#kiss the wizard in the rain

[calluna-dekarios-dellamorte]

Rainy wizard love.

[ultravioletbrit]

“rain” - Jegulus microfic - @into-the-jeggyverse - 248 words

James flies across the pitch to hover beside Regulus.

“We should go down, Reg.” James shouts.

“What? Don’t like flying in the rain, Potter? Scared you’ll slip off your broom?” Regulus teases.

“No. Just don’t fancy getting struck by lightning, Regulus.” James says and Regulus rolls his eyes.

“We’re not going to get struck–”

CRACK

Lightning flashes across the sky and Regulus’ eyes go wide for a second and James lifts an eyebrow at him.

“Fine. We can go down.” Regulus huffs and flies towards the ground without waiting for James.

James lands a few seconds after Regulus and gets off his broom to stand right in front of him.

“You’re so stubborn.” James shakes his head.

“And you’re no fun.” Regulus says.

“Oh, really?” James smirks and grabs Regulus’ hand to pull him closer. Regulus goes willingly and they gaze into each other’s eyes for a moment then James’ eyes flick down to Regulus’ lips.

“You gonna kiss me in the rain, Potter? How very cliché of you.”

“You don’t want me to?” James starts to pull away. “That’s fine, I’ll–” Regulus pulls him back before James can finish his sentence.

“James, if you do not kiss me right now, I swear–” Regulus cuts himself off when he sees James grinning. “What?”

“You called me James.” James swoons.

Regulus rolls his eyes and starts to pull away but James pulls him back. They crash their lips together and kiss in the rain in the middle of the quidditch pitch.

[p1325]

[remmilie]

Few things make me as crazy as an artist having one incredible song that is completely apart from the rest of their discography. How am I supposed for find another song that gives me these vibes if EVEN YOU DONT KNOW HOW TO DO IT MORE THAN ONCE???

[pretty-little-mind33]

fluff ✿ angst ✮ hurt & comfort ✷ smut (nsfm) ♥︎

main masterlist

disclaimer — i enjoy fandom created harry potter content but i DON'T support j.k rowling in any way!!

~ REQUESTS CLOSED ~

most popular - WILDEST DREAMS ✿ - Finding out that your ex-best friend might have smelt you in the Amortentia feels as surreal as you smelling him.

author's favorite - SAY DON'T GO ✿✮✷ - When your long-term boyfriend is slipped a love potion—he loses his memory of you.

latest work - THE PROPHECY ✮ - A dangerous mission puts James's life at risk. You're consumed by worry and fear as you wait for news of what happened to your husband.

~ BLURB MASTERLIST ~

~ KINKTOBER 2024 ~

~ SKY'S 3K CELEBRATION ~

~ HEADCANONS ~

fem!reader with an abusive ex

fem!reader who is in a relationship with him

fem!reader who is nervous about the gym

fem!reader pulling on his tie

~ FICS ~

James x debutant!reader

KING OF MY HEART ✿ - You and James are friends with benefits until daisies and an incident with one asshole Quidditch player stirs up some hidden (or not-so-hidden) feelings.

MAROON ✿ - James usually doesn't like violence but he'll fight anyone who bad-mouths his girlfriend.

LAVENDER HAZE ♥︎ - Having a thing for your best friend's dad was your dirty little secret. Up until it wasn't so secret anymore.

THIS LOVE ✿ - Sometimes your lovely boyfriend can have a hard time with the word 'no'.

HOW YOU GET THE GIRL ✿✷✮ - You've never had your first kiss — well not until you stupidly kiss the boy you've had a crush on since forever, the same boy who happens to be your best friend.

FOOLISH ONE ✮ - James was and would never be yours.

TIMELESS ✿✷ - James wants to take you out to one of his families' fancy parties. However, he underestimates how cruel people can be when someone is different.

ENCHANTED ✿ - Three weeks after his devastating break up with Lily, James wanted Remus and Sirius to bring him to a muggle bar in central London. Prequel to Timeless

SWEETER THAN FICTION ✿ - After months of dating, James finally tells you he's a wizard. Pt. 2 of Enchanted

YOU ARE IN LOVE ✿ - You never realized how much of an idiot your brother's best friend is until he becomes jealous.

GLITCH ♥︎ - You never intended to admit you would fuck James Potter. You hate him. Well, turns out you hate him a little less when he's touching you in ways you'd only dreamed of.

STAY BEAUTIFUL ✿✷- When you overhear some of James's friends comment on your weight, James comforts you.

SANTA BABY ✿ - James wants to make his family's Christmas special.

SNOW ON THE BEACH ✿✷ - When your eleven-year-old son comes home for Christmas break in tears, you and James are instantly worried.

NEW ROMANTICS ✿✷ - When your "friends" play a dangerously stupid prank on you, James is the last person you'd think would help you.

COLD AS YOU ✷✮ - You want your boyfriend's attention again.

I THINK HE KNOWS ♥︎ - Your boyfriend promises to watch over you when you want to get drunk.

BEGIN AGAIN ✿ - James has been persuing you for years and you've never said yes, until now?

END GAME ✿✷ - Playing Quidditch against your secret boyfriend is usually fun…

GOLD RUSH ✿✷✮ - You're a stupid drunk and James Potter is very very bad at dealing with his romantic feelings.

DAYLIGHT ♥︎ - When your boyfriend finds out he didn't make you come, his anger quickly turns into lust.

THE ALCOTT ✮ - You love James but he loves Lily. It's simple until it isn't so simple anymore.

SUBURBAN LEGENDS ✿✷ - James tries to teach you how to ice skate — in the same universe as Dear Reader

SAY DON'T GO ✿✮✷ - When your long-term boyfriend is slipped a love potion—he loses his memory of you.

SO HIGH SCHOOL ✿ - You have a massive crush on James. One you didn't think would ever lead anywhere until a drunken party in the Gryffindor Common Room.

"SLUT!" ♥︎ - Your brother's best friend teaches you pleasures you've never experienced before.

I CAN SEE YOU ✷✿ - James panics when he sees what his boggart is.

COME IN WITH THE RAIN ✷ - You comfort your darling boyfriend after an overwhelming sight at your muggle grandparents' house.

HIGH INFIDELITY ✷ - You'd kept your relationship with James a secret up until you couldn't anymore. Pt. 2 of Lavender Haze

GORGEOUS ♥︎ - You and James stumble upon an ancient book of spells rumored to enhance pleasure.

DEAR READER ✿ - You wait for your boyfriend after his game — In the same universe as Suburban Legends

PAPER RINGS ✿ - James is the best boyfriend while you're sick.

CHRISTMAS TREE FARM ✿ - You and James bake gingerbread cookies.

THE PROPHECY ✮ - A dangerous mission puts James's life at risk. You're consumed by worry and fear as you wait for news of what happened to your husband.

[satosuguwifee]

Love Sick — Satoru Gojo x F!reader

Synopsis: Who would have thought that the strongest sorcerer would be like a clingy kitten when he caught a cold?

Contents: Fluff, lovebirds, cliché.

Y/n wouldn't have imagined that one day she would see her boyfriend, the strongest wizard, on her doorstep, totally sly, clingy and needy, when he caught a cold after going cycling with Suguru and they both got soaked by the rain on the way.

— Y/N… Where are you? — he called to her in a gentle way and, as soon as the girl appeared at the edge of the door, a little smile appeared on her slightly cracked lips. — Y/n, stay here with me…

He said in a slightly hoarse voice, coughing a little after forcing his throat to call her and as soon as he saw her enter the room and take steps towards him, a big smile appeared on his lips and he stretched out his arms expecting a hug.

But his happy expression quickly turned to a frown when she just placed the back of her hand against his forehead, checking his temperature.

— For heaven's sake, you're boiling with fever, Satoru! — the voice filled with concern reached the white-haired teenager's ears and a small smile appeared at the display of concern. — Come on, let's cool you down.

S/n then helped Satoru out of bed, who just mumbled as he hugged her when he stood up, his face buried in the crook of her neck and she could even hear a small purr coming from him, but she didn't know if it was actually some kind of purr or just the phlegm in his lungs.

— Toruu, come on! I don't want your fever to get worse.

She said, and he reluctantly let go of her and let himself be guided to the bathroom, shivering a little as the cold air of the bathroom came into contact with his body, and it got a little worse when he stood under the warm water.

Satoru then looked at his girlfriend distracted by some medicine and then smiled as an idea came into his mind. He then wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her towards him, leaving her under the shower with him.

— AAAAH, SATORU! FUCK! — she turned her face over her shoulder and looked at him angrily, but her anger subsided a little when she saw his cheek against her shoulder, his eyes closed and a little smile on his lips. — Damn, it's impossible to be angry with you in this state.

— Heh, I know you love me.

He said and at the same time his arms tightened around her waist, which made the girl sigh and then kiss him on the forehead, which made him smile even more and then he spun her around to face him, grabbing her clothes that were sticking to her body and shaping her curves.

— Wow, I have such a hot girlfriend… Not more than me, of course. — he says this, waggling his eyebrows up and down with that corner smile of his before leaning in to kiss his beloved girlfriend, only to feel not her lips but Y/n's cheek. — Hey!

— You're sick Satoru, I'm sorry but I don't feel like getting sick either.

He gave another sulky pout, but nodded begrudgingly before hugging her tightly again and burying his face in her shoulder, not letting go of her for the world, which meant that Y/n had the little challenge of giving him a bath with him totally attached to her, like a koala baby.

Satoru let out a sigh as he snuggled his head even closer against his girlfriend's chest, her nose being gently stroked by his silky hair while her gaze focused on the television in her room as they watched another episode of Digimon.

Her hand stroked the back of his head, her fingers tangling lightly against his strands and making him shiver slightly and smile a little.

— You know I love you, right? — he asked as he opened one of his eyes, looking at the love of his life who was also looking at him.

— Who doesn't love me, hm? — she replied in the same way he normally would, which made him laugh a little and pinch the tip of her nose as he leaned in to kiss her cheek.

— I'm serious Y/n… I want to marry you someday.

That line took her by surprise since they've only been dating for a year and a few months, and she smiled when she saw that he had plans with her. Well, that would be if he wasn't hallucinating because of his fever, which, although it had gone down, was still present.

The girl just smiled and nodded, removing one of the strands of his hair that was stuck to his forehead.

— Well, I accept your request, Satoru. I really didn't expect you to be someone I'd want to marry someday, but you're just a pretty boy who takes advantage of that to seduce the faint-hearted.

— Thanks for the part about me Y/n. — he says wryly, then nudges her forehead. — And you happened to be one of those girls, weren't you? Actually, I think I was the one who became faint-hearted after meeting you.

He smiled again and was soon lying on top of his girlfriend, crushing her with his weight and starting to slowly kiss her cheek while caressing her waist, his cold fingers against her warm waist sending shivers down her body.

— We both got Satoru.

She confessed, kissing the top of his head and smiling as soon as she saw that he smiled too, tiredness soon taking over and his body relaxing as he fell asleep and now Y/n was admiring her boyfriend's face, smiling at his slightly flushed cheeks and giving him one last kiss on the tip of his nose before turning her attention back to the TV.

✧₊⁺ Extra:

— Speed it up Suguru, I don't want to ruin my flat iron!

Satoru says ironically to his best friend, who just lets out a muffled laugh and rolls his eyes as he continues pedaling in search of somewhere with some protection.

— You say that because you have your Infinity, Satoru. I'm sure that if you got soaked, Y/n would spoil you for the rest of the night.

The black-haired boy says and smiles in a corner, knowing that mentioning the girl of Satoru's dreams is his greatest weakness. The white-haired boy was strangely silent, his light blue eyes shining from under his sunglasses until he deactivated his Infinity and let the rain soak his entire body.

— I can't believe you actually did that. You're quite a simp prod, aren't you?

— I'm not a simp, I'm just a man in love!

— That's what a simp would say!

— Oh, shut up Suguru!

Satoru says with a frown, which deepened when he heard Suguru's laugh, which made the white-haired boy blush a little. But just imagining his beautiful girlfriend taking care of him with such love and affection had him on cloud nine again, eager to get to her house.

[reocidal]

DESTINY — O. MIYA

cws; swearing, gn?reader, just fluff...!

wc; 713

osamu miya.

he's the type to cook for you, always. like, regardless of how well you can cook, or how different your schedules are.

"what time will you be up?" he asks.

"6:15."

and he'll be there cooking your breakfast already.

that's not to say you don't experience lazy mornings, either, when osamu has his arms wrapped loosely around you, and your legs are tangled together. when sometimes you talk about everything, and other times you talk about nothing, and he kisses your shoulder and you kiss his hands. he's warm, too, warm enough that you're kicking the covers off yourself and scooting away from him once you're awake enough. he's undeterred, though, following you around like a determined puppy until you finally give in and let him pull you back into his chest.

he's the type to absolutely smush your cheeks together when he kisses them; he definitely loves kissing your cheeks. he also loves nose kisses!!! he adores your nose — your everything, really, he just loves you a lot.

he loves chauffeuring you around, like hell YEAH he's your man and he will do everything for you. on slower days, he probably like, drives with one hand and uses the other to hold on to your hand or just rests it on your thigh.

speaking of which! this man is HUGE on physical contact. it's nothing too showy, and it doesn't really matter if you're in public or not. like, he ALWAYS holds your hand, everywhere! or has a pinky hooked around yours if you can't do that! OR OR OR when it's cold, he holds your hand and tucks it into his pocket along with his own.

adding onto the when will you wake up thing, when the two of you didn't live together he'd make sure he was awake before you so you could see a good morning text when you woke up, whether you woke up super early or super late.

when osamu falls in love, he falls so fucking hard. this man gets you flowers and keeps one for himself so he knows when to get you new ones. he buys you coffee every day and has a picture of you in his wallet, and a polaroid in his phone case. when you start living together, he writes you stupid lovey dovey notes and sticks them around everywhere. he even does the notes app thing and he knows everything you like. his wallpaper and lockscreen are both pictures of you, and he unironically has an i love my partner tshirt. probably more than one, if i'm being honest.

he lazes around in bed with you when you want, and has all your favourite movies downloaded everywhere, just in case. want to watch a new movie? he's bought the tickets before you even ask. he takes you to libraries and bookstores, and he dances with you in the rain, and goes on walks with you, and he's just so perfect, even when he's not. and he thinks — no, he knows you're perfect, even if you think otherwise.

he's SO good at comforting you. if you don't want to talk, that's okay! he'll hold you until you feel better, or until you're ready to tell him. or he can distract you with the stupidest small talk, if that's what you need. and he knows exactly what to say, always. he understands you, in silence and frustration and grief and pain. when you're okay, and when you're not. and whatever happens, he's always there for you.

and he's not a poet, and all he really knows is volleyball and cooking, but he swears you're some sort of wizard, because everything you do and everything you say is magic, and he's never been more enamoured by anyone, ever. if love is a person, it's you.

he's never believed in soulmates, but he knows he's made for you, made to love you, made to be yours. he's never really believed in things like fate either, but if he's destined to spend the rest of his life like this, with you, he thinks he could learn to live with it. but that's a lie, really, because he's not just okay with it. he's actually so fucking down to have you as his forever.

WSG UR FAVOURITE ACADEMIC WEAPON WITH THE COOLEST CHILLEST MOM EVER HAS POSTED rubs hands together evilly PLEASE LIKE FOLLOW REBLOG AND OR COMMENT IF YOU LIKE IT REALLY MEANS A LOT TO ME!!!

[lostinlovingrevery]

Prince Charming

Old Man Logan X F!Reader

Plot: He's really no Prince Charming, but he is to you, and you'll treat him like one too.

A/N: I really just wanted to write old man Logan being taken care of...and also being a little softer because he had someone taking care of him...I just want to give him a hug (and other things...)

Warnings: Smut (18+ only!!), Oral (M recieving), Fluff too!! reader gives Logan a massage (in more ways than one ;) ) pet names like princess and baby used, reader loves Logan a lot, a small section of angst but not really?

Word Count: 2401

Soft jazz played in the background as candlelight flickers against the wall of your…bedroom- if you could call it that. Curtains pulled over large windows, fluffy rugs on the floor, a few pieces of furniture placed carefully around the room, with pictures and decorations and a lamp that gave the room a warm, soft lighting- creating an inviting atmosphere that was nothing but welcoming and cozy. The sound of a shower running in the background added to the relaxing atmosphere that you managed to create inside of a smelting plant. 

So, was living in an abandoned factory what you imagined you would be doing when you grew up? Not exactly; especially considering you’d always wanted a castle… an old smelting plant can be kinda like a castle, right?

But, did you get that ‘prince charming’ you always dreamed of?

Well…maybe not everyone would call him Prince Charming…

But you did. Handsome, brave, intelligent. He was someone you’d always dreamed of sweeping off your feet and he did exactly that. Your Prince Charming has adamantium bones, lived over 200+ years (he probably met your great grandfather!), and is the crankiest motherfucker some days when there’s rain coming and his old metal bones get a little rusty and needed oiling like Tin man from Wizard of Oz (Did he see that when it first came out in 1939?). You adored him, and everything else was noise. 

Maybe Charles questioned your taste in men one time when he was feeling a little moody- but what does he know? He had a situationship with a guy who controls metal, and was, by the way, a bit of a nut.

You were curled up in your shared bed reading a book. When you first moved in- and eventually began sleeping in a shared bed, his bed had torn sheets, flat pillows, and a blanket that barely covered his large figure. He didn’t necessarily see an issue with that- but once you surprised him with memory foam pillows, silk bed sheets, and a huge soft duvet, he quickly changed his tune. He’d come home from a long night at work, collapse into the bed, and his aching bones would melt into the mattress as he’d fall asleep almost immediately, you’d wake up in the night- tucking him in at your side and kiss him on the cheek, and go back to sleep.

That’s what you did, you took care of him all the ways he didn’t take care of himself.

You heard the shower turn off, and in a moment Logan came in, towel wrapped low around his hips, his hair wet on his forehead, and he pushed the wet strands back as he walked to the dresser that sat parallel to the bed. You bit your lip as you admired his figure, watching water dripping down his hairy chest and abs, as your eyes trailed down to the prominent vein that disappeared below the hem of the towel, curse that towel.

“I did your laundry today-” You informed him, snapping out of your lustful state, and he looked at you, the corners of his eyes crinkled, and a warm smile came across his face.  

“Thanks princess.” He says in a low voice, walking over to you and leaning over to give you a peck on the lips- something you happily returned, settling on your knees to meet him halfway. He groaned as he attempted to straighten back out.

“You alright?”

“Yeah.” He grumbled, hand going to his back, “Back s’just killing me from sitting in that damn car all the time.” 

You look at him sympathetically, when an idea strikes your head. You crawl backward and patted the bed. “C'mon, lay down.” You say. He raised a brow, unsure of what you wanted, 

“Feeling frisky baby?” He grinned, and you rolled your eyes- but you couldn’t help your smile. Maybe you were, but that wasn’t what you were planning. Yet. 

Shaking your head, you patted the bed again, “Lay on your belly. Off with the towel too” You say. He gave you a questioning look once more, but eventually obliged. You were never one to do something he wouldn’t have enjoyed anyway. He dropped the towel, giving you a nice view of his member, before he climbed onto the bed, and landing on his stomach; He wrapped his arms around a pillow, face planting into it as he waited for you to do whatever shenanigan you were planning for him. You smiled at his resting figure, reaching over to pinch one of his buttocks

“Ay!” He growled. You giggled, holding your hands up to show you wouldn’t do it again, and returned to your task. 

Reaching over, you grabbed your favorite scented lotion, before moving to straddle his back, around his waist. He let out a soft groan, not because of the weight of you- it was slightly comforting to have the pressure of you there, relieving some tense muscles over where you sat. 

Flipping the cap of the lotion off, you squeezed a generous amount onto your hands, clasping them and rubbing the lotion into them, before you placed your hands on Logan's shoulders. You gasped at just how knotted and tense they felt- you’d think the shower would have loosened him up a bit…

He let out a small groan as you pushed and pulled at the muscles in his shoulder, slowly- but surely, you began to loosen the knots as you massaged the lotion into his skin. Using different techniques, like rubbing your thumbs in circles in various spots- that really made him groan, something that sounded almost erotic. You grinned, as your hands moved down to his shoulder blades and upper back.

“Keep moaning like that and even Caliban and Charles will hear you.” You comment, he grunted.

“Let em, I don’t care.” He mutters into his pillow, turning his head so you could understand him. A small giggle escaped you, as you continued your ministrations over his back, palming at tense points and working at his large muscles, thumbs pressing into knots and loosening them, you ran your nails up and down his back- scratching the skin that sent shivers through his whole body. 

You admired the scars on his skin; as you felt every ridge and bump as you ran your hands over his back and up his arms. You knew it wasn’t a good thing, that he doesn’t quite heal like he used to. You still saw them as a part of him, a beautiful part of him that made him a survivor, that kept him alive and kept him coming back to you. You didn’t know how close it would be before those wounds couldn’t heal up, when he may not make it home. You weren’t one to worry about the future though- not when he was here with you now, and you could take care of him the way he deserved. 

You worked him over for an hour, and at one point you were pretty sure he fell asleep, waking up after and claiming he didn’t fall asleep. You sat up on your knees, and gently pat his side, urging him to now roll on his back, which he does so in a slow movement. 

“That was great baby.” He muttered, his eyes half-lidded, and his large hands moved to rest on your thighs that hugged his waist as you sat back to straddle his waist. You smiled, leaning forward to kiss his forehead, pressing your hands to his chest. 

“I’m not done yet.” You say softly, kissing the tip of his nose, and then his lips. Your hands smoothed down his chest and over his stomach, your fingers twining through his coarse chest hair. You ran your nails down the skin- making his stomach flex in reaction and you grinned. 

“Enjoying yourself?” He asks at the sight of your amusement. You smiled down at him and nodded, before moving your hips- grinding against him. Something serious came across his face, as his hands began to squeeze your thighs, leaving dimples in the skin. You rolled your hips again, and you could feel him getting harder underneath you. “So you were just getting frisky hm?”

“I’m just taking care of you Lo-” You say innocently, fluttering your eyelashes at him, you wiggle your hips down, shuffling down his body, where you start pressing kisses over his chest. Your eyes looked up at him as you ran a tongue over his nipple, eliciting a muffled groan as he tightened his jaw, and squeezed his eyes shut, chest rising and falling as he felt anticipation surge through him at every touch you pressed on him. You moved down his stomach, reaching the vein you were staring at earlier, sticking your tongue out, you licked down it- right to his pelvis, and he let out a shaky breath.

You felt slick between your legs at the sound of Logan becoming worked up. He always acts like the boss, the protector, and the provider. The moment you go down on him though, treating him like the prince you saw him as he melts in your arm like putty, appreciating the soft tenderness you give him, and the care you take to make sure everything feels good for him- that he enjoyed you the way you enjoy him. It turned you on hearing what you do to him.

“You’re something else, princess…” He mutters under his breath. You grinned against his skin, as you took in the smell of him, he smelled of cedar and whiskey, the scent of a soap you got him a while back. You bit the skin of his pelvis, making him thrust forward with a groan, as you soothe it over with your tongue. Your hands continued running up and down his belly, as you finally made contact with his erect member. You licked your lips as you sized him up. He was large, the prominent vein from his stomach traveling up to a swollen red tip that leaked a generous amount of precum- beautiful

Logan was an old man, but you never had trouble getting him up. 

Planting yourself between his legs on your belly, you kicked your legs playfully behind you as you took his member in your hand, tapping his tip against your lips, before sticking your tongue out, licking the vein from the bottom of his shaft to the top, as your other hand fondled his balls. He groaned. 

“You like playing with me don’t ya princess?” He rasped, sitting himself up on his elbows so he could get a nice view of you and watch as you took care of him.

You smiled sinfully up at him, and you felt his cock twitch in your hand. His lips parted as he took you in before him, his eyes full of lust. “I’m just helping you not be so tense baby.” You cooed, beginning to stroke his member up and down, he tipped his head back, as you began stroking faster, before taking his tip between your lips, swirling around him and moaning at the taste of him on your tongue. You never truly enjoyed the taste of someone until you met him, and some days it felt like you couldn’t get enough. 

His hand went to your cheek, carefully caressing it- before reaching to pull your hair out of your face- holding it back for you as you worked over him. 

“Look at you darling, so damn pretty…How’d an old man like me get someone like you?” He muttered. You took him deeper into your mouth, slowly working your tongue around him, as spit began to dribble down your chin as you messily sucked him off. He moaned, his hips moving forward, his length going deeper into your mouth, his tip nearly at the back of your throat. You knew he was getting desperate, eager- just barely holding back from shoving you down on him and forcing you to take him completely. You moaned at the thought, eyes rolling back. “Fuck, you feel so good, princess.” He breathed, his voice losing that deep timber, wavering- signaling to you that he was getting closer. 

Your hands braced against his thighs, as you took him in fully down your throat, gagging a bit before you force yourself to swallow, allowing you to bob up and down on his throbbing cock without as much trouble. His hand that held your hair back set the desired pace as he brought you back up to his tip, and down the base, where your eyes began to water, as his very hairy crotch tickled your nose. He was panting, and you now let him take over, as spit covered you chin and his cock, he began thrusting his hips up into your mouth. You felt his thighs begin to shake, and he was cursing under his breath before finally pulling you down over him- head tipped back, a loud curse escaping him, and you felt hot spurts of his cum going down your throat. The pure sight of him was enough to make your legs shake, your stomach tensing as small spasms of an orgasm ran through your body. He let go of your hair, body shaky as you continued to suck him until he rode through his orgasm, and pulled off of him with a pop. You licked your lips, wiping your chin off of the spit. 

He fell back onto the bed, a groan escaping him as he brought his hand up to his face, running it down.

“Fuck princess, you’re something else.” He mutters, and you clambered over him, giving him a sweet kiss. “I love you.” He says softly, bringing his hand up to cup your cheek. 

“Love you too honey.” You purred, kissing his cheek and then his jaw, before curling into his side, his arms wrapping around you. “You feel better?”

“Much.” He mutters, and you could hear he was falling asleep, making you smile. “I’ll return the favor, don’t worry.”

You hummed. “Not a favor Lo. I like taking care of you.”

You felt the small exhale of his chest, and you knew it was an exhale of relief. One where he is silently asking, “What did I do to deserve you?” and you knew simply that all it was, was that he was your prince- and you were his princess. 

[justasecretflower]

~🪻 sdv men as boyfriends headcanons ~

Incl- Alex, Elliot, Shane, Sam, Sebastian, Harvey, Willy, Gunther, M. Rasmodius (Wizard.)

You look lost, visit my garden?

Alex

- He’s the type that’ll make you become apart of his workout. Lemme explain..

- he kisses you in between every push-up and crunch.

- you sit on his back during pushups

- he sees how many times he can deadlift you. (It doesn’t matter what size you are, yes, he can deadlift you.)

- “babe” “baby” “sugar”

- D1 YAPPER.

- he’ll talk your ear off about his childhood, gridball, his feelings when he first met you.

- he’s GREAT to have conversations with because they keep going on for hours.

- when he cuddles you he like..crushes you. He always ends up snoring loudly, drooling on you, and his whole muscular body right on top of you.

- touchy touchy TOUCHYYY.

- he’s the type to run up to you and spin you around then hug you saying how much he missed you. Even if you’ve only been gone for like 5 minutes

- he doesn’t cry often, thinks it makes him weak, but the one day that you got him crying in your arms, your fingers in his hair and quietly whispering that it was okay, he literally fell in love again x2 harder.

Elliot

-…🙄

-CORNYYYYYY

- you alr saw that coming though.

- writes you poems and puts them under your pillow like a tooth fairy..

- he likes holding you. Makes him feel like he’s a protector.

- romantic home dinner dates with balloons, rose petals galore, candles, fancy table cloth, ect.

- love language is words of affirmation muahaha..

- “my love” “my dearest” “my darling”

- tells you everyday how much he loves you in old Shakespearen English

- slow dances in the living room with you.

Shane

- he’s really insecure and gets jealous easily.

- it’s like. You’re talented, hard working, beautiful, how could you ever like him?

- in his eyes, he was old, washed up, no longer a fit gridball player, alcoholic, suicidal.

- he distances himself from you whenever he has these episodes.

- it’s really bad, he knows, but he doesn’t want you to know how insecure and helpless he is.

- you do find out, and you hold him.

- his safe space, his savior, is you.

- he gets better for you, for himself, and for everyone around him and he constantly tells you how much you’ve saved him.

- “doll”

- he gets a new coat and has your initial on it with a heart (Marnie sewed it)

- DAD BOD.

- movie nights. Not those aesthetic ones. The messy ones.

- the ones where you have dirty plates on the floor, pizza rolls, a bag of candies in between you and popcorn on the couch.

- it’s comfy, and it’s fun either way.

Sam

- he’s so cute.

- “babe” “baby”

- DEFINITION of golden retriever bf

- skateboards over to your house.

- he gets cuteness agression😭.

- he just randomly, aggressively, nuzzles your shoulder, or pecks a thousand kisses all over your face.

- makes songs for you and sings them to you.

- his favorite place to kiss you is your shoulder. Not even sexually he just loves kissing your shoulder.

- teaches you how to skate so that you can skate with him.

- he’d def be that cliche that’s like. Tried to flirt with you by leaning on the doorway but missed the doorway💀 (SAME WITH ALEX)

- He likes skating dates, MESSY cooking dates, and playing just dance with you.

- owns an “I love my girlfriend” t-shirt and wears it all the time. No shame

Sebastian

- kisses the tips of your ears and nose.

- very soft and gentle kisses.

- black cat …muahahhaaha

- he likes to make bracelets with you!

- matching bracelets

- also, matching pjs

- movie nights are the best with him. Matching pjs, snacks, cuddles, the rain pattering in the background.

- he’s a listener, not a talker.

- he said he can listen to you talk for days.

- of course, he mumbled that while flushed but he still said it.

- you’re his comfort person.

- he gets insecure but he doesn’t project it on you, just gets extra clingy.

Harvey

- HARVEY!!!

- he gets flushed easily if you flirt with him.

- he goes on rambles about medical stuff and it just 😩

- takes care of you while you’re sick. Carries you to a bath with salts and bubbles in it, cuts up fruits, feeds you, helps you drink water, dab a cold rag on your forehead.

- he’s super romantic, makes you dinner sometimes and makes it healthy / canon

- kisses your forehead to get you to wake up in the morning.

- breakfast in bed on your anniversary.

- he’s a family man / canon

- give him a picket fence life /srs

- he likes kissing you deeply. Just pouring his whole heart into it.

Willy

- he likes fishing with you, if you don’t know how, he’ll stand behind you and guide you.

- “darlin” “hon” “pretty thing”

- puts your initial on his favorite fishing pool.

- he likes you sitting on his lap, just because he likes to be close to you.

- date nights on the beach, or on his fishing boat watching the stars together.

- OH GOSH THE QUIET MORNINGSSSS

- he gets up “bright and early” so he just holds you, whispers in your ear with a raspy morning voice, gently kissing your shoulder “g’mornin pretty thing”

- really values quality time, even if you’re not talking just sitting near him while he’s fishing.

- definitely thought he was gonna stay single until he died before he met you, like he wasn’t even being pessimistic, just thought that he wouldn’t find anyone in that small town.

Gunther

- I feel like he would’ve messed around when he was younger but never settled down.

- so when he moved to pelican town, he never expected to meet someone that would make him wanna be all lovey dovey and stuff.

- teaches you about history. His head in your lap, hand up to your cheek gently stroking it with the pad of his thumb as he yaps on, with a deep, smooth voice.

- remembers everything about you. Every detail even if you were just mentioning it in passing.

- “hon” “my darling” “love”

- date nights are those little missing persons cases (the fake ones), discussing history under a willow tree, taking small naps intertwined I

- prolly has a kid from a hookup…sorry?!

- not much for physical affection, but he’ll indulge a little, hand holds, cheek kisses, kisses.

- his love language is acts of service 100%.

M. Rasmodius Wizard

- he kinda watches you with his magic..not creepily !!

- stops you from falling all the time.

- “my love” “dearest”

- not touchy, but shows his love for you with actions.

- gifts you flowers, makes you food, cleans your room for you.

- fine..he’ll go to the flower dance for you.

- he’ll just end up dragging you to a secluded area to do the dance tho.

- it’s kinda cute ngl.

Tags

[wellen-katze]

Masterpost for all my BG3 fanart

You are probably here for it so here is a list of all the Baldur's Gate 3 Fanart I did so far, please enjoy! whew, that was a lot of work

Comics:(last update 19/04/24)

The circle of degradation - bg3 comic astarion, cazador

Weeping of a bhaalspawn - bg3 comic original Dark Urge Tav

astarion dialogue spoilers

Compassion - bg3 durgeTav, Astarion comic

A fun show - bg3 Astarion comic

Why not - bg3 Astarion, Tav comic

Lae'zel, Voss comicstrip

Needle and thread - bg3 comic Astarion, Halsin [TW SA themed]

the funniest pictures are created(...) - bg3 Astarion, Karlach, Wyll, Shadowheart, Gale, Lae'zel

Moon and stars - bg3 Astarion comic

Farewell of a wizard - bg3 Rolan (Gale) comic

Don't you fret - bg3 comic A.Astarion/dark urge

Hope is for the living - bg3 astarion comic (remake)

Words to care - bg3 comic, Astarion

Lae'zel the artist(?) - Astarion, Gale, Shadowheart, Wyll, Karlach

Filth - bg3 comic, a.astarion, dark urge

Pondering and caring - bg3 comic, astarion

Love of my life -bg3 comic, astarion

Ascended Minds - bg3 comic, Dark Urge x A.Astarion

How it might have started Tav, Jaheira, Astarion, Shadowheart, Gale

Pondering and hatching - bg3 comic Lae'zel , Karlach, Astarion

It's raining - bg3 comic, Gale, Astarion

Far away - Astarion, Gale, Shadowheart

Halsin and ducks

Calamari - BG3 comic, Astarion, Gale

Temptation - BG3 comic, Astarion, Tav 'Yaris'(by Iruka/Sabu)

Bookclub part 3 - Astarion, Gale, Volo

Yellow flower - A.Astarion

Arrow - Astarion, Durge Tav ,Gale Karlach

The past of a magistrate - astarion, durge, wyll, shadowheart, karlach, gale

Taters! -bg3 Karlach PART 1, PART 2, PART 3

Bookclub-time with Gale,&Astarion

The golden hour - bg3 Cazador, Astarion comic

I love you - , astarion,tav

A faint whiff - astarion,tav [tw trauma]

bg3 doodle comic about stupid Tav things2

bg3 doodle comic about stupid Tav things

Family runs through the magic - bg3 rolan,cal,lia comic

Death, life and fun -Astarion, Arabella, Withers, Gale PART1 , PART2 , PART3

Cold skin, colder heart - astarion bg3 doodle comic

The office meme, Astarion, Tav

Not the religious type - bg3 astarion comic

The meaning of Gale of Waterdeep, Tara, Gale

Curse of a vampyr - bg3 a.astarion, tav comic

AstarionxDragonborn Dark Urge lap scene

Path down to the heart - BG3 Dark Urge, Astarion comic [TW blood, violence]

The freedom to love - Astarion,durgeTav bg3 comic

No one is allowed to eat from Tav's buffet lol - bg3 shortcomic

Circular scars - Cazador, Vellioth BG3 comic [TW violence, blood]

Nibbles - bg3 comic [Shadowheart origin spoiler]

The library of a million realms - bg3, Astarion comic [TW trauma]

The fortuneteller - Astarion, Tav

The worst podcast - bg3 comic [epilogue spoilers]

God Gale as a motivational coach and his guest Astarion

POV you are having a very romantic date with Astarion lol - bg3 comic

Durge, Astarion and a bhaalist worshipper, bg3 shortcomic

Dark Urge&A.Astarion PART 1 , PART 2 , PART 3 , PART 4, PART 5

Gale's burden - bg3 shortcomic

Bloodtalk -Astarion, Dark Urge,

Gale, Tara and Catstarion

The box - Astarion,Tav bg3 Comic [TW Trauma]

Astarion&Shadowheart, scars, river and talk

Gale and Astarion's Bookclub

Lae'zel is not smiling, you are smiling! -Karlach, Lae'zel, Tav

Bg3 Clown comic - Tav, Astarion, Shadowheart

Gale meets the kids - Gale, Tav, Shadowheart, Astarion

Astarion and the Gur scribble

Gale and his children

Astarion short comic [TW sa themed]

A short Shadowheart comic

Old Astarion comic - Cazador, Astarion

Ravishing Mirror - S.AstarionxA.Astarion R18! (Patreon shop)

Other:(last update 19/04/24)

kisses and hugs for gnome tav, Karlach, Astarion doodle

Shadowheart, nocturne FA

Astarion confession scene, break-up FA

Astarion face doodles

Astarion with child doodle

minthara doodle

A moment of disgust, Astarion FA

7000 pieces, Astarion FA

Gale doodle

Astarion FA

Tav Meme

Midnight chimes, eh? Astarion FA

Astarion Fa

Astarion Fa

Gale would still marry you, if you were a worm

Gale and Tara weee

Catstarion has nine lives

Very serious first 1000 words

let me know if there are any mistakes

[calluna-dekarios-dellamorte]

More reshade experiments!

Kissing in the rain while wearing the Crown of Sweaty King so Calluna looks extra pathetic.

He deserves all the forehead kisses!

He's such a sweetie!

[robynlilyblack]

Don't you dare pull away

Sirius Black x fem! slytherin! reader 

Summary: Sirius Black and Y/n y/l/n have always been famous for their public showdowns, but what happens the two are forced to finally spend alone time together?

Warnings: swearing, mentions of wizarding slurs (eventual strange term of endearment), kissing and sex, enemies to lovers, steamy first kiss, getting together, fighting in the rain, kissing in the rain, lil sexual tension

A/n: 2.7k words, can be seen as a prequel to the my little deatheater series, thank you so much for the request, I hope you like it, enjoy! 

Navigation | Sirius Black Masterlist

“This is all your fault” Sirius grumbles as descends from the last tower, tossing another bag of collected rubbish onto the pile you both had created

You let out an empty laugh, poking your tongue into your cheek and shaking your head a little, refraining yourself from hurling a quaffle at him…again. If anything, it was entirely his fault. He was the one that decided to pull the most outrageous hail mary in all of quidditch, therefore any reaction you had was merely in defence of his insanity. Not that the professors agreed mind you, forcing you both to clean the entire pitch yourselves without magic

“I don’t know why you’re so pissy you guys still--oh no you don’t” you finally speak, only to be caught off guard by one of the bludgers acting up “Salzar will you… ughh” you huff, anger overcoming you as you attempt force the clasp of the trunk shut, even going so far as to climb onto of it yourself “Motherfu-ahh” you squeal as it bucks harder

Just as you’re about to get thrown off you, feel a weight beside you, bringing the clasp close enough to finally hook on and allow you to lock it. You breathe a sigh of relief, head leaning against the wood and for a moment, it’s peaceful. The bludger stops fighting, going dormant once more, leaving only the sound of your breathing and the soft patter of rain on the tarpaulin above you

“Thank you” the words escape your lips faster than you can stop them and your eyes widen rather comically

Dammit, you don’t even need to look at him; you can already feel that stupid smirk of his forming

“What was that darling? I didn’t quite catch that” 

You groan quietly “I said… ” you purse your lips before lifting yourself up, eyes meeting his “... thank you” you begrudgingly admit and his smirk deepens, the smug bastard

“Thank you?” he over exaggerates in faux awe, hand finding his chest, fingertips gently grazing his jersey “No… ” he shakes his head “... there’s no way our resident deatheater over here is thanking lil' old me for helping her” he coats it on annoyingly thick, egging you on as he always did

“Last time I thank you… for… what was that?” you attempt to rebuke but the sound of something ripping takes your attention away, gaze turning upward “Shit” your eyes blow wide at huge dip in the canopy above you, small drips of water already slipping through the beginnings of a tear

As you stand Sirius’ seems confused before his eyes follow your own, catching on quickly “Crap” he mutters, sliding off the chest “Come on!” he shouts, pulling you with haste towards the wall, shielding you from the impending cascade

… except it never comes.

Instead, you and he are held up against the wall. You peek with one eye to check what's happening, meeting Sirius doing the same, one hand flush against the wall behind you while the other is wrapped around your waist

You wrangle out of his grasp as you both realise the old awnings still got some life in her “Thank merlin you didn’t overreact” you tease him “Come on!” you mock, turning away for a moment and noticing the small trail of water from the edge of the tower and canopy beside you

His tongue pokes his inner cheek, head leaning against the wall before he pushes himself off, turning to face you “Oh fuck off” he tuts “We both thought it was gonna go...if anything you should be thanking me!” he lets out an exasperated breath, arms folding as his back finds the wall

“Thank you?” you look at him astonished, you couldn’t believe the nerve this boy had on him, though it did make splashing him with some of the dripping water less guilt worthy “Why the hell would I thank you?” you flick water at him again

“Oi!” he flinches, taken aback “What the--” he barely gets a word in as you continue

“I’m the one stuck here cleaning your mess!” you shout, flicking him a couple more times before backing down, taking pleasure in his pretty curls deflating into a drenched, frizzy state

“You better cut that out right…wait, my mess!” he lets out an annoyed ‘huh’ as your words finally register “I’m the one with the broken broom and detention for a month! Not to mention I’m missing my bloody victory party” he gestures towards the now hazy castle, obscured thanks to the relentless showers around you

“Well, if you had any real skill it wouldn’t have broken now, would it?!” you scrunch your nose at him, but your argument falls on deaf ears as his head begins to shake a little, trying to remove the strands of hair that have stuck to his face thanks to your watery combat “Plus it’s not like you wouldn’t already have detention… are… Sirius? Are you even listening to me? Black!!” you try to regain his attention but it remains solely on his hair “Oh for fucks sake” you grow tired of his failed attempts, swatting his hands away, gently pulling back the soaked pieces and tucking them behind his ears before stepping back “Better?” you ask crispy

“Yes. Much” he responds, falling in tune with your anger again “Ready whenever you are darling” his arms widen in a half bow, welcoming your attempts 

You stare at him “I…” you start before begging your brain to come up with some kind of clever quip “You're... umm… fuck” you whisper the last bit as you draw a blank, growing increasingly frustrated, more so as he realises that for the first time, you might just be stumped 

“Holy shit, you’ve got nothing” the smirk that grows on his, punchable, pretty, face is maddening “Oh you have no idea how happy I am right now”

“I… ugh… oh fuck you Black” you grab the nearest object, a forgotten wet scarf, and hurl it at him “Least I wasn’t disowned” even you know it’s a low blow, but as the man said, you really didn’t have anything

He manages to avoid it though, the wet fabric barely grazing his shoulder as he ducks “You're really clutching at straws now love” he half laughs at you “Hey!” he points as you chuck something else, taking a stride towards you after it misses as well

“Just admit it darling, you’ve lost!”

“As if!” you defend "I never have and never will lose to you!" you throw what can only be described as a half a decorative lion mane at him

He dodges once again, his eye wide your sheer determinism “Merlin, you’re so petty”

“I am not petty! you’re petty!” you scoff, moving towards him as well as you’ve ran out of safe objects to throw at him “Ugh, I could punch you right now” your fists ball, jerking at your sides as you attempt to control your rage

“Then why haven’t you!” he questions “Not like you haven’t got rough on the field before!” he waves his hands in the air, recalling the time you whacked him the face with your broom as you flew by him

“Because your face is pretty, and I rather like looking at it while I argue!” you admit, anger still in full swing

So is Sirius’ as he argues back “Yeah? Well I happen to think yours is rather cute when you’re all riled up at me!”

“Thank you!” 

“I mean it!”

“Good!” 

“Good!”

You’re faces are dangerously close now, and as your altercation falls into silence, your hard expressions soften for a moment, small half smiles and laughs escaping as the words shouted between you sink in

You thought he was pretty

And he thought you were cute

You and Sirius had always been known for your little battles, but you and he were in foreign territory now. Never before had one lasted so long, gotten you this fired up. Normally first years would run away and seniors would grab popcorn when you and he were in the same room, however without the screening eyes of your peers or authoritative figures something else was building, something new. No longer was it going to end with who got the biggest cheer, or last insult in before the professors broke you up, no, the game had changed now, and you both knew it

Your face hardens, the anger fading but the passion of the fight remains “You know you’d still have your precious broom if you’d accepted your loss” you start of soft, eyes looking deep into his, asking him if you want to walk this line with you

A smile quirks at the corner of his “Loss, darlin? Oh no we won…” his face darken back into it and you take that as a yes “...I think you need to get that pretty head of yours checked”

“We had it until you pulled what was quite frankly the most illegal fucking move in all of quidditch, and if you had been anything other than a perfect little lion this would be a completely different conversation!” you scoff “I can’t believe you call that a win, you bloody cheat!” you’re poking the bear now, pride overcoming you as you watch his eyes flare at the last word 

“Don’t you dare call me that… take that back right now” he takes the smallest step forward, your chests brushing “What I did out there was blimmin' brilliant and you know it!” he leans even closer “You’re just jealous you weren't smart enough to think of it first!”

“Jealous! Why the hell would be jealous of a cheat, cheat, cheat-itie, cheater?” you near bounce at each little quip, merlin were you having fun

He breathes out through his nose, warm air tickles your lips “I am not… ” he stops himself, almost like he’s fighting an internal battle “I’m… ugh” letting out a groan as he turns, stepping in a small circle as he backtracks “I wouldn’t have to pull some cheaty moves if you lot played fair for once” he backtracks, pointing at you, his breathing heavy now “Fricking snakes, the lot of ya” 

“For once?” you huff, slapping his finger away before flicking water in his face again, but this time it’s far more strategic “Thats a good one Mr Marauder” you flaunt your hands mockingly before do it again “Unlike you… Us. Snakes. Have. Standards!” you'll even admit you go a little overboard with the water this time, splashing him between every word before catching some in cupped hands and pouring it over him

He shakes his head like a dog after you finish “Stop!” he warns but it feels more like a challenge, now it’s his turn to ask you with his eyes; did you really want to step over this line? Enter this new world with him?

“Make me” you jeer, tone lower than normal as you accept his unspoken offer, hand sweeping through the water again 

This time however he catches your wrist, holding it in place, before retraining the other one as well, knowing you too well to leave himself unguarded on one front

“Do that one more time and you’ll regret it...”  he’s unbelievably close now "...darling"

“Or what, bloodtraitor” you hold his gaze, enticing him

Whatever it was that was building between the two of you was coming to its apex, and you’re both acutely aware of it. But it’s where, you suppose, this dangerous little dance of yours had always been leading

He leans in closer, letting your hand fall from his grasp, chests breathing in unison as his eyes refuse to leave yours for even a second “I think you know, little deatheater” a smirk threatens to play at his lips, godric was he loving this new frontier

And salzar, were you too, eyes unable to help stealing glancing at his lips then back to him “I do” you admit, bringing your lips up, letting them hover dangerously close to his own but as he smirks, taking this as his win, loving to close the gap, you retreat, whispering a flirty “Gotcha ya Siri” before stepping back, a playful smile on your face

His face is a picture, mouth agape, a light tinge of pink sprinkling his cheeks but within his shocked expression lies amusement, along with realisation that he lost your little game most spectacularly fashion

“You little minx” he breathes out quietly, tongue pushing his cheek out as he hangs his head, you had got him fair and square, and the boy couldn’t even be mad

“Yes!” you punch the air, beginning to laugh lightly, you don’t even try to come up with a witty remark as you celebrate, because you just bet the sirius black, prankster, playboy, at his own game

He raises his head after a few seconds to see you all proud of yourself, yet your pride is different than normal, if anything he swears it’s more genuine. He’s ready to accept defeat, to let you win, but he’s not ready to let you get away without finishing what you both just started, but just as he’s about to step forward it seems the canopy has finally given up, the fabric above you gives way, splitting in one foul swoop and releases a freezing torrent upon you

“What the…”

Your eyes are wide, mouth fallen open as you gasp loudly, feeling the cold water creep into each layer of your clothing, frozen in place as you look up at Sirius who remains dry, narrowly avoiding the same fate. He looks almost in as much shock, eyes looking up at the rather wide hole, then back towards you

Meeting his eyes, you finally let your smile break free “Shit!” you pout for a second “I just lost didn’t I?” you shout over the pitter patter, losing yourself in laughter as the rain pours around you

Sirius watches the scene with a similar smile, you had always been a wonder to him, this force of nature that drove him crazy, but in this moment all he felt was peace, and he was happy to lose, just this once with you

“Nah” he chuckles, letting the rain engulf him as he approaches, your laughter soothing as his finger hooks under your chin, bringing your gaze to his “We both lost” he tells you before guiding your lips upwards towards his, pausing just before they touch in tortuous bliss

The rain is a stark contrast to the moment, it’s unlike anything either of you have shared before, it’s quiet, soft, like you were old lovers finally finding one another again in another life. 

“Don’t you dare pull away” he whispers, lips tickling yours, hot breath warming you despite your numbing limbs

His fingers slide along your jaw slowly, becoming flush before floating upwards carding through the wisps of soaked hair framing your face. His eyes follow, flitting over your face, eyes filled with the kind of admiration one could only dream of and it’s exciting, new, the beginning of a long time coming

“Never again” you promise

He nudges his nose against your own before closing the gap, lips parting as they meet. It’s slow, meaningful, there’s no battle for control, just two souls hungry for one another after being starved for far too long. And it’s intoxicating, your hands finding his cotton of his jersey at his chest, the wet fabric forgotten as you pull him impossibly closer. Sirius feels drunk on your lips, the rements of your lipstick on his tongue as it slips through, hands wandering down to your hips, moving the fabric of your jumper upwards to reveal the skin underneath, eliciting a soft moan from your lips and causing the kiss to finally break

Both your chests heave as Sirius guides you backwards towards the wall and shelter again, turning you around last minute so your flush against it, hands very much still on your hips, thumbs pressing into the skin in soothing circles

“You know…” you catch your breath “...maybe losing isn’t so bad” you admit, throat tickling with light laughter

He joins you “It isn’t…” he agrees, one hand sliding out from below to cup the sweet plush of your cheek, bringing your eyes to his grey ones, heartwarming as you lean into his touch “...but only when it’s with you”

After that, every snide remark that was fired across the battlefield between you was now coated with something more intimate, perhaps they’d always been, but it would always be the kind of strange endearment only you and he could ever understand

My “Little deatheater”  

My “Bloodtraitor”

Thank you for reading ♡

[p1325]

[whorediaries-09]

imagine eldest daughter!reader not being able to love anyone and flinch whenever someone touches her, and remus being the only person that can touch her and stay with her while she wants to be alone

oh wow. did u really have to...call me out like that?

archer;

pairing- remus lupin x reader warning(s)- hurt/comfort, details of child abuse, touch sensitivity. (let me know if should add more) a/n- i really went ✨self - indulgent ✨ on this one.

ps- the beginning is from the movie 'five feet apart'. it's a really good one, make sure to check it out.

little train

' i've been the archer, i've been the prey.'

touch. the first form of communication. it began with a soft caress of the finger. or the brush of lips on cheeks. it connects one in the times of happiness, bolsters one in the time of fear and excites one in times of passion and love.

to be touched, was to communicate the feeling of security, the feeling of safety and comfort. but to understand the importance of touch, was different, was difficult. to need the touch from the one you loved was as important as the air needed to breathe.

and you understood it's importance, the need when you had none. perhaps it was because you didn't feel the security, the feeling of being safe when you were being touched. even a simple hug or a handshake could set off ringing bells in your head.

it reminded you of the time when your mother would slap down her hands on your back for a small mishap like spilling the juice on the floor. or burn her cigarettes onto your skin, punishing you for wasting the juice and make you clean up.

'you stupid bitch! i don't have enough fucking money for you to spill juice all over the stupid floor!' she'd scream, boxing your ears. she'd pull you by your ears, taking a ladle and letting the wooden handle rain on your back, make you understand the consequences of your mistake.

'please don't cry angel, she'll beat you again,' your father would comfort you, rubbing a cool soothing balm on your burning wounds. you'd cry into the safety of his arms, his callous and rough palms soothing you. his voice was deep and warm, and he'd hold your face close to his chest to let you cry, so your voice was as muffled as possible. the tears would stick on your face and you blacked out, the exhaustion so deeply rooted within your body. you'd fall asleep in his arms.

because the monsters were gone, and your dad was home.

it was difficult to make friends within the community of witches and wizards. where everyone had their own fears but they had mastered the facade of pretend, to hide behind their smiles. and even in this difficult time, when the war was at large, people still found a way to sneak in a ray of hope and happiness into their life.

they appreciated the hugs and kisses. they never knew when they'd lose it. so you watched from a distance as ron weasley was smothered in kisses by molly weasley. and even though he puckered up his face, by his calm stature, you knew he enjoyed it. he liked it and appreciated it.

but oh how you hated it. you hated the fact that you'd have to stand different, reflect within the clouds of happy cheerful faces. perhaps it was you who was in the wrong. you hated the fact that you flinched when somebody tried to touch you. you wanted to feel the same comfort the others felt when they were touched.

'want another drink?' hermione asked, grabbing your attention from the overwhelming scene that played out in front of you. mrs. weasley going around and distributing gifts amongst the children. hermione had been scratching a purring crookshank's ears. your eyes darted down on your lap, where your finger circled around the rim of the empty cup.

'no thanks,' you smiled.

'you must try the eggnog! sirius is the best at making it!' harry said, a proud smile on his face. sirius threw his arm around his shoulders.

'it's fine harry, i'm sure you've never tried other variations of eggnog, if you find mine to be the best,'

'it'll always be the best to me, sirius,' harry said. sirius let out his usual bark like laughter, his gray eyes full of a raw emotion. in harry's eyes, he saw himself to be the father figure he never had.

'you flatter, me harry james potter, you really do.'

'he's not flattering you sirius, you know your way around the kitchen.' remus said, walking through the door. he set down his battered coat onto the chair. with a loud creak, he pulled it out his chair.

you noticed the aging lines around his eyes and lips. his usually pale skin was red. you assumed it was due to the lack of a muffler and the cold gusts of wind that blew outside. he tried to warm himself up by blowing air within the crevice of his palms and rubbing them together. when he noticed you staring at him, he smiled at you.

'merry christmas,' he whispered. his voice was deep and rich, a beautiful vibrato from the depth of his throat. you gulped slowly, watching as the redness from his face slowly faded as he gave you a warm smile. you felt your heart drown in an inexplainable cozy feeling. you smiled back, toasting the air with your empty glass.

'merry christmas,'

*-

the marks on your skin were evident. to be best described, they were like crescent moons staining your skin. the cause, however was not as pretty as the description.

to be wearing full sleeves on a hot summer day was exhausting and itchy, but it was the only solution to hide the burns from the time when your mother had decided to use you as her ashtray. the abuse had been settling upon you. your mother had been growing sicker as each day passed by.

and grief was a weird thing. you wanted to be sad that your mother was sick, and as each day passed, the days of her life were coming to and end. the woman that birthed you, that cared for you- that threw you into an emotional turmoil when your brother was born was dying.

you didn't feel grief, but neither did you feel happy. you were numb, trying to escape the coddling fumes of the tremendous torture you'd been through. to try and be the best role model for your brother.

to try and not keep a corpse in the cradle.

and again, in the realms of your plethora of emotions, you were numb. you didn't feel the pain when you jumped in front of the curse that was thrown at sirius, dodging him away from the soul trapping veil. it was like a white hot curse that burned through your skin and your mother's voice echoed in your brain.

your eyes closed, and while you could still hear your heart beating and the obnoxious screams, you let the darkness succumb you into a madness of sereness. perhaps you'd meet your mother again. perhaps you'll ask her if she ever loved you. perhaps, you'd asked her why she'd have to make you adore her with her hands around your neck.

perhaps you'd ask her the reason she set fire to the rain.

so, when your senses start numbing and you feel yourself falling on the cold hard ground with your head bursting open, you let the blood flow. you don't dream of the warm, calloused hands tending to your wounds and buying you ice cream to allow your mood to lighten. you don't dream about the monsters who were gone when your dad was home. perhaps you'd meet your dad when the world succumbs.

*-

the moonlight filtered through sheer curtains, falling on your face. the sheets underneath you were warm and cozy, pulling you into a beautiful haze of sleep. your eyelids were heavy when you opened them, and you slowly tried to move around, searching for recognition of the place.

you could only recognize the slumped up man sitting within the folds of his jacket. his hands were wrapped around a folded newspaper. his mouth was open slightly, and through the lens of your groggy drowsiness, you could see the lines on his chapped lips, the wrinkles around his eyes. his spectacles dangled off the edge of his nose.

slowly, under the sheets, you wriggled your toes to feel your body. you suddenly felt as if you were on fire. as if somebody had slayed you alive. you were laying down, for once, and not escaping the endless turmoil thrown at your back. for once, you didn't feel discomfort laying down and not doing anything. but it was hot under the sheets.

'sleep well?' remus asked, rubbing his eyes and fixing the angle of his spectacles. it surprised you, and you flinched slightly. he gets up, keeping his jacket on the chair he'd been sleeping on.

the dark circles under his eyes seemed to have deepened. you felt his eyes wander over you. he lower lip was tucked under his teeth, his hands buried in his pockets. he waits patiently for you to answer.

'yes, mr. lupin. where am i?'

'call me remus please. you're at my house. the order's headquarters weren't safe for you anymore. that's because the death eaters are after you. well specifically bellatrix, because you dodged the curse she threw at sirius. for old times sake, she wanted to end it for once and for all.'

you gulp slowly, letting the realization settle into you. you move your fingers slowly under the sheets, testing your capacity to move. you felt bandage clothe rip into your skin.

'you've broken your fingers.' he says moving closer to your form, lying on the bed. 'it's brutal, because your skeletal muscles have been damaged too. do you understand?' he says patiently, gently. you feel a clump in your throat which burns down into your very core. it makes your eyes water.

'y-yes,' you say, your voice wobbly. he stands beside you, letting you fight your tears. he doesn't say anything. and perhaps, you don't want him to.

it's as if, he can't ever leave you. as if he would stay. so, for once, when his gentle, calloused hands touch your body, helping you sit up, you don't find yourself running away from him. you find yourself chased into his warmth, which echoes a gentleness that stills your heart.

because, there's no invisible smoke, or a fire within the crevices of your body. he helps you hold onto him.

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taglist - @reggieisfit @siriuslycaptainofthedawntreader @jamespottergf @eternallybipanicking @fictional-magic @iamgayforyourmom1510

(if you want to be tagged please send a request through my inbox.)

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a/n 2- i know this is a self indulgent statement, but if any of my sirius girlies want me to write something like this with him, please let me know!!

[ambitiouspotions]

ABOVE | FRED WEASLEY | ONESHOT

summary - fred weasley watches over you after his death

word count — 1.5k

warnings — an angsty mess

author’s note — i wrote this when i ate a gummy don’t judge me

fred gideon weasley’s out-of-body experience began after an unusual conversation in purgatory. he begged the spectral desk clerk to send him back to earth to see you. though the desk clerk was unable to reverse his untimely death, they allowed him to roam the earth unnoticed. he was a teacher. he stared as his entire ginger-headed family gathered around him in the great hall to mourn him. they all put their head against his chest and took turns crying. all within a matter of minutes they would go from crying to screaming, but when you saw him, it hurt.

he had promised that he would be okay, but now even his spirit had a guilty conscience. he could still remember the last kiss you shared before you were split apart in the battle. now he was watching you mourn, disbelief riddling your face.

fred tried to compensate you for the exasperated scream you let out the moment you saw him lying lifeless on the table. he wrapped you in a tight hug, but you didn’t react by falling into his arms like you normally did. you went through his chest and landed on the soulless body on the table. maybe that was the reason you cried - because you didn’t feel his soul present in his body. he stayed sitting with you until they were forced to move his body so his family could have a proper burial.

the days leading up to the funeral he was distant. just outside of his old apartment, watching into the window as you fixated on the street lamps on diagon alley. though he was there when his body was laid in the grave on a rainy day. your tears were easily concealed because the rain kept hitting your face. he tried to wipe your tears with his thumbs, but they kept falling. he watched you hold his mother, who was falling apart, as they lowered his mortal body into the open earth.

his life should’ve been celebrated with a fireworks display and an annoying marching band that blocked the streets for hours, but instead, he was watching black-robed wizards and witches shed more tears and agony now that he was truly gone. he didn't have the funeral he would've wanted because he expected to live forever. he had the armor of innocence and youth on his side, but his confidence soared too high. death stopped for no one, even for those who caused endless smiles and fits of laughter.

the day you went back to his apartment he came inside. george was not doing well. you weren’t crying anymore, but your face had enough pain contouring your normal features. well, you weren’t crying in front of anyone else. the moment you closed the door to his bedroom you collapsed into his unmade bed. you tried to take in his scent, but it wasn’t close enough to the real experience of being bundled into his chest for comfort. you were begging to hear “get on your side,” but it never came. you wanted him to complain one more time about hogging the quilt, but the room was silent aside from your sniffling.

fred tried to comfort you, but it went unnoticed. he was rubbing your back and running his fingers through your hair. he wanted you to know he was okay, but you didn’t feel him. he watched you cry for hours until you were finally asleep. the worst part of this purgatory was not being able to comfort you when you needed it most. he wanted to watch you grow past his death, but that was not going to happen in a few days. he knew he would have to stomach the pain and grief he was causing you and continue to watch over you.

a month later, you sat on the sofa at the burrow, remembering the summers you spent with him. the day molly found you laid across each other, sunburnt to hell, after spending hours at the lake and ignoring her cry for you both to wear sun cream. the time you sat with him, trying to act inconspicuous after you had spent the entire night roaming the fields with him for a romantic time that wouldn’t be interrupted.

you spent hours looking through molly’s photo albums for a sense of peace, but it only made your mind pained again. fred’s eyes kept returning to the photo of him dancing with you at bill and fleur’s wedding. the quick motion of the photo showed how happy he was in the moment. it was something so miniscule, but so satisfying. he could feel love radiation from the picture even though he was not on the same plane of existence any longer. your head was hidden in his shoulder as you saw the photographer coming. he could still hear his laugh as he tried to spin you to look at the camera. your face was so flushed, and your hands were gripping his suit tightly to stay close.

the christmas holidays still went on without him, but molly’s normal knitted gift was left upon his gravestone. he didn’t want you to spend christmas at his grave, but you did. you talked out loud for ages. you popped a tube of confetti as you announced your new job. he was hoping you’d continue to move on. it started with less crying, and then applying yourself more. you just needed a win. you deserved a new job, a new start.

he still lay with you every night. he couldn’t bear to let you sleep alone because he knew that was when your mind wandered the most. he saw you downing various supplements to get a deeper sleep, but he still saw you wake with a racing heart and panic because you had to relive your worst nightmare; seeing his dead body again.

as time passed you would randomly stop in the hallway and look straight at him. at times he thought you could see him, but he knew it wasn’t the case when you wouldn’t rush to him. you would swallow and take a deep breath to contain yourself. he didn’t know what weird sensation came over you, but he hoped that whenever it happened it was making it easier for you.

the days seemed to fade together as fred watched you, but that was because you had the same routine. you had the same routine so your mind wouldn’t wander away. you had to keep your composure at work and when you visited his family.

he was happy for you the day you agreed to get dinner with your coworkers. you diverted from your schedule to spend time with someone other than a weasley. he enjoyed seeing you dressed up for the high-end restaurant. he enjoyed seeing you give a genuine smile, one where your cheeks reddened and your eyes slightly squinted.

you were doing so much better. you weren’t so hard on yourself. you appreciated the little things. you petted the stray cat on the street that always seemed to get under your feet when you were in a hurry. until the anniversary of fred’s death.

you visited his grave very early in the morning so you wouldn’t be disturbed by anyone else and were sadly mistaken in thinking that things had gotten any better. you cursed your life and wished fred was in your place because he was so much stronger. he put a hand on your shoulder as your hands rested flat on the ground in the center of his burial plot. your hands dug into the earth that was below your fingertips, not caring that the dirt was lining the innards of your fingernails. you just wanted him back.

he saw you go backward and forwards. grief, guilt, anger, to nothing at all. dear merlin. nothing was the worst to witness because even with the anger he could see the scared person you were hiding under your skin. nothing was dull and lifeless. his spirit had more life than your version of nothing. he would sit with you, begging you to get up, but you never did. you never got up until you were ready.

on the days you finally pulled yourself together he would celebrate. his smile never fades on those days. he was with you every step.

“that’s my girl.” he’d say as you exited the apartment. you couldn’t hear him, but it made him feel better when he said it.

he didn’t follow you forever, only on those days that seemed to drag, and the restless nights. he knew you would eventually wake one morning and not think of him immediately. he waited for that day, longing for the moment he could trust that you were going to be okay on your own. though all along you were doing it alone. it was years before fred only admired you from above. though the solace of knowing he could return to your side if you needed him was comforting.

eventually the need to return to your side faded because you moved forward. someone else was by your side, and the moment you missed fred your new suitor was next to you at his gravestone. you didn’t need a paranormal hand to rub your back anymore. you didn’t need a ghostly body to lay with at night, and fred could see it. you may not always be okay, but you were okay enough not to need his spirit any longer.

[princesskenny1998]

Hey! ^.^

I was wondering if you would write about a muggleborn fem!Ravenclaw!reader with Draco based on the Taylor Swift song, “But Daddy I Love Him”?

I thought it would be fun and I think Draco is a perfect fit for the main man of this song? Possibly because muggle parents heard about the powerful and slightly dangerous Malfoys?

Thank you if you do, and take care! 🤍

Hello <3 So, this is absolutely not my music bubble but I think I managed, hope you like it!

Harry Potter | Draco Malfoy x muggleborn!f!ravenclaw!reader ~ "But Daddy, I love him!"

The rain drizzled steadily against the windowpane, casting shadows across your open book, but you couldn’t focus on the text. The words blurred together, and you turned another page without reading it, your thoughts drifting back to the same place they always did when you were alone—back to Draco.

It had been a stormy and unexpected beginning, the kind of whirlwind that your parents would call a “bad influence” if they only knew half the truth. You were a Muggleborn Ravenclaw—a daughter of a family who, before Hogwarts, had only known the mundane world of academics and structured expectations. Your parents were good people, but they were grounded in a strict, almost suffocating sense of normalcy.

To them, the Wizarding World was a barely-understood mystery, something that they could accept on a superficial level but never truly comprehend. And when they heard whispers of the Malfoy family—of their history, their blood ties to the dark, ancient magic that had once gripped the wizarding world in fear—their acceptance turned to suspicion. They warned you, tried to cage you in with rules and boundaries even though they couldn’t set foot in the world you were growing into. They didn’t understand.

But you did. Or at least, you understood that Draco Malfoy, despite everything they’d heard, had become more than just the boy from the infamous family. He was chaos, he was raw emotion and jagged edges, and he made you feel alive in a way that studying, excelling, and being the perfect daughter never could.

The first time you kissed, it had been under the shadow of the Forbidden Forest.

It was your fifth year, and you’d stumbled across him in a rare, vulnerable moment, leaning against the base of a massive oak tree with his hair disheveled and a tired, haunted look in his eyes. You hadn’t meant to stay, but something in the way he looked at you—like you were the last person in the world he wanted to see, but also the only one he needed—kept your feet planted firmly in the cool, dewy grass. You didn’t know who moved first, but the moment his lips brushed yours, it was like a spark ignited, and suddenly you were drowning in a fire you didn’t want to escape.

From there, it was a flurry of stolen moments and whispered secrets, hands brushing under the table in the library, secret smiles shared across the Great Hall when no one else was looking. The world outside didn’t matter when it was just the two of you, and he wasn’t the cold, arrogant Slytherin heir—he was just Draco, and you were his girl.

It wasn’t long before you fell in love with his contradictions. The way he could be cruel and indifferent to everyone else, but soft and careful when it came to you. How he kissed you like he was starving, like he needed you more than he needed air. You knew he had his demons, and that he kept secrets even from you, but you didn’t care. He was wild, unpredictable, and imperfect, and you didn’t want anyone else.

But things changed before your seventh year, when the tension that had been simmering beneath the surface for years finally came to a head. You hadn't been able to return to Hogwarts, with your blood status it was prohibited and way too dangerous. Instead you had stayed hidden, blending in in the muggle world until the fateful day Draco had found you and told you that Voldemort was finally gone.

The war was over, but the scars remained, and Draco was still struggling to shed the weight of his family’s dark legacy. Your parents had heard too much, asked too many questions, and when they learned that the boy you were sneaking off to see was a Malfoy, they had reacted with horror.

You remembered that conversation vividly. Your father’s face had turned a deep, angry red as he slammed the Daily Prophet down on the kitchen table, a recent article about the Malfoy trial spread across the pages. “He’s dangerous,” your father had said, his voice shaking with barely restrained fury. “He and his family—they were on the wrong side. They were Death Eaters. How can you even think of being with him?”

Your mother, usually the more lenient of the two, had been equally resolute, her eyes hard and disapproving. “You can’t see him anymore,” she had declared. “We’ve let you live in that magical world, but this is too much. You don’t know what he’s capable of.”

They couldn’t understand. They didn’t know the way he held you when you were falling apart, or how he’d open up in rare, unguarded moments when he thought no one could see him. They hadn’t seen the way his eyes softened when he looked at you, or the way his hands shook when he thought you were angry at him. They only knew his last name, and the darkness that it carried, and they refused to look past it.

But you had never been one to follow the rules you thought didn't make sense.

So you continued to sneak away, seeing Draco in secret, the thrill of the forbidden heightening every touch, every stolen kiss. It was reckless, you knew, and every time you returned home, your parents’ questions grew more pointed, their suspicion turning into bitter arguments. They couldn’t understand why you refused to talk about your life, why you looked away when they mentioned the Malfoys, why you were no longer the dutiful, predictable daughter they had raised.

You lied to them, skillfully and effortlessly, until the lies became second nature. You buried the truth so deeply that even you began to lose track of where the deception ended and the reality began. They tried to pull you back, to anchor you to the safe, Muggle life they had planned, but Hogwarts had changed you. Draco had changed you.

Back at school, the tension only grew, a knot tightening around your heart. You and Draco were spiraling, caught in a cycle of passionate fights and desperate reconciliations. He was different this year—quieter, more withdrawn, as if he was carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders. Sometimes you’d catch glimpses of the darkness in his gaze, and it would scare you, but you never turned away. You were in too deep, and you had never been very good at letting go of the things you loved.

One rainy evening in mid-October, you sat alone in the Ravenclaw common room, staring into the fire, your parents’ words echoing in your mind. They had written you another letter—one of many—begging you to come home for good, to leave the “dangerous and untrustworthy” boy who had stolen your heart. You’d torn the letter to pieces and thrown it into the fire, watching the edges curl and blacken until nothing remained but ashes.

But you couldn’t burn away the doubts. They lingered, coiling in the back of your mind like smoke, and it was getting harder and harder to breathe.

“Maybe they’re right,” Draco said one night, his voice low and rough.

You were sitting together by the Black Lake, hidden under the cover of the trees, his arms wrapped around you as the moon cast silver light over the rippling water. He looked down at you, his eyes shadowed and weary, and you saw the fear there—the fear that he would lose you, that he was dragging you down into the darkness that had swallowed his family whole.

“Maybe you shouldn’t be with me,” he continued, his voice barely more than a whisper. “Maybe you deserve better.”

You pulled back, your heart breaking at the emptiness in his eyes. “Don’t say that,” you said fiercely, cupping his face in your hands. “You’re not dangerous. You’re not your family, Draco. I don’t care what they say—I’m not leaving you.”

He stared at you, his eyes searching yours, and for a moment you thought he was going to argue. But then his expression crumpled, and he kissed you—hard and desperate, like he was drowning and you were the only thing keeping him afloat. You kissed him back, pouring all of your defiance and love into that single moment, feeling the rush of rebellion and freedom wash over you like a tidal wave.

The storm finally broke over Christmas break.

You had come home for the holidays, reluctantly answering your parents’ demands that you spend time with them, but every conversation had been tense and stilted. They pressed you about school, about Draco, about the things you wouldn’t tell them, and you had retreated behind walls of silence and half-truths, your patience fraying with every passing day.

It was on Christmas Eve that the argument exploded, a blistering confrontation that left you breathless and furious. Your father had found one of the letters Draco had written to you—tucked away in your room, a place you thought was safe—and he had read every word, his face growing redder and redder with each line.

“He’s using you!” your father had shouted, his voice cracking with emotion. “Can’t you see that? He’s dragging you down, pulling you into his mess—”

“But, Daddy, I love him!” you had shouted back, your own voice hoarse with rage. “You don’t know him! You’ve never even met him, and you never will, because you don’t want to understand. You just want me to be the person you think I should be!”

Your mother had tried to step in, her face pale and drawn, but you had pushed past her, running out of the house and into the cold, biting winter night. You ran until your lungs burned, until your tears froze on your cheeks, and when you stopped, it was only because you had nowhere else to go.

That was when you made your choice.

You didn’t return home after Christmas. Instead, you sent an owl to Hogwarts, arranging to stay at the castle over the break, and you disappeared from your parents lives. The letters they sent went unanswered, unopened, left to pile up in a dusty corner of your dormitory where you pretended they didn’t exist. You were done playing the perfect daughter. You were done hiding who you were.

The spring of your seventh year was a blur of emotions and defiance, of laughter and tears and all the messy, beautiful chaos that defined your relationship with Draco. You were reckless together, daring the world to stop you, and every time you thought you were about to fall apart, he was there to catch you.

The day of your graduation Draco had pulled you into his arms, holding you so tightly you could barely breathe, then you had felt something inside you settle. This was your choice, your life, and you would fight for it until the end.

Years later, the scandal had faded, and the once judgmental eyes of your friends and families had turned to other stories. Your parents, though still wary, had begun to accept your decision, realizing that you were determined to build a life that they couldn’t dictate with or without them.

There were scars left behind, but they no longer hurt the way they once did. Draco was still unpredictable, still complicated and infuriating, but he was yours, and the life you had built together was more than you ever dreamed it could be.

The past, with all its secrets and shadows, no longer mattered.

All that mattered was that you had chosen him, and you would never look back.