#hp sapphics

[thebibutterflyao3]

"Thistle"

@pandalilymicrofics - 1329 words

Series Beginning

part twenty-three - part twenty-four - part twenty-five

Pandora grimaced as the knot of unease tightened in her belly. Evan’s hand found her shoulder and squeezed, offering comfort despite his obvious confusion. How would she explain this to him? 

Oh by the way, your new boss and I finger-blasted each other after a tipsy pub night together a few days ago. The very day you were hired as a matter of fact.

Sure, sure. He’d take that well. And Lily? Pandora had no idea how Lily would react next. The shock struck her silent now, but would she lash out when she recovered?

A stinging thistle of dread stabbed Pandora’s chest, creeping into her lungs and pricking incessantly with each breath. The last thing she wanted was to upset Lily. Pandora wanted to leap over this half-wall and fling herself into Lily’s arms, and she would have, if Lily would catch her. If she had any confidence that Lily was as moved by their night together as she was, Pandora would snog her senseless here and now.

That is not the face of a woman pleased to see her one-night-stand.

Lily cleared her throat and dropped her gaze, her cheeks dusted pink beneath the freckles. “Well done, Lily,” she muttered, “I’ll just…” letting the sentence trail off as she knelt to gather the confetti of documents at her feet. 

“We should go,” Pandora reminded Evan, grabbing his hand and turning toward the door. Over her shoulder, she offered an apologetic smile to Remus since Lily hadn’t looked up again. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to disturb—”

“Oh, no apologies necessary,” Remus said, glancing between her and Lily with a growing smile. “Enjoy your lunch.”

The moment the door closed behind them, Evan burst out laughing. He threw his head back and leaned against the wood frame of the large shop window. It was the first time Pandora had heard him release more than a chuckle in years. She didn’t even care that it was at her own expense. Her brother looked free.

“What d-did you d-do?” Evan choked out, waving a hand at his face as a rosy hue tinted his olive complexion.

Pandora adjusted the shoulder strap of her purse and sighed heavily. “You don’t want to know. Can we go to lunch now? I’d really like to forget that happened.”

“Oh no, you better explain yourself,” Evan insisted, tripping over her heels to follow when she turned to walk away. “I didn’t think it was possible to fluster her like that! She’s so confident and self-assured, even when she’s stressed. Barty said she threw him up against a wall the last time he flirted with her. How did you cause that?”

“Wait, what?” 

Pandora turned to look at him and promptly became twisted up in her maxi skirt. Annoyed, she grabbed his arm for balance as she tried to tug it free from her boot. Her brother’s deeply ingrained gentlemanly instincts kicked in as he stood tall and stabilised his arm while she leaned into him.

“I can’t even imagine—” Pandora said, cutting herself off with a huff. “Ugh, this skirt! Evan, who is this Barty and what did he say to her?”

Evan shrugged nonchalantly, but she could tell he was uncomfortable. “A friend I went to Amsterdam with a year ago. He has family there, I guess. Look, I know Barty’s…a little wild, but he wouldn’t hurt Lily. They’re old friends or something.”

“Old friends? Isn’t that a euphemism for exes?” she said, rolling her eyes. 

When she finally unwound her skirt from the buckle of her boot, Pandora straightened. She glanced up at Evan to continue their conversation, but found him staring over her head with a frown. Pandora tried to follow his stare, but there was nothing of interest on the wall behind her. 

“What? What’s wrong?” 

Evan shook his head clear, blinking rapidly. “I never considered that they could be exes. He said ‘old friends’ and I just assumed that was all there was to it.”

Pandora studied his expression closely as he spoke. He was genuinely caught off-guard by the possibility. While there was always a chance that she was wrong, her experience in psychotherapy said otherwise. Men especially tended to refer to exes as “old friends” to their new partners in an attempt to minimise their past relationship. There were a variety of motivations for it, but most often, they simply wanted to maintain contact with that ex without alerting their new partner.

“So, this Barty fellow told you that he flirted with her,” she checked, “and you didn’t think they were exes?”

“He can flirt with whoever he wants. Not that it matters to me, but no I didn’t make that connection when he was helping me get the interview.” Evan ducked his head, chin resting on his chest as his eyes flitted over the pavement in concentration. 

Well, either he and Evan really are just friends or it’s a situationship. None of my business, either way.

Pandora tucked her arm under his and tugged him forward. “Fair enough. Let’s find lunch.”

“Right,” he agreed. They made it a dozen steps before he turned that shit-eating grin on her again. “Don’t think I’ve forgotten about you and Lily, by the way. Best to spit out now than make me dig it out of you later.”

“Fine, but it’s not that exciting. Dorcas and I met her at a pub last week, and we kind of…hit it off.” 

Evan’s eyebrows shot up his forehead. “Hit it off? Did you…Pandora, tell the truth, did you sleep with her?”

“I may have spent the night at her house, yes,” she replied, lifting her chin defiantly. “I had no idea she was your boss though, I swear!”

“How does that even happ–”

“If it makes you feel any better,” Pandora interrupted, “I left her my number and asked her to call me, but she didn’t. I’d say it’s pretty clear she wasn’t expecting to see me again…probably ever.”

He hummed to himself, his teasing tone vanishing in a matter of seconds. “She was surprised, obviously, but I don’t think she was upset to see you. Just surprised.”

“Well, I don’t intend to show up again. This was a fluke. You and I will have to meet at the restaurant if we do lunch again.” Pandora steered him toward a cafe that advertised fresh scones, hoping food would distract him. “Let’s eat here. Smells good, right?”

“Why not ask her out properly?” he pressed, narrowing his eyes as they sat at an empty table. “If she was good enough in bed for you to give her your number, why avoid her now?”

Pandora opened the menu and ignored his questions. She didn’t think he’d understand her approach with Lily, or at least wouldn’t approve of it. Evan preferred straight forward, uncomplicated relationships with clearly defined parameters. Waiting on a potential partner to make a move was not his style.

“Oh, come on, ma crevette,” Evan crooned. He tapped the back of her hand persistently until she lowered the menu. “Are you a coward?”

“No, I’m accepting a rejection for what it is. Respecting her boundaries, etcetera.”

He hesitated, gaze flicking past her shoulder for a moment. “I know that whole setting boundaries thing is a big deal for you, but I really think you should ask her.”

“Evan–”

“No, listen! She’s clever and has a wicked sense of humour. Twice today, she’s had Remus and I fighting back laughter while she’s on the phone. I think you’d get on,” Evan insisted. 

Pandora allowed his words to settle in her mind, taking them at face value before analysing them. She seriously doubted that her brother would have suggested she ask out his boss if they hadn’t already met. There was an ulterior motive here…and then it hit her. “You’re afraid Barty is going to pursue her, aren’t you?”

“No! I told you, it doesn’t matter to me what he–” 

“Liar.”

[underyourspellfest]

We are excited to announce a new sapphic Harry Potter fest : Under Your Spell!

This is an anonymous fest that aims to highlight sapphic characters and ships in the Harry Potter universe as well as the music of queer women and other trans folks!

Song suggestions open : June 3rd Claiming opens : July 1st Works due : October 13th Posting begins : October 20th

Full information can be found on our GUIDELINES page! Stay tuned for more!

[daisiesnotroses]

A little mood board for my 8th year Pansmione fic 🌸

It includes:

🌸 Possessive Pansy

🌸 Secret relationship

🌸 WLW

🌸 Ron bashing

[pandalilymicrofics]

HIII, do you have some promts for october/kinktober maybe ???? i want write something but i need inspiration

TW: NSFW

I fully intended to post a Kinktober Prompt List, then had my arse handed to me by Covid and figured I’d missed my window to post it, but because you asked so nicely, here you go!

[k-starr-ent-ceo]

Veela Covenant - c. 3 - Vengeance

[hihimissamericanbi]

Enemies to lovers AND only one bed? Babe, you're speaking my favorite language here. Tell me more.

well hello there, snitchy snitch!!

Okay, picture this. Sapphic enemies to lovers. Wedding trope. Our MCs are the sister of the groom and sister of the bride. They have disliked each other from the moment they met, back when their siblings first started dating. One is "Miss Priss," the other is "Surly Girlie." Our story takes place at the bachelorette party, a weekend away at the beach. Both our MCs arrive late (so they are grumpy AF already) to find they have to share the only room left. and there's only one bed.

NOW. IS THIS NOT THE PERFECT PANSMIONE. Harry and Draco are getting married. Hermione and Pansy never mended things after the war; they still despise (read: are obsessed with) one another. Now, they've had to work together (ew) to plan this stupid joint bachelor trip for the whole crew. To top it all off, Pansy's portkey got cancelled last minute, and Hermione got caught up in a work emergency at the ministry (at least what I was doing was important, parkinson; sorry if I don't feel bad your fancy first-class portkey got bumped). They spend the first night in their shared bedroom bitching each other out and sleeping as far away from each other as they can get, rolled over to each side and huffing in exasperation.

Honestly this works great for any HP ship pairing. Jily having to work together to plan Wolfstar's bachelor trip. Wolfstar exes-to-lovers planning Jily or Jegulus' trip. Drarry planning Ginsy's. You get the idea.

Below the cut for more stream-of-consciousness fic, incl NSFW art from @upthehillart :D

@hpsaffics you're getting a tag here too :)))

After much description of hot girls in bathing suits (hermione's ass) (pansy's legs) and both of them just absolutely losing their minds over each others' bodies, with lots of sniping back and forth to cover up how embarrassingly into each other they are, they end up last ones at the muggle bar the second night, too tipsy to try apparating. Fuck it, granger, dance with me. Oh boy, do they DANCE. It's so fucking hot, they can't get enough of each other, the feel of their bodies close, their flesh beneath each others' hands, that LOOK in pansy's eyes that says I'm going to eat you alive and you're going to say thank you. But just before something drastic happens, like hermione putting her lips to pansy's neck like she's been wanting to for honestly a very long time, longer than she cares to admit, Harry bursts onto the dancefloor "there you are!!! we've been looking everywhere for you get in the uber right now!"

The spell is broken, and, faces beet red, they let harry drag them back to the air bnb. they take turns showering, being sure to change into pj's in the bathroom (Pansy in a giant band tee shirt and booty shorts, Hermione in a lace pink matching set). Hermione is tying her hair up in a specially-charmed silk scarf and going over some notes from work that got delivered by owl while they were out, and pansy thinks she's the loveliest thing she's ever seen. Pansy's caught staring. "what?" "nothing, granger." there's a pause, like maybe they each want to say more, but instead, pansy just turns out her light with her wand. "night, granger," she whispers.

There in the dark, they both lay on their backs, listening to each other breathe. they end up having a tension-filled, intense exchange where they are truly vulnerable with each other for the first time. apologies are given and accepted in the softest whispers. tentatively, pansy reaches out a hand beneath the covers, drags the back of her fingers gently over the soft skin of hermione's arm. "i really am. sorry. i never meant any of it. you." deep breath. "you're the most incredible girl I've ever met. I've always thought so."

and then--

Hermione moves with that intense decisiveness of hers. She rolls over, straddles pansy, grips her face and kisses her long and deep. Pansy opens her mouth to her instantly, and a stupid little moan escapes and it's the most pathetic sound she's ever made but she will make it again and again if it's hermione who pulls it from her. "Want you," Hermione whispers into pansy's neck, finally latching on and sucking, biting, coaxing blooming bruises of violet and and blue to her pale skin. She shoves her hands up underneath pansy's tee shirt, not an ounce of hesitation, grips her tits hard. kneads them, dances fingers over her nipples, seeing which touches elicit the most gasps from the beauty beneath her. pansy is arching and writhing with pleasure, and hermione grins into her mouth, wicked and brutal. The witch who kept a woman in a jar for months for slandering her friends, the witch who destroyed horcruxes and single-handedly kept two boys alive for the better part of seven years, the 20-something witch ruthlessly bulldozing over all the old white bureaucratic wizards at the ministry, is now the witch taking pansy apart inch by inch and fuck if pansy isn't thrilled to be broken by those powerful hands, sucked dry by plush lips, devoured by sharp teeth glinting in the moonlight as they sink into her skin over and over.

But Pansy has a few tricks up her own sleeve. She grips hermione with strong thighs and rolls them over, "Can I take off your scarf?" she breathes it her ear. "wanna pull your hair while i suck on your tits." Hermione whimpers and pulls her scarf off and pansy gathers those fucking curls into her fist and pulls, careful of course not to damage the curl pattern. Pansy licks a long stripe up her now-bared neck and over her ear, then whispers, "pull your top down. let me see." Hermione obeys, of course she obeys, pansy is commanding and relentless and if pansy wants to look hermione will let her. she fingers a strap of her camisole down off one shoulder, skims her fingertips over the top of her breast, just over the nipple still hidden beneath the fabric. Pansy's mouth is dry and her cunt throbs as she anticipates finally getting a glimpse of her nipple, already hard and poking through the silk and lace. "all the way," pansy murmurs. "take it out. show it to me." hermione whines and squirms and finally digs her hand all the way in and pulls out her breast, so fucking full and delicious with large brown nipples that beg to be kissed, so of course pansy does. Pansy looses her patience and pulls the camisole all the way down, exposing both breasts to her gaze and her wandering hands. she dives in, laving attention all across hermione's warm skin, nipping and licking and sucking and groping. her hips have started grinding down against hermione's pelvis, and hermione is arching up to meet her. "wanna make you come," pansy growls between hermione's tits. "how do you like it?" hermione stills, and pansy looks up. "um," hermione bites her lip. pansy kisses it out from behind her teeth. "yes, baby? what do you want? let me give it to you." Hermione take a deep breath. "i thought i was going to have my own room. i may have brought a few... toys." "oh, like what?" Hermione rolls over, digs around her her bag by the bed, and shyly pulls out an ENTIRE FUCKING STRAP. The magic kind that connects sensations from the strap to the wearer's clit. "I was hoping i might get lucky, going out and everything this weekend." Pansy's speechless. "Would you, um, let me fuck you with it?" hermione asks, big brown eyes wide and hopeful.

Cut to, pansy on all fours, legs kicked wide, ass up, facing the mirror by the bed, watching hermione completely naked and fucking her with her cock, her curves bouncing and slapping with every thrust, the sounds wet and loud and crude, mixing with Pansy's gasps over and over and over. Pansy's tee is shoved up by hermione's demanding hand; she's gripping the skin of her shoulder, her other fist burying in Pansy's hip and pulling her back onto her dick even as she fucks into her, hard and deep and fast. Hermione is strong and her grip bruises and Pansy couldn't move if she wanted to. "M close," Hermione murmurs. "yes, yes, yes," pansy chants in reply, all other words fucked right out of her brain. "touch yourself for me, baby, wanna watch you come first." but when pansy collapses down to one shoulder so she can use her other hand to rub her clit, she gasps in shock. Hermione has wordlessly and wandlessly charmed her fingers to vibrate. pansy shouts when her charmed fingers makes contact with her aching clit, swollen and needy from what feels like a lifetime of getting handled by hermione fucking granger. just a few passes through her folds and over her clit has Pansy shaking and coming with a muffled scream, Hermione following right behind her, the force of her orgasm plunging her cock even harder into pansy's pulsing cunt. it kicks off a second orgasm for pansy, back to back, and she screams and screams until hermione finally pulls out and gather pansy into her arms, shushing her and smoothing her hair.

They clean each other up take turns in the bathroom, and fall asleep in each other's arms.

maybe this wedding won't be so bad after all.

ps: below is my headcanon depiction of pansmione from a fic i cannot recommend enough . Art and fic both by @upthehillart

watch out the girls are naked and hot

[hpsapphicvalentines]

💗REVEALS DAY SIX💗

✨Written in the Stars✨

Pairing: Pansy Parkinson/Hermione Granger

Prompt: A secret admirer

[sommerregenjuniluft]

@hpsaffics feb 3 - time loop - 1117words

aka fem bartylus in their bonnie and damon from season 5 of vampire diaries arc (i made myself cry with this but also i'm on my period so who knows ksfjf)

“Hey, look,” Barty says, her head popping up over one of the grocery store shelves, “The small, pickled corn cobs you like so much are on Sale.”

Regulus doesn’t have to look up to see the shit eating grin stretching her lips as she holds up the jars of pickled corn with the impossible to miss, red SALE stickers that have been there for every single day of the past 3 months. She simply rolls her eyes and turns to grab an OJ out of the cooler, like she does every Saturday morning. Regulus believes in keeping a weekly and daily schedule in favor of not going insane, thanks a lot.

There’s a noise across the empty store that sounds like Barty put two of the jars into the shopping cart.

Regulus sniffs, ignoring the flutter in her stomach as well as the sting deep inside her ribcage.

She goes about filling her own cart methodically, absentmindedly listening to Barty mucking about wherever she is. Humming under her breath, bags crinkling, the sounds of the cart clinking against stuff. Barty has great spatial awareness in any situation except for the grocery store. 

Regulus still feels last weekend in the tender bruises along her Achillies heel. If bruises stayed that long she’d have enough evidence from a year ago to build a real case. They do not, however, so Regulus is just left with the knowledge of it and that hollow feeling in her chest like someone had a big scoop and Regulus’ heart was a tub of Ben & Jerries.

She continues down the aisle in a bit of a daze. Eggs, oatmilk, protein bars, Earl Grey, Spaghetti and Fusilli because Barty is a fussy shithead that won’t eat other forms of pasta.

They meet again in the snack aisle, Regulus rounding the corner and finding Barty curled over her cart, studying the back of a honey puffs packet.

She’s gnawing on her bottom lips, rosy mouth pursed to the side and the line between her eyebrows deep and pulled low beneath her fringe and Regulus watches some of the longer brown hair slip over her shoulder and to the front. The round muscle is bare, freckled, and so are her arms because last week Barty made it her mission to go through Evan’s closet and cut off the sleeves of his every one of his t-shirts. 

Regulus had been furious. 

She misses him desperately. Pandora and Sirius, too. The very first night she’d slept in her best friend’s bed, clad in one of Sirius’ softest shirts. Regulus doesn’t remember a time she’d wept herself to sleep so harshly. 

Barty had come and gotten her after 32 hours of refusing to leave the room and dragged her into a shower before plopping her down on one of the kitchen bar stools and making pancakes for her. Whipped cream and blueberries on the side. And then she’d left to go wherever it is she goes every single morning after breakfast until she’s returning for lunch.

She slips the strand of silky straight hair behind her ear now and then glances up when Regulus advances farther into the aisle.

Their eyes meet for a moment, mint and blue gray, clashing, getting caught in each other. Hooks sinking in, ripping at the entangled spots, and when Regulus finds it in herself to break away she feels raw. Chafed. A hotly throbbing ache. Burning.

Regulus looks around in the shelves but she isn’t really seeing any of the things. It takes a moment and then she’s taken aback when she genuinely can’t find the Ritter Sports party mix. It should be right in front of her, nestled between the Kinder stuff and the no name rows of chocolate bars. There’s an empty space on the shelf where they should sit and Regulus blinks at that spot in confusion.

Before she can do more about it the cold metal of a shopping cart grazes Regulus’ naked calf, jolting her and making her look up at Barty where she’s come closer, still lazily draped over the handle of her cart, now sporting an amused expression.

Her smirk is horribly smug and sitting a little lopsided on her unfairly beautiful face, “Lookin’ for something, Black?”

Regulus opens her mouth to respond but then Barty props her chin in one of her palms and cocks her head at an exaggerated angle, pointedly letting her gaze wander over the shelf Regulus is standing in front of numbly. And then up.

Regulus blinks again and then follows her line of sight automatically. She sweeps her gaze back around and up and then spots the chocolates where they’re perched on the very top of the shelf. Neatly set up over the row of Reezes there. 

All the way up there and impossible for Regulus to reach.

Her favorite chocolates.

Barty had taken the time to put every last of Regulus’ favorite chocolates on the top of that shelf with such care for order she’s never once applied to their pantry in the months they’d lived together back when they were a couple.

Regulus feels her browns knit, eyes burning with anger and when she looks over she watches the smile on Barty’s face turn wider. That’s about all Regulus is able to take.

Her chin starts crinkling and she feels her lips start to wobble despite the way she’s biting down on the inside of her lower one hard enough to draw blood. There’s nothing Regulus can do against the tears shooting into her eyes and the way her throat starts to clog up before, pathetically, a single sob escapes her. 

And then she’s crying. Full on, shoulders shaking with it and Barty’s smile falls.

She looks properly panicked and the cart gets shoved to the side, colliding loudly with the opposite shelf, and then she’s there to pull Regulus into a hug.

Her head hangs uselessly as she weeps into the crook of Barty’s arm and chest, deep heaving sobs as Barty cradles her head and holds her tight by the shoulders.

“Hey, hey,” Barty mumbles, voice strained, “I’m sorry, Reg, I’m sorry. I’ll get them back down.”

Regulus uselessly ruts her face into the naked skin, tasting salty shame in the corners of her lips.

“Every single one of them, I’ll get them all down, baby. I’m sorry,” she whispers, breath hot on the crown of Regulus curls.

Regulus finds her hands fisted into the material of Barty’s shirt, clutching at it numbly while she tries to swallow the sobs, “I hate you.”

Barty nods above her, “I know, baby,” and if Regulus didn’t know any better she'd think she hears shame and regret mixed into the words. “I know.”

[katsitsiyo]

A million thanks and love to @youareprobablynott, whom I commissioned to create this stunning #Fleurmione piece, bc I’ve been brainrotting about this pair for the past couple months. 😍😍

It’s so so beautiful, I’m just in love with it. 🥰🥰💗💗🫶🫶

[schmem14]

Panicked

@sapphicmicrofics​​​​​​

Pairing: Hermione Granger/Pansy Parkinson Rating: T WC: 50

*****

Peeves made her do it.  How else can Hermione explain the panicked fumble as she shoves Pansy into the nearest broom closet, mid-argument? Pansy is infuriating, the way her perfume fills the space, the way her body feels pressed against Hermione as their continued fight descends into harsh, biting kisses. 

[thebibutterflyao3]

“Leave Him”

@pandalilymicrofics - 601 words

It was a running joke between them for years.

Whenever Lily came into work ranting about her husband’s latest mishap with his friends - an explosive experiment in their kitchen or run-in with muggle police - Pandora teasingly told her to “leave him and run away with me.”

When her own husband printed an embarrassing article in his magazine - questioning celebrity identities or the existence of alien creatures - Lily bumped her hip and said, “You should leave him and open a flower shop with me.”

They were friends. Coworkers at a prestigious potioneers’ lab in Diagon Alley that luncheoned together every week day, shared meaningful looks, and met up for play dates every Sunday at the park with their kids. Harry and Luna were fast friends from their first meeting, when Harry took Luna’s hand and gently led her to the swings.

It was a joke, until it wasn’t.

Pandora stared at Lily in astonishment, her hands trembling against Lily’s waist. She followed Lily into the loo after she’d walked into the office with tears streaming down her cheeks. No words were needed. Pandora didn’t require an explanation to offer comfort.

Then, Lily kissed her. It wasn’t friendly. It was real.

Every platonic thought flew from her mind. The world’s axis tilted the opposite direction, yet still rotated around the same ball of sunshine, Lily. It always was and forever would be Lily.

“What…happened?” Pandora asked, resisting the urge to flee from the volcano of emotions bubbling to the surface. Feelings that she’d repressed for so long now overwhelmed her all at once.

“I ended it,” Lily said, half-sobbing. Her warm hands framed Pandora’s face. “We tried an open relationship for a while, hoping it would fix things. I’ve felt guilty that I couldn’t be as intimate as he wanted, as he needed, really. He found someone who could and I couldn’t continue playing along. I was holding him back, holding myself back.”

Pandora sagged against her, trying to find the right words. To figure out how to describe all of these feelings that she’d boxed up and hidden away. She never thought she could have this. It was a fantasy that she enjoyed in her own mind, a little moment of escapism before returning to reality. Returning to a life that was satisfying, but unfulfilled.

“You don’t have to say anything. I just had to…I don’t know.” Lily’s hands began to slip away, her chin dropping to her chest. “Show you how much I love you? Is that a daft thing to say to a married woman?”

Pandora caught her wrists and lifted Lily’s hands back to where they belonged, cradling her face. She closed her eyes and leaned into Lily’s warmth. This was what she wanted, what she needed. Her own needs were long ago abandoned to care for Luna, but now…now that Lily was here and felt the same way? I can’t lose her.

“Lily, if you’re daft for loving me, then I’m equally daft for loving you,” she said, leaning in to press a soft kiss to her lips. Against those lips, Pandora whispered, “We will make this work, I promise.”

“I can’t ask you for this, Pandora. You’re happy with Xeno and have Luna—”

Pandora hushed her gently and wrapped her arms around the curves that she’d only ever dreamed about holding. “Lily, you make me happy. Besides, I think even Xeno, oblivious as he is, saw this coming. He’s hinted at us seeing other people so many times.”

“Please,” Lily pleaded, hugging her tight. “Don’t let me ruin your life.”

“As if you ever could.”

[underyourspellfest]

Picturing you

Ship : Narcissa/Lily Rating : Explicit Song : Touching Yourself by Japanese House Summary : “I was wondering if you saw the package I dropped off this morning,” Lily continued, after a few moments of silence. “Mhm,” Narcissa hummed, hardly acknowledging the words at all. Certainly not registering the fact that Lily had been there at her house while she was gone. “Looks p-pretty.” “Cissy,” Lily said knowingly. “Are you — fuck.” “Lily,” Narcissa replied, pushing two fingers inside of herself and pumping slowly. If she thought she was close before, it was nothing compared to how close she was now, with Lily whispering her name, muttering ‘fuck’ like that. “I miss you.” Medium : Fic Creator : onehundredflamingos

[daisiesnotroses]

Comment your favourite sapphic pair that doesn’t have enough works written about them and I might provide! 🌸

[ashesandhackles]

(belated) Happy Birthday @bluethepineapple

A fleurmione moodboard and (smutty) drabble:

A warm hand on the wings of her back.

Her face, pressed to the pillow, strands of her hair clinging to each other, glistening with sweat.

"Hermione," she murmured, her trembling fingers curling into an open fist. She could hear the sea, a comforting lullaby to their lovemaking.

Ringlets of Hermione's hair tickled the nape of her neck. The place, her grand-mère said, where the wings are born. Such a shame grand-mère, had told her, that you won't be able to fly.

Fleur's eyes had stung with angry tears then. How cruel grand-mère, she had thought. To be only gifted powers that lured men but given no wings to escape them!

Her eyes swam with tears now too, Hermione's explorative caress making her alert to sensations, colours bobbing like sea creatures behind her closed eyes. There was an ache of wings not yet born, a shadow of flight cleaved between her legs.

Hermione held her loosely curled fist, interlocking their fingers together. Her body pressed onto her back, her fingers roaming to where stars were trapped. Fleur gasped, a staccato of sounds, as white-hot sparks fanned out from the base of her spine to rest of her body, little constellations dotted underneath her skin.

It was a surrender in the shipwreck, a body rocking to the rhythm of the wind on the sea.  There was more, more, more to fall. 

Hermione, flushed with triumph, brought her to surface with a kiss. 

Ao3

For more Fleurmione content: The Dying Hearth series by Blue

[k-starr-ent-ceo]

Wildest Dreams - STRAP update.

Chapter 3: Peers Potlucks and Proclamations, Oh My

[hihimissamericanbi]

Be Mine: A Homecoming B-Side

Pairing: Dorcas Meadowes / Marlene McKinnon Rating: E Wordcount: 4,531 Co-Authored by MissAmericanBi and @thisliminalspacedaydreams

It’s a set to end all sets. In an underground kink club, less than a hundred people present, Marlene plays like the world is ending. And it is—for her. Or rather, it narrows. Tunnel vision, she starts putting shapes on the rest of her life, and it looks like the features of the girl in the front row, on the left.

The man puts his arm around the girl, confident as a peacock, and Marlene smirks.

Oh, she really does like ruining lives.

Read more on AO3

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Happy Valentine's Day to all our most beloveds. Please enjoy Homecoming Dorlene's origin story.

(Of course it was at a kink club.)