hii could you write a regulus black x reader where the reader is a slytherin and she's very feminine and a bit clueless? like a "bimbo" but not in a degrading way if that makes sense
so sorry for this being so late, but I hope I did your idea justice. I haven't ever really written a sort of bimbo character, so I tried my best with this one.
Over the head
Pairing: Regulus Black + reader Warnings: none, I believe but let me know. word count: 1700 words Hey! If you think this didn't suck, feel free to check out my harry potter masterlist, my marauders masterlist, and also my about me post. Requests are open just be sure to follow the request guidelines.
a/n: the picture is not mine, I got it from pinterest.
"So unicorn hair is used in calming drought because of its peaceful nature, not because it's stable," Regulus explains, his voice soft as he speaks over Professor Slughorn.
I hum, finally understanding the concept after an hour and a half of potions class, I followed up, “Is that why it’s used in wands?”
“Not specifically, it’s used in wands because of its stability, not because of its calm nature,” he repeats, but this time, the causes flipped. I bite my bottom lip, confused again. He places his hand on mine gently and he reassures me, “I’ll help you when we get back to the dorms.”
“Not the only thing he’ll help you with if he gets his way,” Barty interrupts from the seat behind us, Evan sitting next to him, asleep on the desk, mouth open, just about ready to drool. Regulus’ face flushes, and he snaps, “Shut up, Crouch.”
Barty continues to chuckle while Regulus’ face gets more red. I look between both of them. Barty smirks and I turn to ask Regulus, tugging slightly on the sleeve of his arm, “What does he mean, Reggie?”
“He’s just teasing, don’t worry darling,” the nickname rolls off his tongue, making me nervous and making my heartbeat quicken. I remember that we’re still in class when professor Slughorn starts to wrap up, “Remember, there’s a paper on the calming drought due next week, and I’m excited to see everyone for my dinner tonight at the slug club, don’t forget to wear your best attire!”
He claps his hand with excitement and it reminds me, I’ve yet to decide on the finishing touches of my own outfit. I turn to Regulus and ask him, “Can you help me with my outfit, pleaasseee?”
“I thought we were going to go over today’s information before we went to the dinner?” Regulus asks, his voice smooth and sweet. Yes, we did say that, but the outfit is much more important. I pout and say, “But the outfit needs to be done before seven, the paper isn’t due until next week, that’s plenty of time!”
“I’m not sure how much help I can be,” he replies, after he gulps. I grin and clasp my hands together in excitement. I giggle, “You’ll be a great help, I’m sure.”
But that isn’t exactly how it went.
“I need you to actually help me.” I say, huffing slightly. Regulus was refusing to give me any direct opinions, all his responses were yes, you’re right or whatever you think. What’s the point of having someone to help me with my clothes if they weren’t going to actually help? He says, “I think you’ll look beautiful no matter what you wear.”
This time, I actually huff, I try not to pound my foot to the ground too. I say with a pout, “That’s exactly what I don’t want to hear, but thank you anyways,” my cheeks bloom with pink at the compliment, nonetheless. I puff out my chest and lift both options in the air; a black bow and a green bow. I ask, “Which one should I wear?”
“The green one,” he chooses, and I bite my lip in thought. I twirl, showing off my similar green satin dress, and say, “wouldn’t it be too much green this way?”
I remember last summer at the Rosier’s, Mrs. Rosier told me not to wear too much of the same color or else I’ll drown in it. I don’t see any reason why I shouldn’t follow her advice. She has the most beautiful dresses that always match the flowers that she plants in her gardens.
He thinks for a bit before concluding, “there can never be enough green.”
“Don’t listen to him. His Slytherin pride is getting in the way of him making a sound decision. The black bow for sure, it matches your ballet flats.” Pandora says, walking into the swinging door of our dorm. I nod my head and listen to my friend, the only one who dresses better than Mrs. Rosier is Pandora, I hand the black bow to Regulus while he sits on my bed. I walk to the mirror and attach the black bow to my hair.
“How are you even here anyways? You shouldn't be allowed in the girls’ dorms because of your ‘impure intentions’,” Pandora says, picking up a pair of heels that she’s going to wear to Slughorn’s dinner, making air quotes at the end of her statement. Regulus shrugs his shoulders, but I interrupt, “What do you mean by pure intentions?”
They both share a look, but neither reply. Regulus turns red. I repeat, “What do you mean by impure intentions? I asked Regulus to come help me with my outfit.”
“Nevermind,” Pandora backs down, and starts to apply some makeup to her face. Regulus is still flushed while he fusses with his suit. I pout, and then try to explain, exasperated, “He is my date afterall!”
“Forget I said anything, now quick before the dinner starts in ten minutes,” Pandora says, and she places her brush down and walks out the door. Regulus stands up from my bed and he walks towards me holding his hand out. We leave the dorm then the common room. I start to walk left, but I’m pulled to the right. He says, “Love, it’s the other way.”
“Oh, thank you, Reggie.” I giggle slightly, and I hook my arm tighter around his bicep. I wonder why I’m the only one who he calls love.
The dinner is already in full swing as it usually is by the time we get there. Slughorn already had two cups of wine, and everyone was sitting at their designated spots. Regulus leads me to where we usually sit, and Pandora walks to her own date, Lovegood who was sitting opposite Regulus and I.
Where half-way into the first course when Professor Slughorn notes, “Ahh, Miss y/l/n, I see you’re missing your usual pink attire tonight.”
I swallow the piece of food in my mouth before nodding my head. I reach out to squeeze Regulus’ hand, and say “Yes, Professor, I decided to wear something that will match Regulus instead.”
Barty ribs Regulus from beside him, and subconsciously, Regulus toys with his signature emerald green tie, that my dress is matching. Professor Slughorn lifts his elbow to the table and rests his cheek on his hand, wistfully, he says, “Young love, such a wonderful couple.”
My face turns red, and I turn to Regulus, “Should we correct him?”
Regulus shakes his head, and he takes my hand in his own, though his face is expressing emotions that I don’t understand. He says, “At the rate that he’s downing the wine, he won’t remember by tomorrow.”
I nod my head, it does make sense. Slughorn always stumbles to get back to his office by the end of the dinners anyways. But I can’t help the nagging feeling that stings in my chest. Barty alludes to something for the second time today and for the millionth time in my life, “Or maybe Regulus doesn’t want to correct him, ever thought of that?”
I frown, why wouldn’t Regulus want to correct Professor Slughorn? I ask, my voice hushed, I’m sure the professor wouldn’t want to hear the answer to this question, “do you not like Professor Slughorn?”
Barty simply just chuckles while Regulus shoots him a glare. Pandora who also took note of the interaction was also laughing. What is it that I’m missing? I’m starting to get really annoyed. I huff, “What is it that you’re all laughing at?”
A few people turn from a few seats away, but all I can focus on is Regulus’ face turning down, the tips of his ears turning hot as Pandora, Evan and Barty continue to chuckle. Barty ribs Regulus one more time before saying, his voice low, “Maybe it’s time you finally admit your secret.”
A secret. Regulus has a secret? He seems to contemplate the thought, before standing up, still holding my hand. He lowers his head slightly and says, his voice loud enough for Professor Slughorn to hear even when he’s engrossed in conversation with someone else, “Excuse us for a moment, please.”
I love the way he talks, it’s always so elegant. We walk out of the room, and Regulus lowers my hand, and he leans against the corridor’s brick walls. He sighs, and I say, “Are you going to tell me your secret?”
“Yes…” he says, trailing off. I wait, I don’t like being rushed when I’m about to tell a secret, though I don’t have many. He fumbles with his fingers a little before admitting, “I want you to know, that there is no pressure for you to answer this, or even reciprocate.”
“Reciprocate?” I giggle, what kind of secrets do I need to share with him? It only seems to make him more nervous. He takes a step towards me, standing up to his full height, filled with Gryffindor courage despite the Slytherin in our veins. He declares, “I like you, as more than a friend. I want to be with you, romantically speaking, as in, a relationship.”
It takes me a second. Regulus likes me? I didn't think about that at all, do I like him? I think out loud, “I don’t know, I- I always get nervous when I’m around you, and my heart beats faster. And there are these butterflies that sort of just go bonkers when you’re around.”
“I believe it does mean that you share my feelings…unless it means that you hate me,” he says, face falling at the end. I shake my head vigorously, and I reply quickly, “No, I don’t hate you. I always want to be around you.”
“Okay, well, can I kiss you?” he suggests, and I’m excited when he asks. I guess I do share his feelings, I don’t think there’s anyone that I would like to be with romantically, other than him.
“On the cheek? You’ve already done that before Regulus.” I giggle, remembering all the times he’s pecked my face after I’d given him a gift he particularly liked. He shakes his head, and oh, I think I get it now. I nod my head, and wait for his lips to land firmly on mine. Mmhmm, all the butterflies are flying again.
