#but james seems to be getting fucking raked

[4stary]

Oh fuck it’s nearly four hours and now Todd’s getting into this shit. What the fuck did James do?!

[sun-kissy]

Hi, i wanted to request a james potter x reader thingy :))

So the idea is that james and reader broke up during hogwarts/directly after because they had the children talk, james really wants to be a father but reader is terrified of pregnancy so they break up. But over the years the reader keeps yearning for james and eventually they meet again when james and lily are together and have baby harry and its just really angsty 😭😭

Hope all of this makes sense i thought of this while listening to a song lyric

thank you for the request babe i love how your brain works <3 this is quite angsty so hopefully you like it! and now i’m curious to know what song 👀

also here’s some shameless promotion for @astonishment’s series with the same name, it’s deliciously tragic (☹️☹️☹️) and everyone should check it out!!

in another life | j.p.

“Calm down, babe,” Sirius mutters as you walk in step, looping his arm through yours.

You nibble on your bottom lip anxiously, sighing as you glance over at him. “It’s not that easy, Siri. I’m seeing him after what — four years? I can’t just calm down!”

He rolls his eyes, reaching towards you and thumbing at your lip to save it from your torment. “You’re seeing me after four years.”

You turn to Sirius, and he huffs out a laugh at your deadpan expression. “Well, you never asked me to marry you.”

Sirius wiggles his eyebrows, his lips curving up into a grin. “Marry me?”

“Fuck off, Black.”

James and Lily Potter were holding a meet-up of sorts, and had invited most people in your year at Hogwarts. You were hesitant to go, given your history with James, but Sirius insisted you tag along. You knew he, Remus, and Peter had stayed in touch with James. Rightfully, you ought to have too. But neither of you tried to; maybe you both knew it was better that way.

Sirius simpers, coming to a halt in front of the large black gates of the mansion. He reaches forward and begins to twist the lock, and you instinctively reach over and grab his hand to stop him. He turns to you, confusion twisting his features. “What are you — oh. Oh, sweetheart.”

He softens when he sees the expression on your face. You’re biting your cuticles, and the anxiety in your features is palpable. Sirius sighs and firmly pulls your hand away from your mouth, intertwining your fingers together. “It’s gonna be okay. Just be cordial with him. There’s no bad blood, right?”

“Right,” you mutter, albeit uncertainly.

“But, um…” he sighs, dropping your hand to rake his fingers through his hair. “There’s something I should’ve told you before. But I didn’t wanna freak you out.”

“What?”

The apprehension in your tone causes Sirius to wince. “James and Lily, they… they’ve got a baby.”

There’s a beat of loud silence as the fact sinks in, a mount of uncertainty and hurt settling in the pit of your stomach.

“Oh.”

You’re trying not to show it, but the heartbreak on your face is painfully obvious. Sirius pouts, moving to take your hand again. “Babe, I’m sorry. I should’ve –”

He doesn’t get the chance to finish his sentence, the gates swinging open to reveal a beaming James Potter.

“Pads,” he grins immediately, eyes locking on Sirius as he moves towards him and swoops him into a quick hug.

You take the moment to look James over. He looked exactly like you remembered — messy curls, toned biceps, that movie-star grin. Yet something felt different, in the way he pulled Sirius into a hug without all the raucous fervour he would’ve at 16, how he held him so gently at arm’s length while talking to him. He’d softened, you realised, from the responsibilities of fatherhood and being a husband.

They pull apart a moment later, and his gaze drifts to you. His smile loses a bit of its sunshine, not softening but not quite dimming either. “Y/n, hey.”

There’s a moment of hesitation as he looks at you, but then he seems to decide upon giving you a hug too.

“Hi,” you mutter as he shortens the distance between you, needling his arms under yours to press them to your back. You embrace him in return, and a sudden pang of hurt shoots through your heart at the familiarity of the action.

Perhaps he was remembering it too, from the way he tightened his grip. Both of you were heavy on physical touch, and it was undeniably the best part of your relationship back in Hogwarts — how he’d always have a hand wrapped around your waist, how you’d wake up to cuddles and hugs every morning. You didn’t exactly have anyone to hug anymore, living alone.

So you convince yourself that the reason you hold on to James for slightly longer than necessary was because you craved human touch, not because of… anything else.

Finally, James pulls away, his arms dropping to his sides as he gives you a small smile. You plaster one onto your face too, for his sake. “So,” he starts as he turns around, beginning to lead you and Sirius into the mansion, “how’ve you been, Y/n?”

You can feel Sirius’ gaze burning holes into the side of your head, but choose to ignore him. “I’ve been great, yeah. You?”

James nods. “That’s cool. Yeah, I’ve been good too. Things have been fun, but kind of busy; you know, with work and Lily and the baby…” He seems to realise what he’s said, and clears his throat awkwardly. Oh, of course. The baby.

Sirius is beside you in an instant, arching his eyebrows and nudging your elbow to respond.

“Oh, um… congrats on the baby, by the way.”

James turns around to face you as you walk, and you give him a grin to prove that you’re being genuine — to show him that it didn’t feel like there was a knife being twisted in your gut every time the word baby was brought up.

His eyes soften, and you know he can tell how you’re feeling. But he gives you a grateful smile, and says no more as the three of you come to a stop in front of the house.

“By the way,” James mutters as he pushes the door open, “you guys are like, an hour early. You’re the only ones here.”

You immediately turn around to glower at Sirius for subjecting you to more torture than necessary by bringing you early. But he all but smirks as he follows you in.

Your eyes coast around the mansion, taking it all in. It’s decorated in a minimalist aesthetic, white couches and brown rugs. It was pretty, that was for sure; but you couldn’t help but think how different it was from James’ place in the dorm — posters and stickers all over the walls, boisterously red curtains and LED lights. It used to be so full of life.

Honestly, you might’ve guessed an old couple lived here, if not for the small signs of their life as a family — the pacifier on the dining table, a cradle at the far end of the living room, and the heart-shaped photo frames lining the walls.

James watches you, a small smile playing on the edges of his lips. “You like it?”

He knows you wouldn’t like it, it’s everything you aren’t. Your dorm had been just like his; trying to fit as many vinyls and posters onto that small space next to your bed as possible. There would be fairy lights in every corner and succulents on the nightstand, a dreamcatcher which he’d gifted you hanging right above your bed. You were messy, as a person, and with your love too. You thought he was messy as well; but apparently he’d gotten his shit together already.

“Yeah, it’s simple. Pretty.”

“Honey —“ Lily bustles out the kitchen, a small gasp escaping her lips as she sees you and Sirius. She’s holding a ladle in one hand, and has her other arm wrapped around a baby perched on her waist.

You don’t register it when she kisses your cheek and hugs you, asks you how you’re doing and leads you to sit on the couch. Your gaze is locked on the baby, every second spent staring at him worsening the nauseous feeling at the back of your throat.

You must’ve asked for his name, because the word, “Harry,” registers in your head. This beautiful baby, with Lily’s deep green eyes and James’ luscious curls, was Harry.

Would you have named your baby Harry? Probably not, it was too generic. But it was too late now, to pick out names and choose a less boring aesthetic for a house together.

You had lost your chance back in seventh year, that night when you were laying on James’ bed, limbs tangled together as he raked his hands through your hair with all the love in the world. You’re gonna be my husband one day, you’d whispered, feeling so much affection for him you thought your heart would burst. Yeah, baby, he’d replied with a soft smile. We’re gonna live in a mansion, with our dogs and children and —

Children?

I don’t… I don’t want children. And that’s where it all started going downhill, that’s the moment James’ smile turned upside down and his hand dropped from your hair. It had turned into an argument, a screaming match — and eventually a reason to break up. James couldn't understand much you feared it, the pain of pregnancy and the exhaustion that came with motherhood. And some part of you knew that you weren’t blameless either — calling him awful things and accusing him of not loving you; though love was all he ever gave till the day you told him it was over.

The feeling of Sirius’ nails digging into your palm brings you back to the present, and you see him nodding absentmindedly as Lily rambles about how much trouble Harry’s been, and oh, she’s picked up a hobby of crocheting, and…

You flit your eyes to look at James sitting opposite you, gazing at you with his brows pinched in concern. Your emotions must’ve been obvious on your face, then. But he immediately looks away when Lily calls out to him, holding up Harry for him to carry.

You watch silently as James squeezes into the chair next to his wife, taking the small, lovely baby between his large, calloused hands. He smiles at Harry, looking at him though he was the most precious thing on earth. James’ fingers bunch Harry’s tiny shirt as he brings him close to his face, gently pressing a kiss to his forehead. Lily’s head lolls onto James’ shoulder as he shifts Harry into a comfortable lying position in his arms.

There you have it. The perfect family, with the gorgeous wife and the adorable baby and the man who could’ve been yours if you wanted.

It’s too much for you to take, and Sirius squeezes your hand as you start to shake. Harry coos, and you melt at how James’ face breaks into a sunny beam. He tilts his head to press a soft peck to his wife’s hair, and there’s so much love in that simple gesture that you feel like you could die.

You feel Sirius’ worried gaze on you, your hands trembling and your knee bobbing up and down. The taste of blood from how hard you’re nibbling on your lip is grounding; it brings you back to yourself, who you are, and not who you could’ve been.

“Hey,” he murmurs softly from beside you, but it doesn’t get lodged into your brain. The only thing you feel is your vision of the perfect family blurring, soft streams of regret rolling down your cheek. Sirius makes a small noise of pity from beside you, and James looks up instantly, eyes widening as they lock on you. Lily is fast asleep, baby Harry staring at you with his thumb stuck into his mouth.

“Y/n, you okay?” James asks gently, but you don’t reply, still looking at him with that distraught look on your face. You open your mouth, but you don’t seem to have the vocabulary to express the heartache you felt right that moment. It felt strangely like grief; like you were mourning for the version of yourself you never got to meet, for the version of James who didn’t have the chance to be yours.

James' mouth twists downwards in a frown as he stands up and steps closer towards you. It’s like an alarm is set off in your head, and you immediately jolt back to the present, sucking in a deep breath.

Your legs act of their own accord as you stand up, Sirius’s hand falling limp on the couch as he looks up at you in surprise. You gulp down the lump in your throat and fiercely brush the tears away, James coming to a halt in front of you. “Y/n, baby —“

“I’m not your baby.”

James slaps a hand to his mouth, eyes as wide as Harry’s now. “Fuck, no, it — it just came out. I didn’t mean to. Shit, you’re crying.”

“I’m okay,” you warble. James opens his mouth to retort but you don’t let him, knowing that the longer you spent here, the more the gaping hole in your chest would grow. You couldn’t bear it anymore, watching James with his wife and wishing it was you instead. The worst part was that it was all your fault, your stupidity and your rejection.

“I’m fine, really. I…I’m gonna go now, it was nice meeting you. Convey my love to Remus, Peter and the girls.” You pick up your bag, moving to the front door with a befuddled James tracking your movements.

“Y/n —“

“Bye, James,” you call out halfheartedly as you slip into your shoes. He comes to stand at the door, rocking Harry from side to side. He looks almost disappointed as you make to leave.

“I’m sorry.”

You look up, surprised. “It’s not your fault.”

James’ lips pursed together with guilt, seeming like he wants to say something as he opens and closes his mouth. He finally sighs, “It’s not your fault either.

It was startling, how he still knew just the right thing to say — he always had. The regret that had been clogging up your heart for years was drained out upon hearing that one sentence. James didn’t hold the utter failure of your relationship against you, and that was enough. If you couldn’t have his love, at least you had his forgiveness.

You give him a half smile and nod, turning around to leave. You’d go back to yours, more of a house than a home. But at least no one but yourself could hurt you there, there was no one to turn away and no hearts to break. No one to love.

“Hey.”

You spin back around to face the door, heart stopping upon seeing the moistness in his eyes. You hear the scratchiness in his throat as he sucks in a deep breath.

“James…”

“No, don’t — don’t say anything. I just wanted to tell you, um…” he defeatedly runs a hand through his hair and exhales shakily. “I hope we worked out, you know, in another life.”

That catches you off guard, your heart involuntarily squeezing in your chest. James looks almost embarrassed as he says it, but you see the vulnerability in his eyes. He was right — maybe there was some planet on which you were less of a coward, another world where he could put a ring on your finger. He’d been yours to lose in this life, perhaps he was yours to love in another.

You clear your throat, feeling nausea brimming in the pits of your gut. “Yeah, I… I hope so too.”

You spare yourself one last glance at him before turning towards the exit, praying he didn’t see the tears dribbling down your cheeks.

You squeeze your eyes shut and will yourself to trudge forward, before he can call out to you and break your heart all over again.

In a few long strides, you’re out the gates; out of James’ life again.

[1800jjbarnes]

◇ 𝐃𝐚𝐲 𝟗 : 𝐂𝐨𝐜𝐤 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠 - 𝐁𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐲 𝐁𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐬 ◇

Pure Relaxation

【Synopsis】 : Bucky kept getting lost over and over again. Becoming increasingly more frustrated with the technology in front of him as time passes, it's a good thing you are here to help him cool off.

『W.C』 :  703

-> Genre: Suggestive, Fluff. Gamer Au.

Pairing: Avengers!Bucky x Girlfriend!Reader

[Warnings] : Angry Bucky. Fingering. Mention of sex. Sweet intimacy. Swearing.

Masterlist | Kinktober List

This was a terrible idea… Actually, scratch that, it was a sinisterly great idea and holy shit were you internally screaming at Bucky for suggesting such an idea. He had always said that he wanted to try to be more physically intimate since he is not the one to normally show physical affection. And you being a touch-starved person, how could you ever deny the touch of your lover? He was sitting in his room on his office chair. He and the others were all doing there mission reports for the month and Bucky suggested you to come cuddle him while he does it.

At first, it seemed innocent, you were koala hugging him, with your legs sitting bent either side of him. Every now and again you felt him wrap his arms around you to give you a hug or draw shapes along your spine. You were in complete bliss, even tempting to fall asleep. But when it was like a switch went off and Bucky. He kept losing his focus, huffing out every time he saw something he didn't understand. stupid computers. Stupid technology. He was getting frustrated as the moments passed and needed something to help him cool down…

Or someone.

“Come on baby, Before Tony calls me and asks why I'm not doing my work.” Bucky mumbled annoyed at the fact you had a timer built into the computers so he could yell people for not doing the work in a efficient manor. He helped you prepare for him. His fingers were deep inside you as he whispered nothing but sweet things in your ear. You were a whining mess wanting so badly to come undone all over his fingers. “Such a god girl.”

“J-James..” Your grinding hips start to stutter getting yourself tip over the edge. You came hard, feeling your liquids pool around your lover's fingers. He wasted no time in pulling them out and placing them in his mouth. He hummed at the taste wanting nothing more than to sit here for hours and fuck you, but instead, he promised to do this stupid report he doesn’t even want to do in the first place.

“Now for the fun part Honey.” he gripped his cock, stroking himself painfully slow before using his other hand to help you sit up so his tip was pushing against your dripping wet entrance. “Come on baby, take a seat.”

You sank down onto his thick dick, feeling him fill you up deliciously. Your hips automatically start to grind but his hands suddenly grip your hips tightly stopping you. Your eyes snap open to look at him, seeing his features were painted with a frustrated but sternness You sighed, silently apologizing, leaning down to press your body against his, laying your head on his board chest. His fingers rake up your naked form, calming you down before he groans “Don’t worry I’ll fuck you later.”

And so the hour begins, trying to sit still, and not grind against him and every time he got frustrated, you felt your cock twitch inside you, making you feel like you were going to combust. He wasn’t any better, every time he got angry he’d trust upwards into you so he could calm himself and it partially worked, but now all he wanted to do was fuck you into next week.

But once the next hour passed and then another a different form of desire began to brew. A need for intimacy. You were falling asleep, feeling a wave of comfort and peacefulness being so close to Bucky. You felt safe from him being nestled deep inside you. It was like your heart was opened to him and his, for you. Even after you fell deep asleep and he was done with his game. Neither of you wanted to move.

But to save yourselves from aching muscles later, Bucky picked you up, slipping out of you for only a moment before laying you down on the bed where he could let you cuddle up next to him while he sank back into you. No words were spoken, no eye contact was present. Your bodies did all the talking and as your limbs tangled around one another, you both knew this would become one of your favourite things to do.

[ghostbustting]

Going on vacation with current james and he is always horny because he is seeing you in a bikini all the time soooo (maybe Marathon sex??) ☺️

kinda short, but mmgmtmdhdjsns 🤭 (also, happy late late birthday to semaj)

╰┈➤“𝑩𝑬𝑨𝑼𝑻𝒀„ ๋࣭⭑

Current!James Hetfield x Reader

Contains Smut.

My body felt terribly weak, limp, tired. As well as my throat feeling sore from all the filthy noises I have let out for the past.. two hours, possibly, or three. I couldn’t even tell how long have we spent our time on this vacation just in our hotel room, bedsheets messy, our minds completely forgotten about the seconds ticking on the clock, not even noticing when rain starts trickling down onto the hotel room balcony, not even stopped by the time the rain stops.

His body was all I felt, his soul connected to mine. My eyes couldn’t help but gaze up and down the beautiful man in front of me, bare. Meanwhile I had to give in to his request, my bikini set staying on my fucked up state of a body, sweat all over my skin as I let the older man take great care of me— or rather, himself.

The whole morning, as we spent our time at the beach, my skin weren’t so oblivious to the eyes that rakes up and down my body, the only thing covering me being my bikini set that James seems to adore on me, his eyes never leaving the way the bikini top desperately try to cover up my breasts as I play around the beach, or the way my bikini bottom almost failed to cover up my ass, never failing to make his tongue dart out to swiftly lick over his bottom lip.

No wonder he was stuck on that damned deckchair the whole time, the towel we got from the hotel draped across his lap, a pathetic attempt to hide his hard boner that’s seeking freedom from behind his swimming trunks, one of his hand tucked under the towel and the trunks, desperately trying to get off before the boner gets worse, thinking I wouldn’t notice the quiet fucking moans leaving his lips every now and then, it was so obvious. And it was obvious as well that jerking off at this point did not work for him.

I supposed that was what led us here, on the hotel bed, fucking for what I remembered is our seventh round by this point.. or was it eighth?

James had me on all fours for him, his hands on my hips as he was on his knees behind me, his fucking jerk of a dick leaving and entering my numb and swollen hole, weak and desperate whimpers leaving my lips as I try to hold onto my position, my legs and hands shaking.

”Fuck.. so nice.. so good..” He groaned, fingers on my ass cheeks, nails digging into the soft skin ever so slightly, red from the countless times he had hit me there previously. Not that I mind.

Several parts of my body felt itchy, especially my neck, chest, and thighs. Those are from what I suspect are his teeth bitten marks, always hurts yet always make me feel so good, wanted, needed. The moment James loses control of himself, he was always like a puppy that’s been let out of his cage. Wild. Mean. Uncontrollable.

Tears were streaming down my red cheeks, pouring down onto the pillow below me, now soaked from my salty tears. I couldn’t quite feel my body completely, feeling several aching, yet the way his cock fill my desperate hole up is just way too irresistible, feeling him move in and out of me, the tip of his cock hitting every spots I didn’t even know exist in me before he showed me.

My breath came out in gasped heavy ones with every thrusts he made, fingers clutching onto the sheets below me tightly, trying to hold onto something desperately, cause it truly feels like I’m about to fall and drown into a sea of unbearable lust if I didn’t hold onto anything.

”J-James.. please..” I gasped out, panting as my hand gave up on keeping my position up, my body falling from being on all fours, limp on the bed, flinching every time he thrusts into me as small sobs leave my lips, “A-ah.. mm..” I whimpered, biting into the sheets to prevent myself from letting out more noises.

I just felt so weak. I can’t even release anymore, my body was aching so much. But at the same time, he felt so good. He make me feel so loved.

James grabbed my hips and pull them up, making my ass perk up on display for him as he held onto my waist, his cock thrusting in and out of me like there was no tomorrow. “Shit.. one more, princess.. okay? Can you do that for me?” He breathed out, shaking his head as he try to focus on his movements.

Despite being terribly weak, I force myself to nod and whimper out a silent, “Y-yes, James..”

He let out a breathless chuckle, stroking my skin as he whispered out in that goddamn seducing voice, “Atta girl..”

My eyes were as wide as they can get, almost popping out of their sockets as his thrusts make my mind swirl, losing control of myself as all I could do was just lay there underneath his big body, voicing out the pleasure he make me feel, eyes rolled to the back of my head.

”God.. fuck.. you’re so fucking enchanting.. that fucking bikini.. it makes me go insane.. what did your parents do to create you?”

His endless compliments only increased the tightness of the knot that was yet again appearing in my stomach for what felt like the thousands time now, my moans coming out in between my choked sobs, my fingers grasping to any part of the bedsheets I could hold onto around me.

”Let go, princess.. let go..”

And that’s what I did, my release this time gushing out fast, squirting all over his cock as I screamed out his name like my life depended on it, my walls clenching around his cock one last time as he pumped in and out of me and let go of his own release as well, groaning loudly.

I feel the sticky cum of his coat the inside of me, making me whimper at the feeling, overstimulated by how many times he had done that for the past two hours, not even able to feel anything now. Just numb. But so fucking pleased by the way he treated me.

Slowly, I begin to relax into the mattress below me, my chest heaving up and down, the breath coming out of me were unstable and shaky, my legs still shaking somehow. “You’re fucking crazy, James..” I shook my head with a huff.

James leaned down to my face, his fingertips coming to touch my cheek, his thumb darting out to wipe away my tear and stroke my cheek lovingly before he whispers, “Too bad we’re not done yet.”

[thollandneedy]

Don't you know- Peter Parker

A/n: Nah 'cause that fucking happened to me last week and i HAD TO write about it (Ofc with very different context and description). Btw, i listened to "Don't you know" by James Young while writing it, in case someone likes to listen to music while reading

Warnings: Swearing and smut

Summary: Peter and Y/n get stuck on traffic, but that doesn't mean that it have to be boring...

Don’t forget to share, like, comment and leave your ideas here

Bellah’s Masterlist 🪻

"Shut up" Y/n exclaims, smiling at her boyfriend.

"I told you May, would get me one," Peter comments, crossing his arms and looking sideways at the girl next to him, who seems to be enchanted by the small black car the boy had gotten for his eighteenth birthday.

"It's so cute! I love it." The girl laughs, walking a few steps forward and leaning her weight on the open window, so that she can see the details of the car her boyfriend had won.

"Say goodbye to meters and borrowed cars. Now I'm a new man." Peter walked to the front door, opened it and sat down in the driver's seat. His body slouches forward, reaching out and pulling the door open so that his girlfriend can get into the car too. "And I'm going to take my dear lady for a ride in this little beauty here" The brunette put both hands on the steering wheel.

May had always been a hard-working woman, and supporting her nephew when the boy's parents died had become a kind of livelihood so that she could have the energy to work. Due to financial difficulties, Peter didn't have anything above his aunt's budget, but after a promotion, she had finally managed to scrape together enough to give her nephew a car. Stark had also helped with some of the finances and to make the car more powerful than it already was, so it was a gift from both of them to the hero.

Y/n put on her seatbelt, pulling one of its sides until she could feel the pressure against her body. The girl slipped one of her free hands over Peter's hand, which was on the automatic gearshift, allowing him to give it to her after shifting into gear and continuing his journey. Late evening in New York was slowly falling, as the orange light from the buildings reflected off the crowded streets during rush hour. A few bars and restaurants were starting to open, and Peter had his plan to take his girlfriend out for a bite to eat and then park their conversations in an empty parking lot so that they could also get some alone time. The girl took off her two shoes, crossed her legs covered by jeans, and opened Spotify on her transparent cell phone with a Polaroid photo of the two of them.

"Can I put on a song?" The girl asks.

"Sure, love." Peter updates the car's multimedia while his girlfriend searches for something to listen to. 

"So, tell me. Who chose the car? Did you know you'd win?" The girl rests her hands on her lap.

"May had commented that one day she would give me everything I asked for, but it was never something I cared much about. She got a promotion at the hospital, and consequently her salary increased. Ever since I turned 16, she was raking it in." Peter comments without taking his eyes off the street.

"So you're going to be my private driver?" Y/n asked jokingly, causing the brunette to check his eyes in response.

"As far as I know, you have a driver's license." The hero laughs.

"Why would I drive if now you can take me wherever I want? I thought that was the definition of a passanger princess." The girl put her hand to her chest in an attempt to express surprise.

"Oh yes! Of course." Peter laughs.

(...)

"I'm literally going to explode," Peter says, opening the restaurant door so that his girlfriend can get out first. 

"Tell me about it." The girl says, putting her hand on her stomach and then looking at the time on her cell phone. "Fuck, we've got to get going. My parents will kill me if I'm late on a weekday."

"I thought they'd take it easy on you after eighteen." Peter takes the car key out of his pocket.

"They trust me, but still, we live in New York and they're worried." The girl shrugged, unable to contradict her parents.

"I'll take care of you, kitten. You're safe from the dangers of the night when you walk with me." Peter says proudly, causing a low chuckle from his girlfriend who was walking with her arms crossed.

"Of course! Let's pull you out of the superhero closet and tell my parents that I'm dating a guy who could have an accident at any moment in a fight with evil, technological villains." Y/n opens the car door, then sits down again.

"I think it's a great idea. We can let them know that you'll be moving in with me when I pass MIT, and we'll live in a house in the country with two kids and a dog." Peter comments, closing the car door and continuing his journey.

The white lights of the streets, together with the moon, gave the teenagers an unreal feeling. That feeling that the world isn't real, and their existence is just another speck in the middle of several grains of sand on a beach called the universe. The car drove slowly, on purpose, as Peter didn't want his girlfriend to leave. A slow song was playing on Y/n's Bluetooth, which responded to the music by diverting its eyes from the multimedia system implanted in the center of the car's dashboard. 

Peter laughed out loud when he read the name of the playlist the song was part of

"Really? Sexy guilty pleasure? That's the name of your sex playlist?" Peter makes fun of his girlfriend, who stares at him while holding in her laughter.

"In my defense, I started it when I was 16 and I haven't changed it because I find the name comical." The girl smiles as she says it, remembering when she had started exploring the literary universe of hot scenes in books that seemed innocent.

"Your sex life is comical, Y/n." Peter laughs, but then realizes what he's just said, and also jokes about himself without realizing it.

Y/n laughs out loud

"You're terrible at insults." The girl nods, looking at the passing streets like a drawing blurred by the speed of the car.

"Why haven't I ever heard that playlist?" The brunette lowered his eyes again to the name of the playlist playing in his car.

"I use it from time to time to read, or even when I... well... you know." Peter feels the blush rising to his cheeks.

His sex life with Y/n was almost restricted, and could even be considered for those over 14 if they were to classify it. Peter and Y/n hadn't had sex yet, let alone talked about it openly since their time together was considerably short. Even when they were friends, the subject of sex had never come up, unless they were in a circle of older friends and both were drunk. But even in this state, it seemed like a great sin to talk about sex. 

"Really?" Peter swallows dryly, stopping at a red light and running both hands down his dark-wash jeans.  "And what's that like?"

Y/n sucks in a breath when she hears her boyfriend's question. Their eyes meet, then dart away again in an attempt to make the conversation as awkward as possible. Y/n never had a problem talking about sex, but when it came to Peter, even his presence made her nervous.

"When I..." The girl tries to finish the sentence, really being precise in asking if he was asking about what she does in the long hours alone at night while Peter is asleep.

The boy can hear his girlfriend's heartbeat increasing and her throat swallowing. 

"That's it." He cuts her off.

The light turns green, and the blaring horn of a car cuts through the tension created between the two. Peter turns his eyes to the busy streets, while Y/n searches for confidence in herself. 

She looks at him out of the corner of her eye.

Gray shirt clinging to her toned muscles

Tight pants drawing her ass in perfectly

Puffed-out chest

Perfectly wavy hair

Her legs cross over each other, shrinking her body.

“Holy fuck” Peter thinks when he saw his girlfriend crossing her legs 

"It's nice. I like listening to music and closing my eyes, because I seem to get lost in time and sensation." The girl says, still silently watching hers boyfriend's reaction. "I like being without anything on my body. Just the cold sheets because of the air conditioning I turn on, so I don't sweat so much."

Peter pressed the steering wheel against his hands

"And what do you think about?" The boy asks as if his words were sailing over brittle ice.

Y/n takes a deep breath, turning half her torso towards her boyfriend.

What was she thinking?

Perhaps the times her parents went out on business, and the couple found themselves on the sofa taking off only their blouses. Or when she first felt Peter hard while she was on his lap kissing him

When he came out of the shower with just a towel tied around his waist, and his hair dripping with cold water. 

When he used his index finger to touch her chin, and pull her into a kiss

Those same fingers that could touch you so deeply that your legs would collapse without the strength to stand up, and he would pick you up to use you once again as whatever he wanted you to be. Only he could make you feel so wet that you didn't want his touch so close for fear of losing the track.

"You"

Peter feels his cock against the factory of his underpants.

"Tell me about what." His voice comes out sultry, as if for a few seconds, he had put his shame aside. "I want to hear you, love," the brunette asked, taking one of his hands off the gearshift and slowly reaching for Y/n's hand, which was resting on his thigh with the cell phone.

Peter had never acted or spoken like that, but he couldn't deny to himself that he wanted more. He always wanted more, not even if he had to imagine tasting his girlfriend's sweetness. His cock was throbbing against his pants, and he could feel it twitching inside them, while his breathing made a point of being nervous. Feeling Y/n on his fingers, wrinkling them with the groove of his cum, or even thinking about the sensation of his walls meeting his cock, made him lose his shame in seconds. 

When he thought about it, it was something extremely out of touch with reality, but everything he wanted to do, fortunately the initiative had to come from him. Hearing from his own girlfriend that she masturbated thinking about what he was doing was like raising the hackles of a king

The car seemed to get smaller and smaller, and not even the wind in the air could stop them both wanting to take off their clothes. The leather seat seemed to cling to their sweaty skins, searching for something to hold them inside the car. For Y/n, she couldn't describe whether the situation was good or bad, as her sexual experiences had not been very positive during her teenage years.

"I think of your touch. That time we kissed, and I could feel you brushing past my thigh and slowly trying to find my clit." The girl adjusted her posture in the chair, letting her legs relax as well as her posture.

Peter, for his part, could feel everything she was feeling. His powers allowed him to see that she was getting more and more comfortable in the seat because her hard-on was increasing with every double entendre word that was directed at her, and it was a very interesting game to play in the car during a post-work commute in New York. The cars moved slowly, and even if the clock asked them to go faster, they didn't want to. 

"Did you like it?" One of Peter's fingers slid down, tracing a straight line between the upper part of Y/n's thigh.

"Uh-huh." The girl commented, seeing that her hand had now lost the warmth of his touch, so that her body could feel it. 

"Me too." Peter comments, allowing his whole hand to touch Y/n's thigh, squeezing it briefly as a silent sign of confirmation that everything was okay. Then, his middle finger traced a line down the middle of her legs, causing a low moan to escape Y/n's mouth, who, still embarrassed, allowed her legs to spread further apart. The hero's cock was begging to be touched, but this wasn't the first time he'd thought of doing it. His plan had always been to let things happen naturally, but he was also smart enough to know that now with a car, he had more freedom.

"Peter." Y/n's hand finds his fist. "And if anyone sees. There are traffic cameras that can...

"The windows are tinted." Parker comments, looking directly at his girlfriend's breasts which were becoming more and more exposed against her clingy blouse. " Are you okay?"

"Please." Y/n begs in a sly request, drawing a naughty smile from the brunette. 

His index finger fingered his girlfriend's wet spot against the factory of her pants, putting pressure on the girl who relaxed her body against the seat. With one hand on the steering wheel and the other between his girlfriend's legs, Peter grunts to himself.

"Fuck, Y/n. You... you have no idea how much I've wanted to touch you for months." Peter confesses, biting his lip as he feels the girl roll against his fingers and lay her head back on the bench. 

"You have?" The girl gasps.

"We've never been able to spend much time alone, and I've always refused to do anything because... fuck... I can't want to fuck you," Parker confesses, trying to balance the car, his hard-on and his girlfriend at the same time.

Y/n feels her feet fall from the stereotypical virgin pedestal she has built for herself. Peter had never been a saint, and as hard as it was to believe because of his cute face and lack of girl-talking skills, he was still a male teenager who had desires and wishes repressed by shame. 

"Peter." Y/n groans lowly, gripping the hero's wrist tightly as he manages to find her weak spot.

A satisfied smile came from his lips as he began to make circular movements, causing the girl to moan a little louder. Y/n lowered her eyes to the pants that suddenly seemed to be tighter than usual on hers boyfriend. His decency as a person had gone, and all she could think about was tasting him and making him feel so good that he spoke his name out loud without caring if anyone heard.

"Yes. Speak my name, Y/n." The brunette asked, continuing his movements, but increasing the speed.

The friction was intense, and it would have been easy for her to finish right where she started, but her sense of justice and pity tried to speak louder.

"I wanted to touch you." Y/n exposed, staring shamelessly at the bulge in Peter's pants. 

"You talk so innocently as if you didn't want me to be fucking you with my fingers on this very bench." Peter lets out a sarcastic laugh, denying it to himself, and casting a longing glance at him.

Y/n's walls contract as he speaks, as if his body had a will of its own and felt empty when he had nothing to satisfy his carnal desires. 

"I can hear your heart racing, darling." Peter takes his hand off the wheel for a moment, squeezing his hard cock as a form of relief.

Removing the hand that was between his girlfriend's legs, he adjusts the rearview mirror and looks both ways down the avenue. 

"Why did you stop?" The girl straightens her posture in concern.

"I need you now."

"What?" Y/n swallows dryly.

"I want to have sex with you now. Do you?" Parker asks angrily.

Without thinking, Y/n replies:

"I want to" 

"Okay." The boy shifts into gear so that he can change lanes and find another road that leads further away. In a moment of anxiety, the car dies. "Fuck!" Peter curses, drawing a nervous smile from his girlfriend.

"Let's get out of here, Parker. I'm dying to get a taste of you."

[nightsmarish]

Summary: you and Sirius think James would look hot with blonde highlights

Poly!prongsfoot x reader (James Potter x reader x Sirius black) | 500+ words

A/n: I am so sorry this is so short omg, I've been weirdly busy the past few days and it's been hard to find time to write

Tw: rave mentioned, reader has dyed their hair before, sleepy James, I am still learning to write James, illusions to possible smut at the end

⊹₊ ✰ ⋆★⋆｡°⋆𖦹✮₊⊹₊ ✰ ⋆★⋆｡°⋆𖦹✮₊⊹₊ ✰

Sirius' record player is on in the background, softer than usual. James is resting his head on your stomach. Both of you splayed out on the sofa.

Sirius is sitting on the ground, the coffee table moved to the side to make room in front of him as he makes his next outfit for a rave he mentioned, likely also planning on how to get you to let him make one for you as well.

James is barely coherent at this point; a long day making him sodding exhausted and extremely prepared for the weekend. Your nails rake through his curls, still slightly wet from his shower.

"You know, Jamie, you'd look good with dyed hair."

Jamse barely gives a sign he heard you, tightening his hold on your back and burying his face further into your shirt like he wants under your skin.

Sirius looks over at you two, "you're right, he'd look bloody hot with blonde streaks or something."

You move James head so you can see his face, squishing his cheeks, glasses already discarded on a side table. "You would look fucking hot with blonde streaks, dear Merlin."

Your other boyfriend places down the wire and needle nose pliers he's using to move closer to the couch, "you want some blonde in your hair, baby?"

He moves his face out of your hands, laying back on your stomach. "wha' 'ver you wan'" James' voice is slurred with sleep.

ᯓ★

That's how you got her a week later; you sat on the counter top of your bathroom sink, and Sirius putting on his latex gloves to mix bleach.

James sits on a wooden stool, that has seemed to make its way around the entire house since you bought it, wearing a extremely stained shirt both you and Sirius have worn while dying your own hair.

"Any regrets, lover boy?" You shimmy on the counter to sit infront of the tanner of the two boys.

"I think that it's unjust for you to manipulate me in my sleep to get me to dye my hair." James grabs your ankles, hands rubbing up and down your shins.

"You could talk; it's got to count for some kind of awareness to what's going on." Sirius grins at his counterpart, mixing the bleach and walking behind James.

"So cruel, both of you, so cruel." He juts out his bottom lip, looking up at you with a pout.

"You haven't pulled out yet, so I'm starting to believe this is just a cute little act." Your grin is nearly identical to Sirius'.

"Don't talk to him about pulling out, love, we won't be able to finish before he gets restless." The darker haired boy laughs as he adjusts James head.

"Both, so, so bloody cruel."

ᯓ★

James' hair took to the dye pretty well, only ending up needing two rounds of bleach.

And fuck, you where right. He looks fucking hot. The blonde, thick, streaks that curl perfectly into his brown hair pattern.

"Bloody hell-" Sirius talks between kissing James "your look-" kiss "fucking delicous"

Sirius pauses for a second to look at you walking through the door of your home, throwing your bag to the ground and toeing off your shoes. "Come here, doll."

[quellmythirst]

Desperation

Summary: you and your boyfriend move to the city. Little do you know, your ex had plans of his own.

Ex!Reader x Billy Russo

4.3k

Warnings: 18+ ONLY. DON'T BE SHOCKED THAT BILLY RUSSO IS A MANIPULATIVE STALKER. smut, swearing, alcohol, pet names, manipulation, stalking, lying, fluff, reconciliation, exs to lovers, cheating. Dead Dove Do Not Eat.

"Billy?" You think as you walk down the aisle of the grocery store towards the tall man in a dark suit, his hair almost the same as his had been the last time you saw him, "can't be him." You try to reason, he's probably still overseas and you haven't seen him, since… well, since he walked away from you all those years ago. You're just about to turn, having talked yourself out of it when the man turns and sees you.

"Hi,” he rakes his hand through his hair, “is that really you?" he squints, his head tilting to the side in curiosity.

"Billy," you smile, trying not to melt at how happy he seems to see you, “Hi.” you give him a small wave.

"How've you been?" He asks, stepping towards you, "I didn't know you lived in this neighbourhood." Billy lies. He knows you and your little boyfriend just moved into the apartment building next to his.

He wasn’t surprised that it only took a week to memorise your new routine. You always moved like clockwork, just like you did when he knew you all those years ago. It was only when he spotted you last night staring out into the city lights that he decided that it needed to be today. You have been living on takeout for a week and you always did hate that. You’ll need a home cooked meal after a week of moving and unpacking. It's perfect. A perfect place for a chance meeting of old flames. 

"I've been okay," your eyes glance over him. He looks good, better than good. His suit is so perfectly tailored and shit, is that armani? Billy's shiny dark hair is combed back in a way that looks effortless but you know he would have taken years to perfect. You’re so focused on ogling him that you forget to say anything for a second, "We just moved here."

"Good choice,” he says, like he isn’t just itching to reach out and touch you, “it's a nice neighbourhood." He pauses, taking a step toward you, "we?" He asks, trying to feign ignorance like he hasn't kept tabs on you since he got back. Like he doesn’t know about Ash the guitarist or Leo the bar owner or Bobbie the artist. All of them, useless, appalling mimics, comparisons, terrible shadows of Billy and none of them as useless as James the entrepreneur who always claimed he was one shot from making it big.

"Yeah, Jim said there’s opportunity in the city. So we decided it would be easier to move," you shift, why is he looking at you like that? “Be where the action is and all that.”

"Jim, huh. Sounds nice." He takes a step back, hoping that you're going to follow his movement like you always used to. You’re looking at him almost like you used to, except now your eyes are darting to the left, seeing if anyone sees you, if you can run maybe?

"He is." You step forward, "he's a really good guy." He is, he’s nice, reliable, he loves you and he isn’t going to fuck off to a war the moment things start to get real. 

"I'm happy for you." His hand reaches out wanting so badly to touch you after so long. But instead of holding your cheek like he wants to, it lands on your shoulder. Billy smiles so sincerely at you, and says the one thing he’s always known to be true, "all I ever wanted was for you to be happy."

"Hmm. Yeah " you step back from his hand, his intense gaze getting a little too much for you. Your stomach and heart swirling from the way those pretty brown eyes stare into your soul, "well it was nice seeing you. I better run."

"Wait," he calls as you turn to leave, catching your wrist in his hand, “before you go. I'd really like to catch up for coffee sometime."

"I don't know Billy."

"Please, it'll be fun. Can’t we just- It’s just coffee. It’s been what? 5 years?” 7 years, 6 months, 1 week and 3 days. “I’d love to hear what you’ve been up to.”

"One coffee." You give in so easily like you always have, scribbling your number down on one of Jimmy's business cards and handing it to Billy, "in case you deleted my number."

"I didn't."

"Just let me know when you're free."

XXx

"Hey,” Billy smiles as you answer on the fourth ring, “just wanted to see if you were free tomorrow?" Billy says as you answer the call and when you stay silent he keeps talking, "if you're not, that’s cool. We can catch up another time."

"I ah-"

"What's wrong?" He says, instantly recognising your tone. The tone that says you’re angry, but you don’t want to show it. Billy knows you're with him, he saw James. He watched the both of you go up the evaluator ten minutes ago. 

"Now isn’t a good time." you stutter out, hanging up the call. 

Billy picks up his glass, swirling it as he leans onto the large window of his apartment. He spots you in a second. Your hand on your hip while James turns away from you. Billy sips at his whiskey as you pace your apartment. James follows you, his arms flying around wildly. You spin on your heel, as Billy clicks open his phone, easily selecting your number and calling again under the guise of concern.

He knows the moment your phone starts ringing and you flip it over on the counter. James looks like he's yelling now. When the call rings out, Billy flicks open a message as you sit down in what looks like a huff.

Hi, you seemed upset. Hope everything is ok.

James is still swanning about, flapping his arms about as you sit on the sofa. Billy smiles, it took a lot of work to get you an apartment directly opposite his. It was worth every penny to get to see you argue with the man you up tried to replace him with. Like you could ever replace him, he sure as shit had a hard time trying to replace you.

Billy smirks as the theatrics of the rest of the argument unfolds, the scotch in his hand empty as your boyfriend starts to throw clothes into a bag. You follow him, trying desperately to get James’ attention. He should have put mics in your apartment, so he could listen to this man tell you how insecure he is, how he knows he’ll never compare to the love you shared, tell you he knows how much better you’d be without him and how it eats away at him. 

You’re crying, Billy hates it, but it needs to be done. He pours another drink as the idiot finally leaves with his bag. Billy waits. Waiting for the call that he knows is coming. Who else could you call? You don’t know anyone else in the city, there's only one person in this city of millions who knows you well enough to make you feel safe. So, he waits. Waits for the call that he knows is coming.

It only takes 2 hours. He’s been watching you, you cried into the couch for 30 minutes before grabbing a bottle of wine and slipping into the bedroom. He resists the urge to go to you, to wrap his arms around you and dry those pretty tears. An hour later you reappear with a tub of ice-cream and lay down on the couch. He’s on his third glass of whiskey, when his phone starts to vibrate. He waits a moment, setting his glass down before reclining and reading the text.

Kitten: Billy, are you free now? 

Billy: I am. Is everything alright? You seemed upset

Kitten: Fine, just have some time to kill.

Billy: Do you know Cool Beans? It’s on the corner of-

Kitten: yeah, The red brick place? I know it. Can we meet in 30?

Billy: I’ll see you there. 

Billy arrives a few seconds after you, following you down the street will do that. He watched you, your shoulders hunched over, your pace quicker than he thought it would be. You must be desperate to see him. Good. 

He enters the cafe, immediately spotting you sitting at a table near the back wall. You look so beautiful in those yoga pants, your pretty hair tied up in a bun. He only sees that your face is still fresh from where you tried to wash the tears away, when you lift it from your hands.

"Didn't mean to be late,” Billy lies as he approaches your table, "got caught up with a work thing.” his face changes to concern as he gets closer and he can see the red in your eyes. “Are you okay? You look like you’ve been crying?”

"Yeah,” you rub your eyes and smile up at him, “I only just got here."

Billy spends the next hour asking you a million questions, like he doesn’t already know. Sure, he doesn’t need you to tell him, but he loves to hear you talk and the way you tell your story. He loves how talking distracts you and you start to smile. 

You’re on your second cup of coffee and your third piece of cake when you let out a sigh. Small tears run down your cheek as Billy reaches out to hold your hand. “You can tell me, maybe I can help?” he tries to comfort you, without reaching too far too fast.

Resting your head in your hand you look up at him. Whispering about how your boyfriend decided to go on a fishing trip with his friends suddenly. How you thought you’d be spending the weekend together and now you’ve been left in a city you don’t know by yourself. You leave out some of the hurtful things James said to you, brushing them aside as you squeeze on Billy's hand. You really want to talk to him, to sort this out, but he’s screening your calls and all because you had a call from an old friend. You confess all this to him and he just stares at you, his eyes sympathetic and you feel like you’ve crossed a line. “Sorry, you just wanted a coffee and I’ve dropped all this on you.” you start to pull your hand away, but Billy gives you a tight squeeze.

"Why don't you come hang out with me? I don’t live far from here."

"I don't know. I’m sure I’ve already ruined your day.”

“Don’t be silly. It'll be fun. We can watch legally blonde and eat junk food.”

“You promise?” you wipe the tears from your cheek, “I feel like I just lumped all my problems on you and now you’re just trying to make me feel better.”

“I am. I just thought you might wanna see a friendly face,” he pauses, standing up and grabbing your coat, “maybe not be alone.”

“I really don’t want to be a burden.”

“You could never burden me.” Billy helps you slip on your coat, and when you duck away from him he steps in front of you, “I mean it. Never.”

“Thanks,” you give him such a tiny smile.

“I’m just down the street.”

“Alright, lead the way.” you agree, thoughts of sitting alone in your apartment looking over everything. Replaying the fight over and over again/ Wondering where James could actually be, is he going to come back? This is exactly what you need, a distraction and if the distraction happens to be a tall, handsome, expensive suit wearing old friend, who are you to complain? Maybe today is just the luckiest unlucky day ever.

You walk together, your shoulders brushing as you make your way down the busy street. Billy walks you in a circle, around several unnecessary buildings hoping that you don't notice that his apartment building is opposite yours. But as you approach the glass towers you point out your new place on the other side of the road. 

“Weird, what are the chances,” you ponder, thinking it must be fate that Billy lives just across the way from you. Maybe moving to the city was the universe's way of telling you things are looking up. Billy’s changed so much since the last time you saw him on that cold winter night. He’s grown, seems more mature, more at ease in his own skin. But the way he looks at you, the feelings that swim still inside your heart, maybe this wasn’t a good idea. You glance over at him and he’s still smiling at you, in that soft, warm way that calls to you.

“Yeah, that is weird. Small worlds huh?”

“Mm, must be.” You shrug, following him up to the elevator.

When you make it to his apartment Billy tries not to be smug about how much bigger it is than yours. About how his huge windows have a clear view of the city and how you're already taking off your coat and making yourself at home.

“Do you want a drink?”

“Yeah that'd be nice. Do you gave any-”

“Prosecco? I think I have a bottle here somewhere,” He opens the fridge with 3 bottles in it, ready and waiting for you.

“Thanks,” taking the glass he offers you. You relax into the large sofa, resting your drink on your knee. 

“So you had a fight and he left huh?” Billy asks, sitting down next to you. A drink in his hand as his arm spreads out behind you on the couch, “Seems a bit extreme.” 

“Basically. I can't believe he'd be so jealous.” You huff, taking a sip of your wine, “we haven't seen each other in years. And he just- I don’t get it. That he could think-” you roll your eyes, trying not to see the way Billy is looking at you.

“I wouldn't have called if I knew it was going to be a problem for you.” he gives your shoulder a squeeze, “You should’ve just said.” like he would’ve listened, like he wouldn’t have tried again and again.

“I know, he's just being irrational. Hopefully he'll come around.” you shuffle, adjusting yourself on the couch and resting your head on Billy's shoulder. It feels nice, safe. Like for the first time in hours you can breathe again.

“He's an idiot if he doesn't,” he moves to wipe away a tear that's falling down your cheek, “he'd be an idiot to lose you.”

“What does that make you?” you ask, peering up at him, forgetting just how close your faces are with your head resting on his shoulder.

“Biggest idiot ever,” his sincerity beaming into you, “or luckiest man alive, to run into you in that store. Take your pick.”

“Billy.”

“Kitten.”

“Haven’t heard that in a very long time,” the mention of your old nickname sends a shiver down your spine and the blood pumping into your veins like it always did when he called you that.

“Haven't said it in a long time either.” his hand brushes along your cheek, “I missed you, Kitten.”

“Billy.”

“Do you want to watch the movie?” he asks, so softly his fingers gently stroking over your cheekbones, “I can move, if it makes you more comfortable.” he doesn’t want to, doesn't want to ever let you go now that he’s finally got his hands on you. "Or you can yell and scream at me," he suggests, "like old times. “Take some of that anger out on me." He hopes you take the bait, desperately wants you too. But this is important, you need to choose this. Even if he had made getting you to this choice possible. 

“Is that what you want?" you ask, pulling your head back.

"What I want? I told you already, all I want is for you to be happy."

"Oh." You stand, hands on your hips, "how could that possibly be true?" You turn from him as you start to walk away, "I know that's a lie."

"It's not a lie, Kitten."

"It fucking is." You spin, your eyes glaring daggers into him. Fuck, you're beautiful, "you want me to be happy?" You stomp, "I was happy. Once. A long time ago." You shout, stamping towards him with your finger pointed at him. So pretty when you're angry. "You were the person who took that away from me."

"I miss you."

"You miss me?" You slap at his chest, "it's your fault you don't have me!"

"I need you."

"The only thing you ever needed in your life was violence. You never needed me!" You feel the fury in your hands start to shake as Billy lets you slap at him.

"I always needed you," he stops your hands holding them close to his heart, "I needed you so badly it scared the shit outa me."

"So you ran." You pull your hands free, glaring up at him with such defiance in those pretty eyes.

"I did." He reaches out for you, but you step back, "not my finest moment. Probably the stupidest thing I ever did."

"So what now, Billy? We’re just meant to be friends?" You throw your hands up in the air, "pretend like whatever we had is gone?"

"Don't look at me like that."

"Like what William?"

"Don't."

"What William? Tell me I'm wrong."

"I think we’re getting too heated. We just need to take a breath." He hopes you take the bait, that you see his lie for what it is. So he turns away, " you don't mean that."

"This conversation is not over, William." He can hear you stomping towards him, "don't you fucking turn away from me again." You shout grabbing him by wrist and slapping in his face when he turns back to you.

"You feel better now?"

"No. You asshole. I don't feel better!" You attempt to slap him again, but he catches your hand in his.

"Stop."

"Fuck you."

"Yeah, fuck me. I'm an asshole." He stares down at you, watching your eyes as he releases your hand. "What are you going to do about it?" His eyes trace over your tongue as it slips over your lips.

"William." Your hand wraps onto his collar pulling his lips to yours and you melt into his kiss. Shit, did he always taste this sweet? Yeah, he did. But with the tang over whiskey on his tongue you may become addicted. His hands slip into your hair, holding your face so close as you cling to him. His heart soars as your body presses into him, his hands unable to control the way they roam over your body.

You can’t stop kissing, neither of you saying anything as you rush to undress each other as he guides you both towards his bedroom.

You fall back onto the bed together, both panting from the lack of air. "Are you sure about this Kitten?" He asks you, he needs to know. He craves it, the knowledge that you want him just as badly as he wants you.

"Is It wrong to want this?" You ask, your hand already travelling down his torso towards his cock, "that I missed it?"

"You miss me too or just my dick?"

"I missed all of you."

"Are you worried he will find out?”

“I hadn’t even-” he cuts off your train of thought.

“We keep this between us." He slows down the pace of your hand, gently pressing kisses into your neck, "I won't tell a soul, just tell me you want me."

"I want you." That's all he needs to hear as he grabs your legs wrapping around your waist as he leans down over you.

“Tell me again.”

“I want you, Billy.”

"Fuck, you’re so wet already."

"I am"

"For me?"

"Yes, Billy."

"Good girl, now open up for me." He says as his cock prodding at your pussy, itching to get inside. He swipes it up and down, gathering your wetness on his cock, "let me in, kitten." He moans as he reaches the end of you.

He kisses you fiercely, the feeling of coming home overwhelms him as he thrusts into you. His hands gripping tight at your hips, his chest weighing down on your as your fingers roam over his back. 

"I missed you," he breaks the kiss, his nose bumping yours as he stares down in your eyes, "did you miss this?"

"Missed you, so much." You moan in reply, your nails digging into his back. You need him closer, need his hands all over you and his marks on your pretty skin and his name on your lips.

"You're so fucking beautiful."

"Billy, you-" you pant his cock grinds into you, brushing against your g spot.

"That's it. Clamp down on me, Kitten." His hands slip up from your thighs, grabbing a better hold at your waist so he can pound his cock into you, "Shit, you feel too good. I need to- slow."

But you're so close, you can't slow down. You grind your hips into him, feeling the head of his cock flexing inside you and making your legs start to twitch, "you're getting close"

"Please don't stop, Billy."

"I won't."  He moves you, grabbing hold of your waists and pulling you up onto his lap. "I got you." His strong arms lift you, fucking you onto his cock, your head barely hanging on as your clit starts to brush against his lean torso. 

Your arms wrap around his shoulders, your fingers in his hair, pulling his head back from your tits and making him look up at you, "I missed you."

"I love you." He admits as his fingers bite into your side, "I love you." You free his hair and his face slides into your tits, exhaling into the soft flesh, biting and pinching with his mouth.

"You-" you try to breathe, "you can't mark me Billy."

"Say that you love me." He moves to the other breast swirling your nip in his mouth, his eyes not leaving yours.

"You can't- he'll"

"Mean it."

You grab at his hair again, pulling him off you as your hand connects with his face, "I love you."

"Do it again."

"I love you." You slap him again, this time following it up with a kiss as his hands slip up your back and cradles you close to him. 

"My Kitten." He sinks you back into the mattress, his whole body towering over you as he moves faster and more desperately. "Fucking perfect Kitten." His cock is so deep inside you when he starts to grind down into you, "cum for me." He keeps it in, the grinding sends your legs wild as your back arches underneath him, "what a pretty girl," he whispers as his lip brush over yours, "cum Kitten." He grips at your thighs, holding your pussy over his cock when you try to squirm away, "cum for me."

You moan his name, along with a garbled cry that sounds like a chicken let loose as your back arches all the way off the bed, your tits push into his chest and your eyes start to cross.

"Keep cumming Kitten," Billy's cock throbs inside of you and the wave still going, "fuck I'm so close." He pulls out just a little, before plunging back in, "where do you want it?"

"Insi-" you try to say as another wave of pleasure washes over you.

"Kitten," he smiles, as his own pleasure is reaching its peak, "you want to take my cum inside you?"

"Yes."

"You want me to fill you up?".

"Please Billy."

"Good girl." He starts to shake, his eyes open wide as he watches you still riding out your own pleasure, "I love you." He screams as he floods your insides with his cum. 

He doesn't stop and within seconds you feel a third wave washing over you and your whole body starts to twitch as your mind goes numb, "I love you." You whisper ,your words hoarse and breathless as you start to gently comb your fingers through his hair.

"Kitten," he whispers into your shoulder as his whole body drops on to you, "you ok?"

"Great, beyond great."

"Not angry anymore?"

"No." 

"Good, I'm going to roll us. You ready?" You give him a small nod and Billy rolls you on top of him. His fingers dance along your spine as you rest on his chest. "I'll grab you some water in a minute. I just wanna hold you a bit longer."

"Mm, this is nice." You start to pepper kisses on his chest, "I missed this the most."

"The angry fight sex?" He laughs, brushing your hair from your face when you look up at him.

"No, the cuddles after." You reach up and boop his nose, "you're always so sweet after."

"How could I ever stay mad at you when you take me so well? My pretty Kitten." He holds you tighter, like if he doesn't you're going to drift away again. “And then you smile at me like that.”

"See, sweet."

"Only for you."

"Hmm," you ponder, still wrapped up in your afterglow, "no one ever loved me the way you do." you whisper the throw away thought.

"They couldn't.” he gives you a tiny kiss on your hand,  “Noone else appreciated how spectacular you are."

"I'm not, I-".

"You are the most incredible person I've ever met. And I never knew what you wanted with me or what I did to deserve you, but I know that my life is not right without you in it. In whatever way I can have you."

"Billy what are we going to do about-" he cuts you off with a kiss.

"Don't." He pleads, "not while I'm still inside you. This is all I need," he gives you a squeeze, "to know that you're mine, that you love me too."

"I'm not yours." 

"You have always been mine, Kitten."

[lizard-on-a-window-pane]

Moody Moony

pairing: Remus Lupin x reader

summary: Remus’s temper is short because the full moon is approaching. You, his girlfriend, want to be there for him. He’s a bit of an ass, but you make up, and then you really make up. 

tags / warnings: established relationship, Remus being bitchy, but then making up for it because he’s really a sweetheart, minor injury, fluff, fem!reader, sex, eating out, fingering, p in v, NSFW (minors do not interact!)

notes: The Mandrake leaf thing is a reference to the process you need to go through to become an Animagus 🦌🐾🐀

word count: 3.4k (like 1/3 is smut)

“I wouldn’t go in there if I were you. It’s his time of the month again,” James said stepping out of his dorm, eyes wide, an exasperated look on his face. As if you weren’t already exceedingly aware of the lunar cycle and the effects it was probably having on your boyfriend right about now. Hence your current mission of bringing him a cup of tea and maybe just a little bit of relief. “Very supportive,” you said sarcastically. “Oi, I kept a bloody Mandrake leaf in my mouth for a month, same as you, so don’t get cheeky with me because I occasionally want to steer clear when he’s Moody Moony.”

“Fair enough. Sorry, Prongsie.” He rolled his eyes at you playfully and bumped your should with his in a sweet encouraging gesture as he stepped past you to make his way down to the common room. You took a breath and made your way into the dorm.

Remus was sitting up in his bed, hair an even worse mess than usual from how his hands had no doubt been running through it incessantly. One of his hands was still entangled in his soft brown locks, his elbow resting on his knee, which was bouncing up and down with his excessive energy. You couldn’t help your thought: he looked good. Really good. But that’s not what you were here for. You were here for him. He looked up at you as you entered, and you gave him the warmest smile you could muster. 

“Hey, baby. Watcha up to?” you asked, closing the door behind you. 

“Potions essay due tomorrow. Can’t seem to fucking focus on it, though.”

“Can I help?” “I didn’t say I didn’t understand it; I just can’t focus right now,” he shot back, a bit harshly. 

“Yeah, no, I know. I know you know it, Moons; I was just thinking maybe you could talk me through what you’re writing or something to keep your head in it.”

“It’s fine, love. Thanks for the offer, though.” He was gentler now, aware of his short fuse and genuinely grateful at how well you put up with him month after month. His eyes raked down your body slowly, lingering on your exposed thighs still clad in your uniform skirt, finally landing on your hands, a small mug in each.

“I brought you some tea,” you said sweetly, bringing it over to his bedside table.

“Thanks, y/n. Really.”

You smiled in response. “Can I sit with you a while? I can do my own work and let you focus.” “Yeah, ‘course.” He gave you a tight-lipped smile. It didn’t quite reach his eyes, and it always pained you seeing him like this, all pent up. 

You tried to keep up your smile and went to sit at the corner of his bed, borrowing a Charms book one of the boys had left lying around and turning to a spell that had been giving you trouble in class the previous week. You worked like this for a while, his quill scratching the parchment in angry flurries, you muttering the incantation over and over again. 

“Do you think maybe you can practice something else? Or maybe like read or work on an assignment or something?” Remus asked. “Right. Sorry. The repetition is a bit annoying, huh?” You tried to sound light-hearted, but your cheeks were burning. You knew it was his wolfy hormones, but still, his being short with you was hard, and you couldn’t help but be embarrassed at having annoyed your boyfriend, who was usually so happy to have you around, which he never failed to express. 

Remus just gave you that same tight-lipped smile in response and looked back down toward his parchment. 

You reached over for one of his muggle novels you’d been meaning to borrow from the stack on his bedside table, taking a sip of tea while you were at it. You leafed through the book, reading the first few pages, but decided you probably weren’t going to get very into it right this moment. As you made to put it back, though, you accidentally knocked the tea over, and it spilled all over Remus’s books. The cup fell to the ground and shattered. “Bloody hell, y/n, fuck! I’m already on edge without you scaring the shit out of me! Is this your way of letting me focus?”

“I’m sorry! I’m so sorry!” you spat out, talking over him and desperately trying to move the rest of the books away from the encroaching liquid. “I didn’t mean to.”

“I’ve never understood why people say that. ‘I didn’t mean to’ or ‘It was an accident.’ Obviously you didn’t mean to, but that doesn’t make it any less annoying.”

You cringed at this, unused to Remus being nasty with you, conflicted between the sadness it welled up in you and the anger it was starting to cause. You weren’t sure how much you should take before you said something, always wanting to be kind with him, but not wanting to let that sacrifice your being kind with yourself, which, if you were honest with yourself, you knew you were less good at. You had always been more of a giver.

You tried to ignore him, missing the immediate expression of regret that crossed his features at his harshness, and bent down to pick up the shattered mug. 

Distracted with the efforts to keep yourself from crying, you were careless in your cleaning and cut your hand on a particularly sharp shard of porcelain. 

“Ow! fuck,” you breathed out. 

“y/n? Shit. You okay?” Remus rushed off his bed down to where you knelt on the floor. He took your cut hand in his. “C’mere.” He ushered you over onto the bed with him, reaching for a t-shirt and putting pressure on where your hand was bleeding. “Shit, sweetheart.”

“Ouch.” “Sorry. Don’t want it to bleed too much.” 

“S’okay, just hurts.” “I know, sorry. Here let me see if I can fix it; you know I’m no good at healing spells.” He reached for his wand, pointed it at your cut, and said, “Episkey.” It wasn’t completely healed, but it was definitely better. “Thanks,” you said, taking your hand back from him, looking down at the floor. 

“Hey…” You ignored him.

“Hey, y/n, look at me, please.” His voice was gentle, apologetic, and he reached out to grab your hand again. You let him. 

“Hey, sweetheart, I’m really sorry. I didn’t mean it.” “Doesn’t make it any less annoying,” you quoted back to him. 

He giggled, the short laugh still tinged in sadness. “Fair enough, clever girl. That’s why I love you. Always so smart. Funny too. Smarter than me, that’s for sure. Kinder too…” Remus paused, stroking your hand as he held it. “You’re right to be mad at me. I really am sorry, though… I know it’s no excuse, but you know the full moon is this weekend. I’ve been feeling like I’m going mad all day. Like I have all this energy and can’t focus on anything and get mad at every little thing.”

“Yeah…” A beat. “Stay here.” You jumped up and out of the room, leaving a very confused Remus looking toward the door as it closed behind you.

You sprinted over to your own dorm, grabbed your secret weapon, and made your way back to his. 

When you came back in, Remus was up and pacing back and forth quickly. He looked up at you. “What the fuck, y/n?” he questioned light-heartedly. “What was that? I was worried you were so angry you didn’t want me to go after you when you left my grumpy arse.” 

You let out a half laugh half scoff. “Sorry, drama queen. I had to go get something.” “Oh? just now? Couldn’t wait? Couldn’t say ‘be right back’ or something either?” He tried to sound upset, but he was smiling through his whole bit, the sight of that smile lightening your heart immediately. “Oh, relax, you big wolfy baby. I’m back now, and I have a surprise.” You pulled the bar of chocolate — his favorite kind — from behind your back. “I was saving it for after. You know, when you’re hurting and exhausted… but I figured it was urgent enough now.” “I don’t deserve you.” “Hm,” you considered jokingly, “probably not, Mr. Lupin. And I will be taking a square of this in repayment.” You hopped back onto the bed, sitting cross-legged and opening the chocolate. You put a piece between your teeth, and with it still in place there, you asked, “Want some?” 

“You’re ridiculous, you know that?” He was beaming at you. “Yes, I do,” came out muffled through the chocolate. “And you love it.”

“Yes. Yes, I do.” He jumped to join you on the bed, kneeling in front of you and leaning down to place an arm on either side of your thighs, caging you in. Moving very slowly, he brought his face extremely close to yours. You could see your own reflection in his lovely brown eyes as they looked between yours. He pecked your nose then grinned. “But not as much as I love chocolate.” Before you could react, dazed as you were by his proximity and his smile and his stupid gorgeous face, he stole the piece of chocolate from your mouth with his own, laughing all the while. 

You let out an indignant scoff, smacking his shoulder, pushing him back a bit but staying close to his body. 

“Yes, well, I can believe it. You’re never mean to chocolate, even when you’re in Moody Moony mode.” “Moody Moony?? How long has that been a thing? Did Sirius come up with that? Oh, Merlin, it was James, wasn’t it? It’s always the nice ones you have to watch out for.”

“Sorry, baby, my lips are sealed,” you smirked.

“Yes, well, they’re also still covered in chocolate.”

“Oh, are they?” You puckered them and made a show of trying to look down at them, crossing your eyes. His laughter was music to your ears. You stuck your tongue out, licking your lips as lewdly as you could manage given you were holding back from laughing too. “Mm… looks delicious.” Remus’s voice had gone down what sounded like a full octave, and you could see a lot less honey brown where his pupils had dilated.

He stuck his tongue out and give your lips a soft, long, lingering lick. “Hey, Rem,” you whispered, your voice only audible to him due to your closeness.

“Yeah, sweetheart?” 

“You still have all that extra energy? Maybe I can help after all…” Remus chucked as he leaned forward again, splaying his large hand across your chest, using it to push you down until you lay on your back on his bed. 

He lay on top of you, your legs entangled, your chests flush, your faces a whisper away from each other.

After a beat of heavy silence, he ate the space and kissed you ardently. Remus could be gentle, and you loved that about him. But especially when the full moon was approaching, he could be anything but, and you loved that about him too. 

He shoved his tongue into your eager mouth, and you sucked on it, eliciting a groan from the man above you. 

Still wanting to get him back just a little bit from his earlier temper, you pushed him up forcefully, stopping the kiss and saying, “Wait, wait.” “What? What’s wrong? You alright?” His face searched yours, and your heart melted at his concern, his constant care no matter how much he wanted you. 

“What about your Potions essay? Isn’t it due tomorrow? This is very irresponsible!” “Hilarious, y/n. Fuck Potions, love.” He kissed you again, hungry for it. “Or, actually, let me fuck you first,” he said as he kissed and sucked down your jawline and into your neck. You wrapped your arms around him, and his hand grabbed your thigh and brought it up against his hip. He was rutting into you, already hard, and when you pulled his hair, he groaned again, slipped both hands under your ass and sat up, lifting you with him easily so that you ended up sitting on his lap, straddling him where he knelt on the bed. 

“Off.” He pulled on your shirt, sucked on your neck. “Now.”

You heeded him, opening only enough buttons to then pull your shirt over your head in a rush. He leaned back for a moment to take in your tits appreciatively. He took them in his strong hands and squeezed roughly, kneading them as he moved his open-mouthed kisses down your sternum until his face was level with your breasts. Not bothering to unclasp your bra, he yanked the cups down and bit down on the soft flesh he’d revealed. You squealed in surprise, pleasure coursing through you. He moved his mouth to your nipple and sucked hard, playing and pulling on the other with his adept fingers. 

“Remus,” you hissed. 

He moaned into your chest. His tongue circled your hardened nipple wetly then moved to give the same attentions to the other. His hands slid down your sides, grabbing fistfuls of you as they went, landing on your ass and giving a firm squeeze. 

“Hands and knees, gorgeous.” He threw you down and admired the view of your tits bouncing as you landed on your back. You flipped over and hadn’t even settled onto your knees yet when you felt his hands pulling your panties down your thighs. He flipped your skirt up, and you pushed your bare ass up into air, arching your back and wiggling it a little for his benefit. “Fuuuck, y/n.” His hands bruisingly gripped your ass cheeks, pulling them apart and shaking them. “You know the one thing more delicious than chocolate?” Before you could reply, jokingly or otherwise, his tongue ran up from your clit to your entrance unceremoniously before pushing in abruptly. Remus started fucking you with his tongue, nuzzling his whole face into you all the while. 

You reached behind you, entangling your hand in his hair, not needing to pull him into you from how feverishly he was already doing so on his own. Your moans grew louder and louder as you began rocking back and forth into his face, and you let out a strangled scream as his fingers slapped your clit then began rubbing it with the exact pressure you wanted, his ability to read your body always astounding. 

After a good while of eating you like this, he pulled his head back, but you had no time to be disappointed as he immediately plunged two fingers into your dripping pussy, setting a brutal pace from the first thrust.

“Holy shit. You’re so wet I don’t even have to stretch you out, love,” he said, amused, as he slipped in a third finger and kept his pace. The resulting squelching sound was ungodly. His other hand rubbing your clit starting working faster, his circles tighter. “I can feel you clenching my fingers, it’s so fucking hot, you gonna cum for me, baby?” 

You nodded as best you could given your face was shoved down into the sheets. Your thighs started shaking, and seconds later, you were cumming hard. Remus’s hands kept at it to prolong your pleasure as long as possible, but as soon as the aftershocks felt more painful than pleasurable, you clenched and squealed, and he stopped. Amidst the ringing in your ears from the intensity of your orgasm, you heard the unmistakable sound of unzipping. His rock-hard cock was at your entrance before you could recover, sliding along your soaked folds, but he still asked, “Alright, love?” before pushing in.

“Yeah, Rem, please,” you said, and before the end of that third short word, he was pushing in to the hilt, an elongated strangled “ah” leaving his lips as he bottomed out. 

“You feel fucking sublime, y/n.” Leave it to him to still use nice words while fucked out. “Pulling me in like you can’t live without my cock.” 

His hand gripping your hip tightened, and he placed the other on your shoulder, holding you firmly in place as he pounded into you, hard but slow. 

“You gotta tell me if it hurts, okay? I’ll stop right away if it’s too much.” “I know. I’ll tell you. I’m good; it feels so good, Rem, so so good.”

With that confirmation, he quickened, his hips pistonning at a pace you only ever got when the lunar cycle affected him like this, made him feral for you. 

He leaned down over you, not slowing down, so that his body covered yours, his hot breath on your neck. He bit your shoulder and moaned. He continued for long, incredible minutes that made you wonder how entire days of life could drag on without a hint of this intensity. 

Remus was sucking on your neck when you felt his breath start to catch. His hand on your hip snaked around to rub your clit, and your body jerked at the sensation. He held you tight as he increased the pressure, chanting, “Cum with me, cum with me, cum with me,” through labored breathing. 

You did. And if your first orgasm was overwhelming, this one was completely devastating in the best possible way. As you clenched around him, Remus groaned animalistically, and his hips struggled to stutter through his climax. You felt the heat of his cum filling you up, and you could already feel it dripping down your thighs before he was even done pumping more into you.

His body collapsed on top of you. His heavy breathing had his chest pushing into your back with every breath, and the weight and pressure of him were comforting. You reached behind you to scratch his scalp and caress his cheek, and he giggled as he kissed gently along your shoulder. 

When his breathing finally evened out, he pulled out and lay next to you. It was cold without his body, yours covered in sweat. You curled up into him, smacking his chest as you said, “Warm me up. You’re like a bloody space heater.”

He chuckled but pulled you tighter running his hands along your back and wrapping your legs in his to share his heat. He kissed your forehead and nuzzled into your hair. 

You lay like this for a while, caressing one another other and basking in the bliss of each other and the aftereffects of mind-shattering orgasms. 

He brought your hand up to his lips and kissed along the cut you had already forgotten about. 

“I’m so sorry, lovely girl… I don’t know how you put up with me half the time.” “It’s not half the time… only about a fourth of it,” you joked, but he grunted in response, smiling but still solemn. “I love you, Moony.” He looked into your eyes and ran his nose along yours. “I don’t deserve it,” he whispered for the second time tonight, this time seriously.

“I love you, Remus,” you repeated, more ardently this time. “All of you. Every bit, every day, no matter what.” You stroked his cheek with your thumb, lingering on a salient scar. “‘Deserve’ has very little to do with it, but even still, if it did, you’d deserve the whole world, my love.” 

He kissed you sweetly. “Thank you, y/n.” Another kiss. “I love you completely. More than the whole world. The world’s got nothing on you, darling.” You smiled.

“Even when I spill tea all over your books?” “Even then. Besides, the tea stains give them a nice look, don’t you think?” He looked over at his still messy bedside table. “Very cosy and worn… And seriously, y/n, it’s like you forget you’re a witch sometimes,” he laughed. He reached for his wand, his other arm still wrapped around you, pointed it at the floor and stated, “Reparo.” The mug fixed itself in an instant. “Show-off,” you muttered. He chuckled, settling next to you again and giving your forehead another kiss. 

[wzrd-wheezes]

Star Boy : Part One- Footballer!James x Reader

AN - I've been dying to write a footballer!james fic and have only just gotten around to it. I think I'm going to make this a series so please let me know if you would be interested in that!

1.5k words - fluff

Taking penalties was James Potter’s speciality. It had always been his thing. From the moment he started playing football, he had always found something exhilarating in the otherwise nerve-wracking challenge. Maybe it was something about the high stakes, the way that the fate of the team’s success was in his hands, the rush of adrenaline when he scored, and the way his teammates would swarm around him, limbs flailing in celebration, the roar of the crowd echoing in his ears. 

James could count the number of missed penalties on one hand. He was renowned in the footballing world as some sort of wunderkind, achieving extraordinary success at a remarkably young age. 

Today, for the first time in two seasons, James missed a penalty. After a particularly nasty foul on one of his teammates, James had dashed to the sideline to retrieve the ball. As he bent down to pick it up from the bright-eyed, fluffy-haired ball boy, his gaze landed on her for the first time. She was seated a few rows from the front, a blue and white football scarf draped around her neck, her teeth biting anxiously on her bottom lip as she awaited the penalty. James didn’t think he had ever seen anyone more beautiful. He ruffled the ball boy’s hair in thanks, but as he turned away, his eyes locked with the girl in the stands, and he felt his stomach jolt. What the fuck was wrong with him? 

“You’ve got this, Star Boy.” On of his teammates slapped him on the back as he approached the penalty area. He rolled the ball over in his hands a few times before dropping it on the penalty spot. He glanced upwards, the opposing team’s goalkeeper was jumping up and down in the goal, a classic distraction tactic. His eyes drifted momentarily to the stand where he had just walked from, surprising himself at how quickly he picked that girl out of the crowd. She, like the rest of the fans, was now standing, her hands clasped tightly in front of her. God, she was pretty. 

“Focus.” he whispered to himself.  

James began his run-up, his eyes shifting back to the ball. But the image of her anxious, beautiful face lingered in his mind. Just as his foot connected with the ball, his concentration wavered. The shot was off. 

Time seemed to slow as the ball sailed towards the goal. The goalkeeper dove the wrong way, but the ball didn’t head for the corner of the net as it usually would. Instead, it skimmed outside of the post and went wide.  

A collective gasp erupted from the crowd, followed by a groan of disappointment. The away fans cheered and celebrated his miss. James stood frozen, staring at the spot where the ball had missed its mark. He cursed loudly, his hands flying up to rake through his hair in frustration. He never missed. 

He turned to look at her again. She had her hands over her mouth, eyes wide with shock. His stomach sank. For the first time in his career, he had let a moment get to him, and it had cost him- and his team- dearly.  

There was only around ten minutes or so of the match left and his team were desperately trying to get another goal to put them ahead. The whole time, all James could think about was how he had fumbled the penalty and how disappointed the girl had looked. How was he making himself feel bad over a girl that he didn’t even know?  

As the minutes ticked away, James pushed himself harder, trying to shake off the nagging thoughts and focus on the game. His teammates were counting on him and he couldn’t afford to let them down again.  

The referee’s whistle finally signalled the end of the match and a wave of frustration and disappointment washed over him. The game had ended in a draw and James couldn’t help but feel responsible.  

In the changing room, the usual post-match chatter was subdued. His teammates offered him pats on the back and words of encouragement, but James could barely muster a response. All he could think about was the penalty, the girl, and the look on her face. 

“C’mon, Jamie. We still ended up with a draw.” Ryan Bennet, one of their defenders, sat next to him, “We earned a point, and let’s not forget, you still hold the record for most penalty goals in the league,” he added with a grin. 

“Cheers, Benno.” James smiled, “You always know how to boost my ego.” 

“Yeah, well. Don’t get used to it.” Ryan laughed and clapped James on the shoulder before heading to the showers.  

Once he had showered, he quickly changed and made his way to the player’s car park. Outside, the cool evening air greeted him as he made his way to his car, a sleek black Range Rover that gleamed under the stadium lights. Beyond the gate, James could see fans eagerly lining the pathway, eager for a chance to catch a glimpse of their favourite platers.  

Driving out of the carpark, the fans approached his car, holding out shirts and pictures in hope that he would sign them. Slowing his car down, he wound down his window and greeted the fans with a smile. Despite the exhaustion that tugged at his muscles and the lingering disappointment of the missed penalty, James’s heart buzzed with gratitude towards the fans that had come out to support him. He always gave the fans his time if he could, especially the kids. After all, he was one of them once, spending hours outside Moonridge United’s stadium after a match, waiting for the chance to meet his heroes. 

He was a few photographs in when he spotted her. The girl from Cresent End, standing a few people back from his car with a beaming younger boy by her side. Her presence caught him off guard, a pleasant surprise amidst the flurry of fans seeking his attention. When it was their turn, the younger boy bounded over to his car. 

“Hey there, buddy!” James greeted him with enthusiasm.  

“Wow, it’s really you!” the boy exclaimed, his voice filled with awe, “You’re James Potter! I’m your biggest fan.” 

“Ah, thank you, mate!” he smiled, “I hope you enjoyed the game. I’m sorry that we didn’t manage to win.” 

“Would you please be able to sign my shirt?” the boy spun round, revealing the back of his football shirt which had “Potter 10” written on the back.  

“It would be a pleasure.” James leaned out of the car, carefully signing his name on the number 10. As soon as he had finished signing it, the boy shouted a quick thank you and ran off towards a big group of boys, proudly showing off his shirt. 

“This really means a lot to him.” the girl spoke. James’s heart raced, his eyes focusing on her, “He’s been looking forward to the match all week, bless him. You’re his favourite player.” 

“I’m honoured.” he replied, his tone playful, “And what about you? Who’s your favourite player?” 

The girl turned around, showing the back of her shirt which had “Bennett 30” on the back of it. Ryan, that bastard. 

“Well, it looks like I have some competition.” James laughed. 

“Competition is good for the soul, isn’t it?” she replied, her tone teasing. 

“So, I’ve heard." 

The girl laughed and James’s heart melted. God, she looked gorgeous when she laughed. Her eyes crinkled at the corners and her lips curved into a radiant smile that lit up her whole face.  

“Hey, can I let you in on a secret?” James whispered, glancing around to see if there was anyone lurking around. 

“Go ahead.” 

“You’re the reason that I missed that penalty.” 

The girl’s eyes widened in surprise at James’s confession, her cheeks heating up with a mixture of astonishment and curiosity.  

“Me? You’re joking, right?” 

James chuckled, shaking his head, “I wish I was. I saw you in the stands and I thought you looked beautiful. I guess you got me a little distracted.” 

She let out a laugh in disbelief, “Are you sure you’re not just saying that to flatter me?” she mused, “Though I suppose I owe you an apology.” 

“I wish I was that smooth.” James grinned, “You can make it up to me by giving me your number and letting me take you out to dinner?” 

“Hmm, tempting offer.” she teased, tapping her chin in mock contemplation, “I reckon it’s the least I could do, seeing as I apparently cost you the match.” 

James laughed as he reached into his pocket and unlocked his phone, handing it to her. 

“I’ll call you, yeah?” 

“Yeah, I’d like that.” 

As she handed him his phone back, their fingers brushed, lingering for a moment before pulling away. Their eyes locked together and for a moment James contemplated just kissing her then and there.  

“I’ve got to go.” the girl gestured over to where her little brother was standing with his friends. James nodded, looking down at his phone screen where her name and phone number were displayed.  

“Y/N.” he read, “Very pretty. It suits you.” 

“I’ll tell my parents you said so,” she joked, “See you later, James.” 

[lulublack90]

Prompt 29 - Fancy

@jegulus-microfic January 29 Word count 1000

Previous part First Part

Six months later

He’d met Lily through Remus. Apparently, she’d offered him a piece of chocolate on her first day at work, and now she was his best friend. 

Sirius and Remus had decided to play matchmakers and set them up.

He liked her a lot. She was intelligent, feisty, funny, and she didn’t take anyone’s shit. He’d made it abundantly clear that he didn’t want anything serious. So they’d agreed to keep it casual, even though Lily slept over. A lot. 

Another new addition to James’s life was an adorable black cat named Leo. Sirius had gone with him to the rescue centre, and James had known the second he saw the runty little kitten that he was the one. 

Leo had settled in quickly, taking over the house. And for such a little guy, he didn’t half grow. Sirius’s puppy, Procyon. Named because she always rose before Sirius. — Lovingly nicknamed Cece,— let Leo walk all over her. She’d been bigger than him, but now he towered over her. Remus had only agreed to get a dog if it was a small one after he’d caught Sirius looking at pictures of Burmese Mountain Dogs and St.Bernards. So Cece the Yorkshire terrier became part of the family.

Lily came clattering down the stairs as James was booting his computer up. 

“Hey, you coming over tonight?” He asked her as she was shoving her feet into her shoes. 

“Yeah, I think so. Nothing else planned.” She told him absentmindedly as she looked for her keys. 

“Gee, thanks,” She rolled her eyes at him and slapped a kiss on his face. 

“See ya later, sexy.” She called behind her as she raced from the house. 

He liked her a lot, but she wasn’t him.

——————————————————————————————————

Regulus was doing surprisingly well at his new job. His boss, while a bit insane, was nice enough. He’d made sure Regulus had everything he needed and checked in weekly.

“Hey,’ Barty poked his head around Regulus’s office door.

“Hi,” Regulus replied, finishing typing before looking up from his computer. 

“You got a minute?” Barty looked nervous. Regulus didn’t think he’d ever seen him like that. Not even when they’d messed up a deadline, and the head boss had come down for a ‘discussion’. 

“Yeah, sure. What’s going on?” Barty had Regulus’s full attention now. 

“You can absolutely say no, and I’m aware that this is not the time or place to be doing this. Please don’t report me to HR. But would you like to go on a date with me this evening? I’m paying.” He added. His cocky smile seemed a bit forced, and Regulus could see a few beads of sweat gathering on his forehead. 

Regulus was shocked. He hadn’t seen this coming at all. But he couldn’t deny that Barty was an extremely handsome man. 

“Yeah, okay. You can pick me up at 7. My address is in my personnel file. I’m sure after this, you’ll have no problem looking through it.” He quirked his eyebrow in a way he hadn’t done in months as a smirk played at the corners of his mouth. 

“Ooooo, I like it when they’re demanding. See you at 7,” He raked his eyes over Regulus. “Wear something sexy.” He winked before he disappeared back onto the office floor. He was back before Regulus could start typing again. 

“Erm—Seriously though, please don’t tell Glenda in HR. I already have two strikes, and she’s got it in for me.” 

“You got it,” Regulus had to chew his cheeks so he didn’t laugh. 

“Good. Now get back to work.” Barty’s boss voice was back in place. He winked again before leaving. 

“Yes, boss.” Regulus snorted.

 He focused on finishing the report he’d been working on before he let his thoughts turn to James.   

——————————————————————————————————

His phone buzzed, ‘Unknown Number’ flashed on the screen. It was 3:30 am. He answered it anyway. 

“Hello?” He listened for a reply, but there was just static and maybe breathing. He wasn’t sure. “For fucks sake.” He groaned into the phone. “Why do these stupid automated calls have to do it so early in the—”

“James,” He felt his heart stutter. He knew that voice. 

“Reg?”

“Hi,” Another stutter.

“Hi’” A pause.

“I went on a date tonight with my boss,” Regulus’s confession came out in a blur. 

“Oh,” James felt the hope in his chest drain. Why, after all this time, was Regulus calling him? And to add insult to injury, calling him to tell him he’d been on a date!

“James?” 

“Yeah, Reg?” He pinched the bridge of his nose, uncertain if he wanted to hear what came next. 

“I miss you.” James froze. It took him a second to reply.

“I miss you too.” His voice came thick with emotion. 

James turned to look guiltily at the sleeping redhead in his bed. He quietly got up and went downstairs to his office.

“James, you still there?” Regulus’s voice whispered down the phone.

“Yeah, I’m here. Sorry, I had to go downstairs.” He wasn’t sure how much Regulus knew of his life, and he couldn’t bring himself to tell him. 

“Oh, crap, is Lily there? I’m so sorry, James. I shouldn’t have rung. I’ll- I’ll leave you alone.” Apparently, he knew a lot bloody Sirius and his big mouth.  

“Reg! Reg, wait! Reg, you still there?” He gasped into the phone, panicked. 

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m still here.” Came the reply. James let out a sigh of relief. Leo wandered into the office and brushed against James’s legs before jumping into his lap. James’s hand automatically raised to stroke him. 

“Did he take you anywhere nice?” He wanted to get off the subject of Lily and panicked. 

“Yeah, it was really fancy. Like what my parents used to drag me and Sirius to.” 

“What did you have?” It was easier than he’d thought it would be talking for the first time since their break up.

“James?”

“Yeah, Reg.”

“I want to come home.”

Next part

[blubushie]

i honestly feel like the effeminate gay thing is smth that people do to make queer men seem as non-threatening as possible. like see they are the good ones because femininity = good and harmless, masculinity = scary and evil

That's literally it. And it's something we do to ourselves too because of the stereotype.

I've known men who play up their feminity because they don't feel space in queer spaces otherwise. I worked an event with one once where he was doing THE stereotype behaviour—the fag hand, the lisp, the hip tilt, the "guuurl" and "sisterrrr" and giggles and acting like an absolute princess. Think James Charles, but bigger and buffer. He had a runner's body.

And then as soon as the event's over it's just me and him in the building, cleaning up stacking chairs putting tables away, and this cunt goes in one of the deepest gruffest voices I ever heard, "[heavy sigh] That was a fucking chore."

And he's standing like a man. Like a very exhausted, but very masculine, man. No hip tilt, no lisp, he's raking his hair back with his black painted nails and asks me if I can find some wipes to get "this shit off" while he gestures to his face (referring to his very vibrant eye shadow). So I get him some wipes and he's grumbling about how bullshit it is that he "has to do this" and I don't know what the fuck he's talking about, but then I realise this bloke is like... Actually really masculine. He's got a short beard, he looks like he'd be better fit in a business suit or in shorts at a barbie than at this event in a "QUEER IS HERE" rainbow tie-dye shirt and black skinny jeans.

And he looks at me and kinda sighs and goes "How do you stand it?" And he looks me up and down.

"Stand what?"

"Way they look at you like that. Like they hate you."

And I don't know what the fuck he's talking about, because I'm 21 and dumb and just excited to be at a pride event cuz I get to go to them so rarely. But then I think about how the pair of lesbians looked at me. And one of the drag queens, and the trans woman, and that transmasc kid who came with his mum, and the two gay men there were both effeminate twinks, and he's right. No one talked to me. No one approached me. I was an outsider the whole time, treated like an invader. The only two people who spoke to me was a woman who cracked onto me and I told her I'm only interested in men (was still recovering from my losing my gf and I wasn't interested in a hookup) and she tried flirting harder like she could convince me, and this bloke, who saw me standing myself twiddling my thumbs and asked if I was ok.

And I think of that cis-passing FTM bear I met at my first pride event, and how no one talked to us, and we spent the arvo into the evening just drinking and shooting the shit with each other cuz no one else would even approach us. And I think of the comments that were made about them "not feeling safe around men", and the way they'd glanced at us when they said it.

And things click.

And then he walks over to me, and puts an arm around my shoulders, and puts a tinny in my hand and says that puts himself on like that cuz if he doesn't, he's ostracised within his own community. He's scorned by his own fucking community unless he files down his male edges into something effeminate and timid and harmless. If he doesn't he's ignored, or people say they're uncomfortable around him because he acts and looks too masculine, or he's asked to leave because people don't feel safe with him there.

I don't go to pride events anymore.

[hitmewithsomebooks]

jegulus • 660 words • modern au

~

James had fucked up.

Somehow, he’d scheduled two dates for the same night. (‘Somehow’ being thanks to an ADHD riddled mind that was terrible at organization). Thankfully, they were a few hours apart, so he figured he had just enough time to finish one date and get to the other. James figured it was only fair to give both dates a shot, seeing as he’d clicked with both of them.

The first date was at 6pm with a man named Regulus. They had met on a dating app, and he’d become immediately smitten with the man’s charming, if a little mean, texts. (Some of James’s friends had accused him of being a masochist… he didn’t see it.) He’d also drooled a bit when he saw the man’s profile picture, so that certainly helped.

His second date was at 9pm, with a woman he’d met on another dating app (what do you want from him? He was lonely). Her name was Rebecca. She was fun to talk to, and enjoyed a lot of the same things as James. She was also gorgeous, her profile displaying many pictures of her in form-fitting, rather complimenting clothing. She genuinely looked like a model, and James may have been a little flattered that she’d been interested in him.

So, James put on a silky black shirt (that was very flattering on him), his nicest pants, and his new air forces (be wasn’t going to wear dress shoes), prepared for his double-booked night. He added a couple sprays of his favorite cologne for good measure, and ran a light cream through his hair to keep down the frizz, but still show off his natural curls.

He took his time getting to the restaurant, having left a half hour earlier when the place was only just over a fifteen-minute walk from his flat. When he arrived, he was exactly 14 minutes early, and he got them a table right by the window. It was tucked away from other tables, but in line with the door so Regulus could see him when he came in.

Not a minute later, Regulus showed up, scanning the room before spotting James. James gave a little wave, and he could see Regulus politely let the hostess know he had a table, before making his way over to James.

And fuck, he was even prettier in person.

Really, photos didn’t do him justice. Inky black curls framed his angular face perfectly, where pretty, pouty lips stretched into a warm smile. His eyes were stunning, a grey that looked to be harvested from the hazy evening sky. He wore a crisp, dark green suit, with shiny black loafers, making James wish he’d dressed a little nicer. Though, based on how Regulus’s eyes not-so-subtly raked over his figure, he didn’t seem to be complaining.

The moment Regulus sat down, there was a spark. James had always hopelessly sought after the romance of ‘love at first sight,’ but had never quite found it. This, though, if this wasn’t it, he didn’t know what was.

They began with polite, getting-to-know-you conversation, which smoothly delved into deeper, more heartfelt anecdotes, until, by the time that they finished eating, James felt that this man knew him better than almost anyone.

Unsurprisingly, James didn’t make it to his second date. He didn’t even think about her, actually. Instead, he and Regulus talked, and talked, and talked, until the restaurant was closing. Then, to his delight, Regulus invited him back to his flat, where they talked some more. The next night, James took him out on another fate, where they spilled their hearts some more, and afterwards had the best sex James had ever experienced.

Days later, when James finally remembered the second date he hadn’t attended, he went to apologize only to find the account reported and deleted. Apparently, the woman was a catfish.

Maybe some things really are meant to be.

[satansapostle6]

fire and ice | james cook

Cook’s interest is piqued when an old childhood friend moves in across the street.

Warning: Mature themes/language. Drug use. Sexual content.

part four.

part five.

Tiff shrieked loudly with laughter, feeling particularly drunk and high that Friday night. Cook was even higher as the two of them sat up in Tiff’s bed, drinking. They were both laughing hysterically as Cook slowly crawled over Tiffany’s body on the bed, his eyes dark with intoxication.

“Here comes the Cookie Monster!” Cook gave a toothy grin as Tiffany writhed with both amusement and discomfort at the same time.

“No, stop!” she cackled with laughter as he tickled her. “Cook! Stop it!”

He could hardly keep it together as he watched her squirm, alarmed by the sensation in her intoxicated state.

“Tickle fight!” Cook announced, loving the attention.

Tiff couldn’t stop laughing against her own will, her skin feeling as if it were on fire wherever he touched her. She hated being tickled, but somehow, with Cook, it didn’t quite bother her in the same way; it didn’t come with that unsafe feeling it usually did, like being molested by an uncle. With Cook, it was just something funny.

Tiff panted heavily as his fingertips tickled her stomach, looking up at him as he was positioned over her body, looking into her eyes. He suddenly felt rather bashful as he saw her lightly panting underneath him, chest softly rising up and down with each breath. He slowly pulled himself off of her, allowing her a moment to compose herself as he did the same.

“You’re really fucking something, you know that?” James Cook said under his breath, eyes slowly raking over her.

“Cook. Stop it,” Tiff said, this time less playful as she involuntarily made a face.

“No, no, I’m serious,” he assured her. “I mean, like… you’re more than fit.”

“Thanks,” she replied curtly.

He loudly sucked his teeth in exasperation, frustrated as she didn’t seem to understand what he had meant by that.

“No, Tiff, I mean like… Your features and stuff, yeah?” he questioned, hoping she followed.

“What about them?” she inquired.

“They’re just… I don’t know. They look right,” he expressed, strangely impassioned, “You know?”

“My face looks right?”

“Stop being a tit!” Cook complained. “I’m trying to tell you… Your face… It’s just perfect-looking. Like, if I was to try and picture good eyes, or a good nose, or good bones, it would be yours, every time,” he breathed, in awe of her.

“You’re fucking pissed out of your mind,” she concluded, more than observant of the way he was slurring his words.

“I am,” he admitted, “Which means I’m being extra-honest!”

“But you also just want to shag me,” Tiff reasoned.

“Two things can be true at once, can’t they?” he pointed out. “I can want to get you naked and think you’re beautiful. Wouldn’t I want to shag you because you’re beautiful?”

Tiff stopped for a moment, a satisfied grin on her face.

“The Cook thinks I’m ‘beautiful’?” she concluded.

She was delighted to watch as a look of realization slowly took over his features as he caught his mistake.

“Did I use that word?!” he exclaimed.

“Yes, you did!” Tiff cackled triumphantly.

“Shut the fuck up!” Cook complained, angrily tossing a pillow at her.

She caught it with ease, fully aware of the fact that he’d made it seem like he’d thrown it harder than he had. That was the thing with Cook; he always made his throws look harder than they were. The only reason Tiff hadn’t written him off when they’d first met as just another shallow, thoughtless wanker who could’ve cared less about her was because of the way he treated her.

Yes, Cook was wild, and funny, and playful, but he was rarely mean-spirited. Cook’s behavior was hardly ever targeted; it was just impulsive and essentially coincidental. Most boys Tiff had known would constantly be tearing others down or trying to prove themselves superior in every wild, crazy thing they did. That wasn’t necessarily the case with Cook.

Cook hurting someone was almost always a coincidence rather than an act of inconsideration. He treaded more carefully than one would’ve expected him to. Tiff knew that, when he hurt people, it was never intended at all. In fact, Cook usually meant to do the opposite. His outlandish antics and reckless behavior were meant to entertain and inspire; he was strangely inclusive in his antics.

Cook watched quietly as Tiff took another brutal swig of less-than-chilled vodka, gulping it down as she sat beside him.

“Tiff?” his voice cut through the pregnant pause between them.

“Yeah?” rasped as she looked back up at him.

“…Will you touch me?” he asked her with a concerning politeness.

Tiff just scowled, automatically writing this off as another weird joke.

“Go fuck yourself,” she replied, meaning what she said quite literally.

“No, not like that,” he said dismissively, a haze of intoxication guiding him as he chased his every whim. “I mean, like… Just hold me, or something. Like I’m your friend.”

“…You are my friend,” Tiff reminded him, starting to realize that this wasn’t a joking moment.

“Then will you just… be here with me?” he asked hopefully, blue eyes glassy as he fought the drunken urge to fall asleep.

“What about the girls you fuck?” she asked him. “Don’t they hold you after? Or, whatever it is you’re into.”

“Sometimes,” he remarked, deep in thought. “Not as often as you’d think, though. Besides. Doesn’t feel like you.”

“How do you mean?” she questioned, expecting a flirty response of some sort.

“I mean, like… When they touch me, it’s like I know we’re about to fuck. Which, you know, is cool, and everything,” he chuckled, eventually snapping back out of it. “But, I don’t know, Tiff, when you touch me, it’s different. Like when you touch me, it doesn't feel like you want something… Like, I can just be, you know?”

“I think I do,” she nodded. “Cookie… Is it possible that you appreciate that I’m not just here to fuck you?” she guided his thought process.

He paused for a moment, having to really consider.

“Maybe,” he conceded. “But, I’d still be game if you wanted to play with my willy a bit,” he added in quickly, prompting her to roll her eyes.

He just laughed as he laid down on her pillow, looking up at her for permission. She laid down beside him, reaching to turn her bedside lamp off before she settled in completely. Tiff laid down on her side of the bed as Cook slowly leaned into her, his body curling into a ball as he used her like a pillow, comfortable as his eyes began to close.

*****

Tiff’s eyes slowly opened to let in the light dimmed by the black curtains. And as she’d half-expected, Cook was gone in the morning. The only trace of him left behind in her bedroom was the empty bottle still rattling around on the messy bed, and the nearly empty pack of cigarettes left behind on the bedside table littered with garbage.

That was all Cook was, Tiff realized. Empty. Empty, and garbage. Empty garbage.

-

part six.

[tiffanytoms]

Fuck the Rich

Sooo, I wrote a smutty little one-shot (you can read here or on A03)

Thank you to @athenasparrow for her lovely ✨ Smut Sprinkle ✨ of bending ppl over counters 😉 It really got Lily going 😆

Rating: E Word Count: 11.5k

Warning: Long lead up and then pretty fucking filthy. Lily is super bitter and jaded here — basically what I see could have happened if she’d never given James a chance. And… rich ppl bashing? Is that something I have to warn about? Is that a plus? Again, I dunno, you decide. 🤷🏼‍♀️

Read story after the line ↓

Fuck, she hated rich people. 

Lily grimaced to herself as she followed the frail, old lady through the halls of her larger than life mansion situated here on this vast, sprawling estate. The woman had had the audacity to look at her watch when Lily arrived (at exactly her scheduled start time) as if she was trying to ‘politely’ admonish her for being late. The funny thing about rich people was they loved ‘joking’ that your pay should be docked if you were even a second past the hour, but never seemed to think you should be compensated if you showed up twenty minutes early and they insisted you get to work right away. ‘Because, well, if you’re already here anyway!’

That’s why Lily had started showing up precisely when her paycheck began raking in Galleons. With Apparation, it was just so easy to do. Why give anyone her free labor? This job wasn’t even her passion — it was just her means of keeping her (small, crumbling, hardly suitable) roof over her head.

Fuck. She shouldn’t be thinking like this. Being a chef wasn’t that bad. Honestly, Lily would even enjoy it if she didn’t feel like it was a job she was forced into out of sheer necessity. What was even the point of graduating the top of her class at Hogwarts if no one was hiring her kind? Ahem, let her rephrase that, people without experience who also, just so happened — weird coincidence really, definitely don’t quote us — to be Muggle-born. Lily had watched rejection after rejection owl in from all the prestigious potion companies, followed by the average ones, and then even from the potion shop down the street from her. It turned out a handwritten letter of recommendation from Professor Slughorn himself couldn’t convince the owner of Pop-Up Potions that hiring Lily was worth the possible Death Eater retaliatory attack. 

Lily wished that people understood that ‘staying out of it’ was very much still picking a side. And that side was the wrong one. 

So, Lily had licked her wounds and tried not to get more and more bitter as all her friends, and enemies, found jobs she would have killed for while she had to scramble for gig economy work. Eventually, she was hired as a chef for a luxury catering company. It worked because she was kept out of sight in the kitchens, and the clients were never the same (but always so insanely wealthy), so no one had to worry about being attacked for employing an undesirable. At first, Lily didn’t understand why the families that hired her didn’t just use their house-elves’ cooking, but she supposed that everyone wanted to try new dishes every now and again. (And a darker, more cynical side of her wondered if these rich prats secretly got off on making other humans serve them.)

Lily got to use her potions skills, but instead of making life-saving brews like she wanted to, she was using her magic to make the best damn five course meal of these people’s lives — all by herself. Who needed a sous chef when you had a wand? 

The best part of her job was the pride that came from seeing all her food, all lined up and ready to go, and knowing it was scrumptious and she could replicate it again for herself at home — even though it would have to be with slightly less expensive ingredients. The worst part was knowing sometimes her creations were going to feed the very same people who were pushing her to the outskirts of society. She would never forget the day she accidentally overheard some of her clients say how ‘Muggle-born rights had gone too far.’ It was insane to think that she was somehow good enough to make them their food, but apparently not good enough for anything else. Their logic was infuriating.

And that’s how she ended up here: following this lady through the maze of her home, being told ‘not to touch anything — it’s all antique family heirlooms.’

It’s all Merlin-awfully hideous, is what it is. Why this lady was convinced that Lily would want to run off with her gold-framed oil painting of a basket of fruit was so beyond her. 

“And here we are!” the lady announced, pushing open the swinging door to her gigantic kitchen. “I’m sure the house-elves are around here somewhere if you need help finding anything.” Lily knew what that meant: don’t ask me because I’ve literally never used this kitchen before in my life so I wouldn’t even know where we keep the spoons. She turned to leave, but then stopped dramatically. “Oh! The countertops are Italian marble, so they—”

“Stain instantly,” Lily finished for her. She would never understand this. Why on earth would anyone ever pay a premium to install a surface into their kitchen that made it practically unusable? Even a mere drop of lemon juice could forever tarnish the damn entire slab. Because they’re not the ones who have to use it, Lily. You and the house-elves are… “Not to worry,” Lily said out loud as she swished her wand, covering all the counters in a shiny film of magic. “This will protect it.”

The old lady’s eyes narrowed. “Are you sure?”

Another thing Lily just loved about rich people? They always assumed the help was so, so dumb. “Yes. Please don’t worry. I’ve done this countless times. Your counters will be spotless when I leave.”

The lady nodded, either mollified by Lily’s words or by the knowledge that she could simply sue Lily’s company for new marble countertops afterwards, and left out the door. 

Lily let out a huge sigh of relief, glad to finally be alone. She opened her tote bag and began emptying out all her coolers before magicking them back to size. If she recalled correctly, tonight’s event was an engagement party — so while the food was always expected to be delicious, tonight its presentation had to be absolutely flawless. Basically, the plates would have to look like edible art — but yummy. Always yummy. 

After briefly being greeted by her manager, Lily started on the hors d’oeuvres, laughing a little to herself when she saw the menu choices. Okay, one of the people getting married still had the appetite of a child, because for every high-end option like ‘ahi tuna on a gluten-free wonton crisp topped with a wasabi aioli drizzle’, there was a ‘pig in a blanket with ketchup’ alternative as well. (Truth be told, the appetizers that looked like they belonged on the kids’ menu were always the biggest crowdpleasers. Even with the rich.) She knew which hors d’oeuvres her servers would be fighting to pass tonight. (No one liked having to be the poor sod who had to push ‘goat cheese on a Belgian endive’ on anyone. Coming back to the kitchen with anything other than a completely empty tray was discouraged.)

“Hello, Lil,” Mary, her favorite server and also longtime friend, said as she arrived in the kitchen shortly afterwards. 

Lily embraced her in a quick hug. “Mm, you smell nice.”

“You smell like bacon. What’s on the menu?” 

Lily laughed as she handed it over. “Knock yourself out.”

Mary’s smile dripped off her face seconds later. “Lil… why does this menu say ‘Black Engagement Party’?!”

Lily snatched the sheet back. “Oh bollocks, seriously?” If she had to make a list of all the affluent, entitled Purebloods that she didn’t want to serve, the Blacks would probably be at the top of that list. “I didn’t think they had an estate out here?” She looked around the kitchen as if there would be a bright neon sign that read ‘Food for Purebloods Only’ just lying about.

“I dunno,” Mary said, shrugging her shoulders.

“Hang on, no,” Lily reasoned desperately. “The woman that let me in — she was the lady of the house and I didn’t recognize her.” The Black family loved being in all the society pages of The Prophet. As much as Lily hated to admit it, she would probably be able to identify the lot of them.

Mary’s eyes got large as saucers. “Unless…”

“Quaffle, have you seen—?” Lily didn’t even get to prompt Mary to continue, because just a second later, a handsome, unfairly fit wizard whom Lily hadn’t seen since graduation three years prior ambled into the kitchen. He stuffed a hand into his hair, and Lily hated that she remembered the quirk so well. “Oh. Hey Evans.”

Fuuuuuuccccckkkkk. Lily did a mental replay of her morning routine to recall if she’d put on some makeup, or even paid any attention to her appearance at all. She had not. “Potter,” she replied shortly. 

“Fuck,” Mary whispered the word of the day under her breath before zooming off. Lily assumed she was finding a bathroom where she could compose herself — or have a nervous breakdown. If James Potter was here, then there was a near certain likelihood that the Black who had gotten engaged was Sirius — aka Mary’s ex-boyfriend. Lily’s heart ached for her friend. Was there anything worse than having to serve your ex and his newly beloved? She thought not. 

“She all right?” James asked concerned, looking at the still swinging door that Mary had exited through. 

“She’ll be fine,” Lily lied, covering for her. “Can I help you?”

“Oh, uh,” James said, shifting from one foot to the other, clearly finding himself off-kilter with Lily’s unexpected appearance. “I was just looking for my house-elf.”

Oh. Oh my gods, of course! This is his house! Well. His parents’ house… Lily slowly closed her eyes and took a deep breath in through her nose. She’d known he was rich, but she’d never imagined he was castle-on-the-hill type of wealthy. His whole privileged, popular air at school made so much more sense now. He’d always been annoying, and for a year straight he’d asked her out as a joke, but after she’d temporarily hexed his bollocks off at the end of 5th year (Pomfrey had not been amused), he’d finally gotten the message and steered clear of her. Last Lily heard, he was working for his dad’s potions company — because of course he was. 

“Haven’t seen them,” Lily replied. 

“Right, okay,” James said awkwardly, looking wholly uncomfortable. Lily wondered if he was still a little bit afraid of her. She supposed that would be a reasonable reaction — she doubted anyone else had ever temporarily castrated him. But in her defense, she had told him if he ever asked her out one more time that she would. 

What could Lily say? She was a woman of her word. Her stubborn, stubborn word. 

She took a moment to take him in. There had been a couple of times (okay, maybe more than a couple) her final year at Hogwarts that she’d wondered if she had perhaps made a mistake in rejecting him. He’d obviously matured quite a bit, and honestly, he wasn’t too bad on the eyes…

Well, looking at him now, here in his kitchen, he’d only gotten better. He seemed to have finally found a good hairstyle that worked well with his luscious locks, not too long and not too short, and it let his soft curls have a bit of bounce in all their beautiful disarray. He’d also filled into his formerly lanky body quite nicely, and Lily was definitely noticing the slight strain to his shirt sleeves around his biceps and the cut lines of his forearms. His arms. Honestly, those were probably what did her in the most at school… If she closed her eyes, she could still feel the traitorous sting of jealousy the day Emmeline Vance had leaned over to him across her desk and doodled on one of his arms with her quill. She couldn’t explain back then why her blood had boiled quite so ferociously, but she probably could now… if she thought about it. (She didn’t want to think about it.)

Either way, the same hazel gaze that had peeved her before now pierced, and even in his uncertainty, he was still exuding a confidence that had definitely been lacking before. At school he’d given a boyish performance of arrogance. Now, he simply oozed the self-assurance of a man. And a dangerously sexy one at that.

Fuck, Lily thought for what felt like the thousandth time this evening. She was far too horny to be at work. She hadn’t gotten properly laid in way too long, and clearly it was manifesting itself in strange ways. She’d never slept with any of her clients, obviously, but she’d also never even had any sort of desire to. 

There is no need to start now, she told her body to no avail.

“Do you need anything else?” she asked him. Sure, he lived here, but if there was anything she hated, it was hosts who hovered in her space while she was trying to do her job — handsome hosts or not. (She was telling herself she hated his presence, ooh, she was telling herself that.)

“Nope,” James replied. “Is there anything you need?”

Oh, so many fucking things, and none of them are PG. 

Lily shook her head, trying to clear her unsanctioned, gutter musings. Unfortunately, the follow-up thoughts were not very helpful either. Was this the first time a client had ever offered to help her? Like… with anything? How in the world was it James friggin’ Potter who was showing her more common decency than all the previous pompous wankers combined?

The bar was truly so low. 

Just before she could gape at him for too long, wand hand slightly sagging while attempting to chop her onions, her manager Greg came rushing through the door, looking at his clipboard. “Shit, Rebecca’s just called in sick. We’re gonna be short-staffed tonight. Where’s Mary?”

Lily winced. If there was one rule in catering, it was to never let the guests see you sweat. “In the bathroom?” she said mousily, hoping her tone would convince Greg to look up and realize they weren’t alone.

It did. “Oh! Mr Potter!” Greg schmoozed, his demeanor completely shifting to pleasant and ingratiating. “I didn’t see you there!”

“Oh, you can just call me James,” he said, offering his hand out for Greg to shake. “Mr Potter makes me sound like my father.”

“And what a compliment that must be! I’m Greg. I’m your party’s manager tonight.” 

Barf. Lily didn’t hate that Greg groveled, because she was sure it often got them extra tips, she just hated that he had to. 

James chuckled good-naturedly for Greg's sake while he clapped his hands together. “I feel like since I’m the groom’s best man and live here, I’m duty-bound to be of service. So seriously, if you’re understaffed or need any help tonight, you can always put me to work.”

Greg laughed even though his face said he was crying of mortification on the inside. “No! Nooo, absolutely no need. We got this all under control! Please, don’t let us stop you from getting ready! Everything will go off without a hitch on our end!”

James gave Lily one last good look, making her uneasy and inexplicably twitchy, before giving Greg a nod and leaving. 

Fuck. What was that? And how dare he make her so wet? She was at work!

“Shit!” Greg whispered, breaking Lily’s strange trance. “Why the hell didn’t you tell me we had the goddamn host in the kitchen?!”

Could she point out it wasn’t her job to make her manager open his damn eyes? “Sorry.”

Greg rubbed his forehead. “It’s fine.” He sighed. “Now where’s Mary?”

Lily pointed to the door she’d left through, wanting him to go away so she could have peace. No angry managers, no sultry blasts from the past — simply her and her food. Suddenly the end of this shift couldn’t come fast enough. Sure, she wasn’t ashamed of what she did for work, but she knew that deep down, she wished that the first time she saw James after years wasn’t while cooking at his place for a party that she hadn’t been invited to. Obviously you weren’t invited; you were never a part of that circle! But still: it was weird, and Lily didn’t like it. 

Now if only she could stop thinking about how bloody good he looked, then maybe everything would be okay. 

☆☆☆

“Shit! Shit shit shit shiiiiit!” Greg wheezed, ambling back into the kitchen, not having learnt his lesson and still not looking up, only five minutes later. “Mary says she’s sick and is going home now too! We only have one server for like fifty super upscale guests! This is a disaster!”

“Maybe they both caught the same bug?” Lily fibbed. Rebecca wasn’t a liar, so she probably actually was sick, but Mary deserved someone to have her back today. “We all worked the same party last night.”

Greg looked up at her pointedly. “Don’t you dare get sick on me too. I won’t let you leave. If you vomit, vomit away from the food.”

Ew. “Roger that.”

So half an hour later, Greg and one poor, overworked server were pushing out all the appetizers by themselves while Lily started on the entrees between heating duties.

“The truffle honey brie cups are ready,” Lily said as she heard the door swing open.

“Roger that.”

Lily looked up startled, this time actually dropping her wand. It turned out she too hadn’t learnt from Greg’s mistake. 

It was James. He still says that, she thought (somehow) breathlessly.She’d nearly forgotten that the whole reason she said that silly phrase was because it was practically all he’d ever reply to her at Head meetings when they’d been Head Girl and Boy. She’d started parroting it back to him in jest, but then it had sort of… stuck. 

It was weird to realize all these years later that he’d had any impact on her, even if it was something as small as a slight tweak to her vernacular.

Before Lily could react, he bent down to pick up her wand off the floor, offering it to her. “Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you.” He had changed out of his grey teeshirt and jeans and was now wearing a crisp navy blue button-up, tastefully (albeit cruelly) unbuttoned two notches. He’d always had beautiful, flawless skin, and that still seemed to be the case, although she didn’t think she’d ever seen that particular patch. She’d made a point to never go to Quidditch matches back in school lest she witness any more reasons to regret her decision to reject him. 

“You’re fine,” she said under her breath, trying to ignore the way her fingers had to brush his to take her wand back. Okay, so they hadn’t had to, but she’d wanted them too. Damn, I shouldn’t want to touch him. She turned around to direct all her fingerling potatoes into neat little piles across fifty plates. 

“You doing okay in here?”

“Huh?” Sure, she was a professional, but it still took a lot of concentration to keep so many moving parts going. 

“Are you doing okay?” he repeated. “I figured Mary bounced after she realized this party was for Sirius because… well. You know.”

Lily turned back to face him, finding him tugging at his hair again. He had to stop doing that. It was making her want to do it for him. “Yeah…” Wow, of course he still remembers Mary. She had dated his best mate in school. Naturally, they must have hung out too. If Lily recalled correctly, Mary had tried to persuade her on many occasions that James was actually a decent bloke, but Lily hadn’t wanted to listen. Of course Mary had said that — she was in love with his best friend! She probably wanted some sort of harmony amongst her people or had some silly daydream about double dates and whatnot. Mary had dropped the topic when she’d realized Lily was going to remain obstinate about the whole thing.

She’d truly always been too pigheaded for her own good. 

Lily cleared her throat and tried again. “Yes, we’ll manage just fine. We always do. Sorry you heard all that, but I’m sure your family will be reimbursed for getting less staff than you paid for.”

James’ brows scrunched as he observed her. “Evans,” he began slowly, “it’s me. You don’t have to give me your whole customer service bullshit.” She watched as his pronounced Adam’s apple bobbed with what looked like a parched swallow. "We know each other.”

A shiver ran down Lily’s spine, and like most of the feelings she experienced around this man, she wasn’t quite sure why. Did they? Did they know each other at all?I mean, they’d shared a bunch of classes years ago, but had they ever really talked more than a few jibes here and there? She pushed all the confusion away. “Sorry Potter, but I really need to get these plates ready or else—”

“Then put me to use,” James said simply as he committed the single biggest sexy sin: he deftly popped open his cufflinks before slowly rolling up his sleeves. 

Oh, fuck you. Was he trying to torture her? Kitchens were already notoriously hot enough without James Potter parading himself around like some sort of mouthwatering arm candy. “That’s okay—”

“Seriously, Evans. I don’t know if you remember, but I’m actually quite good at magic.” She really hoped he didn’t notice she was still fixated on his gorgeous hands and forearms. “So go on. Order me about. I remember you really used to love doing that.”

Oh man. Yep. She was still too horny for this — because that? Him telling her to ‘use him’ and ‘boss him around’ was really doing things for her. Deciding it was easier to just put him to work rather than fight him on it, Lily blew a stray strand of hair that had escaped her bun off of her forehead before showing him the correct wandwork for how to place the filet mignon slices in a delightful staggered row. At least this way, she’d have enough time to finish up her sauce.

They worked side by side for some time, Lily wholeheartedly trying to ignore just how much she liked having him there. Sure, watching a man cook was sexy in and of itself, but just…knowing that there was this whole party going on on the other side of that wall, but instead of being there, he was electing to stay and help her? 

Honestly, the whole thing sort of made her want him to bend her over this stupid-ass marble countertop and do her right there. Why could she picture that so easily? Her leggings around her ankles, his hand bracing against the cabinets above her while he pounded into her again and again from behind, bruising her hips as they bumped rhythmically against the counter. She rubbed her thighs together, almost wishing she could feel the soreness that should be there — that would be, if only he let her use him in the manner she so desperately craved.

Fuck, she needed some water. And maybe a cigarette. (She had never even smoked a day in her life.)

“How have you been?” he asked, finally breaking the amicable, if not highly charged, silence between them.

“Fine,” she lied. It was easier to sugarcoat things. She truly doubted he’d ever understand her problems. Why would he? He obviously lived a completely different life. 

He nodded. 

A few seconds later, she realized it was probably really rude if she didn’t at least ask him the same thing back. “And you?”

James looked at her and smiled, a genuinely warm and lovely smile, and Lily felt her heart skip the smallest of beats. “Good, yeah, really good. Happy for Pads of course.”

“Oh yeah,” Lily hummed noncommittally. “Getting married.”

“Yup.”

“That’s crazy.”

“You think so?” he asked her, completely taking her by surprise.

“I mean, yeah,” Lily fumbled. “We’re still quite young…”

James shrugged. “When you know, you know.”

Lily swished her wand and watched as a sprig of rosemary deposited itself onto every piping hot dish, finishing the plates’ perfect appearance. “I guess.”

James folded his arms and turned to her, leaning back against the (far too saucy) counter. “What? You don’t believe in love or something?”

“No, I do.” Why had the question unnerved her so much? Why did she suddenly feel so defensive?

“We’re just too young?” he pushed.

Lily’s eyes shot up to his with his choice of words. We aren’t anything, at least not together — not in that sense. But the more she saw his eyes shining through his glasses, challenging, twinkling with mischievous mirth, the more she decided she was so down to bang him. The thought had morphed from a naughty daydream to a full-blown mission in record time, but screw it, we are young. Wasn’t youth all about making mistakes and doing what you wanted? She was horny, and if he was anything like he was at school, he was probably also down, so why the fuck not? She’d probably never see him again, so as far as no-strings attached hookups went, he was probably the best she was going to get. Besides, she wanted to shag him. Like, really, truly wanted to have him blow out her back and break her mind from how hard she wanted him to fuck her. Shouldn’t that be reason enough?

It was just sex.

Fuck it, let’s fuck him. 

Now all she had to do was glean if he was actually down — but come on, he was spending like a quarter of this party with her; this had to be his motive. Get in her good graces so he could get in her pants — it was practically what he’d tried to do back at Hogwarts, but he hadn’t been as smooth back then. Or maybe she just hadn’t been this desperate, who knew? 

Then, once she was sure he was game, she had to figure out how to make it happen.

“Shouldn’t you be out at the party doing best man duties?” she fished.

James’ eyes dropped to her lips and back before his own slipped into a smirk. “He’s so wrapped all over Aya right now, I doubt he’s even noticed I’m gone.”

Oooh, so that’s it. Lily held back a scoff. Weddings always had a special way of making single people feel lonely as hell. Lily was cool with that. If he wanted to fuck away his wedding-related blues and she wanted a good lay to make her temporarily forget all the injustices of the world, that sounded like a win-win to her. 

“Lily are the—” 

Lily hadn’t even realized her lower lip was between her teeth until Greg’s sudden intrusion into the kitchen had made her bite down on it. “Ow.”

“Mr Potter!” Her manager sounded borderline hysterical. “Can we help you?”

“Oh no, Greg. Lily was just being kind enough to entertain me for a bit. I’ll get out of everyone’s way.” He pushed off the counter, walking past Lily with the brush of his palm against her lower back. 

She normally hated it when guys did that. She did not hate it this time. Oh he is so fucking down. She grinned to herself smugly. The rest of the evening passed by pleasantly swift after that.

☆☆☆

“Thank you so much! Really, everyone was simply raving about the food!” the frail, old lady — apparently James’ mum — said at the end of the party when only the last few stragglers were left mingling by the edge of the bar in their backyard. Lily suspected the rest of her crew would probably have to stay another hour for cleanup, but mercifully, she could go home now. 

“I’m glad everyone liked it,” Lily said politely, trying not to look at James standing by his mother’s side. It felt wrong to acknowledge him in his mother’s presence considering all the filthy ways she’d already fantasized about taking him that night. After James had helped her make dinner, he’d popped back around for desserts, and then even again afterwards to slip her a glass of champagne. Normally, the servers would be the ones to do that — ‘I’ll sneak you some booze if you sneak me some food’ — but with how crazy the party had been, obviously this hadn’t been the case tonight. Also, Lily had never encountered a server brazen enough to bring Lily a glass of the really good stuff. She had no doubt that she had probably been sipping on a hundred Galleons worth of bubbly. James had choked a little bit when Lily had splashed a dash of orange juice into her flute, but honestly, she didn’t care. If it tasted better ‘ruined,’ then so be it.

Oh, how the other half lives.

James’ mum turned to him. “Will you please be a dear and give this woman her tip and then see her out?”

Lily resisted the urge to roll her eyes. I don’t want your damn oil paintings, lady. Lily almost laughed to herself as she amended, Just your son’s dignity. 

James had the decency to blush with his mum’s command. “Of course.” His mother patted him on the chest before leaving for a separate door that Lily assumed led upstairs. 

And then they were alone. Lily checked to make sure she’d shrunk and stashed away all her coolers before removing the counter protection spell.

“Got everything?” James prompted. Did he feel slightly awkward too? Was he perhaps also figuring out a way to get the two of them just as alone upstairs where they could have a little more privacy?

“Oh…” Lily smiled as she turned around and reached for the water bottle that she may have placed on the far reaches of the counter solely so that she could bend over to grab it. If she had to be tortured by the desire to have him fuck her against it all night, then the least he could do was join her in her pain for two seconds. “Got it,” she said innocently as she turned around, hoisting her tote bag higher over her shoulder before slipping her water inside. 

She’d never seen James’ cheeks rosier. It was oddly endearing. She wondered if he’d always had a smattering of freckles across his nose, or if they had shown up with his darkening tan. They’re probably new and due to his increased time for lavish vacations now that he’s out of school. 

Ugh. 

“Great,” James said, still seemingly having a hard time looking her in the eye after her little stunt. “Let me just take you to the vault for a second.”

“Excuse me?” Vault? What?

James looked at her horrified. “It’s not in the basement or anything—”

Lily laughed. “I don’t think you’re gonna kidnap me, Potter. I was more pointing out the absurdity of someone having a vault in their home.”

“Oh.” He looked kind of lost for words. Clearly he didn’t even realize it was absurd. Maybe everyone he knew had one. “Right.”

Lily followed him out of his kitchen and down the hall. 

“So you had a good night?” he asked. 

“It was all right. Yours?”

“Only all right?” he prodded, turning around and walking backwards so that he could look at her with a boyish grin as he continued leading the way. 

Oof. Stop. I’m already gonna fuck you; you don’t have to be any more charming. “I mean, I was working, so…”

James’ nose twitched before he came to a stop. “Right.” He opened an ornate door and cast a special charm on a thick titanium box inside that glowed purple before cracking ajar. Lily didn’t think she’d ever seen that many Galleons all stacked in neat little rows as far as her eyes could see. Clearly the vault had been cast with the same magic spell as her tote bag and could hold infinite objects. Oh how Lily wished her bag was filled with this much gold. 

“Uhh…” James struggled, again not being able to look directly at her, but now for a completely different reason. “Um,” he let out a weird chuckle, “what do you normally get… uh—”

It was hard not to take pity on him. Why was money such a touchy subject? Well, you really hate the rich so… clearly the whole money thing affects you too. Lily pushed the bout of self reflection aside.“How much do I normally get tipped for parties that I cook for?”

James slid his glasses up his nose where they’d started to slip. “Yes.” He seemed so grateful she’d found the words for him. 

Lily crossed her arms, figuring toying with him might be fun. “Depends. I guess you need to determine how satisfied you were with my work.” James’ eyes sliced to hers before he blinked profusely, and so fucking cutely. Fuck, she had never found him cute before. Truth be told, she didn’t think popular jock James Potter could be cute back in the day. “I’m kidding,” she whispered, leaning into him before his internalized panic combusted him. “You were just making it really weird. But yeah, normally just a few Galleons for a party this big—”

“Here,” he cut her off, grabbing two heaping handfuls of gold and shoving them into her hands. 

Lily’s brows shot up her forehead as she tried to balance all the coins. “Yeah, that’s too much—”

“Hogwash.”

“No really, I think you just gave me like, twenty times my biggest tip ever—”

“Great! Consider it backpay for all the times I bothered you in school. Can this conversation be over now?”

Lily looked at him skeptically before tittering, somehow finagling her bag open a smidge so she could throw the money inside. The coins clattered for a good thirty seconds, raining down on all the various coolers and tools she’d brought, before she could talk again. “Well. Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it. Ever.” James smiled. “Please.”

She bit her lip again, but this time, she was fully aware of it. “Okay.”

James ruffled his hair before pointing the way out of the small room. “It was actually good to see you again, Evans.”

Oh crap. Was it silly of Lily to feel slightly cheated? Like, she wasn’t sure if she’d ever been more pitifully worked up in her life, and he was going to send her home? She sighed. She supposed this was her karma for rejecting him all those years ago. Although, she stood by that choice. (She did!) The James walking beside her now was leagues beyond that bloke she’d avoided like the plague back in 5th year. 

They got to the grand foyer of his house. “Yeah.” She grinned. “Surprisingly good.”

“Surprisingly?” he repeated teasingly. “Evans, you wound me.”

He was flirting. Was it bad that some of that hope for a possible hookup came rushing back to her? “Let’s just say you weren’t the worst company tonight.”

Clearly her face was doing something, because his expression suddenly seemed to morph to match it. Was he getting it? Was he understanding that bedding her tonight was a done deal? She’d heard that some ridiculously high percentage of all communication was nonverbal, and in this moment, she believed it. A look flitted across his face, but was gone an instant later. “Do you…” His eyes strayed from hers, watching the way Lily licked her lips utterly enraptured before snapping back. “Do you wanna…?”

Lily nodded at him encouragingly. “Stay?” 

James blinked rapidly, as if physically removing the confusion from his eyes. “Um, yeah?”

She shoots, she scores! Lily cheered to herself, so glad this whole night wouldn’t be a complete bust. It really was so hard to go out and mingle with people her own age when her work hours were literally everyone else’s party time. “Awesome.” She gave him a charming smile, figuring they were both finally on the same page. “Do you mind if I use your shower first? Sorry, I smell like food.”

James shook his head, still seeming to have a hard time processing the entire chain of events. He was probably used to having to work harder for it, but at this point, Lily was so ready to get off and was past the point of caring what any rich douche thought of her. “Oh, yeah. Of course. You can use mine.”

Lily followed him up the grand staircase, making small talk and glancing at the various childhood photographs of him that lined the wall. As far as she was concerned, they were far more interesting to look at than the stupid fruits on display downstairs. 

“And this is my room,” James announced rather unnecessarily. Even if he hadn’t been there to proclaim it, Lily was sure she could have found his space by the loud pop of Gryffindor red on the walls or the various Quidditch posters plastered everywhere.

“Wow James,” she teased, closing his door behind her and walking around, taking it all in. “This feels very…”

“I know,” James admitted, scratching the back of his neck. “I haven’t really changed anything since school, but honestly I keep telling myself I’m about to move out so it doesn’t matter, but then…”

“You don’t,” Lily finished for him. Normally, she’d feel pissed, thinking about how he was blessed with the advantage of free room and board only to be considering giving it up… but then she realized that if he wasn’t planning on living by himself soon, she would judge him for his inability to grow up. 

It was rather silly how you could always find flaws in the people that you were already determined to hate anyway.

How was James Potter making her think of him — and people like him — like a person? It was pretty uncomfortable. She rather enjoyed thinking of all the privileged assholes of the world as one entity. One conglomeration of misery that met every Tuesday to discuss how they could ruin the lives of everyone else. Of poor people.

All that being said, this was hardly the bachelor pad she’d been envisioning for him. It was damn near impossible to picture him bringing that many girls back here. 

“Yeah,” James sighed. He pointed to the door in the back corner of the room. “That’s my bathroom. You can shower and there are fresh towels in the closet.” He hooked a thumb over his shoulder. “I can go back while you—”

“No, that’s okay,” Lily responded quickly. She wasn’t going to take that long. Why would he leave? That sort of defeated the whole purpose of tonight. “Stay. I’ll be right out.”

“Okay,” James agreed, stuffing his hands in his pockets as she disappeared into his bathroom. It was clean as hell, but she supposed that was to be expected when he had house-elves; she wouldn’t be giving him any unearned credit for tidiness that wasn’t even his own. 

The first thing she did was stare at herself in the mirror. Sure, so it wasn’t her best look, but it wasn’t her worst either. And clearly, the man wasn’t complaining. She turned on the water while stripping out of her gross work clothes before stepping in and melting under the divine water pressure of James’ shower head. She could really get used to this. (It might just be the best perk of being rich she’d discovered so far, you know, besides all the other obvious ones.) She scrubbed and shaved herself quickly (thank you wand) before toweling off and rummaging through her bag for her emergency eyeliner. If she was going to shag this guy, she might as well feel her best while doing so. 

Satisfied that she was presentable, Lily performed a quick hair drying spell, clutched the towel around her chest, and walked back into James’ room, finding him sitting at his desk, bouncing his knee. He popped up to his feet as soon as he saw her re-enter, his eyes wildly scanning down her towel-clad body. “Hi.”

He was still fully dressed. Lily had no idea why, but she’d have bet money that he would be lounging across his bed in his boxers by the time she got out. Maybe with one leg propped up and open while he leaned on his palm. “Hi,” she responded with a curious grin. Did she, Lily Evans, actually make him nervous? Like, not scared-for-his-bollocks nervous but… this kind of nervous?

“Good shower?” he asked, his eyes seemingly unable to keep from dipping to her towel periodically as she walked up to him. She had to imagine it was a thrill just knowing how close she was to being totally bare for him — because no one looked that good in a fluffy red towel. If she’d have seen his awestruck expression in a vacuum, she would have assumed he was watching the most beautiful woman on the planet approach him in the sexiest lingerie known to womankind. Not because of this.

She was ready, he was ready, so why should they keep playing games? “Excellent shower,” she whispered as she dropped the towel, standing before him naked. 

There was a three second beat. 

“Holy shit.”

Lily laughed, appreciating that he was at least trying (and succeeding) to make her feel special. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and pulled him down for a kiss. He took a second to reanimate, a nice further touch on his part, but then Lily felt his fingers as they clutched her waist, pinching her in as he pulled her closer, flush against his body, before responding to her lips’ fervor. Fuck, the man knew how to snog. Lily rarely found anything as disappointing in life as having a crush whose kissing style vastly differed from her own, but all it took was two seconds to realize this would not be the case with James. When their mouths danced and her instincts took over, she knew that she could switch her mind off and just let her body feed off of his. She didn’t have to overthink, she didn’t have to analyze, she could just feel her yearning and have it be answered by his, because his body was picking up what she was putting down and meeting her there. He groaned into her mouth and her hips stuttered, somehow already so fucking primed for him to take her.

“Fuck Lily,” James breathed between kisses, reaching down for her bum and picking her up, encouraging her legs to wrap around him so he could spin them the other way and deposit her onto his desk. “Where did—?”

But Lily didn’t want to entertain his questions; she wanted to get him naked. “You’re still awfully dressed, Potter.” She kissed and nipped down his neck, squeezing her calves so that his tented trousers grazed her cunt, hopefully reminding him that she was exposed for him already, so let’s get a move on. Her fingers got to work plucking open his buttons, pulling back slightly so she could see his chest as she pushed his fancy shirt over his broad shoulders. Fuck! Yeah, not attending his games had definitely been a smart act of self-preservation on her part. The man looked like a friggin’ model straight out of her dreams. 

“I’m living out my fantasy,” James panted, finally helping her out and shrugging off his shirt, letting it fall unceremoniously to the floor in a heap. He seemed to really love the attention she was giving his neck. It only encouraged her to graze her teeth a little bit rougher, loving how she could directly feel the effect it had on his breathing. “Give me a moment.”

Ugh, there was the cocky arsehole she remembered. The line was just so corny. “You’ve always wanted to fuck your chef?” she sassed back. He could try to win her over with witty rehearsed one-liners, but she sure as shit didn’t have to fall for them. As far as she was concerned, she was hooking up with him in spite of who he was, and definitely not because of it. 

James laughed but didn’t respond, instead opting to lean forward into her and claim her mouth once more as he dragged her closer to the edge of the desk, his hand on the small of her back just like she’d liked so much in the kitchen. He didn’t seem to be able to help himself from rocking her against him, making them both moan in unison. This whole situation just seemed like a drawn-out tease, and Lily was ready to get to the real action.

Truthfully, he was far too good at kissing, his tongue wickedly playing with hers, and if Lily wasn’t careful, she might just let him do this all night. She had to remain focused. She couldn’t get distracted… no matter how much it seemed like James was cheekily, rakishly trying to. She pushed his body back slightly by his warm, far too chiseled chest so that she had room to finagle with his belt, biting and tugging on his lower lip as she pulled the leather end free. “I need you to fuck me, Potter,” she commanded before pulling the belt all the way out and pushing down his trousers. 

James’ jaw clenched as he stepped out of his pants and took both of her hands in his own in order to pull her from the desk, leading her towards his bed. “What do you want?” he asked gruffly when she stood beside the mattress. He hurriedly pushed his trunks down so that he was just as naked as she was. 

Fuck yes. She had no idea why — again, probably for survival purposes — but through the years she had convinced herself that he had to have the world’s tiniest pecker. 

Turned out he didn’t. Not even close.

“Eyes are up here, Evans,” he taunted, and Lily was almost mad that she’d given him the opportunity for such an easy line. 

“From behind,” she said, already knowing the pure havoc those simple words would wreak on the poor boy. The same basic, primal instinct that she knew she was tapping into to get the best reaction out of him as possible was the same reason she wanted the position in the first place. She didn’t want his fake romance or any platitudes that he’d forget spewing as soon as he came — she wanted to get fucked. Raw and hard and deep. Right fucking now. If she was nothing but a servant to people like him, he could just as easily be nothing but an easy shag for someone like her.

She crawled onto the mattress on her hands and knees, looking back over her shoulder at him, making sure to give her hair a good flip. He looked like he’d just died. She was right: he was easy. “Chop chop.”

He shook his head, trying to get at least some blood back into his brain. “Chef humor.” It didn’t come out as a burn or any sort of comeback, but more like the words of a man who was trying to prove to himself that he had some semblance, any clue really, of what was going on around him. 

Lily chuckled. She had to at least give him brownie points for putting those two things together in his addled, fully erect state. She knew men weren’t always at their brightest when their cocks were so painfully hard.

But then, James seemed to want to regain some iota of his dignity back. Standing behind her, he gently skimmed his fingers from her tailbone, over her arse, all the way through her pussy lips while his free hand tugged absentmindedly on his cock. The sight stole the breath straight out of Lily’s lungs. It was dumb, because he was about to be inside of her, but she wanted to be the one with his cock in her hands. She wanted to feel him as he thickened, ride him as he throbbed, and taste him right before he wilted. She wanted him all, all to herself.

“Are you ready?” His voice was a timber so low, so sexy, she thought she might have gotten even wetter — a feat that she wasn’t aware was even possible.

“Touch me and find out.” She bit her lower lip, not sure anymore if she was still seducing him, or just in desperate need to bite something, anything, if she couldn’t bite him. He was currently this perfect combination of flustered and eager and it was completely driving her up a wall.

He followed her heed and slipped one finger into her, whimpering almost as loudly as she did when he felt her body clutch around him greedily. “Fuck, Lily, you’re so fucking wet right now,” he breathed as he slowly began to massage his finger in and out of her. 

Lily arched her spine, flexing into the welcome feeling of him discovering her. “I’ve been this wet for you all night. So kind of you to notice.” Her fingers scrunched into his sheets, clearly some expensive, high thread count shit, as she lowered her chest to the mattress, displaying herself all the more blatantly for him. Had James been a viable dating prospect for her, she probably wouldn’t have been so shameless. If James Potter was someone whom she could actually date in the real world, she might be playing it coy, or give a single flying scruple about how he could interpret her visible keenness for him to plow her senseless as a negative. Because, who knows why, but actively wanting to get fucked is still seen as a negative for girls. But alas, the James Potters of the world never ended up with the Lily Evanses, so… she could be as real, and as lustfully turned on for him as she positively was… and show it. 

“Fuck,” he repeated, actually sounding tortured as he added a second finger inside of her. 

The naughty stretch was everything Lily had been missing these past few months. She rocked forward as she muffled her cries into his mattress, letting her bottom lip drag across the satin sheet as she slowly tilted her head up before looking back at him. “Yeah, just like that, Potter.” She hadn’t expected him to be quite this talented of a lover, but she supposed she shouldn’t be that surprised. He did have a reputation after all. And it’s not like he was ever an academic idiot. She figured he’d always learned things quickly enough. And boy am I benefitting from it now…

He’d gotten on his knees behind her at some point, face eye level with all the action. His stare kept oscillating between his fingers, watching them disappear into her over and over again, and her face, as though sinking up all the events in his head as one, continuous reality that he now had the absolute privilege of living. “May I?”

May I what? “Yes.” Lily decided whatever he was asking didn’t matter. In that moment, she’d let him do anything.

A second later he leaned in and his face disappeared from view as he replaced his fingers with his tongue and moved his thumb’s attention to her clit. Lily yelped in pleasure, the unexpected switch nearly driving her to the edge already. She wasn’t sure if she’d ever had a man eat her out without her prompting him to (quite insistently… for months) and the shock alone was thrilling. It was so dumb, but as James licked her again and again and, so beautifully, rubbed her nub in tight, satisfying circles, she couldn’t help but feel like an idiot. In what world was Potter the one giving her head? In what world was he the guy who was going to make her come with his mouth when the so-called saviors of her world had laid on their backs and expected her to service them as a reward for all the ‘hard work’ they did on the daily of treating her as an equal? 

Sure, James had been an ass, but had he ever treated her as an inferior? Had he ever made her feel worthless? Or had he just been a standard, teenage idiot? 

Had Lily really been missing out? Had she really shot herself in the foot purely out of spite by misjudging him? Was she insane for altering her whole life view around the act of cunnilingus? 

Fuck. She was thinking again. 

His tongue made a broad, firm lick against her clit before flicking her back and forth and Lily wanted to scream, settling for balling his sheets in her fists instead. “James…” she sighed with a suppressed moan, eyes screwed tightly shut. He was far too good at this too.

He lapped at her more incessantly and Lily couldn’t believe she could feel that his lips had formed a smile. “You like that?” he teased.

Yes. No need to be so smug about it.

Lily reached behind her and pulled on James’ wrist, tugging him up so that he was forced to return to his feet. The way he wiped his moist lips on the back of his hand, reminding her of her own arousal for him, was lethal. “Yes?” he asked, chest heaving in and out exaggeratedly as he stared into her very soul. She had to look so pathetic, face smushed into the mattress, cheeks flushed whilst on the verge of breaking for him, but you wouldn’t be able to tell from how he was looking at her.

“Fuck me. Now. Please.”

“Roger that.”

She could only watch the first few seconds after he lined himself up behind her, because as soon as he started pushing in, his cock feeling so fucking good and so right inside of her, she had to turn back into the sheets, muffling her whimpered whine as she hit her left fist into the mattress beside her face. It wasn’t fair. Someone so hot shouldn’t have a cock so perfect. James Potter should not have the perfect face, and the perfect body, and then also the perfect boyfriend dick that was exactly large enough to fill her up so generously and make her feel every damn inch of him as he thrust himself into her from behind — making her so unfairly aware of just how deep her body could stretch when she was hot and bothered for him — but not too large that she felt like crying at the thought of taking him like this forever. She wanted to get fucked like this forever. She wanted to have his cock in her cunt, in her mouth, wherever else he wanted to shove it, in perpetuity.

“Does that feel good?” he gasped behind her, his right hand migrating from her hip up her body until it found her chest, his grip possessively digging into her breast. How were they fucking already but he hadn’t even properly worshiped her tits yet? How was it that a few hours ago she was celebrating the innocent placement of his hand upon her back, and now she was pondering just why he hadn’t yet mapped out every centimeter of her body with his tongue?

“Yes,” she bit out. “Harder.”

James groaned as he obeyed her command, his hips snapping back and forth at a brutal pace. His free hand applied light pressure against her lower spine so that her body stayed in place, just where he wanted it. The move kept her from jostling too much up and down the bed, allowing her cunt to fill to the hilt with him with every punishing thrust. “Like this?”

“Harder.” She wanted him to hit her so deeply that it finally shattered her. 

For some reason, the muffled curses he breathed into her shoulder as he bent completely over her, doing everything within his power to grant her request — his hips never stopping even though it seemed as though his brain was frying — was the thing that was curling her toes and making her eyes start to roll up. His balls were hitting against her clit, and Lily had never wished more vehemently that she could see the action herself.

“Fuck, Lily, fuck—“ he got out in choppy bursts before his teeth finally sunk into her skin. It turned out she wasn’t alone in her need to bite the shit out of anything she wanted to either fuck or squeeze to death. His right hand left her tit and instead migrated to the mattress so he could interlock fingers with her, pushing her palm down.  

“Just like that… just like that,” she babbled incoherently, feeling herself so fucking close to the edge that she could taste it. Which is why she fully screamed when he pulled out of her and rolled her over onto her back. “Potter, what the fuck—!”

“Your turn,” he said simply as he collapsed onto the mattress next to her and pulled her on top of him. In any other context, she would hate just how much he was throwing her body around like he owned it. In this particular instance, she wished he’d never stop. “I wanna see your face when you come.”

“Fuck you,” she grumbled as she swung her leg over him, realizing that if she wanted something done right, she really would have to do it herself. She was ready to ride one out on him, hot and heavy and fast, but just as she sunk down on his cock, James sat up, his hands clutching onto the back of her shoulders. She felt oddly cocooned in this embrace, safe and warm and… held? What the fuck is he doing? It was impossible not to watch his face in this position, impossible not to see every emotion that played out in his eyes as he looked lovingly from her lips to her lashes before he tangled a hand in her hair and kissed her, deeply. 

Lily gasped and pulled back when the intensity of their snog became too much, squeezing her eyes shut as she felt her cunt flutter around him. He’s been edging you so hard, she told herself. She told herself. She told herself. 

He lazily rocked her on his lap, giving Lily far less friction than she needed as he tucked some loose hair behind her ear. “I bet you regret not giving me a chance in school now, huh?” he whispered arrogantly. 

Excuse me? First of all, fuck you. But Lily realized she didn’t need a second of all, because she simply just could. With more than a bit of anger, she ignored his words and instead pushed James’ torso down onto the mattress, hard, so that she could shag him with renewed vigor, ridding his stupid face from her sight in the hopes of coming with impunity. She ignored his knowing chuckles even as she appreciated the way his fingers came between them to rub her clit for her. 

She imagined him in the kitchen telling her to put him to use. She pictured him on his knees behind her willing to do whatever it took to please her. And yeah, fine, she envisioned the look on his face when he had realized back in school that she was not someone he could mess with — and then she came harder than she’d ever come in her life, her head thrown back and her nails digging deeply into his pecs.

She didn’t realize tears had welled in her eyes from the pleasure until James had flipped them back around and she could feel them trailing down her cheeks. 

“Do you mind if I come?” His hips were moving agonizingly slow, as though he was hedging his bets until he got a proper answer out of her.

“What?” Lily asked, not really understanding what was going on anymore.

“Can I come, please?” James repeated, the pleading tone of his voice knocking some sense into her. They were forehead to forehead, and Lily felt like he’d just shagged her so well that she needed to be that close to his desperation for it to actually register. 

“Sure,” Lily allowed, bonelessly melding into the mattress as James fucked her with everything he had, his thrusts solid and rough as he sought his own end. The bed groaned as he pounded away into her, her thighs widening to accommodate his brutal onslaught while her hands finally sunk into his hair.

He moaned, either from the way her cunt was squeezing him or from the way her nails scratched his scalp. “Lily…” His voice was pure even as his body destroyed her. 

“Fuck, James,” Lily whimpered. “Come. Come for me, please.” She wanted to watch him. She wanted to see him come undone.

“Thank you,” he breathed, his hand traveling up to clutch at her chin and hold her in place so he could kiss her as he spilled himself into her. His lips glided over hers, demanding yet soft, sweet yet sinful, and Lily felt powerless to their pull.

She fought to breathe when he finally let go, somehow overwhelmed and simultaneously left wanting as she realized their session had come to its inevitable conclusion. “You’re welcome,” she tried saying with a laugh. She wasn’t sure if it worked, but she knew her attempt at least helped to quell the weird butterflies he’d coaxed from her belly. His face was still hovering right above hers, so how the hell was she supposed to feel? She knew it was human nature to bond after sex. She also knew that it was in her best interest to deny this instinct. “You’re awfully polite when you shag.”

He chuckled as he began trailing kisses down her face, past her chin, and over her clavicle, and Lily secretly rejoiced that she hadn’t ruined the moment. She would love to experience the feel of having her tit being sucked on by his expert lips, and he was getting so awfully close, but perhaps she was being greedy. She had, after all, just come from a one night stand — and magnificently at that. She’d practically already hit the jackpot. 

“Is that a bad thing?” he murmured, his lips lingering just beneath her collarbone, and Lily felt a horrid tug a little lower under her left breast. 

“No,” she admitted, far more openly than she was used to as she forced a swallow. “It’s just not what I expected.”

He grinned, and the tug disappeared only to be replaced with a new one. A stronger one. ”You had expectations?” His body was crushing hers, and yet she couldn’t find it within herself to shove him off. 

“Well yeah. Sure. It’s hard not to think about when a boy invites me to his room.”

“Oh.” Was she imagining things, or did she just watch his whole body deflate in real time? Why was Lily suddenly struck by the strange notion that they were having two completely different conversations? 

Her awkward shifting prompted him to pull himself back and out of her. “Lemme get you a tissue.” James reached for his nightstand, grabbing one and turning back to her like he had every intention of cleaning her up himself. 

What the fuck? “I got it, thanks,” she cut him off, snatching the tissue and wiping away the trail of him she could feel leaking out of her. Sure, there was probably no sexy way to clean up post-coitus, but there was definitely a way where she could at least hold on to the last dredges of her propriety.

She’d choose that way. Every single time. 

“I’m just gonna go to the bathroom real quick,” she announced, hopping to her feet and making a dash for the door. At this point, she wasn’t even sure if she was acting strangely or if he was. She was pretty sure it was the latter. Well, it was him first, and then she was simply reacting accordingly. 

Lily sighed. Whatever it was, it truly didn’t matter, because they’d both gotten what they’d come for, hallelujah, and now Lily could be on her merry way and James could catch the very tail end of his best friend’s celebration of love without feeling like a single loser. Lily peed, put on her old clothes, splashed some water on her face, and was ready to go.

“Thank you for a lovely time, Potter,” she said cordially as she exited the bathroom, ready to pick up her bag and bounce.

“Oh… You’re leaving?”

Lily felt her neck physically crick as she looked up to find him sitting on the edge of his bed in his trunks, his elbows resting on his knees. Why was everything he was doing tonight surprising her? Why? She’d half expected him to already be gone. Leaving would have been a foolproof way to avoid any further awkwardness. What the fuck was off with her? She usually trusted her intuition so much. She was used to being right. “Yeah…” she began. “I have a shift in the morning. Turns out people like to schedule all their parties on the weekends.”

“Course.”

She hated the sudden tension in the room. But worse? She hated how hurt he looked. He opened and closed his mouth a couple times before he finally asked, “Can I owl you?”

Lily tucked a lock of her wild sex hair behind her ear, doing everything in her power to not remember all the ways he’d just disheveled it. Was this not a one-time thing? A ‘Hey, I had a crush on you in school but we were both idiots back then so it was nice to finally see what it could have been like?’ or a ‘I was really frustrated with my life, and you sort of represent everything bad in it (sorry about that), so this was a great way to work some of that tension out of my system’? Lily paused. She supposed it sounded a bit messed up when she phrased it to herself like that. 

“You don’t have to,” she eventually answered, wanting to let him know he really didn’t have to do the whole fake-chivalry act for her. She guessed it was sort of like what he’d said downstairs in the kitchen when she’d given him her customer service spiel: this was her. They knew each other. So why pretend like this night hadn’t been exactly what it was? She was fine knowing they’d merely shared a night of passion or whatever, and they could just leave it at that. He didn’t have to owl her the next day to absolve her conscience or anything. 

James stood up, looking her dead in the eye. A pulse of longing shot down Lily’s core like a lightning bolt. It was the first time all night he’d looked even partially ticked off. “I want to.”

Lily felt oddly nervous. She’d just fucked this man. He’d just come inside of her and she’d needed to clean the mess they’d made together from off of her thighs, so why was this the behavior that her body was deeming to be ‘too much’? She wanted to ask, ‘What do you want from me?’ but the declaration seemed far too melodramatic to utter out loud. At the same time… it was all she could think of. What was he doing? He’d gotten what he wanted… didn’t he know playtime was now over?

“Sure.” She swallowed thickly. “You can do whatever you like.”

He didn’t stop approaching her until he was standing directly in front of her, forcing her to look up at him. “Good. I will.”

She felt more exposed now than when her actual arse had been in his face. She could barely breathe as her eyes tracked the slight upturn of his lips as they slanted into a grin before getting lost in the golden specks of his irises. Why did it suddenly look like he’d won something? And why did it feel like what he’d won was a prize they both secretly wanted?

What had she done? 

“Okay.”

His smirk turned lethal. “See you, Evans.”

Lily backed away slowly, not knowing whether it was better to keep an eye on him, or to turn her back as quickly as possible to break whatever unnatural hold he had on her psyche. All she knew was that a few seconds later she had her spine pressed against the outside of his door and was wondering what the hell had just happened. 

Fuck.

[stranger-nightmare]

𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟐 𝐃𝐚𝐲 𝐓𝐰𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐲-𝐒𝐢𝐱 | 𝐅𝐖𝐁 𝐒𝐢𝐭𝐮𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐉𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐬 ’𝐁𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐲’ 𝐁𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐬

requested by 🧚🏻‍♀️anon

A/N: ahh it’s been a while since I’ve written for my beloved Bucky! thank you for the request darling, I really hope you like it!

“We- we should really stop doing this,” you pant heavily as your back arches, pushing against the wall in which Bucky was currently fucking you against.

The soldier chuckles darkly against your neck, his hips pounding into you even harder, hitting even deeper, your knees going weak.

“You say that every time,” he hums against your skin. “But you just can’t get enough, can you doll?”

You huff out a groan as you roll your eyes lightly. You hated to admit it but it was in fact true; you really couldn’t get enough of this. Of him. The way he fucked you so well, knowing exactly how to work your body after having done it a hundred times over. The way his hands gripped you just right, the cold metal of his hand biting into your skin, sending shivers through you every time. The way his cock filled you so well, dragging against your walls so perfectly. He was all consuming; addictive.

And you knew he felt the same; intoxicated by you, even if he refused to admit it. The sounds you made, the way you’d sigh his name so sweetly, his real name; James. The way your nails would rake down his skin. The way your pussy seemed to fit around him just right, perfectly wet and tight for him always. He thinks he could spend eternity buried inside you.

But he tried not to let himself think about that too much, about eternity. About the future he couldn’t have with you. The dangerous nature of his work meant he refused to let feelings get involved, for anything long-term to develop. Ultimately he knew both of you would just end up hurt. And so your relationship remained as this; friends who fucked. Not that you were necessarily complaining; he did always fuck you so well after all.

And yet... every now and again you’d catch a look on Bucky’s face that made you yearn for more, and made you question whether perhaps he yearned for that too.

It was always after you’d finished fucking, in the blissful moments just after your highs, when his eyes would meet yours. And there, right there in those ocean eyes of his, you swore you could see something in them. Something more. A kind of tenderness. Longing. It was a tenderness and softness that always seemed to appear within Bucky after you’d finished fucking. This sweet side of this hardened soldier that only you saw.

You tried to lie, telling yourself that the thorough dicking down he always provided was the only reason you kept coming back. But you knew that it was this, this look in his eyes, that was what you really couldn’t get enough of. That tiny glimpse into what could be. That small glimmer of hope; it was enough to keep you coming back over and over again....

Main Masterlist // Kinktober 2022 Masterlist

[eastwindmlk]

Another @jilymicro-oops and the conclusion of yesterdays story. Prompt: Daunting, Jan 30 Word count: 1163

Part on is here!

The wand pressed painfully into the base of Lily’s skull, forcing her to step out of the shadows. Joining the circle of wannabe Death Eaters gathered in the back of the library.

“Look what I found lurking.” Amycus sneered, all their eyes moving away from Sirius and to her. Being met with smirks and sneers. 

“You brought us a present? You shouldn’t have, brother.” Regulus sneered, a sadistic smile on his lips as his eyes raked over her body. “It is almost a shame to mess this one up, though; she’s a pretty one, at least.” 

Both Sirius and Severus took a step forward at this remark, both of them moving to protest for different reasons. 

“Are you telling me you have a thing for the bitch?” Rosier chuckled, casually draping his arm around his shoulder. 

“I'm just saying that if she'd taken your wand, I wouldn't have to look at your ugly mug every day,” she remarked, staring Rosier down. A tense silence swelled between them. Lily turned her wand in her fingers, trying to get a good grip on the handle. Getting ready to put up a fight. 

The laughter that finally broke the tension was jarring. Such a juxtaposition of what they were doing. From the sharp pain pricking at the base of her skull. 

She wanted to make them stop; she had to. The longer she stood there, the more daunting they became. 

All inching closer to her, eyes flashing maliciously. They were not going to just let her go, not without making their point first. 

Her jaw set, and her wand lifted. “140 points from Slytherin, 20 each. For being out after curfew and being disgusting,” she spat at them, but all they did was just laugh. 

The hot breath of Amycus Carrow beating against her ear. “Think we give a shit about your precious points, Mudblood? That is almost cute,” he hissed, twisting his wand sharply and making her wince. “Now, know your fucking place and drop that wand.” His hand landed hard on her shoulder, and he tried to force her down to her knees. 

That is when the first spell flew—a nasty Furnunculus curse—making the man behind her slack in his grip. Lily took this opportunity to step back on his insole and launch her elbow into his groin. Just for good measure. 

Her eyes scanned for where it had come from, finding Sirius grinning, but his wand was still slack in his grip. 

Seemingly out of nowhere, James appeared with a smirk on his face. Throwing her a quick look. Checking if she was alright before winking at her. 

“Nice one, Prongs!” Sirius complimented him, finally raising his own wand. Finally, all three are at the ready. With the three of them, it would be easy to take on the remaining six. Trusting that most of them were more bark than bite anyway. 

Mulciber seemed to come to the same conclusion pretty quickly. Dropping his hand to his side. “We’ll get them later,” he promised threateningly as he looked around, watching as most of them followed suit. “Let’s get out of here.” 

Just like that, the conversation seemed to diffuse; one by one, they filed away. Tails between their legs. 

Despite this, Lily did not feel like it had been a victory. The threat of later still hanging in the air. Certain that they would be more than eager to follow up and avenge this humiliation. Striking when they least expect it. 

She relaxed a little when Regulus finally abandoned his stare-off with his brother before skulking off into the darkness of Friday night. “Nice timing,” she complimented, brushing down her skirt. 

“I thought I told you to stay put. That it was dangerous.” His voice was stern, and his arms crossed over his chest tightly. His gaze was so intense, that she could not hold it. Her own eyes dropped to her hands. 

Things could have ended a lot worse if he had not shown up when he did. Which brought her back to the defensive. “If you hadn’t been late, we would have been fine,” she argued, and she was met with a heavy sigh. “What were you even doing?” 

“I was getting a professor to sort them out. We can’t have gatherings like this under this roof.” 

His wording made her frown. So, he had known what this was about all along? And he had not told her. “Maybe if you’d bothered telling me what was going on, I would not have.” Even she was not reckless enough to crash a meeting like this. 

They started to gather the materials that the snakes had left behind, hoping to find some more evidence for them to hand over to the headmaster later. “We only figured it out when I got here.” 

His explanation did not give her much to work with. How had they figured it out? What had given it away? As per usual, Sirius caught on to her confusion and paused his furious tapping of papers. “Sacram libera. It means to liberate the sacred. It wasn’t much of a leap from there.” 

A sour smile spread on Lily’s face when she realized it. “They really aren’t much for subtly, are they?” She scoffed, rubbing the sore spot on her beck and moving closer to help clear the table. 

“Neither are you, it seems,” Sirius replied, tucking the papers under his arm. “You could have been hurt. You’re lucky they wanted to torment you.” 

“You’re lucky I got there when I did,” James added, a tired look on his face. “You really should be more careful, Snaps.” 

Her face contorted at hearing the annoying old nickname. “Don’t you ‘Snaps’ me, Potter.” Her nostrils flared a little in irritation. She set her hands on her hips. “I am aware that I fucked up. There is no need for you two to gang up on me like that,” she huffed, blowing her bangs out of her face. 

There was an extended silence where the three of them exchanged looks instead of actually using words. Ended when Sirius casually pulled up his shoulders and clicked his tongue. “I think it is time for us to get sloshed.” 

Both of them wholeheartedly agreed with that. A drink would be just what they needed right now. Come morning, they’d likely be in Dumbledore’s office. She would much rather not think about that right now. 

It would just be another reminder of what was waiting for them once they were forced out of the relative safety of Hogwarts. The fight was waiting for them. 

And for the first time since learning about The Order, Lily found herself reluctant to enter the battlefield. Her Gryffindor's courage wavered long enough to feel shaken. 

At least, knowing that she could always count on having friends coming to her rescue when she really needed them. The trust she has in them makes it possible for her to keep up the fight.