#pandora rosier x dorcas meadows | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

sommerregenjuniluft · 1 year ago

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@hpsaffics feb 10 - voyeurism/exhibitionism - 3.2k words (apologies hjfkjds) - NSFW

for ino @veryinnovative <3

There’s a sigh from behind Dorcas and then a body draping over her back where she’s in the pleasantly hot and salty smelling water all the way down to her shoulders.

A smile tugs at her lips and she reaches behind through the water for the backs of Pandora’s knees as the other tangles her arms above Dorcas’ chest.

Another heavy sigh, put upon and bordering on melodramatic—god, she really is so cute. Dorcas is gonna have to put her in timeout. Or maybe herself, for everyone’s collective safety.

She keeps wading them through the water, following Regulus’ black head of curls, and then it’s a noise, a chilly nose nuzzling at the crook of Dorcas’ neck from behind and she can’t help but snicker, “Something wrong, mon cheri?”

Pandora sighs, like she’s faced with a pile of her least favourite work instead of the relaxing thermal bath they’re currently in.

“C’mon, sweets,” Dorcas gently scratches her short nails against Pandora’s bare knee, “Talk to me.”

Pandora mumbles something unintelligible into the hinge of her jaw and Dorcas dips lower into the water to mask the shiver that goes through her whole body.

“Couldn’t quite hear you there.”

Pandora harrumphs, legs tightening in the old around Dorcas’ hips. “Just– dunno,” she deflates slightly, cheek smushed against Dorcas’ shoulder, “Can’t seem to get out of my mood.”

Dorcas hums knowingly, drawing soothing circles on top of her thighs where she’s still holding onto her. Pandora and Evan had been arguing the whole car ride, she told Dorcas she’d slept awfully and when she dropped an open tupperware of fruit as they were packing Pandora nearly started crying.

“Here,” Dorcas says, turning in the loose embrace and tugging the other girl around to her front, “C’mere, babe.”

Further up front it seems Barty has found a seating ledge under the water which he’s currently taking up as much space on as physically possible while Evan tugs Regulus closer, hooking a chin around his shoulder and watching Barty’s shenanigans with a smirk and glare respectively.

Once Pandora is settled in front of her, legs hooked around her hips and an adorably pitiful pout on her face, Dorcas can’t help but coo at her a little. Wide honey eyes, flecks of gold and her bleached curls sopping wet at the ends where they’re already dunked in the water. The sweetest rosy lips, the small, dark mole under the right corner of her mouth. Dorcas lifts a hand to hold her still by the chin and places a soft kiss on the tip of her nose.

Pandora’s eyelids flutter a bit, the crease between her eyebrows mellowing and Drocas grins, feeling warmer from the inside out, which shouldn’t be quite possible given the bath temperature but never underestimate the charm of a Rosier, she guesses.

The Rosiers got that distinct air around them, too, that no matter the size of your balls makes you start to squirm after only so many minutes of them simply staring at you. Mustering, eyeing, scrutinising, assessing and Dorcas tries to ignore it now on Pandora as she manoeuvres them to one of the underwater pressure nozzles built on the side of the pool wall.

“How’s that feel?” Dorcas mumbles as she positions them in line of the nozzle, directed at Pandora’s back.

Her mouth falls open a little and then her eyes roll back with a groan, legs tightening around Dorcas once more and she has to swallow. Their breasts bump and there’s glitter on the white triangles covering Pandora’s but Dorcas can still see her pert nipples whenever they come up above the surface. Honestly, it’s highly distracting.

“This is better than sex,” Pandora announces, eyes closed in bliss right in front of Dorcas’ face.

A tug in Dorcas’ gut but her mouth tips into a grin, “Then you probably haven’t had any good sex lately.”

“You know I haven’t,” she whines, leaning back and it does something to Dorkas again. Yep, timeout should definitely be something to seriously be considered as of now.

Pandora tips her head back down and fixes Dorcas with a considering glance, lips contorted like it happens when she’s thinking.

Uh oh.

“Cass,” and it’s unbearably sweet.

“Yeah?”

Pandora’s expression mellows and slips so fast into an amused grin Dorcas feels like experiencing whiplash. Her whole face lights up, pink colour returning to her tan skin and teeth shown in a brilliant smile, a gap between the two front incisors. And then she’s leaning in, giggling and whispering like she’s telling a secret, “The nozzle is blasting away my panties.”

Dorcas blinks and then her hands quickly abandon where she was kneading the muscle of Pandora’s thighs to scramble for the fabric of her swimming underwear. It is indeed all the way down at the crease of her thighs and Dorcas quickly tangles her fingers in to yank it back up as she side-steps the nozzle.

Pandora is laughing like it’s the most amusing thing in the world and Dorcas slips her tongue into the side of one cheek, glaring at her friend as she shakes in Dorcas’ hold.

They stay like this for a few moments, everything around them blurring to an unimportant background muffle as Pandora giggles sweetly into Dorcas’ neck and Dorcas tries not to bite into the elegant rounding of her shoulder or the jut of her collarbones. She’s wearing a small golden chain with a star pendant and a little purple amethyst. Dorcas’ birthstone.

Once she’s calmed down, Pandora pulls back but not far, grinning a little lopsided as she looks at Dorcas.

Dorcas wants to kiss her.

A bleached eyebrow raises pointedly, a predator playing, “You can take your hands off my ass now if you want.”

As if on reflex, Dorcas’ fingers tighten and she barely represses a noise when she, indeed, feels the meat of Pandora’s ass in them. Her heart skips a beat in her chest and then picks back up a little too strongly, “What if I don’t want to?”

Pandora hums, catching her bottom lip between her teeth, “Then don’t.”

Dorcas nods, lips tugging into a smirk and she leans in to place a kiss against Pandora’s cheek, to murmur in her ear, “Feel any better now?”

Pandora nods, her curls tickling Dorcas’ nose. “Still tense though.” Fingers slipping up between the roots of her braids.

“Think I can help with that?”

Another nod, a hum that’s more of a little moan and Dorcas tugs Pandora forward against her, delighting in the gasp she elicits.

Her mouth pulls into a grin, “Legs down, sweets.”

Pandora makes a noise in protest but she lets herself be handled when it’s clear Dorcas is pulling her over one of her thighs in the water.

She throws a look over the back of her shoulder to confirm that the others are still mostly outside of ear shot and otherwise occupied.

When she turns back Pandora is gazing up at her through her lashes with a slack mouth and Dorcas makes a noise in appreciation before she grabs her by the hips and starts a slow rhythm against her bare thigh.

It takes a moment to figure it out, what with the water slowing their movements but Dorcas knows it works when Pandora makes a little noise that sounds equally surprised as it does needy. One of her hands comes down to clutch at her waist, fingers slipping under the belly beads Dorcas is perpetually wearing and Dorcas can’t help but tug a little rougher on the next shift of hips.

“Kiss me?” Pandora whimpers, their noses only a hair width apart but Dorcas tips her head to the side and out of reach.

“We’re gonna get found out, love,” and Pandora’s eyebrows furrow again, a small, pathetic noise slipping out of her. “I know, baby, I know.” Dorcas coos, agitated, and throws another look over her shoulder.

It’s still relatively empty, the boys busy with themselves and only another middle-aged woman farther back.

Well, fuck public decency. Dorcas turns and immediately captures Pandora in a kiss, a wet slide of lips that has Pandora’s hips stuttering and a whimpering like she’s getting it so good. Dorcas’ blood is thrumming with it.

It’s not like they haven’t done this before. Fumbling, inexperienced hands and shy giggles in Dorcas’ dorm once they’d both figured out they were onto women but it’s different now that they’re older. Adult, more sure of themselves, have dated and loved and tried themselves with others.

Still, it’s like driving by your childhood home, that’s not your house anymore but the tree still stands in the same place in the backyard and you still know which room exactly used to be yours. Where the kitchen is, where you used to eat your meals and where you piled on the couch for your parents to take a photo with an old digital camera of you and your friends all dressed up on your birthday.

Dorcas sucks the plush meat of Pandora’s lower lip between her lips, palm digging in right above her tailbone and a heel hooks around her ankle as Pandora shudders through her arousal, fingers clenching on Dorcas’ hip.

The fabric of her panties keeps dragging against Drocas’ skin and it’s dizzying, her hands moving on their own as they go to grab at Pandora’s ass again.

She slumps forward, forehead against her collarbones and moaning when Dorcas pushes her down more vigorously.

“Shh,” Dorcas makes, grinning and fucking high off bringing her best girl friend off, “Gotta stay quiet for me, angel.”

Another pitiful noise and Dorcas angles her face up again to steal another kiss, licking into Pandora’s mouth when it pliantly parts for her.

“Cass,” an audible swallow, “Cassy.”

Dorcas sucks in a breath when Pandora starts palming at the swell of her breast, “Hm?”

“’s not enough,” her shoulders draw up helplessly as she grinds down deliriously. “Need mgh—”

“More?” and Pandora nods her head furiously, kissing at Dorcas’ neck, hot and open mouthed. “Want my fingers, bébé?”

“Ah– oui. Please, please.”

Dorcas detaches her gently, hands cupping her cheeks for another slow kiss before she turns Pandora in her arms and leans her against the edge of the pool.

“Keep breathing for me, love.”

Pandora tzks, throws an eye roll over her shoulder as she wiggles her hips underwater, “I know how to breathe.”

Dorcas’ grin stretches so wide her cheeks stain from it, “Try telling me again once I have you on the edge of your orgasm, yeah?”

Pandora’s mouth drops open, slightly affronted, but then closes it quickly as he lets out a whine through clenched teeth when Dorcas slides her panties to the side without preamble.

It’s easy enough to slip the tip of her finger through where Pandora is slick, satiny heat, heaven on earth and they let out a mutual, soft groan when she sheathes it in all the way to the last knuckle. Twisting, turning and then pumping in and out at a pace that makes Pandora’s grip turn white knuckled.

“More,” she gasps after a few moments, toes curling into Dorcas’ calf.

Dorcas hums, places a sweet kiss on the jut of her shoulder blade, “Where are your manners, Dora? Patience is a virtue.”

“Cassy,” the tone of her voice like sharp claws swiping out for Dorcas’ aorta. A frustrated whine, “Need you.”

Dorcas’ grin widens and she lets her teeth graze against her neck, watching her shiver, “Ask nicely?”

A noise that says fuck you, then relenting, “Please.”

“‘Please’ what?”

Her head sinks between her drawn shoulders, the straps of her white bikini top stretched taut, “Please, give me another finger, putain.”

“See?” Dorcas teases, prodding at her wet entrance with the tip of her ring finger, “That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

Pandora moans into the crook of her own arm, “Remind me why we’re doing this again?”

“Mm, because you were basically begging for me to fuck you?”

“Cass.”

“Because you were in a foul mood and I’m such a good friend I’ll go to any lengths to make you feel better—even though you’re being a difficult little brat,” Dorcas snakes her second hand under the garment, circling Pandora’s clit, immediately making her stutter on her inhale.

Pandora grits her teeth, throwing a glare over her shoulder that’s ruined by her swollen mouth and the blush tinting her cheeks, “Since when have you become someone to put people in their place during sex.”

Dorcas grins and leans in, letting their lips brush, “Since you’ve become more confident and quick to open your smart mouth and talk back.”

The helpless moan tumbling out of Pandora gets swallowed by Dorcas’ hungry mouth. Their teeth click with the angle, lips catching on each other and once Dorcas properly rubs over that small bundle of nerves Pandora starts erratically jerking her hips, fucking herself back on Dorcas’ fingers but also grinding into the stimulation.

There’s a loud bark of laughter from behind and Dorcas’ head spins around to watch Barty try and entangle himself with Evan. Regulus is half in their menacing clutches as well, looking entirely unamused but Dorcas knows it’s a harmless farce from the lack of crease between his brows.

They make eye contact for a second and then Regulus’ head snaps back around to her again, mouth falling open a bit and Dorcas’ ministrations falter for a second.

Pandora makes a displeased noise and Dorcas would literally rather drown herself right now than stop so she places a placating kiss to the side of Pandora’s neck before she turns again, giving Regulus a pleading look.

Regulus cocks his head a little, eyes narrowing in a way that say Really? and maybe if Dorcas wasn’t two fingers deep in their girl friend’s delightfully slick pussy she’d stick out her tongue at him. Like this, she simply matches him, daring him to say anything that would steer attention towards and interrupt them.

And because Regulus is a good friend, he turns with an eye roll and makes an effort to sidle up closer to Barty and Evan to keep their attention focused away from what ungodly things the latter’s twin sister is subjected to at the other end of the pool.

“Fuck,” Pandora mutters, throwing her head back against Dorcas’ shoulder, back arched beautifully, hiccuping a breath when Dorcas rolls her clit between thumb and index.

Dorcas’ sucks on the soft skin of Pandora’s neck in response, “How’s your breathing, doll?”

“Fuck you,” she gasps out and Dorcas chuckles against the hot skin, “Don’t fucking stop.”

Dorcas grunts, wrist aching but she wouldn’t dream it, “Promise, sweets. Just be as pretty and good for me as you always are.”

Pandora moans, high pitched, “Good for you?”

“So good,” Dorcas groans, the pulse between her own legs throbbing, “Love having you with me all the time. Smartest girl, prettiest thing to look at.”

Pandora nods—so good for her—and then presses out a strangled, “Love you.”

Dorcas nods, too, braids slipping over her shoulder. “I know,” because she does know. They all love each other unconditionally, irrevocably, unquestionably and they all know it.

The sweetest guttural noise evades Pandora, a distinct edge to the sound that makes Dorcas’ hair stand on end, vibrating with how bad she wants her. “Gonna cum for me, sweets?”

“Yeah,” Pandora whimpers, breath coming in short little bursts, working up to her orgasm as Dorcas keeps the stimulation up, mouthing at the tendons of her neck besides the stupid white bikini halter string.

Her noises increase in pitch, body tensing between Dorcas’ arms and cunt tightening around her fingers and because when Dorcas wants something she goes all in she presses her mouth up against the shell of Pandora’s ear, “Just for me, huh? All for me, sweets, c’mon. Be good and cum for me.”

“Cass,” Pandora chides, moans, and then she’s falling apart. Trembling and shaking, panting and whimpering as she convulses around Dorcas’ fingers in lapping waves of blinding hot pleasure.

Dorcas tips her head forward and watches greedily as Pandora’s lips drop open in a silent cry, brows furrowed, the water lapping between her cleavage and looking like a god damn piece of art. She slows her fingers, keeps the two inside unmoving, pressed deep inside and strokes against her clit gentler as Pandora comes crashing back down gradually.

She slumps back against Dorcas with an exhausted moan, voice raspy and panting shallowly. Slowly coming to again, eyelids fluttering and blowing out an errant curl that’s fallen into her face.

It makes Dorcas’ lips slip into a satisfied grin and she presses a lingering kiss against the other’s flushed cheek, trailing a flutter of closed lips down her jaw and neck as she carefully removes her fingers and slides the swimwear panties back into place.

Pandora makes a little mournful noise but she tips her head to the side in welcome, sighing sweetly when Dorcas’ arms come together in front of her stomach.

The second Dorcas detaches her lips Pandora turns in the embrace and slinks her own palms up Dorcas’ stomach and around, fingers tracing the knobs of spine as she eagerly chases Drocas’ mouth for more.

They stay like this for a few moments, a couple minutes maybe, where they just let their bodies do what they do best—be close with each other and do what feels good. It feels familiar and a little oddly so, like they’re practised in it, almost, like it’s something they do on a daily. But Dorcas basks in it, in the way Pandora’s tongue nudging against hers with the perfect amount of pressure just feels right.

When they draw back Pandora looks less flushed but her cheeks are rosy all the same and her mouth ridiculously swollen, looking downright edible where she licks at the little spit Dorcas left there, whiskey eyes drunk but not hazy and fond where they look right back at her.

“So?” Dorcas asks, stealing another kiss.

Pandora rolls her eyes with a grin, “‘So’ what?”

“Nozzle or sex?” Dorcas smiles toothily.

Pandora’s face slips into a put upon frown, “Now don’t let this get to your head.”

“Oh,” Dorcas makes, waving a hand, “That’s already too late, I’m afraid to say, mon cheri.”

“Incorrigible.”

Dorcas hums, smiling against Pandora’s lips when she tips her chin back up for another kiss.

“Well, well, well,” Barty’s voice comes leering from right behind Dorcas and she sighs. Every era of peace must come to an end, she supposes. “What do we have over here, huh? The two beauties all entangled in each other?”

Regulus is hanging off of his back and watching with a self-satisfied expression, like Dorcas owes him now that he successfully distracted his fucking boyfriends for a continues five minutes so she could take care of Pandora in her time of need.

“Keep your tongue out of my sister’s mouth where I can see it, hm, Meadows?” Evan drawls, sidling up next to Barty.

Dorcas looks back over in time to see Pandora scrunching her nose at Evan childishly and then immediately licking a flat stripe up the side of Dorcas’ face.

A muscle in Evan’s jaw ticks and then Pandora’s fingers are digging into the hinge of Dorcas’, making her open her mouth and shamelessly licking inside, making a whole show of doing exactly what her brother asked her not to do.

God, Dorcas is gonna put a fucking ring on her.

#yeah this turned into a whole fucking oneshot #pandorcas #pandora rosier x dorcas meadows #dorcas meadows #pandora rosier #pandora lovegood #slytherin skittles #rosestarkiller if you squint #rosier twins #theyre all dancing tango with the line between platonic and romantic #might upload this to ao3 #pandora lovegood x dorcas meadows #ino tag #lune’s tiny fic #lune writes #hpsafficsfeb24 #hp femslash #femslash february #femslash feb 2024

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juleswritesstuff · 2 months ago

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The Pillow Contract

James Potter seems to have found the best pillow on earth. You.

james potter x fem!reader

warnings: none

James Potter liked to consider himself a man of simple pleasures.

A good meal ? Heaven. A lazy Sunday spent wrapped in a blanket burrito ? Perfection. A well-timed, sarcastic remark ? Chef’s kiss.

But above all else, there was one thing James had come to love more than anything in the world.

Your chest.

Well, you as a whole, of course. Body and soul alike. He was not a bloody prick, thank you very much.

He loved you for you, not just for the flawless vessel that carried your golden heart and your beautiful mind.

But he couldn't help the way he was especially drawn to the perfection that peeked from your neckline when your shirt hung a little lower than usual.

And he also could not, in good conscience, ignore the life-altering comfort that was that perfection.

Now, to be clear, James wasn’t just some guy obsessed with his girlfriend’s body –okay, maybe he was a little addicted.

But, come on, who could blame him when you were said girlfriend ?

He was supposed to be a bit obsessed with you, right ? That’s what every person in their sane, right and helplessly in love mind would be about their partner, no ?

Was that just him ?

Ok, fine, maybe he was a bit of a simp (read, you had him at your feet). So what ?

He liked it exactly like that. Sue him.

But this ? This was different.

This wasn’t just about attraction or some primal male instinct. No, this was about something sacred.

This was about comfort.

The kind that he’d accidentally stumbled upon one evening when you had curled up next to him on the couch, and his head had somehow –miraculously– ended up resting right on your chest.

That’s when he had discovered it.

The Holy Grail of pillows. The pinnacle of all headrests.

Your chest was perfect.

Warm. Soft. Inviting.

It had been life-changing. Existence-altering. World-stopping.

And in that moment, with his head resting against the softest, most heavenly cushion known to mankind, and your heart beating under his ear like a lullaby, James had made a decision.

He was never going back to regular pillows again.

Ever.

The problem was, he didn’t exactly know how to turn this into a permanent arrangement without looking like an absolute fool.

Which, really, was ironic, because James didn’t mind acting like the biggest dumbass in the world when it came to you. Not even a tiny bit.

The man had zero shame, and zero chill when you were involved.

If he had to beg ? Done.

If he had to bribe you with kisses ? Oh no, how awful.

If he had to declare his undying devotion in front of his friends and suffer their relentless teasing ? Call Sirius and Remus over, he was ready to suffer.

If he had to wear one of those, frankly quite obnoxious --yes, even for him-- ‘I ❤️ My Girlfriend’ shirts in public just because you wanted him to suffer a bit for forgetting the chores ? Consider it his new favorite outfit.

He’d do anything and everything –yes, even sacrificing his dignity in front of Pads and Moony– if it meant putting a smile on your face (and making you agree to be used as a headrest for the rest of your life. But let’s just say that was a teeny, tiny, wonderful bonus if the case ever came to be).

Tonight was his chance, he told himself.

You were already curled up on the couch, wearing one of his hoodies, your legs tucked beneath you as you scrolled through your phone. The dim lighting of the room cast a soft glow over you, and James took a moment to appreciate the scene.

Because, honestly ? You looked really good.

Too good.

Like, unfairly good.

The hoodie –his hoodie, the one he had technically claimed as his favorite, but which spent more time on your body than his closet– was slightly oversized on you, slipping off one shoulder in a way that made his brain short-circuit for a second.

This was his moment.

You were comfortable. The couch was comfortable.

And your chest ? Well, that was a level of bliss he had yet to find anywhere else in the world.

Time to execute: Operation Smothered by Heaven.

Ok, the name was a little ridiculous. But, to his defence, he had been a little distracted while thinking about it –the dress you were wearing mysteriously met the floor not even five minutes after he had taken a glimpse of you– and his brain had refused to work at his full potential.

Something that he absolutely couldn’t let happen now.

Not when the fate of his comfort and sanity was at such a high risk.

That’s why he casually –so casually– stretched like a giant cat just waking up from a nap, letting out an exaggerated yawn before –still ever so nonchalantly, of course– leaning closer.

And would you look at that ? His head, as if drawn by an invisible magnetic force he absolutely had no control on –God forbid– found its way to your chest.

It was seamless.

Flawless execution.

Absolutely fucking nailed that.

He gave himself a mental high five.

Operation Smothered by Heaven: officially successful.

“Wow. Smooth” you blinked down at him, amused.

James grinned but didn’t move. Not even an inch. Nope.

He had claimed his rightful place, and there was no going back now.

“What can I say ? Gravity is a powerful thing” he purred, his voice smug, his eyes half-lidded like a cat who had just found the warmest sunspot in the house.

“Ah, I see. So this is all gravity’s fault, then ?”

“Absolutely” he confirmed, burrowing his face in just a little more “I have no control over it. Pure science”

You snorted, shaking your head, but you didn’t push him away.

Of course you didn’t.

If anything, you shifted slightly, letting your arm drape around his back, your fingers absentmindedly tracing along his spine. He hummed in approval, his whole body melting against yours like ice under the warm sunlight of a summer’s day.

Because the thing James didn’t know –or, at the very least, seemed to forget– was that he wore his heart on his sleeve. Always.

James Potter and secret scheming ? Not a good match.

Not a match at all, actually. But you still liked watching him try.

And with the way he had been ogling you for the past week, it really wasn’t hard to figure out what had been brewing in that ridiculously pretty head of his.

His thoughtful frown, the way his brows scrunched together, his deep-in-thought lip-biting. James had looked like he was trying to crack some highly classified government code.

Except the code in question was you.

Or, more specifically, that area right below your neck that seemed to steal his attention more times then it should've been considered healthy.

Subtle, he was not.

He had been studying you. Analyzing the way your sweaters dipped lower when you leaned forward, the way the fabric of your shirts clung to your curves, the way–

God.

James had the audacity to look like he was pondering the meaning of life when, really, all he was trying to find was an excuse.

Funny how he could’ve just asked.

It wasn’t like you would have refused him.

Hell, you didn’t even think you possessed the ability to refuse him. To refuse him anything, really.

But your smitten and extremely down-bad behavior when it came to your boyfriend was a topic for another time.

James let out a deep, satisfied sigh.

“You know” he murmured, voice slightly muffled as he nuzzled closer “I think I’ve discovered something important”

“Oh ?”

“Mhm” he tilted his head up, his expression dead serious. Like a man delivering a life-changing revelation “Your chest ? Best pillow I’ve ever used”

You raised an eyebrow, a quiet grin making its way onto your mouth. “I should be flattered, I think”

“You should be honored” he corrected, his lips quirking into a lazy smirk “I mean, it’s a very competitive market. But yours ? Easily top-tier”

You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t hide the smile tugging at your lips. “Is that right ?”

James nodded solemnly.

“Hell yeah, baby. I’d even write a five-star Yelp review if that were a thing”

You let out a soft laugh and slid your fingers into his hair, gently scratching at his scalp.

James immediately melted.

He let out a low, contented hum, eyes slipping shut, the tension in his body dissolving completely. You thought if he was a cat, he would’ve started purring.

“Mmh. Keep doing that, and I might never get up” he mumbled, voice already laced with drowsiness.

“Wouldn’t mind that” you teased.

Because, really, who in their right mind would complain about this ?

No one, that's who.

And surely not you.

James hummed in response, his arms tightening around your waist burying himself further into you. You could feel the steady rise and fall of his breathing, the warmth of his body seeping into yours.

His lips brushed absentmindedly against your collarbone –a barely-there press of warmth that sent a quiet shiver down your spine.

This. This was perfection.

Then, because James Potter simply could not help himself, he tilted his head up again.

“So, uh... just out of curiosity. How often do you think I can get away with this ?”

You smirked. “That depends”

“On ?”

“How well you behave”

James’ eyes darkened slightly, though amusement still played at the edges.

“Define behave” his voice dropped, all smooth and teasing, like he could coax an answer out of you if he said it just right.

You arched a brow, pretending to think.

“Well, let’s see. No stealing the blankets at night. No pretending you don’t hear me when I ask you to grab something from the kitchen. And definitely no distracting me when I’m trying to get work done”

James gasped, offended.

“That last one is unreasonable and you know it”

You laughed, shaking your head. “Oh, is it ?”

“Yes. It is literally part of my rights as your boyfriend to distract you”

You hummed, pretending to ponder your decision.

“Well, if we can do nothing about that…” your hand cupped his cheek, slender fingers applying a gentle pressure to lift his face up from that cocoon of warmth he had nestled himself into.

He blinked. “I-wait. What ?”

Before he could fully register what was happening, you leaned down and captured his lips in a slow, lazy kiss.

James melted.

Like, gone. Out of commission. Absolute goner.

The smug confidence he had a second ago ? Obliterated.

His hands, which had been lazily resting at your waist, tightened, pulling you closer like he never wanted to let go. One of them trailed up your spine, fingers tangling into your hair, holding you there like this was oxygen and he needed it to breathe.

You sighed against his lips, feeling the way he shuddered, the way his grip on you tightened, like he was physically trying to keep himself from falling apart.

Like you had just ruined him.

And maybe you had.

Because when you pulled back just enough to catch your breath, James just blinked at you, dazed and utterly wrecked, lips still parted like he hadn’t quite caught up with reality yet.

You bit back a smirk.

Unbelievable.

How had this man made a full-time career out of turning you into putty, and yet one well-placed kiss had him looking like he’d just been personally blessed by the universe ?

You dragged your fingers lazily through his curls, watching the way his lashes fluttered at the sensation, the slow, dopey grin tugging at his lips.

Completely gone.

You tilted your head, murmuring teasingly against his mouth “Was that up to your standards, Mr. Five-Star Review ?”

James, still grinning –and still absolutely useless– just nodded.

"Five stars ? That was worth the entire Milky Way, baby"

You let out a laugh, and he practically glowed at the sound, his fingers flexing against your waist like he wanted to bottle it.

Then, before you could say anything else, he tilted his head, brushing his nose against yours in that infuriatingly sweet way of his.

"You know-" he murmured, voice all warm and syrupy "-if this is part of my reward system, I promise to be so good"

You smirked, fingers tracing idle patterns into the back of his neck. “Do you now ?”

James nodded solemnly, though the grin he was fighting gave him away.

“The best. Model citizen. Proper gentleman. Will hold doors, carry bags, call you milady unironically if I have to”

You snorted. Loudly.

"Now that, I need to see"

He hummed, tilting his head up like he was about to deliver the most profound statement of his life.

“Mmh. Maybe after another kiss”

Your eyes narrowed playfully. “That so ?”

He nodded again, already leaning in, his lips curling mischievously.

You let your fingers drag slowly down the back of his neck, feeling the way James shivered under your touch.

The moment stretched, thick with something warm and electric, the air between you charged in that intoxicating way it always was whenever you teased him like this.

You leaned in deliberately, lips hovering just over his, close enough that you could feel the ghost of his breath, the heat radiating off his skin.

James, for all his usual smugness, stilled, his lazy smirk faltering into something softer, deeper. His lips parting slightly, his pupils dark and expectant.

Waiting.

Wanting.

You let your gaze drop to his lips, watching as his tongue darted out just once, a quick, unconscious flick, like he was already tasting the kiss before it happened.

And, God, he was beautiful like this.

All that usual bravado stripped down to this, his sharp edges melted, his hands twitching slightly where they rested on your hips, fighting the urge to pull you closer.

His restraint was admirable.

His patience ?

Well. That was something you just had to test.

You leaned in that final inch –only for your lips to land on his cheek instead.

Soft. Chaste. Infuriating.

James let out a dramatic, suffering groan, his head thunking back against the cushions.

“Tease” he mumbled, voice hoarse, his hands finally losing their battle as they gripped your waist, fingers pressing into your sides like he was physically holding back the urge to grab your face and kiss you properly.

You pulled back just enough to grin down at him, impossibly pleased with yourself.

“What ?” you asked innocently, tilting your head “You asked for a kiss. You didn’t specify where, love”

He cracked one eye open, glowering.

“Oh, that’s dirty” he grumbled, before huffing dramatically and rolling onto his back, taking you with him.

You yelped as you landed against his chest, sprawled across him, your laughter cut off when his arms wrapped around you, pinning you against him with the strength of a human vice grip.

“James-”

“Nope” he said, shoving his face into your neck like a petulant child, muffling his words “You’re stuck here now. Actions have consequences”

You laughed, wiggling in his hold, but he just tightened his grip.

“James”

“Mmm. Nope”

“I-”

“Shh. Thinking about my suffering”

You rolled your eyes, smiling despite yourself, your fingers naturally finding their way into his curls again, scratching lightly at his scalp.

He made a sound, deep and content, his body practically melting beneath you.

“See ?” you teased, voice softening “That wasn’t so bad”

He exhaled heavily, but his hands had already started skimming over your back again, lazy and unbothered, like he’d completely forgotten why he was fake-pouting in the first place.

“Mmh” he hummed “Don't know. Still feel like you owe me”

You smirked, arching a brow. “Oh ?”

“Yeah” James sighed dramatically, finally tilting his head up again. Looking at you.

That expression.

Soft. Mischievous. A little challenging.

Maybe even a little hopeful.

Like he was just waiting for you to put him out of his misery.

You let the moment stretch for a beat longer, lips quirking.

Then, with a small, amused sigh, you finally gave in.

And kissed him properly.

For a few moments, the two of you just stayed like that, tangled together, basking in the warmth of each other’s touch.

You felt him smile against your lips before he pulled back just enough to murmur “So… hear me out”

“Oh boy” you sighed, already knowing.

James just grinned, completely unbothered by your lack in faith in him.

“What if we made this a permanent arrangement ?”

You let out a soft laugh, tilting your head at him. “A permanent arrangement ?”

“Yeah. Like, an official thing. A contract, even” he lifted his head slightly, hie expression the picture of seriousness “Something binding. A legally recognized agreement that states you will be my official human pillow for the foreseeable future”

You stared at him, an eyebrow quirked in amusement, lips twitiching.

“You want to draft a pillow contract ?”

James nodded, almost professionally.

“For accountability purposes”

You rolled your eyes, a disbelieved chuckle leaving your lips before you could stop it.

“You’re ridiculous”

“But lovable” he pointed out.

You exhaled, shaking your head, your heart betraying you with the sheer amount of fondness you felt for this man.

“Fine” you relented, rolling your eyes as if you weren’t already completely gone for him “You win. You can rest on me whenever you want”

James grinned like he’d just won the lottery, wasting no time in smacking a quick, eager kiss right on your lips.

“But” you added, poking him in the ribs “I reserve the right to move if you start drooling”

“Excuse me ?” he gasped, offended “I do not drool”

You smirked. “That’s not what the couch cushions say”

James gasped again, dramatically this time, like you had personally insulted his honor “That was one time-”

“Oh, it so wasn’t”

James pouted, pulling you even closer and pressing his forehead against yours with a grumble.

“You wound me” he muttered, a mock distraught lilt to his voice.

You grinned, the warmth of him, the smell of him, completely surrounding you as you pressed a kiss to his jaw, lingering just enough to feel the way his breath hitched.

“I think you’ll survive just fine”

He hummed, tilting his head slightly, inviting you to keep going.

So you did.

You let your lips trail along his jawline, slow and lazy, your fingers threading through the curls at the nape of his neck, scratching lightly in a way that made him melt.

“Well” James sighed, voice lower, heavier, the tiniest shiver running through him “If this is how you comfort me, I guess I’ll forgive you”

You laughed against his skin.

“How generous”

James smirked, but there was something else in his eyes now, something wicked, something that sparked just before–

Before the menace shimmied down.

Yes. Shimmied. Like a man with a mission.

“James-”

Your protest was cut off by laughter, because he was determined, wriggling lower and lower with expert precision, slipping out of your hold like a human-sized golden retriever trying to find the perfect spot on the couch.

And then, with a triumphant sigh, his head landed where he had been aiming all along–

Right on your chest.

James let out a deep, satisfied hum, snuggling in, his nose nuzzling into the soft fabric of your shirt like this was some long-lost paradise he had just returned to.

“Now we’re talking” he exhaled in sheer satisfaction, like the heaviest of weights had been lifted from his shoulders, snuggling even deeper, and muttering an appreciative “Mmh. Yep. Definitely five stars”

You blinked down at him, helpless to fight the way your heart swelled, a smile threatening to bloom against your better judgment.

“Should I start charging you for this service ?” you teased.

James hummed, content, his lips brushing absently against the skin just below your collarbone.

“I’d go broke, baby”

You let out a soft, breathy laugh, your fingers finding their way back into his hair, your nails scratching lightly at his scalp.

He groaned, pressing his face deeper into your chest, mumbling something incoherent that you were pretty sure translated to never stop doing that.

Before you could fully process how utterly whipped this man was, he pressed a soft, lingering kiss there –just because he could.

You pulled back slightly, blinking down at the mop of messy chocolate strands currently buried between your collarbones.

“Do you make a habit of kissing all your pillows ?” you asked, voice mildly amused despite the unreasonable warmth now flooding your chest.

James, completely unashamed, grinned against you.

“Pillows don’t usually deserve appreciation, but this one ?” his fingers traced slow, lazy patterns against your waist, his voice dropping to a reverent murmur “This one gets special treatment”

A full-body shiver rolled through you.

And James, that absolute menace, felt it.

His smirk was obnoxiously satisfied as he nuzzled in even deeper, practically purring as he molded himself further against you.

You rolled your eyes, trying –truly trying– to ignore the overwhelming affection clawing at your ribcage. And utterly failing.

“Jamie, you’re gonna choke like this” you warned playfully, fighting against yourself not to let out the endeared laugh threatening to spill.

He made a noncommittal noise, fully unbothered.

“Best way to go, honestly”

And that was it.

Not one beat missed. Not a single ounce of shame registered in his voice.

You stared wide-eyed at the mop of untamable chocolate curls right below your chin, completely bewildered by the words that had just come out of your boyfriend’s mouth.

Did this man, the actual love of your life, just casually declare that he would willingly –no, gladly– perish via boob-related asphyxiation ?

Because that was what it sounded like.

Was that a normal thing for a person to say ?

No. No, it wasn’t.

And yet—here you were.

"James"

“Mmm ?”

"James, get up"

"No"

You sighed, trying to nudge him off, but it was useless.

Because this man –this grown, six-foot, sport-trained, annoyingly fit man– was currently clinging to you like a koala experiencing its first-ever existential crisis.

And you knew –you knew– that there was no reasoning with a man who had just fully committed to making your chest his final resting place.

"James-"

"No"

"You cannot suffocate yourself on my–"

"I can and I will"

"You will not"

James lifted his head just enough to look at you with actual betrayal.

"How dare you harm a man in his final moments ?"

A stunned laugh escaped before you could stop it.

“Oh my god, you’re ridiculous”

James smirked triumphantly.

“And yet-” he murmured smugly “-you don’t seem to mind it”

He barely gave you a second to respond before he nuzzled right back in, burrowing into your chest like you were some long-lost paradise he had finally returned to.

You stared at the ceiling, dead inside.

How was this your life ?

You used to have dignity.

You used to be a strong, independent person.

And yet, somehow –somehow– you had become a glorified human mattress for your very large and very needy boyfriend.

And the worst part ?

You didn’t even mind.

You sighed deeply, fingers slipping into his hair against your better judgment. James melted immediately, exhaling in a way that was obscenely pleased. Like if he were any more relaxed, he'd have dissolved into a puddle of mushy, lovesick goo.

Then, with the solemnity of a man about to deliver a groundbreaking presidential address, he cleared his throat.

You barely had time to register the shift before he–

“Ladies” James began, his voice smooth, reverent “It’s always a pleasure”

Your mouth fell open.

Did he just–

Oh, for fuck’s sake.

“I just wanted to take a moment to express my deepest gratitude” he continued talking to your breasts, completely ignoring the look of utter disbelief and sheer horror plastered on your face and sighing dramatically “For your service. For your warmth. For providing me with the best naps of my life”

Your soul, quite frankly, left your body, just straight-up abandoned you.

“James–”

He shushed you.

Shushed you.

“I’m having a moment with my girls, baby” he whispered, like he was delivering a speech at fucking Buckingham Palace.

You gaped at him. “You are not-”

“I am” he placed a hand over his heart “They deserve it”

You had never contemplated murder so seriously in your life.

James, completely unbothered, pressed on.

“I promise to treat you with the respect and admiration you deserve. To appreciate your softness in all its glory. To-” he paused, tilting his head “Actually, I feel like I should name you”

“For the love of God, James. Don’t you dare-”

He gasped.

Gasped.

“That’s a brilliant idea. Baby, why haven’t we named them ?”

You smacked his arm, your eyes so wide they threatened to fall out of your skull. “Because they are literally attached to my body ?!”

But he wasn’t listening. No, the absolute menace was thinking, brows furrowed in deep concentration.

“They deserve names that reflect their greatness. Something regal. Something powerful”

He snapped his fingers. “Got it. Thelma and Louise”

You groaned. “Absolutely fucking not”

James ignored you.

“Or maybe Hall and Oates ?”

“I- What- Aren’t they both men ?”

“Gender’s nothing but a social construct, darling”

“Ok-”

A sudden gasp interrupted you, as if he had just discovered the meaning of life itself.

"Baby- Baby, I’ve got it"

You sighed, already regretting everything. "James, no"

"Yes" he insisted, eyes alight with the thrill of an idiot about to say something profoundly stupid "Bonnie and Clyde"

You blinked. Once. Twice.

"You want to name ‘your girls’ after two actual criminals ?"

He nodded solemnly, as if he were making the most reasonable suggestion in the world. "Iconic criminals. Star-crossed lovers. Thrill-seekers. Just like us, babe"

"Just like us ?" you repeated, incredulous "James, they literally died in a hail of bullets"

"Tragic, right ?" he sighed dramatically, resting his cheek against your chest. "Just two outlaws against the world. Inseparable. Madly in love. Probably great at robbing banks"

You stared at him, completely dead inside. "Are you about to compare my chest to a highly coordinated armed robbery ?"

James lifted his head just enough to grin at you.

"Well” he mused, eyes twinkling “they did steal my heart"

You were done. So done, in fact, that you just gave up entirely.

"I cannot believe this is my life" you muttered, shoving your hands over your face.

James, the absolute menace, took this as encouragement and nuzzled back in, pressing obnoxiously reverent kisses between his newly christened 'Bonnie and Clyde'.

"Rest easy, my loves" he murmured dramatically "Your legacy shall live on"

"James-"

"Shhh" he hushed, patting your side "They're outlaws, baby. They don’t play by the rules"

At that point, you seriously considered pushing him off the couch. Or out the window.

Maybe both.

You shook your head, defeated, completely annihilated by your boyfriend’s questionable choices.

James grinned, entirely too pleased with himself.

“Oh, come on. I’m just having a bit of fun” he chuckled lightheartedly, turning his attention back to your chest with the solemnity of a man who had just finished writing a best-selling novel “Well, ladies, whatever your names may be, just know –you have my eternal devotion”

And then, as if he hadn’t just committed the most embarrassing crime against you, he nestled back in with a satisfied hum.

You stared down at him, deadpan.

“You’re an actual menace”

“And yet, despite that, you love me” he mumbled, already half-asleep.

You sighed, your fingers automatically sliding into his hair once again. It took him less than two seconds to turn into a puddle, his entire body going limp as he exhaled in the most ridiculously pleased way possible, like he had just been given an award for the best nap ever.

“Unfortunately” you muttered, your heart melting just a little bit too, because, yes, he was a ridiculous man, but he was your ridiculous man.

And, as much as you complained, you couldn’t deny it --having James like this, warm and completely wrapped around you, was its own kind of perfect.

The Pillow Contract (Unofficially Signed & Approved)

Clause 1: James gets unlimited chest pillow privileges.

Clause 2: Y/n reserves the right to kick James off if he drools in his sleep.

Clause 3: Cuddles are mandatory.

Clause 4: James won't ever refer to Y/n's chest as ‘Bonnie and Clyde’ again. Penalty: annulment of Clause 1.

Hello beautiful people 💗

I have no idea of where this thing spouted from. It popped in my head, and I had to bring it to the world 😂.

This is my first attempt at a more humorous type of fic. I had so much fun writing it, and I really hope it didn't downright suck, and you had a good time reading it, too.

Let me know what you think!

Thank you for reading, and I'll catch you in the next one <3

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