#era: post Hogwarts

[idreamofdraco]

UPDATE: THE DATING CHARADE (CHAPTER 22)

SUMMARY: When a case of workplace sexual harassment leaves Ginny in a truly desperate state, the natural thing to do is to convince Draco Malfoy to pretend to be her boyfriend. Naturally. RATING: M (FFN) / Extremely Naughty (FIA) / Explicit (AO3) GENRE: Humor/Romance/Smut LENGTH: 120,000~ words STATUS: 22/22 chapters, COMPLETE SNIPPET:

As the sun began to set, Ginny was starving again. She’d let Draco make dinner reservations for one night of the trip, preferring more casual dining options for the rest of their meals to feel more like native Parisians and less like highbrow tourists. He wouldn’t tell her where they were eating, but he must have been famished, too, because he was hurrying her along as if he couldn’t wait to arrive at the restaurant. She began to suspect their destination when they entered an intersection and all of a sudden, in the distance but larger than life still, the Eiffel Tower greeted them on the other side of the Seine. The sight of it took her breath away. The last time she’d been in Paris, she had not had an opportunity to sightsee between attending a conference and dodging Jason Junker.

READ HERE: AO3 (explicit version) | FFN (censored version)

[canicules]

hello marauders tumblr i’m entering the arena with a wolfstar doodle :)

[megwritesriddles]

I Despise You ༊*·˚

18+ MDNI !!!

Pairing: Tom Riddle x Fem!Reader / You

Summary: Kinktober 2024 Day 1 - Angry Sex. Reader is the Head Girl and Riddle is the Head Boy, Riddle likes to push Reader's boundaries until it all boils over. Minimal plot but a smidge anyway.

Tags: Angry sex, P in V, Fingering (fem receiving), Unprotected sex, Magic as birth control, Enemies with benefits, Arguing (which is badly written oops), Attempt at angst, Tiny bit of sexism from Riddle, Reader is wearing a dress (I imagined one of those Sabrina Carpenter babydoll dresses lol), Head boy Riddle, Head girl Reader, Historical inaccuracy.

Word count: 3.4k

Read it on ao3! | Masterlist

Authors note: First installment of Kinktober and first post on tumblr!! woo!! please show me some love if you like it!! I am terrible at writing arguments because I hate confrontation irl oops!! Hope you like it anyway mwah ( ◕◡◕)っ ♡

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Being appointed as Head Girl was supposed to be the best thing to ever happen to you. You’d been working toward it since at least the third year and it was all you ever seemed to hope for. It was meant to be an achievement that you and your friends would all celebrate, perhaps head down to the Three Broomsticks and spoil you with free drinks for the night in honour of your achievement. But, life wasn’t so kind.

When your position as Head Girl was announced all you had received from your friends were pitying looks, all due to the pesky little detail of who had been announced as Head Boy to serve alongside you. Tom Riddle. Tom. Fucking. Riddle. Of course, Professor Dippett had had to announce his name first, meaning you hadn’t even gotten a second of enjoyment from your appointment. He had stood up smugly at the Slytherin table, basking in the cheers from his house, flashing a charming smile to the room as he made his way to the front of the hall. For the first time in your life, at that moment, you had prayed that Head Girl would not be you. It was. Your name was called, your house applauded and your legs carried you over to Riddle’s side. He grinned down at you, that little glint of mockery in his eye that you could only see from this close. You wanted to punch him, that would surely lose you the Head Girl position and solve this problem, but you had your future to think of. You had repeated that to yourself all that night as you and Riddle had been whisked off to the staff room to be briefed on your positions and given your badges. Riddle was the picture of charm, laughing with the various professors that came to speak with you, you just sat there, smiling falsely, looking a little like you’d just been hit over the head with a plank. You felt like it too. Your lifelong dream had just been turned into something poisonous. Really, you thought to yourself as Slughorn guided you through the corridors to the Head’s quarters, you should have seen this coming. They weren’t supposed to appoint two students from the same house, so logically, if you were picked for Head Girl, it was only ever going to be Riddle at your side. You wondered why you hadn’t considered this before, it was so obvious with hindsight. You scowled at the back of his and Slughorn’s heads as you ascended some stairs, them chatting together jovially, making your blood boil.

Slughorn shows you the small common room, enough seating for about four people, a fireplace, and a little kitchenette with some stools, decorated with opulence. It would all have been very nice if it hadn’t been for Riddle standing there commenting on the lovely brass crests. The separate rooms were your biggest comfort, both off of little halls from the common room in different directions. You could hide in there from him, you told yourself over and over. You didn’t have the headspace to be impressed by the beautiful ensuites with golden-tapped baths, just wanting Slughorn to leave so you would no longer have to listen to Riddle’s disgustingly smooth voice. Eventually, Slughorn did leave the two of you to go to bed. As he shut the common room door, you could see Riddle’s mouth opening from the corner of your eye. You darted to your room before he could get the words out, slamming the door, relieved to find all your things already there. You collapsed onto the bed and sighed. The nightmare was only beginning.

The hands on the clock point to 3:30 am. It’s a Monday morning, you have a meeting with Dumbledore in just a few hours, but sleep is impossible. He has friends over again. The deep bass of their voices reverberates through the walls of the common room. They’re chatting and laughing like always, most likely drinking too, you’ve spotted them with whiskey a few times. You seethe with anger in your bed, just last week you had kindly approached him, and not for the first time, about this issue. You had emphatically asked him to be considerate of you and your time. He had placated you like always.

“Yes darling, I didn’t realise we were being so bothersome, won’t happen again,” he had soothed, but of course, it was happening again right now. You kept somehow getting caught in his charms, the very ones you had been immune to for so long. It had to be the sleep deprivation he was causing, that was what was making you melt a little whenever he called you darling or smiled just so, in the way that used to make you feel sick. In the dark of your room, you lie on your side and curse inwardly. Reporting him had crossed your mind many times, but you knew he would just charm his way out of it, like he did with everything. Your ears rumble with another deep laugh from the group of men in the other room and you’ve had enough. Throwing off your duvet and stomping to your bedroom door, you fling it open and head into the common room. He sits reclined leisurely in an armchair by the fireplace, his sleeves rolled up and tie loose. His ankles are crossed, resting on the coffee table in front of him, he chuckles at something, you couldn’t care less what, the firelight dancing over his face. He hasn’t noticed you, but across from him on the opposite armchair, his friend, Avery, straightens up and grins at you. His eyes drift over you, you realise instantly that you stomped out here in only your nightgown and socks and flush lightly, but stand your ground.

“Riddle!” you bark, surprising even yourself with the viciousness of your tone. This brings his attention to you effectively. His other two friends turn to look at you over the back of the sofa, Riddle doesn’t even straighten up when he looks up at you, smirking in a self-satisfied way that makes your insides twist oddly.

“Hello darling,” he speaks smoothly. “You look a picture tonight,” he lets his eyes drift up and down your figure without shame. You go red with anger and embarrassment.

“Doesn't she just?” One of his friends, Rosier, comments with a mocking chuckle. This sets you off.

“Out!” You screech. All the boys look taken aback by the intensity of your outburst. “Out, out, out!”

“Fine,” Riddle hisses in an infuriatingly calm tone. “You lot should go, you heard the Head Girl,” you hear the mocking tone in his voice, suggesting he thinks you’re hysterical. You stand there with your fists clenched, staring the men down as they get up and head for the door, feeling ridiculous but not wanting to show any weakness. Once they all leave and shut the door behind them, the two of you fall into silence for a moment. He’s watching you, but not in the leering way from earlier, he almost looks impressed with you. You avert your eyes from the closed door onto his face, he’s leaning forward now, with his elbows on his knees. Just when you’re considering simply turning to leave, he speaks up. “Happy now, darling? You’re really no fun, we were only talking,” his eyes fix on yours, burning deeply. You scoff indignantly.

“It’s nearly 4 am Riddle, you know I have a meeting in the morning, I have brought this up to you countless times and–”

“Yes, but you don’t seem to understand that I simply don’t care to keep you happy, darling,” he grins. You let out a frustrated yelp.

“You are unbelievable! How were you ever chosen for Head Boy when you're this insidious? You don’t deserve it!” You snap. This stirs something in him. His eyes darken and he stands up from the armchair.

“And you do, do you darling?” he asks slowly, stalking toward you. “You’re the picture of perfection, aren’t you just?” You’re not sure what to say to this, any answer seems wrong like it’ll give him reason to dig into you further. Your mouth opens and shuts for a moment before you settle on a shrug. Your hands flex in the fists they’re tightened into as a smirk spreads over his face. “You don’t seem so high and mighty from here,” he chuckles, stopping in front of you. He has several inches on you and you’re forced to look up at him. “You look lovely in this little nightie,” he comments with a grin, reaching out to trace the lace at the strap with the tip of his finger. You jolt away instantly, glaring up at him.

“Don’t you dare touch me! And don’t you dare comment on my looks!” You hissed, smacking his hand away. His eyes darken even more at this.

“And don’t you dare smack me,” he growls. “I was merely paying you a compliment,”

“Like hell you were!” You scoff. “You’re trying to make me feel small,” he rolls his eyes, shaking his head.

“If the shoe fits,” he grins. You scowl, shoving at him without thinking about it. He stumbles back slightly, looking momentarily bewildered. When he realises what you just did he surges for you. He grabs you by the shoulders and pushes you into the wall. You let out a small oof sound as you collide with the wall, surprised it didn’t hurt more than it did. For a moment, you wonder if he had avoided hurting you until you look up and see the fire in his eyes, then you wonder if he wishes he had just killed you. “I would have rather had literally anyone as Head Girl than you, you are the bane of my existence,” he snarls, gripping your shoulders hard.

“I’m the bane of your existence? I don’t have friends over until the small hours of the morning! Imagine how I feel!” You spit back. You can tell he’s barely listening to you.

“You are insufferable! You’re the only person who doesn’t fawn over the sight of me and it’s you that I get stuck with for the whole year!” he scoffs. “I will not let you control my lifestyle!” he adds angrily. “I will not bend my life to make you happy! I am not subservient to anyone and I never will be!” you roll your eyes exaggeratedly.

“You are ridiculous,”

“I despise you,” he hisses venomously. “You’re always everywhere I am, you’re always following me around, tailing me in every subject, you had to go for this position when I’ve had my sights locked on it since first year!” He pushes you back into the wall again. “Are you happy now darling? You got Head Girl and now we’re both miserable! You must be thrilled!”

“You think I’m following you around?” you sneer. “How full of yourself are you that you think me going for Head Girl was about you? You seem to think you’re the centre of everything, but in my life Riddle, you are just an inconvenience, you are nothing,” you seethed. Something flashes in Riddle’s eyes, his jaw working.

“I am nothing?” he demands. “I am nothing?” he’s shaking now and you’re sure he’s about to hex you or punch you, his eyes flick between yours, his whole body coiled tight and ready to pounce. Instead, his lips are suddenly on yours, thrusting your head back against the wall. You yelp in surprise, your eyes wide, the back of your head hurting from being pressed into the hard surface. He kisses you without a single hint of affection, kissing you like it’s a punishment, a way of muzzling you, but Merlin, somehow it feels good. He’s grabbing at you, taking fistfuls of your nightgown in his hands. You find that you’re kissing him back, that you have been practically since his lips met yours and that you’re doing so eagerly. Your head is spinning as his arms wrap around you and he pulls you harshly to him, the hard planes of his lean body pressing against you. Your arms snake around his neck and he lets you yank at his hair. He’s kissing you so hard that you’re practically tipping backwards. Your tongues rub against each other as you kiss frantically. He’s leading you to the sofa, throwing you down and then settling above you. He props himself up, his hands on either side of your head. You both take this moment to catch your breaths, staring intensely at each other as your chests rise and fall rapidly. “Am I still nothing?” he growls, a little breathless. Once again, you don’t know what the right thing to say is. One of his hands moves down and starts to push up the hem of your nightdress, revealing your thighs to his devouring eyes. You grab him and kiss him again instead of talking, just as hard and unforgiving as before.

You feel your nightdress being bunched at your waist and hear the faint sound of a zip being pulled down. You kiss him harder, nipping at his bottom lip harshly and scrunching your eyes shut. He just groans in response, pushing down his slacks haphazardly, his other hand keeping him propped up above you. You’re suddenly awfully overheated, both from lying on the sofa in front of the blazing fireplace and from the realisation of what he’s planning to do to you. Are you really going to do this? Are you really going to let him fuck you on the sofa in the common room? Riddle? The man you’ve hated for years? The man who has been deliberately antagonising you for the past several weeks, and especially tonight? Your hands are resting on his stomach, and you connect the dots in mild horror that you’ve been unbuttoning his shirt without even realising it. You feel completely out of control of yourself, you’ve never acted this way before. You gasp in surprise when you feel his fingers pressing against your core through the fabric of your underwear. His fingers rub roughly, sending jolts of pain and pleasure through you. You whine slightly, feeling him smirk against your lips. You scratch at his chest a little in retaliation. He grunts, you can’t tell if he likes it or not and it bothers you. His fingers hook into your underwear and start to tug down. This is your last chance to back out, to throw him off of you and run away, but you find yourself unable to do anything but writhe and cling to his shoulders. The underwear is discarded on the floor and he is using his free hand to spread your thighs open, you flush deeply as he pulls away from the kiss to look down at you. You can feel how wet you are and you hate that, based on the smug little grin on his face, he knows it too. Your cheeks are burning as he reaches down, using two fingers to spread your folds. He lets out a needy sound by accident and it’s your turn to gloat. He flashes you a glare and plunges a finger into your tight heat in revenge. This makes your back arch and your lips part and he smirks back at you.

“So wet…” he comments, self-satisfied, his finger creating obscene squelches as he pumps it in and out of you slowly. You snarl at him, lashing out in embarrassment. You grab at the tent in his boxers, feeling him rock-hard under the fabric. He frowns in embarrassment, withdrawing his finger from you which makes you whimper a little. “You’re asking for it now, darling,” he growls. He’s scrambling to rid himself of his boxers. His tip is quickly prodding at your entrance and you gasp and arch slightly. He glides against you for a moment, his tip rubbing deliciously at your clit, seeming like he’s waiting for something. Then, he’s plunging into you. You let out a pathetic little cry and he grins. “Does that feel good?” he coos mockingly as he fully seats himself inside you. You both gasp for breath as your tight heat embraces him. It does feel good, torturously so, but his mocking tone irks you.

“I hate you,” you growl up at him as he lowers himself onto his elbows, his face right above yours. He scowls, panting slightly.

“I hate you too, believe me,” his arms wrap around your shoulders, keeping you in place. He buries his face in your neck and starts to nip as his hips begin to rock harshly. His thrusts are hard and punishing, slow, withdrawing almost completely and then slamming forward, just short of painful. You whine and grab at his back, letting your nails dig into him, he doesn’t seem to mind. He speeds up, grunting loudly against your neck. He pulls back to watch as you move along with his thrusts, your eyes scrunched shut and lips parted with desperate whines. He pants, his hot breaths washing over your face. He speeds up even more, growling like a crazed animal. “Look at you, falling apart under me, what would your friends think?” he taunts. Your eyes squeeze tighter shut, a wave of shame passing through you that somehow heightens your pleasure.

“Shut the fuck up,” you whine. You hear him laughing mockingly. You muster your strength and clench your walls around him. His laugh morphs into a choked groan at the sensation, his hips stuttering. He was more affected by this than you expected, his pace now brutal as he fucks into you, clearly desperately chasing release now, rather than focusing on playing mind games on you. His lips meet yours again and you kiss back. It’s clumsy and sloppy, given how fast he’s moving, but it just heightens everything you’re feeling. “You gonna come already?” you mock as you feel him faltering in his thrusts. He groans angrily against your lips.

“I despise you,” he hisses shakily, propping himself back up so he can thrust into you more relentlessly. You return the sentiment, but it’s a little half-hearted now between whines. You cry out when you feel his thumb on your clit, rubbing hard. He seems oddly determined to have you orgasm before he does, perhaps to humiliate you, but it feels so good that you can hardly complain. He grunts loudly, you can tell he’s trying to goad you, but his speech is incoherent between sounds of pleasure and the slapping of skin against skin. You feel it building up and you can’t deny yourself the pleasure, you don’t try to hold back. However, he still falls apart first. His hips stutter then stop entirely and he groans loudly, you feel his seed spilling deep into you, warm ropes painting your inside. His thumb doesn’t let up its rubbing and it allows you to also reach your release. You pulse around his oversensitive cock and he gasps and whines pathetically, but continues rubbing you through it until all the aftershocks are over.

He remains propped above you, catching his breath for a while, his head hung low. You both whine slightly as he withdraws from you slowly, leaving you with a pop. He takes a shaky breath, staring at his essence that trickles out of you. You just stare at the ceiling, unsure what to do now. You feel the sofa dip as he reaches down to the floor, his chest touching yours as he lowers himself gently. He grabs his wand from his trouser pocket and props back up. He mumbles a spell, cleaning you of his essence and eliminating the chance of pregnancy. It pleases you a little that he took care of it, rather than leaving it up to you. He moves, sitting back on his haunches between your legs, lowering the hem of your nightdress to cover you back up. You stare at each other silently for a moment as he tucks himself away.

“This changes nothing between us,” he asserts, narrowing his eyes at you. You want to laugh at that, as clearly everything has just changed in some way, but you know what he means.

“Yeah, it changes nothing,” you repeat with a sigh. He glances over at the fireplace for a moment, before his eyes flick to the clock on the mantelpiece.

“Now chop chop, don’t you have that meeting with Dumbledore?” he grins. Your eyes widen and then you kick at him in frustration, realising what he’s done. He just laughs. “You better figure out a way to cover those hickeys quickly,” he smirks. You whine indignantly, burying your head in your hands.

“I’m going to kill you!”

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xoxoxo

[slightly-more-valid-prongs]

evan: *staring at the third plant he’s killed this week* barty: for someone whose last name is rosier, you sure are fucking useless at keeping plants alive.

[choccy-milky]

HAPPY LATE BDAY TO @the-ozzie's MILLIE 🎉 crackhead collage of her and clora bc theyre besties💖👯

[daddiesdrarryy]

James: We’re having iced tea. You want some, honey?

Regulus: What did you say?

James: We’re having iced tea. You want some honey?

Regulus: …sure

[bimoonphases]

@wolfstarmicrofic July 24 - prompt 24: Kid Fic [word count 954]

Sirius checked his tie in the mirror by the main door for the third time. He had hated suits and ties since childhood, when he had been forced to wear them, but this time there was no escaping it. He needed to make the best impression. He was terrified.

“Are you planning to seduce the headmistress, my love?”

Remus looked him up and down with a smile while he put on his own jacket. Sirius’s eyes widened.

“Is it too much? Do I need to change?”

“Pads,” Remus said softly. “We’ve just been called up to the school, I’m sure it’s nothing to worry about.”

“We’ve been called there because our daughter punched another kid.”

“And I’m sure there’s an explanation for that.”

Sirius sighed and followed Remus out of their cottage and through the streets leading to the primary school. He really was terrified. Everybody in the village had come to know Remus, his gentle demeanour, his willingness to help every time there was a medical problem because he had ‘studied medicine a long time ago’ which only meant he was able to distract the muggles long enough to use small healing charms on them. Sirius, on the other hand, knew he was the the handsome stay-at-home husband of Mr Lupin, the one who picked up his kids on a motorbike and wrote them excuses to skip school after a full moon. And now that Estelle had apparently punched a kid, he would be the father who didn’t know how to raise his own daughter. Anwell had never done anything like that since he had started school. Despite his black hair and almost silver eyes, the boy had Remus’s countenance, always his head in a book and helping others. While Estelle, despite being barely six and having a head of curly brown hair almost identical to Remus’s, had Sirius’s temper. Sirius shivered as they went through the school gates. What if he had failed in making her forget those three first months of her life in an abusive family? Worse, what if he had somehow managed to raise a mini version of his own mother, prone to violence and cruelty?

Remus took him by the hand as they walked inside the building, a helpful secretary immediately pointing them in the direction of the headmistress’s office. Sirius swallowed and tried to appear calm as Remus knocked.

“Come in.”

As they walked in, the headmistress rose from her seat and came to shake their hands. Estelle was in a chair in front of her desk, arms crossed.

“Misters Lupin, thank you for coming in,” the headmistress smiled. “Please, sit down.”

They took their places, on each side of their daughter. Sirius’s heart felt as if it was beating in his throat.

“Now, Mister Lupin and Mister Lupin,” the headmistress started. “In this school we condemn violence in all its forms. Estelle punched one of her classmates, and the only reason I’ve asked you here before deciding on a punishment is because she refuses to tell us why. I believe in hearing both sides, and Michael said he was just playing outside when Estelle punched him.”

“Why did you do it?” Remus asked, turning to the little girl.

Estelle stared resolutely at the floor, her lips a thin line.

“Estelle Hope Euphemia Lupin,” Sirius sighed. “Tell us what happened, will you?”

Estelle shook her head and Sirius’s heart beat faster.

“She’s never done anything like this, I don’t understand,” he said quickly. “There must be something else.”

“I agree, I hoped her fathers could get her to tell us what,” the headmistress nodded.

“Come on, ma petite étoile, dis-nous,” Sirius switched to French in the hopes to have a reaction, but without success.

He looked at Remus over their daughter’s head when there was a knock on the door.

“Come in,” the headmistress said.

The door opened and Anwell walked in, his hand firmly around another boy’s arm.

“Hi Dad, hello Papa,” he smiled. “Headmistress, Michael has something to confess,” he added with all the seriousness his ten years of age could muster.

“I was chasing Violet to lift her skirt,” the boy said. “She was crying, it was funny.”

Sirius shuddered. So little, and yet… He looked at his daughter.

“Is this why you didn’t tell us?” he asked.

Finally, Estelle looked up at him, her eyes filled with anger.

“Violet is still crying in the bathroom and doesn’t want to come out,” she said. “I wasn’t going to tell on her.”

Sirius just nodded, and the headmistress sighed.

“Well, in these circumstances… You can all go. Not you Michael, you’re staying and I’m calling your parents. And Violet’s.”

Sirius waited until they were out of the building to take Estelle in his arms.

“I’m so proud of you,” he whispered in her hair as she hugged him back.

“I am too,” Remus nodded. “Of the both of you. We should never resort to violence, but some people only understand that language.”

“How did you convince Michael to tell what had really happened?” Sirius asked, putting Estelle back on the ground.

“It was easy,” Anwell shrugged. “I just told him Estelle would punch him again if he didn’t and make him spit out all his new teeth.”

“I could do with some of the old ones too,” Estelle smiled, taking her brother’s hand.

Sirius watched them skip in the direction of home, a mixture of pride and dread in his veins.

“Don’t you think…” Remus started delicately.

“Yes. They definitely have some Black in them,” Sirius nodded, before taking his husband’s hand. “Thankfully, there’s a lot of Lupin in there to contrast it.”

They kissed in front of the school before hurrying after their children.

[marauderstars]

Remus: Exactly how dumb does Regulus think you are?

James: Sometimes he leaves me pictures of food instead of a shopping list.

[rewritingcanon]

What would you say are your more controversial opinions about the hp characters?

ohhhh okayyy. i feel like my opinions on a lot of the characters aren’t controversial because i dont feel super strongly towards anyone in any negative light but here are some i could think of at the top of my head:

i’m glad the malfoys faced more extreme backlash after the second wizarding war. a lot of people in the fandom seem to be very sympathetic towards draco and scorpius for getting dogpiled with the brunt of it (which yeah, it sucks, especially for scorpius) but the prejudice makes complete make sense to me. if i was someone who didn’t know scorpius’ character, and had someone from my family get killed in the second war due to death eaters or something— seeing the malfoys still be wealthy and walk around freely without any jailtime, i would be bitter too. they’re hated on but they’re still one of the richest families ever, so they’ll live LOL

another anon has asked about this and i haven’t responded to them yet but when i do i will link it here for my reasons. basically: the best character in the cursed child is harry potter. i think the way they wrote his character and ptsd carried the play. it was def his story, not albus’.

i do think dumbledore has some aspects of him that may be considered morally gray, but mostly i dont think he is. he does everything for the good of the world, and his complete selflessness leads him to sacrifice anything for it— even himself and the people he loves, when necessary. i completely understand why people wouldn’t agree with his methods though.

james potter isn’t a sunshine character he’s a dickhead. fans of him made him a golden retriever character to be more palatable for modern times. i like him the way he is: an asshole and then less of an asshole 👍 this is what true stanning looks like

pansy parkinson is racist and out of all the female side characters, developing HER is so questionable from fandom

harry had questionable descriptions about a lot of male characters to make people think he could be a little 🏳️‍🌈 there was bill, there was sirius, there was cedric. but draco is not a part of that list. harry was not feeling draco whatsoever throughout the series but drarry shippers cling to that one ‘obsessed’ line

furthermore, harry rejecting draco’s offer of friendship wasn’t a sad or a ‘what if’ scene. draco was being a classist piece of shit and harry didnt want to fuck with that, there isnt any way in any timeline he wouldve accepted draco’s friendship.

slytherin sucks just generally lol. people want so bad to pluck anti-heroes out of a series that was written specifically with the mind to make all the characters suck.

hermione and ron’s drama isn’t as toxic as people make it out to be. yes, this includes the time hermione sent birds after him. people act like its the end of the world but she was tackling puberty and the end of society soooo i give her a pass to tweak out.

mostly every harry potter character has horrific names. like literally mostly everyone. even the name harry potter 🙁

movie romione wasn’t that bad LOL

severus snape’s ‘redemption’ or whatever was so ass. he bullies kids for five years and then everything is chill because… true love? on harry’s mum? are you kidding me 💀

weasley family angst goes hard but people (especially percy stans and some ron&ginny stans) acting like they’re the most toxic family to walk the earth make me want to rip my hair out and eat it. molly loves her kids guys shes not evil. jesus.

genuinely trying to think of more but i can’t right now…. maybe i will reblog and add to it. i feel like most of my opinions aren’t that controversial though 😭

[lulublack90]

Prompt 8 - Teenagers

@wolfstarmicrofic July 8, word count 868

Sirius flopped dramatically onto Remus’s bed. 

“Get off, Padfoot!” Remus grumbled, nudging him with his feet. He was too tired to outright shove him, but he was in no mood to deal with him. Everything ached. It had been a bad moon last night and all he wanted was to sleep. But the others didn’t know about his furry little secret, and he had to keep it that way. 

He had a few half-healed wounds on his back and chest and having Sirius bounce on his bed had definitely knocked the scabs loose on a few. “Can’t you go find Prongs or Wormtail and annoy them?” He sank back into his pillow, unable to hold himself up any more. 

“I’d rather annoy you,” Sirius grinned at him, flipping over so he was inches away from Remus. 

Remus reared back, his neck cracking angrily as his body protested at the sudden movement. “Hey, calm down, Moony,” Sirius reached out to him, but Remus didn’t want to be touched. 

“JUST LEAVE ME ALONE!!!” Remus screamed. He felt the magic leaving his body before he could do anything about it. 

Sirius flew from Remus’s bed and collided with the bedpost of Peter’s bed. “Sirius, Sirius, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean…” Remus was crying as he dragged himself to Sirius’s side. “Sirius, I’m so sorry,” His hands flailed in front of him, not daring to touch Sirius until he said it was okay. 

“Hey, hey, shhhh, it’s okay Remus, see.” Sirius cradled Remus’s head in his hands, wiping his tears away with his thumbs. “I should have known better not to push you after a full moon, I just wanted to take your mind off it.” 

Remus froze, his eyes widening in horror when he realised what Sirius had just said. This was it then? It had finally happened, someone had figured it out. He supposed it had only been a matter of time before someone did. He’d have to pack his belongings and go back to that damp Welsh cottage where his Father couldn’t bear to look at him and his Mother didn’t understand. He’d be locked in that silver-lined bunker Lyall had dug in their garden, where he was chained to the floor and left until the morning. His mother cried every time Lyall brought him back into the kitchen and attempted to heal the claw marks that marred his skin. Well, Hogwarts was good while it lasted. He’d managed a year and a half at least. He wondered if they’d snap his wand. He thought he’d freak out when this happened, but he just felt sad. Sad that he’d be alone again and that he’d lose the friends he held so dear all over something he couldn’t even help. “Come on let’s get you back into bed, yeah,” Sirius said gently. Remus shook his head, snapping himself out of his tumultuous thoughts. 

“What do you mean? I need to start packing and owl my Dad to come get me.” He started to collect his books and parchment, tossing them into his open trunk. His legs wobbled, he needed to lie down. He bit back a sob when he thought about the long walk and all the stairs up to the owlery that he’d need to climb once he’d finished packing. 

Sirius crossed the room and slammed Remus’s trunk shut. 

“What in Merlin’s beard are you on about?!” Sirius asked, a bewildered expression on his face. 

“I’m leaving. Dumbledore said I can only stay as long as my secret is kept. You know, so it’s not a secret any more.” Remus explained, opening his trunk again. 

“No,” Sirius slammed the truck closed again. “It’s still a secret, I’m just in on it,” A crooked smile tugged at the side of his mouth. “That means you can stay.” He said determinedly. 

“You want me to stay? Sirius, I’m a werewolf, you can’t want me here,” The tears were back. Sirius wrapped his arms around him and hugged him tightly. Remus didn’t have the energy or the desire to make him let go. 

“I will always want you, Remus. You’re my best friend and I refuse to let them take you away from me.” He pulled his head back and looked into Remus’s watery eyes. “That and how cool is it to have a werewolf as a roommate?” 

Sirius started asking question after question about what it was like to be a werewolf. Where did he go each month? Who else knew? What did he do in the holidays? How long had he been a werewolf? He didn’t stop until James and Peter came looking for them, their hands piled high with sandwiches. 

“Aww, aren’t they cute,” James snickered when he saw Remus and Sirius sitting close to each other on Remus's bed, Sirius holding one of his hands. “We brought you lunch,” He told them as Remus snatched his hand back. “We know how ravenous you get after you transform,” James said matter-of-factly. Remus shook his head and got into bed. Nope, he thought, that is a problem for future Remus, as he let his exhausted body fall asleep, to the excited murmurings of his far, far too clever friends. 

[hyperfocuscentre]

now, what the fuck-

[idreamofdraco]

UPDATE: THE DATING CHARADE (CHAPTER 21)

SUMMARY: When a case of workplace sexual harassment leaves Ginny in a truly desperate state, the natural thing to do is to convince Draco Malfoy to pretend to be her boyfriend. Naturally. RATING: M (FFN) / Extremely Naughty (FIA) / Explicit (AO3) GENRE: Humor/Romance/Smut LENGTH: 118,000~ words STATUS: 21/22 chapters SNIPPET:

Inside the shop, Draco browsed the shelves looking for ideas for a Christmas gift for Ginny, until he came to a display of broomsticks at the back of the store. The newest model of Firebolt had been released earlier this year and had a beautiful walnut handle that was polished to a high shine. He could see Ginny riding this broom, laughing and carefree now that she was unburdened by Junker’s mistreatment and a job that didn’t care about her. But it was an expensive gift and he didn’t want to embarrass her with it. The money meant nothing to him. He had saved up quite a lot while working at the Ministry and living at Malfoy Manor. Besides the earnings he’d made over the last few years, he still had his inheritance from his grandparents that he had never touched. Draco could buy new houses and top of the line broomsticks for every person in the Weasley family and still wouldn’t make a dent in his bank vault. Money was just something for him to spend, and he wished he could spend it on Ginny’s happiness. He let his hand drop from stroking the broomstick handle, an idea beginning to form. Maybe he could give Ginny a meaningful gift, a gift she couldn’t refuse, while spending a train-load of his money on her. He ran a hand through his hair, his mind racing as he considered how to make his idea come to life without insulting Ginny or crossing a line. He would need help. Unfortunately, the person in the best position to help him was the one person he loathed to ask. But Draco would do anything for Ginny. Even ask Harry Potter for help.

READ HERE: AO3 (explicit version) | FFN (censored version)

[hoomandoescosplay]

Rivals To Lovers | Regulus Black x Reader Oneshot

The air around us is thick with anticipation for the game. As my teammates and I are getting ready we chatter excitedly about the game. Games against Slytherin are always enjoyable since both teams always get fueled with competitive rivalry.

I feel a strong pat on my back and look up to see James grinning at me. “Kick Black’s ass for all of us, got it?” I grin back at him. James is always the one who is pumping us all up before matches, and it works wonders for our morale.

He always makes sure we are fully prepared for our opponents regardless of the house we’re facing. I nod my head vigorously as I get more excited. Regulus and I have always been known to get on each other's nerves especially when it comes to us both fighting for the Snitch.

Some of the others cheer at James’s words and I can’t help but laugh. I absolutely adore everyone on the team and how supportive they all are. I put on my last bit of gear as Marlene walks up to me.

She gives me a wink and pats me on the back. "You ready to kick some ass?" A grin forms on her face, clearly excited for the game about to start.

“You know it.” I grin back at her. Marlene gives a loud cheer causing our other teammates to look in our direction. I see Sirius snicker from across the room as James rounds us up into a circle.

He gives us all one last pep talk before ushering us out onto the field. We all exit the locker rooms and line up, our brooms in our hands. We face the other team as they mirror us. The sky is clear, no sign of rain. Our last match against Slytherin was horrid with how bad the rain was coming down.

The crowd is going wild already, the stands packed with people. Regulus and I make eye contact as he finds his place in front of me. The air between us has the usual charge of tension as we look at each other.

I can see the competitive fire in his eyes and it's clear he wants nothing more than to win. He gives me a slight nod, his face stoic as ever. I nod back at him in return before getting my broom in the proper position. I can tell this will be a fun game. Our eyes break away for each other as we see the referee getting ready to throw the Quaffle into the air.

“Hope you prepared to lose this match Black.” I say with a smirk as the Quaffle goes up and all of the players immediately get on their brooms and begin to fly in the stadium.

I watch the Quaffle get hit back and forth as my eyes scan for any sight of the Snitch. The cheers fluctuate in volume anytime one of the teams is close to getting a point but I do my best to block it out.

My mind was so focused on finding the Snitch that I didn’t even realize someone was next to me at first. I jump at the sound of Regulus' voice. “See anything yet.”

I turn my head to look at him. “Do you honestly think I’d give you an answer to that question?” He smirks at my response, making me glare at him slightly.

“It seems as though (Y/N) and Regulus are starting their little feud a bit early in the match today.” Remus says from the announcer stand, catching my attention.

I have to hold back a smile. Comments like that usually get on my nerves cause it puts more attention on Regulus and I but for once it was helpful.

“Nice chat but I’ll be going now, Black.” I say before zooming off to trail the Snitch. Thank you Remus for helping me find it. I chuckle slightly as I hear him curse under his breath.

Regulus is very competitive. Almost as much as I am which makes these games even more enjoyable. The seekers on the Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff teams are good but Regulus is the closest to my skill level. He makes me actually want to put effort into winning.

I can feel him gaining on me making me speed up a bit more, my eyes never leaving the Snitch. The air around us nearly hums with our energy as we weave through the other players.

A small gasp comes out of my mouth as I stop my broom short. I blink rapidly as the Quaffle just barely misses me. I scan the area to see one of the Slytherin beater’s snickers.

All of the Gryffindors watching the match begin to boo, causing the Slytherin side to get even more riled up. I hear James call out to me from his position but I can’t hear him over all of the noise. “What?” I say, my own voice getting drowned out. He repeats himself as I read his lips. “You alright?” I nod my head and give him a thumbs up.

Regulus fly’s up next to me again. As I glance at him I can tell he’s extremely pissed off. "That was on purpose." He says as his jaw clenches slightly. "That bastard was deliberately aiming for you."

I let out a small sigh. “Don’t go all protective mode on me right now. We’re in the middle of a match.” His scowl deepens at my words. "You almost got hit by a quaffle." He says, his voice low and dark. "Forgive me for being upset about."

“Can you be upset about it later? It’s going to look out of character right now.” I lower my voice as well. “I’m fine. I'm not hurt. That’s all that matters.”

His mind is racing making it hard for me to keep a neutral look on my face. I love how protective he is when it comes to me but I would rather avoid others noticing it right now.

“Another point for Gryffindor. Guess Slytherin can’t keep up with us today.” A small smack sound emits from the announcer stand as Remus gets hit on the back of the head slightly by McGonagall.

I take a moment to look up at the announcer stand and I see Remus rub the back of his head while McGonagall looks at him in disapproval. I let out a silent chuckle, shaking my head at the sight.

“You sure you’re fine?” Regulus’s voice gets my attention again as I nod. “I’m fine I promise.” He continues to look at me for a moment, a flicker of worry and protectiveness flashing on his face before disappearing.

I see his eyes dart from mine and I immediately pick up on why. I spin my head around as I see the Snitch as well. It's right there, in both of our sights. I watch it flutter near the stands and take off, my body pushing me forward. I feel all of my focus hone in on the Snitch.

Regulus and I are side by side as we chase the Snitch. Anytime one of us gains a bit of space the other catches up quickly after. The Snitch makes many fast turns and drives but that only makes us increase our speed.

Adrenaline pumps into my body, making my muscles tense. I've never had such a close chase for the Snitch before. I can see him from the corner of my eye, his face a mix of concentration and determination.

My fingers tighten their grip about my broom as I lean further down to increase my speed. I see him copy my movements making me grumble slightly. “Copycat much?”

"I need to catch the Snitch somehow," He replies, his voice slightly strained. "Not my fault you have some good techniques." I continue to follow you closely, my eyes glued to the Snitch as I process his words.

“Didn’t expect to get a compliment from you on the field.” I tease as I reach my hand out to try and grab the Snitch. He just rolls his eyes before reaching his own hand out.

Each time one of us tries to grab the Snitch, the other is right there too. We're so closely matched that it's almost irritating me. “Come on.” I mumble under my breath as I stretch my arm out even further.

Again he copies my movements, the Snitch grazing his fingertips making me slightly panic. There is no way I’m going to let him win. I won’t let Slytherin win.

An idea pops in my head. I’ve never actually attempted this trick outside of practice, and definitely never at a speed like this. The Han around my broomstick clenches as I debate if it’s worth trying.

A small growl comes out of Regulus as he tries to grasp the Snitch again. I make up my mind and start to shift my position slightly on my broom. Please don’t fall off. I repeat in my mind as I steady myself while beginning to stand.

Regulus notices my shift and immediately slows his broom down slightly. “What are you doing?” He asks with an alarmed tone. I keep my eyes on the Snitch as I answer him. “Winning.”

"By attempting something that is incredibly dangerous and could result in you falling off your broom?" He says, his voice laced with irritation and concern.

“Exactly what I’m doing.” I nod my head in confirmation. He watches in horror as I rise onto my broom and start to walk towards the end. "Do not do—" Regulus starts to say, but cuts himself off as he sees me grab the Snitch. "Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me."

My eyes light up as my hand grabs a hold of the snitch. That little bit of extra length was all I needed. I cheer loudly and raise the Snitch up in my hand before wobbling slightly.

I readjust myself to sit on my broom properly before continuing to celebrate. “Hah I won this time.” I say with a grin as I hold it out in front of Regulus’s face.

"I can see that." He grumbled, his expression turning into a full-on scowl. Despite his irritation at my victory, I can tell he has a small rush of pride at my ability to win like that. "You're bloody insane, you know that?"

The Gryffindor section cheers loudly as the Slytherins sulk slightly at the outcome. We both begin to fly down to the center of the field where we started as I reply back. “I know. But you love this side of me.”

He let out a huff of irritation, but can’t help the subtle upturn at the corner of his mouth at my words. “You’re ridiculous,” He finally responds while shaking his head, but there is a lack of annoyance in his words.

As we land we both dismount our brooms. I immediately get swept up by my teammates as Sirius and James lift me up on their shoulders, cheering with the rest of our team.

I see Regulus roll his eyes as James and Sirius parade me around the field. It wouldn't be a proper Gryffindor victory if they didn't parade me around. I can’t help but laugh out loud at their antics. After they get tired of carrying me around they place me back down on the grass and each of our teammates gives me a pat on the back.

My eyes roam to Regulus every now and then as he watches from the sidelines. As Marlene pulls me into a side hug one of Regulus’s teammates pulls him towards their respective team room to change and leave the field.

“We’re going to have the best party tonight in the common room.” Sirius grins at me as we all begin to head to our own designated room to change as well.

─── ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ ───

I yawn slightly as I sit outside of the Slytherin common room. I expected someone to come out of the entrance by now. I usually don’t have to wait this long to sneak inside. Regulus and I should really pick times for when we meet at each other’s common rooms.

My eyes begin to close as I lean my head against a pillar. I hear faint footsteps but ignore them, keeping my eyes closed. I then hear a snicker making me open my eyes. “Having fun down there love?” Regulus asks with a smirk on his face.

“Did you have me wait out here as payback for winning?” I playfully whined before reaching my hands out indirectly asking him to pull me up.

He chuckles softly, taking my hands in his and pulling me up to my feet. "Maybe a little bit." His eyes roam over me for a moment, taking in my appearance. "You look tired."

“I’m exhausted.” I say as I wrap my hands around his waist and lean my head against his chest. Regulus wraps his arms around me as his hands run soothing circles on my back.

“You’re probably exhausted from that ridiculous stunt you pulled to win.” He teases. I look up at him and puff my cheeks out. “No, I've been practicing that for a while. I’m tired cause your brother and James throw insane parties. Gryffindor parties are not for the weak.”

Regulus let out a bark of laughter, his hands drifting to my hips. “Yeah well, that tends to happen when James and Sirius are involved.” I start to laugh, leaning my head back on his chest.

Regulus pulls me closer against his body. "You were impressive today though. Don't think I didn't notice how good you are out there on the field." A smile forms on my lips as I look up at him.

Without saying anything my hands go up to his face as I pull him towards me, kissing him gently. A small hum emits in his throat as my lips meet his.

His hands grip my hips a little tighter, holding me against him as our kiss deepens. A moment later he breaks away from the kiss, our eyes locking on one another. “You were pretty good out there too.” I return the compliment as my smile grows.

“Of course I was.” He says with a smirk, leaning down to brush his nose against mine. “Not that you can blame me for being distracted when I had such a good view the whole time.”

I laugh again from his comment. “Alright, sure. We'll go with that as the reason you lost.” Regulus rolls his eyes at your response but there's no irritation behind them.

He leans his forehead against mine as I move my hands to rest on his shoulders. "You're lucky I love you." I hum lowly. “I love you too.”

[megwritesriddles]

In the Middle of the Night (In My Dreams!) ༊*·˚

18+ MDNI !!!

Pairing: Tom Riddle x Fem! Reader / You

Summary: Kinktober 2024 Day 21 - Somnophilia. Riddle has to figure out a way to keep Reader happy and covering for his ever increasing duties outside of the castle. What initially starts as a transaction escalates when they're both more willing than he expected, leading them to explore the slightly more forbidden together.

Tags: Somnophilia (consensual), Mildly dubious consent, Fingering, Hand jobs, Oral sex (f and m receiving), Friends with benefits, Denial of feelings, SoftDom!Riddle, HeadGirl!Reader, Manipulation, Faking an illness (chronic fatigue is very real, he's just a lying POS, only briefly mentioned).

READER DISCRETION IS ADVISED!!!!

Word count: 5.1k

Read it on ao3! | Masterlist

Authors note: Okay so despite this poll (sorry), I edited this into a less dark kinktober fic and will then release a much darker (non-con elements) part two after I finally finish kinktober!! This works as a stand alone if you're not into reading that kinda stuff (which I totally understand, ily dw)!! It just felt too dark for kinktober... even tho I literally have non-con as the prompt for day 25.... idk okay!! Hope you like it anyway mwah ( ◕◡◕)っ ♡

PART 2 COMING SOON !! (but works as stand alone)

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶

The moment the two of you had been announced as Head Boy and Girl at the start of the year, Riddle knew he had to get on your good side. Not only for the purposes of professional engagements and living in the same quarters but also because there would be a lot he’d need from you. Last year, he had found a flaw in the enchantments around the castle, discovering that apparition in and out of the castle was in fact possible, so long as you did so from the room of requirements. He has started attending to business outside of the castle regularly, rallying supporters in closed-off magical communities, among trolls and elves. He also searches for artefacts and researches dark magic when he finds the time, visiting isolated collections owned by old eccentrics who he is able to charm easily. He’s made himself a busy life outside of Hogwarts which he’s determined to keep up in order for his plans post-graduation to go as smoothly as possible. Which is where you come in. 

He leaves for these expeditions every weekend, but obviously, he’s not actually allowed to leave the castle. He has to ask you to cover for him if anyone asks where he’s gone. He concocts a rubbish story about having chronic fatigue and having to rest all the time he can, and that he can’t possibly be disturbed while he’s resting as he’s taking special potions for sleep. It’s all a lie, playing on your empathy, which he knows you have droves of, something you are widely admired for. He tells you that he’s horribly embarrassed about it and doesn’t want anyone to think he’s incapable of being Head Boy because of it, so asks you to cover for him if anyone asks about him. You give him those big sympathetic eyes and agree, workshopping a litany of excuses with him. He almost feels bad with how seriously you’re taking this, how much you want him to feel okay, even though you’ve never liked him much before. Almost. It won’t happen a lot either way, he’s told his ‘friends’ that he will be out of reach and very sternly told them not to question, so they won’t poke around, and anyone else who needs him won’t need him often. He makes a show of being very tired in the evenings in the common room the first few weeks you live together. Soon after, he drops the charade and you don’t seem to notice the falsification happening right in front of you, continuing to cover for him every now and then when it comes up. You even comment optimistically that he seems more energetic lately, to which he smiles.

“I suppose so, yes, it must be that I can finally get the rest I need, thanks to you,” he says smoothly, proud of himself for taking this as another opportunity to keep you pliable. You seem overjoyed to be helping.

In return, he keeps you sweet. At first, he merely observes you to get an idea of what might keep him on your good side. Then, he starts showing up for you. He brings your favourite pastries from breakfast (you have a bad habit of sleeping in, which sometimes makes him wonder how you got this job, but alas), accompanied by a coffee just how you like it. Complimenting you whenever you try a new hairstyle or dress up nicely on weekends. The first time he’d done it, he’d commented on a trim you’d gotten to your hair over the weekend in Hogsmeade. You were baffled, saying no one had noticed a thing all day. He sensed that you found the fact that he was the only one to notice odd, but he couldn’t help being observant. He told you as much, and you just smiled. He makes sure to do any favours you ask of him, so you can’t throw his refusal back in his face in case you want to stop helping him, he needs something to hold over your head. It’s never much, perhaps helping you with a bit of schoolwork, listening to a speech you’ve prepared for Head duties or just jostling the logs in the fireplace of the common room when the flames die down. He’s surprised you don’t ask for more, considering that he starts asking for a lot from you. 

His schedule outside of Hogwarts gets complicated, requiring him to head out occasionally in the middle of the week. You always cover for him, insisting to professors that he’s ill in bed, even though it’s clear by now that you’ve realised he’s actually missing during these periods. Your enthusiasm over helping him out has dwindled as you get the sense you’re being played, but he treats you well enough that you seem to assume the best intentions. How naive. Having someone so respected by the professors, the head girl herself, lying for him, he knows, is the only reason he’s been getting away with it for this long. He’s ‘sick’ far too often and never seen at the hospital wing, never requesting any medicine or showing any symptoms. He wonders what you think he’s doing when he’s away, doubting you could guess the truth, but you never ask despite your increasingly suspicious looks, which he appreciates. He likes you, you’re discreet, a surprising trait for such a goody-two-shoes as you are. He spends more and more time with you in the common room in his free time, charming you and winning you over, making sure he’s there if you need a favour or a ‘friend’ to talk to. He finds you to be intelligent and likeable, you’re funny, even if he prefers a bit of a darker humour than you have. There are silences as you sit together where you stare at him while he works on whatever schoolwork he deems most important that day, he knows you’re formulating all sorts of theories, your brain turning as you try to make a guess.

“I appreciate you being discreet,” he says simply one night as you sit together, working separately on assignments. The statement is followed by a silence in which he is tempted to look over at you to see your reaction but resists the urge.

“I don’t suppose you’ll ever tell me what you’re up to?” It’s meant to be a question, but it comes out as a statement. You already know he won’t, and he knows it too. No matter how good you’ve proved to be about covering for him, if you knew the true nature of what he was up to, you’d run. Tattle before even letting him explain, which really wouldn’t help either way. He turns to you, extending an arm. 

“Come here,” he nods his head in his direction. You look confused, and he doesn’t blame you for feeling that way, he isn’t affectionate with anyone. He makes a point of never being seen as being soft, which is easy given he isn’t soft for anyone. But he knows the type you are, so sweet and kind, the type that you can be won over with a little affection. There’s no one here to see either of you anyway, he can risk it this once. You slowly scoot into his side and he wraps an arm around your shoulders. He brushes an errant strand of hair from your face and holds you to his side. “I really do appreciate it, I’m always here if you need anything from me,” he whispers. You look up at him and nod. “Good,” he hums. You spend the rest of the night pressed into his side as you do your homework, it’s odd, but he’s warm and solid, and most girls at Hogwarts would kill to be in your position, so you let it be. It becomes a fairly frequent scene, the two of you snuggled up by the fire, especially as the days grow colder and colder. His hands like to wander, brushing places they probably shouldn’t, but you never stop him or say a word, letting your own hands wander a little too. You don’t talk about it, not with him or with anyone else. You know without words that he doesn’t want it to leave the room. It’s just another secret you have to keep for him. 

He starts having the need for more frequent meetings with his little group of in-school followers, the Knights of Walpurgis, as his plans get closer and closer to their time of fruition. The Head Common Room is the perfect place to host, spacious and completely secret, except for from you. He knows he has to sweeten the deal once more to have you leave the common room for long periods in the evening. So one night, while the two of you study together snuggled up, he kisses you. You’re alarmed but immediately kiss back. He knew you would, every girl in the damn school would, but it still feels like an unexpectedly simple triumph. His hand grips your jaw, not allowing you to move away, not that you’re trying to. Your hand gently cups the side of his neck, keeping him close as his tongue carefully breaches your lips, slightly surprised by how willing you are for him. He has a multitude of things he’s considered doing to you, but for tonight, he has to stick with something focused on your pleasure. He doesn’t mind, pleasuring you is an act of domination in its own right. By the end of the night, he has you sat between his legs, your back to his chest as his fingers thrust in and out of you. You squirm and mewl in his ear, your head thrown back on his shoulder, as he holds you securely with an arm around your middle, fucking you on his fingers. He’s high off of the fact he has you completely nude apart from your socks before him, while he’s still fully dressed.

“There we go, darling,” he purrs in your ear, gently pressing his lips to your jaw. “I bet you’ve wanted this for quite a while, haven’t you?” he teases, grinding the heel of his palm against you as his fingers press in and out. You must have, given how quickly you’d let him strip you down, manoeuvre you into the position he wanted, just how soaking wet you’d been from a couple of strategic words of praise. He’d wrongly assumed you’d be a little more prudish, but he was pleasantly surprised otherwise. “I want you to do something for me,” he whispers, slowing his movements a little so you can focus on his words. You whine softly in protest and he smirks. “Tomorrow evening, could you make yourself scarce for… let’s say three hours? Starting from… six thirty?” his fingers caress your inner walls torturously lightly, almost tickling, making you squirm unhappily.

“Where would I go?” you exhale.

“Library? Walk the grounds? Astronomy tower? I don’t mind, darling, as long as you’re not here,” he kisses behind your ear softly. He expects some questions or protests, but none come, only a simple nod. He’s a little surprised how easy things are with you, although it may have a lot to do with how his fingers are currently buried deep in your cunt at present, he concedes to himself. But you’re always easy, always helpful, so willing to give him the benefit of the doubt even though you were more than smart enough to know better. “That’s a lovely girl,” he smiles against your skin. He hesitates, unsure whether to reveal the transactional nature of his kindness toward you, but he feels he must assure you somehow that it will be worthwhile. “I’ll reward you accordingly, I promise. You’ll hurry back to me at nine-thirty, won’t you? I’ll be missing you by then,” he purrs, trying to further pull the wool over your eyes with some flattery. He straightens up to look down at you, your head still resting back on his shoulder. “Won’t you?” he prompts again, kissing your forehead. You nod, giving him a pleading look and bucking your hips helplessly. You want him to keep going, feeling half-insane from his unmoving fingers filling you up.

And that he does, finger-fucking you through two mind-blowing orgasms that night, showering you with ever more ridiculous praises as the night goes on. It’s unclear whether you’re losing your mind to the pleasure and not understanding him, or if he’s just spewing every compliment he can possibly think of. Once you’re thoroughly debauched, he helps you into your bed as your legs are too shaky on their own, laying you down and kissing you goodnight with a slightly stilted tenderness. You watch him in quiet confusion as he retreats from your room, feeling satisfied and yet completely confused. 

It becomes a bit of a routine, whenever he needs you to stay away from the common room, or otherwise go out of your way for him, he pulls you into his lap in the evening and tugs down your underwear, pleasuring you expertly. Soon, it becomes harder to tell, as he begins to get you off every night, whether he’s after something or not. You don’t know if it’s just his efforts to make sure you don’t forget to think of him positively, you’re far from oblivious to the fact you’re being bribed, or if he’s just enjoying it at this point. He stretches out your encounters more and more, especially when you start returning the favour, using your hand on him while he does the same to you. You’re pleasantly surprised how aroused he gets just from fucking you on his fingers, always at least half-hard by the time you can get your hands on him. When he introduces his mouth into the equation, you’re sure he’ll be asking something big of you soon. But he doesn’t, nothing new comes up, other than you also beginning to use your mouth on him. He seems to love it, so you suppose it must have been motivation enough. He likes to take his time, to make you feel helpless and desperate, not seeming to care if it leads him to spend long periods of time kneeling before you, which was something you were certain he would have never been caught doing for anyone.

It’s a nice relationship in Riddle's opinion, he gets off and he gets what he wants from you. You make yourself scarce and Riddle is able to conduct his meetings in peace in a perfect setting. Whether you’re using mouths or hands, it’s always intensely pleasurable. He grows attached to the sight of you on your knees before him, his cock deep in your mouth as you look up at him with those wide innocent eyes. You’re amazing with your mouth, and usually willing to get on your knees whenever he’d like you to. It’s a perfect arrangement in this way. He loves to hold you down and make you scream using nothing but his tongue. Some of his friends say that eating out a woman is demeaning, but he never feels more powerful than when he has you crying and begging. He loves to make you beg, long-forgotten is the fact he’s meant to be doing this just to keep you sweet, just to manipulate you into helping him. He’s lost in it now, and no matter how selfish he gets in bed, you keep covering for him, seeming to misinterpret him as generous rather than intensely power-hungry. It works well for his purposes, so he lets you think of him as a giving lover.

He’s a little surprised that you haven’t asked for any exclusivity or any indication of whether he’s bringing in other girls at the times he asks you to keep away. He’s not, of course, but he doesn’t understand why you don’t care to ask. He tells himself that it doesn’t matter, but deep down it does bother him, every other girl he’d ever been involved with, even briefly, had asked to be his one and only. You’re a sweet girl, the type he assumed would fall in love with him the moment he first got his hands on (and in) you, but you haven’t indicated this in any way. He knows you’re not seeing any other men because he keeps an eye on you whenever he can. Even having gone so far as to cancel a meeting with a tradesman in Diagon Alley to stay back and watch you while you think he’s away. Nothing. You go about your day as normal, come back to the common room and curl up to read your book. Just before bed, you attempt to get yourself off and fail, pouting through your night routine. You can’t do it without him, he notes smugly. He wishes he could come help, but he can’t without revealing his spying. By the time he gets back legitimately, you’re fast asleep. Given all of this, he still doesn’t understand why you’re not asking him for a commitment. It’s not that he wants to commit to you, he doesn’t like the idea of being tied down, even if he currently has no interest or energy to pursue anyone but you, but the fact you haven’t asked drives him nuts. You seem happy to get off with him and go to sleep without asking a single question. He lingers in your doorway, watching your frame rise and fall under your blanket with slow breaths, wondering about you.

He’s surprised when you bring it up. How you’d felt his presence in your doorway while you’d been asleep, despite not being fully awake. He explained that he’d been wanting to help you out (his own evasive phrasing) but that you’d been visibly asleep so he’d left instead. At your expression, he asks you teasingly if you’d have liked him to do it anyway, his teasing smirk only growing when you blush and nod. And so a system was set, he tells you to sleep on the sofa in the common room if you’d like his attention during the night, as he has a habit of waking up in the middle of the night to fetch water. You agree and you proceed together like normal for the next few days, pleasuring each other in the evenings when he isn’t busy. Every night, even on nights he wasn’t actually waking up naturally, he would come into the common room to check for you. For a long time, you’re not there, and he’s a little frustrated with you. Why dangle such a tantalising idea in front of him if you never meant to go through with it? He’d been a perfect gentleman, telling you that you could say no if the idea made you uncomfortable, but at the time, you’d seemed apprehensively excited about it, yet now, nothing. His eyes stay glued on your door as he goes about getting his water each night, wishing he could go in there. He tries his best not to show his disappointment when he spends time with you in the daytime, not wanting to come off as pushy and drive you away. He needed you to like him, staying on your good side was non-negotiable and pushing you on a matter like this was generally frowned upon. About a week and a half later, he trudges from his room to top up his glass and sees a lump under a blanket on the sofa. It’s you.

He immediately slows and lightens his footsteps, not wanting to wake you as it would ruin the fun. He hadn’t had time for you the last four days, between increasing stakes when it came to schoolwork and closing in on a magical artefact outside of it, he’d been gone for everything but class and sleep. He creeps over to you, seeing your peaceful face squished against the velvet throw pillow. You must have missed him, he thinks, since you started your little mutual arrangement you’ve never gone more than two days without each other before, mostly because Riddle found himself quite insatiable. He’d always told himself he was uninterested in matters of the flesh, that he enjoyed indulging but could easily control himself, and that he was only doing what he was with you to manufacture a sense of closeness and keep you in the palm of his hand. Yet, he had to admit that he doesn’t usually go so far for the purposes of manipulation and that he never would have done this in the first place if he hadn’t found you attractive. He was unwilling to sacrifice his own happiness for his manipulation, beyond a bit of necessary flattering drivel. So when he’d allowed himself into this arrangement, even simply under a pretence, he had quickly lost control of it and become ravenous for the sensations you could offer. He watches your parted lips as you breathe softly. Gently, he rolls you onto your back, waiting to see if you wake. You don’t. He slips the plush blanket down your body and exposes you to his eyes. You’re dressed in a sweet feminine nightgown and he finds the look to be sweet on you, fitting. You were a perfect thing to corrupt. Yet, he smirks to himself, you had agreed to this, you were already corrupted, so desperate for him that you wanted him even in your sleep. Surely you did want exclusivity from him, you were just trying to appear laid back to not scare him off. You could be endearingly shy like that at times. Yes, you agreeing to this was surely evidence that you wanted more from him than you had. That you needed him.

He slowly and cautiously shifts you around until he can settle comfortably between your legs. His hands run up and down the soft skin of your thighs, keeping a close eye to see if you stir. He wonders if you’re really such a heavy sleeper, or if you’re merely pretending not to have woken for his benefit. At the moment it doesn’t matter to him, you seem asleep enough, and if you are conscious, you’re hardly objecting. He pushes up the hem of your nightdress and grins at the sight of you already bare for him, with no underwear in sight. Naughty girl, he thinks to himself as his hands skim up and down your inner thighs, leaning forward to press a soft kiss just above the little patch of hair shielding the part of you he wants most. He would love to tease you and draw it out more, but he doesn’t want you to wake before he can explore the more intimate aspects. He carefully lies down, guiding one of your supple thighs over his shoulder, spreading you open for his eager eyes. You’re already a little wet, he wonders if it’s from his teasing now, or perhaps your dreamy anticipation. He knows he can get you wetter easily. He uses two fingers to gently spread you open even more, revealing the sensitive pearl nestled within your folds. He blows lightly on it, making you twitch a little. He grins.

Still trying to let you stay asleep for now, he leans in and very gently touches his tongue to your bundle of nerves. You sigh softly in your sleep but don’t seem to wake. Your dreams are turning sticky-sweet, you begin to feel warm and floaty, but you’re not conscious enough to register this change properly. You squirm slightly and moan as his tongue gently swirls around your clit, not touching to keep you just bubbling below waking. Your breath is hitching softly, and little noises are leaving your throat. He can tell you’ll wake soon unless he stops, but he figures he doesn’t mind. He wants to see your face when you wake up to his head between your legs. Will you be shocked to start with? Or immediately eager and accepting? He was oddly thrilled to discover this. Your hands slide away from where they rested on your stomach, trying to grab something as he starts to lap at you just a little faster, your breath hitching a little more, exhaling shakily. He’s surprised you’re still asleep, he’s tempted to use legilimency on you to discover what you’re dreaming of. Your face is flushed and your lips parted blissfully, so he figures it’s something nice. His tongue slides up and down between your slick folds, the familiar taste of you spreading across his tongue as you become more and more aroused. He gently kneads the skin of your hip, pulling you a little closer to his mouth, trying to coax you awake without startling you too much. Your eyelids flutter, but you remain asleep, whimpering quietly. He focuses the tip of his tongue on your clit, making the stimulation just a little more intense, watching for your reaction intently. Your fingers tangle into the crumpled blanket by your side, curling into the plush material, and he knows you're on the very verge of wakefulness. He smirks, gently suckling your clit into his mouth. 

This rips a loud moan from your chest, which in turn makes your eyes snap open. You try to sit up, blinking blearily, looking a little bewildered, trying to make out shapes in the dim moonlight, to understand why you feel lost in a haze of pleasure. Riddle's hand moves, splaying out on your stomach, pushing you back down and holding you there. Your eyes snap to him, he grins up at you from between your legs, looking unbelievably smug, his eyes glinting in the light of the moon. The sight of him between your legs, the knowledge of what he’d been doing while you’d been sleeping, coaxes another moan from your lips. He eases up a little now you’re awake, going back to gentle teasing licks against your bundle of nerves. Your heart pounds and you breathe rapidly, partially reeling from the sudden awakening, but mostly just feeling amazing. You lie back against the sofa, trying your best to get your bearings while he continues smothering you with unrelenting bliss. He pulls back for a moment, though he instantly replaces his mouth with his fingers, not giving you a moment to think. 

“Naughty girl, sleeping without underwear to give me access,” he purrs, his voice rumbling in a self-satisfied manner. You giggle sleepily. You had done that, hadn’t you? He smiles up at you. “Was it a nice awakening, my darling?” he murmurs smoothly, leaning back in to continue his dedicated licks. You whimper softly, your hips twitching before he holds you solidly in place, tutting against your sensitive skin.

“The best awakening, so unbelievably arousing,” you whisper, your voice hoarse, watching him work his magic between your legs. He hums against you. He knows this of course, this was quite possibly the wettest he’d ever had you, only increasing since you’d woken up and become conscious of what he was doing. Your hands slide into his short curls as he works, usually, he might complain about this, but you’re still a little sleepy, and he decides to let it go. You sigh pleasurably, your hooded eyes locked on him. His eyes look up to meet yours as he begins to suckle on your clit once more. Intense pleasure floods over you, your head lolling back, your hands tightening slightly in his hair. You let out a string of desperate moans, moans he’s become intimately familiar with over the past few weeks. You’re close and he intends to get you there, to show you how much you need him, to remind you that you can no longer achieve this alone, if you ever could. He doubles down on his actions, gripping your hip a little tighter to keep you firmly in place. “Oh… Tom!” you plead, trying to grind your centre up into his face. You could get so desperate sometimes, Riddle tuts to himself. “Please,” you beg, anticipating his desire to tease you and hoping to get ahead of it. You need this, badly, he hasn’t been around to help you for days, and the scenario was driving you mad with lust. He’s uncharacteristically gracious, not relenting, continuing to lavish you with exquisite sensation, building you up and up. You look down again, and as his eyes meet yours, the coil in your belly snaps. Your whole body tenses, your back arching off of the sofa, a guttural cry escaping you. He holds your hips in place, continuing his assault as you ride out the climax. Tears gather in your eyes and you feel a little humiliated by how intensely this is affecting you. 

After several desperate sobs, you finally collapse back, your hands slipping from his hair. You take several deep breaths as he withdraws from between your legs, sitting up to look down at you. He grabs a tissue from the coffee table, wiping his mouth and discarding it haphazardly. You smile tiredly, and you feel exhausted by your sudden wake-up, but completely heavenly at the same time. You stare at each other for a moment. It’s an oddly domestic moment. You’ve never seen him in his pyjamas before, a matching shirt and trousers, made of silk or some other such soft material, the type that’s popular with the rich Slytherin boys. His hair is a little curly naturally, this you did know from him getting back to the common room on rainy days, but is now slightly messed up from your hands in it. You cover yourself back up, tugging the hem of your nightdress back down as he watches. He looks almost sweet, he has been sweet to you, in his own way. He reaches over and touches your flushed cheek, rubbing it softly with his thumb, unsure whether he’s trying to prove his effect on you, or just wishing to touch you. 

“I’ll have to think of something to ask of you in exchange for doing that,” he jokes a little unnaturally. You laugh honestly. 

“You didn’t already have something?” you tease, moving to sit up. He smiles, enjoying the way you see through him, just enough to prove you’re not stupid, but not enough to compromise any plans. Perhaps that’s why you haven’t asked for exclusivity with him, you’re not stupid like the others, whether you want it or not being irrelevant to the facts. The facts that were feeling more like theories lately.

“No, believe it or not,” he chuckles, pushing your hair behind your shoulder. “But it’ll be easy enough to think of something,” he pulls you onto his lap and kisses you goodnight. “You always find a way of being useful,”

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶

xoxoxo

[slightly-more-valid-prongs]

“james, please come to bed.”

james spins in the desk chair, his short brown hair tousled with a headphone dent across the middle of his head. “i want to. i really do, but i need to finish this.” he checks the clock on his laptop, yawning widely before reaching for his coffee. “it’s due tomorrow morning.”

regulus rolls himself out of bed, groaning as he walks across the room to place himself in james’ lap, wrapping his legs around the boy’s waist. “but i’m sleepy.” he mutters into his neck, struggling to keep his eyes open. “i’ll just stay here.” he whispers, closing his eyes as james strokes his hair before returning to typing.

“sweet dreams, reggie.”

[allysketches]

“Oh, well, he always made a fool of himself whenever Lily was around”

saw a tweet the other day that said something like: “enemies to lovers but only one thinks they’re enemies—the other has been in love all along”   

which is not only the best dynamic but also perfectly encapsulates jily on their first years of hogwarts 👀👀 (aaand I wanted an excuse to draw baby-marauders... or like, at least half of them 😬)