#merlin is so fun to watch actually

[hellow-you-are-cute]

Season 1 of Merlin:

Gaius: I hope you don’t have anything to do with -The very dangerous and magical thing-

Merlin: No… *he does*

Later- Merlin goes to Dragon for help

Dragon: *gives him advice*

Merlin: *ignore it*

Nearly the end of the episode-

Merlin: *saves the day*

Arthur: *oblivious* Damn I’m so cool

[wikitpowers]

kitty and merthur parallels bc i'm sad pt.1 (beware of spoilers!)

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[dideki]

when watching any english language show and there's two guys the only thing you truly gave to consider is when they started to tegez each other

[rainbowsmagicandshit]

I am obsessed with this idea that Arthur somehow caused Merlin to be born. Arthur is the Once And Future King. That was always true, but Merlin was born after Arthur. The “once and future” part of the title implies that he’ll be reincarnated or somehow return at some point. When Albion’s need is greatest, or something like that. BUT!! What if the prophecy is only there and in play because both the Once And Future King and Emrys are incarnated together at the same time? What if Arthur has been born at other times, but Merlin wasn’t and so the prophecy wasn’t meant for that time? What if Arthur was always the key to Emrys being born in a human form?

Obviously there was a lot going on that led to both of their births from Ygraine not being able to conceive a baby to the deal with Nimueh to Ygraine’s death to the start of the Great Purge to the slaughter of those w/ magic to Balinor needing to flee to him meeting Hunith to them falling in love. If any one of these things were different, Arthur and/or Merlin wouldn’t have been born. There are also so many other people that had to have been involved with their own agendas to make it all come together in this way. What if more nobles of Camelot or royals in other nations were against the Great Purge and put pressure on Uther to not go through with it? What if a different High Priestess had talked to Uther or whoever and been more clear about the price of this magic? What if Balinor had chosen a different direction to flee or simply not stopped at or taken a route near Ealdor?

There was so much finagling that led to Arthur’s birth, but even more delicate circumstances that led to Merlin’s. How much had to align to lead to both Arthur and Merlin’s births?

This then leads me back to my point which is if all these other things that we don’t even know how many people and agendas and things had to come together to cause their births, then whose to say that baby/toddler Arthur wasn’t also involved?

As the Once And Future King he must have some sort of connection to magic itself even without Emrys, so what if the final trigger for Emrys to be born into the Mortal world is for the Once And Future King to wish it or pray it or will it into being? Even if not consciously, the will of a baby/toddler would be pretty strong. He’d be young enough to not understand what he was doing, but old enough to know to want it. He’d have a completely firm belief that this is the way it’s meant to be and not old enough to have had the thought that a king must rule alone and cannot have friends or whatever drilled into him yet. He would be young and not understand why he wasn’t allowed to play with other or why the other little ones have parents that love him but his mother is gone and his father is to focused on his mad revenge to pay him much time.

Maybe things all still would have come together and Hunith and Balinor met, fell in love, and Hunith had his son. But, if Arthur didn’t wish that little, hopeful, desperate wish, then would it still have been Merlin? Merlin Emrys? Or would it just be another dragonlord sorcerer?

I mean I'm so intrigued by what Arthur and Merlins life was like before they met each other. Was Arthur's life always in danger and other sorcerers hiding around to help keep him safe before Merlin found him?

Was Merlin's magic always subconsciously protecting Arthur and he felt like a piece of him was missing till the moment he met Arthur? Was that why he was so drawn to him?

Or did Arthur's life get exponentially more dangerous the moment he met Merlin? With other magic users suddenly sensing that Emrys was there to protect the once-and-future king.

Do we think that something happened to Arthur that caused him to reach out to Merlin and his magic when he was younger? Do we think this is why he says Merlin seems familiar; cause even if I've never seen you before you make me feel safe and protected, and I've only ever felt that a handful of times; so are you sure I don't know you???

What about when Merlin was born huh?? Do we think Arthur felt that?? The moment his soul was torn into two?? The moment a piece of his soul was taken to form his other half??

Did he cause it?? Was little baby Arthur Pendragon sitting in his big, cold room, all alone, staring up at the stars after being yelled at or ignored by his father and desperately wishing for someone, anyone, to please get him out of this mess, to love him unconditionally, to always be there for him, to be a friend.

[jijournal]

JUST PRETEND | D.M

Summary: To get his parents off his back, Draco begs you to pretend to be his date for a gala. He swears it's just for a night, but by the end, he's wishing it wasn't.

Word Count: 1.5k

Warnings: None! Just pure fluff! ravenclaw!reader x draco malfoy

A/N: I love this, so I hope you guys love this too! 🫰

⊱ ─── ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ ─── ⊰

"Love!"

You groan, already knowing who that voice belongs to. The same voice that's been haunting your sanity for the past week.

You spin around, exasperated. “What now, Draco?”

“Come to the ga—” he starts, but you cut him off by pressing a finger to your lips.

“I’ve told you a million times, Draco. No.”

Lowering your hand, you turn on my heel and start walking away.

“C’mon, love. Please,” he calls out, jogging to catch up with you.

Draco Malfoy—Mr. Perfect Pureblood—was actually begging. Again. He wanted you to be his date to the annual Malfoy-hosted Pureblood gala. And of course, as always, no blood traitors allowed.

They didn’t know that your family was full of them. Didn’t know that you wore masks just to survive. Pretending to align with You-Know-Who just to keep your heads down and your status clean.

In a twisted way, it was easier being a Ravenclaw than a Gryffindor like the Weasleys. Sure, some Slytherins still looked down on you, but at least Ravenclaws were considered useful. Strategic. Worth tolerating.

You sigh, slowing your pace. “Why don’t you take Pansy? She’s in Slytherin. Your parents would—”

“But I don’t want her,” Draco cuts in sharply, eyes locking with yours. “I want you.”

Your eyes widen.

His eyes widen more.

Your mouth opens, but nothing comes out.

“I mean—er—you know—it’s not like I want you or anything,” he stammers, clearing his throat and awkwardly running a hand through his hair. “I just think you’re a… better choice. Better than Parkinson, anyway.”

Wow. A choice. How flattering.

You raised an unimpressed brow, folding your arms across your chest. “Wow. So generous of you to pick me over your clingy little leech.”

Draco rolled his eyes. “She’s not—ugh, never mind. Look, I just need someone… tolerable. Someone who won't make me want to jump off the Astronomy Tower halfway through the night.”

“How romantic,” you deadpanned.

Draco rubbed the back of his neck, looking uncharacteristically nervous. “Please, just this once. One night. You show up, we act disgustingly cute for the press, my mother thinks I’m finally behaving like a proper pureblood son, and then you get to go back to your tragic little book club or whatever it is Ravenclaws do for fun.”

You narrowed your eyes at him. “You're really bad at this whole ‘convincing someone to help you’ thing.”

“And yet, here you are—still listening.”

You hated that he was right. He was insufferable, arrogant, and had the emotional depth of a teaspoon most days, but Merlin help you, you found yourself softening at the sight of him all flustered and begging.

“All right, fine.” you muttered.

His eyes lit up like he’d just been handed the key to Gringotts. “Really!? You're serious?"

You rolled your eyes and turned to walk away. “Don’t make me regret this, Malfoy.”

“No promises,” he called after you, a smug smirk already returning to his face. “But I’ll have a dress robe ordered for you. Emerald green—it’ll bring out your eyes.”

You paused, just for a second, heart skipping a traitorous beat. But you didn’t let him see that. Not yet.

“Better not be ugly,” you shot back over your shoulder.

Draco chuckled, watching you walk away. “She said yes,” he whispered to himself with a triumphant grin. “She actually said yes.”

What neither of you knew was that one night was never going to be just one night.

⸻

The Malfoy estate was exactly what you'd expect: grand, cold, and intimidating enough to make even the most confident witch rethink her self-worth. You stood at the entrance, fingers twitching at your sides as your eyes swept across the glittering marble floors, the floating candelabras, and the polished guests draped in silk and smugness.

The ballroom was enormous—vaulted ceilings dripping with enchanted crystal chandeliers, casting soft golden light over the crowd. Velvet drapes in rich green and black pooled on either side of towering windows.

It was beautiful. It was suffocating.

You clutched the edge of your gown, suddenly hyper-aware of every breath. Every stare. The weight of your name, your family’s secrets, and the lie you wore like perfume.

But then—you saw him.

Draco stood near the grand staircase, locked in conversation with a Ministry official in plum-colored robes. His hair was slicked back neatly, and he wore deep green dress robes that made him look older. Sharper. Like he belonged here—born into this world of polished silver and cutting glances.

But his eyes weren’t on the official. They were flicking toward the door. Restless. Searching.

And then they found you.

He stopped mid-sentence. Literally. His mouth parted, words caught somewhere between his tongue and throat as he stared. Like the sight of you had knocked the wind from his lungs.

You met his gaze with a slow, knowing smirk. “You gonna keep staring or offer me your arm, Malfoy?”

“You—Merlin, you clean up…” He looked you up and down, eyes lingering just a little too long on the way the emerald green gown hugged your figure, the way it shimmered beneath the chandeliers. “Well.”

You arched a brow. “That sounded dangerously close to a compliment.”

“Don’t get used to it,” he muttered, ears tinged pink. He held out his arm, and you slid your hand into the crook of his elbow.

You tried to ignore the way your heart pounded. The way he smelled like something warm and expensive—cologne and faint ash, like he’d just stepped out of a fireplace.

As the two of you entered, the ballroom seemed to ripple around you. Heads turned. Conversations quieted. Every eye in the room was drawn to the Slytherin prince and his unexpected date.

Whispers followed you like smoke.

“Is that—?” “Draco’s date?” “She’s not even a Slytherin…” "How can he choose someone like her?"

And yet, none of them mattered. Not with Draco beside you, standing tall, head high, like he dared anyone to challenge his choice.

“Draco,” a familiar cool voice purred as his parents approached, their presence chilling and elegant. “And who is this lovely… surprise?”

Narcissa Malfoy wore frost like a second skin. Her gown was icy blue, her diamonds sharp. Beside her, Lucius looked every inch the power-hungry aristocrat, his cane gleaming in one hand.

You smiled politely. Controlled. “His date,” you said simply. “Thank you for having me.”

Narcissa’s eyes scanned you like a predator—calculating, cold. Lucius said nothing, but his lip curled ever so slightly. And yet, after a beat, she smiled.

“Tasteful,” she said finally. “Unexpected. But tasteful.”

“Mother,” Draco cut in quickly, his tone flat but respectful. “We’ll catch up later.”

With a graceful nod, Narcissa turned. Lucius followed, silent as a shadow.

You let out a quiet breath you didn’t know you’d been holding.

“Well done,” Draco murmured as you walked further into the ballroom. “They didn’t stab you with their eyes. That’s a win.”

You smirked. “Is that what this night is going to be? Surviving Narcissa and Lucius Malfoy?”

Draco chuckled low. “That’s part one. Part two is convincing everyone else I’m wildly in love with you.”

You turned to look at him, sharp. “Think you can pull that off?”

But something in his gaze had shifted. There was no smirk this time. Just a softness. A quiet intensity that curled low in your stomach.

“I think I already am,” he said softly.

It landed between you like a dropped glass. You blinked, heart stumbling.

Before you could say anything, a warm voice echoed through the hall:

“The dance floor is now open.”

Draco didn’t hesitate. He turned, extended his hand with a slight bow, that signature Malfoy smirk reappearing—only now it was laced with something warmer. “Shall we, darling?”

You took his hand, unsure if your fingers were trembling from nerves or something else entirely.

As he led you into the center of the floor, the crowd parted like silk. His hand slid around your waist, fingers brushing the exposed skin at your back, and your breath hitched. The music swelled—slow, deliberate, romantic—and the two of you began to move.

It wasn’t the stiff, practiced steps you expected from him. No. Draco held you like he meant it. Like you weren’t just some Ravenclaw in a pretty dress. Like he saw you.

Your skirts twirled softly around your ankles as he spun you, and laughter bubbled up—genuine, light, disarming.

“You’re not completely terrible at this,” you murmured, voice low.

“Don’t ruin the moment,” he teased, smirking again. “I’m trying to make all these pureblood snobs die of jealousy.”

You leaned in closer. “It’s working.”

The world fell away—faded music, fading whispers, fading walls. There was only the feel of his hand against your back, the way he was looking at you like you were the only thing in the room.

And somewhere between one step and the next…

You stopped pretending.

And Draco?

He’d stopped long before that.

⊱ ─── ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ ─── ⊰

masterlist!

[nerdlvr]

✩ 10 points for hufflepuff !

(MDNI)

smut , hufflepuff!haechan x slytherin!reader (typical) , created this from my 5 books worth of harry potter knowledge pls forgive me , had to throw one merlin's beard in there or else what harry potter au would this be , backshots on a school desk , they're all over the age of 18 tyvm , big dick hyuck (canon) , cocky kinda mean reader , nervous whiny hyuck , unprotected sex , creampie , mentions at the end of renjun and a surprise hufflepuff haha... , requested here !

"wouldn't it be fun to fuck one of those little oafs?"

you rolled your eyes at your very distracted friend, his gaze directed at the table across from yours,

"jun, what are you on about now? focus, and stop thinking about ruining those poor hufflepuffs."

he scoffed, "don't act like you don't think about shagging those pretty little idiots, hearts so big, yet their brains just oh so tiny."

you continued to scribble on your piece of parchment, not wanting to spare a glance at renjun. if only he knew the things you did to lee donghyuck.

.

you dangled the key's to snape's classroom in front of his face, a wide grin spreading on your lips.

"wha-what if we get caught- snape would kill us if he-"

you shushed him, fingers fidgeting with the rusty key, "good thing snape isn't here then, hm?"

he bit his lip, now silent as he followed you into the empty classroom, a small breeze making him shiver.

"this really isn't a good idea y/n, i should be doing my prefect duties around this time-" he pushed his glasses up before flicking his wrist out to check his watch.

you snorted at his dorky attitude, reaching for his hand to pull him towards a desk, "i have a duty for you mr. prefect-"

you pulled at his tie, loosening the tight accessory, "i have a little issue between my legs-"

you fake pouted, fighting a smile as he nodded dumbly, "and you're the only one that can help me fix it-"

he melted into your grasp, hands gripping the sides of the desk as you palmed him through his pants, "can you help me hyuck? please?"

he gulped, clearly hesitant, but he nodded nonetheless, eager to please you, "o-okay, we just- just need to be quick."

it's not like he didn't want to fuck you, he just didn't think you were actually serious. but now as you shimmied onto the desk, dragging your panties down your legs, he thought that if this was a joke then it was a damn good one.

"donghyuck? are you just gonna stare?" you giggled as he smacked his lips together, mouth dry as his eyes ran down your body, landing straight on your glistening core.

he felt his dick twitch in his pants, hands moving quickly to remove his belt, a new sudden hunger burning in his stomach. "quick- quick- we need to be quick-" he flicked his wrist again, checking the time, "this won't do-" he pulled your hips off the desk, turning you around, ass on full display as he flipped your skirt up.

"now you better be quiet or i swear- oh fuck-" his little speech was cut short as you gripped onto the base of his cock, lining him up against your dripping cunt,

"shut up and fuck me hyuck."

he nodded, more to himself than to you as you turned back around to grip onto the desk, wiggling your ass against his leaky tip,

"shit shit shit-" his whiny voice echoed against the classroom walls as he sank himself into your wet heat, your soft walls squeezing him just right. you felt his head drop against your back, shaky hands gripping at the fabric of your skirt.

"merlin's beard, how are you so tight- ahhh- don't do that!" his grip tightened as you playfully squeezed around him, his hips stuttering against your ass as he bottomed out.

you wanted to be cocky, maybe even give a quick mocking comment, but donghyuck's cock filled you to the brim. your body laid slack against the desk, legs growing weak as he rutted into you, only pressing himself deeper into your sopping cunt. "h-hyuck, move, please."

he nodded, again, more to himself than to you, and began to pull out of you, a loud hissing sound emitting from both of you.

"so, so, so, tight, feels s' good." he slurred his words as he began to slap his hips against your ass, keeping his thrusts shallow to avoid any extra noise echoing throughout the dungeon.

you bit your hand to muffle you moans, back arched against donghyuck's stomach, his arms wrapped around your waist as he fucked into you.

"i can't- can't-" the room filled with donghyuck's babbling, drool spilling from the corners of his mouth onto your dress shirt as he squeezed his eyes shut, focused on the feeling of you sucking him in.

"h-hyuck faster, fast-" his hips picked up in speed, any concern about noise being flung out the window as the loud slapping of you ass against him filled the room.

you gripped onto the desk, the flimsy table shaking and creaking beneath you as donghyuck abused your cunt, thick cock stretching your walls as he pulsed inside of you, "hyuck, hyuck, hyuck, i'm close please- please don't stop."

you slipped your hand in between your legs, fingers rubbing against your sensitive bud. your moans grew louder as he reached for your thigh, pulling your leg up to rest on the table. the new angle made him feel impossibly deeper, the head of his cock kissing your cervix as he continued to slam his hips against yours,

"cum for me- please- need it so bad- i'm gonna come y/n- please."

you felt your body tense, eyes rolling to the back of your head as your mouth hung open in a silent moan. his knuckles turned white from how hard he gripped your skirt, deep moans leaving his mouth as he filled you with his cum, your cunt gently milking him as you finished around him.

"so good, so so good baby- did so good." his rough hands massaged you hips, his lips planting light kissed to the back of your head.

your leg fell from the table and he leaned against you back, breath heavy as he slipped out of you, his cum dripping slowly onto the stone floor,

"10 points for hufflepuff!" you raised your finger weakly, giving your best dumbledore impression.

"just 10?" your soft giggles filled the room, his body shaking softly against yours, when-

"well snape isn't here is he?"

the chatty voice of your best friend filled the room as he slipped in with a familiar tall muscular bimbo.

"oh my god that's jeno!" donghyuck whispered against your back, his hand coming up to pull you down onto the floor,

"we have to go now! renjun moves quick, lets go- go!" you whisper shouted to hyuck as he crawled behind you towards the exit, not forgetting to pocket your soaked green panties.

who said prefects couldn't have a little fun?

[cupidddd-d]

oh heart, and then it falls

in which theodore nott is actually nice to you?

gn reader but it's mentioned that they wear lip gloss !!

"ow, fuck!" you cried out as your potion bubbled over the edge of the cauldron, oozing onto your hand. tears of pain sprung to your eyes, and you could already feel the burns forming underneath the thick sludge sitting on your skin.

"nott, you were supposed to be watching the potion while i wrote notes!" embarrassingly, your voice broke, and you could feel a tear dripping down your face. your notes were ruined, your hand was burnt, you were crying in front of the boy who was most likely to make fun of you for it, and your potion was completely unsalvageable. you may have been hallucinating, but you could have sworn that you could smell burnt flesh.

"huh?" theodore's head jolted up from his conversation with draco. his eyes glanced from your hand to your face, and then back down again. "merlin...we've got to get you to the hospital wing..."

you walked in silence as he led you out of the hospital wing, staring down at where he was applying bandages to your hand. he had poured a numbing potion over the wound, but memories of your previous pain echoed around your body.

"why are you doing this, nott?" your mouth was dry as you stared down at his gentle movements. what happened to the boy who practically fed off of your despair?

"i mean...i'm not a total monster. i don't like you, but it's not like i want you to be hurt." he let out a little scoff, his eyes darting to the side.

"could've fooled me," you rolled your eyes. "remember that time when you pushed my head into the cake on my birthday?" a little smirk was starting to cross your lips.

"that was 9 years ago, and i apologized!" he protested, a matching grin growing on his face.

"only after your mother forced you to," you retorted, rolling your eyes.

"at least i still apologized, right?" he shrugged, giving you a charming, well-practiced smile.

"shame, i still don't accept your apology," you mused.

the two of you sat in silence for a moment, letting him fully concentrate on fixing your hand.

"why are you doing this, nott?" you asked again, the question still weighing on your mind. for some reason, his previous answer didn't feel like the full truth. your eyes bore into his, your gaze so beseeching that it makes him divert his attention back to your bandaged hands.

"you know why." he said simply. quietly. his eyes were dark as they flit back to yours.

you inhaled sharply. if he was saying what you think he's saying... "no, i don't." your voice came out trembly and embarrassingly weak, and you kicked yourself mentally.

"i don't really have to spell it out for you, do i?" he was moving closer and closer. "stop me if you don't want this--and you should probably do it now, because i've waited so long for this moment, i think this might be your only opportunity."

his breath was fanning your lips now, his gaze stuck on your parted lips. you leaned in, and that was all it took for him to dive into you. his lips seared into yours, the kiss fervent. his hands were everywhere, cupping your jaw, pulling your waist to bring you closer to him, wrapping in your hair.

your eyes were wide as he pulled back, a smug smirk on his face as he licked his lips. "what is that, cherry flavored lip gloss?"

"nott-" you managed to stutter out.

"come on, darling. after what we just did, i'd expect us to be past the last-name basis." he snickered, leaning down to capture your lips with his once again.

[mrsriddlenott]

okay I just need pussydrunk mattheo 🥵

It is honestly embarrassing how long this has been in my drafts unfinished(literally a few days over a year🤦‍♀️) I have been awol for so long but I have been GOIN through it y’all. I think I can finally at least try and actually come back to this blog. I love writing so much and I hate when it just isn’t fun anymore. And when I saw this I actually got excited to finish it so let’s see how it goes. Please correct mistakes and give feedback

Warnings: suggestive content but not actually full smut, public oral(f!receiving), heavy petting, play argument/kinda roleplay, some teasing.

{masterlist}

~Needy~

To plenty of people having a needy boyfriend would be the end of the world. But when that boyfriend is Mattheo Riddle, who seems to have an unnaturally high labido and stamina, it’s more of a pro rather than a con.

But what comes with needy is clingy. Mattheo just needs his hands on you whenever he can. You weren’t complaining but he certainly was. There was just too much time out of the day that he couldn’t touch you. So me made sure to cut thay time down as much as he could.

“Come oooon Baby” Mattheo groaned as he tugged you towards an empty, shadow filled corridor, “Just think about it, how many days a week do we have Potions, and how many weeks are in a term, how many terms in a school year….we can miss one hour of Potions Baby it’ll be fine. Plus you’re the smartest, prettiest, hottest person at this school you’ve got options for you future.”

“Um first of all,” You start, crossing your arms across your chest, poking your hip out to make Mattheo groan out loud as he restrains himself from touching you, “This will be the fourth time we missed Potions so far this term, and second of all who said I was worried for my future, nuh uh Baby I’m worried about yours.”

“Merlin you’re sexy when you’re being all bossy”Mattheo sighs, stepping closer to you and fanning your face with his breath, “I don’t care about my future as long as you’re in it, I need to keep you excited don’t I Princess?” He laughs out as he watches your resolve melt away, moving his hand up to grip your waste.

“That’s no fair.” You pout, desperately trying to hold a straight face as you continue, “You know you’re not allowed to call me Princess in an argument, you always win with that.” Mattheo sighs dramatically and steps even closer to you, breathing your air as he holds your hip tightly, tugging you into him aggressively.

“I’m so sorry baby, please forgive me,” He begs dramatically, smiling before dipping his head into the crook beside your shoulder to trace small pecks across your collarbone, forcing a moan to slip past your lips despite your pretend protests.

“How could I ever forgive you for such a lapse Mattheo,” you smile at how fast he halts his mouths assault of your collarbone giving you time to slip your fingers into his raven curls, giving them a tug to force his eyes up to yours, “You know, I can think of something you can do to earn my forgiveness.”

“What?” He rasps out, his breath caught in his chest at the feeling of your hand in his hair and the other slowly slipping down his chest at an agonizing pace, “What can I do to make you feel better Baby, I’ll do anything for you, you know that.” His voice his breathy and desperate, sending heat down your abdomen as your thighs squeeze together subconsciously. At the gentle shove to his shoulder, Mattheo knew exactly what you wanted, smirking as you looked down to him where he leant into you with those pretend innocent eyes. Mattheo fell to his knees immediately, his hands tracing their way under your skirt while his eyes stay on yours.

“Is this what you’re asking for…Princess?” Mattheo asks, smirking as he gains dominance from below you, “You want me to make you feel good?….But Baby what about Potions, we-we can’t miss class i-it’s impo-“ You cut off his teasing with a tug to his hair and small sigh at the feeling of his hand ghosting across your underwear. Mattheo groans, his eyes falling into the back of his head as your fingers tighten in his hair.

“Okay okay, I’ve got you Princess.” He laughs breathlessly as his fingers tug your underwear down your legs, allowing you to step out of them before he shoves them in his pocket with a wink. In a flash Mattheo has his lips on you, his head vanishing under your skirt, his hand trailing upward to squeeze at your chest through your button up, the other gripping your thigh to give you support as you begin to wobble.

“Oh fuck Mattheo,” You moan loudly before clamping your hand over your mouth, almost forgetting your very public location at the feeling of Mattheo’s tongue meticulously swirling around your clit. His chuckle from below almost pisses you off enough to fight for dominance but as though to wipe your mind of it, Mattheo flattens his tongue and leaves a strip up your heat, making you whimper into your hand and bite your skin to prevent getting caught.

You shake as Mattheo’s fingernails dig into the skin of your thigh while it wobbles, unsteady as you begin to lose balance at the fast pace of Mattheo’s tongue, “Fuck Baby, can you stand or do I need to hold you?” He chuckles against you at your whine of protest, not wanting him to stop even for a second. Mattheo quickly tugs your thigh over his shoulder, allowing him to gain more access, speeding up his actions, moaning at your taste and the thought of you coming on his face as you depend on him to hold you steady. Your head falls back against the stone wall, your eyes rolling backward as your hand falls to his shoulders for balance not caring anymore about your volume. Your little whimpers and squeaks drive him insane below you, he knows your close, he can feel it.

Without warning Mattheo shifts lower, shoving his tongue into you, lowering his hand from your chest in a flash and using his thumb to stimulate your clit as his tongue moves in and out of you, matching his own pace and groaning as he feels your legs begin to shake for him. Your moans become screams as you release on his tongue, falling into his hold while he rises to look at your post-orgasm face he loves so much.

“Good thing we did this during class, someone might have heard otherwise.” Mattheo says simply with a laugh as you weakly smack at his broad shoulder.

~~~~

Pretty short compared to others I have but I just really wanted to start posting again. I’m probably gonna be cleaning out my drafts and trying to get them out even old ones ppl probably aren’t waiting on anymore to try and get back into a groove on here.

[iamgonnagetyouback]

Hello!! Could you do a Regulus x Reader who is Barty's twin sister, maybe? It can be, like, just Barty being veeery dramatic his best friend is dating his "Precious Treasure, baby sister Y/N"

(If you want, could you do reader as Ravenclaw? I am one myself so that's why haha)

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ⠀────۶ৎ defiled

synopsis: you’ve been sneaking around with regulus for weeks, but barty, bless his heart, finally catches you. after a series of over-the-top reactions, failed attempts to intimidate regulus, and a very official list of dating rules, barty still isn’t convinced—but that won’t stop you and regulus from having your fun content warnings: barty being overdramatic™, evan suffering through it all author's note: hey, lovie!! thank you so much for requesting. it is a non-specified house so you can go with ravenclaw if you want ♡ hope you love it, doll—mwah!! ‹𝟹

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ᡣ𐭩 words.ᐟ 818

You’d been sneaking off to meet Regulus for weeks under the guise of “study sessions.” Barty, bless his oblivious heart, bought it every time. But today, as fate would have it, you and Regulus were actually studying. You were sitting across from each other, surrounded by books, and for once, neither of you had so much as brushed hands.

Then the door burst open with a bang, and Barty stormed in, dragging a nonchalant-looking Evan at his side.

“REGULUS BLACK!” Barty bellowed, face red, practically foaming at the mouth. “HOW DARE YOU—”

You and Regulus jerked up, blinking at him with wide eyes. “Uh, Barty?” you ventured, pushing your Transfiguration book aside. “What’s wrong?”

Barty froze mid-rant, taking in the scene. The neatly aligned notes. The genuine, palpable… studying.

“Oh.” He cleared his throat, eyes darting from you to Regulus and back, as if desperately seeking a hint of anything he could use against the Slytherin. “I… uh. Right.” He looked at Evan, hoping for support.

“Yes,” Evan said blandly, “it looks very… scandalous, Barty.”

With an awkward cough and a dramatic hair toss, Barty turned on his heel, leaving the room as though he hadn’t just made a grand scene. You and Regulus waited a beat after the door clicked shut, then sighed in unison, sharing a relieved laugh.

But, naturally, peace was never meant to last.

A week later, you and Regulus finally let your guard down. You’d snuck into a secluded corner, exchanging long, soft kisses, when a horrified gasp echoed through the corridor.

“OH, MY TREASURED, PRECIOUS SISTER!” Barty’s voice thundered as he gaped at the two of you, Evan standing dutifully by his side with an unreadable expression. “ARE YOU SEEING THIS, EVAN?”

“Yes, Barty,” Evan deadpanned, “it’s… devastating. Truly. I may cry.”

Barty’s hand flew to his forehead, looking seconds from fainting. “REGULUS BLACK, YOU FILTHY SCOUNDREL! HOW DARE YOU—”

“Oh, Merlin,” you muttered, pulling away from Regulus, face red with a mix of irritation and embarrassment. “Barty, please, it’s not that serious.”

“NOT THAT SERIOUS?” Barty’s eyes were wild. “My baby sister! My delicate, angelic sister, defiled by—by him!”

Evan’s lips twitched as he watched the spectacle, glancing at Regulus, who was entirely amused. “Well, you’re not wrong, Barty. It’s horrific.”

You huffed, crossing your arms with a smirk, looking every bit as sassy as Regulus. Barty, unable to handle it, marched off with a huff, refusing to speak to either of you. For the next week, he only addressed you both through Evan.

“Evan, tell her I refuse to be betrayed by my own blood.”

“Evan, tell Black he can burn in the deepest pits of Azkaban.”

Evan looked mildly entertained, relaying each line with a deadpan that had you and Regulus nearly in stitches every time.

Finally, though, when you and Regulus refused to go groveling back, Barty stormed up to the two of you in the common room, brandishing a very long list of what he called “The Rules of Courtship According to Barty Crouch Jr.”

“Listen, you two!” he declared, waving his list like a sword. “If you want to keep dating, you’ll have to agree to my conditions.”

You raised an eyebrow, crossing your arms. “Alright, Barty. Let’s hear them.”

He cleared his throat, glancing at Evan for dramatic emphasis. “Condition one: Regulus shall send me weekly updates regarding his intentions.”

Regulus smirked, nodding with faux seriousness. “Of course, Barty. I’ll draft a parchment immediately.”

“Condition two,” Barty continued, “any romantic gesture that may involve public displays of affection will be cleared by me first.”

You bit back a laugh, looking at Regulus, who gave you a wink. “Completely understandable,” you replied, struggling to keep a straight face.

“Condition three: If Regulus breaks your heart,” Barty paused, swallowing, “I reserve the right to challenge him to a wizard’s duel.”

Evan rolled his eyes. “Very noble of you, Barty.”

Barty ignored him, watching you both expectantly. “Do we have a deal?”

Regulus put a hand on his heart, leaning in toward you with mock reverence. “If that’s what it takes to keep you, love,” he murmured, looking like he was seconds away from laughing.

You turned to Barty with a playful smile, saluting him with a mischievous sparkle in your eyes. “Deal, Barty. I’ll keep your conditions in mind.”

Barty huffed, looking pleased with himself but suspicious, muttering under his breath about how “it better be taken seriously.” But as he stomped off with Evan in tow, you and Regulus just exchanged a look, barely managing to hold in your laughter until he was out of earshot.

And for the next few weeks, Barty would “accidentally” stumble upon you two in the most innocent scenarios—Regulus helping you with homework, walking you to class, even reading quietly together in the common room. He would leave with an awkward salute or finger guns every time he was deemed wrong.

© iamgonnagetyouback ⋆.˚ please do not copy, translate, or repost any of my work.

[charmed-quill]

The Bet// F.W x Reader

authors note at end.

summary: Fred Weasley and y/n make a bet: whoever gets a date to the Yule Ball first wins. But what starts as harmless competition devolves into full-blown war.

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word count: 6.2k

The Yule Ball had been the only thing anyone could talk about for the past few hours. Every conversation in the common room seemed to circle back to it, who was going to ask who, what everyone would wear, and, most importantly, who would end up going alone.

Y/n sat curled up in one of the cushy armchairs by the fire, pretending to be absorbed in her book. The flames flickered, casting a warm glow over the common room, but she wasn’t really reading, she was listening. 

Fred and George were sprawled across the couch nearby, talking in the way they always did: half-serious, half-dramatic, and entirely too loud.

"Everyone’s gonna be in a frenzy tomorrow morning," Fred said, stretching his arms behind his head.

George frowned, his brow furrowing slightly. "How do you mean?"

Fred waved a hand around vaguely. "You know," he said, searching for the right words, "like... everyone’s gonna be scrambling to get a date before all the good ones are taken."

At that, y/n finally glanced up, raising an eyebrow. "Why would they be scrambling?" she asked, feigning ignorance even though she already knew the answer.

Fred let out a sigh, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "Because no one wants to be the last one left without a date," he said, like it was some kind of universal truth. "Gotta snatch up the best options before they’re all gone."

Y/n scoffed, closing her book and resting it on her lap. "Define ‘good ones.’"

Her voice had that familiar teasing edge to it, and she narrowed her eyes just slightly, watching as Fred hesitated for a second too long. He always got flustered when she turned her full attention on him, and she found no small amount of amusement in that.

George, of course, was thoroughly entertained, smirking as he watched Fred try to think of a response.

"You know," Fred said eventually, shrugging like it was no big deal. "Fun ones. People you can actually stand being around for an entire night."

Y/n hummed thoughtfully, tapping a finger against the cover of her book. "So what, if you wait too long, you’re stuck with someone unbearable?"

Fred opened his mouth, then shut it again, realizing too late that anything he said now could get him into trouble. George chuckled under his breath, clearly enjoying watching his twin dig himself into a hole.

"That’s not what I meant," Fred tried to backtrack. "Just" He sighed, shaking his head. "You’re twisting my words."

Y/n grinned, leaning back in her chair. "Am I?"

Fred rolled his eyes, but there was no real frustration behind it. It was just how their dynamic worked, Fred talked too much, and y/n made it her mission to make him regret it.

"So," George cut in, glancing between them. "You’ve got a plan, then? Gonna ask someone first thing in the morning?"

Y/n snorted. "Please. I don’t even know who I’d ask."

Fred raised an eyebrow, tilting his head at her. "You’re kidding."

"Dead serious," y/n said, stretching her legs out in front of her. "Haven’t really thought about it."

George let out a low whistle. "Risky move. Someone might snatch up all the ‘good ones’ before you get the chance."

Y/n rolled her eyes but smirked. "Guess I’ll just have to settle for one of you two, then."

Fred and George exchanged a look before Fred gasped dramatically, pressing a hand to his chest. "Merlin’s beard, George, we’re her last resort!"

George sighed, shaking his head. "Tragic, really."

Y/n laughed, nudging Fred’s foot with her own. "Yeah, yeah, laugh it up. It’s not like either of you have dates yet, either."

Fred opened his mouth to argue, then hesitated. "Alright, fair point."

George grinned. "Maybe we should be scrambling."

Y/n stretched her arms over her head before smirking at the twins, her book long forgotten in her lap. "I won’t be scrambling," she said breezily. "I basically have to beat the guys away with a stick."

Fred scoffed loudly, crossing his arms as he leaned back against the couch. "As if." He shot her a challenging grin, that familiar mischievous glint in his eye. "I bet I can get a date before you can even say ‘Yule Ball.’"

Y/n sat up a little straighter, the flicker of competition sparking in her chest. She knew that look, Fred Weasley never backed down from a challenge, and honestly? Neither did she.

"Oh yeah?" she said, raising an eyebrow. "You wanna shake on it?"

Fred’s grin widened, his head tilting slightly. "What are the stakes?"

Y/n paused, tapping a finger against her chin as she considered. It had to be something good, something that would really make losing painful.

"Whoever loses has to be the winner’s personal assistant for a week," she finally declared, a smug smile creeping onto her lips. "Anything they need; carrying books, fetching snacks, covering for them when they’re late to class."

George let out a low whistle. "That’s dangerous," he mused, glancing between them with amusement. "I like it."

Fred, however, didn’t even hesitate. He barely took a second to think before sticking his hand out toward her. "You’re on."

Y/n grinned as she clasped his hand firmly, shaking it once. The deal was set.

As she leaned back in her chair, she couldn’t help but feel a thrill of excitement. This wasn’t just about getting a date anymore, this was about winning. And if there was one thing she loved just as much as messing with Fred Weasley, it was beating him at his own game.

—

The next morning, y/n was up before the sun had fully risen, determination settling deep in her chest.

She was going to win this bet.

She was going to win this bet and rub it in Fred’s stupid, smug face.

Her uniform was neat, her tie perfectly knotted, and her shoes freshly shined as she practically bounced down the stairs toward the Great Hall. The air was crisp, and the halls were still relatively empty, most students weren’t quite awake yet, dragging themselves toward breakfast like they were being led to execution.

Not her, though. She had a plan.

Sliding into her usual seat at the Gryffindor table, she ate with purpose, shoveling food into her mouth while her mind worked through her options. She started categorizing potential dates, ranking them from most to least likely to say yes.

She briefly considered asking George, he’d say yes in a heartbeat, if only to reap the benefits of her inevitable victory, but she scrapped the idea just as quickly. Where was the fun in that? No, she wanted to win properly.

By the time the Great Hall had started filling up with groggy students, she had made her decision.

Daniel Scott, a Hufflepuff in her year, was her best shot. It was no secret he fancied her, and she had a feeling he’d jump at the opportunity to go with her. 

Easy.

Just as she was about to finalize her approach, a familiar presence slid into the seat beside her. 

Fred.

He was as casual as ever, hair still slightly tousled from sleep, his tie half done like he couldn’t be bothered to fix it properly. He snatched up her half-full glass of orange juice, finishing it off with a satisfied sigh before turning to her with that lazy, infuriatingly confident smile.

"Are you preparing yourself for defeat?" he asked, setting the glass down with a soft clink. "I take my tea with extra milk, by the way, since you’ll be fetching it for me all next week."

Y/n rolled her eyes. "You’re awfully cocky for someone who hasn’t even secured a date yet."

Fred just grinned wider, leaning in slightly. "Neither have you."

She shot him a smirk, picking up a piece of toast as she stood from the table. "Give it ten minutes."

With that, she sauntered off, feeling Fred’s gaze follow her as she made her way toward the Hufflepuff table. 

Game on.

Daniel," y/n said, her voice sweet as honey as she shot the boy a dazzling smile.

He froze, mid-bite into his toast, eyes widening like a deer caught in wandlight.

This was going to be easy.

"I was wondering if you wanted to go to the ball with me?" she asked, tilting her head slightly, letting just the right amount of charm seep into her voice.

Daniel gulped, his fingers tightening around his fork. His eyes darted around the table, as if searching for an escape.

"I—uh, well—" His face turned an alarming shade of red, and he suddenly found great interest in the surface of the table.

Y/n frowned, confused by his hesitation. This was Daniel Scott. The same Daniel Scott who had stammered through at least three separate compliments about her hair just last week. The same Daniel Scott who could barely meet her eyes without turning pink. There was absolutely no reason he wouldn’t say yes.

Unless

Her stomach dropped as Daniel cleared his throat, his voice barely above a whisper. "I, um, I heard from—uh, someone that you—er—only asked me because you lost a bet."

Y/n blinked, her head jerking back slightly. "What?"

"I just—I mean, it’s fine if you did," Daniel rushed to say, still avoiding her gaze. "I just—Fred Weasley mentioned something about it before breakfast, and—uh—I just don’t want to be anyone’s backup plan."

Her entire body went still.

Fred.

That absolute menace.

Y/n clenched her jaw, inhaling deeply through her nose before forcing a tight-lipped smile. "I see. Well, thanks anyway, Daniel."

Before he could stammer out another apology, she turned on her heel and marched straight back to the Gryffindor table.

Fred was right where she left him, lounging in his seat like he hadn’t just completely sabotaged her. He was halfway through a piece of toast when he caught sight of her storming toward him.

"You," she hissed, planting her hands on the table as she loomed over him. "Sabotage? Really?"

Fred grinned, entirely unbothered as he leaned back. "Oh, come on, love. You didn’t seriously think I’d play fair, did you?"

She narrowed her eyes, fuming. "That was a dirty play, Weasley."

He shrugged. "It was never off the table."

Y/n exhaled sharply, crossing her arms as she reevaluated everything. Clearly, she had underestimated just how far Fred was willing to go to win this bet.

Fine. If that was how he wanted to play, she’d just have to get creative.

And she would win.

—

The Great Hall had been cleared of its usual long tables, the enchanted ceiling above a dull gray as a storm brewed outside. The Gryffindor students, fourth years and above, stood in two separate lines, girls on one side, boys on the other. The air buzzed with hushed conversations, a mix of excitement and dread hanging between them.

Professor McGonagall was saying something about lions and swans, but y/n wasn’t listening.

She was too busy plotting.

Fred’s little stunt with Daniel still had her seething, and if he thought she was just going to take the loss quietly, he had severely underestimated her.

Fred had made his move first, and now it was her turn.

She spotted him cutting across the floor toward Angelina, steps sure and confident. Oh, no. That wouldn’t do at all.

Without hesitation, she swooped in, looping her arms around him and settling his hands on her waist before he could protest.

Fred blinked in surprise before narrowing his eyes. "What are you doing?"

Y/n smiled up at him. "Playing the game."

His fingers twitched against her waist. "And what exactly is your next move?"

She shrugged, shifting slightly as the music picked up. "Haven’t decided yet. But I figured a little sabotage was in order."

Fred let out a huff, his lips quirking. "So, your grand retaliation is stealing me as a dance partner? That’s weak, y/l/n."

"Not stealing," she corrected smugly. "Intercepting."

He chuckled. "Ah, I see. Is that what you were doing with Daniel earlier? Intercepting?"

Her smile tightened as she shot him a glare. "Oh, you mean the boy you so graciously warned about my ulterior motives?"

Fred smirked. "Oh, did I do that? Hm. Must’ve slipped out."

"Sabotage wasn’t part of the deal, Weasley."

"Wasn’t excluded either."

Y/n exhaled sharply, shaking her head as they spun in time with the music. "You really don’t fight fair, do you?"

"Absolutely not," he admitted easily. "And neither should you, if you want to win."

Y/n hummed, as if considering. "Noted."

Fred tilted his head slightly. "So what’s next, then? Surely you didn’t just drag me away from Angelina to lecture me on fair play."

She smiled, slow and deliberate. "Wouldn’t you like to know?"

Fred eyed her, lips twitching. "Oh, I would."

They moved across the floor smoothly, the space between them filled with unspoken challenges. Y/n glanced at his tie, still barely holding itself together, as if he had done it in a hurry that morning. Typical.

With a smirk, she reached up, fingers deftly undoing the sloppy knot and tightening it properly.

Fred stilled slightly, brow furrowing. "What are you—"

"Fixing it," she muttered, patting his chest once satisfied. "Honestly, Fred, do you even try?"

"Not when I have someone to do it for me," he quipped, grinning.

Y/n rolled her eyes, stepping back as the music faded. "Enjoy the dance, Weasley. I’ve got work to do."

She turned on her heel and strode off, already formulating her next move.

Fred watched her go, adjusting the tie she had just fixed. He shook his head with a quiet chuckle, already anticipating whatever chaos she had planned next.

—-

Fred was feeling good about Amelia Roberts.

Smart, sharp-witted, and completely unaware of his ongoing war with y/n.

She was laughing at something he’d said, her blue eyes twinkling under the candlelight of the courtyard lanterns. Progress.

Fred leaned against the stone railing, flashing his signature smirk. "So, what do you say, Roberts? Yule Ball with me? Best decision you’ll make all year."

Amelia smiled, tilting her head in consideration.

And then

Two warm arms wrapped around his waist from behind.

Fred stiffened.

"Oh, there you are, sweetheart!"

His stomach dropped.

No.

Absolutely not.

Y/n practically melted into his side, resting her head against his shoulder with the ease of someone who had done this a thousand times before.

Fred didn’t even have time to react before she turned her sweetest, most innocent smile toward Amelia.

"Oh, Amelia!" y/n gushed, gripping Fred’s arm like he was the love of her life. "I love that you and Freddie are such good friends! Ever since we started secretly dating, I was so worried that people would suspect, but you—" she clasped a hand over her heart, voice dripping with sincerity, "you have been so supportive!"

Fred choked. "What—NO—"

Amelia’s entire expression changed in an instant.

Her smile vanished, replaced with suspicion. "Secretly dating?"

Fred tried to pull away from y/n, but she only tightened her grip, shooting him a warning glance that said if you move, I will make this worse.

Her head tilted slightly as she turned to him, eyes suddenly filled with mock devastation.

"Freddie," she whispered, voice breaking just a little. "Are you ashamed of us?"

Fred froze.

Oh.

Oh, this was bad.

He looked back at Amelia, who now had her arms firmly crossed, her gaze icy.

"No," Fred said quickly, "no, I am absolutely NOT dating her—"

"Freddie!" y/n gasped, turning every single pair of eyes in the courtyard onto them. "I cannot believe you would deny me like this! After all we’ve been through?"

Fred was actually speechless. His mouth opened, then closed, then opened again—but nothing came out.

Y/n sighed dramatically, looking to Amelia as if she were the only one who could understand her pain.

"You have to forgive him," y/n said solemnly. "It’s just… so difficult for him. The constant attention, the pressure of keeping this a secret… He wanted to tell people" she sniffled, "really, he did"

"Yeah, I don’t do cheaters," Amelia muttered, already stepping away.

Fred’s entire body jerked forward in panic. "Wait—no, I—"

But Amelia had already turned on her heel and walked away.

Fred stood there, still partially trapped in y/n’s grasp, his brain short-circuiting from what had just happened.

Slowly, his head turned toward her.

Y/n beamed up at him, looking immensely pleased with herself.

She patted his shoulder, smiling sweetly. "Oops."

Fred exhaled deeply. "I hate you."

"No, you don’t," y/n said, sing-songing as she walked away.

Fred groaned, slumping against the railing.

He needed a new plan. Immediately.

—

Y/n had spent the entire morning planning her approach. She’d decided that Thomas Greaves, a quiet but friendly Ravenclaw, would be her best shot. He wasn’t the type to make a huge fuss, and she figured she had a pretty solid chance at getting a yes.

She spotted him just outside the Great Hall, standing near the entrance, looking over a rolled-up parchment, probably last-minute homework. Perfect.

Straightening her tie and putting on her most charming smile, she strode toward him with confidence.

"Hey, Thomas!" she greeted brightly, tucking her hands behind her back as she rocked on her heels. "Got a second?"

Thomas looked up, blinking behind his glasses. "Oh—uh, yeah. What’s up?"

Y/n grinned, already sensing victory. "So, I was wondering if you’d like to go to the Yule Ball with me?"

Before Thomas could even process what she was saying, a familiar arm slung itself over his shoulder.

"Oi, Tommy boy!"

Y/n’s stomach dropped.

Fred.

Of course it was Fred.

"Mate, I haven’t seen you all morning," Fred said, giving Thomas a heavy pat on the back, his voice dripping with fake concern. "Are you feeling alright?"

Thomas frowned. "Uh—yeah? I think so?"

Fred gasped, clutching his chest dramatically. "Oh, thank Merlin! When I heard about your—" he dropped his voice to a conspiratorial whisper, "condition, I thought you’d still be in the hospital wing!"

Y/n narrowed her eyes. "Fred, don’t you have somewhere else to be?"

Fred ignored her, turning back to Thomas with a solemn nod. "Bravest bloke I know," he said. "I mean, most people wouldn’t even show their face after spotted wandrot."

Thomas froze. "Spotted what?"

Fred sighed, shaking his head sadly. "Oh, mate, no need to be embarrassed. Madam Pomfrey said she’d never seen a case spread so quickly. And to think, you’re walking around like nothing happened." He wiped an imaginary tear from his eye. "Inspiring, really."

Y/n clenched her jaw. "Fred—"

"Though, of course," Fred continued thoughtfully, stroking his chin, "it is highly contagious. Wouldn’t want to pass that on, right?"

Thomas visibly paled.

"Wait—what? I—I don’t have—"

Fred gasped. "Oh no! Did Pomfrey not tell you? I thought she was supposed to give you the full debrief." He turned to y/n, shaking his head. "You’d think they’d at least warn the poor guy before sending him off to infect the whole school."

Thomas took a full step away from both of them, his expression stricken. "I—I have to go—"

Before y/n could stop him, Thomas bolted into the Great Hall like a man fleeing for his life.

She stood there in stunned silence, processing what had just happened.

Then she turned, eyes blazing, to Fred, who stood beside her looking utterly pleased with himself.

"You," she seethed. "Are the worst."

Fred smirked, stuffing his hands into his pockets. "Better luck next time, love."

And with that, he sauntered off, whistling a cheerful tune, leaving y/n fuming on the steps of the Great Hall.

–

Fred had been extra careful this time. He had barely spoken about his next move to anyone, not even George, not even Lee. He was playing this one quietly, which, for him, was practically impossible.

But he wasn’t about to let y/n get the better of him again.

That’s why he’d chosen Lily Carter, a friendly and straightforward ravenclaw who, as far as he could tell, had zero history with y/n and no reason to get caught in the crossfire.

It was the perfect setup.

They sat next to each other in Charms, and just as Flitwick turned his back to demonstrate a wand movement, Fred pulled out a small slip of parchment and wrote, in his best and least-sarcastic handwriting:

Oi, Lily, fancy going to the Ball with me?

He folded the note quickly and, with the smoothest flick of his fingers, slid it onto her desk. He kept his eyes trained on his own parchment, waiting, listening.

A pause.

Then a faint rustling as Lily unfolded it.

Fred smirked. This was too easy.

Until—

"Uh… Fred?" Lily whispered, leaning slightly toward him. "Why did you hand me a blank piece of parchment?"

Fred blinked.

He turned his head, looking down at the note in Lily’s hands.

It was completely empty.

Not a single word.

No ink. No invitation.

Nothing.

Fred sat up straighter, now fully awake. "That’s not—" He grabbed his quill, tested it on his own parchment, yep, worked perfectly fine, then squinted at the blank slip. "I—I wrote something, I swear."

Lily gave him a bemused look. "Right. Well, I appreciate the effort, I guess?"

Fred’s brain was scrambling. This wasn’t possible.

Unless—

Oh, for Merlin’s sake.

Slowly, he turned in his seat, craning his neck toward the back of the classroom.

Sure enough, y/n was there, leaning casually on her elbow, watching him with a very self-satisfied smirk.

She lifted her wand slightly, giving it the tiniest twirl.

Fred groaned.

"Y/L/N," he whispered, barely keeping himself from laughing.

Y/n raised an eyebrow as if she had no idea what he was talking about.

Fred turned back around, taking a deep breath.

—

Y/n had planned this perfectly.

She had finally found someone Fred hadn’t gotten to yet, James Dunmore, a charming and easygoing Hufflepuff who was known for being friendly with just about everyone. He was the type who wouldn’t be put off by rumors or sabotage, which made him the perfect candidate.

It was foolproof.

She caught him outside the Herbology greenhouses between classes, brushing a stray leaf off his robes. "Hey, James," she greeted casually.

He grinned. "Hey, y/n. What’s up?"

She exhaled slightly, steeling herself. "So, I was wondering—"

But just as she was about to ask him, the doors of the castle slammed open.

A chorus of heavily off-key voices rang out across the courtyard.

Y/n froze.

Students turned in confusion as four overly enthusiastic first-years in matching pink suits came marching toward her, led by none other than Lee Jordan.

"FRED WEASLEY SENT US TO DELIVER A MESSAGE OF TRUE LOVE!" Lee bellowed.

James took a slow step backward.

Y/n clenched her fists.

Lee gave an exaggerated wave. "Hit it, lads!"

The first-years immediately burst into song:

"Oh, y/n, my darling true," "Your beauty shines, your wit cuts through," "Fred Weasley dreams of you all day," "So please don’t turn and run away!"

Y/n covered her face with her hands.

James looked deeply uncomfortable. "Uh—"

Fred, watching from the entrance, leaned casually against the doorway, arms crossed, smirking like he had just orchestrated the greatest act of war in history.

The first-years weren’t done:

"The Yule Ball’s coming, don’t you see?" "So say yes, my love, and dance with me!" "Fred is waiting, don't delay—" "Or he’ll cry himself away!"

The entire courtyard was now watching.

James chuckled awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck. "Uh, y/n, this—this seems like a lot. Maybe I’ll just—" He gestured vaguely before retreating into the greenhouses at top speed.

Y/n slowly turned on her heel, rage simmering.

Fred grinned at her from across the courtyard.

"Sabotage is such an ugly word," he said smugly. "I prefer to think of this as… performance art."

Y/n narrowed her eyes.

This wasn’t over.

—

Fred was getting too close to winning.

Y/n had already lost three potential dates thanks to his sabotage, and she refused to let him have the last laugh. So, she pulled out her own bag of tricks.

She waited until dinner, when Fred was at his most comfortable, laughing loudly at something George had said while stuffing his face with mashed potatoes.

Perfect.

Sliding into the seat across from him, she leaned in, her tone light and casual. "Hey, Freddie. Have a drink, yeah?"

She pushed a goblet toward him, freshly poured pumpkin juice.

Fred raised an eyebrow. "Awfully nice of you, y/l/n," he mused. "You wouldn’t happen to be poisoning me, would you?"

Y/n rolled her eyes. "You think way too highly of yourself. Drink."

Fred smirked, not one to turn down a freebie, and took a long sip.

Y/n fought to keep her face neutral.

The effects were instantaneous.

Fred blinked once. Then twice. His smirk faltered.

"Y/n," he said slowly. "Why does my mouth feel weird?"

"Oh, no reason," she said, beaming.

George snorted. "What did you do?"

Fred sat up straighter, his hands gripping the table as if he were trying to physically hold back his next words. His expression shifted from suspicion to horror as his mouth opened against his will.

"I KISSED A MIRROR ONCE TO SEE IF I WAS A GOOD KISSER," he shouted.

The entire Gryffindor table went silent.

Fred clamped his hands over his mouth, eyes wild.

Y/n grinned. "Oh, did I forget to mention? That was a Truth Potion."

Fred shook his head violently. "No. Nope. Not happening."

His hands dropped from his face, and suddenly—

"I USED TO HAVE A NIGHTMARE WHERE PROFESSOR MCGONAGALL WAS A GIANT CAT AND CHASED ME AROUND THE CASTLE."

George fell off the bench.

Fred turned to y/n, betrayed. "THIS IS EVIL."

She rested her chin on her palm, enjoying the spectacle. "You started this war, Weasley. Now, tell me, who’s your next target for the Yule Ball?"

Fred tried to fight it, he really did. His entire body tensed, his lips trembled—

"I WAS GOING TO ASK LUCY AINSLEY AFTER DINNER!"

Lucy Ainsley, sitting two seats away, immediately stood up and walked out of the Great Hall.

Fred groaned. "Oh, come on!"

Y/n popped a grape into her mouth, looking very pleased. "Well. Guess you’ll have to try again tomorrow."

Fred glared at her. "I will get you back for this."

Y/n winked. "Looking forward to it, mirror kisser."

—

Y/n was dangerously close to winning the bet.

She had dodged Fred’s last few sabotage attempts, and now she had one final shot, Clarke Roswell, a smart and charming Ravenclaw who had always been friendly toward her. He wasn’t the type to get easily spooked, and Fred hadn’t had time to get to him first.

At least, that’s what she thought.

She found Clarke in the library after dinner, sitting at one of the quieter tables near the windows, scribbling notes on a long parchment. Taking a deep breath, she sat down across from him, flashing her most confident smile.

"Hey, Clarke," she said smoothly.

He looked up, smiling back. "Hey, y/n. What’s up?"

"Well, I was wondering—"

And suddenly, her mouth wouldn’t stop moving.

"WELL, CLARKE, I WAS WONDERING IF YOU WANTED TO GO TO THE YULE BALL WITH ME BUT ALSO I USED TO SLEEP WITH A STUFFED HIPPGRIFF UNTIL THIRD YEAR AND SOMETIMES I STILL DO BUT THAT’S NOT THE POINT—"

Y/n slapped a hand over her mouth, horrified.

Clarke blinked. "...What?"

Her eyes widened in terror as she realised she couldn’t stop talking.

"SORRY I THINK I’VE BEEN HEXED BUT I TOTALLY THINK YOU’RE HANDSOME AND THAT ONE TIME IN POTIONS YOU ROLLED UP YOUR SLEEVES I GOT DISTRACTED AND SPILLED MY INGREDIENTS EVERYWHERE AND PROFESSOR SNAPE GAVE ME DETENTION FOR IT—"

Clarke looked deeply alarmed. "Uh—"

"WAIT NO DON’T LEAVE, I SWEAR I’M NOT A WEIRDO, I JUST THINK YOU HAVE NICE HANDS AND I ALSO ONCE CRIED BECAUSE I DROPPED A SLICE OF PUMPKIN PASTRY ON THE FLOOR AND I STILL THINK ABOUT IT SOMETIMES—"

Clarke was already backing away, his chair screeching against the floor as he practically ran out of the library.

Y/n slammed her forehead onto the table, mortified.

A slow, mocking clap echoed from behind her.

She knew who it was before she even turned around.

Fred Weasley leaned against a bookshelf, arms crossed, looking immensely pleased with himself.

"You know," he mused, "I was really hoping you’d start babbling about me, but that was almost just as good."

Y/n lifted her head just enough to glare at him. "You did this?"

Fred smirked, pulling out his wand and twirling it between his fingers. "A little Babbling Curse, just to make things interesting."

"I hate you," she hissed.

Fred grinned. "Nah, you love me. You said so, right before you mentioned that stuffed Hippogriff of yours,"

Y/n grabbed the nearest book and hurled it at his head.

Fred dodged it with ease, laughing as he ran out of the library, while y/n seethed, already plotting her next move.

—

Fred Weasley was in trouble.

It hit him like a rogue Bludger to the chest as he sat at the Gryffindor table, idly pushing peas around his plate. The Great Hall was filled with buzzing conversations, excited chatter about dress robes, last-minute dates, and who was going with whom.

And then, in a single horrifying moment, he realised.

The Yule Ball was two days away.

And he had no date.

His fork clattered against his plate as his brain kicked into overdrive.

He had spent so much time sabotaging y/n that he had completely forgotten to actually secure a date of his own. He quickly ran through his mental list of possible options.

Amelia Roberts? Gave him a withering glare every time they crossed paths after the “secret relationship” stunt.

Fiona Hayes? Still recovering from the boggart catastrophe and actively avoiding him in the hallways.

Sophia Benson? Thought he was in love with Lee Jordan, so that was a firm no.

Lucy Ainsley? Walked out of the Great Hall after his Truth Potion confession and hadn’t spoken to him since.

Clara Whitmore? Witnessed the public marriage proposal and didn’t want to be anywhere near that mess.

Fred groaned, rubbing his hands down his face. He was officially out of options.

But then

His hands froze.

His mind came to a screeching halt.

There was still one person who was available.

Y/n.

He let the thought settle, blinking rapidly.

Technically… technically, she counted.

She was still open. He was still open.

And after everything they had done to ruin each other’s chances? It was almost poetic.

His lips curled into a slow smirk.

Oh, this was going to be fun.

He pushed his plate aside, standing abruptly. George, mid-bite into a chicken leg, raised an eyebrow. "Where are you off to?"

Fred cracked his knuckles, stretching his arms before rolling his shoulders back. "I’ve got business to handle."

George snorted. "That sounds fake, but alright."

—

Y/n was pacing.

She had spent so much time playing defense against Fred that she had completely neglected to actually secure a date for herself. And now, with only two days until the Yule Ball, she was faced with a horrifying truth:

She had no options left.

Leaning against the stone railing of the Grand Staircase, she furiously ran through every possibility.

Thomas Greaves? Avoided her like she carried a deadly curse.

Noah Bell? Would rather transfer schools than interact with her again.

Liam Fletcher? No. Just—no.

Clarke Roswell? Likely in hiding.

James Dunnmore? Won’t even look at her anymore.

Her stomach twisted.

She was completely out of options.

And then, like a lightning strike, it hit her.

Fred.

Her head snapped up.

Fred was still available.

Technically, he counted.

And after everything they had done to ruin each other’s chances? It was almost fitting.

The second she had the thought, she took off down the corridor, pushing past a few startled second-years.

She had to find him.

She sped through the Grand Staircase, dodging a confused first-year, nearly tripping over a moving step.

Where the hell is he?

This was Fred Weasley, he was always around, always loud, always in the way.

But now, when she needed to find him? Now, when it actually mattered?

Gone.

She gritted her teeth, rounding a sharp corner.

He was moving too fast.

His mind was whirling, his options were gone, he was out of time, and his only way out of this mess was y/n.

It was almost poetic.

Almost.

If he had time to dwell on it, he might have thought about how ridiculous it was that they had wasted weeks sabotaging each other, only to end up in the exact same situation.

But he didn’t have time.

Because he was running, and the second he turned the next corner—

CRASH.

It was instant.

One second, they were both charging full speed ahead.

The next

A solid impact, a tangle of limbs, a sharp oof as they collided full-force into each other.

Y/n stumbled back, slamming into the stone wall, hands gripping Fred’s arms to steady herself.

Fred nearly lost his balance, one hand bracing against the wall beside her head to keep from toppling over.

For a moment, neither of them moved.

They were close. Too close.

The impact had sent her stumbling back against the cold stone wall, and Fred, ever so slightly off balance, had caught himself by bracing a hand against the wall right next to her head.

She blinked.

He blinked.

Neither of them moved.

For a long, stretched-out second, the only sound was the distant chatter of students in the corridors, the faint flicker of torchlight casting warm shadows along Fred’s face.

Y/n swallowed. "You ran into me."

Fred exhaled sharply, amused. "I think you’ll find that you ran into me."

She raised an eyebrow. "You were the one running full speed down the hall like a lunatic—"

"You were also running full speed down the hall," he shot back, a slow smirk curling onto his lips. "Where were you headed, anyway?"

Y/n huffed, finally shifting out of his almost-trapped position. "To find you."

Fred blinked. "Oh."

A beat of silence.

Then, realisation flickered across his face.

"You were coming to—"

"You were also coming to—"

They both froze.

Understanding settled between them.

Fred let out a deep groan, rubbing a hand down his face. "Oh, for Merlin’s sake—"

Y/n snorted, crossing her arms. "I hate this."

"I hate this more," Fred muttered.

A charged silence hung between them.

Y/n cleared her throat. "So."

Fred glanced at her, arms still crossed over his chest. "So."

Her fingers drummed against her sleeve. "I suppose there’s really no way around it, then?"

Fred sighed dramatically, as if the very idea of what he was about to say pained him. "Unfortunately, I don’t think so."

She smirked. "Wow. You sound thrilled."

"Oh, absolutely. Overjoyed."

Another silence. This time, it wasn’t quite as combative.

Fred exhaled, tilting his head slightly, studying her. "You know…" he said, more thoughtful this time, "as much as I hate losing, and as much as I hate you thinking you won—"

Y/n grinned. "So much hate in that sentence, Weasley. Sure you don’t have something else to say?"

Fred ignored her. "I don’t think going to the Ball with you will be that bad."

Y/n raised an eyebrow, tilting her chin up slightly. "That bad?"

Fred gave her a slow, lazy smile. "Well. There’s always a chance I might enjoy myself."

Y/n huffed a laugh, shaking her head. "Don’t get your hopes up, Weasley."

"Oh, my hopes are very low, don’t worry."

A pause.

Then, Fred stuck out his hand, looking almost reluctant but also… maybe something else.

Y/n eyed him, amused. "What is this?"

"A truce," he said, though his lips twitched like he was holding back another smirk.

She considered, tapping a finger against her chin like she was actually debating it.

Then, slowly, she took his hand, shaking it once.

The moment stretched just a bit longer than it needed to.

Her palm was warm against his.

Neither of them let go right away.

Y/n arched an eyebrow. "What? Are we having a moment?"

Fred let out a loud groan, instantly pulling his hand back. "Absolutely not—"

"Sounded like a moment to me"

Fred scowled, but his ears were definitely pink. "See you at the Ball, y/l/n."

Y/n smirked, turning to walk away.

"You better dress nicely, Weasley," she called over her shoulder. "Wouldn’t want people thinking I’m dating a total disaster."

Fred scoffed. "Well, lucky for you"

He hesitated.

Y/n slowed, glancing back. "Lucky for me…?"

Fred rolled his shoulders, smirking again, but softer this time.

"Lucky for you, I look good in anything."

a/n: i hope you guys enjoyed. i am having some serious writers block at the moment im so upset :(

[httpvomitello]

Magical Rivals with a Hidden Crush Character: Draco Malfoy x Y/N Draco and Y/N always clash in class—sarcastic comments, magical duels, constant competition. But behind the rivalry, Draco’s hiding a huge crush. He acts annoyed but secretly watches out for Y/N, gets jealous when others get close, and one day finally blurts out, “Merlin, do you ever stop being perfect?

I hope you like it ~ ♡

Do You Ever Stop Being Perfect? .｡*･ﾟﾟ

Summary: You and Draco Malfoy have clashed since first year—bickering, bantering, always trying to one-up each other in class. But what you don’t know is that behind Draco’s sarcasm and eye-rolls hides a very real, very overwhelming crush. And it’s only a matter of time before it boils over.

draco malfoy x f!reader

You were his favorite headache.

That’s what Draco told himself every time you raised your hand in class just a second faster than him. Every time you rolled your eyes at his sarcastic comments. Every time you challenged him to a duel during practice or muttered something clever under your breath when he passed by.

He hated you.

Except, of course, he didn’t. Not even a little.

He just liked to pretend he did. Because it was easier to scowl than to stammer. Easier to tease than confess. Easier to pretend that the twist in his stomach whenever you laughed was irritation and not the stupid butterflies that had been fluttering since third year.

You weren’t exactly innocent either. You loved getting under his skin. There was something satisfying about the way his jaw clenched every time you corrected him, something thrilling about the fire in his eyes when you beat him at a charm. You couldn’t explain it. You just knew it felt fun. Like a game only the two of you knew the rules to.

And the rest of the school? They were watching.

“Are you two ever not fighting?” Blaise asked one day in the common room, raising a brow as you flounced past Draco, accidentally-on-purpose knocking his books off the couch.

“No,” you said at the same time Draco said, “She started it.”

You grinned. “Only because you’re so easy to provoke, Malfoy.”

His eyes narrowed. “One day, Y/N, I’m going to hex that smug little smile off your face.”

You blew him a kiss. “You’d miss it too much.”

Blaise groaned. “This is exhausting. Just snog and get it over with.”

You choked on a laugh. Draco went silent. Dead silent. His ears turned pink.

He muttered something that sounded suspiciously like "in your dreams" and stalked off toward the stairs, muttering about needing to study.

It wasn’t just class. It was everywhere. The tension followed you like a magnetic storm. In the library, you argued over table space. In the hallway, he bumped your shoulder every time you passed. At meals, you tried to out-snark each other with passive-aggressive comments about the food, your grades, your friends—nothing was off limits.

You didn’t know when it shifted. Maybe it was during that one rainy afternoon when you were stuck in detention with him for arguing mid-transfiguration. You’d thought it would be another shouting match, but instead, he sat next to you in silence, watching the rain hit the window.

“I like the quiet,” you murmured without looking at him.

He nodded. “Me too.”

You didn’t say anything else, but when Filch finally let you leave, you both hesitated in the hallway.

“I don’t actually hate you, you know,” you said softly.

Draco stared at you for a second too long. “Good.”

After that, things changed—but only a little. He was still sarcastic. You were still sharp. But the heat was different now.

He started watching you in class. Not in a creepy way, just... attentive. You caught him more than once glancing your way when you were focused on your work, a slight crease between his brows like he was trying to figure you out.

When you flirted with a Hufflepuff boy during Care of Magical Creatures, he snapped at you afterward for “embarrassing the House,” but you saw the flicker of jealousy in his face. The way his fists clenched. The way he avoided your eyes for the rest of the day.

And you? You liked it more than you should’ve.

You pushed it further. More compliments to other boys. More laughter at jokes he didn’t tell. He grew more sour. More quiet. More broody.

Until one day, it broke.

You were paired up in Potions (again—thanks Snape), and you were squabbling about ingredient order.

“Maybe if you actually followed instructions, Malfoy, we wouldn’t keep exploding cauldrons.”

“Maybe if you weren’t so infuriatingly perfect all the bloody time, I wouldn’t be distracted!”

You blinked. “What?”

He froze.

Oh.

His mouth opened. Then closed. Then opened again.

“Forget I said that,” he mumbled, turning back to the cauldron with flushed cheeks.

You smirked. “Distracted by what, exactly?”

He didn’t answer. He just shoved a pinch of lacewing flies into the brew a little too aggressively.

Later that night, you found him in the Astronomy Tower, leaning on the railing, staring at the sky.

“You can’t just say things like that in the middle of Potions class,” you said.

He didn’t turn around. “It was an accident.”

“But it wasn’t a lie.”

Silence.

You walked to stand beside him. The stars were faint tonight, but the moon was bold and bright, casting light over his pale hair.

“I don’t know how to do this,” he muttered, voice low. “With you. I’m not good at... emotions. Or feelings. Or whatever this bloody thing is.”

You leaned on the railing next to him, shoulder brushing his. “Me neither.”

He glanced at you. You were close. Too close. You didn’t move.

He sighed. “You’re brilliant. And annoying. And smarter than me. And Merlin, do you ever stop being perfect?”

You laughed. “No. It’s a curse.”

That made him smile. Really smile.

“I like you,” you said. Simple. Honest.

He looked at you like he didn’t deserve it. “Even though I’ve been a git for years?”

“Especially because of that,” you teased. “It’s part of your charm.”

He turned toward you fully, and before you could think too much, his hand found yours. Just a brush of fingers. Nothing more.

But it was enough.

“I still want to beat you in every class,” he said.

You grinned. “Good. I’d be disappointed if you didn’t.”

And then, finally, finally, he leaned in and kissed you—soft and tentative, like he wasn’t sure you’d let him.

You did.

[op1umeyes]

Can you?

͙͘͡★ Hiiiii my friends!!! So, i actually wrote this in 2022! I just… never published it. Partly because I feel like my smut scenes arent good and partly because I didn’t like it. But because I’m cleaning my drafts and I typed all this out on my phone, I figured I’d post it! Be careful because this is ALL smut and not very high quality… XOXOXOX I LOVE YOU ALL!!!

͙͘͡★ female reader, slutty activities tbh, remus is not a shy little wolf man in this, group fuck or groupie or orgy idfk, oral sex (m & f recieving), cringey writing (i dont know how to write sex scenes without it sounding cringey lmao),

͙͘͡★ track one, track two, track three

Remus never wondered why James and Sirius had always looked a little too long at Remus’s girlfriend, assuming maybe they were still warming up to her. That would be odd, though, considering how fast the whole group warmed up to people.

Maybe- Remus thought- maybe they were in disbelief that Remus had actually pulled the girl he had been pining over since first year, maybe they were upset at Remus and y/n for spending so much time together… Or maybe they were jealous.

James and Sirius could get almost anyone they wanted. In fact, Remus could only name about fifteen students total who didn’t fancy James or Sirius (most of which are Slytherins).

But now, with Sirius on his belly on the bed with his face buried deep between y/n’s thighs, Remus recognizes it all; the feelings, the glances, the whispering, and the lusting. James Fleamont Potter- the boy who could land anyone in his bed- was groping remus lupin’s beautiful girlfriend’s tits as he fucked her willing throat.

Remus watched with dark eyes, legs spread, as he watched his best friends go down on his girlfriend. Seeing her thighs twitch and her throat bulge was a new experience, one that would probably happen a lot more in the future.

“Fuckin’ christ, y/n,” James spat, twisting and pinching y/n’s nipples. “You really love being fucked like a good little girl, don’t you? Havin’ Moony watch us have our own fun turns you on, doesn’t it? Hm?”

y/n moaned. Yes. To all questions.

Sirius had to hold y/n’s thighs open or else she’s crush his skull. Remus hadn’t thought Siri would like eating women out as much as he clearly did, but it was fucking hot. He enjoyed it greatly, taking his time swirling his tongue around y/n’s puffy clit before darting into her gushing cunt to tongue-fuck her.

“Y’gonna let me cum in that throat or do you want it all over these gorgeous tits?” James asked.

y/n swirled her tongue around James’s dick in response and hallowed her cheeks.

Remus watched y/n’s body squirm on the bed, watching James move his hips even faster and Sirius unconsciously grind down hard on the bed.

“Put a little pressure on her lower belly before she cums,” Remus’s gravely voice advised. He swallowed and palmed his dick through his boxers.

Sirius’s warm hand moved up to press down a little bit on the soft skin just under y/n’s belly button. He immediately groaned at she way y/n’s legs went slack.

James’s thrusts turned sloppier, jaw clenching as his orgasm approached. “Suckin’ the life outta me, merlin,” he murmured.

Sirius, previously letting out small moans and groans, was practically singing into y/n’s pussy; lapping desperately at y/n’s clit and slipping two fingers in her at random, making her head spin and back arch.

Finally, just as James’s hips stuttered, the white-hot coil deep in y/n’s core snapped, gushing into Sirius’s mouth. James groaned deeply as his seed poured into y/n’s throat, filling up her belly with her boyfriend’s best friend’s seed.

Remus’s own cock- still in his boxers- throbbed under his hand, watching his best friends and girlfriend reach their high.

When James pulled out of your mouth, he leaned down to give your flushed lips a kiss. “Thank you, dove,” he murmured, stroking baby hairs from your face before dipping down to kiss you again. Remus’s gaze flickered to Sirius- who, was holding down your squirming body to lap up the rest of your cum.

“Can you handle Moony, love?” Sirius asked from between your thighs. You finally- finally- looked up at Remus with those dark eyes of yours and Remus almost came right then.

Remus tilted his head, hand resting over his throbbing boner. “Can you?”

You smiled coyly. “Come over here and find out, pretty boy,” you rasped.

[ggukalaxy]

just finished my rewatch of all five seasons of bbc's merlin, and my sister and i decided it would be fun to keep count of how many times merlin saved arthur's life throughout the show, so here is an accumulated list:

(disclaimer: it is absolutey possible that we weren't always watching attentively and that we might have missed a case or two, but i like to believe that it is kinda accurate)

times arthur would have died if merlin hadn't saved him

• 1x01: dagger thrown at arthur ⟶ merlin slowed down time to pull arthur out of the way

• 1x02: snakes supposed to poison arthur ⟶ merlin exposes the snakes and arthur kills them

• 1x04: poisoned cup ⟶ merlin drinks from it instead

• 1x05: a griffin attacks them ⟶ lancelot fights it, and merlin enchants his sword/spear so that it’ll work

• 1x07: arthur is to be sacrificed to the sidhe ⟶ merlin saves him

• 1x10: ealdor gets attacked, including arthur, and they’re doomed ⟶ merlin creates a huge wind gust to save everyone

• 1x13: questing beast attacks arthur ⟶ merlin kills it

• 1x13: questing beast bites arthur, the poison is fatal ⟶ merlin gets water from the cup of life to save him

• 2x01: arthur gets attacked by a huge boar (?) ⟶ merlin uses magic on a crossbow to save him 

• 2x01: camelot gets attack by living stone statues ⟶ merlin destroys them

• 2x02: assassin tries to kill arthur during a tournament on horses ⟶ merlin uses magic to make the assassin fall off his horse

• 2x12: dead stone statue thingies attack arthur and his knights ⟶ merlin uses magic to make the ceiling cave in and pulls arthur to his side, separating them from the statue thingies

• 2x13: arthur's wounds are getting worse ⟶ merlin finds balinor in time and has him help him (HONORARY MENTION)

• 3x04: arthur gets attacked (again) ⟶ merlin uses magic to save him (again)

• 3x07: morgause tries to kill arthur with a fire beam ⟶ merlin uses magic to make the fire beam explode before it reaches arthur

• 3x08: arthur gets attacked by wyverns ⟶ merlin uses his dragonlordness to stop them

• 3x08: arthur wears the eye of the phoenix bracelet (sucking life-force out of someone) ⟶ merlin takes it off him

• 3x12: arthur gets shot by a poisoned arrow ⟶ merlin uses magic to help him, then brings him to gaius

• 3x13: an army of immortal deads attacks camelot ⟶ merlin empties the cup of life of their blood to “kill” them all

• 4x01: dorochas attack arthur ⟶ merlin pushes arthur out of the way to get attacked instead

• 4x04: their food gets poisoned ⟶ merlin uses magic to save them

• 4x05: arthur fights in a duel and is about to be striked down ⟶ merlin makes the opponent’s sword fall out of his hands with magic

• 5x01: arthur and their men get attacked by morgana’s men ⟶ merlin saves arthur and gets them away from the battle

• 5x04: arthur almost got beheaded by odin ⟶ merlin created an earthquake with magic to stop that

• 5x06: dark tower traps ⟶ merlin parries an arrow with magic

• 5x07: arthur gets poisoned ⟶ merlin saves him with magic

• 5x08: someone wants to shoot an arrow at arthur ⟶ merlin attacks the shooter and saves arthur

• 5x11: kara tried to stab arthur ⟶ merlin uses magic to save him

and the one time he fails: 5x13, mordred stabs arthur with a sword forged on a dragon’s breath — merlin doesn’t get him to avalon in time

which brings us to a total of 27.5 times that merlin has saved arthur's life throughout the show

we also kept track of all the times arthur saved merlin's life, so here is that list:

• 1x03: merlin tells uther he is a sorcerer to save gwen (which would’ve gotten him a death sentence) ⟶ arthur convinces his father that merlin is lying out of love for gwen

• 1x04: merlin drank from a poisoned cup ⟶ arthur gets the antidote for him

• 1x11: arthur drinks poison so that merlin won’t have to ⟶ it was actually a sleeping draft though (HONORARY MENTION)

• 1x13: questing beast attacks ⟶ arthur pulled merlin out of the way

• 2x12: dead stone statue thingy attacks merlin ⟶ arthur strikes it down

• 4x01: a dorocha flies towards merlin ⟶ arthur pushes him out of the way

• 4x08: the lamia was about to kill merlin ⟶ arthur comes in at just the right time

which brings us to a total of 6.5 times that arthur saved merlin's life

it's kind of crazy to me to compare it like this, because on the one hand 27 near-death experiences across 65 episodes doesn't really sound like a lot. but at the same time i can't believe that arthur would have died 27 times if it hadn't been for merlin. and to think that arthur only saved merlin's life 6 times though?? oof

on my next rewatch, my sister and i want to make a list of all the moments that contributed to arthur's death (a so-called "doom list" with moments like merlin poisoning morgana in 2x13 etc), but that one is definitely going to be more subjective, since it'll be based on things that we think could've prevented arthur's death if they had gone any different

very excited to debate all the things that could go on that one!

[thefiery-phoenix]

BOUND FOREVER(YANDERE TOM RIDDLE X READER)

It was your first year at Hogwarts and you were quite excited to learn everything there was about magic and make friends. You were on the Hogwarts Express and you tried to find an empty compartment when you finally stumbled upon a compartment with a guy who looked a few years older than you and had raven black curls on his pale skin as he lazily flipped through the pages of one of his books in his hands. You opened the door and you entered the compartment as you asked him whether you could sit inside with him. His eyes met yours and his gaze surveyed your features with a calculating sharp look. He had a look of slight annoyance in his eyes but beckoned for you to sit without saying a word. You smiled and thanked him and sat opposite towards him and when you pulled your 'A History of Hogwarts' book out, his lips curved into a cheshire like grin. "I'm guessing you're a first year?" he asked you. "Well yes, I'm reading more about Hogwarts so I can learn more about it and it's actually quite fun'' you said with a smile. For a while only the sound of the train on the tracks was heard along with the chatter of the other students from the other compartments and there was a peaceful silence between the two of you 

"I didn't get your name'' you said and looked at the guy in front of you. "Tom Marvolo Riddle, 3rd year'' he replied with a smirk as you shook his hand and introduced yourself. He liked how soft your hand felt in his, you looked so...innocent and docile and so gullible with that silly yet slightly endearing grin etched across your face. He couldn't wait to have more of you. The two of you were talking with each other when the compartment door slid open as a few Ravenclaw students entered and they stared at you. "You're new eh? Well if you ever need anything lemme know, I'll be more than willing to be your...guide'' said one of them as he licked his lips and his eyes travelled down your body hungrily which you were unaware of. It didn't go unnoticed by Tom though as he had a fake smile plastered across his face and asked him to step out of the compartment for a few moments with him. As the both of them stepped out, he immediately grabbed him by the tie and glared at him. "If I ever see your filthy gaze on Y/N again, by Merlin I will torture you till you fall at my feet and BEG me for death as I gouge your bloody eyes out...now get lost'' he snarled as the guy in front of him whimpered in fright. "Bloody pathetic...I'll kill you in your sleep at some point'' said Tom and smirked at the guy while the guy hobbled away in fright. Tom wasn't going to let anyone take you from him, you were his little prey, a little lamb meant to be devoured by him 

He returned back to the compartment and you kept talking to him while he listened and absorbed every word you said. The train finally reached the station as you and the other First Year students headed into the Great Hall ready to be sorted. You spotted Tom sitting with the rest of his other friends at the Slytherin table and you could feel his eyes on you. You were nervous and started fidgeting with the hem of your robes, anxiously waiting for your name to be called to be sorted as Tom took pleasure in watching you squirm from afar. He thought you looked rather amusing and slightly endearing, his desire to make you squirm for him even more grew as he kept watching you. Your name was finally called upon and you sat down on the stool as the hat was placed on your head and after a few moments of deliberation from the hat, you got sorted into the Hufflepuff house as you smiled and joined your house. Tom's fists clenched as his knuckles  as he watched you join those insignificant pests when you were supposed to get sorted into Slytherin so you could be by his side 

'No matter...they're still mine' thought Tom to himself as he watched you laugh and giggle with the other people around you. He felt himself growing irritated at himself, he was angry at himself for allowing his mind to be plagued with thoughts of you, he hated the way you laughed with other people, he felt his anger and rage boiling inside him. After the dinner was over, you met with Tom and when you told him that even though the two of you were in different houses, you still wanted to be friends with him as his lips curved into a smirk. How naive and adorable you were, while the others shivered in their shoes since he instilled fear into them, there was you who actually wanted to be close to him. You failed to realize he was a wolf in sheep's clothing with a mask, hiding his unnatural feelings of obsession for you with his dark twisted desires 

He was calculating when he started isolating you from the others. He threatened, blackmailed and tortured people whoever dared to come too close to you. Every time you'd meet him in the Room of Requirement wondering why people didn't want to be close to you and how you'd start sniffing pathetically, he'd coo at you in a patronizing condescending manner secretly glad that you're leaning on him and relying on him for support. He loved the way your tears fell down your cheeks, those beautiful lashes of yours tinged with your tears as your eyes are bleary and puffy, it gave him sadistic pleasure to see you cry. The other day someone invited you to a day out with them at Hogsmeade and you told Tom about it as his eyes narrowed at you and curtly told you he had a problem he had to take care of. He tracked down the git who tried to take you from him and immediately used the Avada Kedavra on him as a beam of green light erupted from his wand. He stared down at the lifeless body in front of him with contempt as he put his wand back into his robes and went back to join you 

By the time you realized Tom was the one behind all those deaths and all those people getting hurt, it was too late. He'd spun a web of lies, trapping you like a helpless little butterfly in his web of deceit and manipulation. You tried to tell professor Dumbledore about his behavior after the Transfiguration class. "Professor...Professor, please, I need to have a word with you'' you pleaded as you tried to catch up with him while you walked on the steps. Someone ended up tipping Tom off that you were about to talk to professor Dumbledore as he rushed to find you. "Y/N!" yelled Tom as he strode over to you, his every step filling you with dread. "I apologize for my sudden intrusion professor, Y/N here had a question about today's lesson...I assure you I shall clear Y/N's questions'' said Tom with his usual charming smile that could fool anyone but not you since you've finally seen him for who he actually was 

Professor Dumbledore bade you both goodnight and left as you wanted to cry out for him to look back and save you from the clutches of his toxic manipulative grasp but all you could do was just keep your mouth shut when Tom sent a withering glowering glare towards you. He dragged you by your wrist into a nearby classroom and pinned you against the wall. "LET ME GO! WHAT ARE YOU-" you screamed as his hand covered your mouth, muffling your cries and screams for help as tears pricked your eyes. "There are consequences when you go behind my back...you are MINE, you're MY property and I have no qualms of getting more blood on my hands to make you stay with me...I love you after all'' he whispered as he had his signature wolf like grin on his face. You tried to squirm in his grasp and he chuckled as he felt your hands weakly pushing against him, how cute, you really thought you could fight back against him. "Be a good little pet for me and stop your whining unless you don't want your family and friends to see the light of day again...'' he whispered as he leaned close to you and enjoyed the way you kept whimpering and sobbing in his arms. His thumb gently caressed your cheek as his dark obsession for you was fueled even more when he saw how soft and pliant and vulnerable you were before him. A few seconds later you started losing consciousness and he held you by the waist. You were now his, bound forever to him and he'd ensure no one would ever be able to save you from him...

[adalitas-coffeebreak-corner]

The twin swap pt. 3

Sirius Black x fem!Potter!reader

Warnings: Finally some smooching, but that's about it.

A/n: It's been really fun getting to write down and share this idea<3 I might do some follow up parts if people are interested, but for the time being, I hope you'll enjoy the finale.

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”Y/n, please wait!”

No, no no this can’t be real

“Love, stop I need to talk to you”

The nickname sends a shiver down your spine, momentarily stopping you, before adrenaline kickstarts your feet again, carrying you through the corridors of Hogwarts, turning right, then two left turns and up the stairs you go, only to stop once you realize you’ve made it to the top of the astronomy tower.

Great escape plan, Potter.

As you suspect it doesn’t take Sirius long before he has caught up with you, panting slightly with his hands planted on his hips, probably looking sassier than he means to, then again, you did just storm out of potions class after he hinted at his feelings towards you, so you guess it’s only fair. It is troubling you, the idea of being vulnerable in front of Sirius, and you don’t quite know why.

You suspect it is the timing of it all, six years spent having feelings that couldn’t be easily placed for James’ best friend, and now it feels so sudden. You wonder why the universe has decided to throw you into a whirl wind, but nothing really comes to mind as he stands a few feet away from you.

“Would you care to elaborate on why I’ve just had to chase you all the way up here love?” Sirius puts on a bit of a show to seem more out of breath than he probably is, knowing just how athletic he is from watching him at Quidditch games. You unknowingly take a few steps back, mind now mostly occupied with flashes of Sirius in Quidditch gear, looking absolutely heavenly-

“I was just, erh, I needed some fresh air”

“Darling, we’re in a castle, almost anywhere has fresh air” he complains as he plops down near the railing, pulling out a cigarette and lighting it in one swift movement.

After a beat of silence, observing how his long black hair is reacting to the breeze, flowing ever so gracefully, you sigh. Your legs feel heavy as they carry you towards the boy, sitting down next to him. Sirius doesn’t turn towards you as you think he will, instead he keeps his gaze pointed towards the bright winter sky. In a way you appreciate it, because it’s going to make the next part of the conversation much easier.

“I think I got scared, that’s why I ran-“ your breath catches in your throat, Sirius’ face contorts into one of confusion, then warms into concern. He looks to you, discarding his cigarette, allowing you the pause to continue. You chuckle somberly, shielding your face for a second before continuing what you know is going to be the point of no return.

“No, I know I’m scared, because it’s only been a couple of hours since I realized why I can’t concentrate when you’re near me, why I can’t seem to breathe when you lay your head on my shoulder in class, and now!” You exclaim, throwing your hands in the air, as if to prove your frustration.

“You’re my brothers best mate, I always thought that this could never ever happen, and now that I know there’s actually a slight Godrick forsaken chance, that you might love me, as much as I love-“ Your sentences never reaches its end before Sirius takes your face in his hands, and crashes his lips into yours. Dopamine is instant, overtaking your senses, forcing your tense shoulders to drop, your fingers searching to tangle in his hair, which is easy considering it’s almost long enough to reach his broad shoulders. The warmth of his body is addicting, as well as the smell of his aftershave this close to you, it’s a lethal combination. His lips are softer than you’ve imagined, merlin how have you gone this long without kissing Sirius?

A couple of minutes pass by, the two of you completely lost in each other’s arms, before you pull back. Sirius whines as his head follows your movement almost reconnecting your lips, but you stop him with a gentle hand on his chest. There are still questions unanswered in your mind, mainly why the hell Sirius is choosing right now to kiss you.

Not that you’re complaining at all.

“I don’t really understand what’s happening” the last bit of frustration has disappeared, your gestures way more coated by a newfound lightheartedness, searching his face for an answer. The boy’s brows furrow, his lips still agape. “What’s confusing you love?” He asks sincerely dragging his bottom lip between his teeth.

You might just have to bite it for him..

There’s hesitation to your movements, your hands now buried within your sleeves. You sigh before answering “Is this some sort of prank?”

Now, you’ve known Sirius for some years at point, but never have you seen him look this defeated, his face immediately falling at your accusation, which breaks your heart.

“Why on earth would you think this is a prank y/n? I’m pouring my heart out here”

“I mean, kissing me isn’t exactly pouring your heart out Siri..” it comes out as a mere whisper. The look shared is intense, none of you breaking eye contact.

“I knew it was you” He matches your whispering tone, which intensifies the feeling of ice cold water running down your neck. Between the realization that he knows about the Polyjuice incident and knowing how much it means to you, that he can tell you apart from James like that, you feel ambivalent, equally mortified and loved.

“You mean..” The question doesn’t have to come out, you both know. “I knew from the moment I saw you, well, you in James’ body” He grimaces, then continues “well, to be honest your brother is quite a catch I’ll admit, not quite my type though, he’s too.. well-functioning” You gasp loudly, lightly smacking Sirius’ arm, and just like that the tension is mostly broken, the two of you laughing, as the daylight shines down.

“Are you insinuating I’m not well-functioning, Black?” you giggle, your walls breaking down beneath his smiling gaze. He doesn’t hesitate a second to answer back with a wink, “Absolutely, you’re precisely my type”

“ohh Godrick” you groan covering your entirety as well as you can. “What gave me away?” Sirius gently pulls your arms from around yourself, lifting your chin to make you look into his eyes again. “Honestly… Your eyes. The way you looked at me, I don’t know. It’s just so specifically you”

This time it’s you leaning in to him, kissing his lips much softer this time. It doesn’t take many seconds unfortunately for you to break the kiss again as another realization hits you.

Sirius groans again at the loss of your lips, but right now you couldn’t care too much.

“You knew it was me, and you played along? Why torture me like that?” you moan, but Sirius just barks out a laugh. “Darling, I only knew for sure when you locked yourself in the bathroom and almost confessed your feelings for me, but seeing Remus and Peter that confused and partly horrified was bloody brilliant!”

You had to agree, seeing past your own embarrassment, their reactions were priceless, and something about Sirius turning the tables on you like that you find quite attractive, but to be honest he might be the only person who would be able to see through it, which fills you with adoration. He really could tell you and your brother apart. The sentiment that carries for you is vast, having felt second to James most of your life.

“Did the others find out?”

“Remus had it figured out by morning, but I’m not sure Wormy is in the loop yet” He grins.

“I figured” You smile back at him.

“Soo, how do we break the news to James?” You question, dreading having that conversation with your brother.

“I have a sneaking feeling that Prongs is going to be out of commission for a bit, before you ran off Lily kissed him on the cheek, poor bloke nearly fainted”

“Yeah, he tends to do that”

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[missconchshell]

oh, I hope you enjoy it on the watch! it's always fun to see how the fandom experience compares to the actual reality! sometimes it makes me enjoy the thing more knowing what's going to happen, other times I end up preferring the version I made up in my head

do y'all ever end up entering a fandom entirely through fanfic osmosis? like, you stumble across a fic in a new fandom, say, "ooh, this sounds neat," and then three days later you are knee-deep in the trenches with thirty different ao3 tabs open at once? and end up finding yourself being like, "that's so out of character! X wouldn't do that!" despite never having actually seen the original material?