#harry potter xreader

[velnias1]

Small little blurb for Theo Nott

Reader is wolfstars daughter

Vienna

Theo hummed a song he didn’t know the name of as he read, his head rested on his palm. He softly sang “Vienna waits for you”

And then stopped abruptly. He’d heard that song before. A muggle song no doubt. So where had he heard it? A sea of memories flashed through his mind, all concerning his potions partner. A girl, a girl he had been thinking about a lot. He remembered how sweet the melody sounded coming from her lips as she scribbled potions ingredients on a piece of parchment. His dreamy memory sharpened and the name scrawled on the parchment came into focus, Y/N Lupin. He felt his heart speed up, he was in love with one of his best friend’s cousin.

[magiclostinfantasy]

Blind Date || Theodore Nott x Reader

Warnings: swearing, Draco trying to play matchmaker Summary: Y/N and Theo's friends set them up on a blind date, not knowing they've secretly been dating.

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Theodore Nott did not go on blind dates, never felt the need to. He liked to believe that he could pull any girl he wanted. After all, who could resist that handsome face and Italian charm?

So, it came to him as a surprise when he found himself seated at Madam Pudifoot’s tea shop, sipping earl grey from a dainty, white teacup. He had been sitting at an intricately decorated table, looking like an idiot for the past fifteen minutes, waiting for his date.

Theodore wasn’t sure how he had let his friends convince him to go to this. He wasn’t sure why he had. He had a girlfriend for god’s sake- not that his friends knew. So, it really wasn’t their fault, he supposed.

His eyes scanned his surroundings, noticing all the lovey-dovey couples seated around him. He was painfully aware of how sad his situation looked. A handsome young boy sitting alone at a table for two in a restaurant full of happy couples. He groaned internally. Where the fuck was his date?

Just as he decided to leave, the door of the tea shop was thrown open. He turned around to see what the commotion was about and saw none other than his girlfriend. Y/n L/n.

Her eyes were blown wide, chest panting as she tried to catch her breath. Theodore’s face lit up as he saw her. She looked gorgeous - out of breath and absolutely gorgeous.

Y/n’s eyes locked with his as she scanned the crowd and a confused look crossed her face. Muttering apologies to everyone, she made her way over to him.

“Theo? What are you doing here?” She asked, sitting down across from him. Her cheeks flushed at the sight of her boyfriend. He grinned, offering her some tea. 

“I’m here for a blind date.”

She scoffed in amusement, taking the cup. “Me too.” 

They sipped their tea, eyes meeting as they did and a burst of laughter erupted from them both. Their friends had set them up together! The absurdity of the situation hit them like a spell gone wrong.

The couples around them looked over at the unexpected outburst, eyebrows raised in part curiosity and part irritation. Theo and Y/n couldn’t stop their laughter, though. This situation was just too funny!

Y/n wiped away a tear, her smile wide. “Bloody hell. This is not what I had been expecting.” She shook her head.

“Neither did I, love.” Theo agreed, his laughter dissolving  into a warm smile.

Their friends had no clue they were dating and had decided they would be the perfect match.

“Clearly, those idiots don’t know us as well as they think they do,” Y/N replied, chuckling. “But it’s kind of sweet.”

Theo nodded, his eyes gleaming. “How about we head somewhere more… comfortable?”

Y/N smirked, rising from her seat. “I know just the place.”

Leaving Madam Pudifoot’s behind, they strolled through the chilly streets of Hogsmeade.Their cheeks turned deep red as the cool night air hit them.

As they approached the Three Broomsticks, Theo couldn’t help but press a gentle kiss to Y/n’s forehead. He grinned as he remembered the moments the two had shared. The stolen kisses, the shared laughter and the secret dates, all kept hidden from their friends.

They found a cosy corner in the pub and settled in. The atmosphere was a nice change from the tea shop. It was all lively, with sounds of clinking glasses and cheerful banter filling the air. The couple ordered butterbeer and raised their classes for a toast to the turn of events.

Back at Madam Pudifoot's, their friends all sat dumbfounded. Draco, the mastermind behind the date, gaped at Theo and Y/n as they got up and left together. 

“Shiit. Did we miss something?” Pansy asked, nudging Draco’s side. She glanced around at the others who seemed just as confused. Blaise shook his head, grinning. “Looks like the little lovebirds have plans of their own.”

With that, the friend group left the tea shop, deciding to head to the Three Broomsticks to celebrate with butterbeer.

As Theo and Y/n continued to enjoy their company, a group of familiar faces burst through the door. They spotted each other, surprised faces morphing into amusement.

Mattheo sauntered over to the couple, a teasing look plastered on his face. “Would you look at what we have here? Care to explain, lovebirds?”

Theo and Y/n exchanged humoured looks before bursting into laughter again. It seemed that their friends had accidentally created a reunion instead of a blind date.

“We’ve been dating for a year, you oblivious idiots.” Theo exclaimed, wrapping his arm around a giggling Y/n.

Draco pouted, turning to Pansy. “I think we might need to brush up on your matchmaking skills.”

Pansy raised a brow at him. “Bitch, you mean you need to brush up on your matchmaking skills.”

The group rolled their eyes as they continued bickering. Squeezing in, the Slytherins joined the couple in their booth and The Three Broomsticks became a mere backdrop.

Enzo raised his butterbeer in another toast, “To surprises and these two lovey-dovey shits.” He winked. He was met with cheers and smiles from the group. Theo and Y/N exchanged a glance, their hearts swelling with happiness.

As the night drew to a close, the group left the Three Broomsticks. Theo and Y/N walked side by side, their fingers entwined.

“I’m glad this happened. We don’t have to be a secret anymore.” She whispered to him. He nodded, squeezing her hand. “Me too, love. Me too.”

[7s3ven]

LAST CHRISTMAS. tom riddle

( master list )

IN WHICH… Tom can’t fall in love, he shouldn’t be able to fall in love. So why does he love Y/N L/N with her yellow robes, doe eyes, and her obsession with snow so much that he’d kill anyone in his path to get to her?

Minor warnings : Not proof-read, kind of long, dark Tom Riddle, somewhat yandere

—

“It may be hard to believe, but there was a time where Voldemort loved someone. He was young… barely eighteen. He loved her so much… that he would kill for her. So he did. He killed every boy interested in her and every girl who tormented her. And then he turned on her. Nobody knows what happened to sweet Y/N L/N. Maybe he killed her, maybe she got away… or maybe she stayed with him and let him taint her heart.

He was a boy who knew nothing of real love while she was a girl who wanted nothing but that.”

Tom couldn’t fall in love. He physically shouldn’t be able to fall in love. He wouldn’t let himself to fall in love. He would not allow himself that wretched moment of weakness his peers all seemed to suffer from.

Every day it was always, “Riddle, will you go out with me?” His answer was always no yet these lovesick girls never learned. They all flocked to him like annoying seagulls to a single, lonely chip.

“Excuse me,” A hand suddenly tapped Tom’s shoulder. He turned around, almost glowering at the girl in front of him. Before he could reject her, she spoke up. “You, uh, left this, Riddle.”

Of course, she knew his name but he didn’t know her’s.

She held out Tom’s precious diary and he was quick to snatch it out of her grip. He observed it, narrowing his eyes slightly before he subtly nodded. “Thank… you…” The words felt strange rolling off his tongue. He had never thanked anybody. He hesitated because he didn’t know her name.

“Y/N L/N.” She uttered, smiling.

“What?”

“My name is Y/N L/N. You seemed confused… so I thought you didn’t know me.”

Tom’s eyes flickered to the prefect badge pinned proudly to her robe. He arched an eyebrow. “You… you’re a prefect?” He questioned. He had never seen her at the meetings, which was strange because he noticed everyone.

“Yeah. Head girl.” Y/N beamed again, hardly offended by the fact that Tom didn’t know her despite them being counterparts.

Tom found it strange how he didn’t know her. He was supposed to considering she was the head girl. Tom observed her, staring at Y/N’s Hufflepuff uniform and the yellow ribbons intertwined with her braided hair.

“Right.” Tom muttered, clearing his throat.

“It was a pleasure talking to you, Riddle. I’ll see you around.” Y/N was the first to walk away. Tom wasn’t used to that because normally, he did that. He stared at Y/N’s back, eyebrows furrowed slightly.

Everybody was frightened by Tom’s cold demeanour, but not Y/N. She had approached him so casually without a second thought.

Tom shook his head, sighing under his breath. “Hufflepuffs.”

The next time Tom stumbled upon Y/N was when she had been cornered by three Slytherin girls. He recognized the ringleader as the girl he had rejected last week.

“Stay away from Tom.” The silver-haired girl grumbled, invading Y/N’s personal space. Y/N didn’t seem at all phased. She just smiled as she stared into the girl’s bright blue eyes.

“I’m sorry, who are you?” Y/N questioned, innocently tilting her head to the side.

“Just stay away from Tom, got it?” The Slytherin girl repeated, her glare hardening.

Tom cleared his throat from behind the trio, making his presence known. “Is there a problem here?” He asked, arching an eyebrow.

The trio of Slytherin girls instantly recognized his voice. “Riddle!” The ringleader exclaimed, jumping. She nervously smiled. “We were just helping L/N here. She needed help with… uh…” She trailed off, her eyes wildly darting around.

“Her makeup!” One of her friends piped up, “She likes a boy and wanted our help!”

The third girl quickly nodded and grabbed Y/N by the shoulders, pushing her forward. “Isn’t she pretty? Imagine how pretty she would be with makeup!”

Tom’s stare hardened. He glanced down at Y/N, his lips pressed into a thin line. “She’s pretty enough as is.” He spoke, reaching out to grasp a strand of Y/N’s hair. “Well, I’ll be needing her. Prefect business, you understand?” Tom ripped Y/N from the girl’s grasp and led her down the long, winding hallway.

“Do you always have to deal with those pests?” Tom questioned, looking at Y/N once more.

“They aren’t that bad. They were worse in first year.” She smiled but that didn’t comfort Tom.

“You shouldn’t let them push you around. I’ll talk to them and make sure they never bother you again.” Tom furrowed his eyebrows.

“Oh, you don’t have to do that.” Y/N uttered, but Tom didn’t hear her. He was already walking off, his hands shoved deep into his pockets. Y/N frowned. “I hope he doesn’t kill them… he looks like the type.”

Y/N sighed, shaking her head. “No. He wouldn’t murder anybody. He’s the head boy.” She walked off in the opposite direction, quietly humming under her breath, unknown to the horrors Tom was committing with his damn pet snake.

Y/N strutted into the Great Hall, ready to eat dinner and gossip about useless things with her friends. But when she approached her companions, she was overwhelmed with their questions.

“Y/N, did you hear about the attacks?”

“I heard those three Slytherin bullies were targeted.”

“Well, they kind of deserved it. It’s not like they’re fully dead. They’re just stone.”

Y/N sat down, confused. “What happened?” And asked, tilting her head to the side.

Bella was the first to explain. “You know those three Slytherin girls who are always picking on you? They were all found turned to stone.” She looked around to make sure nobody was listening before she leaned forward and whispered, “The professors say it wasn’t a hex so they don’t really know what to do.”

“Oh… that’s…” Y/N couldn’t muster up any words. She glanced over at Tom, who was drinking out of his golden goblet. He locked eyes with her and his lips twisted into a cruel smirk.

“Did they find the perpetrator?” Y/N questioned, looking at Bella.

“No. I heard a few students talking about some sort of chamber but I wasn’t close enough to hear anything else.”

For the rest of dinner, Y/N was distracted by the way Tom kept glancing over at her. She felt a sick feeling in her stomach and she tried to convince herself that Tom played no part in this whole mess.

“I think I’m going to go to bed early.” Y/N stiffly smiled as she drank the last of her water from her cup.

Y/N quickly stood up, speed-walking out of hall. She heard someone following her and she spun around, hoping it wasn’t Tom. Luckily, it wasn’t.

It was a Gryffindor boy with messy black hair and stunning blue eyes. He grinned at her. “Y/N L/N, right?”

She slowly nodded.

“Listen, I’ve been interested in you for a while and I don’t want you to feel inclined to accepting my offer, but I would love if you would come to Hogsmeade with me.”

Y/N awkwardly smiled. “Ah, sorry, I’m a little busy. Maybe next time?” She suggested, trying to brush past the boy. But he grasped her wrist

“Are you sure?” He asked.

“You heard her the first time. She’s busy.” Tom had walked to stand behind the boy, towering over him with a mean glare.

“Right.” The Gryffindor thickly swallowed, “I’ll be on my way, then.” He scurried off, almost tripping over his robes.

“You didn’t have to scare him off.” Y/N murmured as she spared Tom a look before resuming her walk to the Hufflepuff common room. Tom followed after her, which unsettled Y/N.

She should have been placed in Gryffindor with how brave she was to eventually confront Tom. “What did you do with those Slytherin girls?” She softly inquired.

She heard Tom chuckle. “I didn’t do anything. Trust me.”

“It’s a bit hard to trust you when you smirked at me like that.” Y/N furrowed her eyebrows.

“I never touched those girls. I merely gave them a warning before leaving them. And next thing I know, they were turned to stone. Some Ravenclaw first year found them.”

Y/N stared into Tom’s eyes, looking for any indication that he was lying. It was a bit hard to read him considering he barely had any emotions. But there was a gleam in his usually blank eyes.

“Okay.” She whispered, despite not fully believing him.

Tom had ended up walking Y/N to her common room and she politely nodded. “Good night, Riddle.”

“Call me Tom. Good night, Y/N.”

Rowan, the poor Gryffindor boy who had asked Y/N out, was the next target. Though, he wasn’t found turned to stone. His body was entirely mutilated and Y/N took pity on the third year girl who had discovered his body in the bathroom.

Y/N sat with Bella, pushing her food around on her silver plate. On instinct, she glanced at Tom. He had that same infuriating smirk and this time, he slightly raised his goblet. His actions made his friends laugh.

“I’m leaving for class early. See you at lunch, Bella.”

Her friend hummed, too busy staring at a boy from across the room to notice Y/N’s uneasiness.

Y/N stiffened as she saw Tom stand up out of the corner of her eye. She tried to speed walk away but he easily caught up to her.

“What did you do do him?” She asked, referring to Rowan. He had no enemies and Tom was the only person Y/N could think of. After all, the head boy hadn’t seemed too pleased to see Y/N talking with Rowan.

“Accusing me again? There’s an actual murderer on the loose and instead, you’re pointing fingers at me?” Tom let out a small scoff while Y/N silently stared up at him. “I’m head boy. Do you really think I would decapitate a body?”

“Nobody said anything about the body being decapitated.”

“I saw it. As head boy, I was at the scene.”

Y/N narrowed her eyes while Tom mentally cursed at his mistake. Hufflepuffs were usually easy to gaslight, but not Y/N. And that annoyed Tom.

“They’re still observing the body but I wouldn’t be walking alone if I were you. This attacker seems to be targeting people who are,” Tom took a step closer to Y/N, “All alone.”

Tom cunningly grinned as he shrugged. “Enjoy your walk, Y/N.”

Y/N didn’t want to take any chances with Tom since he was her prime suspect. But if he was the murderer, why wasn’t she his next victim? She was alone and the castle was deserted. Now would be the perfect time.

Tom chuckled as the cogs in Y/N’s head started moving. He was going to strut away from the Hufflepuff but Y/N was quick to grab his sleeve.

“Walk me to class.” She demanded. For the first time in a long time, Tom felt his cheeks heat up. And strange enough, he felt a jolt of lightning pass through his body when Y/N’s grasped him.

He concealed those odd emotions. “With pleasure.”

Potions was their first class. Usually, Gryffindors and Slytherins were put together but this year the school decided to mix it up. Classes were now decided on a student’s academic record. And lucky for Tom, all of his courses were with Y/N. Never had he been so glad that one of his peers had almost beaten him for the spot of top student.

Y/N tried to sit away from Tom but he dragged her to a table near his friends. She nervously sat down, tapping her foot against the floor.

She could feel someone burning holes into her back with their glare and Y/N looked over her shoulder, locking eyes with a Ravenclaw girl. She sneered at Y/N.

The H/C-haired teenager slowly turned her head to look at her textbook, but her peace was short lived when a cauldron came crashing down on her head.

It hit her with such force that her head jolted forward and slammed against the wooden table. A sickening crack was heard and the class went silent.

Tom and his friends were the first to react. Avery lifted Y/N and helped her sit up. Her nose was heavily bleeding and the crimson liquid dribbled down her chin, staining the pages of her new and crisp book.

Malfoy held his hands underneath her chin to catch most of the blood while Avery dapped at Y/N’s nose with the sleeve of his robe.

Rosier grabbed the cauldron, slamming it back down in front of the Ravenclaw. At that very moment, Professor Slughorn entered.

He observed the bizarre scene, effortlessly piecing everything together. “Tom, my boy, please escort Miss L/N to the hospital wing. You may bring Mr Avery and Mr Malfoy with you. Rosier, Mulciber, Nott, Lestrange, I want a full explanation of what happened.” Slughorn turned to the Ravenclaw, “Miss Li, I will also require your explanation.”

Hyehi Li, the girl who had thrown the cauldron at Y/N’s head, was gone. She was found by the Ravenclaw Quidditch up on the roof, impaled onto a sharp spear. The students of Hogwarts were growing restless. Parents wanted to collect their kids but the murderer could be anybody, staff or student. Therefore, it was imperative that the professors worked fast to track the attacker down.

Y/N sat in her dorm, thinking to herself. All of the people attacked were connected to her. The three Slytherin girls had bullied her, Rowan had somewhat flirted with her, and Hyehi had injured Y/N. And Tom was there to witness all three incidents.

There wasn’t anybody else who could be doing these things. Y/N was also aware of Tom’s fascination with the dark arts.

It was Christmas Eve and since the school couldn’t technically hold the students in the castle over the holiday, they had no choice but to let them go.

Y/N’s parents were on a trip right now, so she had to stay behind. Not many students wanted to stay at Hogwarts, but Y/N knew Tom and his posse would be roaming the halls.

She was nervous to walk out of the common room, but she was hungry, even at this time when it was close to midnight, and the kitchen was so close.

“L/N!” A voice Y/N didn’t recognize suddenly called out. She turned around, watching a Slytherin boy jog towards her. She recognized him as a year below her.

“Ah… you shouldn’t be talking to me, it’s not safe.” Y/N had come to the conclusion that any boy or girl who teased or flirted with her was in serious trouble if Tom ever found in.

“Why? I just wanted to say happy Christmas Eve. And thanks for helping me with my homework this year. I don’t know what I would’ve done without you.”

Y/N stiffly smiled and nodded her head. “You’re welcome. Good bye.” Y/N wanted to leave but the boy blocked her path.

“Do you have anybody to celebrate Christmas with? You’re always welcome in the Slytherin common room. Riddle seems to have taken a liking to you.”

Speak of the devil, Y/N could hear Avery’s loud laughs from just around the corner. And where Avery was, Tom and his friends were sure to follow.

Y/N’s eyes slightly widened. “Please leave me alone… for your sake.” She whispered, trying to brush past him. But the boy didn’t seem to sense the urgency in Y/N’s voice as he grabbed her shoulder just as Tom came into sight.

A feeling of dread overcame Y/N as Tom approached the pair. “Onyx.” He greeted the boy by the last name. “What business do you have with Y/N?”

Onyx, as oblivious as ever, smiled. “I was just thanking her for helping me. And I was going to invite her to spend Christmas in the Slytherin chamber.”

Tom narrowed his eyes as he slowly nodded. “… I see. We’ll have to finish decorating the tree then. Come on.” Tom guided Onyx with a firm hand on his back. Y/N’s breath trembled and finally having had enough of being connected to all the murders, she silently followed Tom and his friends and Onyx.

There was a loud bang and as Y/N peeked around the corner, she almost gasped. Avery, the supposed sweet boy who had helped her with her bloody nose, had just knocked Onyx out cold.

“Let’s get this over with quickly. I have some matters to attend to.” Tom pulled out his wand, pointing the tip at Onyx. “Avada Kedavra.” There was a blinding flash of green light and then all was still.

Y/N stumbled back. She quickly sprinted off, making sure to be quiet and not leave anything behind. She burst into the Hufflepuff common room and began to wildly knock on every door.

“Why is no one here?!” She exclaimed, pounding her fist against the wall. “The headmaster and Slughorn are gone too! And Dumbledore- Wait, I can tell Dumbledore!”

She rushed to the exit but crashed into a tall figure. She fell back, hitting her head.

“You didn’t think you would actually get away, did you?” It was just Tom this time. His friends were nowhere to be seen.

Y/N scrambled back but Tom easily outstretched a hand, grabbing her collar and pulling her up. “I got you a gift.” He said, handing Y/N a narrowly wrapped present as soon as the clock struck midnight.

“If it’s part of a body, I don’t want it.”

Tom merely smiled. “Open it and find out.”

Y/N opened the lid a tiny bit, jumping when she saw a pure white snake inside. It hissed and bared it’s sharp fangs at her.

“Sweet dreams, amour.” Tom uttered, stepping forward and knocking the present out of Y/N’s grasp. The box fell and the snake swiftly slithered over to Y/N’s ankle. “I love you.”

He harshly pressed his lips to Y/N’s just as the snake opened its mouth and sank its fangs into her flesh.

“Is this really the best way to do it?” Avery questioned as him and Lestrange pulled a wooden plank from their dorm floor. “We could just hide her dead body in a closet. Though, eventually, her corpse is going to rot and stink.”

Tom, from his position on his bed, tilted his head to the side. “Who said anything about her being dead?”

Nott arched an eyebrow and laughed. “She’s not actually alive, is she? Because stuffing her in there would be cruel.”

“Since when did you care about being cruel?” Tom retorted, “To be honest, I’m not actually sure whether she’s dead or not. I checked her pulse and there was none but her heart is still beating. It’s… strange. And fascinating.”

Tom’s lips curled into a smirk.

Y/N was shoved beneath the floor boards right next to Tom’s bed. He lay down, closing his eyes and listening to the dull thumping beat of Y/N’s heart.

All that happened last year. Y/N’s body was never found and Hogwarts lost a bright student. Tom’s friends could never hear Y/N’s heartbeat but Tom could.

He heard it at night when he was cramming in some late night study.

He heard it when he was kissing another girl in his bed and it reminded him of who his heart belonged to.

He heard it as he descended into a dark madness that not even Dumbledore could stop.

And he heard it as he yelled the very same spell he had yelled at Onyx on that fateful night at Harry Potter. Up in the castle, Y/N’s body still lay shoved deep under.

As Tom Riddle, now known as Voldemort, faded into nothing, he could hear Y/N’s heartbeat get louder and louder and he was reminded of what he had done to the sweet Hufflepuff.

That was her last Christmas and she had spent it under the floor, dead but not fully, never to be found or seen or heard from again.

“Last Christmas, I gave you my heart… but the very next day you stuffed it underneath the floorboards with the rest of my corpse until the sound of my heartbeat intensified your descent into madness.”

[mybutcheredtongue]

I'll Love You 'til the Grass Around My Gravestone is Deceased

post azkaban sirius x fem!reader

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT (see full series list here)

1995

The house is all commotion the next day. Most of the kids wake up late and this sends Mrs Weasley into a tizzy as she hurries from place to place gathering trunks and belongings and throwing them downstairs in front of the door. You place your own trunk in front of the door, scratching Dubh’s ears as she leaps into your arms and digs her claws into your jumper to hold herself against your chest.

Moody stands at the doorway, both hands on his staff as his magical eye swivels from room to room upstairs. He glances at his watch. “Where is Podmore? We can't leave without him, we’ll be one short.” He taps his foot impatiently.

Mrs Weasley looks up the stairway and clears her throat before bellowing, “WILL YOU LOT GET DOWN HERE NOW, PLEASE!”

At once, Walburga Black’s portrait starts screaming and shouting, but no one bothers to close the curtains on her. The noise in the hall will only continue to wake her.

Sirius appears beside you and slips his hand into the back pocket of your jeans, kissing your cheek. “All set?”

You hum, turning to face him. “Hope so. I’m going to miss you so much, you know that?”

He smiles lovingly at you. “I’ll miss you too — I don’t know what I’ll do without you.”

You hum thoughtfully. “Talk to Kreacher a lot more, I guess?” You smile cheekily at him.

He scoffs, rolling his eyes. “Don’t even joke about that, it would be hell.”

Ron, Harry, and Hermione come hurrying down the stairs, their footsteps drowned out by Walburga Black’s screeches.

“Harry, you're to come with me and Molly,” you yell at Harry over your mother-in-law's portrait.

“Leave your trunk and your owl, Alastor’s going to deal with the luggage,” Mrs Weasley explains. “...Oh, for heaven's sake, Sirius, Dumbledore said no!”

Sirius’ hand leaves your pocket and he turns into his dog form, following you as you clamber over the trunks.

“Oh, honestly…” Mrs Weasley says despairingly, “well, on your own head be it!”

She wrenches open the front door and you step out into the morning sunlight, followed by Harry and Sirius. You descend the front steps of number 12 and they vanish the moment you reach the pavement.

You glance at your watch. “We’d better hurry up, Molly.”

“I know, I know,” she groans, lengthening her stride, “but Mad-Eye wanted us to wait for Sturgis…if only Arthur could have got us cars from the Ministry again…but Fudge wouldn’t let him borrow so much as an empty ink bottle these days…How Muggles can stand travelling without magic…”

Sirius, on the other hand, seems delighted. He gives a joyful bark and runs around you, snapping at pigeons and chasing his own tail. Harry laughs and you can’t help but smile. He’s been trapped inside for far too long.

Mrs Weasley purses her lips disapprovingly.

Dubh keeps her gaze laser-focused on the dog, watching him closely and swishing her tail agitatedly when he comes too close, digging her claws tighter into the fabric of your jumper.

On platform nine and three quarters, students and families bustle from place to place carrying their heavy trunks, owls hooting from their cages.

“I hope the others make it in time,” Mrs Weasley says anxiously, staring behind her at the arch through which new arrivals come.

“Nice dog, Harry!” calls Lee Jordan, waving at Harry.

“Thanks, Lee,” says Harry, grinning, as Sirius wags his tail frantically.

“Oh, good,” Mrs Weasley says with a sigh of relief, “here’s Alastor with the luggage, look…”

With a cap pulled low over his eyes, Moody limps through the archway pushing a cart full of trunks.

“All okay,” he mutters to you. “Don’t think we were followed…”

Seconds later, Mr Weasley emerges onto the platform with Ron and Hermione. You start to help unloading the trunks from the cart and nearly have them all off when Remus turns up with Ginny and the twins.

“No trouble?” growls Moody.

“Nothing,” Remus replies, dusting off the front of his jacket.

“I’ll still be reporting Sturgis to Dumbledore,” Moody says lowly. “That’s the second time he’s not turned up in a week. Getting as unreliable as Mundungus.”

“Well, look after yourselves,” Remus says, shaking hands all round.

You beam at him when he reaches you and pull him in for a tight hug, laughing. “See ya, Moony.”

“Keep your head down and your eyes peeled,” Moody says to Harry, shaking Harry’s hand too. “And don’t forget, all of you — careful what you put in writing. If in doubt, don’t put it in a letter at all.”

“If you need to pass anything on, tell me,” you say as the warning whistle for the train sounds and the students still on the platform start to hurry onto the train. Sirius nudges your hand with his head and you gently scratch the top of his head, smiling. “I’ll see you soon.”

“Quick, quick,” says Mrs Weasley distractedly, hugging everyone at random. “Write…be good…if you’ve forgotten anything we’ll send it on…onto the train now, hurry…”

Bewitching your trunk to fly in the air behind you, you hurry onto the train and make your way past the throes of students greeting you in the corridor, down to your usual compartment in the prefects’ carriage. You set Dubh down on the seat beside you and as you sit down, you feel something in your back pocket and curious, you pull out a slip of parchment and unfold it.

I love you

Tell Snape he looks like a gargoyle

You chuckle appreciatively, putting the paper back in your pocket and feeling your heart warm.

♡*⁠。♡*⁠。

February, 1977

“Transfiguring something of a larger stature, however, can prove to be more difficult,” Professor McGonagall says, the chalk in her fingers scratching against the blackboard as she writes instructions. “It takes a lot more concentration and practice, so I suggest you use your free time wisely and —”

Sirius sighs in boredom, eyes skimming around the room until he finds the person he's looking for. Across the room, sitting as far away from James as possible, is Lily, and right beside her, you.

You lean over to whisper something to Lily, who chuckles, and Sirius finds himself following your every movement, tracing the line of your jaw with his eyes, the curve of your neck, the way you're swinging your legs under the chair absent-mindedly…

“And then, you put the charm on the ties and I'll keep look-out — hey!”

James slaps Sirius across the back of his head angrily.

“Ow! What was that for?!”

“You're not even listening!”

Sirius snaps out of his daze and looks back at his best friend’s angry face, scrunched up beneath his circular glasses.

“Sorry, Prongs, what were you saying?”

James scoffs, folding his arms dramatically. “You were staring at her again, weren't you?” He makes a noise with his mouth like the cracking of a whip, rolling his eyes. “Pathetic.”

“In my defense, she is very pretty — “

“I don't want to hear it!” James snaps. “Y’know, I liked you better before you got a girlfriend. You were more fun.”

“Oh, shut up, James — you're just jealous ‘cause Lily would rather go out with a toad than with you — “

“That's not true — !”

Someone clears their throat loudly and the boys look up to find McGonagall glaring at them from behind her spectacles, clearly unimpressed.

“Yes, Potter, Black — we’ll all just wait for you to finish your very important conversation and then I can get back to teaching.”

Quiet sniggers ripple through the room. Lily rolls her eyes as her best friend giggles.

“Sirius was distracting me, miss —”

“James won't stop talking —”

“Enough.” Professor McGonagall pinches the bridge of her nose in exasperation. “Pay attention or it's detention for the both of you.”

“Yes, miss.”

♡*⁠。♡*⁠。

“Well, now that we are all digesting another magnificent feast, I beg a few moments of your attention for the usual start-of-term notices,” says Dumbledore after he gets to feet for his start-of-year speech. “First years ought to know that the forest in the grounds is out of bounds to students — and a few of our older students ought to know by now too.”

You glance down the Great Hall, skimming your eyes around at all your students.

“Mr. Filch, the caretaker, has asked me, for what he tells me is the four hundred and sixty-second time, to remind you all that magic is not permitted in corridors between classes, nor are a number of other things, all of which can be checked on the extensive list now fastened to Mr. Filch’s office door. We have had two changes in staffing this year. We are very pleased to welcome back Professor Grubbly-Plank, who will be taking Care of Magical Creatures lessons; we are also delighted to introduce Professor Umbridge, our new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher.”

There is a round of polite applause. You crane your neck to look at the new hire of Professor Umbridge: a small woman wearing a fluffy pink cardigan with mousy brown hair and a pair of small, beady eyes. She has her lips pursed and her hands folded in on the table as she looks out at the student body.

“Tryouts for the House Quidditch teams will take place on the —”

“Ahem.”

Dumbledore breaks off and looks surprisingly at Professor Umbridge, who has gotten to her feet (though it is hard to tell the difference between her height while standing and while sitting), and clearly wants to make a speech.

Minerva glances at you for half a second, her mouth a thin, disapproving line as she turns back to focus her attention on Umbridge.

Her interruption irks you — no one has ever interrupted Dumbledore in the middle of his speech before. It feels quite disrespectful, though Dumbledore doesn't seem to mind as he sits down and gives Umbridge his utmost attention.

“Thank you, Headmaster,” she starts, her voice sickeningly squeaky, “for those kind words of welcome.”

She clears her throat again, that same little ‘ahem’. “Well, it is lovely to be back at Hogwarts, I must say! And to see such happy little faces smiling back at me!”

You raise your eyebrows, noticing how the faces looking back at Umbridge seem quite far from happy — they actually look highly affronted at the childish tone that she has taken on.

“I am very much looking forward to getting to know you all, and I'm sure we’ll be very good friends!”

Nobody seems too keen on that idea.

She clears her throat again, but this time her tone becomes more business-like and official. “The Ministry of Magic has always considered the education of young witches and wizards to be of vital importance. The rare gifts with which you were born may come to nothing if not nurtured and honed by careful instruction. The ancient skills unique to the Wizarding community must be passed down through the generations lest we lose them forever. The treasure trove of magical knowledge amassed by our ancestors must be guarded, replenished, and polished by those who have been called to the noble profession of teaching.”

She clears her throat again and Minerva’s face tightens as she exchanges a glance with you, her distaste clear on her face.

“Every headmaster and headmistress of Hogwarts has brought something new to the weighty task of governing this historic school, and that is as it should be, for without progress there will be stagnation and decay. Then again, progress for progress’s sake must be discouraged, for our tried and tested traditions often require no tinkering. A balance, then, between old and new, between permanence and change, between tradition and innovation…because some changes will be for the better, while others will come, in the fullness of time, to be recognised as errors of judgment. Meanwhile, some old habits will be retained, and rightly so, whereas others, outmoded and outworn, must be abandoned. Let us move forward, then, into a new era of openness, effectiveness, and accountability, intent on preserving what ought to be preserved, perfecting what needs to be perfected, and pruning wherever we find practices that ought to be prohibited.”

Finally, she sits down, looking expectantly at her audience. Dumbledore claps. You and the rest of the staff start to join in, though you bring your hands together once, maybe twice, before stopping completely.

“Thank you very much, Professor Umbridge, that was most illuminating,” Dumbledore says as he stands, bowing to her. “Now, as I was saying — Quidditch tryouts will be held…”

“I suspect we’ll be having an interesting year with her here,” you say to Minerva in a low voice, moving your lips as subtly as possible while keeping your eyes on Dumbledore.

A breath of air whistles out of her nose. “Interesting indeed. The Ministry loves to poke their nose into things.”

You hum in agreement. “You can say that again.”

⁠✧⁠*⁠。✧⁠*⁠。

“Now as you all know, next June you will be sitting your O.W.L. examinations,” you say, leaning against your desk and flicking your gaze from student to student in your classroom. “They are, of course, important — failing certain classes may mean you are unable to continue those classes at N.E.W.T. level next year — but they are nothing to get stressed about. Study well and do your best and you will be absolutely fine, there is no need to panic. Exams are not the be-all and end-all.”

Hermione’s brow furrows as though this notion is completely inconceivable to her. You notice the way she has her parchment neatly laid out on her desk at the ready, her book perched at the top, and her quills perfectly aligned with each other beside it.

Beside her, however, Ron and Harry have absolutely nothing on their desks.

“Those who are interested in taking N.E.W.T. level Astronomy in sixth year, I accept anyone with at least a passing grade in my class. I must warn you, though, that the work and curriculum is increasingly hard and quite a jump from O.W.L. level.”

The students look quite bored.

“I'm guessing you've heard all that before?”

There is scattered murmurs of agreements and nodding.

You sigh. “I’ll be honest with you all — you will be sick and tired of hearing about those exams in no time. Have your classes been hard so far?”

They glance at each other, and you hear Dean Thomas snort and mutter to Seamus Finnegan, “Not Defense Against the Dark Arts, anyway.”

Your ears prick up at this and you raise your eyebrows. “Not in Defense Against the Dark Arts?”

“Professor Umbridge refuses to let us use defensive spells in class,” Hermione says, frowning.

“What?”

“She's only teaching us theory,” Harry confirms, scowling. “We don't even get to practice the ones we need for the exam.”

“And she called Professor Lupin an ‘extremely dangerous half-breed!” Dean pops up angrily.

This seems to set off the rest of the class, and all at once they start voicing their complaints with vigour.

“What's the point of having a Defense Against the Dark Arts class if we’re not even learning how to defend ourselves in it?”

“You can't learn spells just by reading about them!”

“She's not even a real teacher —”

You wait patiently until everyone has let out their anger before you take a deep breath.

“That’s…ridiculous.”

You pick up your textbook, thumbing through it absent-mindedly as you think of what to say next. “But…if this is what your teacher wants you to do, I should tell you to listen to her.”

Uproar, again — and you hold up an authoritative hand to quiet your agitated students.

“I will tell you to listen to her, but that's not to say you're definitely going to listen to me,” you say with a shrug of your shoulders. “You should listen to me, but not everyone likes to follow the rules…I will tell you not to practice these defensive spells in the privacy of your own dorms because Professor Umbridge does not want you to be performing these spells at all. I will also tell you not to be so open in complaining of your new teacher — you will get into trouble.”

You sigh dramatically, flipping the pages of your book to the first chapter as the students pass mischievous glanced around at each other. “Now, let's get started, shall we?”

⁠After a long day of classes, back-to-school paperwork, and meetings, you relax into your comfy armchair in your office, listening as Minerva talks about how her week went. Your mug of hot tea warms your hands as the typical Scottish rain patters against the castle windows, and Dubh sleeps contentedly on a stack of papers lying haphazardly on your desk.

“I don’t trust that Dolores Umbridge,” Minerva says with a tight-lipped frown. “She sent Potter to my office on Tuesday, for running his mouth.”

You hum. “About her theory-only classes? Yes, I heard several complaints already.”

“Not just about that,” she says. “He told her He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named was back, which did not go down well, of course.”

“Like talking to a brick wall, I’d say.”

She clicks her tongue disapprovingly. “He’d do well to keep his head down and out of sight after her speech at the start-of-term feast…” She casts a glance at you from behind her spectacles. “As would you.”

You laugh humourlessly. “Believe me, I am. I’ve been avoiding that woman like the plague — thankfully she’s easy to spot from a mile away with those horrible cardigans.”

As though she doesn’t mean to, Minerva lets out a cat-like giggle, before clearing her throat and regaining her composure.

You smile knowingly at her over the rim of your cup, resisting the urge to laugh.

She yawns, adjusting herself in her seat. “I suppose I best be off, I have a few essays to grade for tomorrow…”

She sets her cup down on the table, standing up. “Thank you.”

“My pleasure,” you answer honestly, smiling at her. “Night, Minnie.”

She opens the door to leave. “Goodnight.”

You've never liked that Dolores Umbridge, not since she drafted some anti-werewolf legislation a few years ago that made it impossible for Remus to find a job. You remember the stress it gave Remus, he had very little money and was reluctant to accept any help from you — despite the large sum of gold sitting in your bank, practically untouched.

When you settle down to sleep that night, your mind turns to Sirius: alone in Grimmauld Place, listening to the screams and screeches of his mother’s portrait. The moment you got on the Hogwarts Express you regretted letting him persuade you to come back to school and leaving him, right after you had just found him.

As if she senses your worry, Dubh pads along your covers before settling into the bed beside your chest, purring contentedly and bringing you significant comfort just by being there.

⁠✧⁠*⁠。✧⁠*⁠。

The next morning you wake for breakfast, sitting as far away from Dolores Umbridge as possible, making absolutely sure to avoid all eye contact with the woman. The last thing you need is a Ministry mole rooting around your business when you are technically harbouring a fugitive in your house.

While you poke and prod at your breakfast, thinking about nothing in particular, owls begin to filter in through the windows bearing the morning’s post. A barn owl makes it way over to you and drops off your usual delivery of the Daily Prophet.

“You’re still reading that?” Minerva asks in surprise as you tuck a few coins into the small sack tied to the owl’s leg as payment.

You hum, undoing the twine wrapped around the paper. “Good to know what the enemy is putting out there, right?” As you unfold the newspaper, your heart drops and you let out a small gasp.

“What is it?” Minerva asks, and you wordlessly hold the paper between you so you can both read the headline article.

BLACK SPOTTED IN LONDON

The Ministry of Magic has received a tip-off from a reliable source that Sirius Black, notorious mass murderer who killed thirteen people, is currently hiding in London. The Ministry warns the wizarding community that Black is very dangerous and to be vigilant. Anyone with information of his whereabouts must come forward and alert the Ministry immediately.

You look up at Minerva, feeling dread sink down through your body.

“I knew he shouldn’t have came with us,” you whisper, swallowing thickly.

Minerva looks at the article again, her mouth thin. “He will just have to stay in the house from now on.”

You frown. “It’ll kill him.” You glance down the table at Dumbledore, currently talking to Professor Flitwick animatedly. “Maybe I can ask Dumbledore if I can go home, just for the weekend — I can’t bear the thought of him alone —”

Minerva looks at you sharply, her expression serious.

“And how do you think that will look to Umbridge? Sirius Black’s wife leaving without any explanation the weekend after he is spotted in London?”

“I’ll just say I’m going to my parents’ or something, I don’t know —”

“They will not believe you,” she hisses. “They have never believed you before, they will not believe you now. Do you wish to end up in Azkaban?”

You look back at her, biting your lip before breathing a long, defeated sigh. 

Minerva gently pulls the newspaper from your grip, flicking through the pages with mild interest. You push your plate away from you, feeling nauseous and without any appetite. Why didn’t you push more for him to stay at the house that day? You were selfish, letting him come with you because you wanted to drag out your time with him as much as possible and putting him in danger. Where is Kingsley, he’s supposed to be staying on top of this, feeding the Ministry fake information and keeping Sirius out of the headlines. 

⁠✧⁠*⁠。✧⁠*⁠。

->-> read chapter twenty-nine here!

-> all kinds of interaction appreciated ♡

hi everyone, im really sorry for the huge wait!! I know how annoying it can be sometimes to have to wait long periods of time for a writer to post the next chapter, so I really am sorry for that :( I honestly don't really have an excuse, other than writer's block and a busy schedule. You all are the absolute best for your constant patience and support, i love everyone sm <3 Kisses!

a really huge thank you to my taglist loves ♡ :

@mothraantics @wholelottalove05 @izuoyarmin @devoid-swanky @carpe000diem @mooonyxoxo @hyperspeedo @idkman5335 @elanna-elrondiel @murielisacertifieddilf @penelopied @imgondeletedis @wooyoungsrightsock @jennifer0305 @wolfdragon0424 @lovemesomevesey

[mysticmoaning]

Tension II - rab

Description:

Regulus decides to apologise and you accept in a very gracious way.

Warnings:

Big angst / Use of 'mudblood' / Fingers in V / V Penetration / Virgin!Regulus

A/N:

This is not what I originally planned for this part two, but I guess that can be expected after such a long time between, sorry!!! I hope you enjoy the Big Feelings, Sad Boi Regulus, and Virgin!Regulus. Sorry about the ending, I want to keep this going cause I have some ideas and it was necessary unfortunately.

After your experience on the train, Regulus had become all but non-existent in your life. Your meeting with the muggle-born first years (where he gritted out the speech he left you to write and practically spat on the new wizard and witches' abilities) was the last time you'd seen him, save for the occasional glimpse around Hogwarts.

Whatever. You had better things to do than fool around with such a close-minded prick like him. No matter that the feeling of your own fingers had become a shadow compared to the memory of his scissoring inside you. Fuck...

Stop. You'd get over him eventually. It's not like you liked him, you just...no.

You tried to focus on detangling the knots in your hair as you yanked it out of its bun, wincing at your accidental aggressiveness. It was just your luck that you'd had a quidditch match today. Regulus had been wearing those tight pants under his quidditch robes and your thoughts had drifted towards how difficult it would be to slip your hand down them, costing you a goal.

Lost in the memory, you didn't hear the footsteps until whoever was right behind you. You jumped, having stayed late to have the place to yourself and wondering who the hell had come to disturb you. At the sight of Regulus, you gasped.

"What are you doing here?" You snapped.

He looked ghostly pale, his damp hair combed back and beginning to curl. Noticing his uniform, you realised you were in your bra and underwear, believing everyone to have vacated the showers.

Good. Maybe you could make him squirm.

His eyes flickered down your body before resting on the floor, his cheeks quickly growing red. He shoved his hands in his pants pockets and you smirked in understanding as to why. Well, he couldn't deny his attraction to you.

"Why the nerves, Black? Thought you hated me..." You turned to put your brush down on the bench beside you, head quickly swivelling back when you heard him mumble something under his breath. "What?"

He glanced up, eyes catching on your lacy bra before meeting yours. A muscle in his jaw twitched.

"I said, I don't hate you."

You stared in disbelief. What was he on about?

"Merlin, you had me fooled." You stood, taking a step towards him with your hands on your hips. "Pushing me away as soon as your fingers left my pussy," his adam's apple bobbed nervously and he glanced away, "Then ignoring me for the past two weeks like nothing even happened. And don't think I didn't understand your nastiness with the muggle-born first years being meant for me."

He looked at you then, eyes flicking between your own. His lips parted and then closed. A pink flash of tongue wet them, the fresh shine giving you thoughts of other ways he could use them.

Fuck, why was it so hard to be around him?

He sighed deeply, ran a hand through his hair, and then sat defeatedly on the bench behind him. You nearly asked if he was alright but held your ground.

"I-" He glanced at you before fixing his gaze on the tile, apparently the only way he could say whatever it was that was bothering him. "I don't hate you. And....and I'm sorry."

You stared at him hard, in shock. Had a Black ever said sorry in their lifetime? Sitting back down was the only response you could muster.

The corner of his mouth quirked like he understood your confusion before quickly resuming its downward position. The wrinkles already forming on either side made it clear he was used to the expression.

"Listen, I...I was embarrassed." He glanced at you quickly before looking away. "I'm....I've never...I had never..."

"You're a virgin?" The words left your mouth before you could stop them. He gave an almost imperceptible nod. What were you hearing right now? You had your suspicions but never in a million years did you think them to be true. Just looking at him, you couldn't process that no one had tried to get close enough to him to get him into bed.

Flashing back over the memory from the train, certain things began to jump out at you. His nervousness. How he thought you were in pain when you threw your head back in pleasure. The way he groaned into your shoulder when you....

"Holy shit, you came!" You didn't mean to practically yell it, your hand flying over your mouth.

His eyes were round saucers as he stared at you, cheeks growing impossibly red.

"Y/N, please..." The shine in his eyes made you freeze. "Please don't tell anyone."

You moved to sit beside him.

"Regulus, why would I tell anyone?" His head was in his hands now. He glanced over at you.

"What do you want?" You furrowed your brow in confusion. He studied your face for a moment. "You're not going to tell..." You shook your head, "So what do you want in return?"

"What?" You couldn't understand his thought process for a moment. Then it clicked. Everyone in his life always wanted something in return for treating him with decency. Nothing came free for him...

You had always been conflicted about Regulus. A shitty family can't totally excuse bad behaviour, but this...Merlin, fitting in with his family was about survival. Sirius had gotten out, sure, but you'd never heard anything about him trying to help Regulus. His only connection to a better, less hateful world had left him behind.

"Regulus," You slide your fingers into his, pulling his hand away from his face and into your lap. He looked at you and then away, obviously waiting for the other shoe to drop. "I don't want anything from you. I'm not going to tell anyone because that's our private business and no one else deserves to know. That's the least you deserve."

He glanced back at you, eyes flickering over the details of your face. His lips silently mimed 'our' and the corners of his mouth started to curve upwards.

You couldn't help it, all the tension from the past two weeks, the anger, and this loaded conversation, wore down your resolve. Plus, you were beginning to think maybe you didn't hate Regulus after all.

You kissed him, his lips just as soft and welcoming as on the train. He involuntarily moaned into your mouth and you smiled.

His fingers, impossibly gentle, ghosted over your exposed thigh. You angled yourself towards him and moved his hand around to your hip. He pulled away with a soft gasp, eyes searching your face.

"I don't know..."

You paused immediately, gripping his hand in yours and holding it chastely away from your body.

"We don't have to do anything, Reg. I want you to be comfortable."

He shook his head quickly, a smile like sunshine lighting his face and making your stomach flip. "No, I want to. Merlin, do I want to..." His thick brows knitted a cloud that cast a shadow over his face. "It's just...since I've never...I don't know how long I'm going to last. I mean, you didn't even touch me last time and..."

He looked to you shyly.

"Hey," You moved his hand back to your hip and his eyes tracked the movement, darkening as his skin made contact with the plump flesh just briefly covered by the band of your underwear. "We all have to start somewhere."

This time, he leaned in to connect your lips. You revelled in this subtle show of confidence and the way he flicked his tongue against yours.

"You're so beautiful," He whispered against your lips, his fingers teasing the edges of your underwear. "I've always thought so."

You pulled away enough to look into his eyes, realising suddenly that they were the deepest of blues, not black like you thought. He stared back, a nervous smile on his lips.

You studied his face. His lashes were thick like his brows, black and shadowy around his eyes. He had pinprick freckles over his nose and on the highest points of his cheeks. The bow of his lips was so perfectly formed you couldn't help but lean in to kiss him again.

He kissed back, more firmly this time. You felt the heat too, the urgency that was beginning to rise between you. His fingers dug into your hip and you sighed into his mouth in response. He took this as a good sign, moving his hand around to palm at your ass. You put your hand over his and squeezed so he'd grab you, not giving him the time to question as you slung one leg over his to straddle him.

He stared at you in awe and you felt the bulge in his pants harden further. You held his face in your hands, fingers spread over his cheeks, and ground your hips into him. His eyes rolled back with his head as he groaned out at the feeling.

"Is this okay?" You confirmed and his hands flew to your hips, gripping tightly.

"Merlin, yes," He just managed to slit his eyes to look at you, pupils blown so you could hardly see the rim of blue around them. You smirked down at him, keeping your eyes locked on his as you began to unzip his pants and pull him out of his boxers. He cursed as you gripped him in your hand, gently beginning to stroke him. "Fuck, I don't know that I'm even going to make it inside you, Y/N."

You laughed as he quirked his lips, smiling apologetically.

Deciding not to tease him any further, you slipped your underwear to the side and ran the head of his cock quickly through your dripping folds. Regulus cried out at the feeling but you swallowed the sound with your mouth, kissing him as you slowly lowered yourself onto him.

You moaned as his considerable girth stretched you out, his own sounds of pleasure already signalling that he was close. Rocking slowly against his hips, you focused on the friction of your clit rubbing against him. He gripped your hips so hard you were sure he'd leave bruises and you knew he was using all of his self control not to cum.

You quickened your pace and he gasped into your mouth. Pulling away, you moved your lips to his ear, giving a soft bite to shell of it. He groaned and his hands moved down to your thighs, still holding on like his life depended on it.

"Let go, Reg. I wanna hear how good it feels." You whispered into his ear. The flutter of your breath on his neck and the words you spoke sent him quickly careening over the edge.

"Fuck, Y/N!" He cried out, his head thrown back as his cock twitched inside of you with each thick stream of cum. You kissed along his exposed neck, slowing your movements as his quick, heavy breaths began to calm.

When he was nearly recovered, he raised his head to look at you, his cheeks flushed. He moved his hand between your bodies and rubbed his thumb over your clit, making you gasp.

"Shit, Reg, you don't-" He caught your lips in his, bucking his hips up gently as he rubbed generous circles on your clit. You moaned into him, his still-hard cock thrusting into you making the fire that already burned in your belly begin to spread.

He started to kiss your exposed chest, sucking at the skin of your breasts. When he began to soften inside you, he quickly replaced himself with the fingers of his other hand, working them faster until you were a cursing mess on top of him.

Momentarily abandoning your clit, he used his free hand to pull down half your bra, latching onto the exposed nipple with his tongue and bringing you to your breaking point.

You cried out his name as you rocked through your orgasm, falling onto him and trying to regain your breath once the waves of pleasure passed.

Finally, you pulled yourself up to look Regulus in the eyes. He smiled softly, cheeks still pink in pleasure.

His brows rose slightly, lips parting to expose a sliver of his perfect, white teeth. You moved off him and he quickly zipped himself up while you fixed your bra.

"So..." He began, nervous once again, his fingers playing with the sleeve of his sweater. "This doesn't mean anything, right?"

You stared at him in disbelief. What? His features began to darken, his eyes trained on the floor again.

"I can't...." He swallowed. "I can't be anything to you. I mean, my parents can't know. No one can know..." He trailed off softly.

"What?" You were growing angry. What did that mean? "God, Regulus, seriously? Since I'm not some close-minded, pureblood scumbag you can't be associated with me? Fuck off."

He stood quickly and moved towards you while you hurried to get dressed.

"Y/N, I can't. You don't understand-"

"I don't understand?"

"No, I've got...responsibilities. You don't-"

He cut himself off with a gasp as you stepped to him and yanked up his sleeve, revealing the offensive black ink branded into his skin. "What don't I understand, Regulus? I think it's perfectly clear. I don't fit into your tiny, fucked up world. You can't play the perfect Death Eater for mommy and daddy and fuck a dirty mudblood at the same time. Does that about sum it up?"

You stormed out before he could answer, ignoring the pain in your chest and the tears beginning to spill over onto your cheeks.

[m-ilkiee]

I think the problem with most 18-21 year olds on this site is that everyone wants to be contrarian to be relevant, but they don't know how to constructively criticize the media they engage with while also appreciating the work that is already out here because they've never put in the work in writing a piece of article.

To put it simply; you have a whole lot to say about what people write and how you may find even the mildest of things repulsive, yet you've never ever in your life written and/or published anything and you lack the skills to critically engage with any written work. This goes beyond fanfiction.

How many of you actually read books in your free time? How many of you journal or attempt to write something? How many of you think for yourselves?

Perhaps, the reason that I rarely complain about how people write their characters is because I read so wide as a child and no matter how vastly different a character is from me, I learned the skill of viewing from the lens of the character. It takes a great amount of intelligence to try and see things from a character's persepective and to view that character as a tool to drive the story forward, rather than my own perspective and honestly it makes it more enjoyable. I didn't gain it naturally, I was taught by my literary teachers and people older than me who also read a lot.

Lastly, I've read so much that I know when to stop reading something I don't enjoy and go for things I do. It's clear it's a lesson everyone else needs to learn instead of complaining about a hobby writers do here for free.

[warnersister]

Tom Riddle x Reader

Tom Riddle x Pregnant! Reader

Warnings + Summary: Tom being a nicer version of Tom, old fashioned views, non-con pregnancy, teen pregnancy, arranged marriages, dom / sub dynamic, controlling / possessive Tom, toxic Tom

Fucked. That’s the only word you could use to describe the situation you were in - you were totally and utterly fucked. Whatever were you going to do? You paced back and forth in your dormitory as the thoughts and questions weaved and wrapped around the many veins of your brain which were now becoming apparent to you that they were useless in their entirety. How could you be so stupid? So reckless? You bit your nails anxiously - walking in your room for a good twenty minutes still unable to come to an educated conclusion.

You were pregnant and you had no fucking clue about what to do about it.

You’re a seventh year, potentially your most significant point of wizarding school. But you’re seventeen, a year off of being an adult. And unmarried adult - what would your parents think? A child outside of wedlock would be blasphemous! They’d disown you! And Tom - oh Merlin, what about Tom?

You and Tom had a rocky relationship as it is. He’s too domineering and charming and you’re too conforming and feisty to say no go him. It was like cat and mouse if the mouse laid down in the cats dinner plate and handed it cutlery. Tom rules your life by his own means and you felt it was okay to let him, after all what harm could come by it?

This. This harm. Tom had told you of his plans to rule the wizarding world and you had just nodded along, not thinking anything of it. But a child? He’d kill if! He’d kill you. You were going to die. Oh dear god you’ll be dead my morning if you told him.

“Hey- hey! Are you alright?” Your dorm mate asked. You hadn’t even heard her enter your shared room, but as soon as you heard her soothing and concerned tone you broke down into her arms crying. “I’m pregnant, Darla.” You told her between sobs and she reassured you as he caressed your back gently. “Is it Riddles?” She asks when your tears dry and you nod into her shoulder. “He’s no father. He’s hardly a partner. I allow him to control me but there is no way I’d allow him anywhere near a baby, regardless of whether or not it was his.” You say, angrily. “And I’m guessing he is unaware?” She asked and you nod. “Only just found out.” She understood but explained to you how you’d have to tell him. It was ethically and morally correct to inform the father of a child of his position and future.

You’d avoided Tom and his ominous stares for a few days now. But you could feel his eyes baring into your skull, reading your mind. You knew he was eyeing you and your untouched plate of food at breakfast and unusual concoctions that were boarder line criminal at dinner. You knew you were unable to avoid him forever, after all he had made it clear that he was in charge.

“Just what do you think you’re doing?” A voice asked, pushing you against the cold stone wall of an empty corridor. You looked into those death grey eyes and said nothing, attempting to wriggle out of his hold. “Stay still. Don’t you dare try to run away from me.” He threatened. “Fuck off, Tom.” You say, fighting back and you could’ve sworn he’d given you a shocked smirk. “Excuse me? Who do you think you’re talking to? Need I remind you that I own you, princess.” He hissed into your ear as he leans down to your height.

Tears begin to form in your eyes and he surveys your face without any changing emotion. “Talk to me. Now.” You inhaled deeply before glancing between the floor and his eyes. “I’m pregnant.” You say, voice barely above a whisper and it feels as if the world stops - you are shaking, body shutting down as it prepares for all the ungodly torturous and murderous spells you had seen him unleash on his other victims, it was only a matter of time until you became one, also.

Yet he smiled. Thomas Marvolo Riddle smiled. Something you had never seen before. Everything was going according to plan, he thought. He’d spent many sunrises and sunsets trying to convince you to be by his side while he brought his fascist views into this land and ruled all by any means necessary. Your reluctance was infuriating, to say the least and he had found the only plausible solution was to impregnate you with his offspring. Afterall, a poor defenceless girl like yourself needed protecting. Now with a foetus in your womb? He’d put you in lockdown, a dungeon, a high tower with no doors. He would make you his queen whether you would give him your hand or he’d have to cut it off and take it by force.

“Tom, why are you smiling?” You ask yet his expression didn’t drop. “Don’t you see? Silly girl. This baby is what we needed. Just you, I and our child. We shall bring uprising to the world with you by my side and a child on your hip. We shall be indestructible.” You thought for a minute before the cogs ticked into place. “You did this on purpose.” You spoke breathlessly, lurching away from him in disgust.

“Now, now. That is no way to speak to your future husband. You will learn your place the easy way or the hard way.” He’d even spoken to your parents of whom had a strong pureblood line since Merlin’s time and they were more than happy to offer your hand. “Come along now, you must plan the wedding and pick out baby items - I shall plan our takeover.” And with a flick of his wand, you were out cold on the floor, easy to pick up your sleeping figure and take you back go his chambers, where you would stay.

[superpowereddonut]

Sirius Black x Reader

This came to me in a dream and I had to write it down! I've never posted any of my own works anywhere, but figured it's a short little one-shot that I may as well put out there even if no one ever reads it! If I feel inspired I might turn this into a proper fic, but idk yet.

Pairing: Sirius Black x Female!Reader (No use of Y/N)

A/N: set at Hogwarts, fake dating trope

Warnings: Swearing, Sirius isn't gay (even though Wolfstar is obviously canon lol)

Word count: 1401

*****

Barely catching her breath enough to mutter the password, the Gryffindor girl rushed into the common room, all windswept hair, flushed cheeks and wide eyes. She spotted the Marauders all lounging by the fire (except Peter - he was always off snogging Dorcus in a closet these days) and made a beeline straight for them. Remus was squashed awkwardly in an armchair, a book open against his long legs where they were draped over one arm and his back resting against the other. James was sitting up on one end of the adjacent couch, his transfiguration homework in his lap, with Sirius sprawled at the other end, legs stretched out in front of him, head tipped back and eyes closed, listening to the music emanating from the record player nearby.

She felt a twinge of regret when the cosy atmosphere broke as she stormed over, her gaze flicking over each of them before settling on Sirius, who had cracked an eye open to look at her, now standing on the carpet in front of the fire.

“Black, I need you to be my boyfriend.”

James and Remus both snapped their heads up at that, and Sirius’ eyebrows rose. “Excuse me?”

“Lucas Davis just asked me out again!” The three boys in front of her seemed to let out a simultaneous groan. They were almost as sick as she was of Davis, the irritating Gryffindor two years above them who had been hellbent on wooing her for almost four months now. Unlike James, who had been smitten with Lily since they were eleven and asked her out at least once a week, Davis was aggressive - cornering her in half-empty hallways only to speak over her, invading her personal space whenever he got the chance, and making creepy sexual innuendos anytime a teacher was out of ear-shot. At this point it didn’t even seem to be about her. He just liked the chase and enjoyed making girls squirm. Even girls who hated his guts.

“Just tell him to piss off”, James suggested with a shrug

“Oh jeez, thanks James! Why didn’t I think of that?” She rolled her eyes, “I’ve told him to piss off a hundred times, in a hundred different ways! But he’s relentless- convinced I’m playing ‘hard to get’ or some bullshit like that. The only thing I think would actually get the misogynistic bastard to leave me alone is if he thinks I’m already seeing someone. So,” she said, turning again to Sirius, “can you just pretend to be my boyfriend, Black?”

“Why me? Ask Remus - you two already spend all your time together, surely dating isn’t that much of a stretch!” She shook her head impatiently, “He’s gayer than Bowie and everyone knows it!”. The boy in question huffed a laugh, “Cheers, love.” She ignored him.

“Get James to do it then!” Sirius exclaimed, and the messy-haired boy next to him opened his mouth, sitting up straighter. He probably would do it, she thought, because he would do just about anything for his friends. The noble idiot.  “Oh please, you think anyone would believe that this lovesick fool has moved on from Lily?” She retorted, making a vague gesture towards James, who just grinned ruefully and relaxed back into his seat, nodding his head in agreement.

“And you think anyone would believe we are a couple?” She paused for a second, unsure of how to answer. Although she and Sirius had always been… sort of… friends, it was largely only because of her friendship with the other Marauders - mainly studying with Remus and playing quidditch with James. While they inevitably spent a lot of time together due to their mutual friends, it was true that they were at each other’s throats more often than not, she supposed. Remus was complaining just last week about their constant bickering and their incessant need to outcompete each other in every little thing. 

She was saved from answering by James. “Actually, a Ravenclaw in our charms class - you know, Macmillan? - asked me if you two were dating a couple of weeks ago.” 

They both turned to look at him, shocked, and he just shrugged, “he said he wanted to ask you to Hogsmeade but wanted to make sure nothing was going on between you and Sirius”. Before she could unscramble her thoughts enough to answer, Remus piped up from his armchair. “A girl in the year below asked me something similar recently. Thought she might have a shot with Sirius, but wasn’t sure. She said something about you two having ‘chemistry’ at that party after the last quidditch match.” She fought the blush that spread across her cheeks at the memory. They’d thrashed Slytherin last month and she’d gotten pretty drunk at the party in Gryffindor tower afterwards. She always got a bit flirty when she drank, and Sirius was a shameless flirt even when he was stone cold sober. They’d traded a few harmless remarks early in the night, and later, though she couldn’t really remember how it happened, she ended up dancing to some ABBA songs with her back pressed against Sirius' chest, his arms around her waist and his hot breath on her neck. It hadn’t led anywhere - in fact she had been pretending it never happened - but she still felt a burning pit in her stomach whenever she thought about the way he had felt pressed against her, or the way he had grinned and licked his lips when she turned around and they danced chest to chest.

She shook herself slightly and forced herself to look at Sirius, who was frowning at Remus. “Plus,” she said bitingly, “you’ve established a pretty solid reputation for fucking anything that moves”. Sirius scowled at her before roughly shoving himself up from the couch and strolling past her to the record player that was now sitting idle, the last track having finished. She watched his tense shoulders as he carefully selected a new record and switched them over. She softened her tone, “I’m sure Davis will move on and start pestering some other poor girl before long. I just need you to play the overprotective boyfriend role until he backs off.” She shared a glance with Remus and James when he still didn’t respond. “Please,” she finally relented. When Black still didn’t answer, now decidedly fiddling with the tuning knobs on the record player, she sighed. She’d have to find another way to deter Davis and it’d have to be soon - she didn’t know how many more times she could hear his sleazy “hiya sweetheart”, before she’d resort to hexing him. And that would probably just make him re-double his efforts.

She barely noted the sound of the gryffindor portrait opening to let someone into the common room, but then- “There ya are sweetheart! Bin lookin’ all over for ya!” She gritted her teeth, turning around to see Lucas Davis stalking towards her, that stupid fucking smirk on his face. “Can’t think why, given that you saw me an hour ago and I told you to ‘leave me the fuck alone’”, she snapped. She could see both Remus and James tense in her peripherals, probably preparing to tell Davis to ‘fuck off’ themselves, but Sirius remained silent behind her. Davis either didn’t notice the two boys glaring at him, or didn’t care, and he only smiled wider, “aw come on princess, don’ be like that!” He whined, “I think you just need-” 

But she never found out what he thought she needed, as Sirius suddenly stepped up to her side, casually slung an arm around her shoulder and drawled, “You heard my girl, fuck off and leave her alone.” Davis visibly recoiled, and she might have laughed at his shocked expression had she not been entirely preoccupied by Sirius' comforting warmth as he leant against her. “Your girl?” He sputtered. 

“My girl.” Sirius repeated, and she could hear the mocking smile in his voice, “Girlfriend, paramour, lover, whatever. The point is: fuck. off.” Even Remus seemed to be hiding a grin as Davis stood there, dumbstruck, his eyes darting between her and Sirius as though stupefied. She relaxed into Sirius embrace and intertwined her fingers with his where they hung over her shoulder. “Bye Davis”, she crooned, with a smug smile. He seemed to struggle for another moment before turning on his heel and striding out the door without another word.

[mayabooowrites]

Do I know you?||D.M

It was a crisp autumn day. The air was tinged with the earthy scent of fallen leaves and the faint aroma of wood smoke from nearby chimneys.

The trees, dressed in hues of fiery red, burnt orange, and golden yellow, whispered softly in the breeze as their leaves danced gracefully to the ground, creating a colourful carpet beneath my feet. 

I stood concealed next to a towering oak tree, its rough bark cool against my back.

My heart felt heavy, burdened by guilt and an overwhelming sense of indecision that gnawed at me relentlessly. Across the narrow street, a quaint little bookshop between two bustling cafés caught my eye. The soft, warm glow of the shop’s interior beckoned, and I could see her through the window, illuminated by the welcoming light.

Y/n, my pregnant fiancée, browsed thoughtfully among the shelves, her fingers trailing along the spines of the books as if seeking the comfort of their stories. I could see the gentle curve of her belly beneath her cozy sweater, a silent testament to the new life we had created together.

Each breath she took seemed to radiate a serene beauty, yet I felt a pang of anguish twisting in my gut. I wanted to approach her, to wrap my arms around her and whisper assurances, but the weight of my secret held me back like a heavy fog that distorted my thoughts and clouded my resolve.

She flipped through the pages of a book with a gentle smile, her hair catching the sunlight in a way that made my breath catch in my throat. I had watched her from afar for months, unable to tear my gaze away. She was beautiful, radiant, and oblivious to who I was.

And that was my doing.

I had used a spell to erase all memories of me—of us—entirely from her mind. I made this decision in a moment of desperate clarity, knowing that the chaos surrounding us could potentially ensnare her in a danger far greater than she could imagine. 

She deserved a life free of the burdens and horrors that accompanied my existence. I couldn't bear to think of her caught in the crossfire of the dark forces at play, particularly with our child on the way. I remembered how radiant she looked, how full of hope and dreams she was, and I realized that the world I inhabited would only tarnish that light.

The stakes were higher than anyone could fathom. If anyone discovered that I was engaged to a muggle and had fathered a child with her, the consequences would be disastrous. My parents would undoubtedly react with horror and outrage, dragging both her and our child into a whirlwind of scandal and danger, perhaps even subjecting them to threats I couldn't bear to contemplate.

So, with a heavy heart, I cast the spell, watching as the memories of our shared laughter, our stolen moments, and the love we nurtured vanished into thin air. It felt like cutting a vital thread in the tapestry of my life, yet deep down, I believed I was doing the right thing. I hoped that somewhere in her mind, she would find peace, free from the weight of my legacy.

When the war finally drew to a close, leaving a haunting silence that echoed in my mind, my heart raced as I contemplated the weight of my choices. Should I return the memories of us to her? The thought of revealing myself filled me with dread, for it threatened to shatter the fragile peace she had managed to cultivate in my absence.

Yet, despite the overwhelming uncertainty, I could not shake my magnetic pull toward her. Each day, I gravitated toward Y/n, unable to resist the deep longing in my heart. It was like an invisible thread connected us that could not be severed by time or absence. She wore her laughter like a shimmering cloak, her gentle smile lighting up even the darkest corners of my soul, while her innate kindness remained a warm balm for the wounds I carried.

These memories, though bittersweet, were etched into my mind, serving as poignant reminders of what I had willingly surrendered when I erased her past. I had stripped her of memories that defined her, and in doing so, I had stolen pieces of myself as well. I questioned whether I even had the right to seek redemption. Did I deserve to be a father when my own actions had robbed her of a life that was rightfully hers?

In this moment of deep introspection, the stakes felt impossibly high. The future loomed uncertain, a vast canvas waiting for me to decide how to paint it. Would I reveal the truth, risking everything for honesty and reconnection? Or would I quietly fade into the shadows, allowing her to continue in the peaceful oblivion I had created? The thought tormented me, and in that turmoil, I felt the weight of my failures pressing heavily on my chest.

Lost in my thoughts, I didn't notice her stepping out of the bookshop until she bumped into me, her eyes widening in surprise.

"I'm so sorry," she said, her voice soft and melodic. "I wasn't paying attention to where I was going."

I smiled, a bittersweet feeling spreading through me. "It's quite alright. I should have been more careful as well."

She studied me momentarily, a flicker of recognition passing through her eyes before it was gone, replaced by curiosity. "Have we met before? You seem familiar."

I hesitated, my heart pounding in my chest. Should I tell y/n the truth? Should I give her back what I had taken all those months ago?

But then I looked into her eyes, full of innocence and unspoken trust, and knew what to do.

"No, we haven't met before," I said, my voice barely above a whisper. "I'm just passing through."

She smiled a little sadly. "Well, it's nice to meet you. I'm Y/N."

Y/n. The name echoed in my mind, a painful reminder of what I had lost. What I had chosen to sacrifice for her sake.

"It's nice to meet you too, Y/n. I'm Draco," I replied, forcing a smile onto my face. "I hope you have a wonderful day."

With that, I turned and walked away, leaving her standing on the sidewalk with a puzzled expression. I didn't look back; I couldn't bear the confusion and hurt in her eyes.

I silently vowed to myself as I entered Diagon Alley: I would leave her be, let her live without the burden of the past weighing her down, and carry the memory of her, of us, locked away in my heart forever.

I don't deserve her or my child. They are better off without me, without someone like me, someone tainted by Voldemort's mark, someone who wasn't troubled and didn't even know who they were anymore.

She deserved the best, and that wasn't me, and she needs to find that

Because sometimes, the greatest act of love is letting go.

"Goodbye, Y/n."

[velnias1]

Are you or someone you love suffering from heartbreak? Do you feel useless? Unlovable? If so, we here at potterheads united have just the thing for you! Introducing ✨George Weasley✨, he’s huggable! Kissable! Funny! And his mother loves you more than anything! And better yet he’s FICTIONAL! So he’ll never hurt you like that bastard did. George Weasley, for all your boyfriend needs.

Potterheadsunitedarenotliableforanypropertydamagegeorgeweasleymaycausetheyarealsonotliablefforsymptomssuchasfallinginloveheartpalpatationsorrednessofthecheeksandears

[apparentlytheproblem]

credit: @dear-november19 <3

M A R C U S L O P E Z M A S T E R L I S T

OR

M A T H E O R I D D L E M A S T E R L I S T

currently playing- forever favourite

annoying face

The readers on her phone relaxing after spending all Saturday on homework, and she opens tiktok and watches edits edits of her boyfriend and watches some for like hours and then he walks in- (stay with me bestie-) and she dosent notice, and she’s gotten really horny, needy and turned on *cough* maybe she goes on character ai to try to make her miss him less and she’s just super horny- he sees her watching edits of him and it’s just super smutty? [by annon]

warnings-

modern au, he's famous, smut, undergarments [help], previously annoyed reader, sitting on his face-, what are you even doing here? go study or touch grass or smthn

dating matheo riddle

just basic head cannons, there aren't any warnings, pretty sfw :)

[bitchyycapricorn]

Im here to request Narcissa Malfoy to kinktober!!! You are free to choose the kink but i want some hard smut pleeeease 🥺🥺

Thx Happy October 🎃😚

Sub!Narcissa Malfoy x Dom!Fem!Reader + Praise

-Good Girl-

Kintober Masterlist

Masterlist

AN: Ik this is a later request for kinktober that’s like a month overdue, I was just feeling a little ✨gay✨ (I fucking love women)

Warnings: SMUT BROSKIE!!! wlw, Dom/Sub dynamic, praise kink, punishment kink, fingering, oral (fem rec)

The feeling of Narcissa Malfoy’s body under yours wasn’t new. In fact, it had become a sort or routine since Lucius had been summoned to stand by the Dark Lords side. Since his leave, you often found yourself in her bed, under her covers, between her thighs, all while pressing rough kisses against her soft skin. And even now, your bottom lip was dragging across the inside of her thigh as you progress towards her heat in a teasing manner. There was always something about Cissy that made you hot and bothered whenever you were in the same room together. Now, only three months after her arranged marriage to your brother, you find yourself wrapping your arms under her thighs and pulling her closer to your face.

A moan erupts from her soft pink lips as your tongue slowly laps up her arousal, pleasing her the way she deserved to be pleased. Your fingers dig into the soft flesh of her hips as you pull her closer to your face that was still buried in her cunt. “Y/N…” She whines softly, her hands tugging at your pretty locks. You gave her a warning tap to her thigh in response, still continuing to trace circles around her clit with your tongue. “S-stop teas-…” she begins before another whine escapes her rather swollen lips. Your movements come to a halt as your eyes flicker up to meet hers.

She can’t help but let yet another whine leave her lips, despite knowing exactly what she’d done. “Good girls don’t whine. They use their words.” You tell her, sitting up so you can hover over her body. “Don’t you want to be a good girl?” You ask with a slow hum. Your fingers delicately tracing patterns on her hip down to her upper thigh. Her eyes widen as she bites her lip, only giving a small nod in response. Displeased by her lack of vocalization, you land a sharp smack to the side of her thigh. “I said use your words. If I have to ask again, I wont be able to let you finish tonight.”

“Yes, I want to be a good for you-“ She gasps, the feeling of your slap stinging her thigh as your handprint starts to form on her pale skin. “I wont be whiny anymore, I promise.” She swore. You nod, watching as pleasure clouds her vision at the motion of you entering two fingers into her. Her hands grasp your shoulders as you push your fingers deeper into her soft cunt.

“See, that wasn’t so hard.” You smirk, quickening your pace as your fingers curl inside her. You watch proudly as her eyes roll to the back of her head and her soft moans got louder. Her body seems to melt under your touch as she begins to grind her hips down onto your moving fingers. Her thighs were shaking and her bottom lip quivering as you continue to finger her roughly. “Such a pretty girl,” you coo, watching as she continues to try and get off by using your fingers. Pausing your thrusts, you take the opportunity to press your palm against her cunt, putting pressure on her clit as she continues to grind against your digits. Another cry escaped her lips as she moves her hips faster, fingers now digging into your shoulders as she chases her high.

“Go on, be a good girl and cum on my fingers.” You encourage, thrusting and curling just your fingers in her as she continues to struggle against your palm. You can feel the moment she tenses up, followed by her cunt squeezing your fingers as she releases, soaking the silk sheets beneath her. Her head lolls to the side, as you slowly pull your finger out of her.

+++

Taglist (I know I don’t have fandoms separated, so if you’re confused why you’re tagged that’s why lol)

@nataliewalker93  @sarapaprikas-blog @justkeepitblanc @etaerealboy @purplerose291  @witheringawayagain @dandelionqueen @brightlilith @laurens2002 @siriusly1 @hazzarules @cl0v3r-s0up @jibiwoni @maria-pqrker @just-henny @little-jana @ellie-emb @valslittleheart @reeseisinapiece @happilyneverafter69 @gram-cracker24 @kisstheskin @whenmypartysover @wowitsem @chinaza444 @sherlockstrangewolf @shine101 @moniffazictress11 @cryptidcreaturewrites

[wittyminds]

Golden Hour - James Potter

Anonymous request:

also, i dunno if you’re still active, since it’s been a while, BUTTT james potter with a girlfriend taking care of him after he’s at a party?

James Potter x Girlfriend Reader

Warnings - Fluff, fluff and more fluff

A/N

sorry it's been ages since my last post, i needed time to do exams, mental health stuff etc and this was distracting me from school (i say that and im supposed to be studying for an exam tomorrow). i am trying to answer the prompts people gave me and i apologise again for the extremely long wait. i understand if you're a little annoyed or have forgotten about asking in the first place. this isn't my best story i'll admit and it is a little short but... i tried :/

You can't remember how long the party had gone on for but, by the time you climb the stairs to the dormitory to crash, the clocks read 2 o'clock. You probably could've stayed longer if Sirius hadn't been flirting with you drunkenly or if your boyfriend, James, hadn't started singing a cappella ABBA. Not that he's a bad singer. He just gets a bit... friendly towards everyone around him.

After wrestling your way through the crowd, you now stand overlooking the party, fighting the urge to facepalm at your boyfriend as he prances about the room.

You carry yourself to your room, changing into your comfies and burrowing down into your blankets. A book that has been gathering dust on your table catches your interest and just as you slide the bookmark out, a loud thump against the door causes you to nearly jump out of your skin.

Springing from your bed, you slowly make your way to the door, fight or flight responses going crazy. Of course, it could just be one of your roommates. They were light drinkers and after a couple drinks they all went down like dominoes. Or it could be Sirius coming to ask if you want another drink or a dance.

You shake your head at the thought and open the door, staring up at the boy swaying in the dim light.

His large frame crashes through the door, almost crushing you.

"James!" You put your hands out to stop him from going any further forward and he staggers, trying to keep his balance.

His brow furrows as he looks around, clearly confused by his surroundings and you can't help but laugh slightly at the sight.

"Hang on.." His voice slurs and he stumbles over his feet again, "This isn't the boy's dorm."

You place your hands on his chest and steady him, "No. No it's not."

"Oh.." He steps back unsteadily into the hall, leaving you to follow him in case of an accident.

By the time you both reach the boy's dormitory, the only victims of his drunken state were an innocent coffee table, a series of butterbeer bottles and a terrified first year who just wanted to go to bed.

You practically carry him to his room, which proves a difficult task given he is nearly twice your size. He mumbles something as you lay him down but not even he seems to know what he's rambling on about.

"Right," You say softly, tucking his blankets over him like a child, "Go to sleep, you idiot."

He smiles a smile that scrunches his nose and you mirror him, giggling quietly.

"You're pr'tty."

Your smile falters slightly and try to stop the blush rising to your cheeks.

You had almost forgotten about his shameless honesty when drunk. Sure, it was nice to hear but he could warn you a little before springing the charm on you. He knows how easily you blush and was constantly using to his advantage.

When you turn to face him, he is still staring at you with large puppy dog eyes and a lazy smile that warms your heart. With a roll of your eyes, you walk back over and perch on the edge of the bed.

"Come again, Jamie?" Your voice was quiet but sweet and his crooked grin made the blush come back in a warm rush.

"You're pretty." His words are less slurred this time and you brush a hand over his hair, sweeping it out of his eyes fondly.

"I think you need to sleep, love." You murmur, trying to ignore the urge to fall asleep curled next to him, "You'll regret it tomorrow if you don't."

"Ugh." His face screws up and you giggle softly at the animated response, "You sound just like Moony!"

You roll your eyes again and just as you stand up, he makes a clumsy grab for your hand and pulls you back. You land on his chest and see him holding back a grunt of surprise from the impact.

You laugh out an apology and he looks away drowsily, clearly away to fall asleep.

"G'night, Jamie." His eyelids flutter and he forces his eyes open.

"What? I'm not sleepy!" He cries, voice scratchy already and rubs an eye with one hand, the other pulling you closer.

"Seriously?" You can't help but play along with his game.

"Mhm." He nods his head, "I could stay up for hours!"

His eyes droop again and his breathing grows heavy.

"Jamie?"

"Mhm?"

"You're falling asleep."

He doesn't reply and when you look up, his eyes are closed.

Taking the opportunity, you attempt to climb off of him but his arm is like a vice and you groan, silently cursing his stubbornness. Your head falls against his chest, his heartbeat filling your ears and you find yourself relaxing at the sound.

The golden glow of the candles sends a warm light over James and you can't help but stare at his still form, taking in every detail. The light dusting of freckles across his nose and the faint trace of a scar from a Quidditch match in his third year.

This is your own perfect golden hour, the two of you snuggled up with the smell of butterbeer and autumn outside.

You wait for his snores to fill the room but they don't come. Had he finally stopped snoring? Or was he trying to prove he wasn't sleeping?

"I'm gonna marry you one day."

His voice breaks the silence and your heart flutters at the words. You look up at your boyfriend and cuddle in closer to his side, wanting to stay in this moment forever. Just the two of you in your own perfect, slightly tipsy, world.

[zwolfgames]

Yandere Draco Malfoy x reader (Part 3)

Requested by: /

Warnings: Talks of murder, unlogical magic use, abuse of spells, violence and yandere stuff.

Parts: Part 1 , Part 2

And it was ass-

Draco woke up early to do his hair, insisting that he'd do yours aswell. And no, you were never as high end as him, so getting all these forgein products put into your hair wasn't pleasant.

He began choosing your weekend outfits. Styled your school robes when he didn't approve of how ruffled they were, he even went as far as to push you into the bathroom to shower when he found you too greasy. By wich you mean everyday....

You hadn't expected the blonde to be such a control freak, but he was. Okay, maybe you should have... 

Currently, you were simply walking down a secluded hall.. again, when the statue next to you and Draco let its axe drop.

You weren't fast enough to completly save your most controlling friend, tough you did pull him into you out of reflex. A bleeding cut was created on his left arm... but it was better then getting an axe trough your head, you suppose.

Draco screams out in angony and you wince as the sound hurt your ears.

You drag the fool with you to the infirmairy while he's crying out in pain, hoping you get there before he passes out because in no way are you strong enough to carry this lanky kid.

You grit your teeth as you think back to the now thrid attempt at Draco's life. What student even has the balls to attempt this even once? And how had the teachers not caught them?

And why is Harry Potter staring at you and Draco from behind a corne-

What.

You whip your head around to face the chosen one who freezes as he's caught.

"I can explain-" He stutters out with his hands up to show his innocence.

"Did you try to kill him?" You ask simply while Draco's just screaming.

"No-"

"Okay." You turn back around and keep walking, you had bigger problems then Potter's questions right now.

"What? No wait-" He runs after you as you keep walking.

You don't really react as you keep dragging Draco away to the infirmairy.

Mrs.Pomfrey gasps in shock as you bring Draco in, she immeadiatly gets to work and you can finally drop the screaming blonde onto a bed, tough he's mostly just crying now.

Draco demands that you hold his other hand while Pomfery heals his arm.

So you suck up your free will and sit next to his bedside to hold his hand.

Harry hasn't left... Just stares at the scene in confusion.

"Why are you friends with Malfoy?" The dark haired boy asks.

You eye him for a moment, as you've never talked before.

"I'm not." You shrug and Draco almost snarls.

".. You are." The blonde croaks out in pain, just to correct you.

You roll your eyes and Harry's frown tightens.

"Do you have any clue's on who's trying to kill him?" Harry asks, as if the target isn't right by you two.

"A student, thats all I know. And if you're going to be asking questions atleast make it less obvious that you're interogating us." You scoff and the boy bites his lip, pushing his glasses back up.

"I want to help-" 

"Yourself. We know." 

You finish for him and he looks baffled.

"Thats not what I was going to say." Harry frowns more, fidgeting with his sleeves.

"But it was what you meant. It's a student, thats all I know. Now shoo because the more I talk to you the harder this git squishes my hand." You side glare at Draco who is currently glaring at Harry.

"Then let go of him. He'll be fine on his own, come help us search." Harry suggests a bit calmly now.

Wow, you've never tought of just letting go- Ofcourse you had! Draco just had a deathgrip on your hand.

"This doesn't concern you, Potter." You shake your head. Harry steps closer to look you in the eye.

"No, it does concern me. Nothing at this school ever happens without Voldemort being behind it, it has to be some kind of elaborate plan to get the schools defences down." Harry tries to convince you.

"Ah yes, killing Lucius' son is gonna bring all of Hogwarts down! The worst it's gonna do is have Draco's dad sue the school or something." You explain.

"You know his father?" Harry asks in disbelief. "Well not personally, why?" You ask in confusion, eyebrows scrunching together.

"He's evil." Harry whispers as if he isn't being glared at by the blonde.

"Yea so? Thats not my problem?" You shrug again and ignore the pulling on your hand from a clearly annoyed Slytherin.

"What? That... Y/N, just help us, you're with Draco all the time, and you've saved him too. We can solve this together." Harry starts again with his proposal.

"No, Potter, let the teachers solve things for once, go study or something. And why do you know my name?" You narrow your (e/c) eyes.

Harry stiffens. From what you've heard of Draco's shittalking, he's quite the stalker. Tough you'd never expected to be a victim of it.

"Don't worry about it, you're well known-"

"I'm not."

"You're friends with a Malfoy."

"I'm not." You repeat again.

"..You are.." Draco buts in again.

You sigh at the absurdity of this all. Harry wanted that thrill of mystery. Draco wanted a friend he could control and you just wanted to pass this year.

Very diffrent wants and needs. Not compatible.

So you'd ditch them both.

Easy as that.

When Draco was allowed out of the infirmairy you helped him back up to your shared room and ran off as fast as you could.

Two goals in mind, catch the mystery person and avoid everyone else.

So, out of pure desperation, you stole a polyjuice potion from proffesor Snape's supply. How, you may ask. You snuk a letter up under the door of his office that said he was needed by Dumbledore in terms of his potions career. It couldn't be too obvious, but it seems you had nailed it.

So without furder ado, you threw a hair of your blonde 'friend' into the potion. You had snatched a Slytherin tie from his closet. Quite an idiotic descicion to let you live in his dorm...

Oh well. You were transformed in a matter of minutes, tried to adjust the now blonde hair back to how neat Draco usually had it and set off to go find the most secluded and dark places off the castle.

If they wanted Draco malfoy dead, then they'd have to try harder.

It didn't take long before you felt watched. But you had to keep the cocky air up around you. Chin up, back straight. 

And bam! A spell again! Right past your face from behind. Since you weren't actually Draco, you had been on guard. And this time this sucker wasn't getting away.

You chugged down a speed potion, accio-ing your broom as you ran after the person. Draco's height aided your sprint, tough you hoped the polyjuice potion didn't affect your own pyshical abilities because you doubt that Draco could hold up running as long as you.

Your broom flew into your hand not long after, stealing tricks from Potter wasn't a bad idea as long as no-one saw it!

You didn't even sit on the long stick, no time for that. You just let it drag you along as it flew. You didn't know brooms could even work like that, but your will power was enough for it to do so.

You pushed off against walls as you followed this person into the darker parts of the castle. Deeper into the dungeons. They must have realised long ago that you weren't Draco, or they'd have tried something to hurt you.

Glidinf off of stairs, ignoring the harsh thuds you made against walls and the layers of skin under your pants that were getting torn up by your landing and frantic turns and collisons.

It could all be fixed. As long as you finally caught this damm person it would all be worth it.

With a last jump you caught onto the persons black hood, togging it off and holding in to keep them in your grip.

A feminine yelp left the wrongdoer's mouth as you threw her onto the ground. Letting your broom fly out of your hands so you could pull out you wand, aimed right at her neck.

A....

A child....

First year, maybe.... second year?

You didn't know. But you eyes widened at the sight of this... scared girl.

 But now's not the time to be weak, who knows, maybe she took a polyjuice potion too to get the wrong person jailed.

"Explain, right now." You demand in a snarl. It must have looked a lot more intimidating considering you had Draco's face at the moment... It was strange hearing his voice say your words...

"I-I only want him dead!" The girl shouts out. You stiffen and tug her up by the hair.

"And why?" You narrow your now grey eyed gaze. Glaring harshly.

"His father ruined my family! Why are you helping him!?" The girl sobbed. You weren't sure what to do...

Let a kid kill Draco or just turn her in...

You couldn't let her roam free and try again. If Draco actually died you'd be suspicious too.... And intergogated. Truth serum and bam, they had you as the one that let the murderer get away.

Is that a selfish tought?

Are you allowed to think that way?

"I'm helping him because I'm not letting someone die, Malfoy or not." You bite back.

"Thats stupid, he's using you! Let me go!" The girl tries to kick you, a quick 'Stupefy' to the face knocks her right out.

No, you made your desciscion, better safe then sorry. You'd just... deliver her to Dumbledore... Thats better then.. Snape? Better then McGonnagall? Atleast punishment wise. Maybe.. they'd just send her to therapy?

Yea.. lets believe in that...

You carried the girl out of the dungeons. Exhausted by the end of the stairs. If only you knew a spell to make bodies float, too bad thats a Potter exclusive.

After some breaks and huffs, you got to Dumbledore's way too high up office.

Trying to make the walls open or whatever, you hadn't ever been here before...

And you still looked like Draco...

Oh this day couldn't get any worse.

You managed to open the gateway, dropped the kid on a chair at Dumbledore's office and looked him in the eye.

"Malfoy, what brings you and Delaine here?" Dumbledore inquires calmly.

"It's L/N, sir. This is the girl thats been trying to kill Malfoy, excuse my looks..." You sigh and run a hand trough your- Draco's hair. Too much gel for your liking...

"L/N? I see. And how did you aquire a polyjuice potion?" Dumbledore asked with an amused smile.

He didn't look mad but you were'nt going to risk it.

"Lucius Malfoy aided me and Draco in our plan, sir." You lied spontaniously. The old man didn't seem to question it and just nodded.

....

"She isn't going to.. Azkaban, right?" You ask in a whisper.

"No... Miss Delaine hasn't killed anyone... yet. She'll be undergoing a trial. I'll be sure to give your house twenty points for your heroic behavior. You like it on the down low, don't you?" Dumbledore smiles.

You stiffen at his sudden.. correct assumption.

You tought he knew lots, but to know personal things about you? Some random student? Weirdo...

What's he? All seeing?

"You're dismissed, L/N. Be sure to visit the imfirmairy, you look quite rustled." Dumbledore advised and opens the gateway for you again.

You nod and walk out.

Only when the door closes again does your calm expression twist into guilt...

You just ruined some girls life... Not as bad as going to Azkaban... but you defenitly fucked it up..

But.. but it would have been worse for her if she had actually killed Draco. You keep repeating that all the way to the infirmairy.

Why did it have to be some kid?

You weren't sure wether to tell Draco the morning after.

You had come back to the dorm, no strange onlookers glared at you now that you looked liked Draco.

Tough you watched in the mirror as the potions' effects wore off. As the blonde melted back into (h/c) and your body became your own again.

All while you saw the person you were sleeping behind you.

He wasn't even tucked in correctly...

So you did that first... then went to bed yourself.

And now here you were, with Draco gushing over how amazing you looked with the Slytherin tie and how you should steal his clothes more often.

You refrained from looking angry since he didn't need to know all about your reasons for it.

A shame you forgot to change before going to sleep...

He made you wear that tie for the whole day.

It was like a claim.

You weren't sure how you felt about this whole 'friendship' anymore now that the murder problem had been resolved...

Maybe you'd just stick around untill one of the teachers officially announces that the case was solved.

You just wanted your old friends back, your old roomates...

But luck was never on your side.

Not a week after, it had been revealed, wich seemed good. You weren't mentioned, just like Dumbledore knew you wanted.

But oh boy. Someone else knew.

Lucius Malfoy.

The man himself came to visit Hogwarts and singled you and Draco out after dinner.

Exposing your heroic deeds and making Draco like you even more.

he assumed you cared about him to do all this. You just had the basic human decency to not let someone die.

Thats all there was to it.

Atleast on your side.

After Lucius' visit, Draco didn't let you leave him like you had planned.

And you were finally fed up.

Packing your stuff, you'd just move back to your dorm without asking.

"What do you think you're doing?" Draco stood in the doorway. Closing the door behind him as he walked in.

"Moving back. The murder is solved." You state calmly, trying not to provoke anything in the blonde.

"Y/N, you can't do that." He shakes his head and opens your wardrobe again to put your clothes back.

"I can. I've helped you, it's over now." You refuse and put the clothes back in your suitcase.

Draco's face twists into a frown as he comes closer.

"We're not over."

"That isn't what I said-"

"You're mine, Y/n."

Draco announces so directly you needed a moment for the shock to pass so that that cringe feeling could swarm over you.

"Excuse me?" You ask in offence.

"You're mine. In everyway a person could be mine." Draco elaborates, it isn't making his words any better."

"You're sounding absurd." You facepalm but your wrist gets snatched and pulled to his chest.

"You don't understand. I want you in every way there is to want. You're my soulmate. Platonically, Romantically- whatever ally there is. You're the first true friend I've had. You're mine." Draco grins slightly... pshycotically.

Sure mental problems are allowed but keep them to yourself, jeez.

"Did someone make you chug a love potion? Go sober up in the corner and then we'll talk." You keep your cool. Even if you're freaking out on the inside. He isn't acting normal. This has to be a potion of somekind.

Surely it is.

"My father has already agreed that I can court you, Y/N. Don't you see how good this could be for you.?" Draco smiles, trying to convince you of his ultimate love.

You cringe and try to back away, but the blonde just backs you up more into the wardrobe.

"Don't fight our bond." Draco whispers rather creepily.

You'd rather fight both the bond and him if you could choose.

But the moment that you did, or well, attempted to punch him, you were out like a light.

Just like that girl you caught, Draco had 'stupefied' you too.

Knocked out cold for him to gush over.

He just needed a friend that wouldn't leave him.

A friend that wasn't fake.

And you were perfect, seeing as you had no trouble insulting him.

So you were his.

You'd stay his.

You had chosen wrong.

_____☆_____

Kinda lame ending, I know.

But I mean, good enough for a long ass one shot like this. Coudln't let it get too long.

Requests are always open. This is also on Wattpad (its one whole chapter there), and request can be done there too! Whatever you prefer!

have a nice day/night <3

_____☆_____

Words: 5210 (If you read all three parts)

taglist: @maggiecc

[elfenbensord]

i have a need for remus lupin to call me ‘lovebug’.. i don’t know where the need has arisen from but it’s there

and as you wrote my george x reader request so well (lysm for that <3) i was wondering whether i could maybe request smth fluffy with rem calling reader lovebug, please

OH maybe she’s been studying in the library for AGES and he’s kind of worried for her health

again lysm - 🦕

a/n: hi again, cutie😊 that need is so valid and so relatable tbh. i’m also casually obsessed with this piece, hope you like it as well ❤️🥰

pairing: remus lupin x fem!reader,

summary: remus finds you in the library, and accidentally confesses his love for you. friends to lovers. fluff.

wordcount: 742

warnings: none.

lovebug

15.10.23

He finds you in the library, head hanging over a long piece of parchment filled with your tiny, scraggly handwriting. 

“What are you doing, all cooped up in here? The sun is shining, it’s a beautiful day!” Remus scolds you, crossing his arms and sending you a fond look.

You won’t even look at him, too focused on your work. “I think I found this error in my essay on the uprising of the elves of 1670, I just had to fact-check it so Professor Binns doesn’t think I’m an absolute idiot–”

“No one thinks that”, Remus says softly.  You smile, finally meeting his eyes. “You’re too kind.”

He nods. “Just kind enough, I’d say.”

You let your quill fall onto the table. Standing up with a screech from the chair, you actually take a proper look at him. Remus is for once not drowning in a bulky jumper, probably due to the hot beginning-of-summer weather. Instead, he’s wearing a breezy short-sleeved shirt and a pair of light-blue jeans. His arms are exposed, both to your dismayal and pleasure. You pretend not to notice the blonde, soft-looking hairs dusting his forearms. He looks happy, he does well in summer. Freckles are starting to show across his nose and cheeks, his hair becoming just a shade lighter in the sun. It’s a teasing view of what could be yours, if one of you could just swallow your pride and tell each other. 

He towers over you even though you’re now standing instead of sitting down. He leans even closer, pretending not to notice how your breath hitches. Heart pumps faster, making you feel dizzy. “Whadd’ya say, wanna head down to the lake? Maybe a quick skinny-dip?”

“A– Skinny dip?” A warmth spreads across your face, fills your entire body. You do your best to stay afloat. “Are you actually serious?” you blubber out.

“Why wouldn’t I be.” He flashes a smile. Breath hot on your face, nose barely grazing yours. You wonder how you’re gonna survive this conversation.

He doesn’t wipe the suggestive grin from his face. He knows what he’s doing to you, how could he not? “Maybe a midnight dip is more to your liking, Lovebug?” 

Lovebug? Your brain is turning to mush.

You clear your throat. Suddenly, a cold, careless anxiety starts to spread. You take a breath, “Where’s this all coming from? Did… Did Sirius put you up to this? To tease me, or something?”

Remus’ face drops. His hands get out of control, waving in broad gestures as he talks. “No, no, no… I’m sorry, I’m just… I’m being silly. Sorry. That was, that was inappropriate. I’m really sorry.”

You smile weakly at him. Of course you forgive him. Of course.

Remus isn’t ready to give up quite yet. He places a hand on your shoulder, squeezing softly. It trails down, until it can toy with your fingers. “But for the record, I wouldn’t mind going skinny dipping tonight. Together. Just you and me.”

“Remus, what do you mean?” you say slowly.

“That I want to… I want… I want you.”

Your heart drops out of you Mary-Janes, leaving you limp and jelly-like. “Wh– What?”

“Sorry. That’s inappropriate too. Let’s just– Let’s just forget everything happened. I’m gonna go and uuh– die of shame now. See you at dinner-”

He turns around quickly, almost sprinting for the librabry exit. You catch his hand, stopping his escape. Your hands intertwine. Eyes meet. 

You exhale. “I want you too.” A beat of silence. 

Then his face opens up in a grin, shining like the sun. “You do?”

You nod.

Remus grabs your hand, placing a tender kiss on it. He won’t stop smiling. “What… What do we do now?”

“How about”, you grasp his shirt, feeling the light fabric between your fingers. “A skinny dip in the lake, at midnight?”

“Sounds perfect.”

“Great. Now go away, please. I have an essay to write.”

“Will do, Lovebug. See you tonight.”

“See you.”

You smile as you see him leave the library. He turns around once, twice, to send a blazing smile your way. The essay in front of you melts into a million daydreams all including a certain brown-haired boy. Lovebug.

[nancy-reads]

you belong with me

pairing: fred weasley x reader

summary: fred wakes up after a wild night with his team to his phone buzzing nonstop after his latest tweet. Turns out he accidentally invited his old chemistry partner (and long-time crush) to the second game of the season. pining and fluff ensue.

warnings: a tiny little bit of spice at the end (it's really not that much i just want to warn you guys)

authors note: i promise the sequal to am i the one you think about will come out, i just got a bunch of inspiration to write this all of the sudden and wanted to share it with you guys!!

CROSSPOSTED TO AO3

As soon as Fred woke up, he regretted everything. His head was pounding, his throat was dry, and his muscles ached. Every part of him wanted to lie back down and never get up again. 

His memories of last night were fuzzy at best. He was hanging with some of the boys from his team, celebrating after their first game of the season. Many beers were passed around, and for some reason, Fred had a vague memory of the team shouting at him over and over to do it.

Strange. They probably wanted him to take a bunch of shots or something. Usually, he’d be down, but not during football season. He had games to win, and Superbowls to play at. 

Fred opened his eyes and blinked sleepily. As the world came into focus, he realized that his phone was buzzing, and had been for a while. He rolled over, chugged a glass of water, and grabbed his phone.

His jaw dropped as he saw the flood of notifications. 

Fred Weasley’s Secret Crush?

Fred Weasley Invites Mystery Girl to Sunday’s Game Over Twitter

Football Hearthrobb Fred Weasley Has a Girlfriend?!

Holy shit. 

There was only one person this could be about, and he might just die from embarrassment if he was right. You had probably completely forgotten about him, while he still liked all of your Instagram photos on his private account. 

Fred scrolled through his notifications to see what looked like a million from Twitter alone, and a text from nearly everyone he knew. 

Taking a deep breath, he tapped the Twitter app and clicked on his profile.

Fred Weasley @thebetterweasley

never would have gotten to the nfl without my college chem partner @ynln… tickets to the next game on me?

Fred’s eyes widened as he reread his tweet over and over again. He could feel his entire body heating up as he fought the urge to bury his head in his hands. 

He just blew it. Entirely. You would never be interested in him now. You’d just think he wanted the attention, or worse, just for a quick fling.

Fred couldn’t imagine ever only wanting a fling from you. You and your gorgeous hair, beautiful eyes, and the way you talk way just mesmerizing. He could never focus during Intro To Chemistry because you’d be sat right next to him, eyes sparkling and pen flying as you took notes. 

And he saw your grades. You were basically a genius, acing every test and perfecting every project. You were probably in grad school right now or in some sort of job for brilliant people who are saving the world. 

You probably had no idea who he was. 

*

After an embarrassingly long time spent moping, Fred got out of bed and reluctantly headed to the gym to work out. In between reps, he responded to the thousands of texts that he received, either congratulating him or calling him an idiot. 

He definitely knew which ones were right. 

His tweet had millions of likes by now, so there was no chance that you’d missed it. He’d been contacted by loads of news outlets, asking for a quote or an interview or anything about you, and he’d denied all of them. The passive-aggressive text from his manager, Alicia, was enough to make him want to delete every social media account he owned. 

Fred had just finished his last stretch routine and was headed toward the showers when he got a notification.

Y/N L/N @ynln

maybe i’ll swing by…see if we still have chemistry

Fred could feel the heat spread from his neck all the way to his hairline. He wanted to giggle and kick his feet like a lovesick teenager. Maybe he didn’t ruin everything after all?

You tweeted it a minute ago..would it be weird for him to like it immediately? 

Yes. Yes, it would. 

That didn’t make him want to do it any less. 

As Fred headed to the shower, a massive smile adorning his face, he immediately hit the call button because he had to tell someone about this. You responded to his tweet. He wanted to jump around and squeal like a kid with a crush. 

Which was pretty accurate, to be quite honest.

 “George,”

“Freddie, I just finished my workout, is this really that imp-”

“She responded to my tweet!!” Fred nearly shouted. He was bouncing on the balls of his feet, eyes shining with excitement. He didn’t recognize himself as he looked in the mirror. His smile was too big for his face, and his ears were bright red. 

“It did have more than a million likes, Fred. I think she kind of had to.”

“Don’t ruin this for me George. I’ve liked her for so long, what do I even do now?”

Fred could hear George’s exasperated smile from miles away. “First, you are going to take a deep breath. You are a cool NFL football player, not a horny teenager. “

“Right. Yes.”

He took a deep breath, but his heart was still racing and the butterflies in his stomach would not go away. Come on Fred, you are gonna be normal about this. You can do it.

“You got that Fred?” George asked. Fred murmured an affirmative. “Okay, now you are gonna get tickets to the VIP booth, four of them.”

“Four? Why-”

“Because one of them is for Mum, as you know she will get there somehow if you’ve invited a girl.”

“That’s fair, actually.”

“Also, the public loves her so I assume that your girl will want to meet her too.” Fred pointedly ignored how his heart raced at the words “your girl.” George continued, “You’re also not going to be the asshole who makes her go alone, so give her a couple tickets for her friends.”

“When did you get so smart with girls?”

George chuckled. “Oh this is all Angelina. I don’t know anything.”

“Yeah, that makes a lot more sense, Georgie.”

“Hey!”

Fred hung up as he orders four VIP tickets for the game. He immediately sends one to his mum, but he pauses before sending it to you. 

see you at the game! you better be wearing red and gold…

Fred added a winky face, then immediately deleted it. He didn’t want to seem too juvenile or worse, weird. His thumb hovered over the blue send button, rereading the DM over and over. At last, he admitted defeat and sent a screenshot to Geoge.

F: does this sound okay?

G: yes. stop worrying.

F: you act as if you were not the same way when you asked angelica to the yule ball

G: shut up

Fred snorted as he switched back to Twitter. He took a deep breath, steeled himself, and pressed send.

*

For the rest of the week, Fred practiced harder than ever. All eyes were gonna be on him this week, and he needed a win. More importantly, you were gonna be at this game, and he knew who he wanted to dedicate his touchdown to.

He’d been thinking about it since that freshman year chemistry class when he was nothing but a rookie tight end, and the NFL was nothing but a dream. The crowd goes wild, but the only person he’s looking at is you.

Christ, when did he become such a romantic?

He felt a smile split across his face when his phone buzzed during a break.

Y: i looked through my closet and i don’t know if i have any red and gold…might have to steal something of yours

F: stay after the game and maybe we’ll see

The two of you didn’t text often, maybe a couple of times a day, but it was always a highlight. Locker room talk had devolved into just making fun of Fred’s puppy dog eyes and lovesick smile whenever he opened his phone. 

Someone from the press got a picture of him smiling at his phone, and the internet exploded even more. 

Fred Weasley Caught Blushing At His Phone During Practice

Fred Weasley’s Smile Has the Internet Swooning

Fred Weasley’s Mystery Girl: Who Is She?

Part of him wanted to feel embarrassed with all the attention, but he was too grateful that you had finally given him the time of day to really think about it. He was laser-focused on every play and worked extra hard at the gym. They would win the game this week, even if it was purely by his will.

*

Fred had never been this nervous for a game before. Every single playoff game, championship, or even the Superbowl hadn’t prepared him for this feeling. 

His girl was up there, and he had to impress you today. 

The crowd screamed louder than ever as he ran onto the field with his team. There were signs everywhere, asking if you were here and making jokes about Fred being a loverboy. He couldn’t stop the smile from spreading across his face as he looked around the stadium, taking it all in.

There was nothing he loved more than football, and having other people love him for it was even more special.

Still, Fred tried to catch your eye in the VIP booth, and his smile widened when he saw you talking to his mum. Embarrassing as it was, everyone loved her, so she was probably the quickest way to your heart. Eventually, though, his mum took pity on him and pointed him out to you.

And shit, your smile when Fred finally looked into your eyes. The two of you were far away, so it was hard to tell, but he already knew it was beautiful. He stared at you, probably for longer than was considered normal until the whistle blew and he was forced to follow his team.

*

This was probably the best game his team had ever played. Everyone was in sync, and the plays they’d worked on all summer were gaining them yards across the field. Everyone could feel the energy in the stadium as people cheered his name.

The only problem, Fred hadn’t yet scored a touchdown. Halftime had just ended, and the team was up thirty-one points. He could feel the coaches wanting to pull him out and let the best people rest while they had such a great lead, however, he silently begged them to let him stay in. 

Just one good play and I’ve got this.

And his chance finally came halfway through the third quarter. They were only a few yards away from the endzone, and Fred knew that this was his chance as Oliver called the play. 

The whistle blew, and Fred didn’t even see the other players as he sprinted into the endzone, dodging anyone who attempted to get in his way. He and Oliver were in perfect sync as he threw the ball straight into Fred’s hands, securing another six points for the team.

The crowd screamed as the touchdown was announced, and Fred couldn’t stop himself from doing a little victory dance. His eyes found your booth as he headed to the sideline, and he blushed from head to toe at your reaction. You were jumping around and screaming with joy (he hoped) and you looked adorable. 

In a moment of confidence, he caught your eye, placed his hand on his chest, and held out half a heart, mouthing “This one is for you.”

Part of him wondered if he was coming on too strong, but the other part was enamored with you as you clasped your hand over your beautiful smile and held half a heart back. 

The crowd let out an “aww” as you showed up on the screen beside him, and he couldn’t stop himself from beaming at the nearby camera. He could feel people tapping away at their phones to post on social media, but he didn’t care. You were cheering for him.

The game continued, and Fred was mostly put on the sidelines to give some of the rookies a chance to play, as it was looking pretty good for his team. He couldn’t stop himself from stealing glances at your booth, so much so that the team was beginning to notice.

“Fred, loverboy, the game is this way,” Lee Jordan teased. 

“Staring at your mom, Weasley?” Andrew Sloper asked.

Even Oliver, who usually had a stick up his ass, joined in on the fun. “God, Fred, you’d think Taylor Swift was here or something.”

Fred was happy to laugh with them. He hadn’t remembered feeling this giddy in a long time, and he couldn’t push the smile from his face. Part of him was eager for the game to be over, so he could go see you. 

Still, his hands shook and butterflies erupted from his stomach when he thought about heading up to your booth. Would conversation flow? Would you even like him in person after all these years? Did you only come for free tickets or for internet clout?

That wasn’t it, he knew. You were too kind, too good to do that when it was obvious how head over heels he was for you. Still, part of him worried.

*

Fred was sure his team was sick of him by now. He’d been agonizing over his hair for the past thirty minutes as he prepared to leave the locker room and finally see you. He’d blown you a kiss as he left the field, and he was wondering if he’d come on too strong, and clearly if his hair was wrong it would ruin everything. 

Maybe he was panicking a little bit. He’d texted you a few minutes ago, giving you instructions on how to get to the family and friends area outside the locker room. He hoped his mum would guide you there, as the last thing he wanted was for you to get lost and attacked by rabid football fans. You didn’t deserve that. 

After a few more minutes, he realized that his hair was hopeless (it looked fine) and decided he would rather not leave you waiting. With a last look in the mirror and a deep breath, he headed out of the locker room.

The area was crowded; full of girlfriends, wives, children, and all sorts of family and friends of the team. There was a buzz in the room of people talking, laughing, and generally celebrating the win. The sounds got even louder as he entered, and Fred could see people acting like they weren’t staring at him.

Still, he wasn’t paying attention to anything but you as you locked eyes across the room. You gave him a shy smile, and he couldn’t stop himself from beaming as he headed straight for you. 

“Hey,” you said. Your eyes were piercing, and very distracting. He couldn’t seem to form a thought as he stared into them.

“Hey,” he said back, stupidly. He hesitated for a moment as the butterflies felt more like stampeding wildebeest in his stomach. “Did you enjoy the game?”

There was a teasing lilt to your voice as you responded. “I don’t know. It was alright, I suppose.”

“Alright?” Fred asked in mock annoyance. He placed a light hand on your back as he guided you out of the family area. “I guess next time I’ll give my free VIP tickets to someone else.”

You snorted. “As if you have someone else to give them to.”

“Hey! I have plenty of people to give tickets to.”

“Like who?” you asked. “Your mom?”

Fred smiled and placed a dramatic hand on his chest. “You dare insult Mother Weasley?” 

You smiled and stared at the ground as you shook your head. “Never. We had a great time hanging out tonight.”

He gave you a soft smile. “I’m glad. I have a feeling that you’re going to be her new favorite.”

As the two of you neared the press area, Fred straightened and pressed his hand slightly closer to your back. He didn’t want to be too forward, however, he knew how aggressive the press could be. “For this next part, just be careful of the reporters. Our security is really good, and honestly,” he chuckled a bit, “I could take most of them, but I don’t want anyone making you uncomfortable.”

You nodded and pressed a bit closer to him, making him blush even harder. 

It was a small hallway, and the press was kept behind some silver barriers that allowed the two of you some space to walk. Cameras flashed and videos recorded Fred and you walking past. You had the prettiest smile in the world, and Fred couldn’t stop looking at you as you gave an especially beautiful one to the cameras.

He’d have to find that photo later. 

Fred was desperate to grab your hand as the two of you walked toward his convertible, but his hands were sweaty and shook at the thought. You looked gorgeous in the moonlight, and he couldn’t stop his eyes from dropping to your lips.  

As the two of you sped off, you looked at him and raised an eyebrow. “I believe I was promised a jersey after the game.”

He smirked. “I’m pretty sure I said we’ll see.”

“So you don’t want to see me in your jersey next game?”

“Who said you were getting invited to my next game?”

“Seemed like someone enjoyed having me there tonight,” you said, looking away from him, a teasing smile on your face.

Fred smiled. “When did you get so confident? I remember it took forever for us to actually talk when we met.”

“I know it may surprise you Freddie, but some of us grew up a bit after college.”

“Really?” he gasped, dropping his jaw. “That's crazy.”

“And,” you added, “some of us have learned how to tell when someone is flirting with us.”

That's when Fred’s jaw dropped for real, and red spread all the way to his ears. He turned back to the road, focusing on driving as hard as he could. Letting you see the giddy beam on his face was not an option. Your hand moved toward the center console, right next to his, and every part of him itched to hold it.

He cleared his throat. “So, uh…how have you been?”

He listened to you describe your life and your job as if he had not been stalking you on Instagram since he met you. It seemed like you had thrived since college, and Fred felt his heart soar when he heard how happy you were. You deserved everything, and Fred silently hoped he would be there to see you get it.

As the two of you pulled into the parking lot, Fred caught you staring at him, biting your lip as he backed into the spot. He smiled to himself as he got out of the car and opened the door for you. 

“Dinner?”

*

Dinner was perfect. Fred couldn’t stop laughing and smiling in your presence, and it seemed like you were having a great time as well. Every so often the conversation would lull, and he would catch you staring at him as the two of you enjoyed your meal. 

He did his share of staring as well, but he hoped that he was less obvious about it. 

(He wasn’t.)

Fred finally found the courage to grab your hand as the two of you were leaving the restaurant, with your head thrown back in a laugh that rocked his world. You just looked so adorable that he had to hold you, even if it was just your hand. 

He knew it was the right choice when you immediately squeezed his hand. He squeezed back, which caused you to do it again, beginning an all-out hand-squeezing war that only ended when the two of you were laughing too hard to continue. 

Christ, your laugh was just so beautiful. You looked so free and so happy when you simply threw your head back and laughed, letting your joy overtake your entire body. Fred could feel himself staring, but he didn’t care. He just wanted to be a part of your sunshine. 

Too soon, you stopped laughing and just stared back at him. He held your gaze for a moment, letting his eyes flick to your lips every so often. He stepped closer to you. Close enough to touch you. Close enough to lean in…

Close enough to kiss you. 

You’re eyes slid shut as Fred leaned in and placed a hand under your chin to tilt your face up to meet his. Slowly, so terribly slowly, he leaned in and pressed his lips to yours.

Your lips were soft, and they seemed to meld with his perfectly. Fred could feel his pulse racing as you tugged on the lapels of his jacket to get closer. Christ, he just wanted to be closer to you, closer, and closer.

You opened your mouth slightly, and Fred took that opportunity to part your lips and deepen the kiss. He felt you inhale sharply and panicked for a moment until he heard your small moan at the movements of his tongue. All Fred knew was that he wanted to hear that sound again, and again, and again until you couldn’t make it anymore, until you were tired and sick with pleasure-

You gasped as you pulled away from him. Your lips were raw and red, matching the blush that colored your cheeks. It was silent for a moment as the two of you gazed at each other. 

Fred smirked. “So…do you think we still have chemistry?”