your works are seriously some of the best ive read over the years ive been reading fics. im currently surviving off of your works atm đđ»đđ»đđ»đđ»
(p.s im glad youre feeling better and you survived your moveđ€đ€đ€)
AHHHH im so honoured
thank u sm for taking the time to read my works i appreciate it soo much more than i can say ă ă <3333333
Heading to work and you just gave me a reason to do it with a bit more joy - knowing evil twin is waiting for me when i'm back. (Of course it already got its like)
So happy you're doing okay and that you're back đ
thank you smmmmmmmm
im so glad youre enjoying it!! im acc so happy to be back writing again and will be doing part 5 of evil twin this month mwahhhhh <3333
oH GOD IHOPE IM NOT CLUTTERING YOUR INBOX FOR THESE BUT HEAR ME OUT...
regulus and reader both bickering in their native (?) language like reggie with french and reader with danish or italian language and both of em partially understands one another but not enough to fully comprehend the meaning and one of them starts using it against one another- I WILL ADMIT,,,, READER WILL START THIS NOTION.... we can't all be perfect đ but also in my head I lowk HC regulus can't initiate it bc he fears itll be over the moment he does and he fears he won't be able to fix things the way it was.....
I love angst when its caused by things that can be easily be fixed through communication bc the comfort after all of that is PEAKKKKKKKK đ€€
halo bbyyyyyyy
ages later i have fufilled my duty!!! im sorry it soo late but i hope you like ittttt, it still subpar imo but enjoy x
cw âą established relationship, miscommunication trope, slytherin!reader, lil bit sensitive!reg and reader, mild angst, touched starved!reg, hurt/comfort
summary: regulus would never be mean to you, especially on purpose, but a small miscommunicationâa single word lost in translation makes the world of a difference.
a/n: not proofread! also i dont speak a word of french,,,and i couldnt think of a target language so use ur imagination pls x
It was a simple misunderstanding.
And although Regulus is a man of few words, most of them are accompanied with a bit of bite. Ever-so-slightly harsh in a way that wards of anyone who would take them as mean-spirited, or brand him as someone to avoid.
He doesnât mind this.
Regulus is very aware that he could easily change this, change how people perceive him and make his overall disposition far more pleasant if he wanted to. But he wonât, already deemed it far too much effort for people who quite frankly donât deserve it.
Though, there are a select few who got a sort of âspecial treatmentâ from Regulus. He extended this to people like Barty, Evan, Dorcas, Pandoraâhis friendsâand, because he wasnât cruel by any means, to other just naturally kind souls; people who brought the best out of him even if he didnât want them to.
People like Professor Mcgonagall, Lily Evansâyou.
Its not like his personality did a entire 180 when he was around you, not at allâits more that, breathing felt easier, he never had to think too hard when you were around, like you were in sync. It was just so easy to be himself if you were there.
Never once did you shame him for being too gloomy, or too sarcastic or snarky, you just giggled behind your hand and breathe into his ears something just as sardonic. Entertained his playful banter and matched his wit word for word like it was second nature.
It was a little routine youâd built, la little secret for just the two of you. At first it was just in English, a game of sly mumbles and whispered words, teasing traded over textbooks and tea in the common room. Until your own little habits just sort of slipped into it, late one evening when you muttered under your breath at the sound of Barty barrelling through the common room. Regulus beside you, one of your legs draped over hisâheâd heard you say something, and for a moment he thought heâd misheard.
As much as he wracked his brain, over and over repeating the phrase you had said, for the life of him, he couldnât figure out why he knew what you meantâhow he understood your words without knowing them.
Turning to you with a tilted head, before he leaned over and whispered to you in French, eyes darting between you and Barty. Your lips split into a grin as the dots connected and it was a slippery slope from thereâyou didnât understand every word he threw at you, but you caught enoughâthe tone, the rhythm, the smirk behind the syllables.
It wasnât about exact comprehension, really. It was about cadence. Intention.
It was almost comforting, this back-and-forth; your own little world made up of half-understood words, endearing mockery and jest.
You started using it to your advantageâwhispering phrases you knew sounded sweet but carried just enough mischief to make him squint at you suspiciously. Bickering back and forth, his brows would sometimes furrow when you spoke, but heâd recover quickly, responding as though he understood everything perfectly with just the right amount of bite.
Regulus would roll his eyes, feigning boredom when you would spew sentence after sentence, tongue tripping over itself in a stream of half-comprehendible words, but his lips always twitched like he was fighting a smile. You taunted him endlessly and he wound you up again and againâall harmless fun and games until well, it wasnât.
The common room was nearly emptyâdimly lit by the glim of candles, the soft hiss of the fire and faint crackle of the logs filling the room. One of the long days were the night took too long to come. Both you and Regulus had been occupied with assignments all morning and had hardly seen each other, lunch and dinner had passed by the time you were finally able to haul yourself away from your study group.
There was a faint smell of parchment that lingered in the room with just a hint of smoke, and Regulus sat quietly in the corner, tea still steaming, quill lying long forgotten on the table and a book open on his lap.
You moved on impulse, silent and fluidly drifting through the room and to the corner where your boyfriend sat. Plopping yourself practically on top of him with little grace, legs thrown over his as you curled into his side.
Regulus didnât mind. He never said as much, and he didnât pull away either.
So naturally, you mindlessly continued your little habit.
Leaving virtually no space between you whenever youâd gravitate towards himâit was second nature at this point. There was just something about how he held you, his affection was exactly grandious in any way; it shon in quieter moments like this. In the nonsense patterns the tips of his fingers make against your skin, or instead of a verbal greeting, Regulus would shift his body when heâd hear you coming, making room for you to slot yourself beside him like a lock and key. How when you settled heâd almost breathe out a sigh of relief as if there was a terrible weight on his shoulder and youâd come to ease itâlike his bones were rejoicing at your presence,
It felt wrong to sit any other way.
To deny either of you the comfort of the other.
To act like this wasnât a million times better than sitting without your limbs tangled together, almost inconviently so.
At least thatâs how you saw it.
You could feel his heartbeat where your temple rested against his shoulder; calm and steadyâit was almost hypnotic. The quiet metronome of his pulse making your eyes feel just that bit heavier. He must have noticed the way your lids sagged, or how every muscle in your body had given out and now rested comfortably on his side.
Then, under his breath, âquelle sangsueâŠ(what a leechâŠ)â
It wasnât cruel.
Not really.
Well, not in his mind at least, it was teasingâa fond sort of complaint, the kind of thing thatâs said with a cheeky smile, the kind of thing that would earn him a light swat had you been awake enough.
And if heâd let his linger on your skin for just a moment more, maybe you would have been able to feel the way they stretched upwards into the smallest of smiles. It was that downturned one that you loved, that was for him more than anythingâhe even fought the urge to press his lips to you again, in fear of stirring you, like heâd already been too indulgent with that one timid peck.
Though, he had stirred you, because you heard him. The words hung there, foreign and sharp-edged and they made your stomach lurch at the implicationâyou knew what that meant, or at least you thought you did.
Suddenly, your eyes were no longer heavy, and sleep was not so tempting. Still you didnât move, kept your eyes closed and stayed curled up all but on top of your boyfriend, acutely aware of each and every point of contact your bodies were making.
Come to think of it, as you feigned sleep, you found yourself struggling to recall a single time when you werenât completely invading his spaceâwhen your body wasnât irritatingly close to his, a moment when your presence wasnât entirely inescapable. How overbearing you must be.
Gods, maybe you were always stuck to him.
Regulus has always been someone who enjoyed his solitude, liked to be alone with his thoughts and here you were taking that away from him.
You just assumed you were exempt, that he didnât mind you being constantly glued to his side. And not once did he complain, probably for your sakeâhow could you have been so inconsiderate?
The words replayed over and over until you couldnât bring yourself to continue laying on him. So you shifted, slow and careful, as if your bones were still heavy with sleep. Regulus barely stirred, too lost in whatever quiet thought had softened his face earlier, and you used that mercy to your advantage. Pushing yourself upright just a little, enough to murmur in a voice still thick with faux-sleep,
âIâmâumâŠIâm gonna go to bed.â
You could still feel the warmth of his arm at your side, how his thumb ran over the fabric of your shirt. Regulus was barely able to get a word out before youâd stood up, it was all so suddenâthere was no time to ask you to stay a little longer, no kiss goodnight, no lazy drape of your hand across his shoulders. Just a rushed, whispered âgoodnightâ and the ghost of a smile he couldnât quite make out in the dark. You slipped away quick and silent, padding up the stairs to your dorm and slipping under your own blankets as you struggled to swallow the tightness that was building in your throat.
The next morning was just as busy as the last few had been, but when you finally had a momentâthe whiplash cruel. He greeted you with that soft peck and a âgood morningâ and a slight furrow between his brows when you didnât lean into him the way you always did. You did smiled back, warm as ever, and that only seemed to confuse him more.
Though, you kept your hands to yourself, as much as they itched and searched for his, kept your shoulder from brushing his, kept your body angled just enough away. It was subtle, agonisinglys so, an you though maybe he might not notice, and if he did, you hoped heâd be glad.
It was a slow withdrawal for the days to come. Like you were breaking a bad habit, weaning yourself off of himâyou convinced yourself that this was necessary, because you loved him too much to suffocate him. The contrast was so stark. Cold yet warm, near by farâbecause you were still you just out of reachâstill teased him in that half-formed jumble of languages, still whispered smart little quips that earned you the usual narrow-eyed smirk.
You still giggled at his sharp jokes, treated him the way you always hadâŠjust without the part where your bodies were tangled, where you rested your chin on his shoulder, where your fingers found his without thinking.
At first, he asked if you were coming down with something. It was the only possible reason in his mind for this odd behaviour you were displaying; why else would you be avoiding his touch like the plague?
But you laughed him off, shook your head and smiled, told him you were fine. Which wasnât entirely a lie, but it still didnât completely fool. He pressed, gently but worriedly, asking if something had upset you, you looked so genuinely baffled that he swallowed the rest of the question before it reached his tongue.
So, instead he watchedâhe was good at that.
Regulus knew he wasnât crazy, he could see how your smile fell flat the second you thought he wasnât looking or how you stared at the seat beside him for a second too long before choosing another. Saw that your hand twitched like it wanted to reach out but didnât, it started to bleed into him.
The distance.
He was snappish, irritable, made him withdraw into himself like heâd been left out in the cold. Barty made a comment about him being moody and Regulus nearly hexed him. He didnât know what heâd done wrong, couldnât fathom why you suddenly treated the space between you like it was necessary, like being close would burn you.
Almost week went byâone of the longest, most miserable weeks Regulus had experienced in a long time. But he respected itâyour strange newfound aversion to leaning against him, your insistence on walking side-by-side instead of arm-in-arm. He respected it not just because he loved you, because if you needed this space, he would never take that away.
But when the sun set and he found his bed that bit colder and the blanket suddenly far too much for one, heâd stayed awake staring at the ceiling, replaying every moment of the last month, searching for what could have caused this.
Regulus was smartâtop of all his classes, skipped almost two full academic years, and yet for the life of him, he couldnât figure this out. He kept coming up empty-handed every time, and it was really starting to get to him. And the spiral began, every sign pointed to the one thing he dreaded.
You were going to leave him.
This was your way of preparing yourself, preparing him.
He was unravelling by the end of the week.
And Gods did he just want to be selfish, to move across the room everytime you avoided him, to indulge himself in the one slither of solace heâd grown spoilt withâdesperate for, lonely without.
Finally, when he couldnât physically stand it anymoreâwhen the ache in his chest had worn him down to the last sleepless night he could bearâhe pulled you aside during a free period. Into his empty dorm room that you hadnât seen in over a week. His hand closed around your wrist before he could think better of it, then dropped it just as quickly like heâd committed some unforgivable act.
When you caught a glimpse of his face, it was almost foreign.
His eyes were wide and frantic in a way youâd only seen a handful of times, and as much as he tried to steady his hand in tight fists by his side, youâd felt the way they trembled slightly as they let you go.
âIs something wrong?â he asked first, and when you opened your mouth he pushed forward like he was afraid heâd never have the voice to speak again and the words were getting out quickly enough.
âDid I upset you? Did Iâdid I do something? Do youââ His words got caught, stuck on his tongue like it physically hurt to get them out, and his throat bobbed. âDo you hate me?â
Immediately your face crumbled, brows knitting together as you rushed out words, âWhat? No. Reggieâno, never! Whatâs going on?â You grabbed his arm on instinctâwarm and gentle, just like how he remembered; and the effect it had on him was instantaneous.
His breath hitched just slightly before he pressed his lips into a thin line as if to steady himself, but the tension in his shoulders visibly released. Even if he could bring himself to meet your eyes, his own flickered helplessly to where you held him.
âThen why do you treat me with such contempt? Why wonât you come near me? Did I do something to make you want to leave?â
Leave.
You blinked at him, actually stunnedâlips parted to speak but words seemed to fail you, because neverânot onceâhad the thought even crossed your mind. All you could do was shake your head, adamant, because how could he think that? He couldnât possibly believe youâd ever leave him?
You grabbed his arms then, both of them, sliding your hands down slow and deliberate, like they were memorising the surface of his skin until they met his. And his fingers curled around yours like heâd been starving for the contact.
Emptying your lungs in one sharp exhale, you squeezed his hand firmly as you spoke, guilt burning at the base of your stomach.
âNo. No, IâI never meant to make you feel that way. Iâm not going anywhere. I was only doing it for you. I thought it was what you wanted.â
âWhat I wanted?â His voice pitched so sharply it almost echoed. âWhy on earth would I want this? Why would I want you far?â
He relinquished his hold on your hand and ran a hand through his hair, pulling harshly at the roots as his lips spilled words faster than he could filter them. âIâve spent the whole week thinking about thisâabout you, about the way you lean on meâwhat made you think I wanted any of this?â
Your cheeks burned, shame, hurt, frustration all mangled together, and then you were snapping, mouth twisting and voice sharper than youâd planned, on the defence.
âCan you blame me? Itâs because of what you said, Regulus. I heard you that night.â
His name on your lips wasnât soft anymore, it was brittle, trembling and cracking at the end. Regulus could see the sheen building on your eyes, how you breath skipped at you watched him in silence, waitingâwhile he wracked his brain yet again for what you could be talking about. His own brows knitted together high on his forehead and a wash of confusion painted his face, but he only shook his head as he spoke,
âWhat? What are you talking about?â
Your blood only festered warmer, frustration prickling up your spine as you took a step away from him, fists clenched at your sides. But he didnât let you go far, hands reaching out to take yours again.
âMaybe you thought I was asleep butââ you swallowed before the words tumbled out,ââbut you called me a parasite, Regulus. What else was I suppossed to think?!â
His mouth opened, then closed his brows pulling impossibly tighter, âIâno. **Never. I would never call you that.â
There was no attempt to conceal the scoff that left your lips, followed by another step backâbut he didnât let go.
âBut you did.â
You were serious, he could tell, could hear it in your voice; the flat tone it took, just how adamant you were, that you were one hundred percent sure that heâd called you such a mean and nasty thing. âAnd you were rightâI didnât realise how overbearing I was being and Iâm trying to fix it!â
Regulus was still holding you, hand wrapped firmly around your wrist, his gaze weighty on your face and silence even heavier, but you couldnât bring yourself to meet his eyes. Not when you were trying to calm your pulse, trying to ignore the feeling of his skin on yours, not when you knew youâd be met with **those **eyesâsoft and desperate and pleading.
It was already in motion, the tell-tale signs were there. That clogged, suffocating feeling in your sinuses, the tightness at the back of your throat and burning behind your eyes, the way each word was harder to get out than the last.
ââŠSangsue?â you sniffed, âYou really donât remember calling me sangsue?â
The recognition visibly washed across his face and his other hand reached for yours before you had time to react, grasping both your hands, almost frantic. âYesâI said that, but it doesnât mean...I donât think youâreâIâd never call you that.â
You still couldnât be believe him, not fully. Youâd heard the word with your own ears, in his voice, knew what that word meant to you.
âI meant it teasingly,â he speaking quicker, his fingers tightened around yours instinctively like he knew youâd try pull away, words rushing out to reduce the damage heâd done that night. âEndearingly. Itâsâitâs like calling you clingy, but not in a bad way, in the way youâŠyou cling to me. The way you hang onto me. It wasnât an insult. Iââ
He winced. âA leech. I meant leech.â
Your eyes roll back.
âOh, fantastic,â you scoff, deadpanned. âbecause thatâs so much better.â
Regulus nodded rapidly, almost too rapidly, as though he feared the apology wouldnât land unless he offered it with his entire body. A helpless sound left himâsomething between a groan and a plea. âI know,â he blurted, voice thin and earnest. âI know it sounds awful. I know it does.â
He was tugging you closer, caution but insistent as he spokeârambled, spilled out words trying to fix things, make the anger and hurt that was etched into your face leave.
âItâs all a misunderstanding. Iâm sorry. I wonâtâI wonât use that word again, not ever. I didnât realise how it would sound, what it meant to you, I didnât know youâd heard me, Iââ His breath faltered, shoulders caving in a way that made your throat tighten all over again.
Step by step, he coaxed you forward until the backs of his knees hit the bedframe. The moment they did, he let himself sink down onto it, but he didnât let go of youânot once. Instead, his hands slid to your waist, fingers splaying wide over your waist and hips as if he were trying to relearn the shape of you with his palms.
âI never want you far from me,â he said, voice quieter now, raw at the edges. He looked up at you, searching your face like he needed to analyse every flicker of emotion there.
When you speak your voice is baseless and brittle, âYou donât?â
âNot for a moment.â He lifted your hands to his lips and pressed small, desperate kisses to the backs of them.
âThis last week has beenââ He broke off, exhaling shakily. The breath collapsed out of him, âItâs been miserable,â he confessed, the word barely above a whisper. âEverything felt wrong. I couldnât sleep, I couldnât focusââ
When your hands find their way into his hair, he quiets without thinking. Eyes fluttering shut, like solace had finally been granted to him, and his thumbs drew unconscious lines along your sides, small, soothing, pleading motions that made you melt, made you forget, made you forgive.
âHow could I ever not want this?â he murmured, leaning into your touch.
my inbox has bugged out,,, ive lost like half of everything there :'(((
i have no idea exactly whats missing now most of the fic requests are still there i think???? but like literally i had 50+ and now i have 23.... erm IM NOT IGNORNING YALL ITS EITHER GONE OR IM GETTING TO IT I PROMISE,,,IVE READ IT AND ILL TRY REMEMBER WHAT U SAID IF ITS GONE BUT IF NOT IM SORRY TO ALL MY BABES đđđđđ
