TIMOTHÉE CHALAMET As Bob Dylan A Complete Unknown · 2024

Would you be willing to write Regulus x reader who struggles with anorexia, where she's having a tough day and he helps them eat.

Don't if you're not comfortable tho

A taste of comfort

Y/N struggles with anorexia, and on a tough day, Regulus offers his quiet yet unwavering support, reminding her she’s not alone.

requested by anonymous

Regulus Black x female anorexic! reader

word count: 687

warnings: mentions of anorexia problems

masterlist, Regulus masterlist

Y/N could feel the weight of the day pressing down on her shoulders as she sat curled up on the windowsill, her arms wrapped tightly around her knees. The late afternoon sunlight streamed through the glass, casting golden hues across the room, but she hardly noticed. Her mind was consumed by the gnawing ache in her stomach, the relentless voice whispering cruel things in the back of her mind.

She had managed to avoid eating all day. It wasn’t supposed to be this hard. She had promised Regulus she was trying. She wanted to try. But today, the self-doubt had crept in like a storm cloud, and suddenly, the idea of food felt unbearable again.

Her struggles with anorexia had begun years ago, slowly and insidiously. What had started as a desire for control in a chaotic world had spiraled into something far darker. It had taken root in her thoughts, dictating her every decision. Every bite felt like a battle, every meal a war she was losing. She had pushed people away, convinced that nobody could understand the suffocating fear that came with eating.

And then, she had met Regulus.

They had crossed paths in the most unexpected way—a chance encounter in the Hogwarts library. She had been tucked away in a quiet corner, poring over a book she wasn’t really reading, when he had sat down across from her. At first, she had been wary. He had a reputation, a certain air of cold detachment that made people keep their distance. But there was something about the way he looked at her, something unspoken but deeply understanding.

Slowly, he had become a presence in her life. He never pried, never forced her to talk, but he had a way of making her feel seen. With him, she didn’t have to pretend to be okay. And somehow, despite the walls she had built, he had slipped through the cracks, offering her the quiet support she hadn’t realized she needed.

The door creaked open, and soft footsteps padded across the floor. She didn’t have to look up to know it was him.

“Y/N?” Regulus’ voice was gentle, but there was an edge of concern to it. He crouched down beside her, resting a hand lightly on her arm. “I haven’t seen you all day.”

She hesitated, then sighed. “I just… I needed to be alone.”

Regulus exhaled quietly, his thumb tracing soothing circles over her skin. He didn’t push. He never did. But she knew he saw right through her, past the carefully constructed walls and the forced half-smiles.

After a few moments of silence, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a small, wrapped piece of chocolate. He placed it in her palm without a word.

Y/N stared at it, her fingers curling around the wrapper. “Regulus, I can’t—”

“You can.” His voice was firm but kind. “I know it’s hard. But you need to eat something. Just a little.”

Tears burned at the back of her eyes. The idea of eating—even something as small as this—felt impossible. But then she looked at him, at the quiet determination in his grey eyes, the way his fingers curled around hers, grounding her. He wasn’t angry. He wasn’t frustrated. He was just here.

With a shaky breath, she unwrapped the chocolate and broke off a tiny piece, placing it hesitantly in her mouth. The sweetness melted against her tongue, and though the guilt threatened to crash over her like a wave, Regulus was there, steady and unwavering.

“There you go,” he murmured. He brushed a strand of hair behind her ear. “I’m proud of you.”

A tear slipped down her cheek, and he caught it with his thumb, pulling her into his arms. She buried her face in his shoulder, his scent—familiar and warm—offering a comfort she hadn’t realized she needed so desperately.

“I don’t want to feel like this forever,” she admitted in a whisper.

Regulus tightened his hold on her, his lips pressing a soft kiss against her temple. “You won’t,” he promised. 

“I’ll be with you every step of the way.”

A Hogsmeade date

Y/N struggled with insecurity, but Regulus, hopelessly smitten, finally took her on a date.

requested by @misskity1912-blog

Regulus Black x Chubby Fem! reader

words: 944

warning: mentions of insecurity

note: part two to Hidden in plain sight

find more here: masterlist, Regulus masterlist

Regulus sat at the Slytherin table, utterly dazed, his chin resting in his palm as he stared dreamily across the Great Hall at Y/N. His porridge had long since gone cold, but he hadn’t noticed—he was too lost in his thoughts, replaying the moment she had said yes to him over and over again in his mind.

“I still don’t understand how she agreed,” he muttered, more to himself than anyone else.

Barty groaned, throwing his head back dramatically. “Merlin, Regulus, this is worse than before! You’ve been staring at her for ten minutes straight. Eat your bloody food.”

Evan smirked as he took a sip of his pumpkin juice. “No, let him have his moment. It’s adorable, really.”

Regulus scowled, but it lacked any real irritation. “I just don’t get it. She’s brilliant, kind, beautiful—why would she choose me?”

Pandora sighed, ever the voice of reason. “Maybe because she sees something wonderful in you, just like you see in her?”

Regulus opened his mouth to argue but found that he had no response. He turned his gaze back to Y/N, who sat alone at the Ravenclaw table, her head bowed as she picked at her food. She never seemed to talk to anyone, always lost in her world. His heart clenched at the sight. She looked so lonely, and yet, there was something about her solitude that made her seem untouchable, as if she had built walls that no one had ever tried to climb.

“I don’t deserve her,” he murmured, barely audible.

Barty groaned louder, slamming his fork onto the table. “For Salazar’s sake, if you start getting all tragic and brooding about this, I will personally hex you. She likes you, Regulus. Enjoy it.”

Regulus sighed, though a small, reluctant smile played on his lips. Maybe, just maybe, Barty was right. For once, he allowed himself to believe that Y/N truly wanted to be with him.

Evan chuckled, leaning forward. “You should see yourself right now. It’s like watching a lovesick puppy.”

“I am not lovesick,” Regulus retorted, but his voice lacked conviction.

“You so are,” Pandora teased, nudging his arm. “And it’s sweet. Honestly, I think Y/N would be surprised if she knew how much you admired her.”

Regulus tensed at the thought. “You don’t think she thinks it’s a joke, do you?”

Evan sighed. “Mate, if she thought it was a joke, she wouldn’t have said yes. Stop doubting everything and enjoy the moment. This isn’t a strategy meeting; it’s a date.”

Regulus frowned, chewing over Evan’s words. It was true—Y/N had said yes. That had to mean something. Still, the fear of somehow messing everything up gnawed at him. But as he glanced at her again, watching the way she absentmindedly flipped through the pages of a book with a soft, distant look in her eyes, he felt a strange sense of peace settle over him.

Perhaps, for once, things were exactly as they were meant to be.

-

Hogsmeade Day had arrived, and Y/N stood in front of her mirror, adjusting the fabric of her oversized sweatshirt. It was comfortable, long enough to cover her hips, draping over her arms in a way that made her feel hidden. Paired with a flowing, ankle-length skirt, it was the perfect outfit—not too tight, not too revealing. Just safe.

She smoothed her hands over the fabric, exhaling shakily. No matter what she wore, she still saw the same girl in the mirror. The same girl with round cheeks, thick arms, a body that felt too large for the world she lived in. A girl who had spent years believing that no one could ever look at her the way she looked at them.

And yet… Regulus had asked her out.

It still didn’t make sense. She had replayed the moment in her mind countless times, trying to find some hidden joke in his voice, some sign that it wasn’t real. But there was none. He had looked at her with a certainty that she couldn’t comprehend.

She swallowed hard and turned away from the mirror. If this was all some cruel game, she wasn’t sure she could handle it. But if it was real… if there was even the smallest chance that Regulus Black wanted to spend time with her, she would let herself have this day. Just this one.

-

Taking a deep breath, Y/N stepped out of the castle, her fingers gripping the edges of her sleeves. The cold air nipped at her cheeks as she made her way toward the entrance gates, her heart hammering in her chest. What if he changed his mind? What if he took one look at her and regretted asking her?

Her thoughts were silenced the moment she spotted him.

Regulus stood just outside, hands tucked into the pockets of his coat, his sharp, elegant features softened by the small, cheeky smile on his lips. His grey eyes lit up the second they landed on her, and for a moment, Y/N forgot how to breathe.

“There you are,” he said, his voice warm. “For a second, I thought you stood me up.”

Y/N swallowed, hugging herself slightly. “I… I wouldn’t do that.”

Regulus tilted his head, studying her for a moment before stepping closer. “You look beautiful.”

A rush of warmth flooded her face, and she instinctively glanced away, refusing to believe he meant it. “You don’t have to say that.”

His brows knitted together in confusion before something in his expression shifted—gentle, yet firm. “I say what I mean.”

At the Three Broomsticks, the air hummed with chatter and the occasional clink of glasses. The scent of warm butterbeer and cinnamon lingered, wrapping them in a cocoon of comfort against the autumn chill outside. Y/N curled her fingers around the warm tankard, letting the heat seep into her skin. She took a small sip, savoring the sweetness and spice as she glanced at Regulus, whose own fingers brushed against hers more than once as they rested on the table.

Neither pulled away.

“I still don’t understand how you find Quidditch interesting,” Y/N teased, tilting her head as she took another sip. “It’s just people chasing a ball.”

Regulus gasped, placing a hand over his heart as though she had personally insulted his family name. “Chasing a ball? Y/N, Quidditch is an art.”

She arched a skeptical brow, barely holding back a laugh. “An art of nearly falling to your death?”

He smirked, eyes gleaming with amusement. “Exactly.”

She huffed a laugh, shaking her head before reaching for the book beside her. Its spine was new, the scent of parchment and ink still fresh. She flipped through the pages with reverence, her fingers gliding over the words as if they held something sacred. “This, though,” she murmured, “this is art. The way the author describes magic, it’s beautiful.”

Regulus leaned in slightly, his interest piqued. “Read me your favorite passage.”

She hesitated, her lips pressing together before she exhaled softly. With a knowing smile, she turned to a well-worn page and began reading aloud, her voice weaving through the air with quiet passion.

Regulus watched her, utterly transfixed. He wasn’t certain if it was the words she spoke or the way she spoke them—her voice dipping with emotion, her fingers lightly tracing the lines, her expression soft with admiration. Either way, he found himself hanging onto every syllable like she was telling the most fascinating story in the world.

When she finally closed the book, she glanced up at him. “You’re staring.”

A slow, lazy smile curled on his lips. “You make it hard not to.”

A light blush crept up her neck, and she quickly busied herself with taking another sip of butterbeer. “Flattery will get you nowhere, Black.”

“Oh, I don’t know,” he mused, twirling his tankard in his hands. “I think it’s working just fine.”

They lingered for a while longer, talking about books, Quidditch, and anything in between. The fire crackled in the hearth, casting flickering shadows along the wooden beams, but eventually, the golden sky outside signaled that the afternoon had begun to fade. Reluctantly, they stepped out into the crisp breeze rolling through the village.

Without hesitation, Regulus shrugged off his coat and draped it over her shoulders. The fabric was warm, carrying the faint scent of cologne and something distinctly him. Y/N blinked at him, startled by the effortless gesture.

“Can I see you again after this?” he asked, hands slipping into his pockets.

She tilted her head, studying him. “You… want to?”

He chuckled, shaking his head fondly. “More than anything.”

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

IG credit to shotbyorion 💥💥💥

Wow, he’s really good. Fantastic reflexes.💥💥💥

IG credit to redbullf1academy

So handsome🌻🌻🌻🌻

Credit to Vanity Fair

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.

timmy takes rome🇮🇹

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

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

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)