#of course it’s a fucking gryffindor

[fulminare-within-her-soul]

You notice a Gryffindor stealing glances at you during class while sighing romantically. Sometimes you swear you can hear him mumble, "So pretty."

You are being watched.

With an owlish blink, Euphemia’s head rose from her notes. Usually the dragon pressing that unto her mind meant there was immediate danger and she needed to locate the threat before suffering an ambush, curse, enchanted projectile or- Merlin forbid- a physical altercation.

But this was on Hogwarts grounds, Professor Binn’s classroom no less. Arguably the safest place in the entire school because quite literally…nothing, ever happened in here besides the long-dead philosopher droning on. She glared indirectly at her poised quill.

Eleazar, don’t do that. I’m trying to focus, we’re not roughing it.

The dragon’s consciousness flickered with amusement.

Oooh, I know what this is. This is that silly little human courtship dance where the goal is to act as though you are trying to remain inconspicuous, but flaunt unabashedly whenever met with the target of your desire.

I…I beg your- what?

They are flaunting, you ambivalent ninny. Rabbit palpitations, four o’ clock.

Slowly, Euphemia twisted around in her chair to look where he had directed, blatantly ignoring the insult. She clung to the educated assumption that everyone except for this mysterious admirer and Amit Thakkar were most likely out cold.

Such theatrics.

Shut up.

[slytherinslut0]

SLYTHERINSLUT0’S RIDDLEMAS

dec 23rd. tom riddle — wet dreams, house rivals.

RIDDLEMAS MASTERLIST. I 2024

summary: tom’s been infiltrating your dreams, and you decide it’s time to call him out on it.

warnings: 18+, SMUT MDNIIII, coercion!!!!, dark!tom, mind manipulation, religious undertones, gryffindor!reader, enemies if you squint, fingering, squirting, begging, dream sex, tom riddle is his own warning, so much praise, dirty talk, verbal sparring.

You've never been a heavy sleeper. Even as a child, the smallest sound—a creak in the floorboards, a shift in the walls—would jolt you awake. For years, you chalked it up to some ingrained survival instinct, some form of trauma response to whatever part of your childhood still haunts you. You got used to it.

But lately, it isn't sound that’s been waking you. It isn't movement or foundation shifts, either. It's the dreams.

Dreams—strange, lucid, intense dreams of him. Always him. Dreams that make you feel like you're drowning, like you're flying, like you've found a new level of intoxication that you'd never imagined possible—and each time the dreams wake you up, the sheets (and whatever bottoms you may have been wearing) are always soaked, and your thighs are always shaking.

It's maddening.

They feel too real to be anything but a violation, his presence bleeding into your subconscious regardless of how much you try to fight it. You know it means something is wrong. You'd tried to rationalize yourself into going back to sleep, telling yourself it's just hormones or some form of stress, but you're too smart to believe your own excuses.

You know it's more than that.

He's haunting you in your sleep—in the most unexpected way. The dreams are always lucid enough that you can feel it—you can feel him—his mouth on yours, his hands on your hips, his dick bullying your fucking cervix and his magic on your clit—leaving behind nothing but hunger. Hunger that's so intense it makes you want him in a way it almost scares you.

You tell yourself you hate him, you've always hated him—but denial only lasts for so many days, as you realize you can't look at him or talk to him without the dreams forcing their way to the forefront of your mind, making you remember the feelings and the sensations and how much, despite hating him, you want them to be real.

You wanted to believe it would pass. That this was nothing but a phase, a trick of your overactive mind. But deep down, you knew the truth. Tom Riddle has wormed his way into your head, into your dreams—out of spite—and he's not letting go.

So after a hell of a week of this—with damn near zero hours of sleep—you decide to seek him out. To put an end to this madness. Once and for all.

It takes every ounce of courage and Gryffindor-like reckless bravery you can scrape together just to go through with it, but somehow you do. Somehow, you make it across the castle, make it to his door. You're in your pyjamas, for Merlin's sake. It's 1 a.m., and the slick still coating your thighs from what had to have been your tenth lucid orgasm in a matter of a week is a humiliating reminder of why you're even here at all.

And when the door opens, you have the strange feeling that he's been expecting you, even as he makes a great show of acting surprised to see you, looking you up and down with a lazy, smug glance that makes your pulse quicken so viscerally you lose the last shred of sanity you were pathetically clinging to—

"What the fuck—" you prowl forward without hesitation, forcing him a step back into the room. "—are you doing to me?"

Even if you're not imagining some form of surprise in that smug little smirk, he does his best not to let it show.

"Me?" He says, all pretend innocence, flicking his hand out to shut the door behind you with some spell you don't care to name. "You'll have to be more specific."

You glare at him, refusing to acknowledge how unfairly attractive he looks in just sweatpants and an oversized shirt—because of course, even casual looks like this are a weapon in his arsenal.

"Cut the bullshit, Riddle," you snap, and you're not sure if it's your lack of sleep or some form of desperation-fuelled bravery, but you're suddenly invading his personal space, poking an accusing finger into his shoulder. "You're fucking haunting me—"

He blinks. "I’m haunting you. And how am I doing that?”

There's a part of you that knows it's a trap—that this is probably exactly what the smug bastard in front of you has been wanting, but your brain is so deprived of sleep and your body is so starved of respite that you decide 'fuck it'—you want answers, and you're going to get them.

"You're in my dreams," you say, bluntly, forcing an exhale alongside it. "You've been in them every night for a week straight. I haven't slept a bloody minute."

That's when it happens—the tiniest flash of amusement in his eyes, so brief you might've missed it if you weren't ready to tear his fucking throat out.

"You're accusing me of giving you dreams?" He asks, in a tone that makes you want to grab him by the front of his shirt and make him cut the bullshit, and you can't tell how much of your own expression is irritation and how much is lust. "You think I've somehow managed to invade your mind?"

"Don't be condescending," you spit, trying to focus on the spot between his eyebrows that makes the heat in your core roar the least, "and don't act like you're incapable. As much as I can't bloody stand you, we both know damn well your mind magic is strong enough to do this to me—"

"Mind magic," he echoes with an amused snort, "you think I'm doing some kind of mind magic to invade your dreams, is that it?"

He's so damn good at this, you think—infuriatingly good. The way he's playing it off like the idea is absurd, completely laughable—

"Fucking precisely.” You can't hide the heat from your voice. You don't care to try. "These aren't just dreams. They're—they're strong. I feel you. Your hands, your tongue, your—"

Dick. You can't even bring yourself to say it.

And the bastard just smirks, like he's reading your mind anyway. Like he knows. That glimmer in his eyes—arrogant, insufferable—only confirms it.

"Hm," he says with something bored, running a hand through his hair. "Your subconscious—"

"It's not a bloody subconscious thing," you cut him off, uninterested in whatever bullshit he was about to feed you. "It's you. You're invading my dreams—I feel you—my body fucking feels you—"

He laughs at that. Like some sick, sadistic freak. He actually laughs—

"Listen to yourself." He says, with a mocking tone that makes you want to shove him. "Are you that desperate to hate me that you're pinning your dreams on me?"

"Hate doesn't even begin to cover it," you spit, stepping closer, your frustration boiling over. He shifts slightly, his back brushing the wall. "You've got a hell of an ego, but even you have to know this isn't something I'd want. I wouldn't put you in my dreams willingly if you paid me to do it—"

He hums, smirk never faltering, if anything it fucking grows at the tirade.

"You've been dreaming of me for a week," he points out, coolly, as if this is the most casual conversation in the world. "And now, here you are—standing in my dorm in the middle of the night, dressed like this." He takes a step toward you, now. "Do you know what that's called, sweetheart?"

Your lungs hitch at the pet name. Your mind is at war with your cunt and it's losing—

"Delirium?" You choke out, noticing another flash of something in his eyes as the gap between you closes. "Insomnia? Sleep deprivation?"

He gives you a mocking arch of the eyebrow.

"No," he says, in a tone that makes you seethe. "It's called obsession."

"Oh. The irony," you can't help but hiss at him, heart pounding because he's in your space and you're in his and this shouldn't be getting to you the way it is. "It's rich, coming from you, that you'd put that on me when—when you've been mindfucking me every goddamn night—"

"Mindfucking you?" He repeats, almost lazily, as his gaze drops, sweeping over you—your pyjamas, the clear lack of bra, the flush creeping up your neck. "Is that what you think I've been doing? You think—"

The way he doesn't even deny it—doesn't argue the accusation—makes your blood boil in a way you can't control.

"It's the only explanation. You've been—you've been—" you cut him off but your sentence falters because his gaze is moving so deliberately, dragging over you like he's cataloging your weaknesses, and the anger curdles into something raw and desperate. "God, Tom, I just need it to stop. I'm so fucking tense and tired. I'm so wound I can't even focus—I'm wet all the time—"

His eyes snap up to meet yours at that, and he gives you a look you can't even begin to interpret. You bite your tongue, realizing the words that left your mouth just a moment too late to pull them back, and you know you've lost the upper hand in this, somehow. You feel the ground slipping from under you and you hate the way your body shivers as he takes another slow, deliberate, step forward.

"Is that what you are?” He wets his lips. "You've come all the way here, in the dead of night, in your pyjamas, half out of your mind with exhaustion because you're wet. Isn't that right?"

You know better than to answer, though you feel yourself walking straight into the trap he's set.

"Piss off," you snap, but the bravado in your voice is paper-thin as he takes another step forward. He's so close now that his scent overwhelms you—leather and spice, something sharp and smoky that makes your head spin. You recognize it, of course you do; it's the same as in your dreams, and the familiarity makes your knees feel unsteady. "You're—"

"Don't act so offended," he leans closer, his voice a low murmur, quiet, almost silky as it wraps around you, and suddenly you barely remember what you were so pissed off about. "You can't even deny it. I made you cum tonight, didn't I? In your dreams."

Your teeth grit. "You know you did—"

He takes one more step and now you're backed right up against his desk—and gods, Tom's tall, so much taller than you—and it feels like he's looming over you, caging you in.

"Mhm." There's a flash of triumph in his eyes as you lose your words. He leans down, breath grazing your ear just as he brings two fingers to your temple, pressing the pads against it. "Let's watch, shall we?"

Watc—oh no.

A cold sense of dread washes over you as you catch on to what he's insinuating, merely a second too late—

"Tom—"

He whispers something, something that pulls you under, and the next thing you know—in a flash of consciousness you didn't even consider possible—you're staring at yourself inside a dream you remember all too well. A dream sequence where you're moaning and trembling beneath him, your head thrown back, eyes rolling in unabashed pleasure as he drives into you, hips snapping with thrust after thrust after thrust—

And it's one thing to have felt it in the safety of your dreams, in the dead of night when you woke slick and desperate, clenching around nothing. But this—this is visceral. You can't look away because it's projecting inside your mind: the flush blooming across your chest, the arch of your back, the way your lips part with every desperate breath. You hear the obscene sounds spilling from your mouth, mingling with his low, guttural grunts—and worst of all, you can feel it.

You can feel every ounce of pleasure he's giving you, as if he's giving it to you now.

"Mm," you hear him hum from infront of you—it's too much—you're lost in the memory, the dream, and it's a strange, voyeuristic, intimate experience to watch yourself and him like that. "You're worse off than I thought."

You’re gripping the wood of his desk so hard your fingertips are numb, heart flying out of the room as his hand slowly slides from your temple down to your jaw, holding you in place—

"Stop it." You manage to hiss at him, trying to force some semblance of control back into yourself—the last thing you need is to start melting against this bastard. "Tom—"

"You feel that?" He murmurs, breath brushing your neck, and you can't even focus on anything but the sensations he's forcing through your memory—seeing him above you, feeling him inside you. "You do, don't you? This is exactly what you've been feeling all week, isn't it?"

You want to snap at him, cuss him out, but oh god—

"Damn you," you hiss, even as his hands slide down to your hips—and it almost feels as if he's touching you twice, as if there are two sets of hands on your body. "Fuck, Tom—"

"Mm, you look good from this angle," he murmurs, and you fucking keen as you watch, in your mind, his hands slide over your stomach, pushing up your shirt and exposing your tits, groping as he fucks you. You keen as you feel it. "You love this, don't you? You want this."

"I—" you gasp, trying to convince him, or yourself, or goddamn anyone. Still fighting some invisible battle between resistance and submission because you hate that he's right. "I—god, what are you doing to me—"

"What am I doing to you?" He whispers, and you're not sure if the question is rhetorical, or if he's giving you permission to ask it. "I'm not doing anything that you aren't letting me do."

Your knees feel like they're about to buckle, and it's taking all your strength just to stay standing because the pleasure playing out in your mind is pouring into your veins and you can't even fathom how it's possible but you can't do anything to fight it—

"Oh, god—" you moan, unbridled, your physical body slumping back onto the desk as you feel the slick between your thighs, growing with every goddamn thrust. "Oh my god—"

He takes the opportunity of you slumped back against the desk and instantly leans down, bringing his lips to your ear—

"Not even god could keep your legs underneath you." His hand creeps up your thigh. "You're helpless."

"Helpless," you repeat, with a shaky gasp, and you hate how much the word turns you on. This is the first time you've ever been called helpless, and you're not even sure that you care. He's got you in his clutches, he's winning, and it's so infuriating and so goddamn perfect. “Tom—please, please touch me. I need to—fuck—"

You feel his lips brush the skin of your neck in a way that has you trembling with want, but—fucking hell, that's not what you need—you need his hands on you, you need him to just—

"What do you need?" He cooes, and there's a sly tone to his voice that makes you want to throw yourself at him all over again. "You need to cum?"

You moan, low and needy, writhing against the desk because this fucker—he knows exactly what he's doing. He’s got the upper hand here and you want it back. You want—

"Yes," you manage to gasp out. "I need you to—I fucking need you—inside me—"

As soon as that leaves your mouth, the dream fades from your vision and he's urging you to lay back. There's a soft thud as he places a hand on the desk next to your head, and he leans down, bringing his lips back to your ear, and you can't remember a time when you've ever wanted anyone else this bad.

"I'm touched," he murmurs, fingers slipping to the waist band of your pyjama pants, "that you want me that bad."

"I hate you," you manage to gasp out, but that's a lie, and you think he knows it. His fingers on your skin as he pulls your pants down make you ache for him, and you're struggling to not make another sound that will give him ammunition. "Why do you have to—"

"Why do I have to what?" He asks, and you know he's just trying to get a reaction out of you. "Tease you? Make you helpless?"

Your pants get hardly half way down your thighs before he decides it's enough and slides a finger through your soaked slit, and you can't hold back the moan that tears itself from your throat.

"Fuck, you're soaked.” He hisses through his teeth. “You've been sitting in your dorm for days, hm? Dreaming of me touching you, wishing you could touch yourself without thinking of me—do you want to cum, sweetheart?"

"Yes," you gasp out, and you're not above begging at this point. "Yes, god, please—I want to fucking cum—"

"There we go," he cooes, and he's enjoying this more than you'd like to acknowledge. "You know how long I've been waiting to hear you say that?"

"I'd say at least a week," you throw back, in a vain attempt to keep a shred of your dignity, but that's hard when he's circling his fingers around your clit and your body is jerking against the desk beneath you. God you really are helpless. "Because that's how long you've been plaguing my head, giving me wet dreams like some goddamn incubus—"

He chuckles at that, and you hate him a little less when he slips two fingers inside you, "You think I'm a demon?"

"You certainly act like one," you choke out, because he's crooking his fingers and your mind is going fuzzy and he's not going to let you get the upper hand back, even for a second. "Fuck—oh, yes, yes, yes."

"You've got me all wrong," he says, with a smile that would be boyish if it wasn't so sinister. "Demons come to punish you. I'm here helping you get that relief you've been needing so badly."

"Just want t-to help me," you moan as his long fingers work you open, thumb brushing your clit, "out of the kindness of your heart—"

"Out of the kindness of my heart,” he repeats, with a mocking tone, and it's the way he murmurs those words that's making your thighs clench around him until he grabs the fabric of your pjs bunched around them and pushes your legs up to your chest, working his fingers impossibly deeper. "Out of the goodness of my soul—it's what I do, darling, I'm known for my benevolence—"

"You're a good man," you know he can tell you're being sarcastic, but his fingers are filling you so fucking full you're nowhere near ready to start a fight again when you're this close to losing your goddamn mind on his desk. "You're such a good man, Tom—“

"Mhm," his breath tickles your ear. "What else am I?"

"So good with your fingers," you're moaning, and he's going to get a bigger ego than he already has. You're too far gone to care. "God, you're so good, I'm going to—"

"Yes, you are," he answers, and it takes you a second to realize that he's not correcting your words anymore. He's simply telling you that you are, in fact, about to fall apart for him. "Give it to me. You've earned it."

You almost want to snap back at him, you almost try to, but you're so far gone the words don't form on your tongue and you're not sure you'd be able to fight the fire pooling in your stomach.

"Oh, fuck—“

He doesn't even let you finish that, he just dips his hips down, bringing his hand that's not buried in your slick up to cover your mouth, muffling those strangled screams before they spill out and echo down the hall—

"That's it," he murmurs, his voice a low hum against your skin. "Be a good girl. Let it all out for me."

And it's that; that stupid combination of cooing warmth and the phrase 'be a good girl' that sends you over the edge, and you're muffling your gasps and moans and screams against his palm because gods, what would happen if someone heard you? What would happen if people realized what Tom Riddle was doing to you—your house rival, your sworn enemy—

"There we go," you're falling apart and he's watching you as if he owns you, as if this is where you belong—writhing beneath him, release squirting out around his fingers. "Ride it out for me. Such a good girl, you needed this so bad, I can tell you were aching for this."

You're struggling to say anything back, the only thing that comes out is a strangled moan of his name, and you've always known how bad he was, heard from other girls how good he could be with his hands, but this—you've never had this, never been this before.

"Such a fucking mess," he's murmuring, his voice low and rough and so goddamn beautiful. “How'd that feel? Hm?"

"So—so good," it feels like the words are being forced out of your throat, and you're struggling to think with enough clarity to form anything that's not an embarrassing moan of how much you needed this. "Needed it, need more, I—"

"More?" He murmurs as he slips his fingers free, and he's bringing his other hand up to your jaw, forcing you to look at him as he brings his soaked fingers to your lips. "Greedy girl."

You're not thinking about the implication of him calling you that, you're not thinking about how you should fight back, you're not thinking about how much you hate him—you’re just thinking about the sinful taste of you on his fingers, when they press against your tongue. Without a second of hesitation you suck them clean, tasting yourself, and it's obscene. You're obscene. But you don't care, it just makes that ache in you grow worse—you need more, you need him.

Dear god, what happened to you.

“So good," he murmurs, the praise dripping like honey from his tongue. You hum and he exhales. "I'll find you tomorrow."

"You'll find me tomorrow?" You repeat, as he withdraws his fingers from your mouth, and you're struggling for air, your chest heaving beneath your rumpled shirt. "What are you going to do, come into my room?"

"I'll come into much more than your room," he says, with a laugh that dances with promises of sin. "Now go. Before someone finds you here."

You push yourself up on trembling arms, pulling your pants up your thighs, your heart hammering in your chest because—god, that was incredible, you want more of it, and you can hardly even believe it happened. With a breath, you force yourself to move.

You look back at him as you get to the door. Your legs are shaking and you're not going to hold it against yourself for needing the wall to support you as his eyes rake over you, the corners of those lips curled up his signature smirk, and you want to hit him so goddamn bad—but then he speaks, like he read your mind, and it snaps you out of it—

"No dreams tonight." He says. "Scouts honour."

"You're no boy scout," you throw back, and your voice is a little breathier than you'd like. "And this changes nothing."

He smiles, slow and languid and knowing. "Of course."

You want to roll your eyes at the condescension dripping off his tongue, but you're worried that if you stay here any longer the only words on your tongue will be 'do it again'.

"You just owe me." You say as you crack the door open.

"I owe you," he agrees, and you think that his smile is just a little too genuine—like he would give you anything you wanted, just for another taste of that. “I'm keeping score, darling. Sleep well."

You hate him for calling you that, you hate his stupid smile, you hate the way he knows he's got you.

What he doesn’t know, is that you’re going to make him pay.

"Good night," you mutter, and then you open the door and slip out into the hallway.

[brokenmenswhore]

I hate to do asks but like just imagine this! At hogwarts there is a group that’s kinda like a polyamorous relationship but just for s*x and it’s like slytherin and gryffindor students and they decided they wanted someone from like a year younger so they start to slowly talk to innocent reader to get them comfortable around them before starting to get touchy with her (maybe she is a hufflepuff? That’s my house)

i’m a hufflepuff too 🫶🏻 thanks for feeling comfy enough to send me this ask if you don’t usually like doing that!

a proposition | poly!marauders

#1

pairing: poly!marauders x fem!reader (james, remus, and sirius, featuring alecto, dorcas, evan, lily, and mary)

warnings: none!

a/n: i don’t even realize my sirius favoritism until i proofread a poly story and i’m like damn okay then WHORE

a proposition: masterlist

────── ☾ ──────

Everyone knew about it.

Even though it wasn’t spoken of in the presence of the students not involved, everyone knew about it.

It wasn’t exactly a polyamorous relationship, because a relationship implies more than just physicality, which is what it was. It was purely for sex.

It was started, of course, by Sirius Black. He had a casanova reputation, and after a while, he started looking to the same group of girls when he was in the mood. His best friend, Remus, unknowingly slept with quite a few of the same girls, and a lot of those girls slept with each other.

James didn’t have as much sex as his two best friends, but he quickly became involved. After a while, a group was established.

All of the students involved knew one another well, and were all somewhat close friends that had not romantic desires toward one another, but unashamed lust. It was a sex positive group, and was essentially just a group of students who fucked each other whenever.

Despite the unofficial, non-relationship standing, they all agreed to only have sex with each other. If they wanted to add someone into the group, they all had to agree to it. So, in a way, it was a relationship, but, in a way, it wasn’t. There wasn’t really a label on what it was, but it worked for them.

Everyone in the group was in the same year at Hogwarts, so they all related to each other well.

However, a few of them began to crave something new- someone not so in line with everyone.

Everyone sat in the Gryffindor common room at an hour late enough that most others were asleep. James sat on the floor, his back resting between Dorcas’s legs as she played with his hair, tying small braids from the curly strands.

“We wanna bring something up,” James said.

“We’re doing we’s now?” Sirius scolded, taking a drag of his cigarette.

“I just mean, there’s something Dorcas and I talked about, and now I’m talking about it with all of you,” James clarified.

“Fair enough, what’s up?” Mary asked.

“I’m wondering how everyone here would feel about inviting someone new into the group.”

Everyone looked around the room at one another, attempting to gage the energy of everyone else before speaking their own opinions.

“I vote we should bring in someone younger,” Evan added.

“Younger like what? Like wouldn’t that be weird?” Remus asked.

“No, idiot, like a year under us,” Evan retorted.

“Where the fuck are we gonna find someone a year younger than us who would be down to do this?” Mary questioned.

Sirius flicked a spark off of his cigarette, clearing his throat and sitting forward a bit. “I have someone in mind.”

“Has everyone been trying to scope out prospects? Am I the only one who hasn’t thought about inviting in anyone new?” Alecto asked.

There was another shared look, and everyone shrugged. They had all thought about a change.

“Who’d you have in mind, Sirius?” Dorcas brought the attention back to his statement.

“There’s this hufflepuff a year below us, seems super innocent though,” Sirius said, taking a quick hit of smoke, “blushes every time I look at her.”

“Is she hot?” Remus asked.

“No, I’m proposing we all fuck her because she’s not hot,” Sirius snapped, his voice laced with evident sarcasm.

Sirius told them your name, and a few of them already knew who you were.

“She’s super cute!” Dorcas exclaimed, “I’m super down for that. Anyone disagree?”

Everybody was on board with the idea.

────── ☾ ──────

“Go on, then.”

James turned to Sirius and Remus, saying, “why does it have to be me? You go do it.”

“Fine,” Sirius replied, “Remus, go talk to her.”

Remus threw his hands up. “What happened to being set on making James do it?”

Sirius shrugged his shoulders. “She’s not gonna be sitting at that table forever. You nervous or somethin’?”

“No,” Remus quickly replied, “this is just, I don’t know, weird.”

“How’s it weird?”

“Because I’m about to go interrupt the poor girl in order to talk to her with the intention of later asking her to fuck me and all my friends,” Remus explained, “I don’t know, it’s just a weird thing to do.”

“Fuckin’ hell, I can’t stand you two,” Sirius said, flicking a spark off of his cigarette and walking over to you. He sat down across the table from you, watching you intently as you scribbled notes off a textbook.

You didn’t look up because you didn’t even consider that he was sitting near you for a reason.

“Hey.”

You looked up, and Sirius was looking directly at you. The familiar tint of red crept into your cheeks. “Hi.”

He took a drag of his cigarette, kicking his feet up onto the table. “Seen you around quite a bit.”

You couldn’t help but stare at his lips as they wrapped around the cigarette.

“We do go to the same school,” you quipped, smiling to show it was lighthearted.

Sirius smirked, happy you were responding well to him. “I usually don’t get on with anyone that isn’t in my year.”

“Why talk to me then?” you asked.

“Don’t know,” Sirius said, swinging his feet off the table and leaning his torso over the table a bit, “guess somethin’ just caught my eye.”

He knew his flirtations would make you blush, and they did just that. You smiled as you tilted your head back down, pretending to look over your notes in an attempt to calm yourself.

Sirius’s smile only widened watching you squirm under his gaze. “Whatcha studying?”

“Fwoopers,” you responded, “but understanding seems to evade me sometimes.”

“You know who’s super smart? My friend James.”

“Wh-“ before you could even stop him, Sirius signaled over James, who approached you with Remus in tow.

“This is James, James, say hi.”

James sighed. “I’m not a dog, Sirius, unlike some people.”

“Funny,” Sirius retorted, “do you think you could help my new friend with some Care of Magical Creatures work?”

“Oh, I don’t- I’m all good, I-“

“Course,” James lit up, sitting down directly next to you, “lemme see.”

He pulled the textbook toward him, familiarizing himself with what you were reading as Remus took a seat next to Sirius.

You watched a few girls walk past your table, shooting you dirty looks when they noticed that the boys were otherwise occupied with you. Sirius, Remus, and James has grown to be quite popular, and them speaking with a random, younger Hufflepuff was odd. Remus noticed your shift in energy.

“You alright?” he asked.

“Yeah, I just- I’m a year under you, I can’t do your schoolwork for you or anything.”

Sirius furrowed his brows in confusion. “Why would we want you to do our schoolwork?”

“I don’t know, is that not why you’re all talking to me?”

James diverted his attention from your textbook, looking at you in understanding. He felt a pant of guilt for springing everyone on you at once, and a pang of sadness for the fact you didn’t think they would actually want to talk to you just because.

“You forget James is top of his class,” Sirius said, but James didn’t think the mood called for quips. He shot Sirius a look, taking over the conversation.

“We’re sorry if we came off a little strong,” he started, “we all just wanted to say hey. We see you around a lot and think you’re cute, it’s as simple as that.”

“Oh,” you said, suddenly turning weak.

Sirius was smiling and relaxing back into the chair, amused to high hell with how innocent and blushy you were from such a small little compliment. He was so happy he suggested you.

────── ☾ ──────

The following day, Remus and Lily caught you walking down a corridor during your free period.

“Shouldn’t you be in class?” you asked, directing the question toward Remus as they caught up to you.

“Didn’t feel like going,” Remus said, nonchalant.

“You can’t just not go,” you laughed, assuming he wasn’t serious.

“Be careful with this one,” Lily said to you, gesturing to Remus, “he’s a horrible influence. You wouldn’t have caught me dead skipping a lecture last year. He can be very persuasive.”

Something about the way she said it made you swallow hard, suddenly extremely aware of your presence and appearance.

“I’m Lily,” she finally introduced herself, throwing a piece of hair behind her shoulder. She was beautiful, and you became self conscious in her vicinity.

You didn’t respond, just smiled, so she took the opportunity to continue. “My friends and I are all headed to Hogsmeade later. You’re welcome to join if you want!”

“You’d want me to join?” you questioned.

“Don’t be silly, why not? Remus will be there too, and a ton of other really cool people.”

You contemplated your options. You had no reason to believe that Remus and Lily were not genuine in their invitation, and you were excited at the prospect of new friends. “Sure,” you responded.

Lily squealed and gave you a small hug. “I’ll go tell everyone you’re coming!”

“Why would you need-“

“Bye!”

Lily scrambled off down the hallway, leaving you alone with Remus.

“She tends to get excited,” Remus explained, “she’s the friendliest people-person I know. Can get quite annoying, actually.”

You giggled at his statement, and he took the opportunity to brush his hand against yours. You took it as an accident, so you didn’t even react, but then he intertwined his fingers with your own.

You didn’t retract your hand, but instead looked to where yours met his, and then looked at him. He continued looking forward, walking alongside you and not acknowledging what he did. He wanted to see if you would pull away on your own, but you didn’t. It felt comfortable.

You got ready for your trip with your new friends alone, since all of them were in Gryffindor or Slytherin and stuck to their respective common rooms. You caught Lily and Mary outside of their common room, and you walked with them down to Hogsmeade.

Now that you were outside of the castle walls, you noticed a shift in how everyone acted with one another. They were all very touchy, making sexual innuendos at each other and allowing themselves to have fun without restriction.

You followed as they immediately went to Honeydukes. Alecto informed you that Sirius had a serious sweet tooth, and always made everyone go there as the very first stop on their trips. No one complained, though, because they all wanted to anyway.

As you all exited the shop, Dorcas made a show of sucking her lollipop, staring Evan in the eyes as she did so. You felt your cheeks go hot, almost feeling like you saw something you shouldn’t have.

The next stop was the Three Broomsticks, and James saw your confusion as you reached the entrance.

“You okay?” he asked you.

“Yeah, just- didn’t you all just get a whole bunch of sweets?”

James laughed, “and?”

You smiled toward him. “Fair enough.”

“We don’t like to shy away from the pleasure of life, darling,” Dorcas said, imitating a very english accent. Everyone laughed in unison at her impression.

You all crowded around a table, and you remained silent, your hands in your lap for fear of obstructing the space Sirius had to your left and Mary had to your right.

You listened intently as everyone joked and talked about their current courses and professors, when suddenly a question was directed at you.

“So tell me, which professor do you like the least? I just know it’s Professor Bins. I mean, you’re crazy if you don’t say Bins,” Lily said.

“If I had to pick, sure,” you said.

“He’s never done anything to drive you crazy?”

“I mean, there was this one time he assigned so much work over the holiday that someone threw a desk out the window,” you started.

“Wait what? What exactly happened?” Lily asked, enthusiastic that you were finally opening up.

“It was just all textbook readings and analysis, especially about the Ministry and MACUSA and all that, and he said it had to be done by the time we came back from holiday. A few students protested, and he just got more and more angry until someone stood up, picked up a desk, and chucked it out the window. It happened so fast I don’t think anyone had the time to levitate it before it hit the ground.”

Everyone chuckled at the story, and you felt at ease now that you were becoming more and more comfortable with the group.

“And did he…”

“Faint from sheer stress? Oh absolutely,” you added, smiling as you spoke, your posture adjusting to mimic your growing comfort.

You didn’t catch it, but Sirius and Remus exchanged a look, nodding their heads upward at one another as Sirius gently placed his hand on your thigh.

Your body jolted a slight bit as you flinched, startled by the unfamiliar feeling. Sirius immediately pulled his hand away, but you turned to him, and spoke low enough that only he could hear. “It’s okay, you can leave it there.”

Sirius put his hand back, resting it low on your thigh. As time went on, and you continued talking, he began to rub his thumb on your leg. It felt unfamiliar, but soothing and intimate.

Of course you were attracted to the people at the table: they were all insanely attractive and kind to you, but you hadn’t felt this feeling before. Someone was touching you, and so intimately, and it was doing something to you.

Sirius began to slowly creep his hand upward, rubbing your inner thigh under your skirt, only a few inches away from your most sensitive area.

You shuddered and your breathing hitched in your throat, but you didn’t stop him.

You were suddenly snapped back to reality when you noticed everyone watching you. You looked around the table, slightly embarrassed and slightly confused.

“We have a proposition for you,” James said.

[slytherinboysvip]

Imagine best friend Mattheo being absolutely obsessed with his innocent little Hufflepuff bsf but she just can’t tell. Everyone else knows, and it is quite obvious, but she just can’t think someone like him would want someone like her. But when she jokingly says she’s gonna get Cedric to take her virginity he decides it’s time he came clean.

Possibly with some soft smut if you are comfortable with it of course

bsf mattheo riddle x hufflepuff reader

hopefully this matches your request <3 i’ll most likely make a part 2 for this because.. you’ll see ;) 3.5k words

you lived a rather simple uncomplicated life, attending hogwarts as a hufflepuff with no interest in anyone’s drama. though you kept to yourself most times you tried to be nice to all your peers maintaining your classic hufflepuff demeanor, despite this there was one thing that was different about you.

you see, you didn’t see or understand why people don’t like other houses just because of “house rivalry” especially the students who weren’t even participating in any sports or point winning. and with this over your years though you had few friends you had one best friend who at first seemed rather impossible to be friends with.. mattheo riddle.

when you two met you were a fourth year and him a fifth, coincidentally you were going on to a few friends about your annoyance with people automatically assuming the worst of slytherin even though you yourself weren’t in their house or nearly like one. mattheo overheard this heated- adorable voice coming from behind him and he walked towards you carefully.

he sat down in front of you beside your friend as she gawked faces towards you at his presence. “you don’t think we’re too mean, huh?” he questioned small laugh leaving his lips. “i just think that some people are misunderstood and just because some wizards turned out bad doesn’t mean all of them in your house are” you looked at him answering his question with ease

he smirked in amusement and leaned a little closer to you “hm, hufflepuff eh? what year are you puff?” he sat back examining you and you didn’t fail to notice that nickname he slipped in “fourth year but i have an early birthday which is annoying because i could technically be out sooner” you sighed ignoring his staring.

“well, seeing as it’s ravenclaw against gryffindor do you wanna watch the quidditch game with me i know the best view” he stood up and held his hand out for you, you look towards your friends and they’re both nodding their heads for you to go so you did.

from that point on you and mattheo had been best friends, sadly he was in his seventh year and now you in your sixth nothing much had changed in your life. living vicariously through mattheo and his stories about slytherin parties and how you should go to one with him before it’s too late, he’d tell you about his sexual adventures and your jaw would drop everytime.

you yourself also confided in him though with much less interesting things, telling him how you feel unlikeable by guys sometimes because they never try to get or talk to you, or how you feel lonely because you’ve never had a a boyfriend before. hed always help soothe the thoughts away, telling you that it’s only your brain making those things up , “listen y/n, anyone who doesn’t love you is fucking insane”.

𓆙

talking to your friend zarah who’d been there since day one you always told her what you told matt, for the most part. “i just don’t get why nobody is interested in me zar, like am i genuinely that ugly” you plopped onto your bed sighing dramatically. “you’re not ugly and if you think no guys want you you’re blind i know one in particular that really, really wants you” she giggled.

you looked at her with a confused expression “i must be missing something because i have no idea who you’re talking about” you awaited her response and she just rolled her eyes and sighed “girl your practically boyfriend of a best friend you do everything with” she gave you a duh look and you just laughed. you genuinely couldn’t believe she’d even think he’d like you especially with all the girls he’d been with, “you’re hilarious, we both know he doesn’t want me he wants all the girls he tells me about” you started to compose yourself but zarah’s expression didn’t change.

“you literally must be blind y/n do you need glasses? or should i say puff? let’s talk about how that man hasn’t stopped calling you that pet name since you’ve met.. he’s in love” she rolled her eyes raising her hands in the air. “i still don’t think he wants me so there’s no convincing me” you shrugged her off and she groaned getting up and leaving your shared dorm.

𓆙

“puff you gotta come to this party, slytherin won agains gryffindor i just know this is gonna be the party you want to go to pleaseee” mattheo put his hands on your shoulders shaking you “fiinee” you attempted to answer between shakes before he let you go “if i would’ve known it was that easy i would’ve done that years ago” he rolled his eyes.

“anyways it’s tonight at like 8 so i’ll just get you from your dorm at like 7 do you think they’ll let me in? actually what’s the password?” he didn’t give you time to finish any of your sentences before you just gave him the password “butterscotch” you whispered, in response mattheo laughed “fucking butterscotch merlin that’s hilarious” you looked up at him and rolled your eyes walking away.

“i’ll see you at 7 puff” he yelled across the hall and you just gave a thumbs up and continued walking. you honestly were quite nervous seeing as you’ve never necessarily been to a party before, you’ve made small appearances at hufflepuff parties but you’ve heard they don’t even compare to slytherin.

making your way into your dorm you spot zarah and you pull her up from the common room couch “i finally said yes to a party need help now” you quickly mumbled and she quickened her pace “when does it start girl i need the info right this second come on you’re talking too long for me” she rushed and you blurted it all out “8pm he’s getting me at 7 he has the password he will be at the dorm” closing the door behind you two you both stopped to catch your breath

“sooo is it a dateee” she shimmied her arm on you winking “i already told you he doesn’t like me!!” you replied to her relentlessness. “ugh whatever we need to get you ready girl it’s already six” she pushed you onto your shared vanity chair and pulled out all of your makeup and a few things of hers, “creative control?” she asked smirking at you “mm fine but not too much” you agreed “we’ll see” she giggled.

after around 30 minutes she finished your makeup and she showed you the finished product, looking at yourself in the mirror you thought how you never would’ve put on red lipstick yet you feel really good in it. she gave you a small smokey eye and a small winged liner and you felt you looked more aggressive then you were, but you kinda loved it.

“it’s so much but so pretty” you admired yourself and the makeup she put on you slowly getting used to the feeling of fake eyelashes on your eyes. “i’m so glad you love it, but we need to find an outfit like three hours ago” she joked and rushed to your closets “i actually have the perfect dress in mind if you’re feeling the want to rep slytherin green” she raised her eyebrows up at you in a suggestive matter “sure why not” you shrugged

she handed you a velvet body con forest green dress that you were sure was going to be extremely short and you mean in every place. she held it up onto you “this will be perfect. get it on come on” she rushed you into the bathroom and you began putting it on “this is sooo tight” you called out as you struggled “oh i forgot it was a corset back wait i need to help you can i come in” she yelled through the door

“yeah come on i need this thing one me already” you struggled more as she walked in and immediately began to help you loosening the strings of the dress and pulling it down onto you “there we go now suck in like your life depends on it” she said half jokingly and began retightening the corset back. with every pull it felt like your chest was spilling out more and more and your ribs were shrinking “okay merlin that’s enough before i can’t breathe” you huffed and she stopped tying it off in a bow

“stop you look so hot y/n i bet matt will be drooling” she teased and you just rolled your eyes “what do we do with my hair” you looked at her with horror as you only had ten minutes before he should arrive. you quickly began curling your hair not really caring if it was messy just giving it some body and just as you were spraying perfume on there was a knock on your door.

zarah looked at you and whispered “answer it go go now” she pointed to the door like she was afraid to touch it herself and you walked over opening it to see mattheo in an all black button down with the top few buttons undone and black dress looking pants yet somehow he didn’t look overdressed. he didn’t say anything for a minute he was just staring at you looking up and down in awe “holy fuck y/n who did your makeup you look woah” he put his finger on your chin moving your head around examining your makeup

“zarah isn’t it pretty” you smiled and he removed his hand and replied “yeah you are, now let’s go” he grabbed your hand and you looked behind you waving bye to zarah “he’s so in love with you” she whispered before the door slammed closed.

𓆙

once you got the the party you noticed there were already many slytherins already pregaming and mattheo brought you two to them, “let’s get some alcohol in you little puff” he winked and poured you a shot of who knows what, you smelled the foul drink and it made your nose burn “come on do ittt” he cheered on and you held your nose throwing the shot back gagging at the taste. “how do people enjoy that” you made a face at him “like this” he replied taking two shots himself, “now catch up” he winked pouring you yet another

“if i didn’t know any better id say you’re trying to get me drunk matt” you laughed and he looked at you amused “obviously that’s what im trying to do it’s a party” he put the shot glass to your lips and you parted them taking the burning substance down your throat, “eugh that didn’t get any better the second time” you shook your head in disgust. “hm, let me make you an actual drink” he grabbed a clear liquor and a red juice mixing them together adding more alcohol than your past two shots and handed it to you

“matt this smells foul” you looked up at him, “just try it trust me the slytherins have the masking drink down” he winked and you reluctantly took a sip, and to your surprise all you tasted was juice. after taking another few sips you quick began drinking it and mattheo pulled the cup from your lips “slow down there this shits dangerous you’ll get so drunk you won’t be able to walk straight” he chuckled. “it’s not my fault they made it taste like juice” you shrugged still sipping.

“hey mattheo have your little hufflepuff take some shots with us” enzo threw his arm around your shoulders and mattheo pushed them off almost immediately “no she doesn’t need any shots” he spoke “you didn’t even ask me” you protested, granted you didn’t necessarily want to take any shots you just didn’t like being talked for. “oo are you sure you’re not slytherin you got an attitude” enzo laughed handing you a shot and you looked at mattheo who rolled his eyes as you took the shot.

throwing the shot back the burning sensation took over your throat and you could feel it rushing down your throat. you coughed a bit and chugged your drink for comfort “puff you’re going to get shitfaced slow down” matt fully took your cup this time and you were already feeling it. giggling looking up at him “okay now who was going to tell me party’s are fun” you continued giggling.

the music started playing and the slytherin common room was now getting more and more packed. you saw fifth year students and up in here, even a few ravenclaw and hufflepuffs your recognized. to your surprise in the corner of the party you spotted cedric diggory talking to a group of girls holding a drink.

pansy noticed your head being stuck in a certain direction and followed your eyes “oh em gee, someone’s got their eyes on a certain hufflepuff” she winked shoving her shoulder at your “shhhhh he’s just nice to look at” you giggled at her and she giggled along “you two would be soo cute” she added dragging you back to the drinks

“let’s take some shots!” she exclaimed handing you two , you took them smiling and shot them back with her, a woo leaving her mouth. “here chaser, chaser!” she shouted handing you another drink this time what looked like a lot of the punch, downing it all she laughed “girl we’re gonna be gone”. looking around you were seeing doubles of everything but didn’t want the night to already end.

“so, are you a virgin?” pansy shouted over the music making your already alcohol flushed face even redder “pansy!! you can’t just ask that!!” you shouted back flustered at the intrusive question, “i’m only curious girl” she giggled and gave you begging eyes “come onnnn” she shook you till you gave in “fine yes i am but don’t tell anyone!” you replied back as lowly as you could over the music

“who would you lose it to?” she giggled “i lost mine to blaise hehe sshhhh” she winked, considering she just told you her secret you felt obligated and just looked around “i mean i guess cedric” you giggled as she pointed at him after your response. before she could say anything else you felt a pair of hands wrap around your waist and drag you off. trying to kick your way out was useless and they brought you to an empty dorm.

through all of this you couldn’t tell who it was kicking and screaming for them to let you go till you heard mattheos voice “puff calm down it’s just me” he sighed putting you down on what you now assumed was his bed “why did you bring me in here that was so scary” you huffed trying to gain your composure. “diggory?” he scoffed not answering your question.

you looked at him confused as to what he was on about “what do you mean? what about cedric” you cocked your head to the side in confusion “you lost your virginity to him??” he questioned stepping closer to you looking rather.. pissed. you just laughed in response “me? lose my virginity to cedric?.. you’re funny” yeah you fantasized about it but it certainly wouldn’t happen.

“what were you talking to pansy about then??” he looked at you unconvinced, “she asked if i lost it and i said no, but id let him take it.-“ you shrugged “besides you know i tell you everything matt i’ve never even had a boyfriend let alone a guy be interested in my virginity” you sighed laying back onto the bed now feeling upset.

you heard mattheo sigh and you picked your head up to look at him, his eyes stared back at you in silence before breaking it “believe me there’s a lot of guys who want to get in your pants” he rubbed his fists and you gave him a confused expression yet again “what are you on about matt?” you were getting sober just from all of this extra mystery.

he walked over to the bed sitting beside you, “listen when we met you were just.. blooming completely and i would be lying if i didn’t say i first went up to you because of your looks.. well overtime you know we became friends and i noticed other guys staring in ways they shouldn’t have been so i had to teach them a lesson.” he looked at you and yo didn’t know how to respond to something like that.

“what exactly are you saying matt?” you didnt understand what he was poking at, did matt mean to say he basically likes you? were you reading too much into this? “look y/n, no one else in this school fucking deserves you. hell i don’t deserve you but i know i can treat you how you need. don’t ask me what took so long to confess to you y/n, but do you feel even remotely the same?” he let it all out quick and fast, and your mouth dropped.

“you want.. me?” you looked at him in disbelief and he just smiled “that’s what that whole speech was about, yeah” he chuckled nervously awaiting your reply “why?” you sighed still slightly unconvinced “have you fucking seen yourself puff? you’re so undeniably gorgeous, i don’t know how i hold myself back from you everyday” he leaned in closer to you making this all seem more real. without thinking you allowed yourself to lean into him, faces and lips meeting for the most magical first kiss you could’ve ever imagined.

“you’re so fucking beautiful y/n” he grabbed your face pulling you closer to him till you straddled over his lap sitting down continuing the now makeout. “this is so much better than.. imagined” you huffed through the kisses. you could already feel mattheos member growing beneath you and you never thought you’d be the one experiencing this from your best friend.

you’d be lying if you didn’t admit to a fantasy or two about him in the past but this was already one thousand times better than ever imagined. mattheos lips kissed their way down your neck leaving small marks tiny moans leaving your mouth, “i need to hear more of that, y/n, let me eat you out.. please i need a taste” he continued his kisses along your neck bringing them back to your lips “i’ve never- mm yes” you replied as his fingers began making circles over your underwear.

“you sound so good fuck” he groaned pulling you off of him and getting off the bed, “you’re sure of this?” he questioned one last time and you just nodded impatiently awaiting his next move. next thing you knew he was yanking you to the edge of his bed and slowly removing your pants and underwear looking up at you from below. “holy fuck puff.. you’re fucking soaking” he breathed out over your pussy sending tingles down your spine.

without warning his mouth met your untouched area and you felt things never imaginable. his tongue made its way around your bulging clit, flicking it up and down and making his way to your entrance sucking and licking “you taste so good holy fuck” he huffed going right back in not even looking up at you, “can i put two fingers” he spoke from your pussy and you couldn’t even properly answer “mm y-yes” you replied between your moans.

you felt his slender fingers teasing your entrance and he slowly began inching one in and out teasingly, “mattheo-“ you huffed and he chuckled shoving both fingers in, loud moan escaping your mouth and this new feeling. he did a few different moments trying to figure out what makes you moan the most, soon his tongue was sucking expertly on your clit as his fingers twisters and curled inside of you.

“matt i want to.. try” you moaned at this pleasure wanting nothing more than to feel him inside of you now. “mm but you’re not ready yet puff” he continued devouring your pussy simply divulging in it as if he’d never eaten anything before. his pace on everything quickened and you were already near your own orgasm, “if you don’t s-stop i’m gonna cum” you moaned loudly trying to control yourself.

“let go for me sweetheart” he sucked harder on your clit, the nickname and action forcing your orgasm to flood over you harder than you’ve ever been able to make yourself experience. your body was shaking and you couldn’t hold your reactions back, mattheo slowly licked your gushing area clean before standing up “mm now i think you’ll be ready soon” he smirked leaning down over you, grabbing your chin and giving you a kiss.

[mallowsweetmiri]

Truth, Dare, or Punishment ~ Fred Weasley

summary: you bitches asked for dom!Fred and you shall receive. a game of truth or dare in the common room goes south when Mclaggen dares you to kiss him

warnings: possessive dom!Fred, smut, cursing

---------------------------------------------------------

The night had been going splendid so far. Everyone was way too excited after the arrival of Beauxbatons and Durmstrong to go to sleep, and the older Gryffindors decided to get shitfaced as the perfect solution to their restlessness. After all, there was no quidditch this year to justify throwing common room parties, so you guys had to get creative. The new year brought new witches and wizards to corrupt, and so the twins finally let their baby brother Ron and his year join the fun. It been going well, granted Hermione was drunk off her ass, but Harry had been watching over her well enough. You were also past the point of drunk, and you assumed by their faces that the rest of the group were on their way there. At this point in the night, those who were still awake were circled up playing a filthy game of truth or dare. Angelina had gone to do seven minutes in heaven with George, Neville had eaten a puking pastille, and Ron had madeout with Lavender Brown in a disturbing manner. It was time to spin the bottle again to see who would ask the next question. Hermione giggle and leaned into the circle to spin the bottle. Everyone look around with nervous smiles as it spun around and around, before landing on Cormac McLaggen. You cringed. This was possibly the worst person it could've stopped on. Your body had a visceral reaction when your name left his lips.

"Y/N," he smiled drukenly, "Truth or dare?" You rolled your eyes. Oh, great.

"Truth," you said, grabbing your drink and taking a swig. You were going to need it.

"Who did you lose your virginity to?"

You choked on your drink as the rest of the group murmured at the question, Hermione's jaw dropping before a stream of shocked laughs escaped her. You felt Fred tense up beside you. Your mind raced with the memories of this summer at the Burrow.

"Just like that, Y/N. You're doing so good," Fred praised as he thrusted into you, kissing the crook of your neck while he fucked you. He'd been teaching you how kiss, as a friend of course. He had to help out his dear friend Y/N when she confessed how embarrassed she was that she had never kissed anyone. Never done anything with anyone. From there it had escalated. First, you wanted to know learn to give a blowjob, but soon enough Fred thought it'd be best if you knew what these things felt like too. After a while, you both realized you were terribly obsessed with each other, and one night you decided to let him be the one to take your virginity. He was big, and you were nervous, but he was so sweet about it. Even at the beginning when you thought it wouldn't be able to fit, he was reassuring and gentle with you. But that was at the start, and by now he was fully fucking you on your back, your pussy starting the soften around his cock as pleasure began to ripple through your body. You both came together in a heap of sweat and kisses.

"Y/N," McLaggen sung, waiting for your response.

"I'm not answering that," you coughed, still choking on your drink. The group has set up measure to tell if someone was lying, so you couldn't fake still being a virgin. You supposed the question wasn't that out of pocket, but you couldn't answer it. Nobody knew about you and Fred besides George, and you both wanted to keep it that way. Especially from your families.

"Well then, you know the rules," McLaggen tsked teasingly, "you forfeit to dare."

"What? No, I-"

"Those are the rules Y/N," Hermione cringed, unable to stop herself. McLaggen smirked.

"I dare you to kiss me."

You felt nauseous. McLaggen was disgusting, and the last person you'd ever want to kiss. Unfortunately, you'd brought this onto yourself. You should've known he would dare someone to kiss himself. What a weirdo. The circle groaned and laughed in disgust as McLaggen puckered his lips. You cringed and shifted your weight to lean across the circle. Just as you were about to shuffle over to him, Fred grabbed your wrist and pulled you back. You looked back at him and saw anything but a smile on his usually cheerful face. He spun the bottle and landed it on himself in a hasty motion, still holding onto your wrist tightly.

"McLaggen, I dare you to stop wearing your fucking Ballycastle Bats tighty whities to every single quidditch practice," Fred sneered before yanking you up with him and pulling you towards his dorm. You heard the group go crazy with laughter behind you and hoped it would cover for the fact that Fred just pulled you away from the party. Hopefully George could cover for you two, he should be done with seven minutes by now. Fred dragged you up the stairs without so much as a look in your direction. Once you reach his dorm, he threw open the door. What was happening?

"Fred-" he smashed his lips into yours and shut the door with your body. You gasped as your back hit to wooden surface, Fred pulling your skirt up while his hand gripped your thigh. He used your lifted leg as leverage to grind down into your hips as he pressed you against the door. Your pussy pulsed when you felt him against you, his hands gripping in all the right places. Wait a minute. When did he start kissing you again?

"Fred," you said quickly, pulling away from his mouth. He tried to kiss you again. "Fred, we just left the party. You just dragged me up here when I was supposed to kiss-"

"Don't even say his name," Fred growled, his breathing heavy and hot as he kept his face inches from yours.

"I'm sorry," you whispered out, unable to speak properly. You'd never seen Fred mad before.

"I'm sorry I dragged you," he softened, ducking his head down to kiss your neck, "but I wasn't going to let somebody else kiss you." With that, he began to attack your neck. His left hand came up to grip the back of your head as his tongue and teeth lapped at your sweet spot. You let out whimpered moans as he worked, his fingers gripping you just right. Rougher than usual.

"Freddie," you moaned, grinding yourself onto his leg. You needed more. This man had hooked, and you'd never been so addicted in your life. He picked you up under your legs and carried you to the bed before placing you down on your back. He stood over you, leaving you panting on the bed as he took off his shirt and undid his belt. His eyes were locked on yours. You wanted to look away but you couldn't, his gaze wouldn't let you. When he finished, he rushed towards you again, kissing you deeply as his hand flipped your skirt up. His tongued rammed itself into your mouth, stifling your moans when his fingers grazed over your clit. You blushed as his fingers masterfully moved your panties aside and dipped into your core. Fred laughed into the kiss as he felt you.

"Already so wet for me," he breathed huskily, "are you ready to take me?" His words had you aching. You nodded up at him bashfully. You wanted him so badly. You had turned into such a slut for his cock. "Good girl." He sat up and flipped you over, pulling your panties down as he took off his own pants. He didn't bother to take off your skirt as he pulled you back onto him. You let out a guttural moan as you felt his length stretching you out.

"Fuck, Freddie," you whined as he gripped your hips and began to thrust into you. He was going to leave bruises for tomorrow, but you didn't care.

"You're taking it so good, Y/N" Fred groaned, smacking your ass, "you like getting fucked by me? Huh?" He picked up his pace, pounding into you hard. Your moans were bouncing with the rhythm of his thrusts as he waited for your reply.

"Y-yes, Freddie. I love when you fuck me," you whined, feeling you pussy begin to clench around him. His dick twitched at the feeling and groaned. In one motion, he pulled out and spun you onto your back, pulling your shirt up over your tits and pinning your wrists above your head.

"God, you look so fucking pretty. Can't see your beautiful face while I'm behind you," Fred grunted as he thrust back into you. You moaned and threw you head back. You writhed underneath Fred, his hand constraining your wrists. You desperately needed to grasps something. You were reaching the edge.

"Freddie," you cried, unable to say anything except his name. Your eyes clenched shut as you felt your stomach knot up one final time.

"That's it, baby. Come for me." You could feel his eyes on you as you released yourself around his throbbing cock. As the waves of pleasure began to slow, Fred grunted and became sloppy. He released your hands and buried his face into your neck as he came, pushing himself as deep as he could inside of you. He laid there for a moment before pushing himself off you and pulling you onto his chest. You couldn't help but giggle a little as he kissed your head and rubbed your shoulder.

"You are so jealous," you teased, looking up to see Fred. He laughed with a sleepy half smiled.

"I'm not jealous," he retorted, pinching your cheek. "I'm just protecting whats mine."

[lordprettyflackotara]

weasley whore || fred & george weasley

‘it’s not about having someone to love me anymore. this is the experience of being a weasley whore.’

sum: fred and george are your stress reliever fuck buddies, who are always there in your time of need. you’ve only ever had your affair with each of them. how will you handle them together for the first time?

tw: smut, minors dni 18+. choking, shower foreplay.

an: got a part two and three in the chamber

Fred and George Weasley were your safety nets. Explaining how it started is difficult, really.

Attempting to explain it to anyone seemed useless, so you kept your forbidden affair with them a secret.

It started back before University, when Professor Snape had done what he always did: ridicule you before the class.

It wasn’t your fault that you sucked at potions, you tried the hardest you could. You even went to the extent of bribing Theodore Nott to tutor you. All of your attempts continued to fail, resulting in you dramatically running out of class mid session. Surprisingly no one followed you as you ran down the empty halls, tears streaming down your face.

It was there you bumped into George, who was skipping whatever course he was supposed to be attending. You had turned a corner blindly, running straight into him. Unfortunately for you he had a small cauldron full of squid ink inside of it, the black liquid staining your white uniform. This sent you into even further hysterics, your fingers trembling as you tried to wipe it off. Like the gentleman George was he offered to help you get cleaned up, sneaking you into the pristine prefects bathroom.

That was the first time you found yourself entangled with a Weasley.

Fred was next, the two of you meeting by pure mistake. You were not a fan of heights, but a group of Slytherin’s bullying you about not even being able to climb a mere tree was ultimately humiliating. It wasn’t your choice to take a dragon riding class, the University plopped you into it as one of your electives. So then came the ridiculing in the main courtyard. Determined to prove yourself you climbed the closest cherry oak tree, only to find yourself stuck once the skies above cursed you with rain.

The Slytherin’s departed quickly, not wanting to get wet. Meanwhile you were clinging onto the tree limb for dear life, eyes screwed shut to avoid looking at the ground. Thats where Fred had found you, having passed by to attempt to at least show up to his astrology class. He found you utterly adorable, your skirt riding up your thighs and arms wrapped around the tree limb. He carried himself shamelessly into the rain, staring up at you from below.

“Need some help?”

His voice was smooth like butter, causing you to nervously peer down at him. Fred managed to help you down, but not without you slipping in the mud. You had accidentally fallen on top of him, your clothed cunt hovering above his crotch.

Fred couldn’t have dragged you into the room of requirement fast enough.

That’s how things went after that. Every bad day or minor inconvenience, you found yourself running to which ever one you found first. Contrary to grade school, the infamous twins were more often separate than together. It never mattered to you who you found first, both of them eager to make you forget about your problems. You hadn’t anticipated this to become your crutch, your addiction. But it had.

Your luck had turned sour over the past week.

Failed exams, explosive potions, accidentally transforming Neville Longbottom into a mouse.

It all came to a head when you were at quidditch practice, your bright yellow uniform a nice contrast against the crimson red ones you were practicing with.

It was rare you practiced with Gryffindor, the houses oftentimes switching opponents around to keep things fresh and interesting. You recognized the Weasley twins instantly, giving them a sheepish wave as you mounted onto your broom. You were a seeker, chasing after the golden snitch like you usually did. You were silently thankful Harry didn’t bother to attend University, instead making Angelina take the spot. You both were neck and neck, your eyes glued to the little gold ball. So glued in fact you hadn’t noticed Angelina falling back, a bludger smacking you dead in the face.

In the most unflattering fashion imaginable you fell off of your broom, hitting the grass with a hard thud.

You were lucky to still be conscious, your head pounding as you forced yourself to sit up. You could hear both teams rushing down to your aid, your cheeks flushed with embarrassment as you made yourself stand up. You shoved past the crowd of worry players, trudging into the showers. Each team has a designated locker room with showers to clean up after a game. Most teams never used theirs unless they lost, the winning team always off to gloat and party. You hardly ever thought twice about the showers, but now you did.

Peeling off your uniform and throwing it aside carelessly, you cringed at the burning sensation the scolding hot water provided the scrape on your knee. The hot water provided some sort of contentment, your head tilting back to soak in its warmth. You leaned back against the tiled wall, swallowing as you realized you needed some sort of stress relief. You slithered your hand down to your folds, finding your clit. You bit your bottom lip as you began to swirl your fingers around the bud, trying to hold back any sinful noises threatening to slip out.

When was the last time you touched yourself like this? Allowing yourself to unwind on your own?

Even as you did so, the steam from the hot shower rising, your mind went to two gingers.

You had never thought about taking them both before, but your mouth watered at the idea as you began to draw faster circles around your clit. Low whimpers escaped your lips, the thrill of being caught only turning you on further. Your eyes were fluttered shut, your mind lost in a realm of appealing fantasies when you heard footsteps.

You could feel that your face went white, instantly trying to cover yourself.

“Oh don’t stop making those pretty noises just because we’re here,” George cooed.

Poking your head out of the shower curtain your favorite set of twins stood before you. Both of them were undressing, while staring at you like you were the crazy one. “What are you guys doing in here?” You hissed, glancing down at their crimson uniforms. Fred chuckled as he tossed aside his helmet. “What does it look like we’re doing? We’re here to make sure you’re okay,” He said, a mischievous smile crawling up his lips. They both seemed to move in unison, your heart pounding.

“What if you both get caught? It’s forbidden for you to be in here!” You whisper yelled. George had managed to finish stripping first, delivering you a cocky grin. “This wouldn’t be our worst offense little lady. Besides, mostly everyone else left,” He explained. He stepped towards you, your heart racing as you allowed him to step into the shower. You were so flustered you failed to notice Fred step in using the other side, your back colliding with his chest. “Boo,” He chuckled. Your cheeks were flushed with heat, the warm water not helping.

“I-I’m not sure I can take both of you guys,” You admitted lowly. Sheepishly you looked away, George quick to grab your chin. He guided you to look up at him, causing you to swallow. “Shh this isn’t about us. We’re here to take care of you,” He cooed. Fred snickered from behind you, placing his large hands on your hips. “Besides, we heard those pretty noises you made. We know you were thinking about us,” He purred, nibbling on your earlobe. This extracted a groan from you, your body melting under their touch.

George lowered himself onto his knees, maintaining eye contact with you as he did so. “We just wanna make you feel good. You’ll let us do that for you, right?” He asked. Fred’s hands slithered up to your breast, squeezing the flesh before his fingers found your nipples, “You know what we wanna hear baby. Go on. Beg.”

Pleas left your lips like a mantra.

“Please— please, need you both. Wanna be good!”

Your begging only made both of the boys cocks grow harder, George grinning as he nudged his way in between your thighs.

“There we go. There’s our good little witch,” Fred praised, twisting your nipples harshly. You hissed in response as George’s warm tongue licked a stripe up your folds. Your hand instinctively flew to his hair, tangling itself in his roots. “Awe is someone desperate? Thats adorable,” Fred taunted. He snuck one of his hands up to your throat, squeezing the sides as George began to lap at your folds. George adored giving you head, rambling on and on about how divine you tasted. This was evident as he gripped your thighs. His lips sucked at your clit, your juices costing his chin. Fred nibbled at your earlobe, noting the way your body began to grind against George’s face.

“You like that? You like the way George devours that pretty pussy of yours?” Fred asked, brushing your hair to the side to gain access of your neck. You gasped as he attached his lips to your sweet spot, sucking harshly at the skin. “Mmm- yes! Georgie always makes me feel sooooo good,” You slurred. It was then George brought his slender fingers to your entrance, roughly shoving them inside of you. You gasped, shuddering as he curled them inside of you. “Shhh, wouldn’t want anyone to hear you would we?” Fred cooed, smirking into your skin as a bruise began to form. George could feel the way you squeezed his fingers at the idea.

“You should feel the way she’s squeezing me Freddie, I think she wants to be caught,” George commented, acting as if you weren’t even there. That only made you cling to him tighter, your gummy walls telling him everything he needed to know. “Oh is that right? You wanna be caught between us?” Fred mused. His teeth grazed your skin, causing your knees to threaten to buckle. George continued his assault on your g spot, admiring the way your hips bucked towards him. “I think she likes that, us talking about her as if she isn’t here,” George concluded. He then reattached his mouth to your clit, his tongue swirling around the bud.

“Awe is that so? You wanna be our little Weasley whore?” Fred gloated, snickering into your skin. You could feel his hard cock pressing against you from behind, the warm shower water trailing down your skin.

They always brought you to the edge so quickly, but together? You felt like your body was ignited and on fire, engulfed in the pleasurable flames only Fred and George could give you.

“Fuck, yes! Wanna— be your whore!”

George knew the body like the back of your hand, sensing your orgasm was coming near. Fred reattached his hand to your throat, his breath hot as he spoke into your ear.

“Go on then. Call yourself our whore and you can cum.”

His venomous tone only made your thighs tremble, your vision going white as you declared what you truly were.

“I’m cumming, shit- I’m a Weasley whore!”

[heaven4lostgirls]

can I request a poly!rosekiller where Barty and Evan are dating already and they slowly start to incorporate reader into their relationship and before they realize it they’re basically in love with her or smth 🎀

(also I love your writing oml)

pairing: poly!rosekiller x reader

summary: request above!

word count: 1.2K

a/n: i?? love?? you?? thank you for requesting! feeling very inspired abt rosekiller at the moment!

✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰

“You look like a dog without its owner Crouch” Regulus says as he enters the Slytherin common room and sits across from the aforementioned boy. “Piss off Black, don’t you have a Gryffindor to bother?” Barty snarks back as he slinks into his chair in what anyone else besides him would consider a pout.

“Missing your boyfriend?” Regulus pouts back mockingly before Barty bares his teeth at him. “No, actually. Y/N’s spending the day with Remus, reading some stupid novel” Barty counters with a huff. Regulus barks a laugh at the petulant expression on his friend’s face.

“We’ve been friends since we started Hogwarts and I’ve never seen you pout over anyone like that, other than Evan” Regulus says simply and Barty looks at him in mock outrage.

“I do not pout!” Barty states, “besides, I just miss her, I’m used to spending most of my time with her and Evan that I’m not sure what I’m supposed to do when they’re not around” Barty complains as he lays down on the couch in the common room.

“You’re in love with her” Regulus coughs out and Barty turns to look at him with a glare. “what??” Barty hisses and Regulus shrugs with a knowing smirk. “Talk to your boyfriend about it Crouch”

Barty huffs and with an indignant huff of, “maybe I will!” He stalks off to wherever the fuck Evan is.

After looping the school twice, Barty finds Evan smoking a cigarette in the courtyard, he walks over to him without so much as a hello before he’s pulling him into an empty classroom. “Hello to you love, if you wanted a quick shag you could’ve just told me” Evan smirks in greeting but is met with Barty’s scowl.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” Evan coos in immediate worry, Barty’s only tell of his surprise is the slight widening of his eyes before he shakes his head. His expressions shifts to contemplation before he presses a quick kiss to Evan’s lips. “Regulus thinks I’m in love with Y/N” Barty states deadpan.

Evan’s eyes widen and his mouth drops open slightly, “what?!” He says, “…are you?” He asks skeptically and Barty is quick to shake his head.

“No!” Barty defends himself before he looks at Evan with a look of suspicion, “do you think I am?” He asks incredulously. “What? No!” Evan immediately denies but then looks slightly uneasy.

“I mean…we’re not exactly very platonic with her, are we?” Evan says with a slight wince. Barty quirks a brow and shakes his head, “but we’re like that with everyone, remember when I tried to kiss Reg on his cheek and he punched me in the face, but when I did it to Dora she was okay with it!” Barty says with fake cheer, almost forceful sounding.

“Yeah! sure!, I mean, of course we’re not in love with her, Regulus doesn’t know what he’s on about!” Evan says but hopes to himself that Barty doesn’t look closer into him to notice the slight twinge of falseness in his tone.

Barty nods in a decisive manner before a contemplative silence envelopes the two lovers, disrupted only by the sound of the school bell. “I’m gonna go check on Y/N, wanna come?” Barty quickly asks and they share a look of understanding, neither willing to admit what they’re feeling.

“Sure, haven’t seen her all day!” Evan says as his tummy swirls in a mixture of anticipation and what he hopes is excitement.

“Been studying with Remus” Barty says offhandedly, unbeknownst to Evan’s inner turmoil as an ugly feeling bubbles under his skin, one he’s only felt after finding out that Barty used to have feelings for Regulus.

Evan pushes it down, not letting himself think too much about it in fear of it confirming something he’s not ready to vocalize.

As they reach the Gryffindor common room, Barty mutters the password in slight impatience before he walks briskly to the couches where you and Remus seem to reside.

Sitting close enough for your arms and legs to be touching, Evan’s eye twitches at the sight, Barty scoops you up within immediate notice and places you in his lap on the other couch. Much to your chagrin and Remus’ amusement.

“Rosier, Crouch” Remus says in greeting with a small smirk and a knowing glance as Barty’s hands splayed over your midsection to keep you from moving.

“Lupin” Evan and Barty growl in distaste. “Barty, let. me. go.” You growl as you struggle in his hold, “stop struggling angel, I missed you” Barty huffs as he places his face in the crook of your neck, placing a soft kiss in the area.

Remus only meets Evan’s gaze with a quirked eyebrow before Evan huffs and moves to sit on the other side of the couch next to Barty, pulling your legs into his lap as he strokes your leg in soft touches, letting you readjust your position in Barty’s lap.

Your leg muscles tense before relaxing as you meet Evan’s calm gaze. “Hi” you murmur, abashedly at the attention from both boys. “Hi angel” Evan murmurs back in a tone laced with affection. His eyes not leaving yours as he allows his mouth to curve into a rare, gentle smile.

Your eyes widen as you look at him as your face heats, “good day?” You cough out, embarrassed by your lack of composure. “Dull, getting better though” he says as his pupils expand as he continues to watch you, lovesick.

Barty only hums, “what did Evan do to get such a sweet greeting?” Barty pouts and you can’t help but smile, which seemingly quells any qualms Barty had concerning whatever argument he was about to hold with you.

“Hello Junior” you coo affectionately, his eyes widen significantly before a wide grin blooms across his face. He looks more boyish in comparison to the unhinged and emotionless Slytherin the rest of Hogwarts knows.

You’re unaware of Remus bidding you all goodbye as he makes his way back to his dorm, too enraptured by the gazes of the two boys in front of you.

“Angel” Barty says with a grin as he looks all over your face with adoration, lifting a hand from your waist to push a lock of your hair behind your ear.

You laugh before looking towards the other couch, only now noticing the departure of your dear friend. “Oh no! I was supposed to help Remus with his herbology notes!” You say with a gasp.

“Leave it.” Barty murmurs and he pulls you back into him, your form melting at the familiar sense of his hands on your waist. “Meet with him tomorrow” Evan supplies helpfully and you smile back in thanks with a nod.

You snuggle deeper into the chest of Barty as you pull Evan to lie further on top of you. “Tired?” Barty hums again as he places his hand into your hair, softly playing with it an subsequently lulling you to sleep.

You only half-assedly hum and close your eyes as you turn to let Evan lay his head in the crook of your neck and shoulder and your place your lips in his hair, kissing it softly.

Unbeknownst to you, the position allows both Evan and Barty to make eye contact, something they had both been eagerly avoiding in fear of what the other might find in their gaze.

We are so fucked Barty mouths to Evan, who only smiles wider and shrugs nonchalantly.

Who cares is his only reply.

[theostrophywife]

le coup de foudre.

pairing: regulus black x reader.

song inspiration: my love mine all mine by mitski.

author's note: this was a result of me binging dune and call me by your name. whoever fancasted timothee chalamet as regulus deserves a forehead kith cause look at him. he's so boyfriend coded it makes me sick.

Regulus Black did not believe in love at first sight. 

It was a foolish notion. One that contradicted his pragmatic beliefs. At his core, Regulus was a realist. In his world, love was not a luxury one could afford. Regulus was raised with the expectation to marry according to class, wealth, and most importantly, blood status. The noble and most ancient house of Black only took the purest of the pure. 

After all, toujours pur, always pure, has been his family’s motto for centuries. There has never been any doubt in his mind that he’d marry another member of the sacred twenty eight. It wasn’t a matter of if, only a question of when. 

During his sixth year, his mother made her intentions very clear. Walburga Black was adamant that he begin his search for a suitable bride. Leave it to his mother to compose a list of ladies she deemed suitable to become the future Mrs. Black. Regulus was to adhere to the carefully curated roster. They were names that he’d seen a million times before. Greengrass, Prewett, Rosier. Girls he’d grown up with and inadvertently had absolutely no interest in. 

Still, his mother was insistent so Regulus complied. He took the girls out on dates. The formula was rather simple: dinner at the fanciest restaurant in town followed by a walk around the city square in which he offered to buy his date a dessert like the proper gentleman his mother raised him to be. Despite the fact that Regulus had the entire process down to a science, the dates were always unsatisfactory. 

He was polite, of course. Opened the door, pulled out their chair, asked the appropriate level of questions to get to know his counterpart, but by the time the appetizers arrived, Regulus was on the verge of stabbing himself with the butter knife just to rouse himself from boredom. 

Regulus placed no blame on the girls. They were only doing what their families had raised them to do. Sit pretty, chew gracefully, agree with his opinions. All while wearing breakneck heels and a smile to boot. It was all terribly fucked up, but this was the world they lived in. 

The more he went on these dates, the more he realized that he didn’t want some pretty, docile wife. What he truly needed was someone who was willing to challenge him, to call him out on his bullshit, to argue with him when his own stubbornness prevented him from seeing reason. Regulus came to the horrible, earth-shattering realization that he probably wouldn’t find a woman like that on his mother’s list. 

As he walked back from another mind numbing date, Regulus grappled with this newfound dilemma. He didn’t want to endure another one of these disastrous dates. He didn’t want to sit through an entire meal making small talk. He definitely didn’t want to disappoint another girl by not kissing them at the end of the night. 

It wasn’t like any of them liked him anyways. Though they loved the idea of Regulus Black, he was quite certain that they wouldn’t afford the same affections to Reggie—the real and true version of himself. The one that Sirius often said Regulus kept in a neatly locked cage.

He wished he could be more like his brother. Sirius had always been the brave one. It was that infamous Gryffindor boldness that prompted his older brother to rebel against his family’s expectations. Instead of heeding to their mother’s ridiculous list, Sirius chose to date Remus in open defiance to Walburga’s orders. It resulted in him getting kicked out of 12 Grimmauld Place and burned off the family portrait, but Sirius didn’t seem to mind one bit.  

In a lot of ways, Regulus envied his brother. Sirius had the guts to stand up for himself. He wasn’t burdened by the crippling pressure of pleasing their mother. In all honesty, Reggie wondered if such a thing was even achievable. As he brooded, Regulus found himself on the shores of the Black Lake. His body had taken him here on autopilot. It was his only place of refuge in the castle. 

Regulus paced the rickety wooden dock. His mind was working so fast, so many thoughts spinning in his head, that it felt like he might work himself up to a fit. This has always been his problem. Sirius often said that he lived in his head too much. He frowned, trying and failing to get ahold of himself. For once, he wished he could just shut his brain off entirely.

Just then, Regulus felt a drop of water hit his head. He looked up and found dark, gray clouds hovering over the horizon. The stormcloud broke open and unleashed torrential rain all around him. Fucking fantastic. The world truly couldn’t give him a bloody break, could it? 

With a sigh, Regulus began making his way back. The ground was sodden underneath his feet, his boots sinking into the sand and dragging behind his black coat. The waves lapped violently across the shore as the wind lashed against the murky waters. Regulus was almost at the edge of the beach when he spotted you. 

A flash of movement from the corner of his eye. Regulus stopped dead in his tracks. There, at the mouth of the Black Lake, in the middle of the pouring rain, stood a girl with the most breathtaking smile he had ever seen. 

Regulus was fairly certain that you had History of Magic together. He sat behind you in class, passed by you in the halls, even reached for the same book in the forbidden section of the library once, but Reggie had never once seen that smile. The gravity of it threatened to knock the very breath from his lungs. 

There was something carefree about you. The way you spread your arms, tilted your head back, and laughed in the midst of the rain and thunder. Almost like you were welcoming the storm. 

It was only when your eyes locked that Regulus realized he was staring. You cocked your head at him, trailing your gaze from the curls plastered against his cheek to the nice button down and freshly pressed trousers that were now soaked from the rain, down to the shiny leather boots that were now digging into the sand. You seemed amused at the sight of him.

Ever the perfect gentleman, Regulus snapped out of his daze and jogged over to you. Without hesitation, he raised his coat over your head to shield you from the rain even though you were already both drenched. 

“What are you doing out in the rain?” Regulus asked, his voice full of genuine concern. “You’ll catch a cold.” 

You stepped out of the refuge of his expensive looking coat and held your hand out, catching droplets in your palm. “I don’t mind. I just…I just needed to feel the rain on my skin, that’s all.”

You supposed it must’ve seemed strange to him, but the rain always made you feel better. Lately, life had been just a little too overwhelming. There was so much pressure to do well in classes, to hang out with friends while balancing your clubs and sports, as well as making time to write back to your parents. When it all became a bit too much, you tended to come to the Black Lake for some sort of refuge. The rain was just an added bonus. 

If Regulus found your behavior bizarre, he didn’t say. Instead, he just smiled softly. “Well, you got your wish. It’s soaked out here.” 

“I know,” you responded with an enthusiastic nod. “It’s nice, isn’t it?” 

“Standing out in the pouring rain? On a beach where lightning can strike me down at any second? Yes, it’s absolutely splendid.”

Your mouth quirked in amusement. “No one’s telling you to stay out here.” You nodded towards the castle. “You’re more than welcome to take your brooding inside where it’s warm and dry. Not to mention, free of the dangers of lightning strikes, which are extremely rare by the way.” 

“With my luck, I might be the poor one in a million git who gets torched while getting insulted by a pretty girl.” 

“Did I insult you?’ you quipped back. “I hadn’t noticed.”

“You accused me of brooding.” 

“I didn’t accuse, I stated. Even the Wizengamot would have to rule that you were, in fact, brooding.” 

Regulus raised a brow. “What happened to innocent before proven guilty?” 

“Unfortunately, the evidence is overwhelming and the verdict is set. You, Regulus Black, have been sentenced for glaring at the Black Lake so menacingly that even the giant squid refuses to come to shore. Off to Azkaban you go.” 

“Do you promise to write me letters? Update me of how the world’s progressed without my dazzling presence?” 

“It would be my genuine pleasure.” 

Regulus chuckled at your dry humor. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d bantered like this with anyone, much less with a strange not-so-stranger. You sat down on the wet sand and patted the spot beside you with a grin.

“Why don’t you take a seat and tell me all about your troubles.” 

Beyond the bleak horizon, the spires of the castle peeked through the gray clouds. Regulus thought of the common room where his housemates would no doubt be gathered around the ornate fireplace for warmth. Knowing his friends, they’d probably be indulging in spiked hot chocolate and playing some childish drinking game. A few minutes ago, nothing appealed to him more, but now Regulus found himself choosing the violent rain and soggy sand. All because of you, his mystery girl.

You leaned back on your elbows and cocked your head at him. “What ails you, Mr. Black?” 

“That depends. How much do you bill per hour?” 

“Fortunately for you, I’m in a generous mood so I’ll throw in a free session. Consider it my pro-bono work.” 

“How kind of you,” Regulus said with a serious expression. “My brother’s been nagging me to see a mind healer for years. All that childhood trauma, you know.” 

A small smile tugged at your lips, revealing a set of dimples that he found rather charming. “I can’t tell if you’re being serious or not.” 

“My brother is Sirius. I’m Regulus, remember?” 

You snorted in a very unladylike manner, which only made Regulus grin. There was something so unapologetically you in your laugh that was absolutely endearing to him. Regulus smiled and knocked his shoulder against yours. 

You mimicked the action and smiled back at him. “All sarcasm aside, I was being genuine. If you want to talk about it, I’m here to listen.” 

"Do you often offer therapy sessions to complete strangers?"

"Only to surly Slytherins with sad eyes and pretty curls," you quipped back. "And we're not strangers. I sit behind you in potions. We're practically best mates."

"You think my curls are pretty?"

"Like a little cherub's. Are you quite sure you haven't escaped from the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel? You look like one of Michelangelo's angels. Except with way more scowling." Regulus grinned. He got the feeling that you always said whatever you wanted, whenever you wanted. It was refreshing. "There's a smile. See? Our session is already progressing."

"I think you might get more than you bargained for with me, I'm afraid."

You met the challenge in his words head on. "Try me."

“You were right. I’m definitely guilty of brooding.” 

“What happened?” 

Regulus hesitated for a moment. He had never been the type of person to be candid with his feelings, especially not with someone he barely knew. Usually, he just kept his thoughts to himself and ruminated on them in the privacy of his dorm until he drove himself mad by overthinking, but your presence brought him an unexplainable ease. For once in his life, Regulus chose not to question it. 

“I’ve had a long night,” he said, tucking his knees up to his chest. “I just got back from a date.” 

“It didn’t go well?” 

“It was…fine. It’s always fine. But it’s the same thing over and over again, just with a different girl.” 

“I wouldn’t have taken you for a playboy, Regulus Black.”

Regulus chuckled. “I’m not some unscrupulous rake, I assure you.” 

“Yes, that much is obvious from your use of the word unscrupulous.” You tucked your legs underneath you. “So why go on all of these dates if you find them so tedious?” 

“It’s my mother,” Regulus explained. “She has this list.” 

“A list?” 

“Yes, a list of girls that I’m to court. Noble, pureblooded, proper ladies of society that my mother has deemed worthy of marriage.” 

“You’re seventeen years old. Shouldn’t you be worrying about quidditch games and potions exams?” 

Regulus nodded. “Yes, one would think. But my family has always been different. Since my brother left, my parents have been obsessed with grooming me into becoming the perfect heir.” 

“How do you feel about that?” 

He sighed. “Stifled. Exhausted. Smothered. I can feel the weight of their expectations weighing me down every second of every day.” 

“I’m sorry, Regulus. That’s a terrible burden to carry.” 

Regulus shrugged. “Others have it worse.” 

“It doesn’t mean that your problem is any less heavy.” 

To Regulus, the acknowledgement felt oddly validating. Even though you knew nothing of his circumstance, there was wisdom in your words and you delivered it delicately, like you actually cared to hear his troubles. You were devoid of the judgment he'd grown accustomed to and he found that rather freeing.

“It’s just…sometimes I think that I’ll never be the perfect son. My brother, he’s always been the brave one. Classic Gryffindor,” he said with an eye roll. You chuckled, but stayed silent. It was obvious that Regulus had a myriad of thoughts to unpack tonight and you were more than happy to just listen. “Sirius has never cared what anyone thought about him, least of all our parents. I admire that about him, but I just don’t think I’m wired that way. I care too much.” 

“That’s not necessarily a bad thing,” you said softly. “Apathy is so common nowadays, finding someone who can admit that they care is refreshing. Though, I think it’s not without limits. You can’t please everyone. No matter what you do, someone is going to have something to complain about. You might as well be yourself.” 

“That’s exactly the problem,” Regulus pondered. “All of these girls on my mother's list, I think they like the idea of Regulus Black, but he’s an illusion. It isn’t the real me.” 

“Then who is the real you?” 

“I don’t know,” he said honestly. “I’m just Reggie. I like playing quidditch and reading depressing literature and memorizing obscure history facts. I hate messy rooms and orange juice and anything that crawls.”  

You smiled. “And what kind of girl does Reggie like?” 

“Someone witty. Someone funny. Someone who’ll argue with me. Someone who doesn’t just nod and agree with everything I say."

"So what you're saying is that you don't want a nice girl?"

Regulus shook his head. "No, I think I need someone who challenges me. Who sees me for who I am rather than what I represent. Don’t get me wrong, I’m sure the girls on my mother’s list are lovely, but I don’t think they’d actually like me if they knew who I really am.” 

“I don’t know, Reggie seems like a great guy. That Regulus bloke, on the other hand…” you scrunched your nose in disapproval. 

“Hey!” Regulus chided, “I’m pouring my heart out to you. That took a lot of courage, you know.” 

“You’re very brave, Reggie,” you said with a grin. “But you know what would be even braver?” 

Regulus squinted in the rain as you stood to your feet. Lightning crackled over the horizon, illuminating you with an ethereal silver glow. You held out your hand to him. “Come dance with me.” 

“Deathly afraid of being struck by lightning, remember?” 

“Sorry, what?” You asked as you shimmied around him. It wasn’t graceful by any means. It was the goofiest thing he’d ever seen and yet he’d never been so enthralled. You danced without a care in the world and it made him genuinely laugh. “I can’t hear you over all the fun I’m having.” 

"This is ridiculous," he said over the roaring thunder.

You shrugged. "Perhaps. But everyone's allowed to be a little ridiculous sometimes. Besides, I was asking Reggie not Regulus."

“Are you really trying to peer pressure me into dancing with you?” 

“That depends,” you replied with a cheeky smile. “Is it working?” 

Regulus conceded with a sigh and leapt to his feet. The youngest Black brother bowed like a proper gentleman. “May I have this dance, my lady?"

“You may, good sir.” 

You grinned up at him as he took you by the waist and waltzed with you across the sand. Surprisingly, Regulus let you take the lead. He chuckled when you stepped on his toes and laughed even harder when you tried to twirl him. Towering a good foot over you, Regulus had to fully crouch for the maneuver to work. 

Finally, you gave up the formality and just spun around in dizzying circles. There was absolutely no rhyme or rhythm to it. Just two idiots dancing in the rain with the biggest smiles on their faces. 

Your coordination, or lack thereof, caused you to almost faceplant into the sand. Regulus yelped as you took him down with you. By the time you recovered from the laughing fit, the two of you were red-faced, out of breath, and laying side by side along the shore. He turned over to you and brushed a stray strand of hair behind your ear. 

“That was the most fun I’ve had in years.” 

“See? There’s more to life than just being moody and melancholic.” 

“So this mystery girl of mine keeps reminding me,” Regulus said with a smile. “You never told me your name, by the way.” 

“Wow, you don’t even know my name? I’m offended, Reggie. We’ve only been in classes together since fifth year.” 

“I—we’ve never been introduced—” 

You broke out into a smile and giggled. You thought it was cute that Reggie was so easily flustered. “I’m just kidding, Reggie.” 

He sighed in relief as you stuck out your hand. “Y/N. My name is Y/N.” 

Regulus slipped his hand into yours. He cocked his head, studying your eyes and your smile and those cute little dimples. 

Y/N. The last name on his mother’s list. The one he saved for last because he didn’t know who she was. 

The French had a saying—le coup de foudre. The infamous phrase translated to a bolt of lightning or love at first sight. Regulus had long dismissed it as flowery prose, but thanks to his mystery girl, he started to think that maybe the Parisians were onto something because meeting you tonight felt preordained. A date with fate. Like a bolt of lightning streaking through his dark, endless skies.

“It’s nice to meet you, Y/N.” 

You grinned. “It’s nice to meet you, Reggie.” 

Regulus smiled and laced your fingers together. He was frozen, it was raining, and he was fairly certain that you were both probably going to catch a cold, but he didn’t care. In that moment, as he stared up at the sky, blinking back the rain, and intertwining his fingers with yours, Regulus had never felt more content. 

So no, Regulus did not believe in love at first sight, but love at second, third, and even fourth glance? He smiled a little as he gazed back at you, letting his gaze linger as he drank in that infectious laugh and sunny grin. 

You made him think that maybe, just maybe, a girl like you could convert a skeptic like him into a devout believer.

[ellecdc]

hii!! i rlly like your writing and was wondering if you could do a request ? remus (or wolfstar ) x reader where its like posthogwarts and she went to a diff wizarding school and the wizard thing was hush hush cuz she was a muggle, but then one day she like accidentally uses magic and they were like “ omg wait what” and like yeah. anyways pls feel free to ignore this its a very odd request LMAO. thank you so so much for taking the time to read this !!! (im sorry if this sounds weird i dk how to talk to ppl) ok bye 🫶

this was a very cute prompt! thank you so much for your request and your patience in my writing it!

poly!wolfstar x fem!reader who they believe to be a muggle [1.8k words]

CW: fear of werewolf prejudice, fear of muggle born prejudice, I also included a line in French and you can find the translation at the bottom of the work

Sirius knew that they were, perhaps, being a little bit selfish by keeping such a big secret from you.

Statute of Secrecy be damned, they were well beyond the point in your relationship where they could have (and likely should have) told you that he and Remus were wizards (oh, and, while we’re at it, Remus turns into a beast once a month so there’s that, too). 

And while their friends all suspected it was Remus who was hesitant to tell you the truth on account of his lycanthropy, it had actually been Sirius who kept procrastinating the long overdue conversation.

But Sirius had to admit that he was very scared to tempt fate, because meeting you had been a complete fluke and he wasn’t willing to muck it up by scaring you off. How many times in one life did someone get the chance to meet a perfect angel?

Sirius had already met Remus which felt like nothing short of destiny, and then they met you, and that felt prophetic. And who was Sirius to mess with the prophecy? 

“You cannot chicken out tonight.” Remus muttered as Sirius rapped on your door, earning him an indignant scoff from his boyfriend. 

“I’ve never once chickened out in my entire life, thank you very much. That’s why I was sorted into Gryffindor.”

Remus merely snorted. “Sure, that’s why this is our seventh attempt at breaking the news, yeah?”

Sirius refused to look at Remus before banging (slightly louder) on your door once more before you finally opened up.

Gods you were so bloody beautiful; smiling like you couldn’t physically be any happier that your two boys were here, eyes excited and bright and so full of love and fuck sakes he couldn’t do it.

“Hey dove.” Remus greeted for the both of them, seeing as Sirius’ brain was short circuiting on account of your beauty and loveliness, pressing a kiss to your hairline and all but shoving Sirius past the threshold of your door. “It smells amazing, what are you making?”

Your smile seemed to grow impossibly brighter at the praise. “A vegetable bake! It’s sort of Mediterranean, and I’m making pasta to go with it.” You explained excitedly, and Sirius honestly felt like he was going to start overflowing with the amount of fondness he had for you.

“You going to say hello to our girl, Siri? Or are you just going to keep staring at her?” Remus taunted as he walked further into your flat to place the flowers he was carrying for you in a vase - the routine of bringing you bouquets every time they visited so practised that he knew where to find your vases. 

“Of course, gorgeous. Sorry for being rude.” He murmured as he pulled you into his chest and breathed you in. “You’ve got to stop answering the door looking so bloody beautiful; I completely forget myself.”

You giggled into his chest and then leaned on your tiptoes to press a chaste kiss to his lips that he - the selfish bastard - didn’t find nearly enough before he pulled you into a second deeper, lingering kiss. 

“It’s good to see you, Sirius.” 

Sirius sighed happily - because really, it was even better to see you - as he shuffled the two of you towards the kitchen Remus was now fussing in. 

“Beautiful!” You cheered as Remus positioned the bouquet in the middle of your kitchen island; and Sirius could see the mischief in Remus’ eyes even if you couldn’t.

“Just like you, dove.”

And, quite possibly one of their favourite sights, they watched you turn bashful as you opted to fuss with the arrangement instead of looking at either of them. 

“Listen, sweetheart, we were wondering if perhaps before we eat, we could chat with you about something?” Remus decided to rip the bandaid, and Sirius wanted to hex him for the way your body tensed and you looked at him with what appeared to be mild horror.

“Oh- uhm, okay, yeah, sure that’s… that’s fine.” You stuttered as you moved to the kitchen table to take a seat, both boys following obediently. 

Sirius watched as Remus moved last week's bouquet - which Sirius had secretly cast a stasis charm over so that they would last longer - out of the centre of the table and closer to Sirius so that they could both have a better view of you. 

“Is…everything okay?” You asked cautiously as you fiddled with the sleeve of your shirt. Sirius wanted to throw up. 

“Of course, dovey.” Remus assured you, though it was Sirius’ thigh he gave a comforting squeeze under the table. “We just know that we’ve been seeing each other for a while now, and we’ve grown to care about you quite a lot- you know that, right?”

Sirius watched as the divot between your brows only deepened as you nodded hesitantly. “So much, gorgeous; we care about you so much.” He insisted when it didn’t look like you truly believed them. 

“But we just, well, we haven’t been completely honest with you, is all. And now that we’re at this point in our relationship, we…we feel like we owe it to you to be honest.” Remus continued, clearly beginning to feel just as out of his depth as Sirius was. 

Your face fell completely blank, though Sirius could tell you were still tugging nervously at your shirt sleeve.

“Baby, I swear this isn’t bad, we- I rather think I’m in love with you, and-”

But as Sirius went to reach his hand over to rub at your arm in a way he hoped to be comforting, he ended up knocking over the vase stationed in front of him.

It didn’t break, thank Merlin, but it did topple over before Sirius could catch it and the water poured over the table.

Remus went to stand quickly to avoid being soaked, but no sooner had he pushed his chair away from the table was the vase floating towards you and the water completely vanished. 

Not looking at the boys in front of you, you righted the vase and repositioned the florals to your liking before looking up at Remus who was now standing and staring at you owlishly, and Sirius who was gaping at you from his seat.

“Did you just-” Sirius started, voice no more than a whisper, but was quickly cut off by the sound of a timer in the kitchen.

You waved your hand in that direction mindlessly before sinking back despondently in your chair and staring down at your lap, the timer silent.

“Y/N.” Remus rasped. “Did- was that…are you a witch?” 

You appeared to flinch as if you’d just realised what you’d done before you looked up; all colour seemingly draining from your face.

“What? I-” You started with a nervous chuckle. “I don’t know what you’re talking about? There’s no such thing as witches…”

But Sirius knew what he saw, the first could have been an accident - a trick of the mind - but the second act of magic was all the confirmation he needed.

Silently, Remus summoned the vase of flowers towards him before charming them to dance to imaginary music, plucking one from its stem and turning it gold before reaching across the table to put it behind your ear as you gaped at him. 

“You’re…a wizard?” You whispered in disbelief. 

At that, Sirius stood and spun, turning into Padfoot and panting excitedly at your feet as his tail whacked against the table leg with every wag.

A wet laugh escaped you before either boy realised you were wiping your eyes.

“Oh my gods?” 

“Awe, dovey.” Remus cooed as he moved over to Sirius’ chair so he could take your hands in his. “Don’t cry.”

“Is this what you guys were going to tell me?” You asked cautiously, hopefully. 

Padfoot melted back into Sirius, but he stayed kneeling at your feet as he rubbed soothing stripes up and down your calf. “Yes, baby; this was it.” He assured you. “I’m sorry we scared you.”

“So, that boarding school you went to in France?” Remus asked with an arched eyebrow.

“Beauxbatons.” You confirmed with a nod of your head. “And your boarding school in Scotland?”

“Hogwarts.” The two boys chorused, and you all let out a chuckle.

“It’s almost embarrassing that didn’t give it away right there.” You laughed breathlessly. 

“Since we’re, uh, being honest about stuff…” Remus continued, trailing off awkwardly as he shared a grimace with Sirius. “I’m also, well, I’m also a werewolf.” 

“Oh.” You breathed quietly. 

Sirius held his breath as he watched you consider this before you nodded your head decisively. 

“I’m muggleborn.” 

Sirius and Remus shared a quick look before Remus let out a disbelieving chuckle. “Is that- …what?”

“Baby, are you trading that information like we might think that’s a negative?” Sirius teased you lightly. 

“I suppose it depends on who you ask…” You whispered, and both boys softened. 

“Not us, dove.” Remus offered. “Good.” You smiled at him. “Then me too.”

“Is that really how you feel about it? About me?” Remus asked quietly. 

“No, it’s not how I feel about you.” You denied. “J'ai l'impression de tomber très amoureux de toi.” You admitted shyly, and Sirius couldn’t be held responsible for the mortifying cooing sound that resonated from the back of his throat. 

He grabbed your face roughly and started peppering you with kisses: “how”, a kiss, “did we”, a kiss, “manage to find”, another kiss, “the most brilliant and beautiful witch”, kiss kiss kiss, “in the whole world?” 

You were giggling and trying - not very hard, mind you - to pull away from Sirius’ ministrations when you stilled and let out a gasp.

“What?” Both boys paused.

“Supper!” You nearly shrieked as you went flying into the kitchen, muttering to yourself in French as you turned off the stove top and fussed with various pots and dishes. 

“I am so unbelievably in love with her.” Remus murmured, eyes glued to your form as you danced through the kitchen. 

Sirius scoffed as he leaned against his boyfriend with his arms crossed, feigning nonchalance. “I can’t believe you were so scared to tell her.”

Sirius didn’t need to look at Remus to know he was glaring at him; he could feel it.

But he also felt his heart grow three sizes when you turned to look at both of them with a beaming smile and a steaming dish in front of you, completely unphased that one of your boyfriends was a werewolf even though as a witch you knew exactly what that meant. And not only were you unphased, but you were still falling in love with them regardless.

Sirius had admittedly been very scared to tempt fate, because meeting you had been a complete fluke and he didn’t want to muck it up by scaring you off. Because really, how many times in one life did someone get the chance to meet a perfect angel?

If meeting Remus had been destiny, meeting you was prophetic; and who was Sirius to mess with the prophecy?

(translation: I feel like I’m very much falling in love with you).

[marauder-misprint]

Eek I’m the one that asked about requests, so excited you’re taking them!

My idea was fem!reader x whichever marauder you want (not Pete sorry not sorry) where the reader is flirty but not in a hitting on everyone and pickup lines type of way. It’s in a she’s very friendly, likes to give out compliments just cause she wanted to, and is just warm and open to people type of way.

Ngl im a sucker for some angst with a happy ending so if that somehow works with whatever idea you come up with that would be cool but no pressure!

I hope this sounds like something you’d wnjiy writing but again no pressure at all<3

I hope this has that kind of vibe you were going for! Thank you for being my first request - I'm very excited and very nervous for this. ♡

Sunshine Incarnate

Remus Lupin x fem!reader

1.8k words

cw: fluff, angst

“God, she’s such a fucking tease,” Sirius sighs, leaning back in a plush armchair in the library.

“Who is?” Remus asks, not looking up from his book.

“Her,” he answers, gesturing toward you. “Little Miss Sunshine herself.”

Remus’ gaze shoots up, first looking at Sirius and then at you. You were talking with some Ravenclaw boy, absorbed in the conversation and oblivious to the rest of the library.

“A tease?” Remus asks.

Sirius hums. “Whenever you talk to her, she gives you these eyes. Then she’ll give you some flirty comment and walk away. Fucking. Tease.”

“Don’t talk about her that way,” Remus growls, still not looking away from you.

“Remus, you’ve experienced what he’s talking about though, right?” Peter asks. “She sits next to you in Herbology.”

Remus has experienced the eyes that Sirius is describing. When you talked to someone, they had your entire attention. You were fully engaged. He’d also been on the receiving end of your compliments before as well; he replayed them in his head when he was feeling low. But Remus would be an idiot to ignore that you did this with everyone. 

“Oh my god, I love your hair like that!”

“That’s brilliant! You’re a genius.” 

“I haven’t read that book before. Is it any good?” “Yeah, It’s my favorite.” “Yeah? Tell me about it.”

It’s who you are. As Sirius had called you, you are Little Miss Sunshine. You brightened every room you entered and made everyone feel important. Remus didn’t think there was a single person in all of Hogwarts who didn’t like you. How could they? 

“Remus?” Peter repeats, tossing a crumpled piece of parchment at him.

“Huh? What?”

“Wormy asked you about Sunshine’s eyes and you zoned,” James says. He’s busy working on an essay that the rest of the group had already finished. 

“Of course. Yes. Although I think it’s called active listening,” Remus says, sounding more irritated than he intended. “Something you could work on,” he adds on in a grumble. 

“My ears work just fine, thank you very much,” Sirius says. 

Then his face lights up and he waves at you. You had briefly turned away from the Ravenclaw boy and Sirius’ wave caught your eye. You wave back, excuse yourself and make your way to the Gryffindors. 

“Hi!” you say cheerfully. “Remus, that sweater looks really soft.”

His face flushed at your words. He could barely mutter out a thanks. 

“What’re you working on?” you ask, standing next to Remus. You’re looking at the pages of the book he’s reading, hoping to see a title at the top of the pages but there’s nothing to go off of, not even a diagram to say if it was a Herbology or Charms book. 

“That damned Potions essay,” James answers. 

“Good thing you’re not too shabby in that class then,” you say with a smile. “Can’t be too difficult.”

James looks up from his essay to return your smile. “It’s not. Just annoying to do.”

“Annoying to do is my Divination dream journal!” you reply with a giggle. “Like I need a teacher knowing what happens in my subconscious.”

“I’d like to know what happens in your subconscious,” Sirius says, now leaning forward. 

You give him an eye roll. “Become a Divination tutor and maybe. Remus, did you do that Herbology worksheet yet?”

“Uh, yeah. Yeah, I did. Yesterday.” 

“Shoot, I was hoping we could work on it together. You’re so much better at Herbology than I am.”

“Oh, it’s not too difficult,” he says, briefly looking up from his book to give you a smile.

You’re already looking at him with those eyes and a smile. Butterflies take flight in his stomach. He has to look away quickly, despite not wanting to. 

“Okay,” you say, bouncing on your toes. “I’ll see you later.”

As you walk away, Peter hits Remus with a roll of parchment.

“Are you daft?” he whispers, unsure if you’re out of earshot yet. “She was flirting with you.”

He shakes his head. “No, she wasn’t.”

“She wanted to work on Herbology homework with you.”

“Because we share the class? And I’m smart?”

“You’re daft,” James confirms.

The rest of the afternoon and into the evening, Remus is replaying the conversation. Had you been flirting with him? Actually flirting or being your kind self? Even if you were flirting with him, you’d certainly stop as soon as you found out that he was a werewolf. Sunshine incarnate could not be with someone who turns with the moon. He was Moony for goodness sake. But she had complimented both his sweater and Herbology skills in one conversation with only James also receiving a compliment. How had he earned two compliments over Sirius? With all of your kindness and Sirius’ natural charisma, you two usually bantered like an entertaining yet sickening tennis match. 

“You know, the things I would do to her if she said the word,” Sirius says, bringing Remus out of his thoughts. 

“Still on about Sunshine, are you?” James asks.

“Still on about Evans?” Sirius retorts.

“Would it kill you to shut up and stay away from her?” Remus snaps.

Sirius and James shoot him a confused look. He had been mostly quiet since leaving the library, but it was Remus. He just did that sometimes. 

“Stay away from her?” Sirius repeats. “From Madam Sunshine herself? Why would I do that?”

“She’s the sweetest,” James adds with a smirk. 

“Yeah, I know,” Remus grumbles. “She doesn’t need you assholes to bring her down.”

“I’m not bringing her down,” James says defensively.

“Just leave her out of your… fantasies.”

“Why?” Sirius presses.

“Just, it’s… it’s you,” Remus says, gesturing wildly. 

“Yeah, and?” Sirius asks, leaning forward toward Remus with narrowing eyes. 

“You’re messy.” Remus pauses. “We’re messy.”

“So we’re all staying away from her?” Peter asks. 

“I, uh, I guess so.” 

Remus couldn’t tell his three closest friends to stay away from her because they were messy and not include himself, possibly the messiest of the group. But, god, he wanted to be close to you. He wanted to hold you and be held by you. He wanted to kiss your perfect smile that was ever present on your perfect lips. He wanted to be the reason your gorgeous eyes lit up. He wanted you to look for him in the room. He wanted you to be his sunshine. 

Sirius shares a knowing look with James and Peter that Remus misses. Though he had tried to be subtle, his friends know when Remus is down bad, and he is for you. 

---

In Remus’ presence, you’re no longer a topic of discussion. The boys successfully steer all conversations away from you. Remus doesn’t think anything of it, assuming they actually listened to him and are staying away from you and all your perfectness. 

That is, until you walk over and sit next to Remus at lunch. You set your books down gently and give the boys a smile.

“That’s our cue to leave. See you in Dark Arts, Moony,” Sirius says with a grin. James and Peter follow him away from the table, leaving you alone with him. 

“That was… weird,” Remus mumbles, watching them leave before turning his attention back to you. 

He tries to hide the confusion on his face, but you see it anyway.

“Did you not… did you not ask me to practice nonverbal spells with you?”

Remus stares at you blankly. “No?”

You pull out a piece of parchment and hand it to him.

“I got this at breakfast.”

It was a note, in Sirius’ handwriting no less, asking you to meet at lunch to practice spells. When he looks up from the note, you are biting your lip with a hopeful look on your face. 

“Even if it’s not from you, would you mind practicing? I’m rubbish at them and, well, you’re great at everything.” 

Remus feels his face heat at the compliment. 

“You’re not rubbish at them.”

“No, I really am! I try them all the time and they never work! I’ve tried to levitate notes to you in Transfiguration and the stupid notes never lift more than a centimeter off the desk!” you ramble.

“Notes… to me?” 

It’s your turn to blush. You had never successfully passed a note to him. The notes that never made it to him often had compliments on them; the most recent had been to ask him to Hogsmeade. But when you continuous failed to get them to him, you had taken that as a sign from the universe that it wasn’t meant to be, but you weren’t one to give up easily. Maybe you were misreading the signs and you needed to go to him for help. So when you received the note from fake Remus, you were over the moon. 

“Oh, yeah. Just little comments about lessons. Nothing too important,” you lie. 

“You were trying to give me notes…” Remus mutters, still in disbelief that you were writing notes to him in the first place, even if they were ‘little comments.’

“Yes?”

You’re not sure what gives you the boldness, but you dig through your bag again and pull out some of the notes. You’re not sure why you kept them, but you did. 

“Okay, little comments, yes. About the lessons, not really.”

You hold out one for him to take.

You mastered teacup to gerbil quickly. You’re amazing!

“That, uh, that should be the first one.”

His hands are shaking as he reads it over and over. 

“You kept them?”

You nod, a little unsure. He reaches out and takes the rest from your hands. You feel your blush grow as he reads each other. It’s only a slight comfort that his blush is also increasing with each note. 

He looks up at you with a curious expression that’s topped with hopeful eyes.

“You were going to ask me to Hogsmeade?”

You open your mouth to speak but words don’t come out. You nod.

“If the offer still stands, I’d, uh, I’d love you. I’d love to. Ahem. I’d love to go to Hogsmeade with you.”

You’re certain your face is as red as his. 

“This weekend then?”

“Yeah,” he breathes. 

You lean in and kiss his cheek, your own boldness surprising you yet again.

“We can, erm, work on nonverbals later. I’ll see you later, Remus.” 

He watches you leave the Great Hall in a hurry. His hand slowly comes up to touch the spot where you had kissed him. Maybe, just maybe, you had been flirting with him. 

---

“How did that go, Moony?”

“You are bastards. All of you.”

“How did it go?”

“She kissed me,” he says, still blushing furiously.

“I told you!” Sirius cheers. “I told you he was projecting.”

“Projecting?”

“Mate, you called us messy. I mean, yeah, we are, but it’s your tell.”

[piastappies]

📸 END UP HERE

synopsis. when a guy keeps harassing his best mate’s cousin, there’s not a single thought on his mind that would make theo feel bad about wanting to beat the shit out of him.

theo nott x lestrange!reader. PLEASE. request more things for theo or mattheo. i’m literally in need.

theo couldn’t remember the exact moment, when his mind filled the urge to hit cormac mclaggen as hard as possible. on second thought, he definitely could.

theo’s been watching you ever since the party started. you were standing in the corner of the room, trying to get as little attention as possible — you wouldn’t even been there if amelia didn’t beg you to be her emotional support, so considering you were the best roommate (and friend) she could imagine, you said yes. maybe it was just the start of mistakes you were supposed to make that night, or so you thought.

you had a tight, dark red dress on you that hugged all your curves in the places it should. your make up just made you stand out from all the girls there, that’s what theo thought when he saw you. of course, you didn’t want to be there, but you couldn’t just pass on an occasion to dress up a bit, since you were going anyway. maybe your clothing choice was another of those mistakes.

nott’s attention was fully on you — a girl tried to hit him up? too bad, because she wasn’t even half as pretty as you were, and he knew you didn’t even try. it became obvious to all his friends that you were… quite a distraction. he would engage in a conversation, trying hard to have his focus on his friends, but then you would do something, and he felt obligated to look at you, but you were clearly oblivious to his gaze averting and coming back every once in a while.

“can you stop eye-fucking my cousin?” draco groaned, leaning on the wall behind them, bringing a cup to his lips, taking a small sip of alcohol. “it’s disgusting.” he added.

draco malfoy was the only reason that kept theodore from getting his hands on you, at least that’s what he would always tell people he bluntly ignored, when you walked into the room he was in. just because draco treated you like a sister, people thought nott would get a hold of his hormones.

but how could he, when you always looked so gorgeous?

“i’m not eye-fucking her, i’m a cultured man.” he said, getting lots of mocking laughs from mattheo and lorenzo (“you? a cultured man? never heard that much bullshit in my life.”). “i’m admir— ouch, c’mon, malfoy.” his fingers massaged the place that the blonde boy punched.

it all happened later that night, when nott was already a little lightheaded from a blunt he was smoking with mattheo. even if he didn’t want to concentrate on you, it was pointless, so he just watched you, shamelessly, being teased for it by his friend at the same time.

he noticed that cormac fucking mclaggen cornered you, and you had no possible chance to run away from him, your eyes scanning the room, looking for help until your gaze landed on theodore’s face, and he knew immediately. you watched him get up from the couchy, mumbling something to riddle before he made his way towards the corner you stood in.

he didn’t even say a thing, the discomfort in your eyes was enough to assume everything. he tapped the gryffindor’s shoulder, quickly throwing his fist forward, and you could’ve swore to god that you had heard bones crushing. theo just grinned mischievously as cormac looked at him a confussed expression, brushing his lip with his thumb.

but nott didn’t stop himself there, starting a fight. while mclaggen’s friends tried to pull the poor gryffindor away from theo, mattheo and enzo just stood behind him, with wide, prideful grins on their faces, shouting once in a while to encourage theo to “crush his skull”. if it wasn’t for blaise, who finally appeared (with amelia right beside him), the fight would go for probably even longer until one of the teachers didn’t interfere.

“stay the fuck away from her, mclaggen.” dark-haired spat at his opponent, the adrenaline running through his veins, so the bruises didn’t hurt at all. not until he was sat by the edge of the bathtub by you, when he realized that his face was throbbing with pain.

“theo.” you whispered, stading right between his legs, trying so hard to focus on patching him up more than the burning sensation of his hand on her hip. hearing the way you said his name almost made him groan — you were so perfect in his eyes that if he manned up, his hands would be everywhere, not just your hip. “could you please lift your head for me?”

there was something so incredibly intimate about that moment. he just fought for you, and instead of getting mad, you were right next to him, cleaning his face and hands off the blood, speaking so softly and touching him with such a gentle manner that theodore thought he died and woke up in heaven.

“i thought you said you wouldn’t be fighting random guys anymore.” you began, brushing his hair back, so you could press the wet towel to his forehead. “was he making you uncomfortable?” he asked, his tone a little raspy.

“well, yeah but–”

“then it wasn’t random.” theo shrugged, and if you two were in different circumstances now, you wouldn’t be able to stop yourself from crashing your lips into his. “he should’ve known that you’re my girl.” he mumbled as his hand slipped down on your thigh, his fingers digging into your soft flesh.

“you looked so good tonight.” he muttered after a minute of silence as you kept trying to concentrate on helping him first. a sigh left his lips as he pulled you a little closer. “i want to rip that dress off you, jesus. what are you doing to me?”

it took him one more swift pull to get you to straddle him. his fingers traced soft circles on your outer thighs as you were silently finishing up your job. your entire body was burning. unfortunately, your face was revealing the effect he had on you, and you hated it, because theo always made it his mission to make you blush as hard as possible.

the thing between you two was… indescribable. you weren’t a couple, but you acted like one, you weren’t friends with benefits, but you weren’t just friends. there were feelings involved and neither of you denied. there were mutual attraction, desire, urgency and neither of you could see themselves with someone else. if soulmates existed, then theodore faustus nott was yours and no one else’s.

“alright.” now, it’s your turn to sigh. you put the towel aside, cupping his cheeks, scanning his face for more bruises to patch up. when you were sure that you treated every single one, you let yourself relax, getting a soft chuckle from theodore. “you worried me, theo.”

he mumbled something under his breath, but you couldn’t pinpoint what it was, since he found his face nuzzling in your neck, leaving small kisses in the spots that he knew would make you shiver. he inhaled the sweet scent of your shampoo and perfume. oh, and did it drive him crazy.

he picked you up, your legs wrapped around his hips as he walked the two of you to his bed, merlin help how weak he felt, but carrying you around was something he did every single time you were at his dorm. theo put you down, letting you get comfortable in his sheets (he bought them, just because you said it looked pretty — so now he had floral themed sheets). on the other hand, he was searching for some clothes you always wear, so you wouldn’t suffer in a tight dress.

maybe he never directly said he loved you, but his actions and behaviour towards you was enough to tell you he did.

you’ve changed into clothes he gave you, allowing your… situationship to help you unzip your bra, and you fell down on his bed. it took you a brief moment to realise that you were still in your goddamn makeup. a long sigh escaped from between your lips. theo’s face lit up with confusion, although he understood why you were lazily getting up from his bed.

“you don’t have to go back.” he smirked, looking you up and down, admiring how gorgeous you looked in his shirt, pictures of him ripping it off you started playing in his head. god, the things he’d like to do to you right now. “i hated how you complained about your makeup stuff. bottom drawer is all yours. everything you need.”

and to be honest, you almost cried upon seeing what he prepared for you. any possible kinds of makeup remover (creams, lotions, gels), tissues, pads and tampons, cotton balls, all those products that he noticed you used for your hair and skin-care essentials, he even stocked your favourite shampoo that you told him wasn’t produced anymore. there were even the same exact products you used to put on your makeup, perfect matched foundation shade, all kinds of eyeshadow palettes you liked, lipsticks, chapsticks, lipglosses, even the glitter and gems you used for yule ball once.

“theodore faustus nott, you are so incredibly pussy whipped, i’m shocked it’s possible.” your laughs filled his chamber, when you got back from the bathroom. “at the same time, it’s so attractive that you bought all of that for me.”

“shut up, lestrange.” he rolled his eyes, his hand wrapping around your leg, pulling you onto him. “i would kill for you if you asked.” he mumbled against your skin, leaving a trail of kisses from your jawline down to collarbone.

[sundrop-writes]

The Restricted Section

Hermione Granger x Fem!Gryffindor!Reader x Harry Potter

Summary:

Harry wishes that Hermione would just relax. Just because he doesn't know the exact source of a hand-written spell in an old textbook doesn't mean that it's completely evil.

Intent to prove her wrong, he dawns his Invisibility Cloak and sneaks off to the Restricted Section of the library, looking for a more solid source of that spell - and he completely forgets everything that he set out to do when he finds Hermione along the way, doing something (or rather, someone) in a secluded corner of the library that is definitely not studying. (Something that he'll never be able to get out of his mind ever again.)

Hermione Granger x Fem!Gryffindor!Reader x Harry Potter. Accidental Voyeurism upon an Established Relationship. Smut/PWP. Set during Half-Blood Prince.

Word Count: 4,400

Harry Potter Masterlist | AO3 Link

Full list of warnings and author's notes below the cut.

Warnings: this fic is primarily smut focused; there is some very vague plot - Harry and Hermione have an argument because Hermione doesn't like the Half-Blood Prince's book and wants Harry to get rid of it (and they are still not on good terms when the smutty stuff comes up); passing mention of a hex that gives you boils that never heal; the primary pairing in this fic is between Hermione and the reader, and Harry spies on them having sex using his Invisibility Cloak - that does mean that this fic has dubious consent and dubious morality, because Harry never asks for their permission to watch and never reveals himself to them, and during the course of this fic they also don't find out that he's there (if this is the kind of thing that makes you uncomfortable, then I would recommend moving on to one of my other fics); the reader has a vagina and uses she/her pronouns; the reader's looks - including race, hair colour, skin tone, etc. are not described in anyway; there is use of Y/N in this fic; the reader is a Gryffindor in this fic (I wanted her to be closer with Hermione, sharing a dorm with her, and be closer to the trio in general); Harry has had a crush on the reader for a while before this, but this is the first time he views Hermione sexually past his platonic friendship feelings for her; accidental voyeurism - Harry does not intend to spy on the girls, but once he discovers them, he doesn't stop watching; semi-public sex - Hermione and the reader are fucking in the library, but they are fucking in a much more secluded part of the library where Hermione knows that someone is less likely to discover them; there is some sub/dom dynamics - Hermione and the reader having a pre-existing sub/dom relationship where Hermione is very dominant and the reader is submissive, and Harry is understanding those dynamics as he observes them; Hermione calls the reader: little girl (not as indication of her size, but as a form of degradation and condescension), little bitch, little whore, slutty, brat, darling,; Hermione demands to be called 'Mistress'; Harry is a switch - he imagines himself as both dominant and submissive in his fantasies; (Harry as a 'sir' kink in his fantasies); mentions of creampie kink (one of Harry's fantasies); Hermione is very mean and condescending toward the reader; brat taming/punishment and reward - the reader has 'misbehaved' and Hermione seeks to correct it; degradation kink (towards the reader); Hermione fingers the reader; Hermione uses the reader's tie like a leash; lots of dirty talk (from Hermione); Harry considers masturbating but does not (because he fears getting caught) (and there is a mention of him masturbating to thoughts of what happened in a more private space afterwards); pussy spanking/clit spanking (from Hermione towards reader) and ass spanking (towards reader - just once) (no severe pain kink); orgasm denial (towards the reader); I believe that's it.

A/N: This was such a random idea that zapped into my head that demanded to be written. People were asking for Hermione x Fem!Reader smut and it was something I really wanted to do, but I only really felt inspired to do it when it occurred to me to write Hermione through Harry's eyes. To talk about her going from this very non-sexual being to someone so sexually powerful in his eyes - it was something really fun. And I am so glad I actually managed to squeeze this one in and finish it before the poll for the other fic finished up. I feel like this is such a fun, Harry Potter based idea that uses themes and elements unique to the series. And it's wonderful, filthy horny smut. So I hope that you guys enjoy!!

...

Harry really didn’t understand Hermione sometimes. 

She was an amazing friend, someone that he wouldn’t trade for the world - someone so wonderfully loyal, smart, and fun to be around during the times when she let herself actually relax and untense. But during the times when she had that intensely large stick up her arse, she could be the biggest pain in the world. Sometimes, it was like she stayed up late in her dormitory, just thinking of ways to drive Harry and Ron utterly mad. 

Yes, Harry knew that his particular fascination with the Half-Blood Prince’s book was not exactly… normal. But Hermione’s attachment to a lot of her books was never normal either. And just because the book was old didn’t mean that it was bad. Just because Harry was fascinated by it didn’t mean that there would be negative consequences. 

There was no reason for her to go off on a long tangent about ‘dark magic’ and ‘the Latin origins of spells’ when he had asked her about a hand-written spell that was in the book. Something that spiralled into a huge argument between the two of them when he refused to hand over the Prince’s book once she had asked him where he had gotten the spell. To her, it was something that sounded very dangerous, and she complained that therefore, the whole book was dangerous. He complained that she had a knot in her knickers because he had just been asking if she knew what the spell was or not, if she had heard of it before - it’s not like he had any intentions of actually using it. 

And then Hermione had warned him that he should simply throw the book away and he told her that she was just jealous that he was actually getting better grades than her in a class for once, and the night ended with her huffing off to bed and stomping up the stairs - and the two of them hadn’t spoken in over a day because of it. Ron was nagging both of them to make-up - but Harry was chuffed, honestly. For once, Ron knew what it felt like to be between two feuding friends, trying to mend the fences. 

Harry wasn’t going to apologise. 

Hermione wasn’t the queen of everything. She couldn’t just demand things from him and expect him to follow suit. He had his own brain, despite what she thought, and he could make his own judgements. Harry had no plans to use the spell if Hermione thought it was dangerous, and he had just been asking about it out of curiosity. But he was more peeved that it led to her demanding that he throw the book away or destroy it, like she held some authority over him, like she was his damn mother or something. 

This left Harry stewing in his annoyance as he made his way to the Restricted Section of the library the next night. He was still curious if the spell had any other known origins - another spell book, some kind of book about dark magic. Hell, he would revert to a Latin textbook if he was desperate, just to get a leg-up without directly asking Hermione. But he was headed to the Restricted Section first - because as much as she was annoying, Hermione usually was right. 

He was feeling confident and perhaps a bit cocky to find the source of the spell and wield some more knowledge over her that she didn’t have. For once. 

Harry had dawned his Invisibility Cloak for this task, of course. It wasn’t past curfew yet, but the library was about ten minutes from closing, and he knew that it would be easier to sneak in before Madame Pince locked up and stay there well after dark, taking his time in order to find what he needed. And any trip to the Restricted Section without a note from a professor giving permission required such a disguise. 

The library was practically deserted due to the late hour - most students having wandered off to bed like good rule followers. Harry wasn’t surprised when he heard a particular, familiar voice coming from an isolated area of small desks study carols back between a few towering book cases. Of course, she would think that this would be the perfect place to get her work done, undisturbed. He couldn’t hold back from rolling his eyes when he heard that voice taking on her usual scolding, bossy tone. 

“I am not at all pleased with you, you know that?” 

It was Hermione. 

Harry knew for a fact that Ron was in a corner of the Gryffindor common room, his face unpleasantly glued to Lavender’s once again, so he wasn’t the one in the path of Hermione’s wrath this time. Harry had to wonder who exactly had come on the other end of her up-tight, nosy fortitude. 

He had seen Hermione usher you off to the library after class earlier that afternoon, saying something about the mark on your last Transfiguration essay being ‘far below your usual standard’, and talking about how you ‘needed to follow her study schedule more closely’ - and Harry had felt sorry for you at the time, if anything. The fact that you would have Hermione hovering over your shoulder, bothering you all afternoon, marking all your work and making you redo it to her incredibly high standards. 

Sometimes, he felt sorry for the fact that you had to share a dorm with her. That you couldn’t escape Hermione even for a peaceful night of slumber. 

But surely the two of you hadn’t spent this long in the library together. Even you wouldn’t take three or four hours to do your homework up to Hermione’s standards. She would have freed you by now - and with any luck, you would be off somewhere, snogging some lucky bloke - (Harry couldn’t let that particular train of jealous thought get to him right now). 

“Little girl, am I going to have to get mean with you?” 

Hermione’s voice came again, just as bitter as usual, and then it clicked with Harry. 

No, it wasn’t you, perhaps Hermione was taking out her anger on a couple of First Years for not doing their homework, getting on the wrong end of Hermione’s ill-guided Prefect power that she wielded like a presidency. Harry held back a scoff of laughter, and he couldn’t help the urge to move toward the sound of her voice, eager to see what exactly was going on. 

“Stop being such a whiny little bitch - you asked for this. Now shut up and take it like a good little whore.” 

Those words - those words in Hermione’s voice - immediately smacked Harry in the face harder than any stunning curse ever could have. He craned his neck around the bookcase in front of him so hard to see what was happening that he harshly smacked one of his shoulders, nearly giving himself away with the noise and having to strangle down his cry of pain in order not to be caught. 

However, after a moment, he came around the corner completely and rested against the bookcase comfortably as his eyes took in the utterly unbelievable sight at the other end of the aisle. 

Holy fuck. 

Holy… fuck. 

It was you. 

You and Hermione. Hermione and you. 

You and Hermione looking like some sort of unbelievable pornographic dream. 

Hermione had you pressed up against a desk, your legs spread wide for her with your arse just balanced on the edge of the table while she stood between them - it took Harry’s very stunned brain a moment to process it, but he realised that her arm working furiously between your thighs like that, pistoning back and forth while you spread your legs wider and leaned into the touch could only mean one thing. 

She was finger-fucking your pussy. 

Harry had no clue how he hadn’t picked up on the other sounds previously, especially not in the dead quiet of the library. But it was blatantly fucking clear to his ears now. The sound of your wetness sliding against her fingers, so beautifully sloppy - he could only imagine how slick you were, how pretty your cunt looked around her fingers, which were usually only meant for gripping quills or turning the pages in her next book. Along with your repressed moans, barely caught in your chest where you were biting your lip raw, clearly trying your best to stay quiet - the sounds coming out, as Hermione had described them: whines, as though you were a needy bitch in heat. 

Harry was in utter shock. 

Never, in a thousand years, would ever have imagined Hermione Granger looking at you with crazed heat in her eyes, her stern brow and disappointed frown somehow so perfectly fitting for the situation. Scolding you in her bossy voice while she held on tight to your Gryffindor tie like a leash, keeping your posture tight and straight as she finger-fucked you in the most rough, harsh way that Harry could have ever pictured. 

Hermione - uptight, bookish, rule-bound Hermione - fucking you in the library where anybody could have caught the two of you. It seemed so wildly unimaginable, and yet - when more scolding words came out of her lips in that bossy tone, it seemed… so terribly fitting for her. 

“You’ve been such a naughty girl, haven’t you?” Hermione breathed hotly, giving another harsh tug on your tie that made you whine deeply in the back of your throat. 

Harry swore the sound of her fingers jabbing between your legs became even wetter, sloppier sounding. So you liked being called naughty. 

“Yes, I have-” You whined out, and Hermione tugged the tie again, cutting off anything further that you had to say with a harsh jolt. 

Harry’s cock snapped to attention at an alarmingly fast rate, the blood rushing into his prick so quickly that it almost made him dizzy. The moral contention of watching two of his good friends go at it didn’t really cross his mind at all (perhaps his morality was going a bit too grey, using an old marked up book to ‘cheat’ in his classes these days). But he knew that wanking would be a bad idea simply based on the fact that he would have a difficult time staying quiet. So he reached down and squeezed the bulge in his trousers, gaining little relief from this as he looked on. He likely wouldn’t have been able to pull his eyes away if Voldemort himself showed up and demanded it. 

“Such a naughty little bitch - you can’t even go one afternoon without having your slutty cunt filled, can you?” Hermione demanded, her words seemingly growing filthier by the second. 

“I need it.” You moaned, arching into her further, as though you were possessed. 

Harry would have wondered if she had been replaced by someone else, or bewitched - but you seemed to love it, loved everything she was saying. She seemed to be playing into a knowledge of your kinks, things that she knew would make you weaker and more lustful in her hands. Which was so Hermione that it was painful. Studying for something, keeping a backlog of useful knowledge. 

Harry just never would have guessed that she would have used her big brain for this. 

What made matters even more dizzying and shocking - this was Hermione and you. A pair he never would have thought up that also somehow made so much sense. Now, every single time the two of you snuck off giggling and Harry thought that it was just something girlish that he didn’t understand - he had to wonder what the two of you had been doing. 

The fact that Hermione had been Viktor Krum’s date to the Yule Ball and you had been Harry’s, but you and Hermione had been glued to each other all night made a lot more sense. Every single time the two of you walked to class together holding hands, every single time you showed up to the Gryffindor table with some kind of glaring love mark on your neck and Ginny or someone else asked you about it and Hermione had laughed when you named off a different boy from a different house - it all made strange sense in Harry’s eyes. 

This was you - one of the hottest, most sought-after girls at Hogwarts. The star of every single one of Harry’s wanking fantasies since you had given him a pity kiss under some mistletoe after a DA meeting. (He had a feeling that Hermione would be sneaking into those fantasies too, now, as much as he had tried to keep her out on the grounds that it would be rude to wank to his best friend). You, someone who was so gorgeous and so desirable and somehow never seemed to have a long-term boyfriend, as often as guys asked you on dates, and as often as you claimed to like certain boys and even flirted with them. 

Apparently Hermione had been keeping you on a leash this whole time. A tight leash - just like the way she was holding your tie, keeping you close, keeping you waiting with baited breath for her next move. 

“Mione-” You breathed out in return, a slight begging in your voice that had Harry light-headed in seconds. 

This was better than any fantasy he could have dreamt up. 

“Ah-ah. Hush, little girl.” Hermione fired back, that bossy condescending she always used somehow sounding all the more perfect in this context. “You’ve been such a proper brat all day, and you’re going to take what I give you, understand?” 

You nodded your head (as much as you could with the hold she had on you) and made a noise of affirmation. But Hermione gave another sharp tug on your tie, clearly displeased with this. 

“Come on, use your words now. Be a good girl.” She ordered sharply, the only thing giving away what must have been her own arousal being a slight hint of breath on her voice. Otherwise, she was entirely proper - not a single wrinkle in her impeccable uniform, her face entirely straight and firm as she stared you down with sharp eyes. 

“Yes, Mione-” 

“No, darling. Wrong again.” 

Hermione hauled her hand back, creating another loud wet sound as she hauled her fingers out of your pussy entirely. Harry harshly craned his neck again, and it was only then that it truly occurred to him, between his dizzy head, his cement legs and his hard cock painful against his pelvis, protesting wildly against his zipper, that he could actually move closer to get a better look. With his Cloak guarding him, he would not be seen. 

He tried his best not to rush, not to make too much noise especially as he got closer, and he almost scolded himself when he nearly missed out on it - the wet smack as Hermione brought her hand down between your thighs. If he hadn’t seen it with his own eyes, he never would have guessed that she had so boldly laid two rapid spanks right across your swollen, needy clit. Your skirt flipped up out of the way, no panties in sight, and giving her all the room in the world to do so. 

You harshly bit down on your own lip again, worrying the skin to the point where it was swollen and looked like it might even bruise, dampening down harsh cries from deep within your chest. Before Harry could worry that the tears pooling in your eyes had meant that Hermione had truly hurt you, you spread your legs wider and canted your hips more toward her, offering your body up for more. 

And then, you opened your lips again, seemingly to obey whatever implicit command she had given you with the spanks. 

“Yes, Mistress.” You choked out, putting stress on the title, as if correcting your earlier self. “Yes, I understand.” 

“Good girl.” Hermione replied, more breath this time as she used your tie to pull you into a heated kiss, and then shoved three firm fingers back into your waiting, leaking cunt. 

Harry’s head was spinning. 

He had never seen anything more beautiful and erotic in his life (not even when Fred and George had shown him and Ron those Wonder Witch magazines - no, this was much hotter and more perfect because it was so real). 

His mind was spinning with a unique kind of jealousy, something that told him that he was sure if he wanted to steal you away from Hermione because he thought he could - because he now knew all of your sexual preferences and he would use that information to play you, to do everything she was doing to you and more. He would make you the perfect horny little puppet on his painful, throbbing cock (he gave himself another squeeze through his trousers, suppressing a moan of his own). He would have you calling him ‘Sir’ and begging for his cock in no time, because you needed it - you needed to have your holes filled and you would fucking love it. 

Or if he wanted Hermione playing him like this - tugging on his hair, guiding him around by his tie like he was nothing more than a wretched dog, needing to be tamed. Wanted her using that bossy voice of hers to give him completely different kinds of orders - forcing him onto his knees to eat her cunt until she was satisfied, and - knowing her - she never would be. 

Harry’s mind flashed with an image of him on his knees before you, his head so perfectly framed by your plush thighs, with Hermione behind him, barking orders in his ear, a tight grip on his hair as she shoved him tighter into your perfect, messy, wet pussy. He decided that was it - that was exactly what he wanted. That would be the vision that haunted his dreams from now on. 

It was something that had him leaking enough precum to stain through to the outside of his pants, especially by the time your voice warbled out brokenly against Hermione’s chin, your thighs starting to shake, and Harry was sure that he would get the treat of seeing you cum on her fingers. 

He was sorely disappointed by what happened next. 

Hermione pulled back from you completely, creating another deadly wet sound as she pulled her fingers from your cunt once again - something that was almost drowned out by the pitched, disappointed whine that you let out. 

“Mione-!” You complained sharply, the nickname almost coming out as a sob from the back of your throat. 

You sat frozen on the edge of the desk, your legs spread wide as you stared Hermione down with glassy, disappointed eyes while she stepped back and grabbed a handkerchief from her bag that was sitting on a table opposite and used it to wipe off her glistening fingers. 

Harry rushed to get a better look at your cunt before you closed your legs, and Merlin - it was magnificent. Swollen and puffed from Hermione’s efforts, coated in your wetness, your clit stuck out from the hood and standing at attention, so damn needy, begging to be touched, your hole slightly gaped from where Hermione’s fingers had been. 

(Harry couldn’t help but to imagine how stretched you would be left by the thickness of his cock, how good you would look leaking with his cum…) 

“What did you expect?” Hermione said sharply, the edge of a sarcastic laugh on her voice. She was firm, not giving in to the pout that you were giving her. 

“You’ve been bratting up all day - I could have excused you flirting with Malfoy all through potions class-” She continued. 

Harry had noticed that too. He had simply thought that Malfoy would be your next conquest, not a simple flirtation to get on Hermione’s nerves. 

“If not for the fact that you didn’t finish any of your homework and you then decided to distract me from doing mine all afternoon.” 

Of course. Hermione doling out sexual punishments for not doing homework. 

Some things are just nature. 

Though, Harry knew, if there was one thing that would motivate him to do his essays - it would be the idea of getting to cum. 

“Of course you don’t get to cum, you stupid whore.” Hermione said these words how she said many things - as a final, finite declaration that was law. 

Hearing her speak such filthy words in such an authoritative (and nearly emotionless) voice almost caused Harry to cum in his pants on the spot. Almost. 

You let out a sigh of defeat and finally closed your legs, hopping off the desk and pulling down your skirt. Obviously, you hadn’t been wearing panties at all that day (which was another thought that would haunt Harry’s wet dreams) because you made no move to find a pair and put them back on. Instead, you simply turned around and gathered some of your books that were farther back on the desk. 

“How long?” You asked Hermione tentatively, glancing over your shoulder at her. 

Perhaps meaning - how long would she be angry with you? How long until she would finally allow you to cum? 

Harry’s stomach lurched - he imagined himself finding you in the hallway and pinning you against the wall, flipping up your skirt and finding your still wet, bare cunt, teasing you with his fingers and promising to give you everything that you needed as long as you surrendered yourself to him. He would let you cum - he would make you cum so many times that you would cry and beg for him to stop. And he would leave you tired, satisfied and gaped with his cum dripping from all your pretty holes. 

Perhaps it would be rude and underhanded to go after you simply based on a void that Hermione had left in you - but Harry was still feeling a bit of a petty sting from their argument the night before. 

Hermione stepped toward you again - careful, calculated, like a predator observing its prey. She put her hands on either side of your waist, and leaned forward to whisper something in your ear that Harry barely caught. 

“For as long as I want, naughty girl.” She told you. “You’ll take what you get, and you’ll like it, you understand me?” 

“Yes, Mistress.” You sighed loyally in return. Though your face was knit with a unique displeasure - clearly, you were still aching to cum. 

“And if I think for a moment that you have been touching your little whore cunt without my permission, I will spank you until every single person in Hogwarts hears you scream my name - understood?” 

She topped this off with a sharp spank across your ass, using her free hand to hold the fabric of your skirt out of the way to make sure it was nothing but free, burning, skin on skin. You sucked in a sharp breath, and began nodding furiously. 

“Yes, Mistress.” 

“Good.” Hermione told you. “Now, off to bed.” 

You began to walk off, but you hesitantly looked back over your shoulder, as if waiting for her to follow. 

“I’ll be along in a few minutes. I have to sort out some more books for tomorrow. Since I now have so much to catch up on.” She added the last part with a bit of snark, and you rolled your eyes, turning around and walking. 

Unfortunately, you abruptly headed in Harry’s direction and his stomach tightly clenched - he moved to press himself tightly into the bookcase, praying that you wouldn’t bump into him. 

Perhaps you felt him move, or you simply felt something… off, but you paused for a moment, and stared harshly at the space where Harry was standing. His heart began to beat hard inside of his throat, and he wondered how fast he would be able to run with his cock so uncomfortably stiff inside of his pants. You kept staring, as though you were expecting something to materialise out of thin air. 

“Y/N, go.” Hermione snapped. “Go on, it’s almost curfew.” 

“Yes, Miss Prefect, I’m going.” You sighed sarcastically in return, and walked off. 

Harry had a hard time not loudly gulping in air - not realising how harshly he had been holding his breath. 

He stayed there for a few more minutes and continued to watch Hermione. 

Jarringly, she was still so much of the usual Hermione. She was still absolutely someone that he knew so well, despite the secret sex persona that she had been hiding. Still biting at the skin around her nails as she concentrated on a thought, still fussing over which books to take, and still leaving the library with more of an armful than she could comfortably carry. Still somehow forgetting that she could just use magic to lug all the books to the Gryffindor common room instead of tiring out her arms - and Harry only fitfully realised now that this was only half her arm workout, and fucking your cunt raw must have been the other half. 

The whole time he stood there, Harry had considered revealing himself to her. 

He thought about begging to be let in on what the two of you had, even if he had to do something horrible to earn it first, to be worthy in her eyes - something like licking her shoes or wanking in front of her just to be ‘even’. But he knew that she would see the spying (even if unintentional) as a violation of trust, as something too creepy to be redeemed. She would probably hex him to hell and back, make him grow boils that would break open and bleed and never properly heal for the rest of his life - just for thinking about spying on her like that. 

So Harry knew that he had to keep this whole thing a secret, keep it close to his chest. He could never, ever speak about it to anyone. 

Harry forgot all about the book he had wanted. And, instead of going back to the Gryffindor common room behind Hermione, he took his aching cock to the Prefect’s Bathroom in an attempt to clear his mind. After making himself cum not once, but three different times, he finally settled into the hot water for a nice, long soak. He thought about it, and he realised that he was properly fucked - because he would never be able to look at you or Hermione in the same way again.

...

A/N: This is a oneshot, and at this current time, there is not going to be a continuation or a 'Part 2'. I might be open to writing a second part to this, but I don't have any current plans to do so and right now, it is not on my schedule. For now, if you are going to leave a comment on this fic, please leave a comment about the body of work that has been written instead of asking for more. If you want to see more Harry Potter fics that I have written, definitely check out my Harry Potter masterlist.

[crescenthistory]

e.9 w/ regulus pls, i'm on my knees 😭

this is technically a steamy prompt, but gosh this grew real sugary sweet really fast lmao. hope you enjoy the drabble, love<3

Prompt: E.9 "Use your words, sweetheart"

Words: 1.3k

Warnings: implied smut (mdni), not proofread, loads of cursing, talks of sex, background dorlene and rosekiller, established relationship, slight implied d/s dynamic where reader is d, regulus is a Quidditch Player™ but also easy to fluster, marlene is not a quidditch player in this (blasphemy, i know), gn!reader

Note: i could make a part 2 with actual smut, but this is what came to me rn

Perhaps your favourite part of your boyfriend is how multifaceted he is.

Because when you first met him, in all his moody brooding, repressed emotions, dry sarcasm and school-orientation, you never could have imagined how fervent Regulus Black could get about quidditch. The same Regulus who rolled his eyes painfully hard at his brother and friends's jock habits, as he referred to them as, the same Regulus who polished his Head Boy pin multiple times a day. Somehow, it was the same Regulus you saw run into a slam-hug with Barty on the field once they landed, with wild eyes and tousled hair after catching the snitch that just barely secured Slytherin’s victory against Gryffindor.

“Bloody fucking yes!” You could hear the boys’ exclamations clutter against each other in the air as they hollered their celebrations. 

A wide grin was glued onto your lips as you cheered and clapped with the crowds surrounding you in the stands. Marlene’s voice was bursting your eardrums as she cheered specifically only for Dorcas while grumbling over Gryffindor’s defeat – a complicated day for the blonde.

On the field, Regulus turned from his friends to scour through the stands before his eyes found yours and somehow he smiled wider. Your heart soared every time you saw his carefully crafted mask slip to reveal true enjoyment. His smile grew cheeky as he blew you a kiss with a flourish you knew he would never let fly so publicly had it not been for the adrenaline coursing through his veins.

“Breaking from Slytherin’s passionate celebrations, Regulus Black is taking the opportunity to show his wonderful partner some love.” Pandora’s soft voice booms through the amplification spell as she wraps up her commentary for the game. You grow bashful in your cheering, especially when Marlene elbows you with her wolfish grin, but you don’t cease your clapping – and you don’t break eye contact with Regulus as he walks backwards towards the locker rooms, only tearing away when he has to.

The team are some of the last people to enter the Slytherin common room for the rager that always follows matches with Gryffindor. This time, it was put together by a few fifth years who seemed to consider them their personal heroes – you had overseen some of the decorations just to ensure there were no pictures of Evan with hearts drawn around them, lest Barty get murderous in his partying. 

They were a sight as they walked in with their wet hair from showering and still that crackling atmosphere of sheer joy and perhaps a twinge of earned arrogance.

Dorcas is the one who announces their entrance. “We won, bitches!”

The room erupts into cheers as Marlene runs to lift her girl up, twirling her around as they giggle through kisses. You would have smiled at them in admiration for longer, had your own attention not been reserved for a certain set of black curls.

Regulus is at the very back of the group, just behind Evan who had Barty all but draped over his shoulders, a small smile seemingly etched onto his lips. You were torn between petrifying his face so it could never move from that beautiful expression, and hiding it from the world with an array of kisses. You had a feeling he was partial towards the latter. 

“Nice of you to finally show up at your own party, love,” you say cheekily, as he greets you with a murmured amour before pulling you into his arms for a tight hug.

He smells like his soap and cologne, having cleaned himself up as attentively as he always did. Maybe someday you could convince him to sit in the sweat for a bit, reeling in the victory.

“The hero who caught the snitch.” Your voice is low and teasing, only really intended for Regulus as your arms around his neck.

Barty is never one to miss something though, head picking up from his huddle with a maniacal grin. “Hells yeah,” he yells, cutting through the lively chatter of the room. “Reggie, our hero!”

Everyone erupts into cheers, hoots and whistles – definitely not for the last time of the evening – as Regulus bashfully hides his face in your neck, still not broken away from your embrace. You giggle into his ear, clearly pleased with the teasing attention he receives, to which he pinches your side. When you yelp and swat at him, he comes out of his hiding with a smile that he finally presses to yours.

His kiss receives some more hollers, but they are nothing but murmurs to you as his soft lips mould to your own. You deepen the kiss, trying to get impossibly closer as your blood warms. You’re sure he can feel it emanate through your clothes pressed to his or your palms in his hair.

“Hi,” he whispers when you pull back, foreheads pressed against each other.

“Hi there, seeker. Ready to go celebrate your acts of valour?”

His eyes remain trained on your lips as you speak, which only makes your smile more teasing. He doesn’t answer you right away, holding you close by the small of your back as the party picks up around you. 

“Or did you have something else in mind, player?” You cock an eyebrow at him.

He realises you have read him like the books you bond over, and gives you a few rapid pecks to make up for it. “You know me too well,” he laughs.

“I think I know you the perfect amount.”

“Then you know the only one I want to celebrate with right now is you.” Regulus’s eyes are a beautiful mix of dark and soft as he stare at you, adrenaline seemingly ebbing out of him as he just melts into you and his prescribed lovesickness.

“Silly boy,” you whisper against his lips before giving him a slow, open-mouthed kiss where you tug his bottom lips between your own. “You already have me.”

“You know what I mean,” he all but whines back between kisses as you move to his upper lip. 

“Hm, maybe.” He recognises the glint in your eyes as you pull back to look at him. “Use your words, sweetheart.”

Almost all softness seep from his face as it takes on a hungry quality that his reserved for only when you use that tone.

“Minx,” is all he whispers before his hands slide to find yours, squeezing them as he begins to pull you through the crowd.

“Oi, Black!” Dorcas yells as she sees your figures sneak your way between people with apparent haste. “The fuck you think you’re goin’?” Just from her voice you know Dorcas has had a drink, as her accent has thickened. 

Before either of you can respond, Evan drags her down by the elbow to the sofa he’s sprawled across as he drawls, “They’re going to celebrate dearest Dorc.”

A spat ensues between the two at the use of her least favourite nickname. Regulus has the decency to grow slightly pinkish at that, but his hold on you remains close and you can all but feel his jitters through his touch.

Barty looks at you two upside down from where he lays balancing on top of the sofa. “You nasty fucking pigs,” he grins. “Enjoy yourselves heartily, but get your butts down here to have fun with us too when the adrenaline wears off.”

You snort as Regulus only grows more red. You give Barty a wink as you begin leading the way, dragging your boy dumbly behind you. “We will, Junior, don’t you worry.”

“Bye, Treasure!” Barty calls behind you as you run up the stairs towards the boys dormitory. Regulus’s hand is hot in yours and your stomach tingles in anticipation – but more importantly, your heart aches with pride and love for your hero seeker.

[brokenmenswhore]

A part three to proposition please 🙏

holy SHIT you guys you’re all FIENDS

a proposition: exploration | poly!marauders

#3

pairing: poly!marauders x fem!reader (james, remus, and sirius, featuring alecto, dorcas, evan, lily, and mary)

warnings: smut (MDNI 18+)

a/n: i really hope this was worth the wait, thank you for your patience <3

a proposition: masterlist

────── ☾ ──────

“Morning!”

The group at the Gryffindor table turned their heads toward you.

“Morning,” Remus responded, twisting his body to see you standing directly behind him.

“You guys mind if I sit with you?”

“Not at all, gorgeous,” Remus flirted, patting the spot to his right as he took another bite of french toast.

You blushed as you sat down, smiling to everyone else at the table as a greeting.

As you settled in, the group continued the conversation they were having about upcoming exams. Being a year below them, you didn’t have much to offer, and you were growing bored.

You leaned over toward Remus, confidence beaming due to your desire for attention as you whispered, “thank you for yesterday. You were really nice to me.”

Remus turned his attention away from the group as he looked at you, smiling, “of course, but there’s no need to thank me. It was a pleasure.”

His flirtations made you blush. You thought about how funny it was that he had literally fucked you, yet one little comment made your heart putty in his hands.

You were blushy and giggly like a schoolgirl with a crush, completely unable to control yourself. “I’m glad it was a pleasure.”

Remus smiled even wider, catching onto your antics. “I fucked you once and now you’re in a mood, huh?” he teased.

“Maybe.”

Remus looked around the table, who still hadn’t noticed his absence from the conversation, and he took your hand, leaving his seat and subsequently pulling you up to a stand.

“We’ll be back,” Remus said.

“No no no,” James said, “no, that’s not fair.”

“What’s not fair?” Remus asked.

“Mate, you’re the only one here who’s been with her, and it was last night. Keep it in your pants, we’re literally at breakfast,” James pouted.

“Can’t help it when she asks,” Remus smiled.

You blushed even harder, ducking your head behind Remus’s shoulder in embarrassment.

The table gave up on fighting Remus. James turned back around with a sigh and continued eating and chatting, as did everyone at the table except for Sirius, who stayed eyeing you until you were out of view.

Remus pulled you down a few hallways until he found a sufficiently quiet corridor with empty classrooms.

“Remus, what if someone-“

“They never use these classrooms,” Remus said, quietly clicking the door shut, “one too many hexes, I suppose.”

“But-“

“You look so good right now.”

Your protestations died in your throat as Remus walked closer and closer to you. You took a step backward, and your lower back collided into an empty desk.

“Why so quiet all of a sudden?” Remus teased.

“You make me nervous,” you admitted without thinking.

“Yeah? Nervous how?”

“I don’t know.”

“Yeah, you do.”

“I don’t know, like, I just- I keep thinking about yesterday,” you said.

Remus began to lightly run his fingers up the side of your body. “What about it?”

“You know what about.”

“I wanna hear you say it.”

“You’re joking.”

“Nope.”

You took a deep breath. “I keep thinking about how we had sex. Happy?”

“Not quite,” Remus answered, “I wanna know what exactly about us having sex you keep thinking about.”

“I don’t know, you, I guess?”

“Me, hm?”

“Yeah.”

“You know what I keep thinking about?”

You cocked your head to the side.

“You.”

“Me?”

“Mhm,” Remus continued, “you underneath me, to be specific.”

As he spoke, Remus began to slowly pull your skirt up to your waist, causing your breathing to hitch in your throat.

“Well well well, is this all for me?”

Remus ran a finger over your underwear but still between your folds, the wetness already having soaked through the fabric, leaving an evident stain.

“Yes,” you admitted.

Remus removed his hand, instead wrapping his arms around the backs of your legs, causing you to gasp as you jumped upward. Remus moved you backward, and your ass hit the desk behind you. He took residence standing between your legs, which in turn made your skirt stay bunched up at your waist.

“Can I try something?” Remus asked.

“What do you wanna try?” you asked, your breathing heavy in anticipation from Remus’s close proximity.

“You.”

“Me what?”

“I wanna try you.”

You furrowed your brows in confusion. “You already did, we already had sex. I’m confused.”

Remus chuckled. “No, baby, I wanna taste you.”

“Oh.”

“That okay?”

“I don’t really know what that entails, but yeah.”

“You know you can always just tell me to stop, right?” Remus checked.

“Yes.”

Remus nodded at your response and sunk to his knees, looking up at you as he pushed your underwear to the side.

“What if-“

“Don’t be self conscious baby, you’re beautiful,” Remus eased your nerves, and you took a deep breath as you forced your muscles to relax.

Remus stuck his tongue out and tasted between your folds, moving slowly and gentle so as not to overstimulate you too early, and you shuddered at the contact.

Remus maintained eye contact as you watched him move his tongue up and down, tasting your evident wetness. You moaned when he flicked his tongue faster directly on your clit.

Your body jolted, and Remus made a sound of satisfaction as he continued his work on your clit, alternating between flicking you with his tongue and sucking and kissing.

“Fuck,” you sighed.

Remus reached a hand up to grab yours, intertwining your fingers with his to help steady you in a gesture of intimacy that you really appreciated.

You squeezed his hand as you became a whiny, submissive mess.

Remus’s other hand gripped the flesh of your ass that was accessible, pushing you closer to him and increasing the intensity of your pleasure.

You threw your head back, and your hand instinctively went to the back of Remus’s head, lightly pulling the strands of his hair.

You snapped out of your daze for a moment and quickly removed your hand, self conscious about the action made while you were lost in pleasure.

Remus pulled away from you. “Go for it, baby, don’t hold back.”

You knew he was intentionally calling you baby because you mentioned yesterday that you liked it, and the remembrance was only adding to your arousal.

You swallowed your self consciousness and resumed playing with Remus’s hair. He moaned into you at the feeling, clearly happy about it.

“Shit, Rem-“

Remus moved his mouth faster, desperately trying to pull an orgasm from you.

“Rem- Remmy-“

Remus pulled away for a brief moment to say, “feels so good you’re callin me nicknames now, huh?”

“S-sorry,” you stuttered.

“Uh uh, you better keep moaning little nicknames for me like that.”

You simply moaned in response, losing strength to stay sitting up as you began to lightly grind your hips against Remus’s face, so lost in pleasure you didn’t care about being embarrassed anymore.

Remus slapped the outside of your thigh, looking up at you. He decided to test the waters with you. “I said keep moaning my fucking name.”

You liked the dominance. “Yes, Remmy.”

“Good girl,” he praised, reconnecting his mouth to you and still focusing on your clit, deciding to save anything else for another time, as this was your first time doing this, and he wanted to take it slow. He knew not many of the others would.

You threw your head back, anchoring yourself with your hand on Remus’s head as your moans became louder and louder.

Remus let go of your hand and held your waist, now completely gripping your hips as he pushed you as close to him as he could.

Your high was approaching quickly, and your moans were becoming high pitched and weak.

“I’m, it’s- Remmy, I-“

Remus didn’t pull away, but instead looked up at you to watch your face as you came.

You threw your head back instinctively, your chest rapidly rising and falling as your orgasm washed over you.

Remus stayed between your legs to lap up any and all wetness, and only stood when he was satisfied.

You were trying hard to catch your breath, and Remus smiled at you. “Feel good?”

You smiled in return. “Fuck.”

Remus kissed you, and you could taste yourself on his lips.

“I’m not even hungry for breakfast anymore,” Remus joked.

────── ☾ ──────

All you could think about was Remus.

You felt like a woman possessed. You couldn’t focus in lectures because all you could think of was Remus’s head between your legs. How he sounded when he moaned into you. The way he called you baby when he fucked you. The way he runs his fingers through his messy hair. You were enamored, and you were becoming horny much more frequently than you ever imagined.

Even when you were with the group, you stayed attached to Remus. You always sat with your thigh against his, and even sometimes stood holding his arm. You were obsessed, and the group noticed.

You had just joined, and you were already completely infatuated with just one of them, and that concerned the group, so they decided to meet without you, something they rarely did, but found necessary.

“She’s absolutely obsessed with you, mate.”

Remus flicked embers from his cigarette into the ashtray in the center of the courtyard. “I don’t know what to tell you. I like her, if she wants me, I’m not gonna say no. It’s her choice who she wants.”

“Come on, guys, go easy on Y/N,” Lily said, “every girl gets a little obsessed with their first time. It’s the same way I was with James.”

“If that ain’t the truth,” James said, raising his bottle of firewhiskey.

Sirius took the opportunity to stand up and grab the raised bottle, and he downed the remainder of its contents in an instant.

“Someone else needs to fuck her,” Mary chimed in, “simple as that.”

“She’ll get there, why rush her?” Remus defended.

“Oh shut up mate, you just like having someone want you so bad,” James argued.

Remus shrugged before taking another drag of his cigarette, not completely disagreeing with James’s sentiment.

Sirius cleared his throat, and the attention of the room turned to him. In an annoyed tone, he spoke, “someone go and fuck her, then.”

“Why don’t you go find her?” Dorcas suggested to Sirius.

“Maybe I will.”

“No, no, I got this,” James said, standing up and straightening his shirt, “I know my way to the Hufflepuff common room.”

“She’s not in the common room, she’s in potions,” Sirius said.

“What, you know her schedule now?”

Sirius shrugged and rested his elbows on his knees, the wind knocking a few strands of hair in front of his face.

James threw his hands in the air. “I don’t know where the Hufflepuff potions classroom is, what do you want me to do? Fuck.”

“Just find her later. It’s not like she’s gonna fuck you in a classroom anyways,” Dorcas said.

Remus scoffed to himself, not realizing it was loud enough for the group to hear. Everyone’s gaze shot toward him.

“Sorry,” Remus smiled, clearly not sorry at all.

“Oh come on,” James said, throwing his hands up in the air, “I don’t even have a shot.”

“You’ll be fine, mate, just try manhandling her a little,” Remus said casually.

“Yeah?”

“She seemed to like the little bit I did when I tried,” Remus revealed.

By the time classes were over, you were nowhere to be seen. You hadn’t had the need to walk past the courtyard at all, but that didn’t mean James gave up. Instead, he just walked around the Hufflepuff hallways until he saw you.

“Hey Y/N!” he exclaimed when he finally caught your eye.

“Hey, James, what are you doing down here?” you said, approaching the common room door.

“Do you guys get to snatch snacks?” he asked, his inner monologue taking over as he noticed the Hufflepuff common room was extremely close to the kitchens.

“You came down here because you wanted a snack?” you asked, turning to face him.

“I guess you could say that,” he responded.

“What does that mean?”

“Shouldn’t you know now? I mean, I thought Remus took care of teaching you that already,” James smirked.

You blushed and bowed your head briefly. “He’s quick to talk, that one.”

“Why have you been so attached to him?” James asked.

You processed the question before speaking. “I don’t know, I guess I didn’t realize I had been. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, angel, no worries,” James said, stepping closer and closer to you, “I think I can help that.”

“Yeah?” you played along, “how?”

“Follow me and you’ll find out.”

You smiled as you took James’s hand, your other hand holding your books to your chest as you mindlessly followed James’s lead. You watched the muscles in his arm flex as he held onto your hand, and you felt yourself growing excited.

You were becoming attached to Remus, and you knew you had to get that out of your system. Besides, James was hot, and you were now perpetually horny, so why not indulge in a little fun?

────── ☾ ──────

“I am not going in there.”

James sighed. “C’mon, it really isn’t as scary as it looks. Promise.”

“No no, I think it is as scary as it looks,” you protested, “I’ve heard horror stories about this place, James. It’s called the Shrieking Shack for a reason.”

“Would you just trust me?” James said.

“In theory,” you responded, but still swallowed your fears and let him direct you toward the dilapidated building.

You were surprised by its contents. The interior was decorated somewhat cozy, and a large bed sat in the corner across from a warm fireplace. Lily sat on a couch facing the flames, reading for pleasure in her solitude.

“Hey, Lil, I’m sorry, we didn’t know you were out here,” James said when he spotted her.

“No worries,” Lily said, standing, “I can get going, and leave you two alone.”

She started to exit the room, but the moment she walked past James, he called out to her. “Wait. Stay.”

You turned to James, then to Lily, then back to James again. Maybe he didn’t bring you here to fuck. Maybe he really just wanted to hang out.

“Yeah? Is that alright with you, Y/N?” Lily asked.

Your gaze continued to shift between James and Lily. “I think I’m confused.”

James took a step closer to you, shifting his body behind you as he swept your hair off of one shoulder. He leaned toward your ear, whispering, “No, I don’t think you are.”

He then lightly kissed your neck, momentarily sucking on a few sensitive spots. You felt yourself lose control as your head fell backwards and your eyes closed. His lips felt like heaven against your skin.

You forgot Lily was in the room until you felt her presence in front of you. You opened your eyes but they almost instantly shut again as Lily connected her lips to yours. Your mouths moved in sync as you let yourself melt into their touches.

James’s hands ran down your sides, pushing down the garments on your lower body. You shivered as the cool air hit your now bare skin.

“Here, c’mere,” James said, directing you over to the space in between the couch and the fireplace. “Better?”

“Mhm,” you vocalized.

James studied you for a moment. He remembered what Remus has said earlier about manhandling you, and decided to take the chance. He stood in front of you and grabbed your throat, lightly squeezing his fingers as he pulled your body closer to his, your face mere inches from his. “You gonna be good?” he whispered.

“Yes,” you answered.

“Good girl,” he praised, his unoccupied hand connecting to your clit, immediately rubbing steady circles on you as he studied your expression.

Your mouth opened and you tried to moan, but the pressure around your throat meant every noise came out as a shaky breath or a small, strangled moan.

James’s eyes never left yours as your brows furrowed and you tried to shift your weight, but his grip on you was firm. He studied exactly how your features shifted and contorted when he moved fast or hit a particularly good spot, and he could feel a straining in his jeans.

Your arousal grew each time you tried to move away but couldn’t. James was certainly the most muscular of any of the group, and he worked out the most, almost by default from playing Quidditch. You were happy he was manhandling you: he was perfect for it.

James continued to touch you as you struggled to remain standing, but luckily, Lily came to your aid, holding your hips from behind.

“Aweh, Jamesie, I think she’s gonna fall if you let her go,” Lily taunted.

James listened to Lily, then directed his attention back to you. “Open your eyes,” he demanded, and you did just that, “if you fall, it better be to your knees.”

You nodded your head up and down as much as you could with James’s grip on you, and he immediately let go of your throat. You felt your knees buckle, and despite the fact that you probably could have stood, you sunk to your knees in front of James.

He smiled wickedly as he unbuttoned his jeans and pushed them down, standing in front of you in his boxers once his shirt was removed.

You looked up at him and swallowed hard, turned on but also nervous.

“I’ve never done this before,” you reminded him, “I don’t think it’ll be good.”

“You don’t have to do it, angel,” James said, fearing he was pressuring you.

“I want to,” you admitted, “I just- I-“

“Want me to talk you through it?”

“You don’t have to- I just- I don’t know-“

James sank down to your level, kneeling on the floor in front of you and taking your hands in his. “If you don’t wanna do this, you tell me whenever. Otherwise, don’t be embarrassed. I’ll walk you through it. We stop when you want. Don’t worry about it being bad, baby, that pretty mouth around my cock couldn’t possibly be bad. Lily can help, too. She’s got it down to a science. Okay?”

You blushed and dropped your head to hide it. James maneuvered his own boxers off, before standing up again, his semi-hard cock almost level with your face.

“You wanna watch what I do first?” Lily suggested, and you immediately nodded. You would feel a lot more comfortable seeing her do it first, partially so you could have a reference, but partially because you couldn’t stand the thought of doing it in front of Lily without Lily having done anything sexual in front of you first.

Lily shuffled on her knees toward James, who smiled down at her. She took James’s cock in her hand and pointed the tip directly outward.

“Boys like it when you work ‘em up first, especially this one,” Lily smiled.

Lily kept James’s cock steady as she licked a stripe from the base to the tip, circling her tongue around the tip before pulling away to speak again.

“Since it’s your first time, don’t rush it,” she said, “go nice and slow and let yourself adjust. Like this.”

Lily wrapped her mouth around James’s cock, and he immediately threw his head back and let out a moan. She slowly sunk her head further and further down.

James’s hand instinctively found it’s way to the back of Lily’s head, causing Lily to pull away with a pop. “She can’t see if your arm is in the way, Jamie!”

“Fuck, sorry,” James breathed out, clearly worked up from even one small moment.

“The little moans mean he likes it,” Lily said, “just watch your teeth. Try to think about hollowing out your cheeks.”

You nodded and watched as Lily reconnected her mouth to James’s cock. He clenched his hands into fists to stop himself from holding her head against him, and you could tell he was fighting to keep his resolve. Lily moved her head as far down as she could go, then almost entirely off, then back down again. She kept a steady pace, and eventually James looked down at her, and Lily forced her eyes open to look back at him.

“Fuck, we love it when you fucking look at us,” James said, talking to you, but looking at Lily.

Lily continued to suck him off for a few moments before disconnecting herself from him again, shifting backwards on her knees to make room for you.

You made yourself comfortable as you took a deep breath. You looked up at James, and he nearly combusted when he made eye contact with you. “Shit, baby, don’t look at me like that.”

“Will you tell me if anything is uncomfortable?” you asked.

The innocence coating your voice was driving James crazy, and he was growing more and more eager by the second. “Shit, yes, I promise.”

You copied Lily’s initial actions, wrapping your hand around the base of his cock as you wrapped your lips around his tip. You remembered what Lily said about teeth, and you did your best to avoid having them touch James. You moved your lips as far down James’s shaft as you could before you felt his tip his the back of your throat, causing you to gag around him and pull away.

“It’s okay, that’s okay! That’s totally normal,” Lily said, immediately putting her hand on your back to comfort you, “just go a little less far this time.”

You wrapped your lips around James again, this time only sinking down as far as you could without his cock hitting the back of your throat. You slowly pulled back and then pushed in again, trying to gage how it feels to move. You focused on keeping your cheeks hollowed out.

After a few tries, you got your jaw in a comfortable position. You looked up at James, who was fighting for his life to keep it together. He was gripping Lily’s hand in his own, and his other hand was in front of his face, covering his own mouth.

You pulled away from James. “Are you okay?” you asked.

“Yeah, baby, just didn’t wanna make a noise and stress you out.”

“Am I doing okay?”

“You’re doing so good for me, baby.”

You gave him a small smile before sinking back onto his length. You found your comfortable position again, and began to move more and more, gradually increasing your speed as you adjusted.

“Atta girl,” Lily said.

You braced yourself by placing your palms on his thighs, allowing yourself to more easily get closer and closer to him.

As time went on, James lost himself in the pleasure, and eventually completely forgot that this was your first time, and that he was supposed to be gentle.

His eyes were closed and his head was thrown back as he placed his hand on the back of your head, forcing you closer to him.

You tried your best to focus on keeping your cheeks hollow, and realized you should breathe through your nose. You knew you could stop James at any time, but you didn’t really want to. You relished in the knowledge that your mouth around him felt so good that he lost control.

James began to buck his hips forward, causing you to still your head as he took over. He fucked your mouth fast, chasing his high as you tried your best to breathe and stay still.

Lily grabbed your shoulders and pulled you away from him. James snapped out of his trance, and looked down to you concerned.

“Shit, angel, are you alright?” he asked, leaning down and running a thumb over your cheek.

You nodded yes as you caught your breath.

You turned to Lily, who said, “it’s no fun if he comes already.”

James got down to your level, kneeling on the floor as he begged, “seven hells, Y/N, please let us fuck you.”

You leaned toward James and gently kissed him, and he immediately reciprocated, running his fingers through your hair and deepening the kiss.

He pulled you against his body as he leaned backward, straightening his legs until he was laying flat against the floor, holding your body against his while still kissing you.

“Flip around,” he said.

You gave him a confused look, but instead of explaining, he simply repeated, “flip the fuck around.”

You awkwardly shifted your body around until your back was to James. You were nervous to put the pressure of your body against his chest, so you knelt on the floor between his legs, unsure of what to do.

You luckily didn’t have to ask. James leaned upward and wrapped his arms around your body, pulling your back flush against his chest as he laid back down against the rug.

“Legs on either side of me, angel,” he said, and you moved your knees to either side of his waist.

Even before you had sex, you had some understanding of how it worked, but this was all new for you. You listened to any instruction James gave you without question, because it wasn’t like you knew what you were doing anyway.

James unwrapped his arms from your body and ran his fingers over your arms before pulling them backwards, your head nearly knocking back into his head from surprise as he positioned your arms on either side of his head, allowing you to hold yourself up.

“You okay?” he checked in once he had you in the position he wanted.

“Mhm,” you responded.

He gripped your hips, his strength overwhelming you as he lifted your hips with ease. You helped him, lifting your knees until you felt him stop.

James gave his cock a few fast strokes before he positioned himself at your entrance. He pushed your hips down, trying to be slow for your sake, but somewhat failing. When you were all the way sat down, you could hear James’s head hit the floor as he threw it back.

He continued to move your hips up and down, relishing in the pleasure. After a few thrusts, he choked out, “Lil?”

“Already here,” she said, her voice sultry.

Your eyes were squeezed shut, but when you heard her voice, you snapped out of your daze to see she was right between your legs.

“Hi,” you squeaked out.

“Hi,” she responded.

She straightened her back until her lips were mere inches away from yours. She waited until you cried out at a sharp thrust of James’s hips to kiss you. She wrapped her fingers in your hair to keep your head in place, her tongue finding it’s way into your mouth as you moaned.

When she pulled away, she kept eye contact, and began to move down your body. When she was back in between your legs, you nodded to her, granting her permission.

Lily’s tongue began to taste between your folds. James’s thrusts we’re growing hard, his hips now moving more than yours, so Lily didn’t have to do much work.

Her tongue flicked against you as your hips moved up and down, the added pleasure causing your arousal to build rapidly.

She gazed up at you, moving her mouth closer to you so she could suck at your clit as you watched her.

“Fuck, I can’t-“ you moaned.

James released one of your hips and gripped your hair, forcing your head to tilt downward and watch Lily.

Lily sucked and licked at your clit, focusing on circling your clit with her tongue, knowing it would help drive you over the edge.

“Fuck, c’mere,” James nearly growled, knocking your arms and holding your back against his chest, your head falling beside his.

He began to fuck into you even harder, hitting your sweet spot with every vicious thrust. The stretched out position allowed Lily more access to your core, and she gently pawed at James’s balls as she continued to taste you.

While everything about the moment was heated, what sent you over the edge was James’s hold on you. His muscular arms held you against him so effortlessly, but so strong that you couldn’t dare to move if you wanted to. You felt so close to him, and the thought did you in.

“I’m com-“ you couldn’t even finish the sentence before your high crashed over you.

James immediately pulled you up and off of him and allowed Lily to taste your juices, sucking at your entrance until you had calmed down and were clean. As she did so, James used one hand to hold his cock against your thigh, fucking it until he came, spilling his seed on your thigh and hip.

Lily leaned over to lick up the come all over you, making sure you were clean before she backed away.

You dropped your hips to the floor, exhaustion overwhelming you as James shifted backward and allowed you to rest your head on his legs.

Naked and fucked out, James began to run his fingers through your sweat soaked hair. You stayed there for a moment, while Lily reclothed herself and organized her books, before you asked, “how long have you guys been coming here?”

“Years,” James answered, “Remus started coming here during his transitions, and the rest of us would come help him out. It kinda became our place.”

You tilted your head to look up at James. “His what?”

“His transitions. Transformations. Whatever.”

“Transformations?”

“Remus is a werewolf, honey,” Lily chimed in, “there’s no way you couldn’t have known that.”

You did not know that.

“Sirius can turn into a dog,” James blurted out.

“A what?”

“You have so much to learn,” James teased.

“A dog? Like a dog? Like a literal dog?”

“Mhm,” James smiled, “pretty cute dog, too. Big fluffy black thing. Can be kinda scary. He doesn’t really talk about it.”

“What can you turn into?” you looked up to James.

“Baby, you just saw the animal I can be.”

“Oh be honest with her, James,” Lily said, “that wasn’t even the half of it.”

────── ☾ ──────

taglist: @alixmarauders @riddlemenottsluttyslytherin @twilightlover2007 @hcqwxrtss123 @queerndepressed @prongs-wolfstar-marauders @flowersarcute @remussbitch @ch4rlotte35 @alwaysanundertone @urfavhanna @donovorita28 @randomcreator-09 @joey-hoey @chronically-sh-ana @pinksmellslikelove @blvebanisters @aaronhotchswife @roseblack1864 @chaevvonders @champomiel

[sleyu]

DATING JAMES POTTER INCLUDES . . .

PAIRING: JAMES POTTER X READER

GENRE: FLUFF & SMUT

If anyone is boyfriend coded, it's James.

James is so desperate for your attention. It’s fully up to you how you would react to the stunts he’d pull and all the nonsense he’d say for you to spare just a mere glance at him, but as soon as you do, he’s not shutting up for days. So much so, you’d find Remus on his hands and knees, begging to give James a chance so that he could finally study in peace.

When James falls in love, the person he is infatuated with and the things in relation to them is the only thing that remains in his mind.

‘Ugh,’ he thinks, ‘Madam Puddifoot’s Tea Shop is an eye sore.’ But wait, ‘Y/n loves pink. I ought to bring her here next time.’ He thinks.

James, contrary to what he makes himself out to be in front of his friends before meeting you, abandons any sense of his pride and ego when it comes to his girl.

Before falling in love with you, James would scoff and snicker at couples around Hogwarts, at people holding hands, cheeks flushed and eyes starry-eyed, as they’d walk together in Hogsmeade.

Meeting you, falling in love with you—finally making you his—made him love every corny, cheesy aspect of being with someone, completely endeared and left sheepish by their every breath and movement.

During ’ O.W.L.S. or any test for that matter, one could steal a glance at James, only to see him absentmindedly writing down your initials with a heart right beside them on his parchment, looking almost bored at his otherwise empty paper.

Anytime he would find himself stuck on a question, he would sigh happily, putting his quill down and all his focus on you, trying to find you sitting in the exam hall, smiling in amusement at the look of determination on your face.

James being in love means him attempting to look for your face during every quidditch match, upon every win, and during every loss, trying his best to search for your reaction. All he wants is for you to see him in his glory, and no amounts of pats on his back or the cheers he receives from crowds compare to the feeling of your thumb caressing his cheek, or your hands softly patting him on the head, telling him how proud you are of him and how you couldn’t take his eyes off him.

James finds it tough to admit and often struggles to communicate it, but he needs your praise. He needs you to tell him that he did good, that he looks handsome, that he’s brilliant for his latest prank, and that no one else compares to him. Of course, it’s an ego boost for him, but behind his egotistic front is a vulnerable, questioning man who doubts himself often, wanting nothing more than to prove himself to you.

‘Did I do good, love?’ he’d ask, desperation seeping from his honey-like voice, as though he’s unable to wait for your answer, fearing the possibility of your displeasure. ‘Please tell me I did.’

Of course, this manifests in your sex life. James needs praise always and rarely ever incorporates degradation into his lovemaking. He not only tells you how pretty you look for him, how good you feel wrapped around his leaking cock, but also begs you to be vocal, to communicate your pleasure and to tell him that you only belong to him and that no one else could make you feel as good as him.

‘Need you to tell me, baby—fuck! Wanna make you feel good—wanna make my good girl feel good—god.’

‘Tell me—tell me you love me. Say it again—need to hear it again,’

James begs that you leave a kiss mark on his cheek for ‘Good luck,’ right before a quidditch game.

The mandatory uniform for Gryffindor Quidditch matches is James’ jersey. Nothing fuels his pride and his absolute enamour for you more than seeing his last name plastered across your chest and back, proudly and visibly displaying your support for him and only him.

After a big win, you can expect to be fucked in the jersey. James swears he’s never cum faster than he has when he took you from behind and watched as your back arched; the name, ‘Potter,’ printed upon your trembling body as though it was a mark of ownership and loyalty.

Dating James means that he’s treating you as though you’re made of glass. Gentle touches and grips to your waist as the two of you walk in the school corridors, and adoring coos when he sees you slump against him, tired from a long day.

‘My poor angel. Always working so hard, yeah? C’mon, I’ll take care of you.’

He’d rather die than hear you call him by his name. To James, calling him by his name means that you’re treating him as though he were any other person when he isn’t. He needs to hear the affection laced in your words. The soft, gentle mumble of ‘baby, darling, Jamie, honey,’ is all he seeks to hear from you and he practically crumbles against the gentle caress of your hand on his cheek when you refer to him by a pet name.

‘James,’ you sigh, exasperated. Your boyfriend furrows his eyebrows, ‘That’s baby to you!’

During the summer, he’d insist you attach a photo of you with every letter you send him, whether it’s you on vacation or simply in your room, he has to get his fill of you.

He’d spend so much money on little trinkets for you, little items he would pick up from the sneaky Marauders Hogsmeade trips.

Sirius would huff as James pulled him into a stationary shop, ‘James, can we please stop making pit stops? We have 30 minutes left.’ James shook his head, grinning to himself as he picked up several pretty pens he reckons you’d love, ‘Need to supply the missus with gifts, Pads.’

James would be so happy once you begin warming up to the Marauders. His favourite people loving his favourite person? It’s his dream come true and as soon as he sees you bickering with Sirius, having long and insightful discussions with Remus, and casually hanging around Peter, he knows he’s going to be with you for a very, very long time. He’ll make sure of it, he decides then.

James would most certainly carry your bag as he drops you off to class. The first time he attempted in doing it, the two of you were tugging your bag for five minutes, arguing with each other about who would carry the pound of weight on your shoulders. He won, much to your dismay, but a surge of warmth bursts through him the first time you hand your bag over to him mindlessly, without him asking or fighting you for it, as though you had expected him to do it. He treasures these moments in your relationship where he begins to realize that habits between the two of you are beginning to grow and that you both are becoming used to being such an integral part of each other's lives.

He constantly tells you that you’re his everything and that all he does is for you and only you.

Study dates with him are entirely pointless as they never lead to actual studying as James cannot survive five minutes without your undivided attention on him. What do you mean you have to read a textbook for an hour? No periodic breaks to kiss your boyfriend or to coo at him? The only way actual studying will get done is if you promise him a kiss for every correct answer he gets—but we all know where that’s leading to.

He was the first one to say, ‘I love you,’ in the relationship. He would probably say it very quickly as he had known he loved you before the two of you dated, but he’s entirely fine with you wanting to take your time in dissecting your feelings for him.

Until you say it back, with every night and morning kiss, every departure before class, he’d whisper a giddy, ‘I love you, darling,’ to which you’d smile bashfully. Once you do say it back, he’s smiling like an idiot for two weeks straight. He would be almost annoying about it, like a child on Christmas Day. He’d tell you that he loves you repeatedly only to hear you say his four favourite words: ‘I love you too.’

[lenacosse]

Other side

pairing: james potter x fem reader

cw: literally just smut

summary: james has a particular way on releasing his anger

‘so it goes…

i’m yours to keep

and i’m yours to lose

you know i’m not a bad girl, but i

do bad things with you.’

════════════════

James Potter, beloved head boy most renounced for his kind and helpful nature, everyone adorned him, everyone wanted to be his friend. Yet you, his girlfriend of two months saw a different side to him, a darker one. James was in no way the perfect angel he was painted to be- yet you’d argue that it he was pretty close to that- he had a temper to him. Most boys punched something, cursed someone out or started a fight when built up, but James was different. He fucked.

The match in front of your eyes between Slytherin and Gryffindor was quite aggressive, both teams had a fiery passion built on their egos. It was a known fact the two houses were each others greatest rivals and so you knew how hard James trained for this match- waking up at the crack of dawn and training for hours, you knew how much he needed the win. The damp and gloomy weather caused for an increase in tensions the enjoyment of the game was frankly stripped with a very non-enthusiastic crowd, the rain had fully soaked through your clothes sending a deep shiver down your spine, droplets of water impaired your sight making the players look like blobs flying around and the cold of Scotlands famed weather made you want to be inside curled up next to the fire.

The rest of the match was nothing short of a blur, nearing the end Gryffindor had the upper hand it seemed as if they had prospect of winning but of course the Slytherins ruined that. The beater send a bludger in the direction of the Gryffindor beater, this hit him right in the stomach sending him off his broom. The crowd averted their attention to the falling boy, but you watched as James got distracted, wondering if his teammate was alright. Whilst distracted, Regulus Black dove in and caught the snitch. The Slytherin stand jumped to a cheer as the Gryffindor stand protested.

“That’s not fair they cheated!” Shouted a fourth year, who was boiling with rage, the rest of the stand alike.

“I hate Slytherins.” Grumbled Mary beside you, her arms were crossed and she wore a deep scowl on her face.

“That was a dirty win,” agreed Lily who stood huddled in next to you, you wanted to save as much heat.

“Sirius is going to be so pissy about this for the rest of the week, he’s not going to let Regulus get off easy with that.” Remus complained watching as Sirius got off his broom and angrily stomped over to the direction of James.

“Not Sirius I would be worried about,” Mary sighed, “look at James, he must be raging. He really wanted this win.”

“I think you’re right,” Lily agreed, “Y/N you should go down to him.”

“I was thinking about letting him cool off first maybe.”

You looked down to the pitch, James had his arms crossed. His jaw was firmly cleaned and his eyes glared across the pitch at the Slytherins, who were celebrating their victory. You stood with your friends for a moment longer, all talking about how tonight would look before deciding to go inside. You chose not to and instead made your way onto the pitch, you approached James and Sirius who were engaged in a very intense conversation.

“Hey,” you said, breaking them from the conversation. You shot them both sympathetic looks, especially James who you’ve never seen so riled up before.

“Go inside and change, you’re soaked.” James replied, despite the sentiment of his words his voice lacked the same warmth, instead his attention focused on the Slytherins again.

“Im fine-” you began but was quickly cut off by the shouts of the Slytherin team.

“Why the long face Potter?” One of them teased, the whole group broke out into laughter in response.

James clenched his fists, as did Sirius. You were scared that this was about to turn into a whole fight.

“Come on you two, let’s go inside. Ignore them they’re just winding you up.”

“Yeah Potter listen to your mummy.” Another from the team remarked, before you knew it James was shoving him to the ground. It all happened so quickly that you could barely process the whole thing.

“Sirius get him off!” You shouted, Sirius quickly ran over attempting to pull James back but when one of the boys punched Sirius in the face he joined in to fight.

It was a good few minutes before the Gryffindor team managed to break up the fight, Marlene dragged a very beaten up looking Sirius inside, presumably to Madame Pomfrey. James shrugged himself out of the grip of John Bell and walked over to you, before you could comment on his bloody lip he grabbed you hand and pulled you inside. The two of you silently walked up to the Gryffindor dormitories, past the common room and straight up to his room. You knew what was coming, you’d be lying if you said the grip his hand had on yours and the pace of his legs didn’t have your arousal building up. You knew instead you should clean up his lip and help cool him down, but there was something deep inside you excited for this, excited to have him dominate you and use you as his toy. You were so lost in thought you gasped as he pushed you up against the wall.

You gripped his arm steadying your balance as his lips went immediately to your neck, his sucked and bit the area, marking you as his with the darkest of marks. He detached from your neck and smashed his lips onto yours, your hand went into his damp hair as your lips connected you could taste the blood from his swollen lip. His tongue slipped into your mouth, engulfing you into an intense make out. Whilst doing so James gripped your ass, pulling you closer to you and causing a moan to escape your lips as your front grind against his, you felt his bulging cock, begging to be freed. James pulled back and smirked at you, his eyes darkening with lust.

“Get down on your knees.” He ran a finger across your lip as you nodded, gazing at him starry eyed through your fluttering lashes.

You slowly dropped to your knees, patiently watching as James undone his trousers pulling them and his boxers down to his ankles. You mouth practically watered as his cock sprung free, it was red and bulging, aching from need and so painfully stiff. You swore you’d never seen him so hard before. You leaned forward your lips shyly coming in contact with his tip, you moved closer allowing your tongue to lick a long stripe from his base to his tip. James gathered your hair in his hands, his grip making you wince ever so slightly. You took him in your mouth- well as much as could fit, you felt him in the back of your throat as you started to move your head. Sucking on him and hollowing your cheeks as you done so, the deep grunts coming from James had you squeezing your thighs together. Abruptly he tightened his grip on your hair and started to control your head, he quickened your speed and pushed himself further down your throat making a gag escape your lips and your eyes prickle with tears.

“Good girl,” James praised, bringing a blush to your cheeks. You looked up at him, tears streaming down your face as you kept going, he nodded in approval. “Touch yourself darling.” You furrowed your brows and he reiterated his statement.

You lowered your hand to the waistband of your legging, you slid your hand into your underwear and started to rub circular motions on your clit. A deep moan came from you as you picked up the pace, James moved your head faster your moans sending a deeper pleasure to him. The room filled with the erratic sounds of your moans and sucking along with James’ deep grunts and groans. You felt the coil tightening in your stomach, building up getting close to snapping. You looked up at James, he nodded encouraging your actions. You felt him getting sloppier with his movements as he moved a hand to the wall for support. He had his head back and his Adam apple was prominent, his jaw was slightly parted in pleasure and his hair messily sat atop his hair occasionally dripping from the rain droplets. The sight of his itself brought you closure to your release, as you deep you moaned with such volume you could have sworn those in the common room would have heard you, but you couldn’t care.

As soon as you came undone James pulled back, he grasped your arms pulling you up. Your legs shook as he walked you over to his bed, he wasted no time pushing you onto it and stripping himself down. You watched biting your lip at him, his abs glistened with sweat and his arms bulged with veins, not to mention the fact he was still hard. He towered over you, kissing you roughly as his hands pulled off your legging. He pulled back as he removed your underwear, a smirk forming as he saw the result of your orgasm.

“Fuck you are so hot.” He whispered into your ear, your whole body flushed as your arousal practically leaked from you. You so desperately needed him, you grabbed his jaw pulling his mouth to yours and kissing him roughly. Your tongue forcing its way into his mouth, slowly James pulled back biting your lip as he done so, you whined in return.

“Please,” you groaned as you wrapped a leg around his waist, hoping some friction.

“Not yet baby.” He said, as he kissed down your jaw. He pulled back, removing your jumper and bra and continued kissing down your body. He left marks on your collarbone before moving to your chest. He took your left nipple into his mouth, sucking and biting on it as your desperation grew, you had a deep ache for him and his every move only grew that.

Swiftly he moved from your body, grabbed your waist and flipped you onto your stomach. He gripped your ass and firmly smacked it before speaking, “get onto your hands and knees.” Right away you done that, biting your lip in anticipation. James from behind grabbed your hips, he rubbed his tip against your soaked folds making you whimper in pleasure, and leaving you clenching around nothing. “Beg.”

You whined in protest, making stop the action altogether. A huff escaped your lips, “please James. Please.. fuck me.” You pleaded.

Without warning he shoved into you making you cry out at the stretch. Soon you adjusted and the harder he went the louder you got, you couldn’t control the sounds escaping your lips as the pleasure overrode your body, you could instantly feel the coil build up in your stomach once again. James gripped the head board reaching over you and going even deeper, allowing him better access of that sweet spot, this had your eyes rolling in pleasure. His other hand firmly wrapped around your throat, not enough to harm you but enough to get you going even more. Chasing that release you rolled your hips, sending courses of overbearing pleasure to you both.

James moaned in response, a sound that had your arms weakening and mind fogging, you clenched around him practically screaming as you came undone. Your arms collapsed as you fell onto the bed. James let go of your throat and the headboard and instead held your hips as he mercilessly pounded into you, by now you were in a state of pure euphoria, completely and utterly cock drunk. A continuation of soft moans formed from you, too gone to stop it. James gripped your hips tighter, moving them with each thrust he done again doubling the pleasure coursing through you. It wasn’t long until you felt that coil again, each thrust made you weaker and weaker, your mind only focused on the utter bliss you felt- the complete exhilaration he caused you.

“Fuck baby- you feel so good.” James groaned as he pounded into you.

His speed was sending the bed rocking with him and slamming into the wall, the noise you both were making frankly ensured no one would walk in although even that wouldn’t faze you considering how immobilised you’d become, in the best way possible. You didn’t want it to end.

“James,” you cried out. “Feels so good, fuck.”

“You look so pathetic,” he grunted. “Like an absolute slut for me.” The degradation made you clench around him in absolute bliss. He smacked your ass again, resulting in a squeal from you as you raised it further for him.

“Don’t stop.” You moaned, your hands gripped his pillow, your knuckles turning white at the intensity.

You came hard around him, causing nothing short of a mess. You were dripping and clenching around him, tears of pleasure streamed down your face and your throat was numb from the volume of your moans. James very quickly came too, completely filling you up, the warm sensation flew through you and leaked out of you. Slowly he pulled out creating an even bigger mess around you both. You moved to sit at the top of the bed, blushing furiously at the result of you both.

“Sorry.” You said shyly.”

“Don’t apologise, it was hot.” James winked as he stripped the bed. “No big deal.”

He helped clean you up and supplied you with a hoodie of his and a pair of shorts, you both got into his bed squeezing in together. You lay on his chest as he stroked your hair.

“Feeling okay?” He smiled, you couldn’t help but smile at the complete change in him. Although you loved when he got worked up this was your favourite version of James, the sweet one that cared for you and held you in his arms.

“Yes.” You smiled. “I must say though, you really should lose more often.”

James shook his head. “You’d like that wouldn’t you?”

“Maybe.” You blushed and settled contently next to him.

You must’ve fell asleep but was abruptly woken up by the clapping of someone. You opened your eyes to see Peter, Sirius and Remus all at the foot of James’ bed. Sirius was the one clapping, a boyish grin on his face, Remus shook his head at Sirius and Peter awkwardly looked to the ground.

“Congratulations you two animals the entirety of Gryffindor heard your little session. We were almost scared to come upstairs and by the silence we thought you were dead Y/N.” Sirius teased.

“Stop lying Sirius. I’ve no idea what you’re talking about.” You rolled your eyes as you sat up.

“Oh really?” Sirius laughed as he done an impression of you, you covered your face in sheer embarrassment as James threw a pillow at him rightfully shutting him up.

“Shut up Sirius.” Remus and James said in union.