay then, I’m gonna go.”

“Hey, wait a minute,” he calls out, causing you to turn back around.

You tilt your head questioningly. “There’s a poetry reading happening here, tomorrow, at 5pm. You like poetry?”

“Yeah,” you reply. “Yeah, I like poetry.”

He nods, the hint of a smile on his lips. “Come round if you’re free. I think you’ll like it.”

It felt like fireworks had begun to explode everywhere within you, from your head to toes and even in those little spaces between your fingers. “Okay,” you murmur. Your heart was tingling with excitement. “I’ll try to make it.”

“Great,” he grins, chucking his hands in his pockets as he leaned against the platform behind him. “Cool, then. See you.”

“See you,” you smile dazedly, pivoting and walking towards the exit with your coffee in hand. Your beam widened as you walked out, strolling back home as you sipped your coffee.

Remus had invited you to a poetry reading. A poetry reading.

Your cheeks ached from how hard you were grinning. You drink the last bit of your cappuccino, going to throw it in a bin on the street. That’s when you caught sight of something scrawled in black ink on the side of the cup.

There was a heart next to your name, and a number below it. Call me, pretty girl, it said in brackets.

You skipped all the way home.