#even the students know who Harry belongs to

[gryfferin-gaybies]

Gryffindor Student: *sighs* Professor Potter is so hot

Their friend: careful. Don't let Professor Malfoy hear you say that.

Draco: *walking by, trying not to laugh* yeah I hear that Professor Malfoy can be very territorial

[munson-blurbs]

Single Dad!Eddie x Fem!Reader Series

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14

Summary: Will's birthday party brings back some familiar faces and gives Eddie the perfect opportunity to make amends with Corroded Coffin, but an unexpected interruption might have him hurtling towards his old ways.

Warnings: some dirty talk (18+ only just in case), drinking/drunkenness (everyone is over 21), pregnancy and labor complications, mentions of past bullying

WC: 8.2k

Chapter 14/20

Divider credit to @saradika Special shoutout to @storiesbyrhi and @corroded-hellfire for helping with the fluffy sections and making this piece strong.

--

Afternoons at Hawkins Preschool are predictable: storytime on the carpet is followed by the kids’ pack-up routine, and once all belongings are shoved into their proper backpacks, they file out the door to go home. 

Predictable is good. It’s safe. And it certainly doesn’t include a fire drill half an hour before dismissal. 

Herding nine children through the bustling hallways and trying to ensure no one is left behind is overwhelming enough. Factor in the ear-splitting alarm and the surge of adrenaline pulsing through your students once they re-enter your classroom, and you’ve got the perfect recipe for chaos. 

Instead of fighting a losing battle to keep the kids calm and quiet, you’d opted to plunk them down with myriad art supplies and called it a day. 

Now, after the last student had been picked up, you and Will are left cleaning the mess they’d made. Broken crayons are scattered across the tabletops, there’s Play-Doh of various colors stuck to the floor, and gold glitter—when did you even acquire glitter?—dusts every surface. 

“Seriously…who thought that that timing was a good idea?” Will grumbles, tossing a Crayola stub into the crayon basket. He adopts a nasal, mocking tone. “‘What would help out our teachers? Oh, I know—let’s interrupt their dismissal routines!’”

You laugh despite your own exhaustion. Somehow, you’ll have to muster up the energy to tutor Harris tonight. 

Will reaches into the cupboard to grab his car keys, turning back around with a smile that he only offers you when he needs something. “Could I ask you for a little favor?”

There it is. “How little?” You cock one brow as you clip a stack of papers together.

“Eensy weensy. Miniscule. Microscopic–”

“The more you say it, the less I believe you.”

“Okay, okay,” Will acquiesces, twirling his keyring around his forefinger. “So, for my birthday thing on Saturday…a bunch of my childhood friends are gonna be there. Mike, Dustin, Suzie, Lucas, Max, Jane…” he lists them, ticking off each name on his fingers. “Anyway, I was hoping that maybe you could talk to Eddie about a Corroded Coffin reunion? I know they’re on a hiatus or whatever, but if anyone can convince him to play, it’s you.”

He’s not wrong; you’re the most likely person to get Eddie to do, well, anything. But asking him to make amends with Danny and Gareth and getting their band to play a gig three days from now seems like a mountainous task.

Will is staring at you, hands clasped together pleadingly. He’s too optimistic for his own good, and you can’t help but give in.

“Fine, I’ll try. But–hey, don’t get excited yet,” you warn when he pumps his fist in celebration. “‘Try’ is the key word here. I’m not making any promises.”

Your admonition goes unheeded as Will already considers it a victory. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!” You give him a small, tight-lipped wave as he dashes out the door. You and Eddie were already planning to attend the party; you’d spent part of last night scouring an art store for the perfect gift. And he and Jeff were back to being thick as thieves…maybe this could work. 

“All right, Mr. Harris,” you say with a laugh, hurriedly placing tiles of various shapes in front of him. You need to make the most of the few minutes you have left until Eddie arrives. There’s a soft, familiar flutter in your stomach as you think about seeing your boyfriend, but you know you can’t compete with him for Harris’s attention. “Can you find the…trapezoid?” The inflection in your voice makes it sound like a much more exciting task than it really is, and you hope it’s enough to wrangle his focus. 

Harris pokes out his tiny pink tongue as he assesses the tiles. He initially reaches for the blue rhombus, but as soon as his little finger touches it, he pulls away as though it’s on fire. “No��that’s not it.” You tuck your lips into your mouth to suppress your amusement as he thoughtfully taps his forefinger on his lips. A solid ten seconds pass before he triumphantly snatches up the correct tile. “Got it!” he beams, showing off the red trapezoid in his hand.

“You did! You got the trapezoid!” You hold up your hand for a high-five, frowning when he shakes his head. His overgrown curls brush along his eyebrows, and you wonder if it’s your place to suggest that Eddie take him for a haircut. “No high-five?”

“Nuh-uh,” Harris protests, now swiveling his whole body in defiance. “I want…tickles!” He holds his arms out, leaving his torso wide open.

Lips pursed in faux consideration, you lower your voice to a hushed whisper. “Hmm…I think that warrants a visit from the Tickle Monster!” You flex your fingers so they resemble claws; he instinctively scrunches up in anticipation, arms tucked into his stomach. You let out your silliest wicked cackle as your fingers dig mercilessly into his sides in pursuit of his most ticklish spots. Delighted peals of laughter emanate from his chest, and you don’t stop until the buzzer rings, signaling Eddie’s arrival.

Harris’s eyes get wide, mischief dancing behind his pupils. “Do you think the Tickle Monster should get Daddy?” he asks, keeping his voice low despite it only being the two of you. 

“Oh, absolutely.” You buzz Eddie in while formulating the game plan aloud. “I’ll grab the pizza and you go on the attack. Once the food is secured, I’ll join you.” You stick out your pinky, and he wraps his own around it. 

“Ms. Sweetheart?”

“Yeah?”

“I love you.”

His words turn your heart into a chocolate chip cookie fresh out of the oven, ooey gooey and destined to crumble if handled too harshly. “I love you, too, Harris,” you manage, blinking back embarrassing tears. The flood of emotion is absurd; he probably tells his stuffed animals that he loves them with the same fervor, but you can’t deny the adoration with which he looks at you.

He flings his arms around you in a hug, squeezing tight. Face pressed to your ribs, his words are muffled but still audible when he says, “I don’t know why Daddy says it’s hard to say ‘I love you.’”

He doesn’t have time to further elaborate before Eddie’s knocking on the door. “Special delivery for my two favorite people!” Your heart beats faster with the knowledge that he’s on the other side, that you’ll be able to sneak in a kiss or two. 

You and Harris share devious grins, the little boy emulating your monster-esque stance from earlier. He creeps behind you on his tiptoes, and bites back a giggle when you slowly open the door, counting down from three under your breath.

“Hi–whoa!” Eddie stumbles back as Harris barrels into him, little fingers dancing across his lower stomach. You quickly snatch the pizza box from Eddie’s grasp and place it on the table before darting back to where his son has ambushed him. You start on his bicep and let your nails travel upwards until they reach the crook of his neck. 

“I’m under attack!” Eddie yelps, twitching this way and that way in a meager attempt to protect himself. “I bring you pizza and this is how I’m repaid?” He easily scoops Harris into his arms, flinging him over his shoulder. Harris lets out an exhilarated squeal, carelessly kicking his sock-clad feet into his dad’s chest. “Jesus, little dude. You’re getting too strong.” Wincing slightly from the pinch in his back as he places the boy on the floor, he gives his tush a little pat and tells him to wash up for dinner, reminding him to use soap and water.

As soon as Harris scampers off into the bathroom, Eddie’s grabbing you by the belt loops of the wide-leg jeans you’d changed into when you got home. One hand slides around your waist and the other finds purchase on your cheek as he kisses you deeply, keeping a listening ear out for the telltale pitter-patter of Harris returning. 

“Missed you,” he murmurs into your mouth, and you shiver at the intimacy this closeness brings.

You laugh quietly, biting your lower lip. “We just saw each other this morning,” you remind him, sneaking in another quick peck.

Eddie shakes his head. “Y’know what I mean. Can’t do this while you’re on the clock,” he counters, shifting his grip so both hands rest on either side of your face. You think he’s going to kiss you again, but he just gazes into your eyes. “Shit, you’re so fuckin’ pretty. Couldn’t stop thinkin’ about you today.” He rests the slope of his nose on yours, only snapping out of his trance at the sound of Harris rapidly switching the faucet on and off. “Let me go check on him before this place is underwater,” he whispers, giving your own ass a smack as he shuffles towards his mischievous son, a cheeky grin deepening his dimples.

You do your best to compose yourself, heat creeping up your neck and into your face. Busying yourself by placing pizza slices onto paper plates does little to distract you; it’s as though every neuron is dedicated to flooding your brain with Eddie, Eddie, Eddie. 

The way the pads of his fingertips brush against your cheeks when he holds your face. The plush moisture of his lips when he kisses your forehead. The tickle of his brown tresses when he nuzzles into you and takes a deep breath, finally able to relax after a long day. 

“Are you expecting a guest?” Eddie pipes up from the kitchen entrance. A perplexed frown overtakes your lips until he gestures to what you’ve laid out in front of you: four slices of pizza, two plain and two with olives, on four plates. 

Your vision gets a bit fuzzy with tears when you realize what you’ve done. “No, it’s, um…” Nostrils flare as you huff out a short puff of air, hot under your nose. “Force of habit, sorry.” You’ve been so diligent about only serving three slices, but your preoccupation with his touch had your mind drifting from the task at hand.

It takes him a moment to process what you mean, but when he does, his face falls. It was for Grandma. “It’s okay,” he says, cringing as the words leave his mouth. Because it’s not okay that you’re sad; it’s normal, but frustration still tugs at his heart that he can’t take it away.

It feels wrong to return the slice to the box, so you leave it where it is. Eddie balances the three plates, sliding a plain one in front of Harris. The boy digs in hungrily, sauce caught on the edges of his smile.

“How was work?” you ask Eddie, grabbing a napkin from the pile in the center of the table. It’s a simple question, one that people ask each other all the time, but it stirs up a warmth inside of him. It’s you asking him, fostering a domestic routine that he could follow for the rest of his life. He’d walk through the door of your house, wiping his shoes on the welcome mat you two had picked out together. The kids–Harris, plus another Little Munson or two–would practically knock him down trying to greet him, and he’d engulf them in bear hugs before reaching out to you, kissing your forehead with a murmured, “there’s my girl.”

“Eds?”

“Huh? Oh, yeah, it was good.” He stumbles over the words, trying to clear his head of the fantasy he’d conjured up. “Lotsa paperwork, y’know.” He takes a bite of pizza, chewing thoughtfully. “What about you?”

You shrug, watching amusedly as Harris sinks his teeth into his slice and manages to pull all of the cheese off of the crust in one fell swoop. “The usual. The kids are learning about springtime, so Will decided to do a craft making flowers using finger paint and their handprints.”

“Sounds messy.”

“Oh, absolutely,” you agree with a weary grin, “but it was super cute, and Will is great with all that art stuff.” You excuse yourself from the table to get the water pitcher and three glasses, stopping when you remember your TA’s request. “He also asked me if a certain local metal band could play his birthday party on Saturday…?”

Eddie pauses mid-chew, nearly choking on his food. The cheese seems to congeal in his mouth when he tries to speak. “Um, I don’t know about that,” he finally manages, nervously massaging the back of his neck. “I haven’t talked to Danny or Gareth since…”

“I know, but you said you wanted to make things right with them,” you point out. “Maybe Jeff can test the waters? See if they’re ready to talk to you?”

“Maybe.” He averts his gaze, staring at the pizza slice without taking another bite. 

You don’t want to further push the subject in Harris’s presence; instead, you turn your attention to the little boy. “Anything fun happen at school today, Har?”

“Nah,” he responds automatically just a half-second before his eyes light up. “Actually, yeah! My friend Charlie ate a bug at recess today!”

“Ew!” you exclaim, wrinkling your nose in pure disgust, as Eddie simultaneously poses the question, “what kind of bug?”

“An ant,” Harris answers his dad nonchalantly, as though ant-eating is an everyday occurrence. Perhaps it is, which is even more unsettling. 

“Did you eat any bugs?” You’re afraid of his response; you’re unsure why you even asked in the first place. 

To your relief, he shakes his head, a forlorn look on his cherubic face. “No, I couldn’t catch any in time.”

“Thank God for small miracles,” you mutter, turning back to your original task of getting something to drink. Though if the topic of bug consumption continues, you’ll need something much stronger than water. 

Could Corroded Coffin play again?

It’s a thought that consumes Eddie for the entirety of his drive home, barely able to listen to Harris yammering about how there’s a coin in his jacket pocket that he doesn’t remember putting there. He throws a few lackluster mhms his son’s way and hopes he’s too distracted by the mystery coin to catch on. 

We’re getting the band back together. Well, if Jake and Elwood Blues could swing it, maybe he could, too. 

He waits until Harris is asleep to call Jeff. Getting his son to do his bedtime routine is easiest on Wednesday nights; he’s usually exhausted after a full day of school and tutoring. The one time that Eddie could use an excuse to procrastinate, Harris is out like a light. 

Go to voicemail go to voicemail go to—

“‘Lo?”

Shit. “H-Hey, man,” Eddie begins awkwardly. “How’s it going? Viv doing okay?”

“We’re good. She’s ready to have this baby already. I reminded her, ‘just two more weeks,’ but then she told me to ‘fuck off’ until I’m the pregnant one, so…” he chuckles, more nervous than amused. “Everything good with you? Harris?”

“Yeah, we’re fine. Just, um,” he struggles to find the words, blurting out the first ones that enter his brain. They come out in a rush before he can stop them. “Do Gareth and Danny still hate me?”

Jeff takes a sharp breath in; his reaction does nothing to temper Eddie’s nerves. “They never hated you. They were just…disappointed? Jesus, I sound like my mom.” 

Eddie misses his friend’s anecdote, too wrapped up in his head to fully pay attention. Somehow, disappointed stings worse than the prospect of being hated, especially when the people he’s let down are ones who used to idolize him. “Do you think there’s a way they could be…undisappointed in me? Like, enough to forgive me and maybe play a gig this weekend?”

There’s an extended pause, and then a one-word response: “Christ.” 

Eddie can picture Jeff rubbing his eyes in exasperation, and he scrambles to explain. “Will Byers–you remember him? He was in Hellfire; had that weird bowl cut thing going on?”

“Mhm.”

“He’s having a birthday thing at the Hideout on Saturday and asked if we could play. Just a coupla songs.”

Jeff thinks for a moment; Eddie can hear him drumming his fingers on a nearby surface.

“Why don’t you come over tomorrow night around…6?” he ventures. “I’ll invite the guys and we can…I dunno, figure something out.”

“Thanks, man. I owe you.” He’s about to hang up when he remembers to ask, “Can I bring Harris?”

“Of course.”

“Har, slow down!” Eddie’s barely unbuckled his son’s car seat before Harris has wriggled out of the sedan, bolting straight for Jeff’s door.

“But I haven’t seen Uncle Danny and Uncle Gareth in forever!” he laments, reaching the house far faster than Eddie. He stands on tiptoes and rings the doorbell like a madman, forefinger jamming into the button at warp speed. “Uncle Jeff! It’s me!”

Jeff opens the door with a huge smile. “Mini Munson!” He scoops the boy up into a hug. “What’s new with you, little dude?”

“I got a wiggly tooth!” Harris exclaims, jutting out his jaw and pressing his tongue against the front center of his mouth. Sure enough, the baby tooth moves slightly forward, and he giggles. “Daddy says the Tooth Fairy’s gonna come and leave me a dollar,” he matter-of-factly reports. He peeks his head over Jeff’s shoulder, squealing and squirming out of his grip when he spots the two men sitting on the couch. He flings himself onto the sofa and plunks himself down into Gareth’s lap. “Hi!”

“Hey, kiddo!” Gareth chirps. “You’re getting so big.”

“‘M five now. I had a birthday party because I turned five.” He splays out his palm to offer five fingers. 

“Did your friends go?”

“Yup!” Harris beams at the memory. “An’ Daddy an’ Grampa Wayne an’ Ms. Sweetheart.”

Danny furrows his brows. “Who’s Ms. Sweetheart?”

“She’s my almost-mommy. Daddy has to fall in love with her first.” 

“Is that so?” Gareth smirks at Eddie. His teasing look is the first crack in the wall that has separated the men for the last six months, and though Eddie is thoroughly embarrassed, it alleviates some of his anxiety.

“Uh, Har Bear, why don’t you go hang out with Auntie Viv while I talk with the guys?”

Viv holds out her left hand, looking utterly exhausted. Her right hand rests on her bump, eyes sending a telepathic message to Jeff that they have five minutes—ten minutes, if Harris behaves well—to come to a solution before she needs a break. 

Silence filters into the room as Eddie fumbles to address the mess he’s made. If Danny and Gareth are here, they’re at least willing to listen to him, which is honestly farther than he’d assumed he’d get. 

He remembers what Harris said about apologizing; technically, what you’d taught him about apologizing: the act of saying sorry, not merely implying it, makes a world of difference. 

“I was an asshole,” he starts. It’s not his most eloquent statement, but it certainly gets the point across. “Not just that night at the Hideout, or at our last practice. I was an asshole for a long time before that. And…I’m sorry.” It feels good to say it; it feels even better that they’re nodding, seeming to believe him. “You guys didn’t deserve to be treated like that.”

Of the rest of the band, Gareth is the one to speak first. “I guess I’m just wondering, why? Why be an asshole to us? We’ve always been there for you.”

“I know.” Eddie fiddles with a thread hanging from his t-shirt, pulling on it until it snaps off. He shoves it in his jeans pocket, not wanting to mess up Jeff and Viv’s place. “Honestly…I’m not sure, but I think it’s because you guys are everything I’m not.”

“What are you talking about?” Danny asks, tone heavy with disbelief. 

“In high school, I was the one you looked up to. The person you wanted to be like. And then I had a kid with some random chick I thought I knew but barely did, gave up my dreams of being a musician, and started selling weed again just to scrape by. And here you guys are. Jeff,” he motions to the friend leaning against the sofa’s arm, “you have a baby on the way with the love of your life. And all of you have goddamn college degrees and jobs that you don’t despise and don’t require you to hide from the law.” He shoves his ringed fingers into his jacket pockets, lowering his voice to barely above a whisper. “And I was nothing.”

Gareth scratches at the upholstery with one finger, absorbing everything he’s just heard. “You know we never stopped looking up to you, right?” He gives a short laugh when Eddie’s eyes widen. “Yeah, man. Leaving Chicago so you could take care of Harris? Putting your kid before yourself? That’s pretty badass.”

Danny nods. “Ed, if there’s someone here to look up to, it’s you.” Both he and Eddie visibly relax. Shoulders drop from their hunched positions, thin lips unfurling into smiles. “No matter what you went through, you never gave up. Even if it almost killed us,” he adds wryly, referring to all of the sleep-deprived Corroded Coffin practices fueled by black coffee and pure adrenaline.

“No fancy diploma can teach us how to stand up for ourselves, or how not to take shit from people, or how to be a dad,” Jeff pipes up from where he’s standing. “We learn from you, man.”

Eddie’s cheeks burn at the compliments, unsure how to accept them. He’d walked in expecting to have to beg for forgiveness, and they were the ones reassuring him. It’s now or never, and he forges ahead while he still has the courage. “Do you…can we get the band back together?” Can we be friends again is the underlying plea, but it’s too vulnerable a statement to make. “We’ll keep it low-key, I promise. Work, family, anything comes up…we can cancel or reschedule. And I won’t be a dick about it.”

The three other men look at one another, nod and turn back to Eddie with smart grins and mischievous glimmers in their eyes.

“On one condition.” Gareth crosses his arms over his chest, smirking as he sinks back against the couch. “You tell us all about this ‘Ms. Sweetheart.’”

The Hideout, normally dingy and coated in a film of sticky ale, has been decked out for Will’s birthday party. Helium-filled balloons in every color bob along the low ceiling, vibrating with the thumping bass of the old sound system. Crepe paper streamers–purple, Will’s favorite color–sway gently with the air that rushes in from opening the door. This has to be Marshall’s handiwork, and it brings a smile to your face. If anyone deserves a partner who fawns over him, it’s Will.

You spot him surrounded by a group of people as the bartender slides a row of tequila shots across the bar and into their eager hands. While they’re distracted by alcohol, you take the opportunity to dart towards the backstage area.

Eddie’s there, digging around for his lucky pick. You wrap your arms around his waist, fingers pressed into the soft dough of his tummy.

“Hey, Rockstar,” you murmur against his neck, kissing just below his earlobe. 

He turns around, jaw dropping when he sees you in a maroon slip dress. The heels on your feet have you two inches taller than usual, and he has to shift where his gaze normally lands to meet your eyes.

“Fuckin’ Christ, baby,” Eddie practically growls, kissing you deeply. One hand presses against the small of your back while the other grabs the plush of your ass, kneading it in his palm. “You’re so fuckin’ sexy. How’m I gonna go out there and play with you looking like that?”

“I’ll make it worth your while.” You giggle when he offers up a bemused smile. “If you do a good job tonight, I’ll give you a reward.” You let your fingertips graze over the metal teeth of his pants zipper, feeling him twitch at your light touch. 

“You’re dangerous,” he winks, delivering another kiss; this time, he gives your lower lip a little bite when he pulls away. His kohl-rimmed eyes draw you in just as they did that first night you’d met, but now you dive into them without the fear of drowning. 

A tactful “ahem” from the now-open doorway startles both you and Eddie, having been floating in an embrace that’s equal parts comfort and desire.

“Sorry to interrupt the lovefest, but we’re on in five,” a man’s voice calls from the doorway. You turn around to see the other three Corroded Coffin members standing there, amusement evident in their expressions.

“You must be Ms. Sweetheart,” one of the guys, soft curls resting atop his head, pipes up. His tone is teasing, but not mocking; the nickname is said with admiration and affection. “I’m Gareth, by the way.” 

“Danny,” the one with tight, wiry curls offers, giving a small wave.

Jeff just shrugs. “You know me.”

Eddie grabs his guitar, slinging the strap across his body. His pants’ fly is tight, and he wills himself to calm down before it’s time to perform. He hasn’t worried about being hard on stage since he was nineteen, but thoughts of your bodies perfectly melding into each other has him subtly adjusting himself as he turns his back to his bandmates.

“See ya out there, baby,” he says before pressing a quick kiss to your cheek. The brief contact between you has you biting your tongue in self-beration for suggesting that the band play tonight. All you want is to dance with him, allowing the steady flow of alcohol to dull your inhibitions as you pull him impossibly close. Not caring who sees or what they think. 

But this night isn’t about you or Eddie. It’s about Will, your TA-turned-friend who has kept you sane amidst your adorably chaotic students and their decidedly less adorable and more chaotic parents. He wanted Corroded Coffin to play his party, and that’s the least you could do for him. 

Will’s already teetering between tipsy and inebriated, breath tinged with the scent of tequila as he introduces you to his friends.

“This is my amazing boyfriend, Marshall.” He smacks a wet kiss to the man’s cheek. “And these are my friends from growing up: Dustin and Suzie, Lucas and Max, and Mike and Jane.” His face melts into a sappy grin as he leans on Marshall to hold him up. “You guys! We’re all in looooove!”

“Jesus Christ,” Dustin mutters, rolling his eyes and shaking his head before turning his attention back to you. “Can we get you something to drink?”

Will raises his empty glass. “I’ll take another–”

“Not you.”

You manage to sneak in a quick conversation with Max, Suzie, and Jane before Corroded Coffin starts their set. Max is finishing up her Masters in English literature at New York University, set to graduate in two months. Suzie programs for NASA, and though Florida is a far cry from her home state of Utah, she loves her job. And Jane is a social worker at a local adoption agency, the cause close to her heart, as she was adopted by Chief Hopper years ago.

“Damn,” you laugh, taking a small sip of your vodka soda. You’re having so much fun that you don’t even care that it’s been watered down. “You’re all such badasses!”

Your admiration of their collective girl power is cut short by the sound of Corroded Coffin taking the stage. It’s as though they’d never taken an extended break; just picked up right where they left off. You cheer so loudly that there’s a pinch in your throat, but you push past it. It’s more than applause. There’s so much tucked away in your yell: I’m proud of you; you’re a rockstar; you’re my person forever, if you’ll have me.

“Hello, Hawkins!” Eddie bellows into the mic. There’s no missing the grin on his face. He’s happy. He’s in his element. He’s where he belongs. 

“No way!” Lucas exclaims, awestruck as he turns to Will.

“Dude, you got Corroded Coffin?” Mike mirrors his friend’s excitement. He slings an arm around Will’s shoulder and pulls him in for a side hug. “This is fuckin’ awesome!”

“The first song of the night goes out to our guest of honor, Will Byers!” Everyone hoots and hollers as Eddie plays the opening chords to The Clash’s Should I Stay or Should I Go. Eddie told you he remembered that the song was one of Will’s favorites growing up; his older brother had gotten him into the band. Sure enough, Will’s bopping to the rhythm, singing every word, albeit quite off-key. 

Corroded Coffin plays a few more songs from their usual setlist, nerves dissipating with each note, before Eddie speaks into the mic again. 

“This next one is for my beautiful girlfriend,” he announces, eyes gazing into yours. “Baby, if my teachers looked like you, I actually would’ve gone to class.”

He nods at Gareth, who starts playing an incredibly complicated beat. As soon as you hear it, you feel your cheeks heat up. The rest of the guys join in on their own instruments, and Eddie oozes bravado as he sings. 

“T-Teacher stop that screamin’ Teacher don’t you see Don’t wanna be no uptown fool.”

Max leans in to you and whisper-shouts, “I’ve known Eddie for years, and I’ve never seen him so…happy.”

Lucas overhears his girlfriend and adds his two cents. “That’s because we’ve never seen him in love.”

Warmth spreads all over your body, but it’s not from embarrassment. Allowing yourself to believe that Eddie loves you—is in love with you—opens a door you’d deadbolted until the time was right.  You hadn’t wanted to rush things, but the jolt of exhilaration following Lucas’s statement means you can’t deny it any longer: you love Eddie Munson. You’re in love with Eddie Munson. 

“Got it bad, got it bad, got it bad I'm hot for teacher I've got it bad, so bad I'm hot for teacher.”

Will takes the opportunity to twirl you around, and you laugh as you spin amongst new friends, your drink threatening to spill over the sides as he turns you faster.

“Hey! Thank you, by the way!” he shouts, probably a bit louder than he needs to.

“For what?”

“For getting Corroded Coffin to play!” He jerks a thumb towards the stage, stumbling a bit as he does. He’d managed to sneak another tequila shot when his boyfriend left him unattended to use the restroom, and it definitely shows. “And for, like, being there for me.”

You give him a hug, immediately understanding the full implication of his statement. “I’ll always have your back,” you promise, filled with the mingled buzzes of alcohol and belonging.

“I think of all the education that I've missed But then my homework was never quite like this!”

Eddie jumps off of the tiny stage and into the crowd of nine twenty-somethings, each at various levels of tipsiness, and reaches for you to pull you close to him. He’s sweating from constantly moving around and the stage lights, his fingers slick with perspiration as he laces them with yours. Jeff picks up the rhythm for the lead guitar while Eddie kisses you, soft and slow and sensual. He loses himself for a moment before hopping back up to join the rest of the band.

As Corroded Coffin wraps up their Van Halen cover and stops for a quick sip of water, there’s a small commotion behind the bar.

“Is there a Jeff Reynolds here?” the bartender calls out, phone receiver in hand.

Jeff gives a little wave, eyebrows raised in surprise. “That’s me.”

“Someone named Jess on the line? Says your girl is in labor and you need to get to the hospital.”

“Holy shit!” Danny claps a hand to Jeff’s back and grins. “C’mon, man! Let’s get you outta here!” 

Jeff freezes up; hands clammy as he grips the guitar’s neck. “Can you drive?” he asks Eddie. 

Eddie recognizes the fear in his friend’s voice. The selfish part of him wants to refuse to take Jeff to Hawkins General. He could easily plant his feet on the stage and keep playing, claiming that ‘the show must go on.’

No, he silently chastises himself, Jeff needs me. He needs me and I’ll be damned if I let him down again. 

“Of course,” Eddie says, trying to force a relaxed disposition. It doesn’t matter; Jeff is too overwhelmed to notice the obvious effort. 

“Take my car,” you offer, keys already dangling from your fingertips. “Eds, I can take yours and pick up Harris from Wayne’s tomorrow.” It’s easier to swap rides than to uninstall and reinstall the carseat, so you’re perplexed when Eddie shakes his head. 

Two words slip through his lips, soft but pronounced: “Need you.” 

Dustin catches wind of the situation and insists on watching Harris until you and Eddie can come back home, claiming he needs to squeeze in as much uncle-nephew bonding time as possible before returning to Florida. 

“Henderson, it’s late; don’t let him stay up,” Eddie warns as he tosses over his car keys. 

Dustin tries catching them in one hand, but they hit the center of his palm and fall to the ground. “But the best part of being an uncle is breaking the rules!” he laughs as he scoops the keys off of the floor. “By the way, I’m not drunk; just a shit baseball player.” Still, Eddie’s sigh of relief is audible when Suzie plucks the keyring from Dustin’s hand. 

With Harris taken care of, you turn your attention to your boyfriend. Eddie’s face is flushed pale, and you’re worried about him behind the wheel. “Want me to drive?” 

He nods and grabs onto your hand as you lead the two men to your car. Eddie’s doing his best to keep Jeff calm, reminding him that the doctors and nurses have everything under control until he gets there. 

“I’m gonna be a dad,” Jeff murmurs, a disbelieving chuckle permeating the otherwise silent car. “Holy shit.”

Eddie can’t help but smile back. “It only gets crazier from here.”

The bright lights of the hospital’s waiting room are anything but soothing, especially compared to the dimly-lit bar you’d just left. You speak to the receptionist, an older woman with a tired smile and red-rouged cheeks, explaining the situation as she pages Jess while Jeff and Eddie take a seat. 

Jeff’s voice is nearly impossible to hear despite the stillness of the room. “The baby was breech at Viv’s last appointment.” He clocks Eddie’s confusion and elaborates. “Feet first, instead of the head. If they didn’t get into the right position and the doctors can’t, I dunno, flip ‘em around? They’ll have to do a c-section.” Long overdue tears spill over his lash line, and he makes no attempt to swipe them away. “I just wanna fix it and I can’t.”

Helplessness. It’s a feeling Eddie knows all too well. He spins a ring around his finger, exhaling softly as he considers a response. He can’t say it’ll be alright, because he has no idea whether or not it will be. He and Jeff both know that. 

“No matter what, I’m here for you.” Eddie’s gaze flits over to the receptionist’s desk, where Jess has now arrived and is waving her brother-in-law over. “You’re up.”

But Jeff remains in his chair, hands shoved under his thighs as though they’re glued to the seat. “I…I don’t know if I can do this. What if something happens to Viv or the baby? How can I…?” He doesn’t allow himself to complete the sentence, to finish the thought.

Instinctively, Eddie puts his hands on Jeff’s shoulders. He can feel them trembling slightly as his friend heaves another shaky breath. “Listen to me. You’re gonna do this. You’re gonna go in that room and watch your girl give birth to your baby. Because if you don’t, you’re gonna regret it for the rest of your fuckin’ life.” He glances around and lowers his voice. “I know you’re scared, okay? I get it. And once your kid is safely here, we can talk about it. But right now, you need to pull it together and go be a goddamn dad.”

Jeff nods, finally acquiring the physical stability to stand. “Thank you,” he whispers, clearing his throat and wiping the wet stains from his cheeks. He starts towards Jess before turning back to Eddie. “Could you stay until the baby’s born? If you have to get home to Harris, I understand…”

There it is: his out. He can easily use his son as an excuse, despite the fact that Dustin and Suzie were perfectly capable of babysitting him. He can hightail it out of here and never look back. He can crawl into bed and feel sorry for himself for having to step foot in a godforsaken maternity ward again.

“Yeah. I can stay.”

Nearly an hour passes with Eddie’s head resting on your shoulder, relaying what Jeff told him. Identical knots form in your stomachs as the seriousness of the complications sets in. You don’t say a word as he speaks; you just try to shift without disturbing him. The cushion on the chair back, worn thin, digs into you uncomfortably, but you don’t dare move too much. His vulnerability is a deer that will scamper away at the slightest startle.

You think he’s fallen asleep until you feel his soft lips on your cheek, a muffled, “mine?” against your skin. You note his phrasing; it’s careful and unsure, a symptom of being in his own head for far too long. 

“Of course I’m yours,” you whisper back, pressing a kiss to his scalp. “What’s got you asking such silly questions?”

“I don’t like this.” It’s an answer and non-answer all in one. 

“Being in a hospital?”

He shakes his head, frizzed curls tickling the crook of your neck. His forehead is sticky with cooled perspiration. “Waiting to see if the baby is okay.”

The realization hits you like a punch to the stomach, immediately hollowing you out. The last time he went through this, it was when Harris was being born. You can’t think of anything to say, so you just nuzzle in closer to him and exhale.

“Why do I feel like this?” Neither of you are sure if he’s asking you, himself, or the universe. “‘S not the same. Viv’s not using drugs; Jeff stuck around the whole time…”

“Doesn’t matter. That’s not how this stuff works, y’know?” You adjust your position so you can look into his eyes. The whites are stained red with worry and exhaustion. “Your gig got interrupted, just like when Harris was born. And there's uncertainty now, too. It’s normal for these kinds of memories to get dredged up.” Your palm rests on his cheek, thumb gently stroking the skin as you ask, “can you try to get some sleep?”

“But what if Jeff needs—”

“I’ll wake you up if he needs you,” you reassure him, settling back into the chair. You lean your head against the wall; the heaviness in your eyelids battles the anxious fluttering in your stomach, but it seems as though sleep is winning. 

Eddie’s hand finds your forearm, rubbing up and down the gooseflesh that has appeared courtesy of the air conditioning blasting through the building. Shrugging off his jacket and resting the leather fabric over your shoulders, he can relax once he’s reassured that you’re comfortable. He assumes his previous position, using your shoulder as a pillow and falling asleep gradually, body jostling itself awake from the unfamiliar sleeping arrangement. Eventually, you can hear his soft snores; for the first time tonight, he’s peaceful. 

You could tell him now, a whisper under your breath that he’s unlikely to hear. I love you, Eddie. I’m in love with you. Your lips part in anticipation, but you snap them shut. You’re delirious and overwhelmed; Lucas’s throwaway comment about Eddie being in love is rattling around your brain. If you say it and Eddie hears you…

You keep it to yourself for now, letting your body rest while still supporting Eddie’s head. Tomorrow is a new day, with a new life brought into the world. Love—if that’s even what this is—will have to wait until then. 

The soft pink of breaking daylight streams through the windows when Jeff wakes Eddie up six hours later, shaking him by the shoulders. 

“What the fuck?” Eddie grumbles, wiping the sleep from his eyes. When he registers where he is and the potential urgency of the situation, he sits up straight, head filling with fuzziness from the sudden movement. He wouldn’t call the evening restful, but he’d managed to doze off for longer than he’d expected.

“It’s a girl!” Jeff announces, beaming from ear to ear. He’s bouncing on the balls of his feet, bursting with enthusiasm and emotion. 

As soon as Eddie’s vision clears, he’s on his feet and pulling his best friend in for a giant hug. When he steps back, he realizes that he and Jeff sport matching misty eyes. “Dude, you’re officially a dad now. You have a daughter!”

“I have a daughter,” Jeff repeats incredulously. His eyes cloud with tears, and he blinks them away as he peers over at the empty seat next to Eddie. “Did your lady go home?”

Eddie swivels around, so caught up in the moment that he hadn’t realized he was alone. She left. She left without me; she didn’t want to stick around and deal with–

“Did Viv have the baby?” Your excited voice penetrates through his intrusive thoughts as you stroll in from the hallway. The makeup around your eyes is smudged; you’d tried to wipe some of it off in the bathroom, but water and thin hospital paper towels are no substitute for makeup wipes. “Sorry, I had to pee.”

Eddie smiles at the sight of you, still wearing his jacket. He hopes his sigh of relief is concealed by Jeff’s exuberance. “A girl. Six pounds, ten ounces.” He shoves his hands in his pockets. “Wanna meet her?”

“Of course!” You and Eddie begin following him down the corridor. “Wait, is Viv feeling up to having visitors?” You’re mildly ashamed to admit that, in your eagerness, you’d forgotten about the baby being breech and the possible c-section.

Jeff nods. “I think my daughter’s gonna be a gymnast, ‘cause she’d flipped herself back around between the appointment and last night.” 

There’s no masking Jeff’s pride when he says my daughter, and it makes Eddie want to hug him again. “That’s amazing,” he murmurs. There’s a small pang in his heart, a bead of resentment that Harris’s birth didn’t go so smoothly, but it’s unimportant right now. His best friend just became a father, and he refuses to let his own hang-ups take away from this moment. 

“Hi,” you whisper when Jeff opens the door to room 1007. Viv is propped up against pillows, exhausted but happier than she’s ever been before. Your gaze is immediately drawn to the hours-old bundle in her arms. “How are you?”

“Sore,” she replies truthfully, brushing her forefinger against her baby’s closed fist, “but the epidural was a lifesaver.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” you tease, unaware that your words have Eddie’s heart skipping a beat at the idea of you bearing a little Munson. “Is it okay if I hold her?” You don’t want to intrude on the new mother’s bonding time, but your insides turn to mush when the baby opens her tiny lips and yawns. 

Viv carefully places the newborn in your arms, and you gingerly adjust to support her head. Eddie swears that you holding a baby, in that dress, wearing his jacket, is the prettiest thing he’s ever seen. “Did Jeff tell you her name?” Viv asks, stifling a yawn. When you and Eddie both shake your heads, she smiles and glances at her partner. 

He clears his throat, suddenly bashful. Eddie forces himself to tear his gaze from the way you smile and coo at the baby and look over at Jeff. “Her name is Nicolette,” he starts, “but that’s a big name for a little girl, so we figured we can call her Ettie, and she’ll kinda…share a nickname with you.”

Eddie’s eyes go wide, convinced he heard incorrectly. “You…I’m her namesake?”

“Mhm,” Jeff confirms, the grin never leaving his face. What neither you nor Eddie know is that they had had a different name picked out, and had fully intended on using it until the first time Jeff held their daughter. It filled him with a feeling of wholeness, of being complete, and it strangely had him thinking of his best friend. Without Eddie taking him under his wing, he might not even be here to experience this. 

It was only by chance that he had stumbled upon Hellfire Club during his freshman year. He was running from Billy Hargrove and his posse, who were determined to beat the hell out of him simply because they could, and had ducked into the drama room to protect himself. Eddie had taken one look at his face and immediately recognized the expression of fear and defeat from being incessantly bullied. “You know how to play Dungeons & Dragons?” he’d asked, and when Jeff had managed a nod, he’d pulled up a chair and motioned for him to sit down.

Being Eddie’s friend, being part of something, gave him a reason to keep going. To live. And in that instant, he vowed to teach his child to extend kindness toward any misfits who need a place to be themselves.

“What about Nicolette?” he’d asked Viv. “Ettie for short.”

You turn to Eddie now, continuing the steady rocking rhythm that keeps Baby Ettie calm. “What do you say, Mr. Namesake? Wanna hold her?”

There’s a brief flash of panic that floods through his veins; he hasn’t held a newborn since Harris. He’d always worried about dropping him or tripping and falling. Truth be told, he was terrified until his son could hold his own head up.

It’s similar, but not the same, he reminds himself, shuffling even closer to you so you can safely transition Ettie into his arms. She stirs slightly in her swaddle but doesn’t cry.

“Hey, little lady,” he says, a delicate smile dancing on his lips. “I’m your Uncle Eddie. The coolest uncle you’ll ever have, for the record.”

“Harris is gonna love her,” you add, heart swelling at the imagery of him cuddling up to his newest cousin.

“Babe?” Viv pipes up from the bed. “Can you grab me something to eat? ‘M starving.” 

“Yeah, of course.” Jeff turns to Eddie. “Come with me? I think Viv needs to feed Ettie, anyway.”

Viv extends her arms and Eddie begrudgingly hands the baby to her. Ettie’s so adorable and small, and it makes him yearn for the days when Harris was that little. Maybe not the sleepless nights or the lack of head control, but the scent of baby powder, the toothless smiles, the way he would fall asleep in Eddie’s arms to whatever song happened to be on the radio. Harris Munson might have been the only infant to be soothed by Twisted Sister. 

The two men make their way to the hospital cafeteria, sneakers squeaking along the freshly-waxed linoleum tiles.

“I, um, I’m really proud of the way you stepped up for Viv,” Eddie says, eyes trained on the floor. “You’re a great partner. I feel like I should be taking notes.”

Jeff laughs, shaking his head. “That's where my expertise ends. I have no idea how this whole fatherhood thing works.” 

“Wanna hear a secret?” Eddie leans in, shifting his weight onto one foot. He doesn’t wait for his friend’s response to divulge, “none of us do. We’re just…” he waves his hand aimlessly, “…figuring it out as we go.” And making plenty of mistakes along the way, he silently adds.

“I don’t know how you did this alone,” Jeff puffs out an incredulous breath. “I mean, I know you had Wayne’s help…” he trails off, not needing to further elaborate on the missing parent. 

“Yeah, me either, man. I’m just glad I’m not alone anymore.” 

Jeff stops walking, turning to face him. There’s the unmistakable look of pride that manages to make itself prominent despite his evident exhaustion as he says, “You really want this with her, don’t you?”

“Yeah, man,” Eddie chuckles. “It’s like, for the first time, I’m not just thinking about just me or just Harris. I’m thinking about us as a family.” The dinnertime conversations, the gentle ribbings, the tenderness that seamlessly weaves itself into vulnerable conversations. 

“She’s good for you,” Jeff agrees. “And you love her.”

“I mean, I—”

“That was a statement, not a question. You love her.”

And in a single breath, Eddie lets go of the fear he’s been clutching to like a life preserver. The one thing he hasn’t allowed himself to say aloud because it makes it so real, so fucking real.

“I love her.”

--

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[ladyinwriting18]

A Loyal Death Eater (Severus Snape x Reader)

Summary: Severus comes home to find he's been left a gift from The Dark Lord--you.

Words: 4901 Warnings: PIV, Human Given As A Gift, Master/Servant, Pet Names, Fingering, Oral Male Receiving, Dirty Talk. Author's Note: Hiiii if you know me then welcome back--WILL I EVER STICK TO ONE FANDOM TO WRITE FOR? The answer is no lol If this is your first time reading my writing then welcome! I hope you enjoy my first ever Snape one-shot!

Severus Snape is tired. So very tired. Tired of living this double life. Death Eater. The Order. Following Dumblerdor’s orders. Secretly protecting Harry. Funneling particular information to Voldemort for the sake of keeping up appearances. All while teaching potions. The vein in his temple throbs at the mere thought of his students. He doesn’t want to think about them now. He doesn't want to think about anything. All Severus Snape wants is to bury his face into a pillow. And that’s exactly his plan as he walks into his home and heads up the stairs towards his room... That is until he notices the piece of parchment stuck to the bedroom door. He’s immediately on high alert. Tension has his spine straight and his shoulders up by his ears. With his wand drawn, he creeps closer, ready to hex whatever intruder has managed to sneak into his home. But the signature at the bottom gives him pause. Why the hell was The Dark Lord leaving him handwritten notes? Dark eyes scan the entire letter. “To my most loyal Death Eater. I’ve left you a gift. A reward for all of your hard work. Use it however you wish and dispose of it when you’re done with it.”  Severus raises a brow. It? What exactly was waiting for him on the other side of the door?

There was only one way to find out. With a heavy sigh, he pushes open the door, but what he finds stops him dead in his tracks. A woman sits kneeling on the floor beside his bed. Your head is bowed with your hands placed palms up atop your thighs. But the most shocking thing is that you’re completely naked except for a black and green garter belt on your right thigh. “What is the meaning of this?” he commands, still in a mild state of shock at the scene before him. You, however, do not stir, keeping your body still. “Hello, Master. It is a pleasure to meet you. How may I serve you tonight?”  Your voice is warm…feminine…inviting. It draws Severus in and has him stepping into the room. But the closer he gets to you, the more your words sink in. “Forgive me…serve me?” You nod. “Yes, Master. I belong to you now. For as long as you want me.” The realization hits him like a bludger to the face. “You’re…my gift.” You nod again. “From the Dark Lord.” “And why would the Dark Lord send me a human as a gift?” The disgust in his voice isn’t directed at you, but you respond nonetheless. “To use as you see fit. I am yours and any desire my Master has is mine to fulfill.” He doesn’t know a single soul alive or dead who wouldn’t be tempted by such an offer. And though his heart had been lowered into the ground on the same day that Lily’s body was, he is still a man. A man with needs that he hasn’t even dreamt of allowing himself to feel. He’s standing directly in front of you now. “Look at me,” he commands You eagerly obey, and look up at him with large doe eyes. You stare at him with your gaze filled with willingness. He searches your eyes, attempting to find even an ounce of fear or disgust but finds nothing but devotion. As if you truly want nothing more than to serve.

His mouth goes dry and all of his body’s blood supply seems to be traveling south to his cock. This is wrong. Who knows what the Dark Lord had threatened you with…or where he had stolen you from. But everything about you screams submission. It awakens a darker side of himself. One that he hasn’t felt stirring since he was a young, newly appointed Death Eater. Back then Lucius Malfoy would hire girls and throw secret parties down in the dungeons below his estate. It was at these “parties” that Severus found his proclivity for knots…and magically binding girls to the ceiling so he could fuck them until they were begging to cum. It’s a time that he wishes he could scrub clean. Not only from his mind but from the history books of his life. Shame had accompanied him at those parties because he knew this was a part of him that he couldn’t share with Lilly. Even if James Potter had never been in the picture and Lilly had somehow been his. She was too lovely and sweet for that sort of depravity. She would have never enjoyed such things. And he would never— “Master?” Your voice pulls him from his thoughts, his eyes focusing back on you just as you reach out to take his hand. Your grip is so light, almost as if you’re worried your touch will offend him. “I want to please you. Want to give you whatever it is you need. Please? All I want is to be a good girl for you.” A good girl. His cock throbs. How you knew exactly what to say, baffles him. Perhaps you were a skilled Legilimens—allowing you a peek into his thoughts. Either way, you said the phrase that never failed to stop him in his tracks. He grips your hand more firmly and lets his other move to your cheek—to see if you’ll flinch at his touch. But, bloody hell, you lean into his palm and press your lips to the pad of his thumb. Never once averting your gaze. He lets out a breath that he wasn’t aware he was holding. You’re all his.  “You said you’ll fulfill any request?” His thumb grazes over your bottom lip, opening it to reveal the tiniest bit of the inside of your mouth. “Anything,” you concur. His mind races with endless possibilities. He hasn’t tapped into this part of himself in years. It makes him antsy to claim you. But Severus Snape is not a rash man. He does not allow his emotions to make him sloppy. He is cunning and calculating. And more importantly, he knows exactly how he’ll have you prove yourself. He slides his foot forward, placing his black leather dress shoe in front of you. “Kiss it.” Immediately, you obey, positioning yourself on all fours before leaning down to press your lips to the tip. But you don’t stop there. In fact, you cover the entire top of his shoe with kisses. With each kiss, you let out a soft, sweet noise–as if this act of obedience is actually bringing you pleasure. 

Severus lets out a rough command, “Don’t stop.” You don’t, lowering your upper body further onto the floor, but purposely keeping your hips in the air to showcase the curve of your ass. Your kisses turn to licks, making the top of his boot glisten with your spit. The sight of both almost makes him lose control. “Keep going,” he says through clenched teeth, feeling his cock pulsing within the constraints of his pants. You pull your torso off the floor, moving closer to him so you can start kissing and nuzzling your way up the length of his leg. Not once do you break eye contact. You look at him without fear, without disgust, without judgment. 

It's an unusual occurrence for him. He’s used to his students being intimidated by the mere mention of his name. Even in his school days, he had never been known as a looker. But this is different. You are different. You look at him with reverence and lust while you continue your path up his leg. However, once you reach his groin, you stop and sit back on your heels. You return to your earlier position, with your feet tucked under you and your hands resting palms up atop your knees. You’re so submissive. It’s perfection. “You’re waiting for my command, aren’t you?” he asks, moving his hand to hover over the bulge in his pants.

Your eyes dart at the movement of his hand that’s now slowly rubbing his erection through his pants. You seem transfixed but still manage to reply.

“Yes, Master. I’m your property. My sole purpose is to please you.”

“My property?” he breathes, freeing his aching cock from his trousers.  

He watches with satisfaction when your eyes widen at the sight of it. 

You only nod, too busy watching as he starts to slowly stroke the shaft of his cock. He does this more to tease you than for his own pleasure. It clearly works because you fidget ever so slightly. “You’re my property,” he repeats, louder to refocus you. “My beautiful…little good girl.” Severus pants between words, stroking himself with a firmer grip.

“Yes, Master,” you moan with a lick of your lips. “I’m your good girl.”

“Then prove it by sucking your Master’s cock.” 

You almost take him by surprise with how fast you rise onto your knees. Gently, you nudge his hand away before wrapping your own around the base of his cock. You hold eye contact with him while tracing your tongue over the veins in his shaft. “You taste so good,” you moan out and drag your tongue along the underside until you reach the tip. You clearly know what you’re doing. Severus swears his heart beats in time with the flicking of your tongue. Your hand and mouth work simultaneously—tugging firmly while playfully licking. That is until your hand falls away so you can swallow his cock whole. “Bloody hell,” he swears, involuntarily bucking his hips forward.  

Pleased by his reaction, you hum and tighten your lips around him as you pick up your pace, bobbing your head up and down while sucking him off. He watches you intently. His dark brown eyes burn almost black as you suck him off like your life depended on it. “The good girl is enjoying this, isn’t she?” he hotly whispers, cock stiffening in your mouth. You nod with a mischievous twinkle in your eye. The sounds of you slurping and sucking with such passion sends Severus into a frenzy. His fingers twitch with the need to touch you. Your mouth is warm and so fucking inviting, like his cock was always meant to be there. He wants…no—needs more. No longer able to keep his hands to himself, Severus’ hand grips the back of your head. Long, nimble fingers tangle within the locks of your hair and start to move you up and down at just the right pace. Obeying his physical commands, you allow him to fuck your mouth while you drool all over him. So much so that he can feel saliva dripping onto his balls. Fuck you were messy. He loves it. Almost too much. But you’re looking at him with an affectionate gaze and it only makes him want more. Both of his hands grip onto your head, thrusting his hips forward so he could slam his cock into your throat. Your hands grab his thighs to try to hold yourself steady and not gag. “That’s it,” he grunts, “choke on your Master’s cock.” You groan with brows knitting together while saliva drips from the corner of your mouth. Severus would have thought he was being too rough if it wasn’t for your crumpled, pleasure-stricken face. He allows himself a moment to take you all in, wanting to commit you to his memory. So that when you’re gone, he’ll still have this image of you prettily sucking his cock. That’s when he notices you pressing your thighs together. Fire pools within his rib cage. You’re actually getting off on this. On pleasing him. On gagging on him. On obeying him. Suddenly, having you down on your knees isn’t enough. “Stand up,” he commands and forcefully pulls away, slipping his cock from your mouth. You take a moment to catch your breath and wipe the spit from your chin. Wanting to give you time to compose yourself, he keeps himself busy by stripping fully out of his clothing and casting a quick protection and contraceptive spell with a few flicks of his wand. By the time you’re on your feet, he’s standing before you naked. Your eyes run over his form and take a step forward with hands outstretched as if you want to touch. He doesn’t give you the chance. Instead, he places his hands on your shoulders and pushes you backward until your knees hit the side of his bed and you fall back onto the mattress with a surprised yelp. Your gaze shifts, looking at him towering over you with large eyes. He steps forward, nudging your knees apart with his leg. “Be a good girl and open wider for me.” Your knees fall apart, giving him a full view of your cunt. 

“You’re so wet,” he breathes, in awe that you’re already dripping when he hasn’t so much as touched you. Calloused fingertips run up your inner thighs. The skin there is tender so you shiver until they make contact with your cunt and a chorus of sweet melodies leave your parted lips. You greedily grind into his touch, already wanting more. With a grin, he enjoys himself as he plays with you. He prods your opening and watches your eyelids flutter close. “What a needy cunt you have.” He means it as a compliment, but it’s laced with a snark that’s meant to embarrass you. It works, color flushing over your cheeks. “It’s your cunt now, Master. All of me is yours.” It’s clear that being owned is a massive turn-on for you. And if he’s honest, he’s more than happy to play this game. “That’s right,” he breathes, fingers tracing up towards your clit. “Every inch of you is mine. Including your clit.” He applies pressure to the sensitive bud, causing you to whine and twitch. You nearly come undone from how skillfully he draws circles on your clit. But every time you buck your hips forward, his fingers move away.  “More Master. Please, give me more.” You whine and twitch, pleading sweetly. So sweetly that it’s impossible for him to continue teasing you. His fingers move to your entrance, and he plunges them inside your tightness.  You cry out in surprise, both hands grabbing ahold of the arm pressed between your thighs. His fingers are long and thick, moving in and out in slick quick thrusts. He finger fucks you mercilessly and you love it. 

You toss your head back, mouth falling open wide as you moan towards the ceiling.

Severus leans in, caging you beneath his body, and nuzzles his nose along the side of your face. His body is pressed against yours now and you gasp at the feeling of his hard cock leaking precum on your thigh.  “Master…” you whimper, and he chuckles before whispering hotly into your ear. “This belongs to me as well. This tight dripping cunt is mine. Is that understood?” he asks while picking up the pace of his fingers. You struggle to respond, tripping over your words but he doesn’t relent—wanting you to work through the pleasure. “Y-Yes. Yes, Master! I-I understand.” He hums his praise, calling you a good girl before falling silent. For the next few minutes, the only sounds heard are the sounds of your desperate cries and the wet squelching sounds of your cunt. Your orgasm is drawing closer, threatening to take you over. “I…I’m going to–” But your words aren’t needed because Severus knows what a woman looks like before she’s about to cum. “I know, sweet thing,” he cuts you off, looking at you and holding eye contact. “But cumming for me is a privilege. One you must ask for.” You nod your head, gripping his arm tighter, “May I cum? Please let me cum for my Master?”  With a proud grin, he says the three most glorious words. “Cum for me.” The permission is all you need, the cord inside you snapping. 

Your body goes rigid and your ability to speak is replaced with breathy, unrestrained moans. Your orgasm hits you hard, but it’s only when you limply slump back onto the mattress that he carefully removes his fingers from you. They’re soaked in your juices. Severus suddenly finds himself very parched. You’re looking up at him with a flushed face and glossed-over eyes but are clearly too focused on catching your breath. So, he lets you watch as he brings his fingers to his mouth to suck them clean. You make a noise of surprise, mesmerized by his mouth. Satisfied with this small taste of you, he releases his fingers with a soft ‘pop’. “Mmmh, delicious.”  “I’m glad Master thinks so. Thank you for letting me cum,” you murmur politely.

And just when he thought you couldn’t be any more perfect. Sitting beside you on the bed, he grabs your upper arms and hauls you towards him. He crashes his lips onto yours, forcing his tongue inside of your mouth. You return the kiss in a flurry of passion as your hands begin to roam freely over his body. Starting from his shoulder, you trail your hands down his bare chest to his hip bones. He moans into your mouth, enjoying the feeling of your soft hands and the way you gently suck at his tongue. Your hands continue downward until your fingertips brush against his still very hard cock. He breaks the kiss with a smirk. “Is there something you want, Little One?” You brush your lips against his with a nod. “I want to help my Master to cum.” He can already guess what you’re about to say, but still, Severus tucks a lock of hair behind your ear and whispers, “And how do you plan to do that?” “However you’d like me to.” Your answer is immediate but something tells him it isn’t the entire truth. His fingers grip your jaw, tilting it so you’re forced to maintain eye contact with him. “Tell me how you want to make your Master cum.” With wide eyes, the truth pours from your mouth like uncorked wine. “My cunt. Please use my cunt.” Your plea is so desperate that he doesn’t waste any more time leaning in closer until you have to shift your position to lay back on the bed. With a nudge to your thighs, your legs part to accommodate him as he places a hand beside your head, trapping you beneath him. He’s settled between your thighs now with his cock pressed against your core. You moan in unison at the contact. As if it’s painful for both of you to not have him buried inside. 

Your hands run from his forearms, over his shoulders, and down his chest. “Take me, please. Let me feel my Master’s cock inside.”

He straightens his back and guides your legs to wrap around his waist fully. You continue to plead, but instead of giving you a verbal reply, he plunges balls deep inside of you. You both instantly tense. He, because of the tightness of your walls clinging around him, and you, because of the sudden intrusion of his cock demanding to be taken. “That’s it. Taking me so well,” he breathlessly praises, slowly moving out, then back in so you’d have time to adjust. Severus had always refused to inflict pain on his partners that they hadn’t consented to and begged for. And he isn’t about to start now. So he waits until he feels you relax.

Your head lulls to the side with a moan, feeling beyond stuffed full, but also whole.

You coo, arching into him. Severus knew he couldn’t keep his movements slow for much longer.

“Is this what you want? To be fucked until I own this cunt?” “Yes!” you whine, starting to grind your hips in an attempt to get his cock deeper. “I want my Master to ruin me for anyone else.” It’s the word ruin that does him in. Unable to wait any longer he slams into you. You yelp, grabbing ahold of his forearms and sinking your nails into his flesh. The slight bite of pain only spurs him on, his pace anything but slow. The rough and steady rhythm of his thrusts has you already clenching around him. 

He isn’t sure where to look. At your beautiful face scrunched up in pleasure, or at your cunt that’s currently swallowing him whole. You toss your head back, slightly obscuring you from his view. So he settles his gaze downward–watching how his cock glistens from your juices every time he pulls out. It’s an intoxicating sight.

One that threatens to force him to spill himself inside of you. But he won’t. Not yet. Not until he’s done enjoying you for a bit longer. Not until he can make you cum again. He grabs some of your hair and tugs so you’re forced to look back at him. “You love this, don’t you? Using your cunt to please me?” Your legs wrap even tighter around his waist, drawing closer…deeper. “Yes, Master! Feels so good pleasing you!” Pressure builds in your lower belly from the orgasm that’s steadily approaching. It feels like he’s everywhere. In you. On you. All over you. “M-Master I—so close. P-Please.” 

You’re struggling to form words but he already knows what you’re trying to say. He reaches between your bodies to your clit and rubs it, strokes it, and draws circles on it until he finds the touch that has you babbling in broken, indecipherable sentences.

“I want you to cum,” he speaks in labored breaths, teasing your clit while still spearing you on his length. “I want you to cum for me now.”

For a moment, you fall completely silent, but then it hits. The unfiltered, beautiful howls that accompany your climax. All the while, your inner walls close around him in the most delicious way. He curses, lurching forward as you gush and spasm around him. It’s too much, and he’s quickly following you over the edge, filling you with his cum. You both tremble through your aftershocks, unable to detangle from one another while coming down from your highs. He feels like a new man after cumming for the first time in God knows how long. But one look at you and your sleep-heavy eyes has him focusing on steadying his breathing faster. Memories from his past return to him, and words like aftercare play through his mind. It displeases him that he doesn’t know what you require right now—space or intimacy? Deciding it’s best to take the middle ground, he slowly slips out of you but sits on the edge of the bed beside you. He takes the utmost care not to jostle you but you don’t seem to notice because you’ve already turned onto your side facing him. You make yourself comfortable, curling up with your eyes closed and a relaxed smile tugging at the corners of your mouth. Relieved, he lets out a breath and runs his hand through his dark locks to move it off his face. “That felt amazing. Thank you, Master,” you mumble happily into his pillow. “Call me Severus.” “As you wish, Master Severus.” A spark of warmth emanates from his chest. He likes the way you say his name. It makes him feel things. He reaches for you, tugging you into his arms to help you sit up. At first, you whine, but relax when he pulls you to sit between his thighs and leans you against his chest. He holds you close and whispers, “Will you tell me your name?” You peek up at him with a smile and say it. He repeats it, liking the way your name rolls off his tongue. You nod, your smile widening across your face. He can’t stop himself from stroking your cheek. “I’ll be right back.” He stands, making his way over to his wardrobe. “Get yourself ready for bed, Little One.” He calls from over his shoulder as he uses his wand for a simple cleansing spell. Since you’ve managed to coat even his balls in your slick. 

Afterward, he slips on a pair of black silk pajama pants. He’s about to put a shirt on when he turns back to you, expecting to find you dressed, but instead, he finds you sitting on his bed and watching him. “Where are your night robes?” You fidget uncomfortably, looking away. Severus should have known this wouldn’t last. He tries to disguise his disappointment but fails. “If you don’t wish to stay, then just say so.” The ice in his voice is evident and you snap your head up in his direction. “I-It’s not that!” you protest. “I want to stay. I just…don’t have any clothes.” His frown deepens, “The Dark Lord didn’t leave your clothes here for you?” You shake your head ‘no’. This only confuses him further. To have you waiting for him nude was clearly meant to entice him, but to leave you with nothing to wear after doesn’t make sense. “No personal belongings at all? I don’t understand how he expected you to get home after this.” You flinch, once again looking away. “He said…” you trail off. “Never mind, Master.” He didn’t need spells or potions to see the discomfort radiating off of you. With the long-sleeved shirt he had intended for himself in hand, he makes his way over to you. Of course, he could have simply conjured you some clothing, but if he’s being honest with himself— He wants you wrapped up in him for a while longer. “Arms up.”

You lift your head and see the shirt in his hands. You obey, and he slips the shirt over your head to help you dress. “It’s a tad big on you, but it will do until morning.” You pull your knees to your chest while muttering a ‘thank you’. There’s still something bothering you and Severus is determined to figure out what it is. “Look at me,” he commands, knowing you’ll obey. When you do, he continues, “Tell your Master what’s bothering you.” Perhaps it isn’t right for him to pull the ‘dom’ card when you aren’t technically his submissive, but he needs the truth. You stall for a little longer, gnawing on your bottom lip until you finally respond, “The Dark Lord told me that I didn’t need to pack any of my things because he didn’t believe you’d want me after you were through with me.” “I see…What else did the Dark Lord tell you?”

“That I belong to whoever comes into the room, and that I was to serve them until they no longer had use for me. Which he predicted would be just for tonight…Then he–” You falter, bravery abandoning you. He lets out a breath, resisting the urge to scrub at his eyes. Of course, he had threatened you. Placing a finger underneath your chin, he gently raises it. Your eyes flutter, struggling to meet his gaze. “You’re afraid of him, aren’t you?” You only nod. “You have my word that you’re under my protection now. Do you understand?” You nod again and summon your bravery so you can continue. “Then he said that maybe he would pass me around to the other Death Eaters or maybe he’d use me himself.” Severus can’t explain the jealousy that boils within him. But it’s there. Hot and nauseating. Suddenly, he can’t bear the thought of another having you. Not Voldemort. Not anyone. “No one is allowed to touch what’s mine.” The threat of his words hangs in the air, but you look relieved. “You…You mean you’ll keep me here with you?” He hadn’t realized he had said that aloud. Honestly, he hadn’t thought that far ahead. All he knew was that the only hands he wanted on you were his. “Is that…something you’d want?” You smile bright, brighter than the summer’s sun. “Nothing would make me happier, Master.” As beautiful as you are, and as lovely as it sounds to have a warm cunt to bury himself in each night, the cold blade of reality cuts through. “Listen to me, there are still many things we’ll need to discuss—”But you aren’t listening because you’re too busy crawling into his lap. You straddle him and nuzzle your face into the side of his neck.

“Thank you, Severus,” you whisper against his skin, melting against his body as you make yourself comfortable.

No one has ever thanked him in his entire life. He isn’t sure how to handle it.

The longer you lay against him, the more a warmth blooms inside his breastbone.

He can’t deny how good it feels to have you close.

Things can’t be this simple can they?

Nothing in his life had ever been simple.

You let out a small sigh, seemingly starting to fall asleep while sitting up. It tears him from his thoughts and instead has him worried about your comfort. He shifts and lays down on the bed with you still tucked into his chest.

He had no way of knowing if this would work, but bloody hell did you fit perfectly against him.

Years of tension seemingly start to melt away as sleep threatens to take him over.

Voldemort had given you to him for being his most loyal Death Eater.

And while nothing could be further from the truth, Severus Snape can’t help but think.

This was the best damn present he’d ever received.

[poitionsprince]

Wondering how many just comfortably forgot that McGonagall put Neville's life in risk in his third year?

He 'lost' his list of passwords (Crookshanks stole it) which resulted in Sirius getting in the dorms.

When Neville confessed it was his - she turned to all the students and told them to not dare tell him the password. He was dependent on others letting him in (after Sirius already got into the castle and could very much do so again).

It came to a point where the trio were sneaking out - and walked on Neville sleeping at the entrance.

Now not even speaking on how they didn't notice Neville was not on the dorms, or that the prefect didn't check on him, or Percy who was a head boy - but his own Head of House who told everyone to not give him the password didn't even check of he got in.

He was basically forced to stay out of a safe place (also denying him proper sleeping and access to his belongings and to sanitary necessities) - while there's a supposed mass murderer trying to get to Harry - who's in the Gryffindor dorms.

She was risking his life in their eyes not knowing Sirius is innocent.

Yet somehow Snape is worse then her for telling Neville he's going to feed his toad whatever he brewed.

Good to know.

[choppedbouquetswhisperedsecrets]

~Caught red handed~

[Part one]

Pairing – Theodore Nott x fem!Gryffindor!reader

Summary – y/n acts as cupid for her friend (which means risking her life or worse getting expelled), but what happens when nothing goes according to plan?

Word Count – 3,478

Warnings – (nothing serious) fluff, swearing (if you count idiot), very lengthy, pangs of jealousy, miscommunication

A/N – this is my first one yet, and I wrote this cos I’m sure I’m not the only one who’s hopelessly crushing over our boi Theo. I hope you enjoy! (Even though its sooo long) Love you lots <3

You hear your heavy breaths underneath Harry’s Cloak of invisibility as you stand silently in place, waiting for someone to come. The dungeons aren’t the brightest of places and it isn’t the most comfortable either. Underneath the cloak, you start to feel yourself sweat, when a bunch of students in Slytherin uniform stop in front of a wall and, giving the pass code, the entrance is opened. Before it’s too late, you scurry after them, making sure not to make a sound. 

You don’t know how well Harry’s cloak works. But this, as Sophie claims, was the only way she could truly show Mattheo Riddle to what extent she was going, to show how much she liked him. And that included having to sneak into the Slytherin common hall. Trust Sophie to chicken out and bribe you with chocolate to get you to do her bidding. Of course you refused her at first- you couldn’t risk an expulsion. But then she got Ginny in on it, and here you are: sweating and exhausted, wrapped in Harry’s cloak and not to forget, the letter Sophie wrote for her “one true love” weighing in your hand.

Following the students into the hall, you muse to yourself that if you succeed in this mission without getting caught, maybe you could become a spy in the future. You chuckle softly, when a small gasp escapes your lips as you take in the sight of the hall. A formal and elegant ambiance fills the place while streaks of green and silver run everywhere: from the curtains to the furniture, along with the carpets and tapestries. Silver chandeliers hang from the ceiling and even though it’s dim and creepy, it’s cozier than it looks.

You carefully navigate through students who come your way as you make sure not to bump into anyone, walking slowly. You scan the place for the boy’s dorm and see a few Slytherin guys walk out from an entrance to the right. Amidst your gut telling you to stop and just run back out, you walk ahead, convincing yourself it’ll be over soon.

You mumble the room number repeatedly under your breath as you search for Mattheo’s room, almost giving away your presence once or twice. Finally, you reach the idiot’s room and thankfully the door isn’t locked. You manage to squeeze through the small door gap and seeing that nobody is around, you can finally take off the cloak, even if it’s a little bit.

You take deep and relaxing breaths before you’re about to place the card on the bedside table, when you hear someone enter and the door close behind you. You quickly turn and your eyes widen in horror as you remember you didn’t cover yourself yet.

Guess spy work isn’t for me.

Your eyes lock with a set of green ones belonging to a charmingly handsome guy. He looks as perplexed as you, but there’s a hint of amusement on his face and his lips crack into a smirk.

‘This is new,’ the green eyed guy says as he leans against his bed frame, hands crossed. ‘I wasn’t expecting a girl to be in my room, let alone a…Gryffindor.’ He raises an eyebrow and grins.

Your palms are forming pools of sweat and it feels like as if you’ve completely froze, not being able to move or say a word. Is this Mattheo??

‘I-I was only meaning to….’ You start, but what can you say? You were doomed, by Merlin’s beard. You swallow hard, trying to process what to do as you clutch the letter tighter. The guy comes closer to you, where you can smell his citrusy scent at the back of your throat.

‘Yes? Merlin got your tongue?’ he chuckles at his own joke and the sound of him laughing does something weird to your stomach. ‘No, I was only…I’m here to give something to someone,’ you manage to blurt out. The guy looks carefully at you and his eyes trail down to the letter in your hand. With a coy look on his face, he goes ‘Is that-’

‘Just read it!’ you yell abruptly, interrupting him as you shove the letter into his chest, earning a slight groan from the guy. You quickly cover yourself with the cloak again and rush out, ignoring his calls for you.

…..

‘You’re the best, y/n!’ Sophie squeals as she hugs you. Ginny is sitting on her bed, shaking her head in disbelief as she tucks away Harry’s cloak of Invisibility. ‘You actually did it,’ she says and grins. You fall to your bed, sighing and throw a pillow at Ginny. ‘Of course I did. Except-’

You relate the little incident you had with the guy and wince as you think back to it. ‘You don’t think he’ll report me, do you?’ you ask your friends. Sophie confidently answers in the negative. ‘He’s a Slytherin; if there’s anything he likes, its rule breaking and trouble. Besides, Mattheo isn’t the type to snitch,’ Sophie says and dreamily sighs as she falls back down on her bed.

‘His green eyes were mesmerizing for sure,’ you add and chuckle, but a confused Sophie interrupts you. ‘Green eyes? Mattheo has brown eyes, y/n,’ she says and suddenly her eyes widen as she pieces two and two together. ‘Wait, y/n, who did you give the letter to?!’ Sophie wails as you bring your hands to your mouth, aghast. You see Ginny thinking hard.

‘Green eyes…don’t tell me you gave that letter to Theodore Nott, y/n,’ Ginny says, causing Sophie to go into another fit. You feel your insides twist and you wince as you look at Sophie. ‘What are we supposed to do?’ you hear yourself asking. Sophie looks accusingly at you. ‘You are going to get that letter back-‘

‘I’m sorry, Soph, but I’m not returning to that place again,’ you snap, shaking your head. ‘This wouldn’t have happened if you just gave the letter directly to Mattheo.’ You reason with her, angry, but become filled with guilt when you see her pouting. ‘But, if it’s any consolidation, I’ll get the letter back if you’d like,’ I give in with a sigh. Sophie’s face lights up and she nods like a puppy. ‘That’d be great!’ she says and you groan, before landing face down on your bed.

Godric knows what you’ve got yourself into.

…..

He’s supposed to be here.

You’re scanning through the flock of students that pour out of Professor Snape’s class, searching for Theodore Nott. He should have been out by now, since he has to catch Transfiguration next. You know this because you’re supposed to be there too, and you’re running out of time. You frown as it starts getting awkward, with the students giving you looks as they walk past you wondering what you’re doing.

When you approach the classroom a little closer, your eyes land on a tall figure standing in front of Professor Snape, who looks like he’s lecturing whoever it is in front of him. You realize its Theodore and can’t help but wonder what happened.

The look on Theodore’s face is amusing enough for you to crack a wide grin, which catches his wandering eyes. He quickly glances at you and raises an eyebrow. However, this causes Professor Snape to pinch his ear. You wince as Professor Snape twists Theo’s ear. ‘Are you even listening to me, Mr. Nott?’ Professor’s voice booms while Theo is wincing in pain, but suppressing a shameless smile nonetheless.

Professor Snape follows where Theo was looking before and he sees you. You’re startled of course, but you can’t do anything, so you just stand there, while Prof. Snape walks to you at the entrance of the class. ‘Is there anything I can help you with, Miss y/l/n?’ You hear the Professor ask as your brain tries to come up with an excuse. ‘Prof-Professor McGonagall requests Mr. Nott’s presence,’ you blurt out a lie and your heartbeat increases as Professor Snape eyes you up and down with a scowl.

‘Alright.’ He finally says and turns his back on you, as you let out a breath of relief. ‘Professor McGonagall is asking for you, Mr. Nott,’ the Professor says. ‘I will allow you to go this time, but don’t let me catch you sleeping in class again,’ he adds sternly before Theodore apologizes and heads out with his books.

‘Professor McGonagall isn’t asking for me, is she?’ Theodore asks, smirking at you after you’ve lead the two of you to a more secluded spot. You shake your head embarrassingly as you tighten your grip on your books. ‘Godric knows he’ll be fuming if he finds out you lied to him,’ Theo adds and chuckles lightly.

‘It’s about yesterday…’ you start, and Theo’s face light up. ‘Ah, yes, I remember. Don’t worry,’ he says with a wink. ‘I have the letter with me. Who knew someone could be so madly in love?’ you hear him chuckle. ‘That’s the problem: it’s not for you,’ you break it to him and his face relaxes into a coy one. ‘I figured. Like I said, don’t worry, I handed it to Mattheo,’ Theo assures as you release a breath.

‘Thank you,’ you mumble and Theo nods. ‘I was supposed to give it to him, but I got…let’s say confused, when I saw you, so,’ you explain and Theo smiles. ‘I understand,’ he says and suddenly silence fills the atmosphere as you realize you’re staring into his pretty green eyes again. You shake your head and snap out of it as you remember your next class.

‘Merlin! I’ve got Transfigurations,’ you say and watch as Theo’s face turns into realization. ‘Me too. Want to walk together?’ He asks, rubbing his nape. ‘We are going to the same class after all.’ He shrugs and you nod. ‘I don’t think we’ve properly introduced each other. I’m Theodore Nott,’ he greets. ‘I know,’ you say abruptly, realizing there’s a smirk on his face. ‘I mean, we’re in the same class. But I’m y/n y/l/n,’ you give a small smile. ‘I know,’ you hear Theo say and raise an eyebrow. ‘Let me guess, we’re in the same class?’ you ask with a smirk and he nods. ‘You got me,’ he chuckles.

‘You know, I’m curious as to how one doesn’t remember their crush’s face,’ Theo asks as the two of you head to class. You glance at him just in time to see his toothy smile, eyes closed and head shaking in disbelief. You catch yourself smiling and quickly give yourself a mental slap.

‘I don’t like Mattheo,’ you explain, clutching your books closer to your chest. ‘I was helping a friend, who was too chicken to do anything,’ you say the last part in a bitter way, remembering Sophie as you roll your eyes. ‘You didn’t write that letter for Riddle?’ Theo asks, sounding surprised and a slight hint of relief. You look at him and shake your head. ‘Not at all,’ you say in disbelief. ‘Mattheo is the last person I would ever like.’ You catch a subtle frown on Theo’s face.

‘Because he’s a Slytherin?’ He asks, much to your surprise. You’re left thinking but just shrug. ‘That, and other things.’ You nod. ‘What other things?’ Theo asks, making him look suspicious to you but you just comply. ‘Well, for one, I don’t know him,’ you say, tucking away a strand of hair and clutching your books to your side. Theo nods and goes silent. ‘Do you have someone you like?’

Your neck snaps at Theo when he asks the question. ‘What?’ He shrugs and you see a grin on his face, looking innocent. Your eyes narrow a bit comically. ‘You’re being suspicious, Nott,’ you joke. ‘Besides, why would I tell you if I had a crush or not?’ you keep up with the sassy attitude and even walk a bit with your nose held high. But you break character next second and go into fits of laughter as Theo chuckles with you.

‘Don’t get me wrong; I was only asking to...you know...make small talk,’ Theo says and you can’t help but notice a shadow pass through his eyes. Could it be…? You shake your head even thinking of it. The two of you barely know each other; how can you expect Theodore to have something for you? You almost laugh out loud.

‘I know, I know, I was just kidding,’ you say instead and grin at him. ‘We need to pick up the pace; time’s ticking,’ you raise your eyebrows as you motion to your wrist like a watch.

‘We won’t reach there on time, not unless we…’ Theo trails off and you feel a smirk forming on your face. ‘I’m not a track champion for no reason,’ you challenge and suddenly the two of you are running to class, sprinting past students and across corridors, thankfully reaching on time, although tired and panting.

‘First,’ Theo says as he looks down at you, and you shake your head. ‘You wish, Nott. I reached sooner,’ you say and your Professor puts an end to your bickering by calling the two of you in as the class looks on. Soon you’re sitting in your usual seat next to Ginny, who’s giving you a weird look after seeing you come in with Theodore.

‘What was that about?’ Ginny whispers as you try to focus on the lesson at hand. ‘What was what?’ you pretend not to understand what she asks, and hear her eyes practically roll. ‘Don’t act dumb, y/n. You and Nott, of course.’

‘I cleared the misunderstanding, that’s all,’ you huff in response. Why did she have to be so nosy? ‘And now you’re friends?’ Ginny continues pestering you. ‘No,’ you whisper, but loud enough that you get a few weird stares from some students, even Theo, who shoots you a smile from his seat. ‘Yeah, not friends. Understood,’ Ginny smirks and finally leaves you alone as you roll your eyes and sigh in defeat.

‘He is cute,’ you hear Ginny creep up to your ears after a few minutes, and almost hit her hard enough to send her to Godric’s Hallow. ‘Ginny!’ you whisper-shout and glare at her but she just shrugs. ‘I’m just saying,’ she defends and you shake your head as you get back to your worksheet. ‘I wouldn’t be so friendly with him though; he’s bad news,’ Ginny adds. ‘Oh well, at least he has a girlfriend, so I know he’s not trying to get his hands all over you, break your heart or something.’ You only roll your eyes at her but the girlfriend part piques your interest and you can’t help but ask, ‘He does?’ Ginny nods.

‘Well, obviously. He’s always surrounded by a crowd of fan girls wherever he goes,’ Ginny mentions casually. ‘But remember,’ she points with a finger to her temple. ‘Bad news.’  For some strange reason, you feel a pit open in your stomach, as you glance at Theo but catch him already staring. Your eyes widen a bit, and Theo smirks.

What happened? He wiggles his eyebrows and you shake your head. Done? He holds up his worksheet and you glance down at yours, before shaking your head again. He chuckles softly and just then, before you’re able to finish your work, the bell rings, indicating lunch.

You arrange your books as your Professor gives the closing remarks and this time you head to the dining hall with Ginny, catching up with Sophie and the others, while Theodore is with his friends. At the hall, you sit down at the Gryffindor table, where Sophie impatiently pulls you down before you’re fully seated.

‘Ow!’ you yelp as Sophie tugs at your sleeve and looks over at Theodore, next to him is seated Mattheo. ‘I trust the problem is solved?’ she asks and you nod, wincing as you rub your arm. ‘Good. What’s up with you and Nott though?’ Sophie asks as she resumes eating.

‘What’s wrong? Does it look like something happened? Why are you asking?’ You question frantically. ‘No, nothing happened. Why are you so worked up? Calm down; I’m only asking because he keeps looking this way,’ Sophie points with a chicken leg at the Slytherin table, where you look over. Sure enough, you catch Theo staring at you with a small smile. He wiggles his eyebrows again, and you return a small smile.

‘See, something is definitely going on between the two of you, but you’re not telling us,’ Sophie accuses and you only roll your eyes. ‘If I were you, I’d be a little careful around that one, y/n,’ Sophie whispers and you glare at her as she shrugs innocently. ‘What is y/n not telling us?’ Ron suddenly asks, mouth half filled with food. ‘Gross, Ron. Atleast swallow your food and then talk,’ Ginny grumbles but Ron ignores his sister.

‘Did you put my cloak to good use?’ Harry asks, as you sheepishly look at him and remember what you used his cloak for. You nod. ‘I never did ask you what you wanted Harry’s cloak for,’ Ron says casually, picking at a piece of his food, which catches you off guard.

‘Uh…i…I used it for…’ you look at Sophie and Ginny for help, since they were the main culprits. You didn’t specifically tell Harry what you were going to use the cloak for but made sure to add ‘for educational purposes’. Besides, the whole table knew about Sophie’s crush on Mattheo, but you were sure fewer people would be willing to help them get together, even people like Harry.

‘It was a little prank, no worries,’ Sophie shrugs and you awkwardly agree with her, Harry and Ron thankfully getting off of your back. But Hermione has new suspicions. ‘Was it you at the library the other day? The one who kept knocking down books to annoy me?’ She narrows her eyes down at you and you shake your head quickly, wondering what you did to ever deserve this much trouble.

‘What happened?’ Ron asks, thankfully diverting the attention, making Hermione launch into her woeful tale of how she couldn’t concentrate in the library the other day when someone kept knocking books over and over again. ‘I kept placing the books back in their shelves but got frustrated in the end,’ your ears caught Hermione saying, but your eyes kept hovering over to Theodore. What if he was staring again?

Right now, he was chuckling with his friends, their laughter echoing in the Great Hall despite the constant chattering of other students. You can’t help but feel a faint smile on your lips as you see him so happy.

‘Y/n?’ you feel someone nudge you and you suddenly get back to your senses. ‘Wow, you guys hate me so much for liking Mattheo, but looks like we have to worry about one more Gryffindor falling for a Slytherin,’ Sophie says and avoids your eyes, while you look at her aghast.

‘I do not like Theodore Nott,’ you state sternly. ‘She never said you did,’ Ginny butts in and your neck snaps at her, glaring. ‘You did walk in with Nott for Transfigurations, didn’t you?’ Hermione asks and you look at her desperately. ‘Maybe something is going on between the two of you,’ Hermione says so seriously you want to bury yourself and die.

‘Guys, that is only a one time occurrence,’ you blurt out. ‘It’s not going to happen often. I just had to take care of something.’ You go back to eating your food silently, but feel your body temperature rise inside. ‘Did the cloak have something to do with him?’ Harry abruptly asks. Having had enough, you stand up, and excuse yourself before walking out.

You’re strolling around in the corridors, wondering where you should go, when you hear your name being called. ‘Y/n!’ Your eyes roll as you wonder if it’s Ginny or Sophie, trying to catch up with you. But as the person gets nearer, you hear it’s a deeper voice than your girlfriends. ‘Y/n,’ the voice calls out again, right behind you this time and sounding breathless.

‘Nott?’ you turn back and see a panting Theodore, catching his breath. He gives a small smile as he pants. ‘I was wondering...if you’d like to catch up on Transfigurations at the library?’ he asks. You frown a little; you were hoping it would be for something else. Something more casual than studying.

But you just smile. Because, strangely, your gut was telling you to go with it. If it was with Theodore, you were up for anything. Even studying. ‘That would be nice; maybe I can finish my worksheets then,’ you say with a nod. Nott smiles adoringly. ‘Great. See you in five?’ he asks and you nod again, before he leaves you to collect his books.

A/N: guys, I’ve realized this is way too long to begin with :[ So bad news is im ending it here, but good news is there’s part two!! So if you wanna read part two, please be patient! I’ll definitely post it :) Thanks for understanding! <3

PS: part two is out!!

[hp-hcs]

violent stalker mattheo riddle.... each guy and girl readers ever spoken to? damn wdym they showed up beaten up the next day and they dont even know who did it ????

i feel like he'd also get violent with reader and ykw .... im so insane id let him beat me bloody .

"i'm doing this because you're not listening to me, sweetheart. how else am i supposed to show you that trying to leave me is what you shouldn't do?"

hey uh, future requesters: giving me a line of dialogue or smth to build around means i’ll finish your request WAY faster. tysm anon 😭

requests open

prometheus — yandere! insane! stalker! mattheo riddle x gn! reader

wow! there’s a fuck ton of really fucking dark violence, murder, torture, manipulation, abduction, and horrific domestic abuse in this! please be careful if you choose to read this!

1.5k words!

i jokingly took a sociopathy test with a couple of friends earlier today and i scored like really high so uh dunno how to feel about that

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

“Am I…am I in trouble or something, Professor…?”

Professor McGonagall’s lips thinned and she looked at you over the rim of her glasses. She folded her hands together neatly where they rested on her desk before speaking. “Not for now, no. Relax a bit, dear. The law states that you’re innocent until proven guilty.”

“That’s not- that doesn’t really make me less nervous.”

The professor opened her mouth to speak again when a chime alerted her to an incoming floo call.

With a wave of her wand, the flames flared green and a genial-looking man stepped out of the fireplace. He brushed soot off of his robes and grinned brightly as soon as he caught sight of the professor.

“Minerva! Lovely to see you again. I’m afraid Quincy isn’t going to make it. Corbett is sick, poor thing, so he’s staying home with him today,” the man gushed, evidently quite close with the professor.

“Oh, send them both my well wishes, Hez, dear. Anyway, this is the student you asked to see, Y/n L/n,” she motioned towards you.

The man gave you a cheery grin—far too cheerful for this early in the morning—and held out his hand for you to shake. “A pleasure to meet you, Mx. L/n. I’m Auror Hezekiah Ackerly. I’d just like to ask you a few questions if that’s alright?”

You dubiously shook his outstretched hand, a bit put off by his bright grin that never seemed to dim. “Sure.”

“Wonderful!” the Auror pulled the second office guest chair closer and sat down across from you. “Let’s get the easy questions out of the way. Do you have many friends? Or maybe a small, close-knit group of people you regularly hang out with?”

Your eyebrows furrowed. The fuck kind of question was this?

“Uh, I guess a close-knit group?”

Auror Ackerly summoned a notebook and quill, writing quickly. “Who belongs to this group?”

Seriously, this felt more like being at a psychiatrist’s office than being questioned by a government official.

“Er, Harry Potter, Ron Weasley, and Hermione Granger? And sometimes Neville Longbottom and Luna Lovegood?”

Seriously, what was going on?

“And do you have any…romantic relationships? Any troubles or issues there?”

Your eyes narrow. “What’re you playing at?”

“Cormac McLaggen was found dead in the Forbidden Forest this morning,” Professor McGonagall cut to the chase, interrupting Auror Ackerly. “You were the last known person to have spoken to him, and several of your peers attest that they heard an argument break out between the two of you last night after dinner.”

Your eyebrows shot up and your jaw dropped. “Dead? Wh- how?”

“That’s what we at the Ministry would like to know,” Auror Ackerly interjected smoothly. “You’re not in trouble, Mx. L/n, but I am here to escort you to the Ministry for questioning.”

Your jaw dropped.

They thought you did this?

~~~

You sat at a table, alone in some room deep inside the Ministry building.

You huffed, folding yet another paper crane from the stack of sticky notes Ackerly had oh-so-thoughtfully left for you after your interrogation.

You set the finished bird on the table, the small pile of origami cranes you’ve made while waiting slowly getting larger.

Peeling off another sticky note, you started folding another when a nice-looking man in well-pressed robes entered the barren room and stopped in front of your table. He looked down at you with mild bafflement.

“L/n, I presume?”

“That’d be me,” you mumbled, adding your newest crane to the pile.

The man smiled gently before waving a hand over your paper birds and enchanting them to fly.

You tried to hide your awe as you look up at the cranes that floated and soared around the room.

The man smiled at your reaction. “It’s quite nice to finally meet you, Mx. L/n. You’ve been the topic of many a discussion today.”

“I’d imagine so, yes,” you said dryly. “Not many teenagers accused of murder coming through the department, huh?”

He grinned. “Not really, no.”

The man pulled out the other chair at the table, sitting down across from you and rifling through the thick manila folder he held.

“Are you here to interrogate me some more?” You asked suspiciously. “Ask Ackerly, man. I already told him everything I know.”

He laughed. “No, I’m not here to interrogate you. I’m your lawyer, Mx. L/n.”

You blink. “I don’t have a lawyer. My family can’t afford that.”

“You always have the right to an attorney, Mx. L/n,” he said kindly as he held out his hand to you. “Octavian Foxglove, Esquire.”

“Y/n L/n, but you already knew that,” you greet, shaking his hand.

He smiled again.

He was a very smiley man.

He laid out the manila folder and turned it around on the table so that you would be able to see it.

The first paper on top was a copy of your school records, with a bright red PRIMARY SUSPECT stamped over the top of your picture.

You grimaced.

Your lawyer nodded sympathetically. “There’s a photo underneath that page, by the way. Supposedly the last photo we have of McLaggen still alive and, uh…it’s not looking great for you, in all honesty.”

You moved your school records page aside, finding a standard moving photograph paperclipped to the inside of the file.

It showed, quite clearly, you speaking with Cormac McLaggen in a hallway. Picture-Cormac angrily threw his arms up in the air and silently yelled at picture-you, while your body language in the photo loudly screamed ‘furious & upset’.

He was right. It wasn’t a great look.

“And there’s only one thing I need you to- oh, where is it?” He dug through the inside pockets of his robes, procuring a pen. “Aha! The next page has a simple contract. I just need a signature stating that you either accept me as your public defender, or would like to request someone else from the Ministry to handle your case.”

You nod, flipping the page to the contract he indicated. Mr. Foxglove smiled again and held the pen out to you.

As soon as your fingers made contact with the pen, you vanished.

~~~

You stumbled blindly, almost falling to the floor before a hand caught your elbow and steadied you.

“Easy, careful.”

You whirled around, surprised to see a different man in Mr. Foxglove’s clothes. He held his hands up in a non-threatening manner.

“Woah- slow down, kid. You’re fine.”

“Who the hell are you?”

“I’m- was your lawyer,” he shrugged and smiled. “Augustus Rookwood, at your service.”

It dawned on you. “It was a portkey,” you breathed. “The pen. It was a portkey, wasn’t it?”

“Clever kid,” he sounded impressed. “Now c’mon. The boss wants to see you.”

You followed the man without complaint; half out of curiosity, half out of the knowledge that Augustus Rookwood was an Azkaban escapee charged with at least forty counts of first degree murder.

Pretty simple choice.

It looked like you were in a wealthy aristocrat’s house. Er, mansion, more accurately. The hallway you were walking down was old and stuffy and dusty, and the overall aura of Dark magic that permeated the very air of the house sent shivers down your spine.

Rookwood led you down a flight of rickety stairs to the first floor, and then down a narrow hallway and into a study, where he left you without another word.

The study itself was old. Everything was coated in a thick layer of dust except for the pristine and polished bureau right in the center.

(Obviously, ‘the boss’ was sitting at this desk.)

((Villains tend to be predictable like that.))

However, you were surprised to see that ‘the boss’ was-

“Riddle?”

He looked up at the sound of your voice, a wide grin spreading across his face as he hurriedly got up from his desk.

“Y/n, darling, hello!” He gushed, practically skipping over towards you before pulling you into a very uncomfortable hug. “Sweetheart- oh, I’m so glad you’ve made it here safely! Rookwood really is my only competent assistant; I must be sure to give him a raise.”

You froze up at the unexpected hug, your arms remaining stiffly by your sides. He let go after a moment, but remained just a bit too close for comfort.

“Hopefully the Ministry didn’t give you too hard of a time,” he rubbed the back of his neck with a guilty grin. “I promise Ackerly’s a good man. When he’s, y’know, in control of his own body.”

Your eyes widen and you take a step back. “What?”

“Just a little Imperius, darling, no worries. Did you like your gift?”

You blinked, thrown off by his rapid changes in subjects. “Uh- gift?”

He smiled proudly. “McLaggen? He won’t bother you anymore, see?”

All the color drained from your face.

“You killed Cormac?”

He nods, grinning. “Uh-huh. I heard what McLaggen said to you last night in the hall, and I don’t like when other people look at what’s mine.”

“Yours?” You repeat, your lip curling in disgust. “You’d better not be referring to me.”

Mattheo paused, looking at you in confusion. “What else would I be talking about?”

You scoff in shock, shaking your head. “Yeah, nope, I’m out.”

You turned around without further preamble, marching out of the room and towards the front door that you’d passed earlier. Mattheo laughed and followed you out of the study at a leisurely pace, seemingly unworried.

“Where are you going to go, darling? As far as the general public is concerned, you’re on the run after brutally murdering a classmate. You’re Wanted with a capital W, sweetheart.”

“I’ll figure it out,” you snarled, storming towards the front door.

“Y/n…” He warned, drawing his wand and pointing it at you. “Get back here. Now.”

“Fuck off.” You spat over your shoulder, not sparing him another glance.

That was clearly not the thing to say. As if in slow motion, you heard a dreaded word fall from his lips.

“Crucio!”

You were struck with pain that was so overwhelming, so blinding, so agonizing, that you were sure you were going to die.

You were only half aware that you’d fallen to the floor at some point as wave after wave of unbearable pain crashed over you. You could feel your bones creaking and grinding together, your skin splitting apart only to knit itself back together just to be torn apart again, like you were some fucked up wixen version of fucking Prometheus.

You were only vaguely aware that you were speaking, pleading. Pleading not for the Unforgivable to be lifted, but for him to just end it, end you, entirely.

“K-kill me! Kill m-me…please!” You begged, blood trailing down from the corner of your mouth and smeared across your chin. You must’ve bit your tongue hard for it to bleed like that, and the sting from that wound while you speak is just too overwhelming when combined with the pain from the Cruciatus Curse.

Then all at once, it stops.

You gasp for air, your entire body trembling and numb as you lay sprawled across the floor like a marionette with its strings cut.

Mattheo kneeled down by your side and cupped your face in his hands with a kind of tender gentleness that felt deeply wrong coming from him.

“See, I’m doing this because you’re not listening to me, sweetheart. How else am I supposed to show you that trying to leave me is what you shouldn’t do?” He cooed softly, gently wiping the blood from your chin with the sleeve of his shirt.

You flinched back at his touch. Your body—still wracked with uncontrollable quivers and trembles—tried in vain to crawl away from him.

“Oh no, honey- hey, honey- I promise it’s all over, okay? You were so so good for me. But you see now that you’ve got to stay with me, right?”

Your jaw quivered and your still-stinging tongue felt thick in your mouth, yet you managed to spit vicious hatred towards him.

“G-go to hell.”

A flurry of emotions crossed his face: surprise, anger, guilt, and disappointment; all of which were topped by the underlying aura of pure sadistic glee that exuded from him.

“Oh? Do you need another lesson or two before you learn?” He sighed and shook his head patronizingly. “Very well then, darling. Crucio!”

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

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[ananashart]

"You're going to miss the falling stars if you keep looking at me"

Remus Lupin x Hufflepuff!Reader

Summary: On winter break the sky reserves a surprise for you. Or, Remus and You sneaking out of Hogwart at night.

Word count: 3 488

CW: the grammar is dead / eng isn't my first language

Quick note: I wrote that for a friend of mine who's a Hufflepuff, hence the Hufflepuff!reader. I wrote while knowing absolutely nothing about Harry Potter, haven't watched the movies nor read the books. My only knowledge on this Wizarding world is what I searched, what I was told and the little time I played hogwart mystery on my phone to kill some time (Charlie Weasley my beloved) to say I deeply apologize if some things seem out of place or even worse, occ. But if this can be comforting, my friend validate the os, even saying it seemed like I knew the universe.

The small white dots falling from the sky indicated that winter had arrived, and with it, so did winter break. Students of all years had prepared their belongings for the two weeks off the school. But not you. You weren't going back home for the holiday. At the beginning of December, you had received your monthly letter from home, the same one indicating that your family was facing troubles and other issues you didn't have the heart to be a part of. Which was why, while writing your answer, you had decided to not go back this year. Preferring to stay at Hogwart to focus on your magic studies. That had been your best lie of the year.

To you the situation was kind of sad, you wanted to go home as you were feeling nostalgic and pretty homesick. A hint of regret was settling within you, you were going to miss out on most of your family, ones you hadn't seen in a long time. Worse, you were going to miss out on your parents’ homemade Christmas cake, and that was the real tragedy of it all. The happy faces of your cousins, aunts and uncles flashing before your eyes.

Alone in your dorm room, swinging on your chair, you let a sigh cross your lips. You were bitter, bored and in need of a change. So you put on your shoes as well as your black and yellow scarf around your neck, while you gathered your book in your arms.

Each of your steps was echoing against the stone walls of the almost empty castle. It was eerie, in a good way, how empty the chilly corridors were. Everything seemed higher, more grand, nearly intimidating and scary.

Readjusting your scarf, you walked to your favorite spot near the Quidditch pitch, behind an old tree. Since your first year, the place had strangely grown on you. It was calm but not silent, perfect for you. So naturally, needing a change of scenery you went there, as you slowly but certainly grew tired of the dorm wall. Setting a foot outside, you immediately get hit by a swirl of fresh air, filling your lungs, making you feel instantly better.

Luckily for you, it wasn't snowing at the moment nor raining. It was just wendy and cold. Arriving at the old tree, you settled yourself, putting down an old blanket you had used previously for picnics with friends. In all truth, you had half lied in your letter, you really wanted to get some work done. And the peace and quiet the place was offering was the best way to achieve it. And quicker than ever, you engulfed yourself in your books.

It took the abrupt crack of a twig to tear you out of your head space, making you aware of your surroundings again. Too immersed in the book you were reading, you didn't hear the three Gryffindors coming your way. Being on the other side of the tree, they didn't know you were there as well.

"Why come here when you could've told us your oh so great plan in our dorm?” Had questioned one of the three, sarcasm dripping from their lips.

"Because people can snitch on us.” Answered another voice like it was the most obvious thing to exist. “And I don't want this old bag of Filch to hear us.”

Putting your book aside, you tried to concentrate on the different persons on the other side of the tree. You couldn't quite place the voices, but that wasn't the first time you were hearing them, you were sure of that. Furthermore, the mention of a ‘great plan’ made you curious, very curious. You knew you shouldn't be eavesdropping, but that plan, whatever it was, had picked your interest.

“So? What's your plan?” Inquired a third person, more calm and composed than the other two.

“Let's sneak out tonight, and go to Hogsmeade.”

The silence was deafening, but to you the idea was an interesting one. It would be lying saying you had never dreamed of exploring Hogsmeade and the surroundings at night.

"Sneak out to go to Hogsmeade? Like we do almost every month.” Taunted the first person who had spoken. “ Really Sirius?"

When the name dropped, everything clicked in your mind. Sirius, like the famous Sirius Black. Which meant the other two were James Potter and Remus Lupin. The troublemakers Gryffindor trio. However, at the back of your head, you were sure someone was missing. You couldn't replace his name. Not that it was important anyway, you had a more pressing matter at hand; the boy with the scars across his face.

You were familiar with the trio, not that you were a part of their friend group no. You talked, here and there. You mostly conversed with Remus as you were sharing some classes with him. The first time you engaged, you had requested his help, not sure you had understood well a part in the transfiguration class.

“Why me?” He had uttered, hint of self-defense in his demeanor.

“I noticed how easy it seems for you.” You had simply answered, shrugging your shoulders. “Also, you pique my curiosity.”

You were being authentic, and knowing that someone was genuinely interested about him made a warm feeling spread through his entire body. So he gladly helped you. And the feeling intensified the next day, when during the lunch break, you boldly sat down next to him proposing to pull a mean joke on the dumb guy who had dared mock him in the morning.

The persons who were willing to get in trouble for him were few. He could count them on his right hand only.

It was the voice of Sirius that brought you back from the depth of your mind. “You didn't let me finish Prongs. I've heard the teachers say that something was going to appear in the sky tonight.” He exclaimed, excitement in his voice.

“Then why not just go to the astronomy tower?” Proposed Remus, calm as ever.

"Where's the fun in that Moony?" Answered Sirius, as a smirk was shaping his lips, you were sure of that.

Processing the new information, it was when James and Remus agreed on the plan that you decided to show yourself, standing up in a hurry. “Can I go with you?”

Your sudden appearance has the trio stuck in place, silent. “Y/N?” Had questioned the one you considered the most being your friend.

Nodding, a shadow of a small smile was dancing on your face. Looking at the two others, you saw how they carefully studied you, dissecting every parcel of your skin under their eyes.

It had been James who spoke first, while Sirius had, oddly enough, stayed silent one eyebrow raised. “You're spying on us.”

Their septic attitude was laughable, funny to you, considering how harmless you were. But you complied, explaining yourself to them why you had been hiding behind the tree. Not without forgetting to mention you had been there first.

“But about your little excursion?” You focused back on the discussion, the smile fully drawing your lips, almost showing your teeth.

“Well,” started Remus, turning to his friends for their approval. “I can't see why not.”

There was no reason for them to refuse, as you weren't one of the students they bullied nor a Slytherin. Furthermore you were friends with Remus, and they already knew you, quite well for that matter.

Sirius’ gaze went back and forth between Remus who smiled at him, and James who only shrugged his shoulders, agreeing. “Sure, whatever.”

With that settled, he continued to reveal the plan for tonight. It was fairly simple, sneaking out of your respective common rooms then meeting in front of the stairs to the fourth floor and going straight to the secret passage behind the mirror. Your only issue here was knowing how you were going to leave your dorm without getting caught. It was crystal clear to you that the boys were going to use Remus’ prefect status to get out without much trouble. But you choose to not voice your problems as you already felt like you were already imposing yourself to them. You didn't want to add more to the list.

Once the evening came, you all decided to eat together, chatting and gossiping about students and professors. Eventually, the discussion turned onto why the four of you were still here instead of back home.

“Everyone has their reasons.” Had said Sirius, a somber tone in his voice that no one dared questioned or pushed further.

Done with your meals, you all went back to your respective dorm. The boys' attempt at fooling everyone by waving at you goodnight had you wholeheartedly chuckling on your way back. It was your own way to distract you from the warmth in your cheeks, remembering Remus who had decided to throw you a knowing wink.

At the entrance of the common room, while automatically knocking rhythmically on the barrel, you searched through your mind every spell you knew that would help you sneak out. Why choose the curfew hours in the first place? It wasn't making a lot of sense to you. Why not do it while everyone was still eating, being busy with their meals. Those were questions for later, right away you needed a way out.

Inside, you made a beeline to your dorm room, preparing a small bag with what would eventually be useful for your night out. Looking around the room, your eyes lingered on one of your roommates bed, that was when it struck you. You were going to use their Dungbombs to have everyone hurrying out of the common room, and use the disorder at your advantage to disappear.

Once curfew hours hit, you got the case out from under your friend's bed, pinching your nose as best as you could before opening it. Quickly you gathered two Dungbombs in your hand, going to the common room to throw them. They were quick to diffuse their horrid smell, and quicker than ever, the remaining Hufflepuffs were out.

And just as expected, the ruckus was the perfect moment for you to leave. On your tiptoes, you kept your eyes on the crowd until the first turn. But you didn't get that far as your back bumped into someone. Turning around, you expected anyone but one of the Gryffindor prefects to be here. Luckily for you, it was none other than Remus Lupin.

Readjusting your bag on your shoulder, you jogged with him away from the possible prying eyes. You were surprised to see him here when he was supposed to wait at the stairs with Sirius and James. You didn't wait to question him.

“What are you doing here?” You whispered, “Not that I'm complaining.”

Your simple comment brought a smile to his face, instantly illuminating it. “I was worried, so I decided to come and wait here.” Looking around the corner for a few seconds, he continued, sparkles of mischief hiding in his eyes. “But I was worried for nothing, you handled the situation well.”

His smile was everything, and knowing he was suppressing a laugh made you wish he hadn't. You had heard him laugh a handful of times, it truly was music to your ears. You could never get tired of it.

“That's very sweet of you, but you left James and Sirius alone?” Watching realization drown onto him made you suppress a laugh on your own. “Not a very prefect attitude off of you dear Remus.”

“Let's hope they can behave themselves.” Hearing noises coming your way, the brunet took your hands in his, leading the both of you away. “But I have to admit that's pretty reckless of me. Which is why we better hurry.”

He was amused more than anything, peeking behind him to look at you. He was sublime, a dazzling smile you wanted to frame. You wish he could be this happy and free more often. Those were definitely feelings that were suiting him perfectly.

Carefully, you ran hidden in the shadows, only for the ghosts and awake painting to see your nightly escapade. All the way to the stairs, he never once let go of your hand. Strong and warm hand securely wrapped around your own, less calloused than what you could have expected. And somehow, it wasn't odd.

On his side, Remus was debating with his inner self. Was he supposed to let go of your hand? He didn't want to, but for all he knew you were uncomfortable. But surely if you were, you would have separated your linked hands a long time ago. That was the only reassuring argument he had found to keep your hand in his. It was a selfish action, the only one he wanted to keep doing. In all his turmoil, he could feel his cheeks getting warmer and warmer by the second.

After surviving each floor, you both finally reunited with the two impatient Gryffindors, waiting at the stairs.

Sirius, who had been previously pacing, stopped upon your arrival, throwing his hands to the sky. “Merlin, finally!” He almost shouted, earning a nasty look from James, who was sitting down at the beginning of the stairs.

Standing up, he dusted his trousers before starting his way to the fourth floor. “Come on, we're going to miss out on whatever is in the sky.”

Not needing to be told twice, Sirius followed shortly after, quickly joined by Remus and yourself. And before you knew it, you arrived in Hogsmeade.

The streets were faintly light, busy with people, more than usual. It was nothing new for the boys, but for you it was all very new. So you took in the scenery playing in front of you; the sweet smells in the air, the loud chatting of every passerby, the sudden heat hitting you.

The Gryffindors noticed right away it was your first time here at night. The sparks in your eyes alongside your silence being a huge give away for them. You were mesmerized. Knowing it was because of them made them feel kind of proud of themselves, exchanging knowing gaze at each other. The proudest of them all was most definitely Remus, an adoring look fighting to be seen in his eyes. At that moment, he only wanted to keep you close to him.

James' abrupt yelling brought everyone's attention back on track. “Now what?” He questioned, directed to Sirius.

"What do you mean now what?” He had questioned back, furrowed eyebrows, not sure about his friend's request. “We have fun, that's what."

"I think James wants to know about the sky event." You had intervened, taking a step toward them to be heard.

Remus, still by your side, wasn't listening at all. Too focused on the sensation of your hand still in his, he couldn't. It was a perfect fit, like his hands had been sculpted to be wrapped accurately around yours. He was supposed to be the most mature and responsible one of the group, he should be taking the lead, telling his two friends to not do anything stupid. But he wasn't. Too hypnotized by you and how you looked under Hogsmeade low light. Maybe the sirens of those Muggle's legends were real, and you were one of them. With the sole purpose to distract him from everything.

It was you pulling on his hand that broke his trance. "You're coming?" You asked, head slightly tilted to the side. It could have been an order, Remus would have followed all the same.

Walking through the crowd, you all watched for anything interesting. The two troublemakers in front, trying to get themselves in trouble, arguing about why going to the three broomsticks wasn't a good idea.

After some time, it was easy to see the crowd walking in the opposite direction from Hogwart. Kids, who should have probably been asleep, were running through the passerby, talking about ‘falling stars’. At that, you all exchanged a look before running along the kids, wanting to have a good place yourself to witness the event. That time, you had been the one leading the way for Remus. Weaving in and out of the crowd, hand in hand, like it had been since the start of the night.

Arriving at why you had gathered was the place, it was James who found a spot. It wasn't front row like you would all have wanted, but it was good enough to admire the night sky. The only thing left for you to do was to wait. A torture for Sirius, who had already started complaining about his neck hurting. Maybe going to the astronomy tower like Remus had suggested would have been better in the end.

But as soon as the few remaining lights on the streets were blown shut, you were able to see one dot running through the sky. Soon followed by another, and another, and a thousand others. They were all, indeed, falling. It was majestic. The four of you were fascinated by the show happening in front of your eyes.

All of those dots raining on you reminded you of something you had read about the Muggle word. A tradition they had about making Wishes for falling stars. So you made one only for the stars to know. Wishing for this moment to last forever. Wishing for Remus to stand by your side as long as he would allow you to do the same. And you made your wish known to the sky, your grip tightened around the brunet's hand. A gesture he mirrored.

Unfortunately, the show of stars raining into the horizon came to an end. Meaning for the four of you it was time to sneak back inside the prominent castle. Making your way backwards, none of you talk, all feeling content about what you had just witnessed. Behind the two troublemakers, neither Remus nor you found the strength to let go of each other's hand. Even if removing your hands was as simple as lighting your wand, it was just as easy to keep them linked.

Walking behind his two friends, Remus knew he was doomed. He had seen the mischievous glances they had shared during their trip back. Of course they had to notice how he never once tried to detach his hand from yours. But in his defense, you as well didn't try, neither did you voiced your discomfort or your desire to have your hand back. What was he supposed to do? He was a mess, letting his selfishness take the upper hand because of you. But strangely, it was a Welcomed feeling.

Getting back inside your school, you were unhappy. You didn't wish for the night to end, you didn't wish for Remus to remove his hand from yours. You were brooding and it was showing as you all climbed down the stairs in pure silence. The brunet, feeling all the same, decided to extend your night, even just a little.

"I think it'll be better if I take Y/N back to the Hufflepuff dorm."

Processing what he had just said, your eyes went wide. Never once in your life have you felt this lucky.

On the other hand, the two troublemakers didn't try to taunt their friend with his statement, both grinning at Remus silently coming to an agreement that they were going to tease him later. So they said goodbye to you, for real this time, before disappearing.

Seeing as none of you was ready to move, you tried. "Shall we?" You offered with a smile, extending your hands, hope glittering in your eyes.

Linking his hand back, he returned the smile, a fond smile that made you melt on the spot. He was the sweetest and you couldn't fathom why people weren't, wouldn't, see it. Since you introduced yourself to him, your days have been funnier, better, colorful. And knowing he was going to be stuck here with you for the holiday made you selfishly feel better.

The stroll back was slow, quiet. And too rapidly for you, you were back in front of your dorm.

“Well, this is it.” You spoke first, breaking the comfortable silence. “Thank you for the trip, and the escort.” And at last, with an aching heart, you let go of his hand.

Smiling softly one last time at you, Remus turned back on his heels, ready to make his way back to his dorm, ready to leave you. But you didn't want the night to end like that. So you called back for him, strolling back to catched up with him. At his level and without giving him the chance to question what was the matter, you kissed his cheek.

“Good night Remus.”

By the time he processed what had happened, you were already back in your dorm. Leaving a Bashful Remus behind you.

Is it that hard to reblog?

[maxdibert]

Hi! Could you tell me your top 5 least favorite Harry Potter characters and why?

My 5 most hated characters in Harry Potter are:

5 - Molly Weasley: I can’t stand this woman. I can’t stand how she acts like a morally superior, pure-blood yet holds endless prejudices, especially (and mostly) toward other, younger women. I don’t like her tradwife vibe, and I don’t like how overbearing and suffocating she is. Seriously, in real life, I’d feel the urge to tell her off—she’s that typical annoying woman who doesn’t know where the boundaries are.

4 - Remus Lupin: Zero sympathy for a man almost forty who got a 24-year-old girl pregnant and then abandoned her. Remus Lupin is a coward and a piece of trash, a bullying accomplice who keeps his head down regarding his own actions and needs a 17-year-old to teach him a lesson in manhood. I really wish Tonks had left him and taken off with Teddy to get as far away as possible from that pathetic excuse for a person.

3 - Dumbledore: Starting with the fact that the entire problem of the story basically stems from his irresponsibility with Tom Riddle, which already showed that he was a terrible teacher. He only shows concern for students who can serve his purposes or suck up to him, and his involvement throughout the story shows a moral stance I find nauseating. I mean, he’s a guy who has the nerve to lecture his former students who “chose the wrong path,” but when those same students were under his care, he constantly neglected and rejected them just because they didn’t belong to a certain house. He had the audacity to call Severus Snape “miserable” when it was Dumbledore himself who allowed Snape to be bullied and almost killed without lifting a finger to stop it or punish the bullies. This same Dumbledore scolds Draco Malfoy for not trusting him when from Draco’s first day at Hogwarts, all he saw from the old man was favoritism toward a certain house and certain students, completely ignoring the rest. Honestly, I’d have banned him from teaching. There’s a lot said about Snape as a teacher, but Dumbledore was responsible for everything, allowed terrible things to happen, and turned his back on many vulnerable children and teenagers. Then he acted all surprised when they ended up in bad places. Screw him, hypocritical old man.

2 - Ginny Weasley: The “I’m not like other girls,” the “shut up, Hermione, you don’t know anything about Quidditch,” the “everyone look at me, I hex people, I’m one of the boys, I’m not vain but I’m hot, but I’m not prissy,” the “I make fun of girls who are pretty, flirty, and feminine because I’m a textbook pick-me girl” who is shoved into the end of the series. She’s a character who didn’t matter at all throughout the story; she’s barely mentioned in some books, but suddenly she’s Harry’s love interest because J.K. Rowling needed all her characters to end up married with 468749284 kids, and Harry needed to be part of the Weasley family. So, they had to do something. Ginny is a terrible character, going from irrelevant to some sort of Mary Sue who even the Slytherins drool over and who, of course, is not a “typical girl” because being a “typical girl” in Rowling’s world is somehow the original sin. So, she’s great at sports, hexes people, pulls pranks because she’s so cool, uh uh uh, she’s not like the others, uh uh uh, but she has internalized misogyny that you can smell from here to China. Honestly, someone should have slapped her for being so damn stupid.

1 - James Potter: There’s nothing I haven’t already said about James Potter. He’s a character who really grinds my gears because they try to sell him as some kind of hero, but he was just a spoiled rich kid who decided to torment a poor, vulnerable boy simply because that boy was friends with his crush. He used his social power and status to get away with all the crap he pulled, attacked in groups, lied to his girlfriend saying he’d stopped bullying people when he really hadn’t, and when he was supposed to be locked up in a house with his wife and son, he was off fooling around with his best friend. James Potter was an ass, and defending him is defending classism, elitism, and whitewashing social classes. I’m not going to explain why.

[manageablemischiefs-blog]

Let's Reflect On: Peter Pettigrew's erasure from The Marauders by a big portion of the Harry Potter fandom.

Peter Pettigrew was an 11-year-old boy who happened to be in the same compartment of the Hogwarts Express as James Potter, Sirius Black, and Remus Lupin. They all befriended each other through that interaction - through being sorted in the same house, being dormmates, having things in common, being comfortable around each other.

Peter Pettigrew was a twenty-something-year-old man who was threatened to sell his friends to Voldemort. He was a coward, not a follower.

Even Voldemort himself says it:

“[…] Wormtail here has paid some of his debt already, have you not, Wormtail?" He looked down at Wormtail, who continued to sob.  “You returned to me, not out of loyalty, but out of fear of your old friends. You deserve this pain, Wormtail. You know that, don’t you?”“

Harry Potter and The Goblet of Fire, Chapter 33: The Death Eaters

In the end, at the moment of his death, when ordered to strangle Harry he hesitated. Now, we have seen him murder without batting an eyelash, why would he not do the same with Harry?

Here's my take on it:

I believe Wormtail saw Harry as more than a chore, a body to dispose of. He saw him as James' son. His best friend whom he helped killing son. All the guilt and grief he had been trying to justify and push away since that fateful night dawned on him.

Peter had been there for his beginning; for James and Lily’s beginning. He was there at their wedding, at the baby shower (if there was one), for every Christmas since first year... He felt, not sure love, but definitely guilt. He looked at Harry and saw the face of James and the never-quivering eyes that once belonged to Lily. It was much easier living without carrying the responsibility of having cast the spell that ended their lives.

He hesitated, which caused the silver hand Voldemort had given to him to sense that as a sign of weakness and/or disloyalty, leading him to be strangled to death. With such a choice, he saves Harry’s life and, to me, finds redemption for his treason.

I’m not saying you should love Peter or that he was a wonderful human being who should now be showered with flowers and kisses by any means, but he has a story and he has a past. He has a built-up of growing insecurities until he betrays his friends. All of this is essential to understand that the twenty-something-year-old Peter Pettigrew is not the same as Hogwarts student Peter Pettigrew. There’s background and nuance to each character - If we ignore it and pretend he was an idiot through and through it just turns him into an empty character with no real importance in the plot, which is not the case. Don't reduce the complex relationship of the marauders to that.

To expand on the topic, the extraordinary @theprogressofspring has quite an extensive section on their blog labeled In Defense of Peter Pettigrew, with essays that go much more into detail and actually gave me the courage to post this entire thing. In addition, they also began a while ago writing The Life Cycle of the Common Rat; a story from Peter's point of view, tackling the first Wizarding War and refreshing characterizations of young adult marauders and Lily; it was a really tricky time, and sometimes the people we love are cunts and the people we hate are not pure evil.

[just-another-star-47]

I feel like Hogwarts Legacy has done a much better job in creating characters fitting into their houses. 😅

I know in the Harry Potter books it's about 'actions are more important than just character traits, but it feels weird, when Harry for example is very much a Gryffindor at his core in the first place - like he didn't really need to go against his traits at all. 😅

When it comes to the houses I always ask myself what the character would do in a stressful situation - I think that's always a good indicator of where they belong.

As Harry dreams about Sirius beeing tortured by Voldemort, his first reaction is to attack, to get into action, to find him, fight everone who stands in his way and done - simple, reckless, a little stupid Gryffindor logic.

Hermione on the other side (I know she's technically a Gryffindor, but that's the point right? In my mind she would have been better off in Ravenclaw), thinks in that exact same situation. She wants to make sure it's not a trap, thinks about the dangers that will await them and tries to prepare herself and the others for it.

I feel in Hogwarts Legacy it's much more clear.

Natsai is very adventurous, her first reaction to Rookwood and Harlow is to fight them. She throws herself in dangerous situations and just wings it from there on.

Garreth doesn't care what others think of him and just does his thing. Could his potions be dangerous to him or other students? Very much so. Does he care? Not at all.

I had my problems with Leander, but I really like now that they put him into Gryffindor because I think he shows the bad sides of the traits of his house very well. He's highly competitive (I think competitive and ambitious are different things) to a point were he becomes arrogant and annoying. He wants to fight and learn dangerous spells, to a point were he's rude to a professor. I don't think he's a coward, he's just not able to let actions follow his big words.

Amit loves knowledge just because of knowledge itself. He is easily fascinated by other cultures and probably everything around him and tries to understand it. He wants to know the 'how' and 'why' and is very creative when it comes to problem solving.

Poppy is brave, but always because of a reason, not for the adventure itself. She wants to protect and has a very soft spot for the weaker ones. If problems arise, she'll ask for help and has overall a very caring personality.

Ominis first reaction, when he catches MC leaving the Undercroft is to threaten her with his status and connections. A behaviour caused by the stress of feeling betrayed and a clear indicator of his house. 😅

And do we even have to talk about Sebastian? 😅 If there's a problem, his first reaction is to charm, to manipulate, to taunt and to gather information so that it's more likely he succeeds.

[chlobliviate]

Wolfstar Microfic - World

Words: 977

@wolfstarmicrofic

🌙✨🌙✨🌙

Sirius loved his job. He loved working with tiny humans. He loved being one of the people who introduced them to the world outside their home. To show them nature, read stories, and chat with them while they drew scribbly pictures.

The plan had been for him to go into politics, like his father, and grandfather. And great grandfathers, back further than he cared to think about. But even Orion Black couldn’t get on board with his gay son inheriting his seat in the House of Lords. So they swiftly moved onto the spare, until they pushed him to rebellion too. According to the last email, Regulus was running a vineyard in France and was stunningly happy, which made Sirius happy in turn.

Each year he got kids from all walks of life. Kids with two moms, disabled kids, kids in care, kids with more energy than they knew what to do with, kids whose passions were adorably wild for four-year-olds, like cooking or cricket. His godson had just started in his class and was proving to be a handful, as he knew he would be. Any child that was half James Potter and half Lily Evans, with a healthy dose of Sirius’ influence could be nothing less.

But when he got word that he had a student starting the school year a month late, he mentally assigned Harry as his buddy. Within minutes of having Teddy Lupin in his class, he knew it was a good decision.

He’d been in a meeting when Teddy arrived. He’d meant to have a chat with Teddy’s parent. Dad, he seemed to remember the paperwork saying, with a name almost as ridiculous as his own. Roman? Something like that. He’d have to catch him at the end of the day. His teaching assistant, Dorcas told him that the dad seemed as nervous as Teddy, but that he was cute and sarcastic. If she said that with a pointed look at him, he pretended not to notice.

Teddy let Harry show him around the classroom, the reading nook, the ‘pretend area’ that was set up as a cafe this week, the toy cupboard and finally their table. Teddy asked lots of questions and Sirius took this as a good sign. Better he ask than feel like he couldn’t.

Once the class was settled, working on drawing their house and family, Sirius crouched next to Teddy’s desk.

“How’re you getting on, Teddy?” He said quietly.

“Good, I think.” He stuck his tongue between his teeth as he concentrated on drawing. “I only have to draw me and my dad.”

“That’s not fair!” Ron moaned from the other side of the table. “I think I need more Paper!”

Sirius chuckled, “But think how much your mum and dad will love this drawing, with all of you on it!” He’d taught Ron’s twin brothers a couple of years ago, and he knew for a fact that they had not produced any pictures like this for their family, so it would be a nice change of pace for them. He turned back to Teddy, “If you need help or anything at all, just let me know. There are no stupid questions, ok?” Teddy nodded, not looking away from his drawing.

🌙✨🌙✨🌙

Teddy was the last to collect his belongings at the end of the day, and Sirius helped him put his water bottle into his tiny backpack before they headed for the door. “Oh, wait! Your lovely drawing!” Sirius grabbed it off his desk. “I bet your dad is going to love this!”

“He does drawing. For a job!” Teddy shared, gleefully. “I want to do that.”

“Well based on today’s artwork, I think you’d be a fantastic artist!” He smiled down at Teddy, who beamed up at him. “Come on, let’s go find your dad.”

Teddy’s Dad, who Dorcas was, annoyingly, definitely not wrong about, was waiting on the playground alone, looking nervously at the door. He visibly sighed in relief when he saw them and walked towards them.

“Dad!” Teddy ran towards him and was swept up into a hug. “Dad! I did art!”

“You did?” Teddy’s dad asked earnestly. “Can I see it?” Sirius held out the drawing, which he took and examined. He crouched next to his son. “You drew the new house. Wow! That’s so much detail, Teds. This is amazing. We’re going to put this on the wall in the kitchen!”

Teddy grinned at his dad, and then back at Sirius. “Thank you for Today.”

Sirius’ heart melted a little bit, “Thank you, Teddy! Can’t wait to see you tomorrow.”

“Why don’t you go and play on the swings for a minute, while I have a quick chat with Mr…”

“Black.” Sirius supplied, “Sirius.”

Remus nodded as Teddy ran to the tiny swings on the playing field. “Was he alright? No trouble?”

“No trouble at all, he’s a good kid.” Sirius smiled, “His art skills are so advanced for his age. I honestly wouldn’t blink if you told me a ten-year-old drew this. Must be genetic.”

“Ah, he’s been bragging about me?” His cheeks flushed slightly and it was possibly the cutest thing that Sirius had ever seen.

“Yeah, seems he wants to follow in your footsteps.” Sirius paused, “I’m so sorry, I didn’t ask your name.”

“Remus. Lupin.” Remus. That was it. Remus’ cheeks grew pinker. “Well, thank you. I was so nervous about him starting late. He’s my world, but we had to move back. My mum.” Sirius understood. “But it seems he’s... in good hands.” A slight smirk teased the corners of Remus’ mouth.

Sirius had plenty of single mums flirt with him over the years, but this was new. “I’ll tell you what, Remus. Why don’t I give you my number, just in case.” He dragged his eyes up Remus’ torso.

“Sounds good,” Remus said, breathlessly.

[dovesdreaming]

Wish upon a hook

Summary: You couldn’t grant peoples wishes like your mother could but you always asked them what there wish was. Little did you know you were Harry hooks wish.

A/N: thank you so much for 400 followers! <3

Request

Masterlist

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Being the daughter of the Blue Fairy came with certain expectations. People saw you as a beacon of hope and kindness, a gentle spirit who brought light into the darkest places. Your mother had instilled in you the importance of using your magic to help others, to grant wishes and make the world a better place, one act of kindness at a time.

In Auradon, you were known for your generosity. You didn’t have your mother’s full power to grant any wish, but you had a special kind of magic of your own. You could help people find what they truly needed, whether it was a little encouragement, a moment of comfort, or sometimes, something more tangible. You were always willing to listen, always there to help. But even with all your light, there was one place your magic had never reached, the Isle of the Lost. When King Ben announced the integration of the Isle kids into Auradon, you had been one of the few who were genuinely excited. You’d heard so many stories of how terrible the children of villains were supposed to be, but you didn’t believe in judging people by their parents. Everyone deserved a chance to find their own path, to make their own wishes come true. You were determined to help them, even if no one else did. Which was how you found yourself face-to-face with Harry Hook.

It was a sunny afternoon at Auradon Prep, and you were taking a break by the fountain, enjoying the sound of the water as it splashed down into the pool below. The students were bustling about, and there was a sense of excitement in the air with the arrival of the Isle kids. You noticed them scattered around, their expressions wary and uncertain, like they didn’t quite belong. Your heart went out to them. They looked so out of place, and you couldn’t help but wish there was something you could do to make them feel more at home. That was when you saw him.

Harry Hook was leaning against the wall, his usual swagger evident even as he stood still. His coat hung loosely from his shoulders, and his hook glinted in the sunlight as he watched the other students with a smirk. He looked so different from everyone else, like he was daring them to say something, to judge him. You knew about Harry. People whispered about him, warned you to stay away from him and his dangerous ways. But you didn’t see danger when you looked at him. You saw someone who had been dealt a rough hand and was just trying to find his way in a place that seemed to resent him for even existing. So, naturally, you decided to approach him.

With a deep breath, you made your way over, your blue dress swaying slightly as you walked. Harry noticed you immediately, his eyes narrowing in suspicion as you stopped a few feet away from him. “Hello” you said, offering him a gentle smile. “I’m [Y/N]”. Harry raised an eyebrow, his hook tapping against his side. “Aye, I know who ye are”. His voice was thick with his Scottish accent, and there was a hint of curiosity behind the wariness. “Ye’re the Blue Fairy’s lass, aren’t ye?”. You nodded, your smile not faltering. “That’s right. I’m glad to finally meet you, Harry”. He scoffed, his smirk returning as he crossed his arms. “Are ye now? And what would a lass like ye want with someone like me?”. You shrugged, unbothered by his attitude. “I just wanted to say hello. I know it must be difficult, being here. It’s a lot to get used to”.

Harry’s smirk faded a little, and he eyed you suspiciously. “Ye think I need yer pity?”, “Not at all” you replied softly. “I think you’re strong enough to handle anything. But that doesn’t mean it’s easy”. He looked at you for a long moment, like he was trying to figure out what game you were playing. But when he couldn’t find any trace of mockery or pity in your eyes, his expression softened just slightly. “And what would ye know about it, lass?” he asked, his voice quieter, almost thoughtful. You tilted your head, considering your words carefully. “Maybe not much” you admitted. “But I know that everyone has wishes, things they want more than anything. And I try to help, whenever I can”. Harry’s eyes gleamed with something unreadable. “Wishes, eh? Ye think ye can grant wishes?” “Not like my mother can@ you said with a small laugh. “But sometimes, just listening, just trying to help, is enough”.

He looked at you, really looked at you, as if he couldn’t quite believe you were real. You could almost see the gears turning in his mind, like he was deciding whether to trust you or not. Finally, he let out a short laugh, shaking his head. “Yer a strange one, lass. Kindness like yers, it’s dangerous on the Isle”. You smiled softly. “We’re not on the Isle anymore, Harry”. His gaze flickered, a shadow passing over his eyes. “Aye, but the Isle’s still in us”. There was a depth in his words, a pain that you could feel even without him saying more. It made your heart ache for him, for all of them. You wished you could take that pain away, could make things better with a wave of your hand. But that wasn’t how your magic worked. Instead, you did what you could. You stepped closer, looking up at him with earnest eyes. “Is there anything I can do for you, Harry? Anything you wish for?”

He stared at you, his eyes searching your face like he was looking for something he wasn’t sure he’d find. And then, with a smirk that was both teasing and serious, he leaned down, his face inches from yours. “Aye, lass” he murmured, his voice a low rumble. “There is somethin I would like. It’s my secret for now ask me again in a few months”. His eyes sparkled with mischief and with that he turned to walk away only looking back to smirk at your confused expression. What had you gotten yourself into?

After a few months of the isle kids being at Auradon you had grown close to a few of them, one in particular being none other than Harry hook. He had become a good friend, someone you could rely on in moments of need. You would have never expected to have become so close to him after all the whispers you had heard about him, yet here you were. Friends with Harry and wishing you could make him like you back. Alas you would settle for whatever he gave you and if all that was is friendship, so be it.

You were sat down in the gardens under a tree with Harry having a lazy day in the sun when you remembered your first encounter and how he never answered your question. “Hey, Harry?” “Yes lass?” He slowly turned to you opening one eye. “You never answered my question. What do you wish for?” He stared at you before opening his other eye and readjusting his position so he was turned more towards you. He smirked before easily saying “I want you”. You blinked, your heart skipping a beat as his words sank in. “I’m sorry, what?” Harry’s grin widened, and he straightened up, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “Ye heard me. I want ye”.

You felt your cheeks heat up, and you tried to gather your thoughts, stumbling over your words. “Harry, I-I don’t think that’s… what I meant”. He chuckled, clearly enjoying your flustered reaction. “Oh, I know, lass. But ye asked, and I answered”. You stared at him, your mind racing. Was he serious? Was he teasing? You couldn’t tell, and it was driving you crazy. “You can’t just… say things like that!” you finally managed, your voice coming out more breathless than you intended. Harry shrugged, looking entirely too pleased with himself. “Why not? It’s the truth. I want ye, [Y/N]. Been my wish since I saw ye that day”. Your heart was pounding in your chest, and you couldn’t look away from him, from the way he was looking at you like you were the only thing that mattered.

“I… I don’t know what to say,” you whispered. He reached out with his hook, gently lifting your chin so you were forced to meet his gaze. His eyes were serious now, the teasing glint gone as he spoke. “Ye don’t have to say anythin’, lass. Just think about it”. He released you from the prison of his gaze. Moving back with a small, almost shy smile before standing up. “I’ll be around, if ye ever decide to grant that wish”. And with that, he turned and walked away, leaving you sitting under the willow tree, your heart racing and your mind spinning.

You had been having a care free day but somehow, Harry Hook had turned your world upside down with just a few words. And for the first time in your life, you found yourself having your own wish granted. Something, or rather, someone you’d never expected. As your mind finally caught up to what had happened you realised you had to catch up to Harry before he got too far away.

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Thank you for reading!

[folklvrsworld]

a christmas reunion ♤

pairing: ex!harry james potter x wolfstar daughter!reader warnings: mentions of alcohol, slight cursing, weirdo cormac summary: reader gets invited to a christmas party reunion of hogwarts students by pansy parkinson, she didn't expect to find and rekindle with an old flame song: a nonsense christmas - sabrina carpenter

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Storage, check. Keys, check. Personal belongings, check. The only thing left was turning off the lights and then the bookshop would be officially closed for the holiday. I took a quick scan around the place to make sure I didn't forget anything, then my eyes landed on the letter on top of the register counter.

Ah, right. The invitation.

I sighed and walked towards the counter to grab the letter. I looked at the neat and all too familiar handwriting addressing the letter to my bookshop. Opening it again for the second time that day, I was met with the same message.

Dear, Y/N.

Hope you're having a wonderful Christmas time,  if you're not too busy tomorrow, I'm hosting a Christmas party down at the club.

It's reserved for Hogwarts students era '91 only, with some exceptions.

Would be happy if you could join, party starts at eight, ends whenever it ends.

Hoping to see you there!!

PS. the dresscode is everything and anything Christmas

From, Pansy Parkinson.

I knew that I wasn't going to go. After graduating from Hogwarts and opening my own bookshop, I haven't really spoken to any of my Hogwarts friends. With the exception of Pansy and Hermione (who sometimes come in to my bookshop). I have even lost contact with him.

Shoving the letter to my bag, I turned off the lights and walked out of the shop, before locking the door with the shop key. Snow immediately fell down and rested itself onto my hair, I walked to my car and drove home to my apartment in London.

I intended to relax and enjoy this Christmas eve by having some hot chocolate and watching classic Christmas movies in bed. Mid way through my movie and hot cocoa, my phone rang. When I saw the caller ID, I picked it up.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Y/N! Happy Christmas eve!" a familiar cheery voice from the other line called out, "Did you get my invitation?"

I chuckled, "Yes, Pansy. I got your invitation personally delivered by an owl coming into my shop this morning."

"Great, you're coming, right?"

"Uhmmm...." I paused the movie while waiting for her reaction.

"Oh, come on! Don't be such a Grinch."

I scoffed, "Excuse me? I am not anywhere near a Grinch, Pansy Parkinson. I am a very festive person."

"Then come to my party tomorrow! Wouldn't it be fun to have a little Hogwarts Christmas reunion?"

I sighed, "I don't know, Pans. It's been such a long time since we all saw each other. I'm 23 damn years old now, it's been quite some time."

"Woman! That's exactly why I'm hosting this reunion party—Merlin's beard, you never changed." she gave a chuckle.

"And what's that supposed to mean?" I laughed.

She sighed, "Look, just give it some thought. Okay? You don't have to socialize if you don't want to, you can hangout with me."

"Mhm..." I say unconvinced, "Fine, I'll think about it. But I made no promises, alright?"

I can practically hear her smiling through the phone, "Okay, great! I'm counting on it. Anyway, have a great Christmas eve, bye!"

"You too, Pans." I hang up the phone and continued my movie without having any second thought about the party.

But as I tried to sleep that night, thoughts about the party went over my head. Should I go or should I not? Will I regret it after if I didn't go? I decided to sleep it off and make up my mind on Christmas morning.

The next day, I got up earlier to get into the Christmas spirit. I put on some music while I make myself some special breakfast, and when the doorbell rang, I open it to find a delivery man handing me a wrapped present. It was from my dads. The famously known Lupin-Black couple.

I quickly read the christmas card, tearing up at what my papa wrote and silently laughing at what my dad wrote. I really miss them, but I am coming back home for the new years. I put the card aside and opened the box to reveal a pair of beautiful snowflake dangly earrings.

They were absolutely beautiful, I love how they always know what to pick for me. I store them inside my jewelry box and made a mental note to thank them later. After I finished my breakfast and did all of my morning routine, a notification came from the online daily prophet.

Have a very Merry Christmas to all witches

and wizards everywhere!!

To make this day even more festive and fun, all

Hogwarts alumni from '91 are invited to

a Christmas party down at Amortentia.

Get ready to dress up, get drunk, and have a

blast from the past for a reunion!

I click on the notification to find more details about the party. Damn, Pansy really went all out for this. My mind hasn't made up on whether I should go or not, although deep down I knew it wouldn't be so bad to go.

Driven by temptation, I walk over to my closet and look through my very minimum collection of dresses. None of the dresses were Christmassy enough, till I caught my eye on an unopened dress.

It was a red fluffy dress with sparkles all over the fabric, it had a bow around the waist, with a puffy short sleeve to complete the look. I had never worn it before, but it did scream Christmas.

Standing in front of the mirror, I held up the dress to my body and looked at myself up and down. I would look good in it. After some considerable thought I decided that I'm going to that Christmas party. It's not like I'm going just to see if a certain someone is going to be there...

Around seven, I took a shower and got ready. I put on the dress and did my makeup. I wore those snowflake earrings my dads bought for me, did a little crown braid over my hair, and put on a pair of shoes.

Looking at myself once more, I grabbed my purse and wand, put on my big warm coat, then headed out the door. I wasn't going to spend any money on an uber car when I have my own, though I hated driving in the snow.

When I got there, I could already hear party music coming out from the building. A big LED sign that says "Amortentia", Pansy's own personal bar. After locking my car and taking off my coat, I walk towards the door which had a sign that says "Closed for private party."

As I open the door to enter, the bouncer stopped me and asked me for my invitation. Luckily, I had it with me in my purse. He made sure it was the right invitation and he let me in. Christmas party music immediately blasted in my ear as I stepped into the place.

The place was decorated for Christmas, for obvious reasons. I've personally never had been in Pansy's bar since she opened it, I would be lying if I say I wasn't impressed. The place had a huge dance floor and a big bar. A wave of magic energy flew through me, it feels good to be surrounded by wizards again.

"Merlin's beard, Y/N/N! So glad you decided to come!" I heard Pansy yell through the noisy crowd as she walks towards me with a glass of presumably firewhiskey in her hand.

"Hey, Pans. The place looks great! It's way bigger than I imagined." I smiled, "You look very pretty, by the way."

"Awe, thanks babe. Don't even get me started on how you look." she looked at me up and down, "Damn. Anyway, come with me."

Before I could even say anything, she was already dragging me while sipping on her drink. Not a second later, I was by the bar and saw Pansy's slytherin friends. Don't get me wrong, they're my friends as well, but it's been a long time since we ever said a word to each other.

"Look who I brought!" Pansy said in a sing-song voice to her friends, all of their eyes immediately went on me.

"Lupin-Black! Long time no see!" Theodore Nott greeted me with a smile, which I returned back.

Blaise Zabini gave me a fist bump and Draco Malfoy, didn't seem to change, just gave me a nod to indicate that he senses my presence. My anxious self slowly began to calm as I started to talk with them, casually looking around as well and seeing a bunch of familiar faces.

I couldn't help but feel the desperate need to catch a sight of a specific face, a face I knew I would recognize from far away. But no matter how hard I looked, I couldn't seem to find him. Pansy seemed to notice me glancing over my shoulder a few times, so she asked.

"Looking for someone?"

I was brought back to my senses and looked at her, "Hm? No, no one."

"Oh come on, really? You're giving me bullshit for my Christmas present?"

"Ha. Ha. Very funny, but seriously—I'm not looking for anyone." I defended myself.

She sipped her glass, "Alright, if you say so. But just for your information, I did send an invitation to him. So there might be a chance he's here."

I raised an eyebrow and she rolled her eyes, "Stop pretending, Y/N/N. I know who you're looking for and you don't have to be ashamed to say that you're looking for Potter."

My eyes widened as I attempt to shut her up, "Shh! Are you mad?! Don't say that out loud or people might hear and think I'm obsessed with him or something."

"Aren't you...?" she asked lowly, I fought the urge to smack her across the face.

"Pansy. Please. I'm over him, besides he's with Ginny, isn't he?"

She shrugged, "I wouldn't be so sure of that."

The rest of the night surprisingly went very well. I eventually got brave enough to talk to some old friends and had fun on the dance floor with them, it felt good to reminisce on the feeling of having secret booze parties at Hogwarts. It also felt good to drink firewhiskey again.

When I was sitting at one of the couches in the corner, resting my feet from dancing and walking around, I felt an uncomfortable presence beside me. I had a guess on who it might be before even looking at the person.

"Merry Christmas! It's Y/N, right? Hufflepuff? It's been a while, you look hot now." the person said.

I mentally rolled my eyes, "Uhm...yeah."

"You remember me, right? Cormac Mclaggen." he introduced himself, I simply nodded my head.

He scooched himself a bit closer to him, swinging his hand behind so he could touch my shoulder. I avoided his gaze as much as I could. Dear Merlin, get me out of this place.

"Say, what are you doing tonight? Want to maybe come by my place?" he said with a very forced seductive voice.

I held in a breath, "Uhm....I'm good, Cormac."

"I could maybe buy you a drink?" this man would never give up until I agree on something to do with him, would he. 

To my surprise, a voice called out from behind me. A familiar voice, "Sorry, she's here with me."

Cormac seemed to be taken aback, he inched away from me before then walking away like nothing happened. I sighed and stood up to face the person who saved me, "Thanks for that.."

He smiled and nodded his head, "No problem. Can't believe Parkinson invited him to the party, but I guess she invited everyone with no exceptions."

I couldn't help but take a good look at him. He had grown a few inches taller since I last saw him, his brown fluffy hair stayed the same, his body had gotten more fit too. But the thing that mesmerized me the most were his eyes. Those green beautiful eyes. Same as ever.

"How are you, Harry?"

"I've been doing well. I mean—yeah, being head auror isn't an easy job, I almost get zero hours of sleep everyday. But hey, it's the holidays, and I'm surviving" he laughed.

God, I miss him. A lot.

"What about you? I heard that your bookshop's the best in London. I wouldn't be surprised about that, truthfully."

I chuckled, "That might be a little overreacting. But I'm doing really good as well. But I feel the most happy tonight, it's been a while since I'm surrounded by my kind of people."

"I'm surrounded by them everyday. But it's been a while since I saw you." he looked at me and I swear my heart plummeted down to my feet.

Harry and I had a thing back then, it went from third year until the fifth. He was my best friend first, I got along with him and Ron and Hermione really well. He was my first kiss and my first time, but we never addressed our relationship. In other words, our relationship was messy.

It was never clear what we were supposed to be, more like a 'friends with benefits' type of thing, that's why it just kind of fell apart at sixth year. He had a thing for Ginny and started dating her, leaving me heartbroken, but not really surprised.

But seeing him now, looking as good as ever, made me rethink about what we were back then. Making me feel like I wanted him again. But I pushed that thought aside.

He's with someone. You can't do this, it's Christmas.

"I was watching you all night, you here with anyone?" he asked. He was watching me all night?

"No, no one. I even didn't want to go in the first place, but Pansy convinced me. I'm not with anyone, or seeing anyone, for that matter. Just—by myself is all."

Why does it feel like I'm trying to make it super extra fucking clear  that I'm not in a relationship or even as close to seeing anyone? He wouldn't care for that...would he?

"Oh...I see." he said, I could somehow see his body relaxing a bit after hearing my answer.

"What about you? Last time I heard you and Ginny are engaged?" I took an unnoticed gulp.

He chuckled at that, "Oh no, you're way behind on the news. We broke it off a long time ago. It wasn't working. We kept arguing and bringing the worst out of each other."

Oh. He's single.

"I'm so sorry to hear that, I was really happy when I heard about the engagement. I thought you two would've already been married by now.."

He shrugged, "Thinking back now I think I was a little rushed, I'm not ready to be married just yet. Not when I've not gotten the right one." he looked straight at me with a warm smile that managed to make my heart go 'badump'.

"Anyway, what are we both doing here when we could dance while drinking firewhiskey." he broke off the tension, "Dance with me?"

He stretched out his hand and bowed down a bit, smirking up at me and waiting for me to take his hand. What a dork. I laughed and took his hand then he lead me to the dance floor. While we were dancing, he got us both a glass that floated itself to our hands.

I ended up spending the rest of the party with him. Dancing, drinking, laughing, telling stories, everything. It felt like we were both fifteen year olds again, too nervous to label our relationship, but knowing how we felt towards each other deep down.

"How are Sirius and Remus, by the way? Haven't seen them in a very long time." he asked while the party slowly started to die down.

"They're very well. I plan to go home for the new years, you could join me if you'd like." I widened my eyes a few seconds after realizing what I had said, I think the drunkness is slowly getting to me.

"I mean not like....you know. I mean you said you haven't seen them in a long time, so I thought maybe if you would...I don't know—"

He bursts out laughing at how I panicked, "Hey, relax! I wasn't thinking anything like that. I would love to join you, message me about the date and stuff. It'll be fun."

He conjured a piece of paper and a pen then wrote something on it then giving it to me, "Here's my number."

I took it and stared at it, realizing that I indeed did not have his number ever since I got a phone. I smiled and nodded at him, putting the paper in my purse. After another hour, we decided that it was enough partying. So we walked around to try and find Pansy to inform her that we were heading out.

"Y/N/N, there you are! I was looking all over for—oh...I see." Pansy said once we found her, smirking at the both of us, "Had fun?"

"Yeah, the party was a lot of fun. Thanks, Pans. We're going to head out now, I can't have any more drinks or I can't go home." I chuckled.

She continued smirking at us, "Uh huh. Stay safe you two, drive home safely."

After that, we both head on out and was met with the quiet cold air instead of the loud party music once again. I was freezing cold, I shouldn't have put my coat in the car. Harry seemed to notice as he started to take off his own coat.

"Here, wear this." he wrapped his coat around my body and stood there as if he's not freezing to death.

"What about you? I have my own coat, it's just in my car." I said but he just shook his head.

"It's alright, just bring it back to me when we go to your dads for the new years. I'm not that cold anyways."

I chuckled and held onto the coat tighter, "Thank you, Harry. Really. Thank you for hanging out with me at the party as well."

He smiled, "No worries. Truthfully, I wanted to talk to you ever since you stepped in. I saw when you just arrived, but I didn't say anything."

He paused for a few seconds and gulped before continuing, "I just wanted to say that you look extremely pretty tonight. You've always looked pretty, honestly. And uhm...I'm really glad I got to see you again tonight."

I tried so hard not to blush, but it probably wouldn't even show because my cheek and nose were already red from the cold, "I'm really glad I got to see you too, Harry."

We then said goodbye to each other and started to walk our separate ways to our own cars, but then he took my hand and turned me around before giving me a light kiss on the cheek.

"Sorry, couldn't let you leave without doing that." he said quietly.

I stood there, shocked. Smiling shyly and didn't do anything but nod my head slowly, "Alright, bye for now...Get home safe." he said as he walked away and waved.

I kept staring at him until I saw him apparate. I touched my cheek and couldn't help but smile widely. I don't know what in Merlins name just happened but whatever it is, I'm glad I came to this Christmas reunion party.

[violetrainbow412-blog]

Hi! I have a few ideas for Spencer Reid x Reader romantic fics that you could use if you would like. I was thinking about a Hogwarts au with BAU as friends at Wizarding school or where they are adults and work at Ministry as Aurors (analyzing behaviour of dark magic users?).

Or a Star Trek au and them being a team at the ship or a storyline with Spencer being Vulcan and experiencing Pon Farr (Vulcan mating ritual).

Thank you in advance!

First of all, I really LOVED this request. I belong to both fandoms but I write a little better for Harry Potter. I thought about placing them in the school because I wanted to give it a more cheerful tone, but if you're interested I could write about the second suggestion later (where they work in the ministry of magic).

The houses where the characters are assigned are courtesy of this publication and the reader does not have a defined house, so you can imagine it in yours. I hope you enjoy! 🤍

wc: 3.2k

Visits to Hogsmeade have always been the best part of winter, partly because of all the delicious hot drinks you can have and partly because of being able to spend time with all your friends.

Before entering Hogwarts you could not consider yourself a very sociable person, however, as time went by there were certain people who managed to welcome you until you were a group solid enough to win the admiration of students and teachers. After all, seeing so many youths from different houses getting along was not a common thing.

Right now you were walking with Emily and JJ, two exceptional Slytherin girls who, breaking all kinds of stereotypes, were quite sweet. You were going to meet Elle, Penelope and Kate, from Slytherin, Hufflepuff and Gryffindor respectively, at The Three Broomsticks to drink something delicious and catch up on many things that you couldn't discuss during the break.

“Do you think Professor Gideon will give us an extension for the lessons we have to deliver tomorrow?”

“Gideon? No way! I could understand it from Professor Rossi, but he…”

“Do we have homework from Professor Rossi?” Em asked absently and you two laughed at the same time.

“Good morning, girls.”

“Morning, Professor Blake,” you sang in unison, after seeing the woman crossing the street accompanied by Professor McGonagall.

The Three Broomsticks was packed with people moving around, laughing, and sharing drinks. You managed to distinguish, from the higher grades, some prefects gathered at a table and two of them greeted you with a smile: Lewis from Ravenclaw and Hotchner from Hufflepuff. You had seen them a couple of times due to sneaky night visits with your friends, but nothing went beyond that.

You walked a little further and finally caught a glimpse of the table with your friends. They weren’t alone, because in the same place there were four boys that you were very used to: your friend Luke and the charming Derek Morgan from the lion house, the kind Matt who was chatting with his housemate, Penny, and sitting in silence was that sweet boy who made your heart race...

“Hey!” Derek was the first to greet them and everyone started squeezing themselves against the old couches so that the three of you had room.

Emily purposely pushed you first to take the place next to Spencer and when your shoulders collided with his, you saw him smile sheepishly.

“How nice to see you. I didn't know you'd be here."

“Neither do I,” he smiled at you. “Morgan brought me here, he told me we would probably find you.”

You had met the boy through your potions classes, when the two of you had to sit together due to lack of space at another table. Even so, the incident hadn’t gone completely bad because you discovered that he was a great boy, it was just that his shyness prevented him from actively participating in everything related to the social aspect.

When you discovered that Derek was a mutual friend, he didn't hesitate to start inviting the brunette to watch his Quidditch practice and sometimes you kept him company so he wouldn't feel bored. You discovered that what you had in common was a fascination with the dark arts and criminals, a passion that would later unite your entire group, and over the years your friendship consolidated into what you saw now. But as time went by you grew up and by this point Spencer was already too handsome and gentlemanly to ignore. Spending so much time with him inevitably gave you a small crush on the smartest guy in the entire room.

During visits to Hogsmeade it was common to see Spencer in bookstores or quieter places, so you were happy that they had taken him out of his routine so that he ended up with his leg stuck to yours, with barely any room to move.

Once you were there, the entire table became a tide of murmurs and laughter in which you participated from time to time, especially when you had to corroborate one of your housemates' anecdotes.

“Do you want me to order you something to drink?” Spencer asked cordially, as a waiter came over to ask if you guys wanted to order anything else.

You had never discovered if the Ravenclaw next to you reciprocated your feelings, but actions like that caused you a certain illusion that you didn't want to pay too much attention to.

“Huh, Butterbeer?” You responded with a smile and he took care of passing the message to the clerk, making sure to also slip a couple of galleons into his hand to pay “So the tutoring went well, right?” you tried to joke.

Your friend had found a prosperous activity by offering tutoring for those who needed it and although he only accepted donations, many rich children preferred to pay an excellent salary to have a private teacher's class 24 hours a day, which assured them a good grade. He was always willing to help anyone at the table at no cost and he was undoubtedly the head of his house's favorite, but everyone pretended not to notice it.

“I could say yes”

“But I'll only let you buy me one,” you threatened while he smiled and shook his head, possibly planning to buy you everything you asked for despite your complaints.

“Have you heard what happened in the prefects' bathroom on the fifth floor?” you all heard Elle say, who always got the best gossip from who knows where.

When the entire group leaned in to listen better, your cheek was almost touching Spencer's and in that position it was not the best idea to turn to look at him, because when he did the same your lips were about to touch and by instinct you moved away to avoid it, cheeks flushing in response.

Even though everyone was paying attention to Elle's story, you could feel Spencer shift slightly uncomfortably in his spot and you hoped it wasn't your fault.

“But hey, the really important question here is…” Kate began, taking a long gulp of her hot chocolate just for dramatic effect “Do you guys have a date for the Yule ball yet?”

The yule ball, you had almost forgotten about that. You had received a few proposals, but you hadn't responded to any of them yet and a part of you was hoping that with this Spencer would have the courage to invite you, because you didn't want to go with anyone else but him.

Emily was the first to tell her plans to invite none other than Prefect Aaron and you all burst into mocking boos at your friend's brazen plan. JJ would go with another Hufflepuff boy named Will, Penelope would go with Morgan like the best friends they were, while the rest had partners that you didn't know yet but that they would make sure to introduce you to.

When everyone talked about their plans they looked in the direction of Spencer and you, as if they wanted to hear your plans too.

“I have received some proposals, but I still don't know who I should say yes to”

“I'm not going”

Hearing Spencer say that made your heart drop and although you tried to maintain your composure your friends couldn't help but notice the disappointed expression that you tried to hide by drinking your Butterbeer.

Why didn't Spencer want to go to the ball? You had already imagined him wearing a nice gala suit with those well-combed golden locks and a corsage the color of your dress, but your hopes seemed destined to die there.

“Come on, Reid! "Everyone's going," Luke murmured, but the man just put on a tight-lipped smile and looked away.

You didn't even want to look at him or you knew your eyes would give you away, so you tried to focus on something else.

Seeing that he wouldn't offer any more reasons, the talk continued and when your beer was finished you felt Spencer lean a little closer to you, until his lips were at the height of your ear. Out of inertia you tilted your head a little to get into a position that involved the closest possible approach.

“Do you want to go for a walk?” he asked softly, sending a shiver through your entire body.

You wanted to lean closer until you melted into him and, with any luck, the movement would force him to kiss you on the cheek.

“I would love to,” you managed to respond when you finally shook off those fantasies and he smiled next to you while he got up from his place.

"Where are you going?"

“Outside, for a walk,” you informed. The same mischievous smile crossed Elle and Derek's faces.

"Oh, sure. Have fun walking, lovebirds,” she murmured while the man simulated exaggerated kissing sounds.

"You guys are idiots"

You grabbed your jacket while you heard everyone laughing and even with that sound in the background you started walking with your friend towards the exit, trying not to pay attention to the romantic advances they were making.

As soon as you got out of there you noticed the severe change in weather and rubbed your hands against each other while blowing air on them in hopes of keeping some heat. The white snow covered the entire town and it was quite a beautiful sight.

“Peace and tranquility,” your friend sighed, after taking a deep breath, and you laughed.

“Were you that suffocated in there?”

“I don't like it when everyone talks at the same time. Too much noise"

You knew that Spencer was a little different from the others and sometimes he could feel uncomfortable with social situations, but most of the time when he wanted to get out of there he asked you to accompany him. Was that some kind of sign or were you just misunderstanding things?

“Have you bought anything at Honeydukes yet?” you asked to open the conversation.

You didn't know whether to put your hands in your pockets or keep them crossed to protect yourself a little from the cold air, so you just kept rubbing them together.

"Yes a while ago. Buy acid pops, frogs, and jelly slugs”

“We buy Bertie Bott’s every flavor beans”

“Since the time I tried one that tasted like rotten eggs, I can't even look at them without gagging,” he confessed while wrinkling his nose, a gesture that you had long ago discovered was common for him.

“Emily says she once tried one that tasted like cat litter, but I don't believe her. And if I were to believe her it would be very disgusting because come on, how would you know what that taste tastes like if you haven't tried it before?”

Spencer's laugh had always been a sound that melted you from the inside out, one you could listen to for hours without getting tired.

You continued along the cobblestone path chatting pleasantly about some academic matters, a little about the future, and sometimes about the most trivial things, until you were far enough away from the hustle and bustle of the town.

There was a little desolate bench next to the road and both of you silently agreed to head over there so you could sit for a moment.

You could see his mismatched socks underneath the robe and the obvious height difference made you able to move your legs back and forth. There was just a space between you where you rested your hand, your pinky almost touching his.

“Did you know that all snowflakes are symmetrical? They have six sides and always reflect light as if they were precious stones. I read it the other day in a book.”

The comment was about the fact that, of course, small flakes of snow had begun to fall. You smiled from ear to ear and stretched out your tongue to capture one, while Spencer watched you sweetly from the opposite side.

“When you were little did you play in the snow?”

“My mom never let me do it. I was a sickly child.”

“And now you're not?” you asked softly.

Just when he was about to respond, your hands reached up to his neck to adjust his two-color scarf and Spencer held his breath at the closeness, while he focused on your cheeks flushed from the cold.

You were the prettiest girl he had ever met and he was afraid to tell anyone, because he would know that when a secret was told sooner or later it ended up reaching the ears of whoever he was trying to hide from. Although he believed that probably all of Hogwarts could tell that he liked you just by the way he sighed whenever you were around.

“Spencer?”

"What?"

“Are you sickly now too?” you asked again and he felt stupid for getting too nervous to forget what you had just told him.

"A bit"

"Well, I hope so. Come"

You took his wrist to guide him out of your seat and led him to a blank space on the floor, where in spring it was probably full of grass, immediately throwing yourself with your gaze towards the sky.

"What are you doing?"

“Lie down, we’re going to make a snow angel.”

Spencer looked hesitant for a second, but then he knelt next to you, imitating your position somewhat awkwardly. When you started to move your arms and legs he thought about regretting it, although in the end he didn't, and very soon the two of you were already laughing out loud at how clumsy the situation was.

At some point you stopped and turned slightly until you were face to face, looking at each other's flushed skin and bright smiles. Looking at him you thought about how happy it made you to be with him, more so than with any of your other friends, although you didn't know if it was due to the boy's calm nature or simply your feelings for him reflecting back.

“We're definitely going to catch a cold,” he observed intelligently as he sat up and shook the snow out of his brown hair, which only made you laugh more. “Come on, I don't think snot matches your future dress.”

You took the hand he was offering to help you up and knew that if you didn't take advantage of that opportunity you probably wouldn't be able to talk to him about it again.

“You're really not going to the ball?”

You were sitting next to him, too close for the boy's poor nerves, and there was a clear tone of disappointment in your words. As if that weren't enough, you still hadn't let go of his hand.

“Huh, I don't think so. I don't like that kind of environment” he excused himself, making a small face. You nodded with understanding, but evidently discouraged “Besides, no one has invited me.”

“And why haven't you invited a girl?”

Spencer looked away at your question and cringed a little from his spot, as if he were afraid to answer you. You waited a minute for him to think.

“I just want to save myself the embarrassment of them saying no.”

“Why would anyone say no to you?” you immediately asked in genuine disbelief.

“Because I'm not handsome! And because I spend my time in the library instead of training quidditch and I'm not even athletic and... I don't know, because I'm weird."

“Oh, shut up, Spencer” the stern tone in your voice surprised him, but before he could say anything you continued talking “You're a great guy, you're dedicated and studious, you're kind. You're not weird at all. Well… maybe a little bit, but not as a negative trait, but as something that makes you stand out”

"So you think?" He asked and you nodded effusively. “I still don’t think there’s anyone left for me.”

“Come with me” you breathed out without thinking.

You had wanted him to come with you so much that you didn't even care if you invited him or he did, you just wanted to dance with him and have a valid reason to hold his hand. Even if you were doing it for no reason right now.

"Go where?"

“To the ball, genius!” You laughed nervously. “I don’t have a partner yet.”

“But… you said you had several invitations,” he reminded you, clearly confused. He had dismissed the idea that you were interested when you had said that, contrary to the idea you wanted to give him.

“Yes, but none of them are as charming as you.”

You didn't even know where you had gathered the courage to flirt with him but luckily it seemed to be working. Spencer was quiet for a moment and although you couldn't tell it he was fighting to keep his brain from spontaneously combusting.

Were you really offering him the chance to be your date?

“Unless you're not interested…”

"No!" he interrupted you. In his eyes you could see the shine of the snow and a certain enthusiasm that calmed you greatly “I would love to go with you.”

The smile that crossed your face wasn’t normal and you wished you could better hide your joy at his response, but no matter how hard you tried, you knew it would be impossible.

“It's probably a bit bland and superficial, but I think we can have fun.”

“Did you know that balls were initially used for courtship? In Victorian times they were the social space where a gentleman could look for a lady he wanted to marry and there were certain dances, protocols, and rules”

“Luckily we don't have all that rigor now,” you exclaimed. “You just have to take a couple of classes with Professor Gideon to know how to behave.”

“I thank Merlin that Professor Blake was there to help us because otherwise it would have been most embarrassing.”

“I want to see you dance,” you said in an excited tone, while you gave his hand a light squeeze. Against all odds Spencer used that grip to pull you in his direction until he wrapped you in a hug.

“You're not inviting me because you feel sorry for me, right?”

You gasped almost annoyed.

“For a Ravenclaw you're sometimes quite an idiot, you know that?” you murmured against his chest, which then vibrated with a nervous laugh.

You wished you could confess to him how much you had wanted to achieve this and erase all those pointless worries with everything you thought about him, but you knew that if you had you would probably have to confess how much you liked him and you weren't ready for this yet.

You were silent for a moment until you dared to separate a little to look him in the eyes and then speak seriously.

“Never think that I invite out of pity, Reid. I invite you because you are my friend and I really like being with you.”

He had to hug you again until you saw his face or somehow you would have discovered more than you should about his true feelings towards you.

“I'm glad to know that,” he sighed, resting his flushed cheek against the top of your head.

Spencer didn't know if his hopeful heart could handle the wait to see you in a beautiful dress and dance with you all night long, but for now he would have to settle for the warmth he felt from having you in his arms, smiling like a fool just for you.

taglist: @navs-bhat @reidwritings @tricia-shifting14 @spencerslove @instabull @rhiannonhippiegirl @r-3dlips @missabsey @olivia’s-25 @liptonsbabe @moonbutterflyx

[writing-in-the-impala]

Secret Smokes (Part 2)

Pairing: Teacher! Remus Lupin x Reader

Series Summary: When the reader bumps into the new DADA professor on the bridge in Hogwarts she begins to build a friendship with him all thanks to their shared feeling of not belonging and love for muggle cigarettes. Their friendship blooms while they both fight internal battles deciding what is wrong and what is right leading to a lot of fluff, angst, flirting and a rollercoaster of emotions.

Warnings: Swearing, Drinking, teacher-student relationship (but like it’s all legal chill), SLOWburn we’re in for a long ride

Word Count: 2267

A/N: Thank you for all the love on part 1, every nice comment gives me the motivation to keep posting!

This story takes place in a AU where Harry's parents are still alive so Remus Lupin still has all his friends and there is no war however that doesn't make him any less angsty. Everything else is pretty much the same as the canon universe! Enjoy!

 | SERIES MASTER LIST | Previous Chapter, Part 2, Next Chapter

GIF by stephanieromanoff

The next day in class it felt like you and Lupin had your own little secret, when you walked in you could feel his eyes on you immediately, he smiled gently when your eyes met. After that there were no other abnormal interactions between the two of you, which in a way you felt great full for as you didn't want to feel uncomfortably in his lessons like you had something to hide. That evening you went back to the bridge to find Professor Lupin standing in the exact same place. "I didn't know you were such a creature of habit profesor." You said as a greeting.

"You obviously don't know me." He smiled gently at you. "When I was at Hogwarts I used to come to this very spot when I wanted some alone time. I had some of the best cigarettes of my youth in this very spot." He explained.

"Now that's not fair because this is where I've always gone to smoke. I think you need to leave Hogwarts profesor this bridge is not big enough for the two of us."

"Shame, I bought Camel Gold today." He pulled out the packet to show you.

"What I've only tried Camel Blue, can I have one." You asked on excitedly.

"I know as your teacher I should be worried by how much you just got excited over a cigarette packet but as a human I think it's funny." He said honestly.

"So can I try one?" You asked and he passed you one. "How come you've got muggle smokes?" You asked him.

"I prefer them, they have a camel on them." He shot a wink your way and you laughed.

"No but seriously, I thought wizards didn't think muggle ones were good enough." You asked.

"People just say that to sound better than muggles, I like to be honest. For example the people who refuse to read muggle books... they're missing out on some of the best literature they'll ever read because they're elitist." You liked this side of your Professor.

"Professor Lupin, I think you just became my favourite teacher." You said.

"You became my favourite student when you gave me a smoke." He shot another wink at you as he stood leaning back on the wood, with hands in his pockets looking at you.

"You're not supposed to have favourites you know." You teased him. He raised his eyebrows in shock and shot back. "You're not supposed to smoke on school grounds, you know." You laughed and he took another drag while smiling. Not much else was said, he finished his cigarette checked his watch like the night before and said he should get back, then echoing once again that you should make your way back to your dorm so you don't get in trouble for wandering the halls.

You watched him walk away, he had one hand in his pocket, never looking back at you as he walked into the darkness. You followed after he left your site and walked back to the common room. When you entered Percy was sitting reading a book near the door almost as if he was waiting for you. "What time do you call this L/N?" He said mockingly.

"Shut it Weasley." You replied sitting down beside him.

"Has Y/N gotten a new boyfriend already?" He asked lifting his eyebrow.

"No nothing like that Percy, my dear boy, you have nothing to worry about." You said resting a head on his shoulder.

"I know you attract trouble Y/N, both in boys and just how you like to spend your time." Percy began to gently lecture you.

"Are you my dad Percy?" You asked poking him.

"Y/N, I know you want a muggle job but please don't spend all your messing around with some boy and pulling pranks." He continued.

"Okay Percy this is not becoming a fun conversation, I was just having a smoke." You said.

"That's another thing you need to-" Percy began as you stood up and walked away.

"Is Percy lecturing you?" Fred said as he entered the room.

"Yup, telling me no to pranks and boys." You pouted and Percy rolled his eyes.

"He's just jealous, but we all know if you went for a Wesley you'd be choosing me or George not Percy." He said with a wink.

"You all disgust me, I'm going to bed." You said before leaving the room. You knew Percy was right and cared but you just wanted a pain free last year. The Weasley boys all cared for you a lot, they were like you wizard family, you even joined them on holidays sometimes. They were a welcoming family and whoever the children befriend would always be welcome in their home. Over summer you went camping with the Weasley family, Harry Potter joined and so did Hermione Granger. You got along with Hermione quite a lot as you shared many similarities, however she happily immersed herself in the wizarding world unlike you. Even though she was younger than you she always felt like someone you could have real conversations with. You considered yourself a friendly person but apart from the Weasley twins and Hermione you didn't have anyone else you could have truly deep conversations with, not even Percy as he worries too much.

You fell asleep thinking about Percy's words, however in the morning against his wishes you decided to skip most of your lessons. After breakfast you went outside to sit by the lake with a book, missing your first two lessons of the day. You decided to attend potions as you enjoyed it and found it a useful skill, when you entered the class Percy gave you a sad smile of disappointment. "Are you okay?" He simply asked instead of grilling you about skipping all the previous classes. "My mind was foggy when I woke up, I needed some air." You said and he gave you a nod.

"You can borrow my notes." He said and you thanked him. "You know Y/N, if you need to talk I'm here. If your brain is being difficult this year again we can help you through it." He continued sounding a bit too much like a teacher.

"It's fine it's just that feeling of being out of place again now that I'm back-" you began before Snape interrupted with "L/N. Weasley. Is your conversation more important than my class?"

"Sorry profesor." Percy and you quickly replied cutting your conversation short. Snape decided to keep you back after class to take away 5 points each and to tell you how important it is for you to focus this year words that made you want to roll your eyes. When you left you were already late for DADA. "Are you coming?" Percy asked and you shook your head no, he didn't ask any questions and just nodded his head. You walked back to the common room where you bumped into Fred and George who where also skipping, the three of you spent the time chatting and playing games and showing off trick to each other and didn't attend a single lesson for the rest of the day. You even had time to plan out a new minor prank and make plans to go to the three broomsticks soon as you need to go shopping for supplies for your prank anyway. In the evening you were in the common room mentally debating if you should head to the bridge today to meet Lupin as you did in fact miss his lesson, and if he sees you, you can't lie about being ill. You opened the Marauders map to check his location and noticed he was walking towards the bridge, you knew you can explain your way out of not being in his lesson today and that you wanted not only to smoke but also to talk to him so you headed to join him. As you approached he was in his usual spot leaning looking out as always, but today he wasn't smoking as you approached, he was waiting for you. You walked down the bridge towards him and he stood up straight and smiled taking out the cigarette out his pocket and offering you one as soon as you were an arms length away. "I feel bad taking yours." You said with a smile as you took one of your own out.

"I don't mind." He said gently. "Besides I like the company when I smoke, so it's in my interest for you not to smoke your whole stash before Christmas." He said knowingly.

"I can tell you've been through the pain of being a student that's addicted to nicotine." You said as you both lit your cigarette, he did it wand free you did it with a physically lighter.

"Weeks seem extremely long when you've run out and you know you're leaving Hogwarts in a week but it means a week with not a single smoke."

"Asking other to bump theirs." You added

"But they're all out too." He finished.

"You're a pro." You said with a smile making him laugh. Silence fell upon you before he spoke first.

"Did I do something to offend you Y/N?" He asked shocking you.

"What? No? Why?" You asked in confusion.

"You didn't attend class today." He simply stated turning to face you.

"Oh. That's nothing personal towards you profesor, I only attended one class today." You simply stated.

"Were you feeling ill? I'm sure Madame Pomfrey-" He began, giving you a perfect opportunity to lie.

"No." You simply said resulting in a surprised look from Lupin. "I just simply don't see the point in attending classes." You explained and he gave you a puzzled look encouraging you to explain, you looked away from him into the distance before speaking. "I'm getting a muggle job. So these exams mean nothing for my future."

"How can you be sure you'll never want a job in the wizarding world?" He questioned.

"Because I don't feel welcome by it. I'm an outsider, and I've always felt like wizards are afraid of me because I grew up as a muggle." You explained.

"You know there's many great witches and wizards who are muggle born. My mother was a muggle and I was raised in a mostly non-magic household."

"And do you feel welcome? Do you feel like they don't have prejudice against you and fear you?" You questioned and you could see you had gone too far as he looked taken aback and had a sad look on his face. "Sorry, I shouldn't have said that." You added.

"No, it's okay. Yes I do feel those feeling sometimes, more than you would imagine... for many reasons not just because of my parents. But I don't think that can control what you do. If you don't learn magic to your best abilities they win. They don't want you to know things like potions and defence against the dark arts because they're scared you and many other great wizards will stand up for the underdog. However if we don't learn this stuff, we let them win. Who will protect muggles during dark times, if not great witches like you?" He became very emotional and was the one to nearly say sorry this time but you responded before he could.

"You know professor, you make a good point." You said looking down in embarrassment as he was correct and you felt guilty for all the lessons you missed and the knowledge you could've gained. "No one ever put it like that... I've always been told but what if you want to work in magic, but I never thought about who is protecting the people who can't fight magic with magic." You continued.

"Since I was a child I hated magical beings, they scared me." Lupin began, opening up. "But i realised we can do amazing things, cure diseases, protect innocent lives all through magic, to completely block it out of your life because some horrible kids don't treat muggle born wizards kindly would be a mistake, instead spite them and learn more than them so you can protect people against them." He said, everything felt very personal and you appreciated his words even if he was saying it all just because he's your teacher.

"Thank you for that professor, that's probably the best advice I've heard from any teacher in this school." You admitted.

"I'd like to see our conversations as more than just a teacher talking to his student but as a friendly discussion, as I think sometimes bright young women like yourself need someone to talk to them honestly. I know I wish someone had a conversation like that with me when I was in your place." He said with a kind smile at the end. "Anyway, I must get back and so must you as I've talked for a bit too long and it's quite a bit past your curfew." He said checking his watch. "Would you like me to escort you back so you don't get in trouble for wandering the halls at night?" He offered.

"It's okay professor, I know how to sneak out after dark and not get caught." You said with a smile and he laughed softly.

"I'm sure you do." He shook his head as if to say that he knows it's wrong he's allowing you to smoke and sneak around at night but he finds it humorous. "Good night Y/N." He said before walking away. "Goodnight Professor Lupin."

-

NEXT CHAPTER!

[itsrainingbubbles]

My brother is slowly getting me into Harry Potter and now all I wanna read is lawlu Harry Potter aus

I want Luffy to know all sorts of spells but they'll be the most random things ever and don't even connect to each other, he learned them only cause it looked fun

Which compared to law who knows almost all practical spells and almost none of the ones Luffy knows

I want law to go to Luffys quidditch games cause luffy would play quidditch and law would always cheer for Luffy instead of his own house

I want them to trade ties and take turns sitting at each others tables so much that new students aren't really sure which house they belong to

I want magical dates of law learning spells catering to Luffy and his interests and Luffy being so excited and then law teaching Luffy the spells as another date