Latest Posts by itsreallynotriri - Page 2

A regulus x chubby ravenclaw reader female x serverus Snape story please

Hidden in plain sight

Y/N has always struggled with insecurity, convinced that someone like Regulus Black could never notice her. Little does she know, he hasn’t stopped talking about her for weeks.

requested by misskity1912-blog

Regulus Black x Chubby Fem! reader

words: 944

warning: mentions of insecurity

note: I'm not familiar with Severus so it will take some time before I can start writing about him <3

masterlist, regulus masterlist

Y/N stood in front of the mirror in her dormitory, adjusting the hem of her robes as she stared at her reflection. Her hands unconsciously smoothed over the fabric, trying to hide the curves she had never quite learned to love. No matter how often she wanted to remind herself that beauty wasn’t defined by a single body type, the lingering insecurities whispered otherwise.

She turned slightly, frowning at her side profile. She envied the girls who seemed effortlessly graceful, the ones whose uniforms fit just right, whose confidence seemed so natural. She pulled at the fabric of her robes as if that would somehow change the way she looked, but nothing ever did. With a quiet sigh, she let her hands drop and turned away from the mirror, shaking off the nagging thoughts. It didn’t matter. It wasn’t like anyone was paying attention to her, least of all Regulus Black.

Still, as she made her way down to the Great Hall, her heart clenched at the thought of him, impossibly elegant and untouchable.

Y/N sat at the Ravenclaw table, absently poking at her breakfast as she half-listened to her housemates discussing their plans for the upcoming Hogsmeade weekend. It wasn’t as if she had any plans of her own—she rarely did. While she loved the idea of going, wandering through the cobbled streets with someone special, she knew that particular dream was unattainable.

Because that someone special was Regulus Black.

And Regulus Black was impossibly out of reach.

She had harbored a deep, quiet crush on the Slytherin for years. He was everything she was not—elegant, poised, respected. Meanwhile, she was the chubby Ravenclaw who kept to herself, more at home in the library than at social gatherings. She was always hyperaware of her appearance, tugging at the edges of her robes or crossing her arms over her stomach, trying to take up less space. The idea of him ever noticing her was laughable, and yet, she couldn’t stop herself from stealing glances at him across the Great Hall, allowing her mind to entertain impossible daydreams.

Little did she know that, at that very moment, Regulus Black was sitting at the Slytherin table, going on and on about her.

“She’s brilliant,” Regulus said, absently twirling his spoon in his porridge. “I saw her answering Slughorn’s question yesterday before he even finished asking it. And she was right. Of course, she was right. She always is.”

Barty groaned, dropping his head onto the table. “Merlin, not again.”

Evan rolled his eyes. “You’ve been talking about Y/N for weeks. Either do something about it or shut up.”

Pandora, always the most patient of the group, smiled encouragingly. “You should ask her to Hogsmeade, Regulus. She doesn’t seem to have any plans.”

Regulus hesitated, suddenly feeling very exposed. “She wouldn’t say yes.”

“How would you know?” Evan asked, exasperated. “It’s not like you’ve tried.”

“She’s never shown any interest in me,” Regulus admitted, suddenly feeling foolish for all the time he’d spent admiring her from a distance. “She’s intelligent, kind, beautiful—why would she waste her time on me?”

Barty nearly choked on his pumpkin juice. “You are Regulus Black. You have people practically lining up for the chance to go to Hogsmeade with you. Stop being an idiot and just ask her.”

Regulus pursed his lips. The idea of being rejected by Y/N was enough to make his stomach twist, but his friends’ words lingered in his mind. Maybe… maybe they were right.

Y/N sat alone in the courtyard, bundled in her robes as she read a book, the crisp autumn air nipping at her cheeks. The sun was starting to dip lower in the sky, and most students had already retreated indoors, but she found the quiet comforting. It was easier to exist in the world of books than in reality where she was invisible to the person she liked most.

She was so lost in her reading that she didn’t hear footsteps approaching until a shadow fell over her pages. Glancing up, she nearly dropped her book when she saw Regulus Black standing before her, hands in his pockets, looking uncharacteristically hesitant.

Her heart leaped into her throat. “Oh. Um—hi?”

Regulus cleared his throat, shifting to his feet. “Hi.”

An awkward silence stretched between them, and Y/N struggled to understand what was happening. Was he lost? Did he need help with something? Had she done something wrong?

“I—” Regulus exhaled sharply, looking more nervous than she’d ever seen him. “Would you like to go to Hogsmeade with me this weekend?”

Y/N blinked, sure she had misheard him. “What?”

Regulus’ jaw tightened as if he were bracing for impact. “Would you like to go to Hogsmeade with me?”

Her mind reeled. This had to be a joke, some kind of cruel prank. There was no way he—Regulus Black—was asking her out. Her stomach twisted with familiar self-doubt.

“Me?” she asked, voice barely above a whisper. “Are you sure?”

Regulus frowned slightly. “Yes. Why wouldn’t I be?”

She swallowed, shifting uncomfortably. “I just… I don’t really seem like your type.”

Regulus’ gaze softened as he took a step closer. “You’re exactly my type.”

Y/N hesitated for a moment, then nodded, a small smile forming on her lips. “I’d like that.”

Relief washed over Regulus’ face, and for the first time, he allowed himself to truly smile at her. “Good.”

As he walked away, promising to meet her in the entrance hall on Saturday, Y/N watched him go, her heart thudding wildly in her chest.

Maybe, just maybe, she had been wrong about being out of his reach.

The Battle of Hogwarts

The Potter-Black's fight in the Battle of Hogwarts.

Regulus Black x Fem Potter! reader]

word count: 815

warning: mentions of war, death, hurt/comfort, almost dying

The air crackled with curses and screams, the ground trembling beneath every explosion. Smoke stung Harry's eyes as he ducked behind a crumbling stone pillar, his chest heaving. His wand hand was steady, but his heart was racing. Across the battlefield, Death Eaters swarmed like shadows, their masks faceless and unforgiving.

“Protego!” Harry shouted, deflecting a curse aimed at Neville. He spun, firing off a Stupefy toward a masked figure. The spell hit true, and the Death Eater crumpled. He was about to move again when something caught his eye through the smoke.

There—at the heart of the chaos—were his parents.

Y/N and Regulus stood side by side, backs to each other, fighting with the synchronized precision of two people who had spent years learning each other’s rhythms. Y/N’s wand slashed through the air as fiery runes lit up the darkness, forming ancient symbols that struck down three Death Eaters in a single sweep. Regulus was a blur of defensive magic, shields shimmering like a protective cocoon around his wife as he deflected curses with ruthless efficiency.

“Come on, you bastards!” Y/N snarled, hurling a Blasting Curse that shattered a marble column, toppling Death Eaters beneath the debris.

Regulus cast a cutting hex, sending another enemy sprawling. His eyes flicked up for the briefest second—and locked with Harry’s across the battlefield.

The look said everything: Stay safe. Stay alive.

Harry gave a grim nod and turned back into the fray. But even as he fought, the image of his parents—unbreakable, untouchable—stayed with him.

Not far away, Danny, now 15, stood with her back to the Great Hall’s shattered entrance. Her hair was tangled, and her lip was bleeding. Her wand hand was firm, though, her father’s lessons echoing in her mind.

“Stay grounded, little star. Predict their movements. Strike hard. Strike smart.”

The Death Eater before her sneered beneath his mask. “Look at you. A little girl playing hero.”

Danny’s grip tightened. “Avia Ignis!” she shouted.

Golden, bird-shaped flames shot from her wand, screeching as they slammed into his shield. The Death Eater staggered. Danny didn’t hesitate. “Expelliarmus!”

The man’s wand flew from his grasp, and Danny followed with a swift “Stupefy.” He collapsed in a heap.

Breathing heavily, she turned—just in time to see the ceiling above her crack. Massive chunks of stone and timber groaned as they began to fall.

Her eyes widened.

Run.

She bolted toward the corridor, sprinting with all her strength as the ceiling collapsed behind her. The noise was deafening. A jagged block clipped her shoulder, sending her sprawling. She scrambled to her feet, heart hammering. A deafening crack sounded above her, and—

The world turned to darkness.

Hours later, the battle was over. The Dark Lord was gone, his forces scattered or captured. But Hogwarts lay in ruins, and the losses were staggering.

Y/N stood amidst the rubble, her hands trembling as she gripped Regulus’s arm. Her eyes were wild, scanning the battlefield for any sign of their daughter.

“She was there, Reg,” Y/N gasped. “Near the Great Hall. I saw her fighting.”

Regulus, pale and bloodied, pulled her into his arms. “We’ll find her.” His voice cracked.

Harry appeared beside them, face streaked with dirt and ash. “I’ll help look.”

The three of them moved toward the hall, stepping over shattered stone and fallen bodies. Y/N’s breaths came faster with each step. Her eyes landed on a collapsed archway, a familiar child-sized wand lying just beyond the rubble.

“No,” she whispered. Her knees gave out, and she collapsed with a broken sob. “No, no, no.”

Regulus knelt beside her, pulling her into his chest even as his own shoulders shook. Harry stood frozen, unable to look away from the wand.

The silence was suffocating.

And then—

There was a faint shift beneath the rubble.

A small hand, scraped and bloodied, pushed through the stones.

Harry lunged forward, yanking rocks away. “Danny! Danny, we’re here!”

The debris shifted further, and with a low groan, Danica emerged. Her curls were matted with dust, her face streaked with grime, but her eyes were bright and alive.

“Mama?” she croaked.

Y/N scrambled to her knees, pulling Danny into a crushing embrace. “Oh, my baby—my baby.” Tears streamed down her cheeks as she rocked her daughter back and forth.

Regulus dropped beside them, cupping Danny’s face. “You’re okay, starshine. You’re okay.”

Danny’s lips quirked into a wobbly smile. “Told you I was good at dueling, Baba.”

Harry barked out a watery laugh and ruffled her hair. “Yeah, Hazzy’s proud of you, squirt.”

Danny leaned against Y/N’s chest, eyes fluttering closed. “I’m sleepy,” she mumbled.

“That’s okay,” Y/N whispered, kissing the crown of her head. “Rest, sweetheart. We’ve got you.”

As the first light of dawn broke through the shattered ceiling, the Potter-Black family sat together amidst the ruins—bruised, battered, but whole.

previous chapter <-

Danny's turn

It's the start of Harry's fourth year and Danny is entering her first year.

[Regulus Black x Fem Potter! reader]

word count: 722

warnings: nothing lol

note: Three more chapters after this one

The summer before Harry's fourth year at Hogwarts was a whirlwind of excitement, nerves, and—as always—mischief in the Potter-Black household. But this year, the buzz wasn't just about the Triwizard Tournament. No, the bigger event—at least according to the family—was that Danica Potter-Black, their resident broody genius, was finally heading to Hogwarts.

"She’ll be in Slytherin," Regulus said one evening as the family sat around the fireplace. He leaned back in his chair, a book open on his lap. "Mark my words."

Harry, sprawled across the rug with Danny's legs resting on his back, snorted. "Yeah, sure, Baba. You said that about me too, remember?"

Regulus gave an exaggerated sigh. "Yes, well...you're James' child. No cunning bone in your body."

"Hey!" Harry protested as Y/N burst out laughing beside him.

"He's got a point, sweetheart," she teased. "You do tend to wear your heart on your sleeve."

"Unlike Danny here," Harry grumbled, tossing a pillow backward. It hit Danny squarely in the stomach, but she didn’t even flinch. The eleven-year-old had her nose buried in Advanced Magical Theory—a book meant for sixth-years.

"I’m still deciding," Danny said coolly, flipping a page without looking up. "Slytherin or Ravenclaw. They're both fine options."

Harry groaned dramatically. "You're such a little snob."

"And you're predictable," Danny shot back. "Hazzy, you practically begged to be in Gryffindor."

"I did not beg."

"Yes, you did," Regulus said with a smirk.

Y/N laughed harder. "You did, love. It's okay. We still adore you."

Harry dropped his head into his arms, groaning. "This family’s the worst."

Platform 9¾ was, as always, a chaotic mess of trunks, cats, owls, and frantic parents. Harry stood beside Danny, who was watching everything with her usual quiet intensity. She was dressed neatly in a crisp button-up and black jeans, her curls pulled back into a braid that Y/N had wrestled into submission that morning.

"See that kid over there?" Harry leaned toward her, nodding toward a nervous-looking boy holding a toad. "Neville Longbottom. Super nice. If you get lost, find him."

Danny arched an eyebrow. "You mean the boy who melted his own cauldron in first year?"

Harry winced. "He's improved."

Regulus crouched beside his daughter, adjusting the strap on her satchel. "Remember, starshine, you don’t have to decide who you are today. The Hat will know where you belong."

Danny nodded, though her lips pressed into a thin line.

Y/N kissed the top of her head. "And if you get nervous, remember that you know more spells than half the seventh-years."

Danny finally smiled. "Because Baba taught me illegally?"

"Technically, it was more of a loophole," Regulus muttered.

The train whistled, and Harry ruffled Danny's hair. "C’mon, Bug. Time to go."

As Harry led her toward the train, Danny suddenly stopped. She turned and ran back to her parents, wrapping her arms tightly around Regulus first, then Y/N.

"Love you," she whispered.

"We love you too," Y/N said, voice thick.

Regulus hugged her tightly, then cupped her cheek. "Go show them what a Black can do."

Danny gave a sharp nod and marched after Harry.

From the window, Harry waved at his parents as the train pulled away. Beside him, Danny stood on her tiptoes, her eyes already scanning the train for potential threats—or opportunities.

"First-year nerves?" Harry asked.

Danny smirked. "Please. I’ve been ready since I was six."

The Sorting Hat’s mouth opened wide as it sat atop Danica's head.

"Ahhh…interesting. Very interesting indeed. Ambitious…clever…calculating…but also…hmm…you love your family more than anything. Brave for them. Protective."

Danny gripped the edge of the stool. Not Gryffindor. Not Gryffindor.

"Not Gryffindor? Ah. Like your brother…though you wouldn't do terribly there either. You’ve got that same sharp mind your mother has…and your father’s…ah yes…his talent. So…where to put you…?

The entire hall seemed to hold its breath.

"SLYTHERIN!"

The Slytherin table erupted into cheers. Danny slid off the stool, her face calm but her heart racing. As she sat down beside a fourth-year named Gemma Farley, she sneaked a glance at the staff table.

Her mother gave her a wink.

Danny's lips twitched upward. She turned to the table of green and silver and thought, Yeah. This fits.

Meanwhile, Harry groaned across the hall at the Gryffindor table. "Baba’s never gonna let me live this down."

previous chapter <--> next chapter

Hi hi! I’m the anon that requested the new baby fic and I’m sosososo happy u liked it! I LOVE baby Danny so much she’s so cute this is so perfect MUAH

Thank you so much! I'm really glad that I was able to write what you requested! I love this prompt sm no joke 🙏

Eerie similarities

The eerie similarities between Danny and Baba, and, Harry and Mama

[Regulus Black x Fem Potter! reader]

word count: 779

warnings: fluff and a bit of humor

The Black-Potter living room was a study in contrasts. On one side, sprawled across the thick, emerald-green rug, Harry and Y/N lay on their backs, laughing breathlessly after what had been, according to them, an epic tickle war. On the other side of the room, Regulus sat on the couch, legs crossed, one arm draped casually over the backrest. Beside him, their six-year-old daughter, Danica "Danny" Potter-Black, mirrored his posture with unsettling accuracy.

Both father and daughter held books in their hands. Regulus was reading a dense, leather-bound tome about magical theory, his brows furrowed in concentration. Danny, meanwhile, had a picture book titled The Curious Cauldron Chronicles, but it wasn't the pictures she cared about. Her small finger traced the words on the page as she read quietly to herself, lips moving with every sentence.

"She's just like you," Y/N said from the floor, propping herself up on her elbows as she watched the pair. "Quiet, broody, and disturbingly good at everything."

Regulus glanced over the top of his book, a smirk pulling at his lips. "Disturbingly? I'm gifted, not disturbing."

"Baba," Danny said without looking up, "Mama's jealous that we're smarter."

Regulus chuckled. "That must be it."

Y/N gasped dramatically and flopped back onto the rug. "You hear that, Harry? Our broody geniuses think they're better than us."

Harry, sprawled beside her with his messy black hair sticking up in every direction, grinned mischievously. "Yeah, well, they probably can't do this." He scrambled to his feet and launched himself into a spontaneous, lopsided cartwheel.

Danny finally looked up from her book, unimpressed. "That's not hard," she said, setting her book aside and sliding off the couch. She attempted a cartwheel, landing with a heavy thud on her side. She scowled as her curls flopped into her eyes. "Okay," she muttered. "Maybe it is hard."

Y/N laughed and sat up. "It's okay, Danny-bug. We'll teach you."

"I don't need help," Danny mumbled, climbing to her feet and brushing herself off. "I just need practice."

"She's definitely yours," Y/N said, looking pointedly at Regulus.

"And Harry's yours," Regulus countered, tilting his head toward their son, who was now attempting to do jumping jacks while singing a made-up song about dragons.

"I'm like Mama!" Harry declared proudly, flopping down beside her again. "We're the fun ones."

Y/N ruffled his hair. "That's right, Hazzy. We cause the chaos while they sit around reading big boring books."

Danny crossed her arms, standing next to her father with an identical expression of disdain. "Books aren't boring," she huffed.

"Exactly," Regulus said, holding out a hand for a high five. Danny slapped his palm with the practiced precision of someone who'd done it many times before.

"See," Y/N whispered to Harry. "Broody, smart, and way too serious."

Harry giggled, but his eyes softened as he watched his sister sit back down beside their father. "I like it when Danny reads to me sometimes," he said quietly.

"Of course you do," Y/N said, kissing his temple. "She's your little sister. You're supposed to think she's cool sometimes. Just don't tell her that too often."

Harry nodded sagely. "Got it."

Across the room, Danny leaned into Regulus's side, her head resting against his arm as she picked up her book again. He angled the book slightly toward her, pointing out a tricky word when she hesitated.

Y/N smiled softly. "She's going to be just like you, you know."

Regulus glanced up. "Brilliant and devastatingly handsome?"

"I was going to say a stubborn know-it-all, but sure, let's go with that."

Danny, still absorbed in her book, gave a tiny smile at her parents' teasing. Harry, meanwhile, tugged on Y/N's hand. "Come on, Mama! Let's build a pillow fort!"

Y/N jumped to her feet with a conspiratorial grin. "Excellent idea, partner-in-crime."

As the energetic duo began dragging pillows and blankets from every corner of the room, Danny peeked over her book. "That blanket's mine," she said.

"Then come help us," Y/N said with a wink.

Danny hesitated. But when Regulus nudged her lightly, she stood and crossed the room, grabbing a pillow and placing it with calculated precision.

"We're going to have our hands full with these two," Y/N murmured as Regulus joined her on the couch.

Regulus draped an arm around her shoulders, watching Harry enthusiastically demonstrate the "proper" way to build a pillow fort while Danny corrected his measurements. "Yes," he agreed, pressing a kiss to Y/N's temple. "And I wouldn't change a thing."

Outside, the winter wind howled against the windows. Inside, the Black-Potter family remained warm, chaotic, and perfectly complete.

previous chapter <--> next chapter

The adventures of Danny and Hazzy

Harry and Danny growing up in the Potter-Black household.

[Regulus Black x fem Potter! reader}

word count: 4.1k

warnings: a lot of fluff, Y/N and Regulus kissing at the end

6 MONTH OLD DANNY AND FOUR-YEAR-OLD HARRY 

The Black-Potter household was filled with soft giggles and the occasional delighted squeal. Six-month-old Danica or Danny as Harry fondly called her, sat propped up with pillows on a blanket spread across the living room floor. Her dark curls were already forming wild ringlets, and her bright gray eyes tracked her big brother's every movement.

"Look, Danny! It's a flying hippogriff!" Harry declared, holding a stuffed hippogriff in the air and zooming it around with exaggerated whooshing noises. He had charmed it to hover slightly, the wings flapping as it circled Danny's head.

Danny blinked, then let out a squeal of laughter, her tiny hands reaching up to grasp at the toy. When the hippogriff dipped low enough, she latched on with surprising strength, pulling it down and gnawing on the soft beak with a satisfied coo.

"You're a natural beast-tamer," Harry said, lying down next to her. He tapped her nose gently. "But you can't eat a hippogriff, Danny. That's rude."

Danny babbled in response, releasing the toy to pat Harry's cheek with a slobbery hand. Harry made a dramatic choking sound. "Ah! Baby drool! My one weakness!"

He flopped backward with a groan, limbs sprawled dramatically. Danny stared at him for a moment, then let out a delighted shriek, her tiny body bouncing with excitement.

From the doorway, Y/N and Regulus watched the scene unfold. Y/N's arms were crossed, a smile softening her face. "I give it three seconds before she crawls after him," she whispered.

"Two," Regulus corrected.

As if on cue, Danny tipped forward, arms wobbling as she pushed herself toward her brother. Her movements were clumsy but determined, her little fists digging into the blanket.

"She's doing it!" Y/N breathed.

"Go, Danny!" Regulus encouraged softly.

Harry peeked through one eye when he heard the rustling. His mouth dropped open. "You're crawling!" he gasped, sitting up. "Go, Danny, go!"

Danny let out a gurgling laugh as she reached Harry's knee and promptly face-planted into his leg. Unbothered, she turned her head to grin up at him, her cheeks flushed with effort.

"You're the best little sister ever," Harry said, scooping her into his arms. He stood and turned toward their parents. "Mama! Baba! Did you see? She crawled!"

"We saw, sweetheart," Y/N said, wiping away a tear with the back of her hand.

Regulus stepped forward and ruffled Harry's hair. "Good job, big brother. Looks like she's trying to keep up with you already."

Danny babbled happily from Harry's arms, then stuck her thumb in her mouth and leaned against his chest, suddenly exhausted from her grand adventure.

"She's gonna be unstoppable," Harry said proudly.

Y/N wrapped an arm around Regulus's waist and smiled. "She already is."

TWO-YEAR-OLD DANNY AND FIVE-YEAR-OLD HARRY

The Black-Potter household was rarely quiet these days, not with a curious, toddling two-year-old exploring every corner and a protective big brother trailing after her like a miniature sentry.

"Hazzy!" Danny's delighted voice rang through the sitting room as she toddled across the rug on unsteady legs. Her chubby arms were outstretched toward her brother, who knelt with his arms wide open.

"That's me!" Harry said with a grin, scooping her up and twirling her around. "Hazzy is here to save the day!"

Danny squealed with laughter, her dark curls bouncing with each spin. "Hazzy! Hazzy!"

From the armchair, Y/N smiled over her cup of tea. "Still not calling you Harry, huh?"

"Nope," Harry said, plopping down on the couch with Danny nestled against him. "I've tried to teach her, but she just keeps saying 'Hazzy.'"

"It's cute," Y/N said softly, watching as Danny poked at the buttons on Harry's sweater.

The sound of the front door opening interrupted their moment. Danny's eyes lit up, and she scrambled out of Harry's lap, nearly tripping over her own feet.

"Baba!" she cried, sprinting toward the hallway.

"Danny!" Regulus's voice answered with equal enthusiasm.

By the time he entered the room, he had Danny perched on his hip, her tiny hands clinging to his collar. His usually composed expression was softened into a rare, tender smile.

"And how's my little morning star today?" he asked, brushing her curls away from her face.

"Hazzy play!" she announced proudly.

"Ah, yes. The famous Hazzy." Regulus's gray eyes flicked to Harry with a smirk. "How are you handling your new identity, son?"

Harry shrugged. "I've accepted my fate."

Danny giggled and buried her face in Regulus's neck.

"She's been chasing him around all day," Y/N said with a laugh.

"Hazzy run fast," Danny agreed, peeking out with wide grey eyes. "Danny run too!"

"Oh, do you now?" Regulus asked, raising an eyebrow. "Well, maybe Baba will have to race you later."

"Race!" Danny pumped her fists in the air.

Regulus sat beside Y/N, his arm resting along the back of the couch. Danny squirmed until she was back on the floor, wobbling over to Harry.

"Hazzy, run!" she commanded.

Harry gave his parents an exaggerated sigh. "Duty calls," he said before launching into a playful chase.

Y/N leaned her head on Regulus's shoulder, watching them with a soft smile.

"She's getting so big," she murmured.

"Too big," Regulus agreed. "And that name's going to stick, isn't it?"

"Absolutely," Y/N said, laughing as Harry darted around the coffee table with Danny hot on his heels. "Hazzy's here to stay."

And as Danny's delighted laughter echoed through the house, it was hard to imagine life any other way.

The soft morning light filtered through the curtains, casting golden patterns across the bedroom floor. Y/N stirred, her eyes fluttering open just as the door creaked. She turned her head and smiled softly at the sight of Harry and Danny standing in the doorway, hand-in-hand.

Harry's chesnut hair stuck up in every direction, defying gravity as usual, while Danny's black curls were tangled into an impressive bird's nest. The two siblings were still in their pajamas: Harry's covered in faded Quidditch brooms, Danny's patterned with tiny moon and stars.

"Hazzy," Danny whispered, tugging on her brother's hand. "Mama wake?"

"Yeah, Danny," Harry reassured her, squeezing her fingers. "See? Mama's awake."

Y/N sat up, tucking the blanket around her legs. "Good morning, my loves," she greeted softly.

Danny beamed, revealing the gap where her front tooth had recently fallen out. "Mama!" She let go of Harry's hand and barreled across the room, climbing clumsily onto the bed. "I had dream 'bout dragon!"

"Did you?" Y/N caught her daughter and pulled her into her lap. "Was it scary?"

Danny shook her head fiercely. "No! Big dragon, nice dragon! Hazzy say it like Uncle Charlie's dragon."

"Ah," Y/N chuckled, glancing toward Harry as he shuffled into the room. "Your brother knows a lot about dragons."

Harry gave a sheepish smile and climbed onto the bed beside them. "I just told her about Norberta," he said, leaning into his mother's side. "Danny likes dragons now."

"I see," Y/N mused, brushing Danny's wild curls with her fingers. "Maybe one day we'll visit Uncle Charlie in Romania and see real dragons."

Danny gasped. "We go? See dragon?"

"One day," Y/N promised.

The sound of footsteps interrupted them. Regulus appeared in the doorway, hair tousled and wand in hand, eyes sharp until he took in the sight before him. "Merlin," he exhaled, lowering his wand. "I thought I heard an intruder."

"Hazzy and Danny," Danny said proudly, throwing her arms wide. "Not 'truder!"

Regulus grinned and crossed the room, sliding his wand into his pajama pocket. "No, you and your brother are definitely not intruders." He sat on the edge of the bed and ruffled Harry's hair, not that it made any difference. "Why are you two up so early?"

"Danny had a dragon dream," Harry answered, tilting his head toward his sister. "Wanted Mama and Baba to know."

Regulus nodded solemnly. "Dreams about dragons are very important. Good thing you told us, Danny."

Danny's eyes sparkled. "I 'member the dragon name!"

"Oh?" Y/N asked. "What's its name, sweetheart?"

Danny scrunched her nose in thought, then declared, "Spork!"

There was a beat of silence before Harry snorted with laughter. "Spork? That's not a dragon name!"

"Is too!" Danny huffed.

"Spork the Dragon," Regulus said with mock seriousness. "A fearsome creature is known across the land for its...sporkiness."

Harry collapsed into giggles, and Danny clapped her hands in delight. Y/N just shook her head fondly. "You're encouraging her."

"Absolutely," Regulus said, reaching out to pull Y/N closer. "She gets her creativity from you."

Danny snuggled into Y/N's lap, thumb slipping into her mouth as the excitement wore off. Harry stretched and leaned against Regulus's shoulder.

"Family nap?" Y/N suggested.

"Family nap," Regulus agreed, flicking his wand to dim the sunlight.

Soon, tangled curls and messy hair were nestled together in a cozy, sleepy pile of warmth and love.

The snow had fallen thick and heavy overnight, blanketing the Black-Potter garden in a pristine, shimmering layer of white. From the warmth of the living room, three-year-old Danica Potter-Black pressed her nose against the frosted window, her wide gray eyes sparkling with excitement.

"Hazzy! Hazzy!" she squealed, spinning around and racing toward her brother. Her curls bounced wildly with each step. "Look! Snow! Lots and lots!"

Harry, now seven years old and quite proud of his 'big brother' status, looked up from the enchanted chessboard where his pieces were grumbling about his last move. He followed her pointing finger to the window and grinned. "You wanna go build a snowman?"

"Yes! Yes! Snowman!" Danny clapped her hands, hopping in place.

"Okay, okay! Let's get our coats."

The two of them bundled up under Y/N's watchful eye. Harry wriggled into his green scarf while Danny impatiently thrust her tiny arms into her puffy coat. Her mittens dangled from strings through the sleeves, and Harry helped her tug them on properly.

"Be careful out there, you two," Y/N called from the door. "And don't eat the snow unless you're sure it's clean!"

"Mama!" Danny giggled. "I'm not gonna eat snow!"

"We'll be careful!" Harry promised.

The garden was a winter wonderland. Their boots crunched on the fresh snow, and their breath clouded in the crisp air. Harry immediately started rolling a ball for the base of their snowman. Danny tried to mimic him, but her ball mostly crumbled.

"Hazzy," she pouted, "mine's not workin'."

"Here, like this." Harry knelt beside her, guiding her hands to press the snow gently and roll it across the ground. "See?"

"Ooooh! I do it!" Danny's face lit up as her snowball grew.

Together, they built a lopsided but proud snowman. Danny insisted he needed a 'silly face,' so Harry found sticks for the arms while she stuck stones into the snow in a haphazard grin. Harry placed his own scarf around its neck and stepped back. "What do you think?"

Danny squinted critically at their creation. "Hazzy, he's cold."

"Well...yeah," Harry said, puzzled. "He's a snowman."

"Needs a hat," she declared. "For warm!"

"Okay, let's get one."

The door opened before they reached the house. Regulus stood there, holding a knitted hat with a bemused expression. "I heard we have a cold snowman in need of a hat?"

"Baba!" Danny ran to him, wrapping her arms around his leg. "We made a snowman! Hazzy helped!"

"I saw," Regulus said, placing the hat on her head for a moment before transferring it to the snowman's icy head. "Looks like a very happy snowman."

Danny beamed and turned back to the snowman. "Now he's warm," she said with satisfaction.

Harry ruffled her hair. "Good job, Snow Queen."

Danny giggled, reaching for a handful of snow. Without warning, she flung it at Harry. It splattered against his coat.

"Oh, you're in for it now!" Harry scooped up snow in both hands.

Screaming with laughter, Danny tried to dodge but ended up flat on her back in the snow, her curls dusted white. "Hazzy! Noooo!"

Regulus shook his head with a smile, leaning against the doorframe as his children tumbled about in the snow. Y/N appeared beside him, slipping her hand into his.

"They're growing up so fast," she murmured.

"They are," Regulus agreed, squeezing her fingers. "But right now, they're exactly where they should be."

A snowball suddenly splattered against Regulus's chest. He looked down in shock to find Danny standing there, cheeks pink with cold and triumph.

"Baba!" she shrieked with glee.

Y/N burst into laughter as Regulus grabbed a handful of snow and raised an eyebrow. "Oh, you started it now, little star."

The snowy battle that followed became a memory they'd cherish for years to come.

FOUR-YEAR-OLD DANY AND EIGHT-YEAR-OLD HARRY

The Black-Potter household was quiet, the warm glow of the hearth casting faint shadows along the walls. Outside, the moon hung low in the sky, bathing the snowy ground in silver light. Inside, however, two little figures shuffled across the carpeted hallway, their steps careful and hushed.

"Shh, Danny," whispered eight-year-old Harry, glancing back at his sister. "You're being loud."

"I'm not!" Danny pouted, her black curls bouncing as she clutched her stuffed dragon tightly. "Hazzy, my feet are just squeaky."

Harry stifled a laugh. "Okay, just...less squeaky feet, alright?"

Danny nodded solemnly and adjusted her grip on her dragon. Together, they tiptoed toward the kitchen.

The kitchen door creaked as Harry slowly pushed it open. He froze, holding his breath. Danny copied him, her wide eyes fixed on his face. After a long moment of silence, they exchanged triumphant grins and slipped inside.

"Alright," Harry whispered, "the cookies should be in the blue tin."

Danny squinted at the counter. "That's really high," she said, voice heavy with skepticism.

"That's why we have teamwork," Harry declared, dragging a chair across the floor with a low screech. They both winced, then stared at the doorway. No footsteps. No Baba with his scary frown. No Mama with her disappointed head shake.

Harry climbed onto the chair, balancing with practiced ease. "Okay," he murmured, stretching toward the cookie tin. His fingers brushed the lid. "Almost...got it..."

Danny watched, her dragon tucked under her arm, her curls falling in her face. "Hazzy, careful!"

"I'm fine," Harry assured her. With a final stretch, he snagged the tin and pulled it toward him.

The tin wobbled. Harry's heart stopped. The container tilted and tumbled off the edge.

"No!" Danny gasped.

Harry lunged and caught it mid-air. "Ha! Got it!"

Danny clapped her hands silently. "You're the bestest," she whispered.

Harry hopped down and opened the tin. The rich scent of chocolate-chip cookies drifted into the air. "Okay, Danny, take one."

Danny's eyes lit up as she reached in and grabbed the biggest cookie she could find. Harry took one for himself, then replaced the lid and carefully slid the tin under the table.

They turned toward the door just as the kitchen light snapped on.

"And what do we have here?"

The siblings froze mid-chew.

Regulus Black stood in the doorway, arms crossed, dark hair mussed from sleep. His grey eyes were sharp, but his lips twitched at the corners.

Danny let out a muffled squeak and ducked behind Harry. "Uh-oh," she whispered.

"Uh-oh is right," Regulus said, stepping forward. "Midnight cookie thieves, I see."

"We're not thieves," Harry said quickly. "We're...we're taste testers."

"Yeah," Danny piped up, peeking around Harry. "Mama said cookies gotta be tasted."

Regulus arched a brow. "Did she?"

Harry gulped. "Well, not these cookies. But...cookies in general."

"Mmm." Regulus knelt down so he was eye-level with them. "Do taste testers usually sneak around in the dark?"

"Only when it's a secret mission," Danny whispered.

Regulus pressed his lips together, trying not to smile. "Well, in that case," he said softly, "I guess you'll need a lookout next time."

Harry's mouth fell open. "Wait...you're not mad?"

"Oh, I'm mad," Regulus said, though his voice lacked any bite. "But I'll let it slide this time. Now, off to bed, you two."

"Yes, Baba," they chorused.

As he herded them back to their rooms, Regulus glanced up and met Y/N's amused gaze from the top of the stairs.

"Told you they'd go for the cookies," she whispered.

"You set us up!" Harry exclaimed.

Danny gasped. "Mama!"

Y/N laughed softly. "What can I say? I know my little cookie monsters." She leaned down to kiss the tops of their heads. "Now, go to sleep. We'll discuss your sneaky skills in the morning."

As Harry and Danny shuffled into their rooms, Regulus smiled to himself. Nights like these made every sleep-deprived morning worth it.

FIVE-YEAR-OLD DANNY AND NINE-YEAR-OLD HARRY

The Black-Potter household was rarely quiet, especially with an energetic four-year-old like Danny and a lively eight-year-old like Harry running about. Laughter, footsteps racing down hallways, and the occasional magical mishap filled the air with a warmth that made Grimmauld Place feel more like home than it ever had before. But today, the usual harmony was broken by the sharp crack of a slammed door.

"You're mean, Hazzy!" Danny's tiny voice, thick with tears, echoed down the hall.

Harry stood frozen just outside his bedroom door, his chest tight with guilt. Moments ago, they'd been playing with his toy broomstick. Danny had begged for a turn, but Harry had refused, insisting she was too little and would just break it. When she'd tried to grab it anyway, he'd snapped at her.

"You're just a baby," he'd said. "You don't know how to fly right."

The words had hit harder than any hex. Danny's face had crumpled, her big gray eyes filling with tears. Then she'd run to her room and slammed the door, leaving Harry with the broomstick in his hands and regret in his heart.

From downstairs, Y/N heard the door slam and exchanged a knowing look with Regulus, who was levitating a stack of books onto a high shelf.

"Sounds like trouble," she said.

"Sounds like our children," Regulus replied, lowering the last book into place. "Shall I play the terrifying father figure?"

Y/N arched an eyebrow. "Terrifying? You?"

"I was once a Death Eater."

"Mm-hmm," she said, amused. "Why don't you try the compassionate father figure instead?"

"I'll give it my best shot," Regulus said, following her up the stairs.

They found Harry slumped against the wall outside Danny's door, twirling the toy broom in his hands. His shoulders sagged under the weight of his remorse.

"Rough day, kiddo?" Y/N asked gently as she crouched beside him.

Harry's bottom lip jutted out slightly, though he tried to hide it. "I made Danny cry."

Regulus sat down on Harry's other side. "Yeah, we heard," he said softly. "Want to tell us what happened?"

"She wanted to fly my broom," Harry mumbled. "I said no because she's little. And then she tried to take it anyway, and I... I said she was a baby."

Y/N winced. "Ah," she said. "Calling your sister a baby? That'll sting."

"She is a baby," Harry muttered, but even he didn't sound convinced.

"She doesn't see it that way," Regulus said. "She looks up to you, Harry. She wants to do what you do. Be like you. So when you said she was a baby, she probably felt like...you thought she wasn't good enough."

Harry's eyes widened. "I didn't mean that."

"I know," Regulus reassured him. "But sometimes, what we say doesn't match what we feel."

Y/N brushed Harry's hair back fondly. "Being a big brother is hard sometimes. You have to find a way to teach her without making her feel small."

"So...what do I do now?" Harry asked.

"Start with an apology," Y/N said.

Harry took a deep breath, then knocked on Danny's door. "Danny? Can I come in?"

There was a long silence. Then a muffled "Go 'way."

"Please?" Harry tried again. "I'm really sorry. I was mean, and I didn't mean to be."

The door creaked open an inch. One gray eye peeked through the gap.

"You called me a baby," Danny said, voice wobbly.

"I know," Harry said, his heart aching at the sight of her tear-streaked face. "I'm sorry. You're not a baby. You're my sister, and you're really brave and smart. I was just scared you'd fall and get hurt."

Danny opened the door a bit more. "You scared for me?"

"Yeah," Harry said. "'Cause I love you."

Danny's lips trembled. Then, with a tiny sniff, she launched herself at Harry, wrapping her arms around his waist. "I love you too, Hazzy," she mumbled into his shirt.

From their spot down the hall, Y/N and Regulus exchanged smiles.

"Think they'll remember this the next time they fight?" Y/N asked softly.

"Not a chance," Regulus replied with a chuckle. "But we'll be here to remind them."

And as Harry pulled Danny into his room to give her a broomstick-flying lesson, the warmth of family settled back into the house once more.

SIX-YEAR-OLD DANNY AND TEN-YEAR-OLD HARRY

The smell of buttery toast and sizzling bacon filled the cozy kitchen of the Black-Potter household. ten-year-old Harry sat at the table, munching on a piece of toast, while six-year-old Danica, her wild dark curls sticking in every direction, gleefully smashed her scrambled eggs with her spoon.

"Danny, you're supposed to eat that," Harry said, raising an eyebrow.

Danica grinned, her green eyes twinkling with mischief. "I am! But first, I have to make it flat. Flat eggs taste better."

Harry sighed dramatically but couldn't help smiling. His little sister always had a very particular way of doing things. "Whatever you say, munchkin."

As Danica resumed her egg-flattening mission, footsteps echoed from the hallway. Harry glanced up just in time to see his father, Regulus, stroll into the kitchen. His hair was slightly damp from a shower, and he wore his usual elegant but relaxed expression. Without a word, Regulus walked straight to where Y/N stood at the stove, flipping pancakes.

"Good morning, my love," Regulus murmured, slipping his arms around her waist from behind. He dipped his head and pressed a soft kiss to her cheek.

"Morning," Y/N replied with a smile, leaning into his embrace.

Regulus, however, wasn't content with just one kiss. He trailed a series of gentle kisses along her jawline, then down to the curve of her neck. Y/N giggled softly as he nuzzled the sensitive spot near her ear.

"Regulus Black," she scolded half-heartedly, "the kids are right there."

"Let them learn what true love looks like," Regulus replied with a smirk before pressing a kiss to her temple.

Across the table, Harry froze mid-chew. Danica stopped smashing her eggs. The siblings locked eyes, and without a word, both scrunched their noses and made loud, exaggerated gagging noises.

"Blech! Gross!"

"Ewwwww! Baba's kissing Mama!" Danica squealed, dropping her spoon and covering her eyes with sticky fingers. "Hazzy, make it stop!"

Harry clutched his chest dramatically. "I think I'm gonna be sick," he groaned, slumping over the table.

Regulus lifted his head and arched a single eyebrow at his children. "You two are impossible," he drawled, though amusement danced in his gray eyes.

Y/N laughed, turning to face him. "Told you," she teased.

"Kissing's gross!" Danica declared from behind her tiny hands.

"Yeah, Baba," Harry agreed, sitting back up with an exaggerated shudder. "Keep the mushy stuff private, will you?"

"Private?" Regulus echoed, feigning offense. "This is my home, my kitchen, and my wife. I can kiss her whenever I want."

"Not in front of us!" Danica insisted, peeking through her fingers.

Y/N leaned her head against Regulus's chest and laughed. "Maybe we should tone it down," she said.

"Hmm," Regulus hummed as if considering it. Then, with a devilish grin, he planted a loud, exaggerated kiss on Y/N's cheek.

"EWWWW!" Harry and Danica chorused.

Danica dramatically slid off her chair and collapsed onto the floor. "I've been poisoned!" she moaned, splaying her limbs across the tiles.

Harry followed suit, flopping onto the ground beside her. "We're doomed! Doomed by parental affection!"

Y/N pressed a hand to her mouth to stifle her laughter while Regulus smirked down at his children. "Ah, well," he said. "If you're both doomed, that means more pancakes for me and your mother."

Danica's eyes popped open. "Wait! I'm not doomed! I'm hungry!"

Harry sat up immediately. "Me too!"

"Mysterious recovery," Regulus mused as he helped them both back into their chairs.

Y/N plated the pancakes and set them on the table. As everyone dug in, Regulus reached for Y/N's hand under the table and squeezed it.

Harry saw the gesture but let it slide this time. Mostly because there were pancakes. And pancakes always came first.

previous chapter <--> next chapter

I ADORE your potter-black family posts. Could you please write something about reader finding out she’s pregnant OR like reader and regulus talking about having another kid and they’re worried about how harry will feel cuz they don’t want him to feel replaced? ILY MUAH

Harry meets Danny

Harry meets his little sister Danny.

[Regulus Black x fem Potter! reader]

word count: 899 words

warnings: fluff, mentions of pregnancy, harry being a cutie patootie

note: I love this prompt so much.

-

The soft glow of candlelight filled the cozy Black-Potter living room, casting flickering shadows along the walls. Outside, snowflakes drifted down like bits of silver confetti, frosting the windows in delicate lace patterns. Y/N sat curled up on the couch, one hand resting on the small but unmistakable curve of her stomach. Across from her, Regulus paced with the anxiety of a man who once battled dark forces but now faced something infinitely more daunting: telling Harry he was going to have a sibling.

"You're going to wear a hole in the rug," Y/N murmured, a smile tugging at her lips.

"I'm trying to figure out the right words," Regulus said, stopping mid-stride. He ran a hand through his hair, his brow furrowed. "How do you tell a six-year-old that everything is about to change?"

Y/N patted the cushion beside her. "We tell him with love. And honesty." She tilted her head toward the staircase. "He's probably still awake, you know."

Regulus sighed, resigned, and climbed the stairs. Moments later, he returned, Harry perched sleepily on his hip. The boy's messy black hair stuck out at odd angles, his green eyes blinking in the dim light.

"Mama? Baba?" Harry rubbed his eyes. "Why am I awake?"

Regulus settled Harry between them on the couch. Y/N shifted to face him fully, brushing his hair back fondly.

"We have something important to tell you," she began.

Harry's eyes widened. "Is it bad?"

"No, sweetheart," Y/N said softly. "It's something wonderful." She exchanged a glance with Regulus before taking a breath. "You're going to be a big brother."

Harry froze. He looked from Y/N's belly to Regulus, and then back again. "A brother?"

"Or a sister," Regulus said. "We don't know yet."

Harry's mouth formed a small "o." Silence stretched between them like a fragile thread.

"Are you excited?" Y/N asked, her voice gentle.

Harry's legs swung against the couch. "I dunno. Will you still have time for me?"

Y/N's heart cracked at the uncertainty in his voice. She pulled him into her arms, cradling him tightly. "Oh, my love. There is nothing and no one that could ever replace you. You made us parents. And we will always have time for you. Always."

Harry sniffled into her shoulder. "Promise?"

"I swear it," Y/N said.

Regulus leaned in and kissed the crown of Harry's head. "You'll never be alone, Harry. You'll have us. And you'll have a little brother or sister to protect, to teach...maybe even to prank if you inherit any of your Uncle Sirius's tendencies."

That earned a watery giggle. Harry looked up. "I get to teach them stuff?"

"Absolutely," Y/N said with a smile. "Like how to fly a broom and sneak extra biscuits from the kitchen when Baba isn't looking."

"Oi!" Regulus shot her a look of mock disapproval, but his eyes were warm.

Harry's grin grew. "Okay," he whispered. "I think being a big brother sounds kinda cool."

Y/N pressed a kiss to his forehead. "You're going to be the best big brother ever, sweetheart."

That night, after Harry had fallen asleep between them, one hand resting protectively on Y/N's belly, Regulus whispered into the darkness, "He's going to be okay. We're going to be okay."

Y/N laced her fingers with his. "We already are."

-

The sun was barely peeking over the horizon when six-year-old Harry Potter-Black was woken up by the sound of soft footsteps. His wild hair stuck up in every direction as he rubbed his eyes and squinted at the doorway of his bedroom.

His Baba stood there, hair disheveled, an uncharacteristically wide grin on his usually serious face.

"Harry," Regulus whispered, voice thick with emotion. "She's here. Your sister's here."

Harry didn't need any more convincing. He scrambled out of bed, heart racing with excitement. "She's really here?" he asked breathlessly.

Regulus held out his hand, and Harry grabbed it tightly as they padded down the hall toward the master bedroom. The door was slightly ajar, and Harry peeked in.

His Mama was propped up against pillows, hair damp and face glowing with a tired but radiant smile. In her arms was a tiny bundle wrapped in a soft, moon-patterned blanket.

"Hi, sweetheart," Y/N whispered as Harry hesitated in the doorway. "Come meet your sister."

Harry crept forward, eyes wide. "She's so small," he breathed, standing on his tiptoes to see better.

"Would you like to hold her?" Y/N asked softly.

Harry's green eyes shot up to hers. "Can I?"

Y/N nodded, shifting slightly as Regulus moved to sit beside her, guiding Harry into the safe space between them. With infinite care, they helped him cradle the tiny baby.

"This is Danica," Y/N said, brushing a gentle finger along the baby's soft cheek. "Danica Potter-Black."

"Danny," Harry whispered, staring at the delicate face. "Hi, Danny. I'm your big brother. I'm gonna take care of you forever."

Danica gave a tiny sigh, her tiny fingers curling into a fist. Harry's heart melted.

"She's like a morning star," he whispered.

Regulus wrapped an arm around his son. "That's exactly what her name means, Harry. Morning star."

Harry beamed. "I love her already."

Y/N felt her heart squeeze with happiness as she met Regulus's gaze over their children's heads. At that moment, their little family felt complete.

-

previous chapter <- -> next chapter

as a catholic, i find this so funny

*In a church*

Sirius: Why are you looking at me like that?

Regulus: I just don't wanna miss it when you burst into flames.

Meeting Walburga

Regulus brings Harry to meet his grandmother

[Regulus Black x Fem Potter! reader]

word count: 785

warnings: hurt/comfort, Walburga being a meanie to Harry

-

Regulus wasn’t entirely sure why he agreed to this.

It was a terrible idea. He knew that. Y/N knew that. Even Kreacher, who had loyally followed him into this new life, had given him a wary look when he mentioned visiting 12 Grimmauld Place.

Yet, here they were.

Harry held Regulus’ hand tightly as they stood outside the Black family’s ancestral home. The looming townhouse was as dark and unwelcoming as ever, its iron-wrought serpent door knocker glinting in the dim London light. Regulus exhaled sharply, tightening his grip on his son’s small hand.

“Stay close to me,” he murmured.

Harry nodded, his green eyes wide as he stared up at the tall building. “Are you sure she won’t like… hex me?” he whispered, only half-joking.

Regulus almost smirked. She would if she could.

Instead, he knocked.

The door swung open almost immediately, revealing Kreacher. His large, bat-like ears twitched as he looked down at Harry. For a long moment, he was silent, his expression unreadable. Then, to Harry’s surprise, the elf bowed low.

“Master Regulus,” he croaked. “Young Master Potter.”

Harry’s eyebrows shot up. Master Potter? No one had ever called him that before.

Regulus gave a curt nod, stepping inside and ushering Harry in after him. The house smelled the same—dust, old magic, and a hint of something burning in the fireplace. The walls were lined with dark portraits, and Harry nearly jumped as one of them moved.

But before he could get a proper look, a voice rang through the house—sharp, commanding, and dripping with disdain.

“Regulus.”

Harry turned toward the voice and saw her.

Walburga Black stood at the foot of the grand staircase, dressed in deep emerald green. Her sharp features were set in stone, her dark eyes taking in her son before shifting to Harry.

The temperature in the room seemed to drop.

Regulus straightened his shoulders, his grip on Harry’s hand firm. “Mother.”

Walburga’s lips thinned as her gaze swept over Harry like he was an insect. “So,” she said slowly, coldly. “This is what you’ve been reduced to. Raising a half-blood.”

Harry stiffened, instinctively stepping closer to Regulus.

Regulus’ expression didn’t change. “He is my son.”

Walburga scoffed. “He is James Potter’s son.” Her voice was venomous. “A disgrace to the family name.”

Harry felt his face grow hot, but before he could say anything, Regulus spoke—his voice steady, but edged with steel.

“He is my son,” he repeated, quieter this time. “And I will not tolerate you speaking of him that way.”

Walburga’s eyes darkened. “You dare bring him into this house?”

“I brought him here so you could meet your grandson,” Regulus said, his tone even. “Not to hear your outdated prejudices.”

Harry bit his lip, gripping Regulus’ sleeve. He didn’t understand everything, but he knew she didn’t like him. He could feel it.

For a long, tense moment, Walburga simply stared at them.

Then, to Harry’s utter shock, she let out a low chuckle.

“You’ve changed,” she murmured, her gaze locked onto Regulus. “Not that it matters. The blood in your veins remains the same. That thing” —her eyes flicked to Harry— “does not.”

Harry flinched.

Regulus’ jaw tightened. “Come, Harry,” he said, his voice calm but firm. “We’re leaving.”

Harry didn’t hesitate, stepping quickly in line beside him as Regulus turned on his heel.

As they reached the door, Walburga’s voice rang out again.

“When the time comes,” she said, “you’ll regret your choices, Regulus.”

Regulus didn’t stop walking.

Kreacher, who had remained silent through the exchange, gave a deep bow as they passed.

As soon as they stepped outside, Harry let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding.

Regulus glanced down at him. “Are you alright?”

Harry hesitated, then nodded. “…She doesn’t like me.”

Regulus sighed, running a hand through his dark hair. “That doesn’t matter,” he muttered. Then, more softly, “I do.”

Harry blinked up at him.

“…Mama does, too,” he said after a moment.

Regulus smirked. “Of course she does. She’s your mother.”

Harry smiled a little, shuffling closer to Regulus as they started walking again.

“…Do you think Kreacher likes me?”

Regulus chuckled, glancing back at the house. “I think he’s figuring it out.”

Harry hummed. “I liked him.”

Regulus raised a brow. “You did?”

“He bowed,” Harry said simply. “I think that means he kinda likes me.”

Regulus shook his head in amusement. “You are far too optimistic.”

But as they made their way home, he found himself silently grateful.

Harry would never know the cold walls of that house. He would never be raised in darkness, surrounded by cruel whispers of blood purity and superiority.

He had a family.

A real one.

-

previous chapter <- -> next chapter

PROMPT LIST

I'm having writers block and I need you guys to help me. PLEASE.

-

A1: "I didn’t mean to fall for you… but here we are."

A2: "Stop looking at me like that; I might actually kiss you."

A3: "You're shivering. C’mere, let me warm you up."

A4: "I swear I hate you—no, I'm not blushing!"

A5: "You remembered my favorite flower?"

A6: "If we get caught, I’m blaming you."

A7: "Dance with me… just once."

A8: "Your hand fits perfectly in mine."

A9: "I’ve never seen you look so happy."

A10: "Do you think we’ll always be like this?"

-

B1: "You can't leave me now—not when I just realized how much you mean to me."

B2: "Is it too soon to say I love you?"

B3: "I bet you can't catch me!"

B4: "Wait, are you jealous?"

B5: "You’ve always been my safe place."

B6: "Please, don’t let go of my hand."

B7: "Do you trust me?"

B8: "You're an idiot—but you're my idiot."

B9: "I’m scared… but I know you'll keep me safe."

B10: "I didn’t know you could dance like that."

-

C1: "You look beautiful when you laugh."

C2: "Are we really doing this?"

C3: "You stayed up all night waiting for me?"

C4: "I dare you to kiss me."

C5: "I’ve never felt like this before."

C6: "Don't make promises you can’t keep."

C7: "You’re covered in mud—what happened?"

C8: "You always know how to make me smile."

C9: "I didn't think you’d remember."

C10: "You wore that just to drive me crazy, didn’t you?"

-

D1: "I think I fell in love with you somewhere between the arguments and the laughter."

D2: "You're my best friend… and maybe something more."

D3: "Can I kiss you?"

D4: "You look ridiculous. And adorable."

D5: "I made this for you."

D6: "Promise me you’ll come back."

D7: "You're ticklish? Oh, you’re in trouble now."

D8: "You’re the one thing I can’t lose."

D9: "This feels like home."

D10: "I've seen you at your worst, and I'm still here."

-

E1: "I saved you a seat."

E2: "You're staring."

E3: "That was my last piece of chocolate, and I gave it to you. That’s love."

E4: "Don’t leave me hanging—what were you going to say?"

E5: "You’re seriously going out dressed like that?"

E6: "I can't stop thinking about you."

E7: "You call that a snowball? Watch this!"

E8: "I’ll be right here when you wake up."

E9: "You're not getting rid of me that easily."

E10: "We’re not just friends, and you know it."

-

F1: "I’ve never seen you without your glasses before."

F2: "I didn’t think you'd notice."

F3: "You showed up… you actually showed up."

F4: "We’re a mess, but we’re our mess."

F5: "You’re freezing. Here, take my jacket."

F6: "Why do I always end up cleaning your messes?"

F7: "I thought you'd forgotten me."

F8: "You're the best thing that's ever happened to me."

F9: "We should do this more often."

F10: "I didn’t kiss you because I had to. I kissed you because I wanted to."

-

G1: "Hold my hand. They’ll never suspect a thing."

G2: "You were talking in your sleep… about me."

G3: "I thought you hated me."

G4: "Why are you looking at me like that?"

G5: "I don’t care about the risk. I care about you."

G6: "You're really bad at this, you know."

G7: "I wish you could see yourself through my eyes."

G8: "Let's run away together."

G9: "You remembered."

G10: "You're not just my partner-in-crime. You're my everything."

-

H1: "You’ve got something on your face—here, let me."

H2: "I can’t stop smiling when I’m with you."

H3: "You said you'd catch me. So catch me."

H4: "Are you cold? Or are you just using an excuse to cuddle me?"

H5: "I made you a playlist."

H6: "We always end up like this, don’t we?"

H7: "You make even the worst days better."

H8: "I didn’t mean to say that… but I meant it."

H9: "I’ll fight anyone who makes you cry."

H10: "You’ve always been the one."

-

I1: "I dare you to kiss me… again."

I2: "Is that my sweater you're wearing?"

I3: "I’ve never been this happy before."

I4: "Come on, slowpoke!"

I5: "You did this… for me?"

I6: "I can't believe you made me a mixtape."

I7: "You know I hate goodbyes."

I8: "You're the first person I want to tell everything to."

I9: "Stay. Please."

I10: "You’ve ruined me for anyone else."

-

J1: "You have no idea how much you mean to me."

J2: "You're the best thing that’s ever happened to me."

J3: "I don't need the stars when I have you."

J4: "Are you seriously tickling me right now?"

J5: "You're the only person who makes me feel like this."

J6: "You remembered my favorite movie."

J7: "I never believed in love at first sight… until I met you."

J8: "I could get used to this."

J9: "I didn’t want to need you… but I do."

J10: "We’re writing our own story now."

Mom and Dad.

While Regulus is at work, Y/N brings Harry to his parents' grave.

[Regulus Black x Fem Potter!reader]

word count: 558 words.

warnings: Angst, mentions of death

note: This is the fourth chapter of my Potter-Black series but Regulus is hardly mentioned. This is because the chapter is focused on Harry, Y/N, Lily, and James.

-

The morning was crisp, the air carrying the scent of damp earth as Y/N wrapped Harry’s scarf snugly around his small frame. The autumn leaves crunched beneath their feet as they walked up the familiar path leading to the graveyard in Godric’s Hollow.

Regulus was at the Ministry, drowning in paperwork, leaving Y/N with the quiet decision to visit her brother alone—well, almost alone.

Harry, bundled up in his coat and mittens, clutched her hand tightly. “Mama,” he asked, his voice soft, “why are we here?”

Y/N knelt beside him, brushing a few stray leaves from his curls. “We’re visiting your parents, love.”

Harry’s brow furrowed slightly, his young mind trying to piece it together. “My real mummy and daddy?”

Y/N swallowed past the lump in her throat and nodded. “Yes. Your Mama Lily and Daddy James.”

Harry’s grip on her hand tightened as he looked around. “But I never met them,” he whispered.

Y/N gave him a sad smile. “No, sweetheart. You were just a baby.” She cupped his cheek gently. “But they loved you so much.”

Hand in hand, they walked through the graveyard, past old, weathered headstones, until they reached the one she knew by heart.

Y/N let out a slow breath, kneeling before the headstone. Harry hesitated before mirroring her, his tiny fingers tracing the carved letters of their names.

“James Potter…” he murmured, then looked up at Y/N. “That’s my name too, right?”

She smiled softly. “Yes, love. Harry James Potter. Your daddy wanted you to have his name.”

Harry was quiet for a moment, then looked back at the grave. “Do you think he’d like me?” he asked hesitantly. “Daddy James?”

Y/N’s heart clenched, and she pulled him into a hug. “Oh, Harry,” she whispered, pressing a kiss to his forehead. “He would have adored you. You’re just like him—kind, brave, full of mischief.” She chuckled softly, stroking his messy black hair. “And you have your mama’s heart. So full of love.”

Harry’s little arms wrapped around her neck. “I wish I could meet them.”

Y/N closed her eyes against the sting of tears. “I know, sweetheart. Me too.”

For a long moment, they sat in silence, Y/N’s arms wrapped protectively around the little boy she had sworn to raise, to love, to keep safe.

After a while, Harry shifted in her embrace. “Do you think they can see me?”

Y/N let out a soft breath, glancing up at the sky. “I do,” she said firmly. “I think they watch over you every single day.”

Harry thought about that, then looked back at the grave. After a moment, he reached into his coat pocket and pulled something out.

A small, slightly battered toy stag.

His favorite.

Carefully, he placed it at the base of the headstone, patting it gently.

“You can have Prongsie,” he whispered. “I think you’d like him.”

Y/N had to bite her lip to keep herself from crying.

As the wind rustled through the trees, Harry turned back to her and asked, “Can we come back again?”

Y/N smiled, cupping his face. “Of course, love. As many times as you want.”

She took his hand once more, pressing one last kiss to the headstone before leading him away.

As they left, the autumn wind carried the sound of distant laughter, like a whisper of the past. And for the first time in a long time, Y/N swore she could feel her brother’s presence—warm, watching, proud.

-

previous chapter <- -> next chapter

Glasses !

SUMMARY: Y/N and Regulus take Harry to get glasses after he bumps straight into the door frame.

[Regulus Black x Fem Potter! reader]

warnings: Fluff, slightly humorous

words: 0.6k

-

It started with small things.

Harry missing his cup when reaching for his pumpkin juice at breakfast. Squinting at his books when Y/N or Regulus tried to get him to read. Tripping over his own feet more often than usual. At first, they thought it was just clumsiness—he was four, after all.

Then he walked straight into the doorframe.

Regulus, who had been sipping his tea, barely blinked as Harry let out a small oof and stumbled backward, rubbing his forehead. Y/N, however, immediately crouched down beside him.

“Harry, love, are you alright?” she asked, brushing his messy hair away to check for any bumps.

Harry pouted, rubbing his forehead. “The door moved.”

Regulus raised an unimpressed eyebrow. “No, it didn’t.”

Harry crossed his arms. “Well, it felt like it did.”

Y/N hummed, glancing at Regulus before looking back at Harry. “Sweetheart, have you been having trouble seeing things lately?”

Harry shrugged. “I dunno.”

Regulus sighed, setting down his tea. “I think we need to take him to the eye healer.”

Harry’s eyes widened in alarm. “A what?”

Y/N chuckled, adjusting her own glasses. “Someone who helps people see better. Like how I wear glasses, remember?”

Harry blinked, looking up at her. “Oh… but you look good in glasses.”

Y/N grinned. “And you will too if you need them.”

Harry frowned but didn’t argue.

The next day, after breakfast (which involved Sirius trying to convince Harry to wear an eyepatch instead of glasses because it was ‘cooler’), they made their way to St. Mungo’s Department of Magical Vision and Sight.

Harry swung his legs idly from his chair in the waiting area, glancing at Y/N. “Did you have to get glasses when you were little too?”

She smiled. “I did. I was about your age when my mum took me for my first pair.”

Harry considered this. “Did Daddy James wear them too?”

Y/N’s smile softened. “Yes, he did. Since he was a boy.”

Harry looked thoughtful. “Maybe I should get glasses… then I’ll match you and Daddy James.”

Regulus snorted. “As if you had a choice.”

Before Harry could respond, the healer called them in.

The eye healer, an older wizard with kind eyes, greeted them warmly. “Alright, young man, let’s see how those eyes are working.”

Harry went through a series of tests, from reading different-sized letters to following a floating quill with his eyes. He giggled when the quill changed colors but frowned when he struggled with some of the smaller letters.

After a few more checks, Healer Aldwyn nodded. “Well, my boy, you’re a bit nearsighted. Not too bad, but you’ll need some glasses to help you see clearly.”

Harry gasped. “Like Mama?”

Y/N smiled. “Just like me, love.”

Harry beamed. “Then I want glasses!”

At the attached vision shop, Harry tried on several pairs, wrinkling his nose at most of them.

“These,” he finally said, grabbing a pair of small, round frames. “They look like Mama’s, but smaller!”

Y/N’s heart melted. “Oh, love, you look adorable.”

Regulus smirked. “Now he just needs to start losing all of his books like you do.”

Y/N rolled her eyes and nudged him playfully.

As they walked out, Harry kept adjusting his glasses, looking around in amazement. “I can see so much! Look, Baba! The clouds are so fluffy! And the sign isn’t blurry anymore!”

Regulus smirked. “That is the point of glasses, Harry.”

Harry grinned up at Y/N. “We match now, Mama!”

Y/N ruffled his hair. “Yes, we do, love.”

Regulus glanced between them, then sighed. “Great. Now there are two of you.”

Y/N smirked. “Poor you.”

Harry giggled, and the three of them headed home—where Sirius, upon seeing Harry’s glasses, dramatically clutched his chest and declared, “MY GODSON LOOKS JUST LIKE JAMES! I’M HAVING AN EMOTIONAL CRISIS!” before proceeding to chase Harry around the house yelling, “NERD ALERT!”

Regulus groaned. Y/N laughed.

And Harry?

He just felt pretty cool.

-

previous chapter <- -> next chapter

Learning how to read

Regulus and Y/N try to teach Harry how to read

words: 0.5k

warnings: fluff, not proofread, alive Regulus and Sirius not being in Azkaban

“Alright, Harry, let’s try this again,” Y/N said patiently, tapping the open book in front of them. “What does this word say?”

Harry, sprawled across the plush rug in the Black family library, kicked his legs idly and squinted at the sentence. He traced the letters with his finger, lips moving as he tried to sound it out.

“C… ca… castle?” he guessed hopefully.

Y/N smiled. “Close! It’s a cauldron. You almost had it.”

Harry groaned dramatically and flopped onto his back. “This is so boring.”

Regulus, sitting in a chair nearby with his own book, arched an eyebrow. “Reading is not boring, Harry.”

Harry turned his head to stare at his Baba with a look of deep betrayal. “But it is! There aren’t even any dragons in this book!”

Y/N chuckled. “We have to practice the small words first, love. Then we can move on to dragons.”

Harry pouted. “But I want adventure stories now!”

Regulus sighed, rubbing his temple. “You won’t understand adventure stories if you can’t read properly.”

Harry huffed but reluctantly sat up again. “Fine,” he mumbled, picking up the book. “But only if I get a story about a dragon next.”

Before Y/N could agree, the library doors burst open.

“Never fear, Padfoot is here!” Sirius declared dramatically, striding into the room with a mischievous grin.

Regulus groaned. “Oh, no.”

Harry immediately perked up. “Uncle Siri!” He scrambled to his feet, rushing toward him.

Sirius scooped him up and twirled him in the air. “My favorite little troublemaker! What are you up to?”

“Reading lessons,” Y/N answered, crossing her arms.

Sirius wrinkled his nose. “Ugh. Sounds dull.”

Harry nodded eagerly. “It is!”

Regulus shut his book with a sigh. “We were making progress before you arrived.”

Sirius ignored him, digging into his coat and pulling out something that made Regulus’s eye twitch.

A brightly colored, illustrated comic book.

“Forget the boring old schoolbooks, Harry,” Sirius declared, wiggling the comic in front of him. “If you’re going to read, you should read something fun.”

Harry gasped. “What is it?”

Sirius grinned. “The Adventures of Martin the Mad Muggle!” He flipped open the pages, showing off the dramatic illustrations of a confused Muggle accidentally causing magical mayhem wherever he went.

Harry’s eyes widened in delight. “That looks amazing!”

Regulus pinched the bridge of his nose. “Absolutely not.”

“Absolutely yes,” Sirius shot back, smirking.

Y/N sighed, hiding her amusement. “Sirius, you’re not exactly helping.”

“Oh, come on,” Sirius said, plopping onto the rug beside Harry. “Think of it as… incentive! He wants adventure stories? Let him practice with this!”

Regulus glared. “That is not proper literature.”

Harry, meanwhile, was already flipping through the comic excitedly. “Look, Baba! There’s a dragon in this one!”

Regulus groaned as Y/N stifled a laugh.

Sirius winked. “See? Learning can be fun.”

Regulus muttered something under his breath that sounded suspicious like ‘you are the bane of my existence’, but ultimately, he sighed in defeat.

Y/N ruffled Harry’s hair and smirked at Sirius. “Fine. But if he starts writing his letters backward because of those ridiculous fonts, I’m blaming you.”

Sirius grinned, slinging an arm around his godson. “Deal.”

Harry, completely oblivious to the war being waged over his reading material, beamed. “This is the best lesson ever!”

Regulus groaned again.

Uncle Moony and Siri 🌟

Uncle Moony and Uncle Siri visit

[regulus black x fem potter! reader]

warnings: fluff

It was a quiet morning at the Potter-Black household, the kind that Y/N had learned to cherish. The storm from the night before had passed, leaving behind a crisp autumn breeze that drifted through the open windows. Harry sat cross-legged on the living room floor, carefully stacking his wooden blocks, his tongue peeking out in concentration.

Regulus was sitting in the armchair, a book in one hand, a cup of tea in the other, looking as composed as ever. Y/N was beside Harry on the rug, sorting through his toys when suddenly—

BANG. BANG. BANG.

The front door shook under the weight of impatient knocking.

Regulus barely looked up from his book. “I am not answering that,” he muttered, sipping tea.

Y/N sighed, already knowing who it was. “If we ignore him, he’ll just keep knocking louder.”

Sure enough—BANG. BANG. BA—

“Alright, alright!” Y/N called as she stood up and approached the door, throwing it open to reveal a very smug-looking Sirius Black, leaning casually against the frame.

“Why, hello there, darling sister-in-law,” Sirius greeted dramatically. “Your favorite Black has arrived.”

Behind him, Remus stood with a patient smile, holding a small box wrapped in brown paper. “I told him to knock like a normal person,” he said apologetically.

“I did knock like a normal person,” Sirius said, grinning as he stepped inside. “With enthusiasm.”

Y/N rolled her eyes but stepped aside to let them in.

At the sound of new voices, Harry perked up. His little face lit up, and he scrambled to his feet. “Uncle Siri! Uncle Moony!”

Sirius let out a bark of laughter as he scooped Harry up, spinning him in the air. “There’s my favorite kiddo! Getting bigger every time I see you, huh?”

Harry giggled wildly, his tiny hands gripping onto Sirius’s robes. “Faster, Uncle Siri!”

“Not in the house,” Regulus said flatly from his armchair.

Sirius ignored him and did one more spin before setting Harry down.

Remus crouched beside Harry, handing him the small package. “I brought you a little something, Harry,” he said warmly.

Harry gasped, taking the package with wide eyes. “A present?”

“Just a little one,” Remus said with a soft smile. “Go on, open it.”

Harry eagerly tore into the paper, revealing a small enchanted book filled with moving pictures of magical creatures. His face lit up. “Wow!” He carefully flipped through the pages, watching a tiny Hippogriff flap its wings before running to Y/N. “Mama, look!”

“That’s amazing, love,” Y/N said, ruffling his hair. “What do you say to Uncle Moony?”

“Thank you, Uncle Moony!” Harry beamed.

“Anytime, little one,” Remus replied, ruffling his hair in return.

Sirius, meanwhile, flopped dramatically onto the couch, stretching his arms across the back. “So, where’s the good tea? Or—better yet—firewhisky?”

Regulus finally looked up from his book, narrowing his eyes. “It’s eleven in the morning.”

“And?” Sirius smirked. “I was up late doing very important things.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow. “Sirius, was that very important thing a drinking contest with Mad-Eye Moody?”

“… No?”

Remus sighed. “Yes.”

Harry, still absorbed in his book, sat himself right next to Regulus in the armchair, leaning against him. Regulus instinctively wrapped an arm around the boy, holding his book in one hand while absentmindedly carding his fingers through Harry’s messy hair.

Sirius watched them with a smirk. “Never thought I’d see the day. My little brother—a proper parent.”

Regulus shot him a glare. “What is that supposed to mean?”

Sirius grinned. “It means I’m still processing the fact that you—the grumpy, brooding Black—ended up raising my godson instead of me.” He leaned forward, winking at Harry. “But don’t worry kid, I’m the fun uncle. When you get older, I’ll teach you all the best pranks.”

Harry giggled. “Really?”

Regulus scowled. “No.”

“Yes,” Sirius countered, nodding at Harry.

Y/N snorted. “No pranks today, at least. I’d rather not clean up whatever chaos you unleash.”

Sirius sighed dramatically. “Fine, fine. I’ll behave.” He paused, then grinned at Harry. “For now.”

Regulus groaned, rubbing his temple. “Why did I let you into my house?”

Remus chuckled, sipping his tea. “Because you secretly love us.”

Regulus scoffed but didn’t argue.

Y/N just smiled, watching as Harry curled up happily between them all, his laughter filling the house. Whatever storm had been outside last night, whatever nightmares had tried to creep in, Harry was safe here—with his family. Even if Sirius was a bad influence.

-

previous chapter <- -> next chapter

master list

Potter-Black household

🌟 = Fluff, 🪐 = Angst, ✨ = mild spice, 🎬 = hurt/comfort

{𝚛𝚎𝚚𝚞𝚎𝚜𝚝} → open ! || requests are usually open unless they get too much, then I will turn them off so that I could finish other requests ! ||

After James and Lily’s passing, they entrust their son, Harry, to the care of James’ sister, Y/N, and her husband, Regulus Black, who raise him as their own.

Thunder 🌟 (1)

Uncle Moony and Siri 🌟 (2)

Glasses 🌟 (3)

Mom and Dad 🪐 (4)

Meeting Walburga Black 🎬 (5)

Harry meets Danny 🌟 (6)

The Adventures of Danny and Hazzy 🌟 (7)

Eerie Similarities 🌟 (8)

Danny's turn 🌟 (9)

Harry's post-Hogwarts 🎬 (10)

The End ! 🌟 (11)

Thunder

After James and Lily’s passing, they entrust their son, Harry, to the care of James’ sister, Y/N, and her husband, Regulus Black, who raise him as their own.

[regulus black x fem potter! reader]

warnings: fluff

One stormy night, the wind howled through the trees, rattling the windowpanes as rain splattered against the glass in uneven bursts. The heavy clouds outside swallowed the moonlight, casting the house into near darkness. Inside his small bedroom, four-year-old Harry Potter tossed and turned, his tiny fingers gripping the soft fabric of his blanket.

Then, a particularly loud crack of thunder split the night, shaking the walls with its ferocity. Harry gasped, his heart hammering in his chest. The sound was too much—too loud, too sudden, too scary. His small body tensed, and tears pricked at the corners of his emerald-green eyes. He sat up quickly, the dim glow of the enchanted nightlight barely doing anything to push back the shadows that seemed to loom larger with every flash of lightning.

Without a second thought, he flung aside his blanket and clutched his beloved stuffed stag, a gift from his Uncle Siri, one he never went to bed without. Holding the plush toy tightly against his chest, he scrambled out of bed, his little feet hitting the cool wooden floor. The hallway stretched ahead of him, dark and unfamiliar in the storm’s flickering light, but he didn’t hesitate. He knew the way by heart.

Each step was cautious yet determined as he padded down the corridor, his breath coming in quiet, hurried puffs. The house groaned under the storm’s weight, and another rumble of thunder sent him into a near run. By the time he reached the large wooden door of his baba and mama’s room, his tiny hands were shaking. With effort, he pushed the door open just enough to slip inside, the comforting scent of home immediately wrapping around him like a warm embrace.

Blinking in the darkness, his bright green eyes searched for them, his safe place. The familiar figures of Y/N and Regulus lay curled together beneath the blankets, the rhythmic sound of their breathing a soft lull against the storm’s fury outside. He didn’t hesitate. With a soft sniffle, he scrambled up onto the bed, crawling between them and pressing himself into the warmth of their bodies.

“Mama… Baba…” he whispered sleepily, his voice small and frightened. “The sky is loud.”

Regulus stirred first, groggy but instinctively protective, his arm curling around Harry and pulling him close. “Mmm…” he hummed in acknowledgment, his voice thick with sleep. “It’s alright, Harry”

Y/N shifted as well, barely opening her eyes before instinctively reaching out, her fingers brushing through Harry’s wild, untamed hair. The feel of his small frame trembling slightly made her frown, and she gently pressed a kiss to his forehead. “You’re safe, love,” she murmured, her voice warm and reassuring despite her drowsiness. “The thunder can’t hurt you.”

Regulus, still half-asleep, let out a low hum of agreement, his hand rubbing slow, soothing circles on Harry’s back. “Just the clouds talking to each other,” he murmured.

Harry buried his face against Y/N’s side, his small fingers clutching at the fabric of her nightshirt. “Don’t want the sky to talk anymore…” he mumbled, his words slightly muffled by sleep.

Y/N chuckled softly, exchanging a knowing glance with Regulus over their son’s head. Thunderstorms had never bothered her much, nor did they seem to faze Regulus, but she knew to Harry, that each roar of thunder felt like a monster lurking in the dark.

“Well then,” she whispered, brushing her fingers through his hair in slow, comforting strokes. “We’ll just have to drown it out, won’t we?”

Harry peeked up at her with tired, curious eyes. “How?” he asked softly, still gripping his stuffed stag.

“With a bedtime story, of course,” she said, her voice gentle and sure.

Regulus gave a sleepy chuckle, shifting slightly but not letting go of Harry. “Hmm… make it a good one,” he murmured, already half-asleep again.

Y/N smiled as she began weaving a tale, her voice soft and rhythmic, each word forming a safe, warm cocoon around them. Harry’s little body relaxed further, his breathing evening out as his eyelids drooped heavily. The storm raged on outside, but he felt safe here, nestled between the two people who loved him most.

Within minutes, his quiet, steady breaths told them he was asleep, his tiny fingers still curled around Y/N’s nightshirt, his stuffed stag tucked under his chin.

Regulus let out a contented sigh, tightening his hold on both of them before whispering, “He’s ours, isn’t he?”

Y/N smiled, pressing a soft kiss to Harry’s head. “Always,” she whispered back.

As the storm continued outside, their little family slept peacefully, wrapped in warmth, love, and the quiet promise of safety.

-> next chapter

Pandora hanging out with the Slytherin Skittles:

IG credit to shotbyorion 💥💥💥

I need to vent, guys. Pls dont mind this. TO MY SH*T PARENTS, PLS JS DIVORCE GOSH 😭🙏

Timothée Chalamet on the Spanish steps in Rome✨

IG credit to holycolorfulpig

So good wth😭

Messiah

timmy takes rome🇮🇹

you guyyyyyys, these outfits!!!! i’m dying, he looks so good 🥵

Oooh ooooh! Timmy imagines!! Can you write a super fluffy one about Timmy and y/n spending the night together for the first time!

hello!!! ofc you can, i'm trying to make a name for myself as the fluff connoisseur so this is right up my alley! i hope you like it

“ahhh can i please get you something to drink? a soda? coffee? water?”

timothée’s standing in the middle of his kitchen, looking incredibly lost for somebody who had moved into the apartment two years ago.

it’s endearing, damn it, everything he does is endearing, and you wish he would just cut it out. just stop being so cute all the damn time.

“i promise i’m fine,” you say for what must have been the twelfth time that evening.

you’re cosy amongst the blankets on his couch and look a hell of a lot more at home than he does. yet he’s making you nervous with all his pacing.

he just can’t sit still.

“are you absolutely sure? it’s no pr—”

“timmy i swear to god, if you say it’s no problem one more time i’ll give you a problem.”

“i’m sorry!” he laughs, yanks the hood of his hoodie up, spins on the spot so you can’t see his face. you die on the couch at the sight, and kind of just want to climb all over him — is that weird? that’s really weird.

it’s the first time you’re staying at his place and every little thing he does is so him and so domestic it makes butterflies erupt.

you escape the flurry of blankets he threw on top of you and shuffle over to him. one hand gingerly places itself on his shoulder, the other on his lower back, turning him to face you.

he’s pulling his lip between his teeth, green eyes meeting yours then looking at his feet.

“you’ve made us dinner—” you start.

“well i ordered us dinner, that’s no effort—”

“you’ve tidied your place—”

“it was fucking awful before you came—”

“you’ve given me all the blankets, you’ve even bought that candle i told you i liked months ago.”

he laughs nervously, somehow playing footsie standing up. “i just want you to feel at home — and the least i could do is get you a fucking drink.”

is he seriously still worried he’s not enough?

“i’m fine,” you laugh, “how many times do i need to say it? would a different language help? what is it in french?”

he giggles, hands moving to hide his face.

pulling him closer by the waist, you continue, “the only thing i’m missing…”

he turns ashen.

“...is you.”

“what do you mean?” his face, total confusion, makes you smile.

“you’ve been running around all night making everything perfect when all i really need is you. you literally have not stopped moving since i came over.”

he scrunches his face, raising his eyebrows apologetically as a preempt to an unnecessary apology.

“don’t,” you cut him off before he can even try. “there’s nothing to apologise for. now please come cuddle me?”

he grins, all bashful and gorgeous. you pull him towards his couch and flop down onto it. he falls onto you, sandwiching you between his body and the back of it, then gathers the blankets around you both.

“finally,” you sigh contently, immediately snuggling into his chest.

he laughs. it’s a quiet rumble against your ear that thrums through your body, all the way to your toes.

timothée’s hands, always so expressive, slip slowly under your sweater and rest against your skin.

“this okay?” he murmurs, thumbs stroking patterns over your waist.

you nod, hooking a leg over his to tether him to you, never too close, never enough. his heartbeat picks up at this and you grin, your own quickening as he runs his hands to your back, tucking you impossibly closer.

“i can’t believe we could have been doing this hours ago,” he hums.

“instead you were rearranging the table for the millionth time. and we ate the takeout over here instead.” you giggle, running a hand through his hair.

he almost purrs at your touch, hugging you tighter, melting into you.

“that reminds me, we still have dessert in the fridge if you want—”

“nuh uh, no moving,” you cut him off. “been denied cuddles for far too long.”

he laughs, rolling over and taking you with him. “gah, can’t reach fridge! must get ice cream!”

“movie instead?” you compromise, wrapping your legs around him not unlike a koala. he nuzzles your neck, making you laugh, and tucks his nose there.

you reach for the remote and flick to the dark knight. you can feel his smile against your skin and run your hands over his back as he leaves kisses along your neck.

“god, how are you real?” he says, green eyes blindingly sincere as they meet yours. you squirm under his gaze, burying your head back in his chest as the movie starts.

several hours and a trilogy later, your arm is numb and timothée’s dead weight is trapping you against the couch.

your attempt to stretch ends up elbowing him in the face and he groans awake, one hand holding his nose.

“oh god, baby i’m so sorry,” you rush out, your hand caressing his cheek as he blinks sleepily.

“if this is how you wake me up each morning i don’t want it,” he mumbles, playfully nuzzling his nose back against your neck.

you snicker, resting your hand in his hair, undeniable warmth spreading through you at his half asleep musings. you can picture it too, lazy mornings together, coaxing him awake with promises of bagels and kisses, even just kisses, two bodies nestled together under soft sheets, messy hair, warm skin.

you check the time on your phone, shocked to find it’s 02:47am.

“tim,” you murmur, hand tousling his hair. there’s no reply and his breathing is rhythmic and slow.

“timmy,” you try again, other hand sweeping under his hoodie, up his back. “baby, wake up.”

he shakes his head and damn it if it’s not the cutest thing you’ve ever seen.

“come on, we can’t sleep on your couch,” you whisper, fingers zigzagging over his skin.

“yeah we can, is comfy,” he yawns, raspy voice making you want to dive into him.

“baby, there’s more room in bed,” you point out. “more room for cuddles?”

he groans, stretching out to his fullest and almost tumbling off the couch. you stand up, amused as he curls back into the couch only to find nobody to cuddle.

“yn?” he asks, rubbing his eyes to find you standing in front of him. “that was cruel.”

he pouts and you roll your eyes, holding your hand out to drag him up. “come on, sleepyhead.”

he grumbles as he leads you to his bedroom, flicking off the lights as he goes. when he turns to face you, nerves erupt in your stomach. it makes no sense, really, you were fine on the couch, sharing his space, limbs intertwined, breathing his scent.

but now his scent is overwhelming. it swirls in the air as he pulls the bed sheets back. it’s woven into the very sheets themselves. it’s everywhere, and so much more intimate, and suddenly your breathing shallows and you stand awkwardly against his doorframe.

“baby?” timothée turns when you don’t follow, sitting down on the edge of his bed.

“sorry, sorry, it’s stupid,” you say, covering your cheeks with your hands.

he shakes his head, reaching out for you. you stand between his legs.

“it’s not,” he says.

“i just… suddenly feel nervous?” you bite your lip. somehow his sleepy eyes soften further at your admission and you move to sit beside him.

“it’s just a bed, it’s just sleep,” he says, headbutting your shoulder.

“i know but there’s all this pressure to be intimate—”

“my only job is to make you happy and comfortable,” timothée says so earnestly, so safely, you can’t believe how worked up you were.

the tension leaves your body and you’re left as tired as he looks. you run a finger over the smudges beneath his eyes, leaning closer to kiss him.

“thank you,” you whisper against his lips.

he kisses you again, soft and warm, and when you pull away the nerves have transformed back into butterflies.

“okay, we need sleep,” you say, watching his eyes flutter.

he hums, pulling you backwards to lie down beside him. “this okay?”

you nod, cuddling closer. his heartbeat picks up again when you trace your fingers over his chest. there’s a few minutes of shifting around and getting comfy, and it’s as timothée turns onto his side for the fifth time that he declares:

“fuck, now i can’t sleep.”

“you’re kidding. i had to practically drag you off the couch.”

“yeah but now i’m overtired.”

“are you a toddler?” you tease.

timothée huffs, rolling over to face the wall. you smirk a few moments later when his hands find their way back to your skin like a magnet.

“do you ever think about space?”

“you’ve got to be kidding me,” you groan, hiding your face in one of his pillows.

“no but hear me out, it’s so vast, and we’re so tiny, but that doesn’t mean we’re insignificant. and aliens, why do we never see them? maybe they’re really shy, or disgusted by us, or have huge superiority complexes.”

“please please shut up,” you nose at his neck, kissing just behind his ear sweetly.

“okay, but last thing. what if we’re the aliens?”

“timothée…” you whine, turning over as he spoons you.

“and that’s why we feel so alone? imagine if space had cliques, and earth is like the outcasts. because no other planet seems to have self destructive qualities.”

you make a noise, too tired for words now, as he rambles on about jupiter’s moons and civilization and whatever else goes on in that million miles an hour mind.

somewhere around the ten minute mark you tune out, blissfully close to sleep. he notices your muscles relax against him, and can’t help himself when he teases, just one more time:

“baby, are you sure i can’t get you something to drink?”

“i’m going to murder you.”

he grins as he holds you closer, one hand gently carding through your hair to send you to sleep.

✮⋆˙𝐏𝐚𝐮𝐥'𝐬 𝐉𝐨𝐲 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤

╰┈➤ 𝐢𝐧 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞, Paul Atreides and you were overjoyed to learn you were pregnant with a boy, the child he had long hoped for, but beneath his joy lay a quiet tension as his prescience hinted at an uncertain future. Over time, Paul’s resolve to remain detached crumbled, and he grew deeply attached to the unborn child, imagining the life he would have with his son. However, the fragile happiness was shattered when you suffered a devastating miscarriage, leaving Paul helpless in the face of his greatest fear—a tragedy he had foreseen but could not prevent.

⊹₊⟡⋆ 𝚆𝚘𝚛𝚍𝚜: 𝟽𝟿𝟸୭ ˚. ᵎᵎ

⊹₊⟡⋆ 𝚃𝚑𝚎𝚖𝚎: 𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚜𝚝 ୭ ˚. ᵎᵎ

⊹₊⟡⋆𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐: 𝚖𝚒𝚜𝚌𝚊𝚛𝚛𝚒𝚊𝚐𝚎୭ ˚. ᵎᵎ

⊹₊⟡⋆𝙿𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝚝𝚠𝚘 𝚝𝚘 𝙿𝚊𝚞𝚕'𝚜 𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚍𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚖 .ᐟ ୭ ˚. ᵎᵎ

· · ─ ·𖥸· ─ · ·

Then, it happened. You were pregnant with Paul Atreides’ baby—a boy, just like he had hoped for. The realization hit you as you sat on the toilet cover, staring at the pregnancy test in your trembling hand. After months of trying, you had finally missed your period. Anxiety surged through you as you scrambled to confirm the result, grabbing five different pregnancy tests from the cabinet. One by one, each test displayed the same answer: positive. A wave of emotions washed over you—joy, disbelief, and a deep, gnawing nervousness.

“You’re pregnant,” came Paul’s calm voice as he entered the bathroom. His tone was steady, his presence commanding yet strangely tender. Of course, he already knew. With his prescience, he had likely sensed the new life growing within you before you even suspected it. But something about his demeanor gave you pause, a subtle tension behind his warm smile, as if he were grappling with knowledge you didn’t yet possess.

Paul said nothing more as he knelt before you, his piercing blue eyes searching yours. He reached out, his hands steady and sure, as though anchoring himself in the moment. “I can’t believe it… a boy, just like I wanted,” he murmured, his voice soft yet filled with awe. A genuine smile broke across his face, his usual intensity momentarily softened by the overwhelming joy of impending fatherhood.

He rose gracefully, his movements fluid and purposeful, and extended a hand to you. You hesitated, still caught in the whirlwind of your thoughts, but his touch was firm and reassuring as he gently guided you to your feet. “Come,” he said, his voice a quiet command laced with tenderness. Hand in hand, he led you out of the bathroom, into a future that felt both exhilarating and terrifying—a future that had already begun to take shape in ways neither of you could fully understand.

The two of you were overjoyed when you found out about the baby. For weeks, it was as though a light had been reignited in your lives. Paul’s usually guarded demeanor softened around you, and even though he had sworn to himself that he wouldn’t allow his heart to fully attach to the child—knowing the risks of the future—he couldn’t help but fail. As the days turned into weeks, his resolve crumbled. He began to speak to your growing belly, his voice tender and filled with cautious hope, imagining the life of the son you both longed for. Despite his efforts to guard himself, Paul’s love for the unborn child became undeniable.

But the fragile joy was shattered all too soon. Paul was in the middle of a strategic meeting with his advisors when the sound of your blood-curdling scream pierced the air. The sound stopped him mid-sentence, freezing the entire room. His heart dropped like a stone as he turned toward the door, his prescience offering him fragments of what was to come—too scattered to act upon, yet clear enough to fill him with dread.

Without a word, Paul pushed past his advisors and strode down the hallway, his movements purposeful but laced with growing panic. As he approached your shared bedroom, the scene before him confirmed his worst fears. Doctors and nurses were rushing in and out, their faces taut with urgency. The air was thick with tension, the muffled sounds of hurried instructions and medical equipment creating a chaotic backdrop to the dread pooling in Paul’s chest.

He shoved his way through the crowd, his pulse pounding in his ears. The moment he stepped into the room, time seemed to slow. You were on the floor, your body curled in agony. Blood was pooling around you, staining the once-pristine rug a deep, sickening red. The sight stole the breath from his lungs.

Paul’s prescience had already told him what had happened—perhaps he had known even before it began. Still, the reality of it struck him with brutal force. You had lost the baby. His son. And there was nothing he could do to stop it.

“Move,” Paul barked at the nearest doctor, his voice sharp and commanding despite the despair threatening to consume him. He dropped to his knees beside you, his hands trembling as he reached out but stopped short, afraid to touch you and cause further harm. “I’m here,” he murmured, his voice breaking. “I’m here.”

Your tear-streaked face turned toward him, your eyes wide with pain and terror. “Paul…” you choked out, your voice barely audible.

“I know,” he said softly, his prescient vision flooding him with all the outcomes he could neither change nor escape. His hand found yours, gripping it tightly as the chaos continued to swirl around you both. Despite his immense power, in this moment, Paul Atreides felt utterly powerless.

So handsome🌻🌻🌻🌻

Credit to Vanity Fair

𝐋𝐢𝐟𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐑𝐞𝐠𝐮𝐥𝐮𝐬 𝐁𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐤: 𝐌𝐢𝐝𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐩𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐚

╰┈➤𝙰𝚏𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚖𝚘𝚟𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚘𝚐𝚎𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛, 𝚈/𝙽 𝙰𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢’𝚜 𝚜𝚎𝚌𝚛𝚎𝚝 𝚖𝚒𝚍𝚗𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚜𝚗𝚊𝚌𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚑𝚊𝚋𝚒𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚍𝚒𝚜𝚌𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚍 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚒𝚌𝚛𝚘𝚠𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚋𝚎𝚎𝚙𝚎𝚍, 𝚠𝚊𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚁𝚎𝚐𝚞𝚕𝚞𝚜 𝙱𝚕𝚊𝚌𝚔. 𝙲𝚘𝚗𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚔𝚒𝚝𝚌𝚑𝚎𝚗, 𝚁𝚎𝚐𝚞𝚕𝚞𝚜 𝚝𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚎𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚓𝚘𝚒𝚗𝚎𝚍 𝚒𝚗 𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚕𝚊𝚝𝚎-𝚗𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚙𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚊 𝚏𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚝, 𝚍𝚎𝚌𝚕𝚊𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚜𝚗𝚊𝚌𝚔𝚜 𝚋𝚎𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚙𝚊𝚗𝚢. 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚗𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚍 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚕𝚊𝚞𝚐𝚑𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚕𝚎𝚗 𝚕𝚎𝚏𝚝𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚜, 𝚖𝚊𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚏𝚕𝚊𝚝 𝚏𝚎𝚎𝚕 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚗 𝚌𝚘𝚣𝚒𝚎𝚛.

warnings: fluff

[Regulus Black x Fem Avery! reader]

-

As usual, you quietly slipped out of your shared bed, careful not to disturb Regulus, who was a notoriously light sleeper. The hardest part was always getting in and out of bed without making a sound. You tiptoed your way to the kitchen, opened the fridge, and smiled at the sight of the leftover pasta Regulus had made earlier. He was an excellent cook, and his pasta was one of your favorites.

After piling some onto a plate, you popped it into the microwave. You were a pro at midnight snacking, always stopping the microwave just before the loud beep betrayed your secret. Except tonight, something went wrong.

The beep sounded, sharp and intrusive, slicing through the stillness of the night like a wand's hex. You froze, eyes wide, hoping against hope that Regulus hadn’t heard it. But before you could even take a breath, you heard the soft shuffle of footsteps approaching the kitchen.

Regulus appeared in the doorway, his hair mussed and a sleepy frown on his face. “Care to explain why my microwave is having a conversation with the entire flat at—” he glanced at the clock on the wall, “—three in the morning?”

Caught in the act, you froze with your hand still on the plate, a sheepish smile creeping onto your face. "I was hungry," you murmured, your tone equal parts innocent and apologetic, though you knew that wouldn’t fully appease him.

Regulus stood in the doorway, arms crossed and eyes half-lidded with sleep, though his expression carried more curiosity than anger. His tousled hair framed his face, and the way he leaned against the doorframe made it clear he wasn’t about to let this go. "Hungry? At three in the morning?" he asked, arching an eyebrow. "You couldn’t wait a few more hours until breakfast?"

You shifted awkwardly, twirling the fork in your hand. "Well... waiting didn’t seem like the best option," you admitted, avoiding his gaze. "And... this isn’t exactly new."

His eyebrow climbed higher. "Not new?"

With a resigned sigh, you gestured vaguely toward the fridge. "I’ve been doing this since we moved in. I just—well, I’m usually better at not getting caught. Tonight was... a fluke."

Regulus blinked at you, his expression unreadable for a long moment. Then, to your surprise, a slow smirk curved his lips. "So, let me get this straight," he said, his voice tinged with amusement. "You’ve been sneaking into the kitchen, raiding the leftovers, and using my microwave for your late-night escapades—all without me noticing—until tonight?"

You nodded, shoving a forkful of pasta into your mouth to buy yourself time. Maybe if you didn’t say anything else, he’d let it go.

Instead, Regulus sighed, the sound somewhere between exasperation and reluctant amusement. "You know, most people would just have a proper dinner instead of sneaking around like a thief in their own home."

"I did have dinner!" you protested, swallowing quickly. "I just—didn’t have enough. And your cooking is too good to resist."

He gave you a skeptical look but didn’t argue. Instead, he pushed off the doorframe, walked over to the counter, and grabbed a second fork from the drawer. "Well, you’ve ruined my sleep now," he said, sitting down across from you and helping himself to the pasta on your plate.

You stared at him, baffled. "Wait, you’re not mad?"

"Mad?" He gave you a look that was almost offended by the suggestion. "No. A little annoyed that you didn’t think to wake me up for midnight snacks sooner, maybe. But mad? Not really."

You blinked. "Why would I wake you up? You’d complain."

"Of course I’d complain," he said, his smirk growing. "But I’d still come. Midnight snacks are always better with company."

You laughed, the tension easing as you watched him steal another bite of your pasta. "You’re ridiculous, you know that?"

"And you’re lucky I’m such a tolerant flatmate," he shot back, raising an eyebrow at you. "Otherwise, I might have hexed the microwave by now."

You rolled your eyes, grinning. "Fine. Next time, I’ll wake you. But only if you promise not to steal all the food."

"No promises," Regulus said, twirling another forkful of pasta. "But you’re welcome to try."

As the two of you shared the stolen leftovers, the quiet of the flat felt warmer, cozier. Maybe midnight snacks were better with company after all. Or maybe, you thought with a smirk, it was just the challenge of not getting caught that made it so fun.

Guys I just fell into a rabbit hole of Timothée Chalamet fanfics early in the morning !

✮⋆˙ 𝐀 𝐂𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐲-𝐂𝐨𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐁𝐨𝐨𝐩

╰┈➤ 𝐈𝐧 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞, Willy Wonka, ever playful, boops his wife Y/N’s nose while teasing her about her serious focus on the factory’s caramel. Their lighthearted exchange is filled with affection, reminding them both that even in a world of chaos, love and laughter are the sweetest creations.

⊹₊⟡⋆ 𝚆𝚘𝚛𝚍𝚜: 675୭ ˚. ᵎᵎ

⊹₊⟡ ⋆ 𝚃𝚑𝚎𝚖𝚎: 𝙵𝚕𝚞𝚏𝚏 ୭ ˚. ᵎᵎ

✦•┈๑⋅⋯ ⋯⋅๑┈·✦

The sweet aroma of chocolate and caramel filled the air, mingling with the hum of machinery and the faint, whimsical tunes of the Oompa Loompas as they worked in the background. Willy Wonka, with his vibrant purple coat and signature top hat tilted slightly askew, was striding through the factory, his cane tapping rhythmically on the floor. But today, his usual focus on his candy empire was entirely derailed by one thing—or rather, one person.

His wife, Y/N, was seated near the caramel mixing station, completely unaware of the mischief brewing in Willy’s mind. She was absorbed in watching the caramel’s glossy swirl, the soft glow of the factory lights reflecting off its surface. She loved moments like these—moments where she could quietly enjoy the magic of Willy’s world without interruption.

Willy, however, had other plans. He stopped a few feet away from her, his blue eyes sparkling with playful energy as he tilted his head, observing her. She looked beautiful, as she always did, but there was something about her calm focus that made him want to disturb her peace in the most endearing way possible.

Clearing his throat dramatically, Willy stepped closer, the heels of his shoes clicking softly against the tiled floor. Y/N looked up at him, her lips curving into a warm smile.

“What’s that look for?” she asked, raising an eyebrow at the mischievous grin plastered on his face.

Willy didn’t answer right away. Instead, he leaned on his cane, peering at her as though he were studying one of his latest candy inventions. “You’ve got something,” he said finally, his tone light and teasing.

Her brows furrowed in confusion. “Something? Where?”

He pointed vaguely at her face, his finger hovering in the air. “Right there. On your nose.”

Instinctively, Y/N’s hand flew up to her face, brushing at her nose. “Did I get it?”

Willy’s grin widened, his eyes dancing with mischief. “Nope, still there. Hold still!”

Before she could react, he leaned in, his finger darting out to gently boop the tip of her nose. His touch was soft but precise, and the moment lingered in the air as Y/N blinked in surprise.

“Boop!” he exclaimed, his voice lilting with pure delight.

“Willy!” she cried, her laughter bubbling up as she swatted his hand away. “What was that for?”

“For fun,” he replied with a dramatic flourish, spinning his cane in a circle before resting it on his shoulder. “A nose as cute as yours deserves a boop every now and then.”

Y/N rolled her eyes, but she couldn’t help the smile spreading across her face. “You’re insufferable, you know that?”

“Insufferably in love with you,” he quipped, leaning closer so their faces were mere inches apart. His grin softened into something warmer as he added, “I couldn’t resist. You looked too serious staring at all that caramel.”

“Well, someone has to keep an eye on things while you’re busy being a menace,” she teased, poking his chest lightly.

“Oh, I’ll take that as a compliment,” Willy said, straightening up with exaggerated pride. “After all, isn’t a little mischief the secret ingredient to happiness?”

Before Y/N could reply, Willy leaned down and pressed a tender kiss to her forehead. “You brighten this place more than any candy ever could,” he said softly, his voice losing its playful edge for just a moment.

Y/N’s cheeks warmed at his words, and she reached out to gently tug on his lapel. “You’re lucky you’re charming, Mr. Wonka. Otherwise, I might have thrown caramel at you for that boop.”

“Ah, but what a sweet revenge that would be,” he replied, his grin returning full force.

Laughing, Y/N shook her head, letting him pull her to her feet. Together, they walked hand in hand through the vibrant chaos of the factory, the scent of chocolate and sugar swirling around them. Willy’s finger occasionally darted out toward her nose, threatening another boop, and each time she batted him away, her laughter echoing through the candy-coated wonderland.

My biggest strength is my biggest curse.

Imagination.

For the rest of my life it will plague me.

Writing stories of passion and romance that will never be real.

Never can be real.

I spin tales of love and in doing so I doom myself for thinking I could ever be the lucky character in my own story.

How could anyone not love this silly little guy?